#i would be PISSED. and house still showed up. just in case.

[cabotinheels]

— HANDLING EMILY — e.prentiss x female reader

PREMISE: You’ve always teased Emily Prentiss about being older. About how you could handle a woman like her—experienced, commanding, devastating. But when she finally calls your bluff and takes you home, you learn exactly what it means to be at her mercy.

WARNINGS: legal age gap, oral, mentions of spit and swallowing spit, choking, scissoring, pussy slapping (once), dom!Emily, sub!reader, older!Emily, face riding, degradation, possessive behaviour, breast biting/marking, slight aftercare.

WORD COUNT: 3K

𓏲𝄢 find my masterlists

You said you could handle an older woman. Emily’s about to make you prove it.

You never meant for it to actually happen—not at first. The teasing started as harmless flirting, the kind of half-sarcastic sass you knew you could get away with when Emily would sit across from you in the bullpen, sipping her coffee, legs crossed, eyes sharp. You’d always toss something her way. A cheeky smile. A cocked eyebrow. “Sure you’re not too old to keep up with me?” Or, your personal favorite: “Bet you were a wild one in the ‘90s.”

She always gave it back just as hard. “Keep dreaming, rookie.” Or, more recently: “You wouldn’t last a minute with me.”

But god, what she didn’t know—what she probably knew, honestly—was that you weren’t just playing around. You had it bad. Hopeless crush, heart-racing-in-elevators bad. She was everything: the streak of silver in her hair, the worn leather jackets, that unreadable gaze she had when she was pissed off and trying not to show it. You’d lie awake some nights thinking about what it would feel like to belong to someone like her. To have her ruin you, command you. Praise you—or not.

So when she invited you over for “a drink” after the team closed a case, and you said yes with a grin too wide to be innocent… you kind of knew. You both did.

Her house smells like sandalwood and dark wine and something faintly smoky—like old books and danger. You pretend to admire the furniture, all dark woods and soft fabrics, while she watches you over the rim of her glass. Still in her work slacks and button-down, sleeves rolled to her forearms. Hair tied back, but loose enough to say I’ve been thinking about this too.

“You know,” you say, walking your fingers along the edge of her bookshelf, “I always figured you’d taste like scotch and sin.”

She raises an eyebrow. “And what do you taste like?”

You smile. “Come find out.”

That’s what does it.

In two strides she’s in front of you, her glass abandoned. She doesn’t kiss you yet—just presses you against the bookshelf with her body, one hand coming to rest lightly on your throat. Not tight. Not yet. Just there.

Her voice is low and rough. “You’ve got a big mouth for someone who blushes when I so much as look at you.”

Your heart is hammering. Your whole body is heat. “Maybe I blush because I like when you look at me.”

Emily chuckles—dark and amused, like she’s already decided how this night ends. “Is that right?”

Then her hand tightens—not painfully, but with purpose. Her palm wraps around your throat just firm enough that your breath hitches. Her thumb traces up under your jawline. Your knees go weak instantly. She tilts her head, eyes glittering. “You said you could handle an older woman,” she whispers, voice right against your lips. “Prove it.”

She pulls you in by the throat and kisses you like she’s claiming you—slow, deliberate, devastating. Her tongue invades your mouth with the kind of confidence only time and power can give a woman. You melt against her, moaning softly, already undone and still fully clothed.

When she steps back, her hand still holding you, she nods toward the living room.

“Strip for me.”

You hesitate for half a second—more out of awe than fear. Then, you start to move.

The fire’s burning low in the background, casting flickering gold across the walls. You make a show of it for her, because you want to. Because she’s watching you with that amused, unreadable expression like she’s deciding whether to ruin you slowly or all at once. You slide your shirt over your head, letting your fingertips trace your own stomach before unhooking your bra. You peel off your jeans, slow and sensual, keeping your eyes locked on hers.

She licks her bottom lip. “You’ve done this before.”

“Not for anyone like you,” you breathe.

Her smile darkens. “Damn right you haven’t.”

She comes to you again—pressing you down onto the couch, climbing over you like a wolf cornering its prey. Her hands move over your body like she owns it, mapping every inch. She pauses when her fingers slip between your thighs and find you soaked.

“Jesus. Look at you.” She pulls your legs apart with one hand and settles between them, kneeling on the rug. “You’re dripping. Just from a little choking and dirty talk?”

You whimper, embarrassed and turned on beyond words.

She slaps your thigh, just once. “Answer me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She groans at that—whether it’s from the title or the mess between your legs, you can’t tell. “Fuck, you are a good girl,” she mutters. “Let’s see how good.”

Then her mouth is on you.

She licks you like she’s savoring something rare and expensive, tongue slow and flat and devastating. She keeps eye contact as long as she can, even as your hips buck and your fingers dig into the cushions. Her tongue flicks your clit with maddening precision, alternating with deep, slow strokes that make your stomach clench. She moans against you—like you taste like sin. Like she’s been hungry for this.

Your pussy is swollen, glistening, and fully exposed under the flickering light. She spreads you wider, her thumbs keeping you open so she can lap at every part of you. She spits once—deliberately—and drags her tongue through the mess she’s made.

“Such a pretty little cunt,” she says, voice wrecked, breath hot. “So wet and needy. This what you’ve been thinking about while you’re sitting at your desk? Humping your thighs like a needy slut, pretending it wasn’t for me?”

You sob. “Yes, yes—Emily, please—”

“Ma’am.” Her voice cuts through the haze like a blade.

“Yes, ma’am,” you gasp, thighs shaking. “Please, I—I’m gonna—”

She pulls away just before you fall.

Cruel.

You whine, reaching for her, but she grips your throat again, pushing you back into the couch cushions.

“You don’t come,” she snarls. “Not until I say. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you whimper, every nerve lit up.

Her fingers replace her tongue—two of them sliding in to the knuckle while her mouth goes back to your clit. She pumps slowly, curling, hitting a spot that has your hips jerking with every thrust.

You're gone. Undone. A mess beneath her.

And you’ve never felt more wanted in your life.

Emily watches you squirm—your legs trembling, pussy soaked, your whole body aching for the release she just denied. You’re flushed, panting, lips parted, caught in that blissful place between desperate and obedient.

She doesn’t ease up. Her fingers stay inside you, thrusting slow and deep, curling exactly where you need them, while her mouth toys with your clit in lazy, taunting licks. She knows what she’s doing. She’s watching the way your stomach tightens, the way your eyes flutter, how your hips fight to meet every thrust even though you're not allowed to come.

"You close again?" she asks, even though she already knows.

You nod frantically, mouth barely forming words. “Please, please—I can’t—I need to—”

Emily lifts her mouth, licks her lips, and gives you a low, almost mocking smile.

“Then come for me. Now.”

Her voice is like a spell. Your body obeys instantly.

It hits like a wave—sharp and hot and all-consuming. Your back arches off the couch, legs clenching around her shoulders, the pleasure wracking through you in relentless, shuddering pulses. You cry out, a broken, needy sound that makes her groan into you.

She doesn’t stop.

She fucks you through it, tongue flicking, fingers thrusting, dragging out your orgasm until it blurs into something even messier, your body twitching from oversensitivity. You can’t breathe. Can’t think. Your hands are gripping at nothing.

Finally—finally—she pulls back.

You’re left panting, dripping, thighs still twitching. Your pussy’s pink, puffy, still clenching from the aftershocks.

Emily brings her fingers to her mouth—slick and shiny—and licks them clean, one at a time. She moans at the taste, slow and deliberate.

“God,” she mutters, “you taste even better than I imagined.”

Then, without warning, she leans in and pinches your clit—sharp and fast.

You jolt. “F-fuck—Emily!”

Before you can recover, her palm slaps your pussy once—a wet, loud sting that makes your hips jerk and your eyes go wide.

She grins darkly. “Just making sure you remember who made you come like that.”

You’re still catching your breath when she moves up your body, climbing on top of you with the same effortless power that’s been driving you wild all night. Her mouth latches onto your breast without warning—hot, open-mouthed kisses that turn into biting. Her teeth graze your nipple, then she sucks hard, making you arch in a sharp mix of pain and pleasure.

“Sensitive?” she murmurs, eyes flicking up to watch your reaction. “Too fucking bad.”

She does it again. And again. Alternating sides, biting, sucking, marking you as thoroughly as she claimed your cunt. Your nipples throb, swollen and red, but you never ask her to stop. You don’t want her to.

You’re already shaking again when she finally pulls back.

Then she stands up.

And slowly—so slowly—she starts to undress.

The way she peels off her button-down is obscene. Her eyes never leave yours as she slides it from her shoulders, revealing toned arms, a black lace bra, and the kind of quiet confidence that makes your stomach flip. She undoes her belt next, tugging her slacks down over her hips—no underwear beneath.

Her body is stunning. Real. Experienced. Power and sex wrapped in one devastating package.

She unhooks her bra last, letting it fall to the floor, and tosses it aside like she already knows she won’t be needing it again tonight.

“Lie back,” she commands. “And keep your mouth open.”

You do.

She straddles the couch again, but this time it’s your face she’s hovering over.

You don’t even get a warning.

She grinds down onto you—wet, hot, already soaked—and grabs the back of your head, holding you in place. Her scent is intoxicating. You moan into her, tongue immediately finding her clit, licking her like you were born for it.

Emily groans—deep and raw—as she starts to move. Her hips roll against your face, using you like her own personal toy. You flick your tongue faster, sucking her clit when she rocks forward, flattening it when she tilts her hips back.

“Just like that,” she pants. “Fucking god, baby. Don’t stop.”

She leans back slightly, one hand in your hair, the other gripping the armrest for balance. Her thighs are tight around your head. Her moans grow louder, sharper, filthier.

“You love this, don’t you? Love being used like this—face full of my pussy, tongue fucking me like a desperate little whore.”

You moan in response, tongue plunging deeper, licking up every drop she gives you. She tastes incredible—musky, sweet, intense. You press your hands to her ass, pulling her down harder, letting her grind against your tongue however she wants.

Her movements get rougher, more erratic. She’s close.

“So fucking good,” she growls. “Gonna come all over your face, baby. Gonna soak you.”

And then she does.

Emily cries out, voice cracking, thighs trembling. She grinds down hard, riding your mouth through her orgasm, hips jerking with each wave. You drink her in, moaning into her cunt, loving every second of being her personal plaything.

She finally goes still—shaky, flushed, breathless—and looks down at you with a wicked smile.

“Now that’s how you prove you can handle an older woman.”

Emily’s still above you, her body glistening with sweat, her chest rising and falling fast as she catches her breath. Her thighs are still slightly trembling where they straddled your face, but there’s a grin on her lips—feral, proud. You made her come. Hard. But she’s far from done.

She leans down, kissing you deeply, not caring that her own slick is still wet on your chin. If anything, it turns her on more. Her tongue pushes past your lips with purpose, tasting herself on you, groaning when you moan into her mouth. The kiss is messy, needy—more animal than anything else. It’s tongues and teeth and heat.

Then, without a word, she pulls you up into her lap—managing to keep control of the moment even as your legs wrap around her waist. Her hands are firm at your hips, guiding you as she lowers both of you onto the rug in front of the fireplace, the flames throwing flickering amber light across your skin.

She shifts, and suddenly her thigh presses between yours—and you realize what she’s doing. You gasp.

“Oh my god—Emily…”

She hushes you with a kiss to your throat. “You said you could take me,” she murmurs. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

She positions her legs, and yours, until your pussies align—slick, sensitive, bare skin pressed to bare skin. You both inhale sharply at the first touch—hot, swollen, aching.

You grind forward first. Tentative. Exploring.

Emily exhales, slow and low. “There you go. That’s it, baby.”

You keep moving—rubbing yourself against her, your soaked folds sliding against hers, clits brushing and catching, slick noises mixing with your broken gasps. Emily grabs your waist, meeting every grind with one of her own, panting, her eyes locked on yours.

You’re nose to nose. Chest to chest. Wet and wild and completely, deliciously lost in it.

She kisses you again—sloppier now, desperate—and as your moans tangle in each other's mouths, she reaches up and grabs your jaw, tilting your head back.

“Open your mouth.”

You do, lips parted, pupils blown wide.

She leans in, tongue barely out—and lets a thick strand of spit drip from her mouth into yours.

You swallow it without hesitation, moaning like it’s the filthiest, hottest thing in the world.

Emily’s eyes go dark.

“You really are my perfect little slut,” she breathes, before her hand wraps tight around your throat again. This time firmer. Possessive.

The pressure makes your vision blur around the edges, makes every rub of your body against hers so much more intense. She’s grinding up harder now—her hips relentless, chasing that edge again. And you’re right there with her, every nerve ending on fire, soaked and shaking and completely hers.

“Come with me,” she growls, tightening her hand just slightly as her pace quickens. “Let me feel you.”

Your body gives in first—heat rushing through you like a lightning strike, thighs trembling, pussy pulsing, mouth wide open but no sound coming out as you collapse into her. But Emily doesn’t stop. She thrusts against you one more time, lets out a choked groan, and her whole body stiffens beneath you as she comes with a low, breathless moan right into your neck.

You both stay there, tangled, gasping, foreheads pressed together.

Chest to chest.

Pussy to pussy.

Still pulsing.

Still connected.

Eventually, she loosens her grip on your throat and strokes your cheek instead, her thumb brushing gently across your lips.

“That,” she says, still catching her breath, “was only round one.”

And judging by the look in her eyes?

You believe her.

Even though her voice was still rough with dominance—“That was only round one”—her touch changes almost immediately afterward.

You’re still straddling her, still tangled up in heat and heartbeat and sweat, your body soft and pliant against hers, when she lets out a long breath. Her hand slips from your throat to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing along your cheekbone with surprising gentleness.

“You okay?” she murmurs.

You nod, still dazed. “More than okay…”

Emily kisses your temple, slow and grounding. Then she lifts you carefully off her lap, guiding you down onto the rug beside her. You watch her body move as she stands—graceful, still naked, still so stunning it makes your throat tighten.

But this time, she’s not stalking. She’s not commanding.

She disappears down the hall for a minute. You hear a faucet running. When she comes back, she’s got a warm, damp towel in one hand and a softer look in her eyes.

“Don’t move.”

You don’t.

She kneels between your legs and begins to gently clean you up—slow strokes between your thighs, catching the mess of both your orgasms with careful precision. It should feel embarrassing, being spread out and wiped down like this—but somehow, with her, it doesn’t. It feels intimate. Reverent, even.

“You were incredible,” she says softly, pressing the towel against your inner thigh one last time. “You took everything I gave you.”

You look up at her, eyes hazy, lips parted. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

She smirks, but there’s warmth behind it now. “I know.”

She rises again and tosses the towel into a nearby hamper, then offers you her hand. You take it, and she pulls you up into her arms. She doesn’t bother redressing yet—just walks with you, skin to skin, back to the bedroom, where she peels back the covers and lets you climb in first.

Then she slips in beside you, spooning behind you, her arm wrapped firm and protective around your waist.

You’re sore. Spent. Blissed out. And entirely, completely hers.

As sleep begins to pull you under, you feel her mouth brush against the back of your shoulder, and you hear her whisper:

“Next time, I’m tying you up.”

And god help you—your exhausted body still shivers at the thought.

[gayerthebetter]

I'm seeing so many people ask why Dip and Pip picked "so long, london" with some people even joking it's just for the name and nothing to do with the lyrics, but what if I told you that wasn't true at all (or I don't see it that way anyway lol)

First, if you have never heard the song, now is the time to pop it on and jump into my madness with me. Second thing is if you do know the song and the idea behind writing it for Taylor I want you to forget it lol, we're starting new… kind of.

See this song for both Dan and Taylor is about a break up, only the break up for Dan wasn't a romance one because in his case the break up was between him and us/youtube and how the hiatus had to happen. (now before we keep going, I just want to say that I am not saying Dan hates us or youtube, so plz no jumping to that)

Now let's jump into why that is!

"I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift"

Dan said before that he always knew II was a goodbye, that he was giving us everything he had so he could leave, for him leaving and the freedom to be himself and find out who he really was, something he said he didn't really know, was the fairy lights he could see at the end and was the thing to keep him going.

"I didn't opt in to be your odd man out I founded the club she's heard great things about I left all I knew, you left me at the house by the Heath"

Now we're onto the Youtube part, because of Dan's video we know that Youtube "loved" Dan after he came out and did use him to look good all as they told him they wanted to do all his ideas with him, ideas he said himself other people were wanting to make but that he turned down becuase he loved Youtube and wanted to work with them, ideas that he thought if he just did what they wanted they would help make real, ideas that they would all but ghost him about until they needed the next thing off him.

"I stopped CPR, after all it's no use The spirit was gone, we would never come to And I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free"

Dan "stopped CPR" aka he quit youtube, he gave them everything only to see it was never going to happen so he was done with them and went off to start doing the ideas himself, first idea being his tour WAD (i hope for the show so much, i would work for free tbh)

Now let's get back to us, the fans.

"And you say I abandoned the ship But I was going down with it My white knuckle dying grip Holding tight to your quiet resentment"

Since the hiatus it was and sometimes still is very much talked about how it was Dan's fault, after all he didn't want to be "dan and phil" anymore, he didn't want to do the gaming channel even as Phil was trying to get him to do just one little video here or there, even some people were hating on his new work becuase in their eyes he "abandoned" the phandom to do that.

Only the fun and joy we got from everything they did back then wasn't always the same for Dan and Phil, with Dan even saying that back in the day people trying to find out if he was gay was retraumatizing, and how he felt like he was lying to everyone and didn't even know who he was outside of dan and phil.

We didn't know just how hard Dan was fighting to keep going, and that when he got out, the very idea of going back to the way things were was awful to him (good news is they said themselves that everything is better and more fun now, and they can just be themselves now!)

"So how much sad did you think I had, Did you think I had in me? How much tragedy? Just how low did you think I'd go? Before I'd self-implode Before I'd have to go be free"

This is once more talking about how Dan couldn't keep on going and you could also see it as how using your sadness for your art (like dan's vids) can only go so far before you're empty of anything at all, or you want to be happy and you have to let things go, sometimes your art, to do that, at least until you can work with something other then your own pain, you need to work with hope and joy and everything in you not just the bad.

"You swore that you loved me but where were the clues? I died on the altar waiting for the proof You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days And I'm just getting color back into my face I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place"

Now you can see this both to youtube and to us, the idea of "love" but it not really being felt or shown and how dan got better but there still a sadness because he did love it all even in the bad times.

"For so long, London Had a good run A moment of warm sun But I'm not the one So long, London Stitches undone Two graves, one gun You'll find someone"

So in my mind London is youtube and the old phandom and the ways it felt with all the good and all the bad but that the best thing they ever did was leave.

(once again this is just a post I made becuase i like reading into songs way 2 much , also dan and phil had both said again and again that they loved us then and now so plz don't think i am trying to say they hate us or youtube, i really think they are having the most fun ever doing youtube like this)

[acid-ixx]

oooh so did we divorce Bruce, or is this an infidelity type of situation?

a loving family, an unpalatable desire: first meeting (unofficial)

— masterlist ! ; related post !

a/n: a tad bit nsfw. if this sounds messy, spare me. i'm running on like 4 hours of sleep and the will of a thirsty man in front of an oasis. i told yall im going insane for this plotline. ofc a&a still has my heart but I also love to occasionally write for smth else in the sidelines. send in more asks yall hehe.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

definitely an infidelity type of situation, anon! you see, the affair was caused by all mere coincidence. you were to attend with bruce in one of lex luthor's extravagant show of a gala, hold his arm for a brief moment when you walk out of the limousine, only to be abandoned right in the middle of the enormous room.

of course, the right reaction was to be pissed, to badmouth the very man who decided to court and entertain others in front of you; but you chose to stay silent, biting back choked tears by stumbling over the buffet table, only to be met with stupid, overbearing paparazzi and journalists.

so when clark kent rushes in to save you from stuttering over the dozens of microphones and cameras shoved right in your face, granting them access to your pathetic sobs— it's only right that your first reaction was to lean against his body, dismissing the hushed, harsh gossips of journalists.

it was at a time where you're not aware of his identity of superman. well, bruce barely permits you to enter the batcave, only if you stubbornly pester alfred does he let you, only to kick you, his darling spouse right out the moment you step on the cold, hard floors of the lair.

so it's not... a bad thing, right? your husband had a child with another woman, raised him as his own, didn't even bother to notify you with his infidelity— so is it your fault if you slowly start to fall for a man who promises you the world? who actually has the ability to give you the world in the palm of your hands? whose kid lets you pamper him without any fight?

sure, he's coping with... the loss of his previous wife but you're such a perfect spouse, so undeniably attractive, captivating in the hearts of many. your distant eyes, the way you bite the inside of your cheeks, the way your body sways back and forth as if begging for someone, your husband, to provide you a pillar of support in the suffocating heat of paparazzi.

he could be that pillar, could be your support.

when he first came up to you, his intentions weren't to obtain gossip about the oh-so silent spouse of bruce wayne. he didn't even want to acknowledge your marital status, palms already taking your wrist just so he could lead you off to somewhere quieter.

"it's an interview," he whispers an excuse to your reddened ears. but the buzz of his breath, the warmth, the caged arm on your waist tells you it's more than that.

but you don't fight back, you'd rather be anywhere than be the spotlight of a media that eats you up, makes you doubt your marriage even more.

so you're grateful that someone came to your rescue.

this would be the first time you ever saw someone as a savior, and it's not superman, no. it's clark kent, your resident, widowed, journalist.

and for clark's case, you warm his bed better than anything else. you allow clark this sense of respite, a break from heroic activities. allow him to be human, just as he allows you to play your fantasies of being a house spouse; you're perfect for each other.

to hell with useless marriage papers that don't even give bruce a sense of obligation to act as your husband, right? what can it do, when you're absolutely smitten with the current life you're living?

the first stages of your infidelity with clark is confusing, but very much welcomed into your already hectic life.

firstly, you convince yourself, it was all mere 'emotional cheating'. you began texting clark, he does too. an occasional greeting in messages, a passing congratulation for something, then the next it was good morning messages, 'have you eaten breakfast yet?, 'how'd the appointment go?'.

you don't know when it started, when your feelings started, when you began an intimate to romantic relationship with the man— all you knew was that the moment he revealed his superhero identity was the moment he decided to bed you for the night, the moment you grant the man, now your partner, access to every part of your depraved body, made him make you beg for more, giving him all the time in the world to kiss your imperfections, to fondle sensitive parts long untouched, to leave lovebites deeper and darker than the ones you caught bruce with.

you can't help it, he's unknowingly handsome, especially when he invites you over to his ma and pa's farm the next day, pretending to not notice the way your eyes hungrily flit over his topless body, sweat and budding pecs encased in a muscled form. over the course of dinner, you kept biting your lips, warm cheeks at the implications that clark merely wanted to sit next to you just so he could handfeed you, something about him being prideful that you'd definitely enjoy this week's harvest... but his fingers circling your thighs just seems to get you brain all haywired.

yet you stay, and continue visiting for long hours either way, enjoying the man's attention.

you know it's wrong, he knows it's wrong. but the way his son, jon looks at you like you mean the world, the way he's slowly starting to heal the longer you stay over at his place makes clark want to... what's the word? ah, he wants to turn you into his loving trophy spouse. all you need to do is provide jon with all the support in the world.

as for bruce... well, him and his family can deal with your absence for the first few months. but when the lingering feeling of emptiness becomes too much, when bruce no longer feels the worried gazes, or when dick can't hear anymore laughter in one of the supposed 'barren' rooms, or when tim's security systems tracked a missing device, one now in a completely different city.

that's when they start to yearn for someone they purposely let go

[yuons]

THE NIGHT IS STILL YOUNG ﹑ enhypen

──── at the club with enhypen

( 新书 ) ── fem!r . . . 19OO ! con ♡︎ warns. skinship kissing est. rs non-proofread PAGES

juni ˊᗜˋ this took so so long oh my gosh .. wouldn’t have posted this if O7z didn’t threaten me to

𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝘰𝗀𝗌♥︎𝑓𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 ─── 𝖼𝗅𝑖𝖼𝗄

LEE HEESEUNG

heeseung has always been protective of you, no doubt. but everytime you two go to the club it seems like his instinct doubles. even when he looks loose and happy, his hands still perch on your thigh, rubbing it up and down unconsciously while he talks to his friends.

when you want to buy a drink, heeseung makes sure to always pay even though he knows you feel bad whenever he does. promising you, that you can pay the next time (spoiler : you won’t).

you wondered how quick your boyfriend could be, even when you’re making a spontaneous night out, heeseung would somehow have a table ready for you, just in case you were tired from standing. in reality, he pays for the tables without you realizing, sliding his card to the waiter the moment you two step in.

something he loves most is when you both are back in the comfort of your home and he’s tucked you in fresh clothes, the warmth of the alcohol still in your system. you’d ramble dumbly on how much you loved him or recount how you fell for him, which never stopped his heart from clenching at how adorable you were. only when heeseung presses a firm kiss on your lips did you finally pause and slowly dozed off with a sweet smile plastered on your face.

“i really love my boyfriend,” you mumble, sleepily.

he grins, “i really love you too.”

PARK JONGSEONG

jay loves holding you whenever, his hands are always on you. more so in bars or clubs because he knew there were creeps who liked staring at you. he never stopped you from wearing whatever you wanted, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t get pissed whenever someone’s looking at you too much. when it happens, jay would circle his hands on your waist, kissing your neck lightly, right on the person’s line of sight just to leave them the right message.

he lets you get loose because he knows he’ll always be there to protect you. even though you’re on the other side of the frat house, jay somehow manages to catch you whenever you almost slip from being too intoxicated.

jay has everything you love listed down, so it was no surprise when he hands you your favorite cocktail in the first 5 minutes of stepping into the club. he’s attentive, pouring you a cup of water to water down the alcohol when you get a bit too tipsy on a weekday. he knows you don’t like getting drunk on a night before big presentations.

it wasn’t a shock that jay knew how to deal with your drunken self— holding you by your waist as he bids everybody goodbye, trying to balance you who had no intention to leave yet. once you end up back at his apartment he’d lay you on his bed and wiped off your makeup as you smile dumbly at him.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you” his heart must’ve burst at how adorable you looked. that sleepy smile you sported — he would never trade you for anyone else.

SIM JAEYUN

it was clear that jake never liked going to parties. even before dating you, he was the last person to be found in a frat party. that only ever really changed because he met you. you whose usually holed up in your bedroom studying, also likes going to parties to his surprise.

he found out later on it was to let yourself loose amidst stressful schedules. that’s when jake, who despises parties. jake, who would walk away from a crowd. jake, who’d rather be in the comfort of his home, now offers his girlfriend to go to parties every month or two. going so far as to paying for your ticket the moment you show any signs of wanting to go.

when you’re around, any place seems to be bearable for him. jake found himself enjoying the music or maybe that was your laugh? he didn’t know. but he’d do anything to see you smile so loosely like that everyday.

jake also found out you were quite endearing when you’re drunk. talking his ear off about whatever found your interest by the next second. it was already annoying how he’d still listen intently when he knew there was no end to the conversation. it was more annoying to your sober self when you remembered he did all that while helping you get ready for bed.

“i hate you” you suddenly blurt after a long moment of silence, watching him.

“why?” jake’s mouth was slightly agape, his hands hovering over your arms, holding a wet cloth.

“you’re so nice to me it’s hard to not fall for you” you didn’t even get to remember what he replied with. but you had a feeling about it from how giddy he looked the next morning.

PARK SUNGHOON

usually it’s rare to see sunghoon passing off a drink when he’s already an hour into a party, more so when it’s only a light drink— 5% alcohol. it was a wonder to his friends until they noticed he started trailing off behind you, it wasn’t hard, then, to make out that you two are dating.

not when sunghoon’s hands were always on you, glaring off anyone who were bumping into you too harshly. all while you were oblivious to it, rather pulling him every which way to meet people. your giving him a field day with how many people almost stumbled into you while you were walking, scared you’d get hurt.

ultimately, jay got you to drink 2 shots and not long after got told off by none other than sunghoon himself — even though he knew it was technically your choice. he just didn’t want his friends to influence you too much, he knew how crazy they can go.

sunghoon who pulls you out of the party once it starts to get boring and you were starting to look tipsy or tired, carrying you onto his motorcycle. strapping his helmet on you, his hands holding yours tight to rest on him while he speeds through the night, even when you tell him not to. just so he can feel your arms tighten around him. his big smile hidden entirely from you.

“hoon slow down!” you shout after another quick turn, hitting his stomach lightly, your chin resting on his shoulder and your eyes closed tight.

“i’m not going that fast, baby” he chuckles, knowing he exactly is.

KIM SUNOO

sunoo is the bubbly one in your relationship, he’s so upbeat and it doesn’t fall short in loud settings. it was the first time he dragged you along, he’s fast to introduce to you his closest friends who were already holding their own bottles, half empty.

you weren’t a fan of drinking, but when you offered a free one you had no mind to pass up. sunoo made sure to ask you enough if you were sure you wanted to, and you, each time told him you do.

he’s never seen you drunk, he’s never even seen you tipsy, it was a shock to sunoo when you looked so bright and loose after drinking half a bottle. instead of him, you were the one dragging your boyfriend to the dance floor, laughing along with him as you both sing lightly along to the dj.

sunoo ended up having to hold you tightly while you were stumbling, you walking infront of him, his body pressed to yours from behind, his hands on your hips as he walks you both back to your table.

“we should go more often” you hum to him, you head laying on his chest while you two observed the people around.

“of course, babe, anything you want” he murmurs, his hands raking through your hair.

YANG JUNGWON

you were at the club with your friend, deciding to fill up your night instead of doing nothing. you didn’t expect to bump into jungwon on the way to the restrooms. when he recognized you, his eyes lit up pulling you close for a hug. a hug that felt too warm for you to let go.

jungwon pulled you and your friend to the bar, that was when you realized he was already slightly intoxicated. he seems a little off rythmn than he usually is when you meet him in your classes. it didn’t stop him, however, from ordering more. when he handed you one shot you just looked up at him, he thought you don’t drink so he just smiled and placed the shot cup down. it wasn’t that, it was because you knew how expensive the drinks were here so you opt to go sober throughout the whole night, you were confused on why jungwon would spend so much on just a single shot for you.

when you caught up, you down the shot and he turned to you. when he saw your content expression he turned to the bartender to order a few more shots for the three of you, your friend offering him an appreciative smile. you three cheered and downed the shots quickly, jungwon then invited you guys to go out and meet his friends.

as it creeps closer to 2 am, jungwon offers to give you a ride home. he promised the alcohol has seeped out of him and he’s already sober, but you were still concerned.

“i’m fine, pretty” jungwon hums, towering over you as you lean on a pole.

“are you sure? how would i know you’re not going to make us crash?” you frowned. jungwon leaned down and his lips hovered over yours.

“i can tell you how you taste, will that make you trust me?”

NISHIMURA RIKI

if anything, you were the one who had to hold riki back from getting too wasted. once he stepped into the place, you were lucky enough to find him 20 minutes later at the bar. it was a struggle trying to catch up with him, you couldn’t look away for anything longer than a few seconds or he’d slip out of your grip.

it wasn’t a surprise than you found riki again later already tipsy, dabbing up random people as he mingled. you, who spent half the time trying to find him, sport a frown and a disgruntled expression when you walk up to him.

the moment riki saw you, he grins and pulls you close to him, hugging you tight. you felt his hands rubbing your waist, he leaned down and mumbled something in your ear that you couldn’t make out, you were about to ask until his friend pulled him away from you.

you didn’t have time to see him again until the party dropped and everyone were either blackout drunk or too tired to move. you found riki passed out on a couch, his friends calling you over to help him get home. it was a wonder how you managed to get him into the taxi.

riki mumbled something suddenly, you hummed and brough your face closer to his, hoping to hear what he’s saying.

“you look s’ stunning tonight, wish you were mine” he groans out, repositioning his head that was laying on your lap.

“thanks, ki” you clear your throat deciding to ignore the last bit, “you don’t look too bad yourself”

you catch his grin.

join my taglist ?

[spiderb00]

- GREEN-EYED MOSTER

Yoo Jaeyi x reader  

“all you were doing was following your girlfriend's plan. But all she saw was green"

Genre – fluff?        warnings - none 

Now playing – Blank Space, by Taylor Swift

“So it's gonna be forever. Or it's gonna go down in flames"

Jaeyi doesn't know exactly when it all started to taste bitter in her mouth, she just knows that at some point the time you were spending with Ye-ri started to piss her off.

She knows it was her idea, I mean, of course you wouldn't be that close to Ye-ri if you didn't have your girlfriend's permission. Not in your dreams would you be so close to another girl without Jaeyi knowing about it. The big deal is that Jaeyi began to bitterly regret the plan she thought up when she saw how comfortable Ye-ri was feeling around you.

Everyone at that school knew you belonged to Yoo Jaeyi, and no one dared lay a finger on you, spoke up, stared too long, or lusted after you. No one was crazy enough to try to defy Jaeyi, at least not until now.

As much as all this bothered your girlfriend, she knew that you would NEVER prefer Ye-ri to her. But Ye-ri's intrusive behavior was already getting on her nerves. The long touches, the way Ye-ri laughed at your stupid jokes, you following Ye-ri to all her classes like an obedient puppy... All of this irritated Jaeyi, because you weren't Ye-ri's! She couldn't be that comfortable with you! You're Jaeyi's!

And she was going to make you remember that.

She waited patiently in your room. The light from your desk lamp faintly illuminating the room in yellow, Jaeyi's cell phone showing your location in real time. She'd seen you walk up to Ye-ri's house - and she'd calculated exactly how long you'd stood at the door, just to make sure Ye-ri wouldn't ask you to come in - minutes before, but now, you're almost at your own house, your steps calm, as if you don't have any worries to deal with.

Jaeyi's phone had already notified her of two messages from you, just asking how she was and if she'd arrived home yet. Her eyes narrowed at this, and she let out a sarcastic snort. “Oh, now you want to know how I am...” That's what she said after seeing your message.

Jaeyi was startled slightly by the sound of the door opening, not even realizing that she had disassociated long enough for you to finally arrive home. She heard your footsteps coming up the stairs, settling into the armchair in your room as if she owned the place (maybe she did).

When the door opened, her eyes immediately landed on you. You were there, confusion stamped on your face as you scratched your head, looking at your phone and probably wondering why your girlfriend hadn't answered your messages yet.

You sat on the edge of the bed with an annoyed huff, still unaware of your girlfriend's presence two meters away from you. “She always makes me answer her messages immediately, but she can't answer a single fucking message.”

Jaeyi's eyebrow arched, surprised that you were saying things like that about her when you were alone, when while you were with her, all you did was nod and agree like an idiot puppy.

“Is that what you say about me when you're alone?” Jaeyi's voice echoed through the silent room.

You startled, jumping onto the bed and almost falling face-first onto the floor. With agility, you managed to put your hands on the floor, looking at the armchair in the corner of your room, only to see your girlfriend with that characteristic little smile that sent shivers down your spine.

“Jagiya!” The name came out of your lips automatically. "Fuck, you scared me! What are you doing here? And why didn't you answer me?"

Your questions were ignored, as was the feeling of love Jaeyi felt when she heard you call her by her nickname.

“Did you have fun with Ye-ri?”

The question made your head tilt slightly to the left, confused as if the youngest of the Yoo's had asked an absurd question - which she doesn't think is the case.

"I left her at home... But I haven't gotten anything out of what she's doing with your father yet, sorry." You've barely finished speaking before you hear your girlfriend's sarcastic giggle.

She was still sitting in the armchair, staring at you kneeling on the floor next to your bed. She loved seeing how dumb you looked in front of her, it was almost as if she sucked all the knowledge out of your brain and left it trapped between her fingers, only letting it slip out when she wanted it to.

“That's a surprise, given the fact that she's so close to you.” Jaeyi's gaze was challenging, almost as if she wanted you to ask what she was talking about.

“All right, I really don't understand.” You got up from the floor, putting your hands on your waist, trying to make yourself look bigger in front of your girlfriend.

“Of course you don't understand.” She stood up from the armchair, and you took a step back. Your hands fell away from your waist, being positioned uncomfortably next to your body. “You're just too innocent a puppy to notice that Ye-ri is shamelessly hitting on you!”

Her words hit you hard, you hadn't realized that Ye-ri was hitting on you, you thought it was just her, being the usual flirtatious girl. Well, it seems you were wrong.

"I was just following your plan, jagiya. I didn't want you to feel that way..."

Jaeyi's footsteps echoed through the room, she slowly approached you.

“Like what, jagiya?” She asked, raising her hand to run her fingers through your hair.

“You know...” You replied, tilting your head and closing your eyes. Letting yourself be carried away by her fingers caressing your scalp. “Jealous.”

The giggle that came out of your girlfriend's mouth made you open your eyes again, looking at her only to find that she was already looking at you with those beautiful eyes.

"Oh jagiya... I'm not jealous, I'm just going to make sure you know you're mine!"

just testing again ;)

i told you how obsessed i was with “friendly rivalry” and then some of you told me to write to the girls and here i am.

i hope you like it, it's not much but it's something ;)

drink water and stay safe

xoxo, spider.

[velvetinks]

He didn’t know

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, Joel’s death, graphic grief, emotional breakdown, heavy themes of loss, Ellie grieving, mention of violence, tear-jerker

You were eight weeks pregnant when Joel died.

You’d known for three.

You’d planned to tell him the night before he left for patrol. You made stew. You wore the dress he liked. You rehearsed the words in your head until they lost their meaning.

But when he sat down at the dinner table, looking tired and distant—like something was weighing on him that he wouldn’t say—you didn’t bring it up.

You figured you’d wait.

One more day.

Just one.

And now there was no more time.

Just silence. And his blood in the snow.

You didn’t cry in front of anyone.

Not at the service. Not when Tommy placed Joel’s jacket in your arms. Not when Ellie stood next to you at the grave with red eyes and a clenched jaw like she was holding the world back by force.

But you broke that night.

Alone. On the floor of the house you used to share. In the bed where he kissed you last. In the doorway where he said, “I’ll be back in a few days,” and meant it.

You screamed into a pillow until your throat was raw.

You whispered to the child growing inside you, promised them you’d be strong. That they’d know his name. That they’d never feel unloved, even though they’d never hear his voice.

But you didn’t tell anyone.

Not yet.

Because if you said it out loud, it would be real.

Ellie showed up a week later.

She looked like she hadn’t slept. Eyes dull, fists balled in her jacket.

You let her in without a word.

She didn’t speak, either. Just walked into the living room and stood in the middle of it—like she wasn’t sure whether to sit or scream or run.

You poured her tea. Neither of you touched it.

Finally, she spoke.

“I keep thinkin’ about the last thing I said to him,” she muttered. “It was some dumb joke. Something about him being too slow. I was pissed about the patrol rotation, and I snapped at him.”

You said nothing. Let her bleed the guilt out.

She sat down hard on the couch.

“I didn’t mean it,” she said. “He was just… he was trying. And I was still so mad about—about Salt Lake. About the lie. But he was still him, you know?”

Your throat ached. “Yeah.”

“He was starting to come back to me. I could feel it.”

You stared at the fire. At the embers that were dying, same as everything else.

“I was gonna tell him,” you whispered suddenly.

Ellie looked up.

“What?”

You didn’t cry—not yet. You just held your stomach. Your flat, quiet stomach.

“I was gonna tell him,” you repeated. “I was pregnant. I am pregnant. I—fuck, I waited. I thought it would be better after the patrol, when he was home and rested and warm and safe and…”

You covered your mouth. It didn’t help the sob that broke through.

Ellie didn’t move at first. She just stared at you, wide-eyed and hollowed out.

Then she stood, crossed the room, and knelt in front of you like she was afraid to break you just by getting close.

She reached for your hand.

“Does anyone else know?”

You shook your head.

“I was scared. I didn’t know what he’d say. I didn’t want to, what if he thought it was a mistake?”

Ellie let out a breath that sounded like a laugh. Or a sob. Maybe both.

“He wouldn’t have. Not for a second.”

“You sure?”

“He would’ve freaked out,” she said. “Made a big show of being too old and too tired. Said dumb Joel shit like, ‘You sure it’s mine?’ just to piss you off.”

You smiled despite the ache in your ribs.

“But then he’d build a crib,” she said. “Fix the roof twice even if it didn’t need it. Start chopping wood every morning at five just in case.”

You looked at her. She looked at you.

“He would’ve loved that kid,” she whispered.

“I know.”

Silence stretched between you. Soft and bitter.

Then Ellie stood and grabbed one of Joel’s old flannels off the back of the chair. She held it to her chest for a second, then handed it to you.

“Let me help.”

“What?”

“When the baby comes. I don’t know shit about anything, but—I can help. If you want me to.”

You stared at her.

A girl with too much pain in her bones and too much Joel in her eyes.

You nodded.

And for the first time since you heard him scream

You didn’t feel completely alone.

[imsogonesposts]

I Only Threw This Party for You

|| ao3 || steve masterlist || requests are open!! || an: based on the song "party 4 u" by charli xcx ||

summary: When the two of you were dating, you would go to every party every weekend with Steve. Now that you’ve broken up, he’s thrown a party in hopes of you making an appearance. (wc: 1429)

warnings: mentions of underage drinking, partying, great gatsby spoilers, i talk about the great gatsby despite never reading/seeing it, king steve, and i think thats it!!

Steve Harrington was known for many things. For his hair, his looks, his endless flirting, his parties.  In fact, the words “Steve Harrington,” and “parties” were practically synonymous.  If someone wanted to find Steve Harrington, one of the first places they knew to check was this weekend’s party.

He never went to parties alone though. He had always brought you along with him, not so he could have a girl on his arm, but because he wanted to spend time with you. And even though you never liked any of the parties Steve took you to (they were always too loud, with too many drunk, uncoordinated teenagers, and not enough space to do much of anything), you always accompanied him to each party because you wanted to spend time with your boyfriend as well, even if it meant being at a party you hated. 

It seemed though that Steve never quite got the memo that you never liked the parties as much as he did, because now he’s throwing a party in his too-empty house, leaning against the counter as he watches everyone around him get drunk, dance, and have fun, as his eyes are trained to the door, willing you to come inside as he ignores every girl that thinks they now have a chance with him now that he’s freshly single. But none of them are you. 

The two of you had broken up almost a week ago, with you telling him how his friends treated you horribly, and you couldn’t deal with being “King Steve’s” girlfriend anymore. That you didn’t like the popularity or the parties or the constant stares whenever the two of you were together in the halls. 

At first, Steve had thought you were bluffing, you always seemed to be having fun at the parties he took you to, but as the hours grew longer, and Steve downed water after water (not beer, in case you showed up, he wanted to talk to you completely sober) Steve started to realize he might have been wrong. Maybe you really didn’t like the parties, maybe this party that he threw for you was all for nothing. You weren’t going to show, not only did you not like parties, but even if you did, why would you go to one hosted by your ex?

Steve felt so stupid. 

He remembers you telling him about “The Great Gatsby,” a book you had to read for your English class, and how Gatsby would throw parties in hopes of getting Daisy’s attention, and Steve can’t help but feel like him. Steve can’t remember if Gatsby’s parties ever worked in his favor, but god did he wish it would work for him. He was slowly starting to understand how you felt at parties, why you probably didn’t like them. Because without you here to keep him company and kiss him stupid, there really was no point. He felt like he could be drowned by the loud music filling the house as he watched the people around him laugh and dance and drink their hearts away. The stench of alcohol reached his nose and it almost made him sick. 

He can’t believe he ever used to think any of this was fun.

***

You had heard about the party Steve had thrown over the weekend. You heard it was fun until something pissed Steve off enough that he had kicked everyone out of his house. 

The selfish part of you thought good, why is he throwing a party so quickly after you had just broken up? While the calmer, still quietly falling for Steve part couldn’t help but question is everything alright? He never turned down a party before.

You had closed your locker with a sigh, only to be startled by a tall figure holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers over his face, slowly lowering it to reveal himself to be Steve. 

“Hey,” he whispered out. 

“Hi,” you replied with a confused look. 

Steve only sighed, leaning against the lockers as he took you in, looking at you as if it was the last time he’d get to see you, and he was scared it would be. That after right now, the only time he would ever get to see you again would be through stolen glances from across the hall. He couldn’t let that happen. 

“I’m sorry,” he started off, eyes now trained onto your shoes as if scared to see what your reaction would be. “I was a shitty boyfriend, and I was stupid and blind, and didn’t realize what I had right in front of me, and I’m sorry for… for everything.”

Steve only risks a glance up, meeting your eyes, when you stay silent for what he thinks to be far too long. 

“I’m sorry,” he quietly repeats. 

“I heard you threw a party,” is all you respond, and Steve feels a part of him deflate at that. He just poured his heart out, apologized, and you want to talk about the party?

Steve nods with a sigh. “Yeah, it was stupid. It was for you, but it was stupid, I know you don’t like that crap. I’m sorry if you ever felt like you had to go to the parties cause of me.”

You furrow your brows at his confession. “What do you mean it was for me?” You ask.

Steve only shrugs, the flowers in his hand moving along with his movement as he scratches the back of his neck out of nervousness. “I don’t know, I was kinda hoping you’d show up or something, like in ‘The Great Gatsby.’”

“You didn’t read ‘The Great Gatsby,’ you reply as Steve shrugs with a small smile. It was true, he hardly ever paid attention in his English class, and had fallen asleep during most of the class readings.

“No,” he replies, “I didn’t, but I do listen when you talk to me, believe it or not.”

And despite yourself, something inside of you warms at that, and you can’t help but let out a small smile. “You know Gatsby and Daisy don’t end up together right?”

He did not know that. “I know,” Steve replies, eyes moving to the bouquet he was still holding. “Doesn’t mean the party thing isn’t kind of romantic.”

“Is this your way of trying to get back together with me?” You ask as Steve sighs.

“It’s my way of apologizing,” he replies, moving his gaze from the flowers to you, looking at you with nothing but sincerity and sorrow in his eyes. “I’m not expecting you to take me back at the first apology, but I wanted you to know that I was sorry, and that I dropped most of my old friends. Including Tommy and Carol.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in shock at that. “You what?”

“They were a bunch of assholes,” Steve calmly replies with a small shrug. Tommy and Carol had been one of the main reasons the two of you had broken up. You didn’t like how they treated you, treated Steve, or treated those around them, and he dropped them, just like that.

“I forgive you,” is all you can reply as Steve breaks out into a wide grin. 

“Yeah?” He asks, an almost boyish smile across his face. 

You nod with a smile, hesitantly taking his hand in yours before taking the bouquet of flowers in your free hand. “You can make it all up to me by taking me to the diner? Friday?”

Steve interlocks his fingers through yours, like your hands were a lock and key, meant to fit together, as he nods happily. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll pick you up.” He then raises his right hand, the one not holding your own hand, and tells you, “and no more parties, no more Tommy and Carol, none of it, Scout’s Honor.”

You can’t help but laugh at his dramatics. 

“You don’t need to stop going to parties, Steve,” you tell him, as he shakes his head no, squeezing your hand once again with a smile. 

“Are you kidding? Parties are boring as hell without you. I’d rather be doing literally anything else, so long as you’re there.” 

And with that, you move to press a kiss to his cheek, feeling his smile grow as your lips touch his skin. 

“See you later, Stevie,” you reply as you walk in the opposite direction to your class. 

Steve’s smile can only grow even more, if that’s even possible, as he hears you call him the nickname he thought he’d never get to hear from you again. 

[steddieas-shegoes]

not to me

for @steddielovemonth inspired by the quote “I’ll take care of you” “it’s rotten work” “not to me. Not if it’s you”

rated t | 947 words | cw: injury recovery | tags: pre-relationship, post-Vecna, friends to lovers, getting together, first kiss, disabled Eddie Munson

👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️

“Fuck!” Eddie yells as he throws his hands up in frustration.

He’s been trying to stand on his own for days now, and the furthest he’s gotten is pulling himself most of the way up. His legs shake. He falls back down.

Repeat again until he finally isn’t even strong enough to get himself upright.

Wayne’s always home, but he doesn’t watch. At least he doesn’t let Eddie know if he is. But he’s home in case Eddie ends up hurting himself or falling onto something other than his bed or the couch.

Steve’s come by a few times, offering to be a steady body to hold onto. He doesn’t accept the offer. Usually, he jokes that Wayne’s the only man he’s ever trusted and distracts him with something else.

“Alright, Ed?” Wayne calls to him from the kitchen.

“Fine!” Eddie calls back because he doesn’t want Wayne to come into his room and see him splayed out in his bed while his walker is still unused by his bed. He glares at the wheelchair in the corner of the room.

The doctors said he’d be in it for a long time, maybe months, but he’s determined to prove them wrong. They also said he wouldn’t play guitar again, but he was already able to play most of the chords.

He hears a car pull up outside and he just knows it’s Steve. Of course he would come over now.

The car door opens and closes.

The front door opens and closes.

Wayne greets him like he’s an old pal and he kind of is. It’s a little weird how close they’ve become since Eddie woke up, but whatever.

There’s a knock on his bedroom door before it opens.

Closes.

Steve looks nice. Not dressed up, necessarily, but he’s wearing his good jeans and a new polo. His hair is done a little less carefree, more like he actually went through the phases of blow drying it, putting product in it, and then showing up here to drive Eddie and his unrequited crush crazy.

He smells nice, too.

“Is that a new cologne?”

“It’s not new, I just only wear it for dates.”

Eddie’s heart sinks. It shouldn’t.

Not only is Eddie a man, but he’s also weird. And, at this current time, he’s pretty much bedbound or being pushed around in a wheelchair.

Steve’s a good guy, but he isn’t gonna waste the good cologne on visiting Eddie.

“Oh. Where you taking her? Movies? Dinner?” Eddie sits up so he doesn’t have to look up at Steve. His mind starts to wander to other reasons Steve might be above him, but luckily, Steve answers before he gets carried away.

“I’m taking you to my place,” Steve replies simply.

“I thought you were going on a date?”

“I am. I’m taking you to my house.”

“No offense, but I’d rather not sit alone at your house while you’re on a date,” Eddie snorts. “Is this because Wayne’s leaving in the morning for a weekend trip? I swear I’ll be fine on my own. Dustin’s coming by tomorrow anyway.”

“Eddie.” Steve takes both of his hands. “I’m taking you to my house for a date. You and me. On a date. I’m making dinner for us and I thought you could help me make a character sheet.”

Eddie must’ve fallen and hit his head. He must’ve blacked out. Wayne will be so pissed that his independence has landed him in the hospital again.

“You’re saying words to me. I hear them.”

Steve groans. He lets go of Eddie’s hands and cups his face instead.

“Wayne said this would be difficult.” He rubs his thumb against Eddie’s cheek, smirking. “You’re awake. You’re alive. I’m really here in front of you. I’m asking you to come to my house so I can charm you and maybe kiss you at the end of our date. And then you can stay at mine, but there’s no expectations. I have the guest room made up for you.”

“This is crazy. You realize this is crazy?” Eddie squeaks. “You’re not even gay!”

“I’m a little gay,” Steve laughs. “And I really like you.”

“But-“ Eddie turns to his wheelchair. He’s definitely gonna need it to get outside and then back inside Steve’s house. And then he’ll probably need help getting upstairs to the guest room, or Steve’s room if he’s lucky. “You’ll have to help me. For a long time maybe. The doctors might have been right on this. I can’t even stand, let alone walk. And I’m miserable about it. What you walked in on was my 28th attempt at getting up to use my walker today and I’m no closer than I was on day one, attempt one. It’ll be a lot of fucking work, taking care of me.”

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

Eddie’s speechless for quite possibly the first time in his life.

“Can I kiss you?”

Eddie nods once. Steve beams at him, like he’s given him the best gift he’s ever received.

He gets lightheaded almost immediately. Steve’s lips are gentle against his, full of so much tenderness and love. It’s almost more than he can handle.

Eddie chases his lips as Steve pulls away.

“Don’t stop,” Eddie whines.

“I’m gonna take you home. We’re gonna have a date. And then we’re gonna kiss again. Let me treat you right, though,” Steve says and winks.

“You stop that. I can’t handle your winking.”

Steve laughs, kisses him again. He leans back and claps his hands together.

“Alright, let’s get you in the chair so we can get home. Dinner’s gonna take about an hour to make.”

[calmcoldevening]

Hey hon, just read your Art x virgin HC. Although I kinda wanted to pick your brain on reader x confused inexperienced Virgin! Art…

Virgin!Art the clown x reader

Tw: smut, nsfw

Note: it's short but I tried. Show this guy real pleasure, babe

• Art got used to the fact that his human body was capable of feeling cold or in rare cases needing food, although his demonic abilities still made him immortal. But some other physiological issues remained incomprehensible to him.

• Art doesn't know how or why he left you alive and relatively unharmed, but your presence seemed almost bearable to him. He is used to the fact that you are often around, that you cook for him and from time to time blow his brains out with your discontent, like why he left traces of blood on the floor in your bathroom again.

• But it was okay, really okay. Art got used to it after a couple of weeks, accepting it as his new reality. At least you didn't scream once again and didn't try to turn him over to the police (he knew perfectly well that some boys in blue wouldn't stop him in any way, but he didn't want to shine once again before his next loud bloody "show")

• But sometimes he wondered why your body was different from his own. He's seen you change clothes or walk around the house in just a towel or underwear a hundred times, and he's seen women's bodies under his knife a million more times. And it really occupied his brain. The difference was obvious.

• Art saw some guys flirting with you in a bar a few times, and it pissed him off. You tried to laugh it off and try to get away from the guys, but they kept trying to touch you (of course, Art personally strangled them later). But he was interested in touching you as well. It looked strange, new to him.

• The first time he saw you naked, you never thought it would do anything to him. After all, you knew that Art wasn't really human, so you didn't expect any obvious reaction.

• But one day you came home pretty drunk and climbed up to Art with hugs. It was just awkward hugs on the couch and sloppy kisses. You sat on his lap with your arms around his neck and smeared his face paint with your grinning lips, whispering words like 'my handsome'. Art didn't expect any sensations. He had been in this situation before, and then he realized how stupid people can be under the influence of alcohol. But it felt different with you. He felt a strange burning sensation in his body, and his pants became uncomfortably tight under your warm thighs.

• Then he did not focus on it and the feeling quickly passed. But it came back later, when you weren't drunk anymore. He could just admire you for a long time or follow some female victim, unknowingly imagining you in her place. It made him very hard. His rapid breathing and heartbeat were driving him crazy, although he had long realized that his heart was almost dead in this body.

• But Art, surprisingly, liked the feeling. And the feeling of your weight in his arms was damn tempting.

• Although Art often thought about it, he did not know at all what it was called and why people felt it. That's why you were the one who initiated the whole thing.

• One dark evening, the two of you watched some kind of bloody horror movie that Art especially likes. Although he frowned and condemned the unreality of the bloody scenes with gestures. It is dark outside and heavy rain is dripping, pounding on the windows with force. Your hand gently took his gloved hand, tracing the rough cold knuckles. At first, he does not notice your touch, but gradually your hand moves higher and higher, gently wrapping around his neck. In one deft movement, you straddled his knees, pulling him closer to you by the neck. There's a sly smile on your face. Art's eyes widen in surprise, but he can't deny the anticipation growing in his chest, even though he didn't quite understand what you wanted from him.

• You gently move your hips back and forth, feeling the growing warmth under your body. Art didn't know that feeling. He seemed to be detached from his own body at the moment, but he was warm and pleasant. A strange tingling sensation in his body began to bother him a little. Your hands gently traced the fabric of his suit, your fingers gently glided over his makeup, sloppily smearing black lipstick. Art's hands instinctively rested on your hips, gently squeezing your flesh.

• His body was moving on its own. The strange tingling and growing heat were driving his brain crazy. The warmth of your soft thighs didn't help his frantic thoughts at all. The movie almost became background noise, all Art was focused on right now was you and the feelings you caused him.

• Art let out a soundless moan, feeling himself pressing against your body and feeling an almost painful pressure. But he frowned slightly, pressing your hips harder against his knees, and rolled his eyes for a moment. There was a momentary pleasant sensation through his body, which made his heart beat with renewed vigor, and his breathing quickened. God, you made him feel so good. He had never felt anything like this. His pants instantly got wet, pulling a satisfied chuckle out of you.

• "So fast sweet pie? Why don't we try again? 'm sure you'll like it more."

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part two

I'm bored so [smashes plate] ANOTHER! I've been writing this faster than I thought I would 🤭 Hope everyone is having lovely and relaxing holidays xx

Warnings: just angst and the case progressing! Hotch is kinda an asshole but it's just how they show their love to each other xoxo

“You and Hotch still got it, huh?” Morgan teases, leaning his head over to grin at you. Part of you missed car rides with Derek, and the other part of you remembers just how much of a little shit he can be.

“Shut up and look at the road,” you mutter, pushing his face away from you.

“I’m looking, I’m looking,” Derek taps the wheel, shaking his head to get your hand off him. “What is it with you two, anyway?”

You shrug nonchalantly. “We’ve never gotten along, you know that. You were there when we met.”

“Uh, yeah, I remember being glad Hotch got all the heat instead of me,” Derek chuckles. “You’re intimidating when you’re pissed off.”

“Good,” you say, smirking. “That’s the point.”

“Alright,” Derek says, letting the topic go. For now. “We’ve got five minutes ‘til we reach her house. What are we telling her?”

“Well, I want to take a look around, if you’d like to talk.”

“I can stall,” Derek nods.

“Five bucks says there will be no pictures of the father in the house, at least not in the living area or hallway, where family photos most commonly are.”

“You sound like Reid,” Morgan quips.

“Our IQ’s are really close,” you remind him. “I just don’t have a damn eidetic memory. That shit is insane. I don’t envy him there.”

“Me either,” Derek shakes his head. “I remember things plenty without a magic memory.”

“I hear that.”

Derek turns into the driveway of Lila’s home. One car is in the driveway, a silver Ford. Her mom’s car.

“Ready?” Derek asks.

“Never,” you reply, opening your door. “But it’s our job.”

Derek knocks on the front door, but stands back so you’re the first face the mom will see. Given who her ex-husband is, you suspect she might be distrustful of all men, regardless of whether or not they’re here to help.

As expected, the mom eyes Morgan’s badge more closely than yours.

“May we come inside?” you ask.

“Yes,” she says, pulling the door open to let you both inside. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Morgan says politely.

After shutting the door, the mom begins talking — rambling incoherently, more like.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, dropping her off at school this morning. I knew something felt off when I woke up, it just— I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Ma’am,” Derek says. “Please, sit down.”

“I can’t,” she says, waving both of her hands like windshield wipers in front of her body. “I need to pace. Helps me think better.”

Derek looks at you, and you shrug. She’s obviously too wound up to sit down. Which is a good sign. If she was indifferent or resigned, there would be a bigger issue at hand. Clearly, she had no idea this would happen, so she definitely wasn’t in on it.

You take a look around the living room while Derek calms the mother down, mostly just letting her ramble, and take mental notes of what to ask her about later.

As you predicted, there are no photos with the father in the picture. All of them are the mother and Lila, mostly baby photos. Lila is a pre-teen, she clearly doesn’t want her photo taken. There is one where Lila looks older, but she’s not happy.

You take a closer look. She’s really unhappy.

“Mrs. Monroe?” You turn toward her, a sympathetic smile on your lips. “Has Lila been depressed lately?”

Her mom nods. “She’s been struggling ever since uhm— Ever since her father left. I’ve had her in therapy every week, but her therapist says she’s not really opening up. She might later, but right now she just doesn’t talk at all. She doesn’t want to.”

“I understand,” you murmur. “You’ve done the right thing by getting her help. Even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.”

“She still ran away!” Mrs. Monroe cries.

“Please,” you move toward her, resting your hand on her arm. “Let’s sit. Can Agent Morgan get you a glass of water?”

She nods, looking up at Morgan. “Thank you.”

Derek disappears into the kitchen.

“What makes you think Lila ran away? Other than her mood, were there any other signs?”

Mrs. Monroe shakes her head. “She’s talked about it before, told me she wanted to run away and that she hated me. I thought therapy would help with that, but it hasn’t.”

“Would her father help her at all? Run away, I mean.”

“Richard?” Mrs. Monroe asks. Derek reappears with a glass of water, handing it to her. “Thank you. No, he wouldn’t, he— She doesn’t even know what he’s done. I’ve never told her.”

“Would she be capable of finding out?” Derek asks. He takes a seat in the chair adjacent to you, resting his elbows on his knees.

“No,” Mrs. Monroe shakes her head. “I monitor all of her Internet searches, who she texts, who she emails, everything. She thinks I drove him away. That I didn’t love him anymore and told him to get out. She doesn’t know that it was because I caught him burying a body.” She sobs into her hand, her words barely decipherable now. “And now she’s gone and she hates me and I don’t even know where she’d go— it’s like I don’t even know my own daughter.”

You take the glass from her hand and allow her to sob into your shoulder. You know what this is like. Because you were once Lila, a runaway who left her mother in pieces until she returned home. Your circumstances were different, but not by much at all.

“We will bring her home, I promise,” you say, despite yourself. Despite not knowing what the rest of this case will entail, what else you’ll uncover. “Did Lila have any friends that you didn’t approve of?”

Mrs. Monroe shakes her head again. “She doesn’t have many friends, but she talks to one girl, Marie, almost every day.”

“Where is Marie right now?”

“At school,” Mrs. Monroe says, sniffling. “I called her mom right away. My mind went to the worst case scenario, you know, I thought Lila would grab Marie and convince her to go with her—”

“Convince?” you question. 

Derek hears you and asks the next question you have on your mind. “Does Lila ‘convince’ Marie to do things she doesn’t want to do often?”

“Sometimes,” Mrs. Monroe admits, beginning to sob again. “Oh, God.”

You share a look with Derek, not liking where this is going, but you don’t know if you’ll get much else out of her right now.

“What things would Lila convince Marie to do?” you ask.

“Just small things, I don’t know,” Mrs. Monroe replies. She’s shutting down. “I don’t know why I said that, I—”

“Okay, okay, it’s okay,” you try to calm her down. “Do you mind if Agent Morgan and I take a look in Lila’s room?”

“How will that help?”

“We might be able to find something that could tell us where Lila might have gone,” Morgan explains. “Sometimes kids leave clues. We might be able to find them.”

Mrs. Monroe nods. “Okay. Can I— Is it alright if I lay down while you do that?”

“Of course,” you smile. “Come on, let’s get you to your room.”

You help her stand and walk back toward her bedroom, getting her inside. She lays down on top of the covers and shuts her eyes.

You close her door and meet Morgan back in the living room, his phone pressed to his ear.

“Y/N’s back, you’re on speaker, Hotch.”

You roll your eyes involuntarily. Hotch couldn’t leave the two of you — mainly you — alone, could he? 

“Alright, I want the two of you to stay there and go through Lila’s room. Tell us anything you find. The school has given Garcia their security camera footage; she’s going through it now. It’s like she’s disappeared into thin air and that is not good.”

“We’ll find her, Hotch,” Morgan says.

Hotch is quiet.

“Mrs. Monroe doesn’t think Richard had anything to do with this. She says Lila doesn’t even know—”

“Morgan told me,” Hotch says. “Call me back when you have something new.” He hangs up and you roll your eyes again.

“I’m gonna keep a tally of how many times you do that,” Morgan teases.

“Be my guest,” you reply. “And keep me updated. I bet it’ll be in the hundreds by the time this case is over.”

Lila’s room is everything you’d expect from a regular pre-teen girl. And reminds you too much of your room when you were her age.

It’s almost like she’s too open. Posters are everywhere. Her favorite movies, actors, and bands. Her bed is made. Her closet is neat. The desk is covered in schoolbooks, yet also clean. 

“Morgan, I know this room.”

He turns around. “What?”

“We can know everything about her from one glance. She’s organized. She loves English, hates science, but is very good at math. She likes alternative music, not boybands,” you point to the posters. “Fantasy movies only. Her closet is too neat. It’s like she’s not even living here.”

“I’m not following.”

“I think she’s been planning her escape for a long time,” you say. “Which makes me think she had help.”

“Okay,” Morgan goes with it. “From who? You heard her mom, she watches everything Lila does.”

My mom did too, you think to yourself as you pull out your phone. You already have Garcia on speed dial, something she suggested for you.

“What can I do for you, my new angel?” 

Morgan chuckles while you answer Garcia. “Can you possibly see the search history after it’s been deleted?”

“Duh,” Garcia says. “Give me the IP address and I can show you all the dirty, dirty secrets on there.”

“Perfect, I’m going now,” you leave Lila’s room, peeking in Mrs. Monroe’s room to be sure she’s still resting. She is. 

You head to the living room where you saw Mrs. Monroe’s computer. Thankfully, after wiggling the mouse, it comes right up. No password or anything.

“Okay, she must really watch what Lila does,” you mumble. As in, Mrs. Monroe must stand over her daughter’s shoulder before even letting her turn the computer on. “How do I…?”

Garcia laughs and tells you what to click to pull up the information she needs. You recite it to her and she quickly works her magic.

“Oh, no.”

“Garcia,” you reply warily. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Morgan hears you and comes into the living room. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” you glance at him. “Garcia, what is it?”

“I’m going to need a minute to go through everything but…”

“Garcia, spit it out,” you put her on speaker, lowering the volume so only you and Morgan can hear her. “Garcia?”

“I don’t know for sure, but at first glance, this looks…it looks like she wanted to go with this person.”

“Shit,” you mutter. “Okay. We’ll call Hotch, you keep digging.”

“Aye, aye.”

You turn the computer off and pocket your phone. “We need to go back to the precinct. I don’t want to risk her overhearing.”

“Okay. Good call.”

“I’m gonna let her know we’re leaving,” you say. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

You wake Mrs. Monroe briefly to let her know you and Agent Morgan are leaving. You assure her that you’re going to bring Lila home, but that you’re needed at the precinct right now, and don’t want to disturb her rest. You hand her your card, telling her the number is the same, even though it doesn’t have BAU yet on it. 

Morgan is leaning against the car when you emerge outside, sick to your stomach.

“You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “Just hate lying to mothers.”

+++

You and Morgan decide to wait until you’re at the precinct to tell everyone what Garcia found. Better to break this news quietly in person than on the phone.

Hotch is speaking to a deputy when you walk in, but you flag him down with a nod, hoping he won’t take it personally. You’re too on edge right now to bother being irritated with him.

Once everyone is in the conference room, you shut the door.

“Garcia should be calling any minute,” you begin. “She’s going through Mrs. Monroe’s computer. Mrs. Monroe said she watches everything Lila does, but clearly not close enough, because Lila was on a popular chatting site talking with someone regularly.”

“Right she was,” Garcia joins in, having been listening on the nearby computer. Her smile is sad. “And it does not look good. I’m still digging, but a Rich34 was in constant contact with her. I’m talking every single night for hours. Mostly from 1am to 4am, while I’m assuming her mother was sleeping.”

“What do the chats say, Garcia?” Emily asks.

“Nothing more than small talk right now, but I’m digging. It’ll take a while though, sir, I’m afraid they’ve been talking for months. Almost a year, I think.”

“Dammit,” you mutter. “I was afraid of that.”

Morgan sends you a sympathetic look.

“Garcia, see if you can track Rich’s identity in any way possible. It could be her father,” Hotch says.

“Or someone posing as her father,” you suggest, earning a glare from Hotch.

“Hey Garcia, send over all the chats, I can help you look through them,” Spencer offers.

“Alright kiddo, PG out.” The line clicks.

“Reid, look for anything relating to Richard Monroe’s history, or maybe Lila’s mother. Lila and her mother haven’t been getting along, and Rich might’ve used that to get Lila away,” Hotch instructs. 

Reid nods, already leaning over to grab the chat messages off the fax machine. Garcia knows him so well; she sent over hardcopies instead of electronic.

“Do we think it’s Richard Monroe in the chat room?” Emily asks.

“I’m not convinced,” Rossi says with a small shake of his head.

“I don’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “The username is too obvious.”

“He could be taunting us by using an obvious screen name,” Hotch counters. “He’s evaded us for this long. Why would he bother hiding now?”

“Yes, but I don’t think Richard Monroe is behind this,” you argue. “Murder in cold blood is his thing. So why wouldn’t he just go grab her from the house? Why is he playing the long game like this? Why form this emotional connection if he’s just going to kill her?”

“Because he’s a murderer with no regard for anyone’s emotions other than his own,” Hotch fires back. “And because he likely holds a grudge against his ex-wife for divorcing him and taking Lila away.”

Now all eyes of the team are on the two of you, going back and forth like a tennis match.

“He murders women his own age. Lila is barely thirteen. If he wanted her so badly, he could have easily grabbed her by now and killed her. Why wait almost a year?”

“Her mother is watching her closely, and he—”

“Oh now you agree that her mother is overbearing.”

“Yes, because you met with her and confirmed it with actual evidence,” Hotch snaps. He pauses, staring at you. “We cannot rule out Richard Monroe.”

“We’ll be wasting our time if we don’t.”

“Why are you so insistent?”

“Call it a gut feeling.”

“You haven’t been doing this job long enough to have a trustworthy gut feeling,” Hotch says coldly. “Now, if you want to continue arguing, I suggest you do so with the wall. Otherwise, we have a young girl to find and her father is a priority suspect. Am I clear?”

“As river water,” you mutter. “Excuse me.” You push past your new boss, hating that he’s already gotten so deep under your skin. Again.

[graciedollie]

Hiya, I just read your Grayson X reader head cannons and I miss her so much. Could you please write something where she comes home stress after a long day and snaps it reader but then makes it up to her?

Heavy Moments

Pair: Grayson x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was a pretty quiet day for you as you didn’t have work today, but you couldn’t say the same for your wife. You greeted her with your usual kiss-hug greeting as always, but it felt off as you could feel her seething. Though once a steaming kettle is filled too much, it all spills—always at the wrong time, unfortunately.

Warnings: Nothing too drastic or whatever, Grayson is just upset from work and yells at you, but she makes up for it at the end <3

A/N: I miss her too anon :( and i hope you enjoy this!! (lowkey might be rushed🙏🏾)

The sky was draped with a orange-purple hue brush as the sun soon started to turn in for the night, drifting off to let the graceful moon rise in the sky. It was a cold night that night which prompted you to start a nice fireplace—adding more coziness and warmth to your lovely home you shared with your beloved wife.

You couldn’t help, but worry as it became later as the minute ticked by—leaving your mind in race with only the worst scenarios playing out in your little head. Her being an enforcer did take a bit much on her, having to constantly deal with arrests and other dangerous things.

Of course you trusted that she would always return home safely, but sometimes you had your doubts and that sucked—bad. Being with Grayson for a good while has been such an amazing experience, though you’ve had your little bumps in the road here and there. You both loved each other dearly and wouldn’t trade for the world.

You started to move around the house to find things to preoccupy your wandering mind—sweeping, wiping the kitchen counter, rearranging decorations and etc. It was working, but not so much as you were still having your nerves frazzled. They were only getting worse until you finally heard the front door creak open—presenting a tired, upset Grayson open the front door.

A smile immediately made its way to your lips, swiftly moving over to her as you have her the usual greet—tight hug, kiss, and more kisses. You did just that, but you could feel her tense in your grasp a little, which made you pull away as you caressed her cheek, “Rough day I take it?”

“Can’t you tell?”

Ok. A bit rude there. You furrowed your brows tightly at her snarky remark, but brushed it off as she was just stressed and it just slipped out. “Clearly I can. Do you wanna talk about it-“

“No. I don’t, ok? If I wanted to talk, I would have—just…just let me be.” Her voice was raspy and stern, making it clear that she was getting even more annoyed at you—which she didn’t really show much. You stared at her with a expression of shock and a bit hurt, to be honest.

You were used to her being a bit patient and not like thai, but I mean she did just have to handle the most stressful case AND deal with some backlash about ‘not doing her job correctly’. It was frustrating and it pissed her off—greatly, rightfully so.

But that didn’t make it any better when she snapped at you.

“I was just asking…” You trailed off as you swallowed back the tightening lump in your throat before returning her own energy. “You don’t have to be rude about it, Gray. Just because you’re upset doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me-“

“Jesus Christ—can you just leave me alone for 5 minutes! That’s all I want of you right now, but you can’t even give me that!”

Ok. Ouch. That hurt. She never really raised her voice at you and if she felt that she was, she would step away to take a couple deep breath, but obviously that wasn’t enough today.. You felt the words die off on your tongue, tasting the bitter of hurt taunting your tongue. I mean, yeah, she had her days, but it was rare for her to yell.

“Alright.”

Was all you said before you clenched your first and stormed your way down the hall to the bedroom, shutting the door behind you before taking a seat on the edge of the bed—trying to grasp the fact that she actually had snapped at you, yelled at you in that fact. You sat at the bed, staring at your hands as you twitched your lips in a scowl—feeling your nerves fry gradually.

Grayson watched as you stormed away before she looked away with a heavy sigh, rubbing her temples tenderly as she slowly calmed herself down gradually—trying to get herself together before she went back to check on you as she didn’t want to just go after you right away.

You both needed a moment to cool off.

A couple minutes had passed as you still sat at the foot of the bed, fumbling with your nails as you were in pretty deep thought. You tried to calm your own nerves down and not think too much of it. She didn’t mean to yell, right? It was an accident. You didn’t mean to push her, but you really didn’t. All you wanted to do was to make sure she knew you was worried and was there for her—though it seemed it was a bit too much.

Especially after a long day, but even so..

Your ears perked up as you heard the bedroom door slowly creak open, revealing a guilty Grayson standing at the door—grasping the doorknob tightly before she slowly made her way in and sat down beside you. She watched how you tensed a bit, but there was a hint of softness in your gaze as your eyes met hers befor averting away.

It was a tense, thick silence in the air—thick enough to cut with a knife. You both wanted to speak, but I mean, you were both a bit surprised that she yelled at you. Even she was surprised at herself since it was rare she ever yelled at you. You would glance at her every now and then, opening your mouth to speak—though it was only silence until she finally spoke.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, love. You only wanted to see if I was ok and I know you care a lot, but sometimes I just need a little time alone to myself, hm?” Her voice had that usual raspy, husky tone to it along with a edge of gentleness and care—as if she was practically softening up.

Your eyes flickered over at her with a glint in your eyes, soaking in the warmth of her words. You stayed silent for a moment before letting out a sigh, settling your head against her shoulder, “I’m sorry too…I should’ve let you have your space too, honey. I just wanted to make sure you were ok, I didn’t mean to, ya know, overwhelm you? But you also didn’t have to yell at me either..”

She nodded in understanding, wrapping an arm around you to bring you closer to her before she placed a loving kiss to your head—a gesture you’ve always been fond of since you’ve been together. You were happy you both apologized and talked it out as other couples would just hold a grudge and just go on about it with silly tactics, but not you two—especially since Grayson couldn’t bare the fact of going to sleep with you and you were upset at her.

How could she do such a thing?

“Oh, I know, love…I know and I’m sorry, but at least we’ve talked, hm? Communicate. We won’t have this little…run-in anymore, no?” She whispered softly, gazing at you with a loving glance as she brushed her thumb over the skin of your cheek—eliciting you to lean into the warm, welcoming touch.

“No…we won’t..”

“Good..”

She pulled away to only pull you into a warm, tender hug as she held you close—engulfing the scent of your perfume as you snuggled up to her. The night went on yo be a nice, relaxing night for the both of you. Relaxing in a warm bath. Talking about whatever came to mind. And just being two lovebirds in love <3

It wasn’t until the beautiful morning came, you had rose from your sleep, of course you knew that Grayson was already up and out for her usual duties—as always. You looked around as you grunted while shuffling out the bed and throwing your robe on to head in the kitchen. And that’s when you saw it…

It was a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers, wrapped in a lovely, vintage newspaper that contrasted the delicate flowers. Along with that, the wrapped boxes and bag sat along side it—wrapped with your favorite color. The thought of her doing this made you fall even in more in love with her—God she was going to be the death of you.

It was also a little note on the side of the box, picking it up to read it as your eyes scanned over the words, “I hope you’re still not mad at me, Love. But just in case..”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the small note, placing a kiss to it before you sat it down and started to sort through the gifts she graced you with.

You could never stay mad at her <3

Taglist!!

@sillygirl-lol

hope you enjoyed dolliessss (so so sooooo sorry this took so long to post 💔)!!!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Part two of this fucking thing

‘Say no.’ The last words that Rio uttered echoed within your mind, only getting louder when you opened the door, only to be greeted by Agatha and some random teenager that she must’ve forced along with her.

‘Hello dearie!’ Agatha said cheerily but deep down you knew it was forced as everything within you was telling you to trust the beautiful woman from the night before, to trust her and that you’ll be safe from whatever that may lie ahead of you from here on out. You took offence to needing to be protected but whatever that woman wanted you to say no to was more dangerous than you could ever hope to imagine.

‘Say no!’ Rio’s voice echos louder this time, almost as though she was standing next to you as a weirdly demented guardian angel.

‘Hello Agatha, who’s this.’ You gestured to the tall teen next to her but she waved her hand before he could open his mouth to speak, instead resting her hand on your shoulder, welcoming herself and her estranged companion into your house and home without invitation.

‘No one of importance, yet at least.’ She tells you with a chuckle and you couldn’t help but look back at the kid who was staring at you starstruck, looking away only when he noticed that you were looking back at him. Did you know him from anywhere? No, you didn’t. You couldn’t remember much after Wanda’s hex nor even beyond that, but all you knew was that you babysitter her twins on serval occasions and that was all you were made to do, nothing more nothing less.

Yet if Rio was saying about you in her outburst was true, there maybe more to yourself then you originally thought, and seeing her so distraught that you thought of yourself as just a regular nobody only made you even more curious as to who it was that you were to her, but the problem was that you didn’t have any known ways of reaching her.

‘I got broken into last night.’ You blurted.

‘I’m sorry to hear that dearie-‘ Agatha began but you continued. ‘She said somethings that I thought were the ramblings of a madwoman,’ you looked straight at Agatha, who knew exactly who you were talking about and took her hand of your shoulder as though you burnt her and looked about the room as though Rio was going to appear once more. ‘She told me to say no.’ You finished.

‘Who?’ Teen asked. He couldn’t read your thoughts, they were…empty…quiet just like they were in the hex. It was a peace he’d never known but there was something’s that didn’t add up with your character.

You shrug. ‘A woman with dark hair, wielding a dagger and she had magic. I must’ve touched a nerve when I told her that I was nothing special.’

Agatha and teen looked at each other before looking at you. They knew something you didn’t but you didn’t have to wait long to get the answers you wanted. ‘Strange. I was attacked by the same woman.’ Agatha began. ‘She told me to leave you out of this, out of my plans and my…influence.’ She tells you as she shows you the injury near her collar bone. ‘Still overprotective of her little flower it seems.’ She adds under her breath.

‘What are you talking about, stop speaking in riddles about me and talk straight!’ You exclaimed.

‘If you want straight answers, ask a straight person,’ Agatha replied but you didn’t look amused and once again the smile on her lips dropped as she groaned. ‘I don’t have time for your amnesia story line! Will you join me on the witches road and regain your memories or not.’ She finally says what she’s been meaning to say the entire time.

Agatha knew Rio would be pissed if she saw you on the road, might even kill her in that case but she needed you on this road, you’ve been powerless and pathetic for far too long when she knows who you truly are! She wanted that version of you back and knows that deep down you are equally as desperate to get everything that was taken from you back, by force or whatever means necessary.

‘What do you say?’ Teen then asks, curious to your response himself as from what he could gather, you were quite the important figure in both Agatha and Rio’s lives once upon a time; especially so if they’re this desperate to get you to wake up.

SAY NO!

‘Yes. I’ll join.’

[bi4demibuddie]

The thing is that i'm not even mad that Bobby is dead. I'm mad that he is dead because apparently Tim Minear got it in his head that he wanted to kill an important character. He was going to kill Ravi but then i guess he thought "go big or go home" and changed it to Bobby. So this was a last minute decision as apparently everything he does is.

I'm pissed of that Bobby dies in a two parter plotline that makes absolutely ZERO fucking sense if you think about it for more than 5 minutes. Still asking myself how the fuck Hen is not dead, seeing that the virus was airbone (which btw that virus doesn't work like that but...well) and Bobby performed surgery on her. Her blood was exposed, she should have been infected and also she should have been the first to die since she was suffering from a hemothorax (she would have bled out really fast). So how is she alive?

The answer is because Tim Minear wills it, i guess. So Hen miraculously doesn't get infected but then Bobby gets infected because of faulty equipment and dies. A character that's finally accepting life and bulding his dream house with his wife. What a way to kill of a main but you did it. Yaaaaaaay... And his death got leaked weeks in advance so it's not even a shock anyway.

It's not that i can't see how Bobby dying could end up in really good storylines for the rest of the characters. It's just that the way it's been handled is just not it, so i'm not excited about anything surrounding his death.

All of this IF he is dead. Because he very well could not be dead. But even if that is the case, then what. I'm still gonna be pissed about how all this is going down. Bobby being alive is not going to remedy that, this was the last straw for me when it comes to Tim. It's been questionable decision after questionable decision and i do not have any more trust in me to give him.

It's the way he keeps sending character driven plotlines to the back to focus on flashy two parter episodes because yayyyy drama and explosions. Fuck off with that. I fell in love with this show because of the character interactions and the emergencies woven into them, not the showy action.

And I'm over all pissed off because i love this show and this whole mess is going to badly affect it, no matter what.

[thatpinkbetch]

I don't give a fuck if Valentine's Day is over.

I wrote this after going back to look at this beautiful piece by herbarimoon one too many times :)

AU where cupids are angels that are given human assignments to help them fall in love, and Midoriya's first case is Bakugou Katsuki.

As if finding someone for this difficult human to fall in love with wasn't hard enough, it just had to be the one Midoriya had a soft spot for. As a fledgling angel, he loved to watch humans from above the clouds, but his favorite of all was the bratty blonde man that secretly feeds his scraps to kittens in alleyways and strives to be the best at everything he does.

Midoriya wants to find the perfect partner for this man. He searches high and low, until he's found him! Someone that could love his beloved human enough, and someone his human could love in return. And yet, when push comes to shove, and it's time to fire, he messes up the shot and the arrow gets lodged into Bakugou's heart. For it to work, the arrow has to shoot through his chest. What's even worse is, with this magic love arrow stuck in his heart, Bakugou can now see Midoriya, and the other cupids. And he's fucking pissed.

"Are you kidding me? You had one fucking job and you can't even do that right? You stupid fucking Deku!"

Midoriya promises that he will fix this. He looks for the man that he planned to be Bakugou's partner, but he can't find him anymore! Where did he go?

Meanwhile, Bakugou's upset as all hell. What the fuck is this? Is this fucking real? No way in hell is he going to be set up to fall in love. If he's going to fall in love, it will be because he chooses the fucker. Midoriya has to drag him kicking and screaming to find his future partner. People stare after him likes he's crazy, since they can't see the angel holding his wrist and pulling him along.

Try as he might, Midoriya can't find the perfect match again. Well... They'd have to keep trying. What a mess he's gotten himself into.

Bakugou doesn't fucking know what to do. This fuck ass angel keeps following him around, into his home, to his work, hovering over him worried and shit. And on top of that, he's got this arrow sticking out of him. He won't admit it to the idiot, but it hurts. It hurts to put his clothes on, even though the arrow phases through them. It hurts when he wasn't even thinking about it, a dull throbbing in his chest. Because obviously it would hurt to have something stuck in your heart. But fuck that bastard. He doesn't have to know shit about him. Like hell he'd fall in love with whatever random fucker Deku assigned to him. He can deal. He can figure his own way out of this. Apparently they can't just pull out the arrow, otherwise his heart might be damaged beyond repair - meaning he won't be able to fall in love afterwards. He doesn't actually believe that; not until he tries to tug on it at night when the angel is sleeping on his couch and it hurts like a motherfucker.

Fine, okay, this is going to take some time. He just doesn't really get why... There's this nagging sensation in the back of his mind... Why there is something familiar about this angel guy...

Shenanigans ensue. Obviously. Bakugou looks kind of strange half the time, sometimes talking to someone that isn't there. But it's only when he goes to his parents house for something or other, and he sees a picture of himself from childhood. There, beside him, his old friend who drowned in the river when they were kids. It looks just like this fucker that's been harassing him and sleeping on his couch and consuming all of his sweets because even though he doesn't need them, he still has a sweet tooth (and, well, Bakugou could speak up more if it really pissed him off...)

That night he shows Midoriya the picture, and Midoriya is stunned. That is him. Truly. But...he doesn't remember that. It's kind of freaky. Bakugou can tell that it freaks him out, too. And that's when he starts to suspect.

When Midoriya sleeps that night, he dreams of being a child, of playing with his best friend. His best friend, who is the coolest in the whole world, the strongest, the bravest. Going out to play one day when it's raining and his friend... Ka... Ka... His friend stayed home that day. And he slips on the log they used to cross all the time and plummets to the waters below... It's dark, and so, so cold...

He wakes up with a gasp and a splitting headache. Midoriya tries to recall his earliest memory, but the further back he goes, the foggier it gets. No one can really remember their first day alive, their beginning, can they? But he remembers the heavens, a life that feels so long ago, though its only been weeks. He was a bit of an outcast up there, longing constantly for the humans, for one in particular...

That morning, Bakugou studies him silently, but doesn't speak, which is fine, because Midoriya doesn't feel like speaking, either.

They're in that same park, the one where Bakugou first saw him. They're sitting on the bench together, strangely silent. Normally they bicker; Midoriya points out people and asks Bakugou about them, if he's interested, and Bakugou proceeds to tell him all the ways he hates them. Why Bakugou always agreed to sit with him and watch, he could not explain. But today, Midoriya is quietly focused.

Suddenly, he shoots up and grabs Bakugou's hand, pulling him along. There! There he is! The man Midoriya paired him with originally. And Bakugou finally gets a good look at him. Crap! He's his type... He looks at Midorya's excited face, seeing the cupid looking only at their target, and Bakugou frowns. Yeah, okay, maybe he kind of gets Bakugou after all.

"Keep your eyes on him!"

Bakugou digs his heels into the ground.

"The hell is that? You think I could fall for somebody like that? Look at his shitty hair! He looks like an idiot!"

Midoriya stares at him, the excitement slowly draining from his face until he is crestfallen. Oh well. Looks like stupid Deku is going to have to take the time to find him someone else. Shame.

Before either of them can say anymore, Bakugou's face crumples in pain, and he falls to his knees. He hadn't wanted to tell the angel about his pain, but it was getting worse as time went on. He was pretty damn good at ignoring it, but it floods his chest right then, along with a bunch of regrets he'd been holding back for longer than he could remember.

Midoriya follows him down, panicking now. How could he have not noticed! Of course Bakugou would have been in pain this whole time. Humans can't handle long exposure to magic like that, and this arrow had been pumping him full of it for a month now! How he had lasted this long was a miracle already, but he'd never complained, so Midoriya never realized...

"Kacchan, Kacchan please-" where had that name come from? "Please, tell me, just tell me someone-" he looks around at the people in the park, some looking curiously at the man crouching, but Bakugou grips his wrist and holds his gaze.

"Dumbass..." He croaks out. "I don't want anybody else." Then he falls onto his back and the crowd around them gasps. There's screams and calls for an ambulance, but Midoriya is too shocked to notice the commotion. Anybody else...

There are tears in his eyes that he doesn't even feel as he straddles Bakugou. Nobody can see him, or the arrow sticking out of the fallen man's chest. So they can't see it when Midoriya, with his determined gaze, places his hands around the end of the shaft, looking down into Bakugou's eyes, so open and revealing, and he pushes down.

The sound Bakugou makes hurts his own heart, but he doesn't stop. He pushes the arrow through him, slowly, steadily, watching Bakugou gasp and cry, and then reach up and hold his hands and guide them in while he looks directly at Midoriya.

It was his own fault this was painful. If he'd just shot straight, it would've gone clean through. But perhaps there was a part of him that hadn't wanted that shot to work out. A part that had betrayed his trained accuracy. As he holds Bakugou's pained gaze, he takes full responsibility for it, pushing the arrow through and soaking in every wince and tear. He embraces his own selfishness; he wants this heart for his own.

When it's through, they both gasp. The arrow disappeared. And Bakugou... Well, aside from the deep, heaving breaths, and the tears he's blinking away, he looks just like normal. When he sits up, that's when Midoriya notices the crowd around them. And for some reason, they seem to be staring at him.

"Idiot." He looks at the sound of Bakugou's voice and sees him smirking at him. "They can see you now, Izuku."

Midoriya never told him that name. Midoriya hadn't known it himself. But the second Bakugou gives it to him, he feels it fit like a glove. The people around them murmur, saying, "He saved him, thank god..."

Midoriya doesn't know what they saw, or what they think they saw, but he knows what they're about to see. He dives forward and kisses the man beneath him still, and Bakugou holds the back of his neck as he lets him.

He never regains the memories from his childhood - those were swept away by the river. But his heart could never forget. He always wondered if that arrow ever actually worked - nothing feels any different between them. Kacchan loves him just the same.

Though, there is one thing that changes. He's human now (again) his powers stripped from him for falling in love with an assignment. Maybe it's for the best. He was never really good at this cupid business anyway.

[raya-hunter01]

Not My Sister's Keeper Pt. 5

Roman X OC(Kara)

Jey Uso X OC (Tia)

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; sex, fluff, couple arguing, Jealousy, infidelity, pregnancy

Roamn’s wife recently left medical school and returned home to save her marriage. Upon her return, she finds out things are not what they seem. Her sister is pregnant by her best friend Jey Uso, who is also Roman’s cousin, and her husband is acting suspicious.

What happens when a conversation overhead on a baby monitor blows her world apart?

A Month Later

Roman’s House

“Mama, you saw it for yourself, she slept with Jey,” I said trying to escape her wrath.

“Son, your actions caused that chain reaction, and Tia living here isn’t helping your case to get your wife back either,” my mom said washing the dishes as I fed Logan her bottle.

“Mama, Logan needs her.”

“Logan needs her like I need an enema. She doesn’t even want that baby; she barely interacts with her. How could you let this happen?” she asked as I wished the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

“Mama, I stopped it, I knew I was wrong.”

“But, it took six times sleepin’ with this girl for you to realize that, and then you lied to me. Roman, I didn’t raise you this way,” my mother scolded as I sighed taking my tongue lashing from her.

“Mama, I was gon’ tell you, I just didn’t know how,” I said as she sat down beside me.

“You start by telling the truth….I said some mean things to Kara going off how you were acting. Like when was you going to tell me that you had a child with Kara’s sister.”

“I…I was going to fix it all. I wanted her to be Logan’s stepmom.. I was going to make it right, then I saw red. She let him have her mama, my wife did that,” I said still in shock that Kara took it that far and slept with Jey.

“Roman, you can’t take a child away from her mother and give it to another woman, thinking it will fix the issue. Kara is hurt…Her husband and sister betrayed her, that’s a hard pill to swallow.”

“But look at what she did, like really out of all people it just had to be him. Why would she do that?” I asked, truly wanting to know why.

“To make sure she hurt you deeper than you hurt her, and it worked. Tore you up so bad you ordered a new bus. Got you walkin’ round here like you on life support,” my mom said, my jaw twitched just thinking about them together.

“Then you got that girl sleepin’ here, trying to get her hooks in you.”

“Mama, I ain’t-”

“I don’t care, if you want to try to work on your marriage, Tia gotta go. Her being here is showing Kara you didn’t take your marriage seriously and its disrespectful.”

“Mama, she has nobody-”

“That’s a lie, she got a mama, and a daddy. Tia’s mother was going stay with her for a month to help out with the baby. Rebecca told me, but Tia turned her down. I’m telling you Roman, get her outta here before something bad happens, son”.

“Mama, I tried to talk to Kara, but she’s been ignoring me. She just sits in mediation staring a hole through me,”  I said trying to get her to understand.

“Try harder, tell her what happened so there is no more secrets and hopefully ya’ll can get back on track. Whatever the outcome you owe her, and you know you do.”

“Mama, her sleepin’ wit Jey hurt me bad.” I said pleading my case as she threw her hands up in the air as I frowned at her. Kinda pissed she ain’t more on my side…I am her son.

“Roman, you’re not thinking about what you’ve done to Kara. I swear you are just like your daddy, can dish it out but can’t take it. Go to mediation today and be truthful with her,” she said leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Over the last month Tia being here has been hell. She won’t help with Logan, it’s almost like it’s no bond between them and that is insane to me.

 It’s been all me and mama, so I know I’m in this alone.

Hearing her come downstairs I rolled my eyes. “Morning my logan,” she said kissing logan on the forehead as Logan begins to fuss.

“Roman, I’m glad you’re still here. I thought you had left for the show, she said extra giddy. She really was trying to push something that was never going to be. My mom was right, she needed to go.

“Uh, no I got to go sign for the new bus and I got mediation today,” I said as Tia shot me a look.

“Oh, you’re still trying to beat that dead horse,” she said smartly rolling her eyes as I stood up walking towards her. “Um, what are you doing Roman?” Tia asked worriedly as I placed Logan in her arms. “Letting you bond with your daughter, because she has two parents and not just one,” I said leaving a fussing Logan with her.

“Roman, take her to your mom!” Tia cried as I kept walking, ignoring her.... I had bigger fish to fry.

“Make sure you’re gone by 1:00, my mama is taking Logan to your parents and you to get groceries for your house. I need you gone; Kara is stopping by to get some of her things!” I yelled as I heard her mutter under her breath.

Going upstairs I ran into mom. “Why didn’t you bring the baby to me? I ain’t gon’ listen to Logan cry all day because you left her with the devil,” she said as I snickered.

“Mama, she’s gotta try to bond with her,” I said giving her a hug before I went to get dressed.

----------

Bently Law and Associates

Kara’s POV

“I know you, nor her better be there when I get there,” I whispered as Roman nodded.

“My mom is dropping Logan off at your parents. Ma, can vouch for me,” he said pointing at my mother as she nodded.

“Yeah, Roman called last night and asked us to keep Logan," my mom said as I sighed, not really caring.

“Then my mom is going to take Tia grocery shopping for some things for her house because she’s about to be going home. After this, I gotta go finalize the deal on my new bus.”

“I don’t care where Tia goes, as long as she ain’t there when I’m there,” I said irritated.

 All he had to say was she wasn’t going to be there; I didn’t need an update on his baby mama drama.

 “Nobody will be there sweetheart, I promise,” Roman said as I cringed at his use of his pet name for me.

“Please…Don’t do that,” I said as he threw his hands up and sat back in his seat.

Sitting there in silence, my brain finally caught up to the little information he revealed. He got a new bus…. Smirking I felt a sense of satisfaction knowing he couldn’t shake the image of Jey and I on the other bus.

You could feel the tension as we went to sat with our lawyers. Ten years of marriage, was coming down to being in this office on the 15th floor, sitting around this huge table negotiating assets.

Deven, a mutual friend of ours, who’s also a judge, sat at the end of the table serving as a mediator for us.

“Alright, let’s get started. I wished we were here under different circumstances, but I digress. Mr. Towns what is your client Mrs. Reigns asking for?” Deven asked as I leaned back in my chair trying to relax.

“My client doesn’t want any of her husband’s assets, she only wants a clean break,” my lawyer said as I saw Roman twitching his seat.

“Kara is you crazy? After all he’s done..The devil is a damn lie, she want it all!” my mom said as I tuned her out.

I was too focused on Roman, who had leaned over and was whispering something in his lawyer’s ear.

“Well, my client would like to try therapy before we go this route. It will look good to a judge that you guys tried and could push this along quicker in the end.”

“I want this over,” I said as Roman cleared his throat.

“I want to try to save our marriage,” Roman said as I shook my head.

“I would rather swallow nails and dance barefoot across hot coals,” I said as my mother slapped me on the arm.

“Girl, hush this about getting what you deserve. He owes this to you,” She hissed as I sighed, sitting back and allowing Roman’s lawyer to continue.

“My client wants to also pay for his wife’s medical school expenses.”

“What!” I exclaimed sitting up in my seat looking at my mom who shushed me. “Here him out baby,” she whispered as I took a deep breath.

Bitch, now you want me to go back to medical school, now you want to support my dreams.

 “Like I was saying, we’ve come up with a total of 500,000 that she needs to complete her last two years of education.”

“That’s way too much?” I interrupted as his lawyer looked down at his sheet of paper reading his notes as Roman cracked a small smile.

“Always worried about me spending too much money instead of just letting me take care of you,” he muttered as I shot him a look.

“Kara, look at me.” Deven said as I turned, giving him my full attention feeling Roman’s eyes still on me.

“I talked to Roman and the price he came up with will help you with things you need such as your books, a Condo to stay in, and any necessities you may need.”

“Deven, it’s too much,” I whispered, totally thrown for a loop everything.

“Roman wants you to focus on school and not have to worry about taking up a job. He knew you were going to come in here and wouldn’t want anything from him, but he knows you deserve everything.” Deven said as fought back tears.

“Let him at least do that much, and hear him out,” Deven pleaded as I turned back to Roman and his lawyer, wanting to hear the rest of his offer as Roman sighed in relief before turning to his lawyer.

“Let her know what else we talked about Ryan?” Roman whispered pointing to his notepad as his lawyer looked over, shocked at whatever Roman had written on his paper.

“Are you sure Mr. Reigns? I said we could renegotiate that and bring it to the table later,” His lawyer whispered as Roman shook his head.

“She deserves it and I want her to have it regardless of if we work this out or not,” he whispered as I frowned at him.

“Uh, my client would also like to add an additional three million per year for Mrs. Reigns to do with as she pleases and upon graduation Mr. Reigns will donate ten million towards his wife’s own practice,” his lawyer said as I tried to process what he was offering…

“Jesus, Roman,” my mother said as Roman’s eyes never left mine.

Why was he doing this? Why now?

“My client has also cleared the balance owed from when his wife left school and violated the terms of her scholarship. All her debts are clear, so she can re-apply for school anytime she likes.”

“Why are you doing this? Like why now?” I whispered as Roman leaned his elbows on the table.

“Because I love you, and I miss my wife. I’m trying to make it right, Kara,” Roman said as I felt the room closing in on me.

“Now you want to support my dreams…. Now you want to do right! Now you want to make it right!” I shouted, the look of remorse on his face making it hard for me to breathe.

“I think emotions are high and we should take a break and resume next week. That will give Kara some time to think about things,” Deven said as my mother rolled her eyes.

“Ain’t shit to think about….She gon’ take everything he offering…He owes her that much, all she sacrifices she made for him,” my mom said as I wiped my tears.

“Kara, please take it…Even if you don’t take me back. I want you to have this regardless.” Roman pleaded.

“I need some air,” I whispered storming out of the room.

“Kara! Come back!” I heard him yell hot on my heels.

Picking up pace, I slip inside the elevator, pushing the buttons fast as I could as Roman sprinted towards me, sliding in the elevator  just before the doors closed.

“Kara-”

“Why are you doing this? You can't buy me, I'm not for sale."

“Baby, just listen,” he pleaded pulling me in his arms, cradling the back of my neck, holding me close as I finally exploded.

“NO! NO! Let me go!” I screamed, managing to turn my body away from him, but I couldn't escape his powerful embrace.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” Roman pleaded refusing to let me go, wrapping one arm around my waist and the other around my chest.

 His grip never loosened as he lowered us to the floor determined to not let me go as I fought against him.

“Damn you!...... You broke us! You broke ME!..... I LET YOU BREAK ME!!” I cried as he held me tighter.

“Baby, please forgive me,” he whispered, his silent tears falling on my cheek as he buried his head against mine.

He had officially broken me…And now that he had me broken, he wanted to give me all I ever had asked for from him.

“Roman, just let me go,” I whimpered as he released me, allowing me to slide to the opposite side of the elevator, creating some much-needed distance.

“I’m sorry, I just love so much,” he whispered as the elevator jolted to a stop as I looked around in confusion as the lights flickered, then dimed……

No…Not now…We can’t be stuck in here.

“This isn’t happening,” I muttered as Roman rushed to pick up the emergency phone.

“Hello! Hello……Yes, my wife and I are stuck?” he said as I tried to regulate my breathing.

“An hour!” He said I hit the wall in frustration. This day just keeps on getting worse.

An hour in here….. With Roman..Shoot me now.

“Thank you, thirty minutes sounds better than an hour,” he said hanging up and sitting down under the phone as I took off my jacket trying to get comfortable.

“Kara, I-”

“Please don’t talk to me, you’re taking up all the air,” I said checking my phone frowning at the fact I had no service.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I swear I was going to tell you that night. If you could Just let me explain,” he said as I looked at him.

“Ok, I’ll play along, since you seem like you wanna confess your sins. How did it start?” I asked putting my phone in my pocket, giving him my undivided attention.

Roman seemed shocked at my question, this was not how he wanted the conversation to go.

Roman’s POV

Damn, she didn’t waste any time asking. I knew I had to tell her all of it but I dreaded it.…

“Well, I’m waiting, you wanted to explain,” Kara said as I sighed.

“The first time was on the bus. She had asked for a ride saying her friends had left her. Later that night after you and I talked on the phone, I went to bed. I woke up in the middle of the night and there she was layin’ in bed with me….Naked.”

“Then what?” Kara whispered as I contemplated my next words, but I knew I had to tell the truth.

 “She climbed on top of me, I asked her to leave but it was almost eerie how she looked like you in the moonlight, so I didn’t stop it,” I said as Kara covered her face with her hands, her leg anxiously tapping against the floor.

I hated to tell her, but I knew I had to tell her all of it.

“When we were having sex, I slipped up and called her your name,” I said as Kara’s head jerked in my direction looking at me in disgust and horror, but she didn’t say anything.

“She told me she didn’t mind pretending to be you for me and I called her by your name as we had sex. Like four out of the six times we slept together I did, the other times, no words were exchanged,” I said feeling the bile rise in my throat, for the first time truly realized how sick it all was.

Kara looked at me with a sad smile. “Tia always has to prove a point that she can take away the things that I love, and I guess you were no exception…..God, I think I’m going to be sick,” Kara whispered, as I dropped my head in shame.

“Kara, If I could take it back I would but I can’t. Just please say we can try-”

“Well as a last-minute replacement for me how did she do?” Kara asked interrupting me, as I groaned.

“Don’t do that, you know nobody can ever compare to you,” I said as Kara chuckled, shaking her head.

“Did you even try to use protection?” she whispered as I felt somewhat offended, she would think I would put her life in danger.

The first time we didn’t but every time after that we did. I got tested before me and you even slept together again. I was clean, and I swear it was only that one time unprotected.”

“That’s all it takes is one time Roman, and now you have a child with her.  You still never answered my question…. How was she?” Kara whispered as I felt like I wanted to vomit.

“Kara don’t do this?”

 “No, you already did this when you slept with her and KEPT sleeping with her. So how was she?”

“Like I said, she wasn’t you and since we are on that subject, I guess I could ask you the same about Jey,” I said as the elevator started back up with a soft hum but was moving slowly.

Standing up Kara grabbed her jacket ignoring me, but I blocked her path standing in front of the doors. She wasn’t leaving here until she told me why she picked Jey.

“Move Roman.. I ain't got time for this," Kara whispered trying to avoid looking at me.

“Why Jey, Kara? It could have been anybody, but you chose him. You let him have you, why Kara,” I said unafraid and not ashamed of the tremble in my voice.

I was hurt that she let him have her, that’s all I see every time I pull into our fucking driveway.

“Just tell me,” I whispered making her look at me, her once loving eyes now void of feeling towards me.

I really did break her…I caused this change in her.

Suddenly, I felt like I couldn’t breathe as I remembered something she told me once when we were dating.

"Can you please move?"

“I have to love and trust someone to share my body with them, I don’t just jump into bed with anybody.” I whispered as she seemed shocked that I remembered but recovered quickly continuing to stare a hole through me.

“I guess there’s your answer as to why I chose, him,” she whispered as we stood in silence waiting for the elevator doors to open.

This couldn’t be it….It just couldn’t….We can come back from this…Jey is a non-issue, I’m her husband…

-----

Gulf Shore, AL

Jey’s POV

“Man, gon’ call Kara, and tell her you missed her and want her to come over,” Trin said as I shot her a look.

“I ain’t trying to smother her, I know she has mediation this morning. It takes a lot out of her,” I said as Trin smiled at me.

“That’s an even better reason to call her and let her know you’re thinking about her, Jimmy said as I  found myself blushin’.

I really had been thinking about Kara nonstop since we left a few weeks ago. The facetime calls and texting was and all cool but I wanted to hold her in my arms.

“You never told us what happened when ya’ll went to Roman’s that night either,” Trin said as I put my glasses on acting like I didn’t hear her.

“Oh, it’s like that huh…Fine, I’ll get the info from Kara,” she said as I chuckled.

“I think they fucked,” Jimmy said as I punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t talk about Kara like that,” I said as he gave Trin a knowing look as she smiled.

“Yep…They had sex, and it was good too. She got ya brother even more sprung than before,” Trin said as I pulled out my phone to call Kara, not even bothering to argue because it was true.

I was sprung and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it…

------

Roman’s House

Kara’s POV

I finally calmed down enough to make my way out to the house, and it seems like Roman kept his word...Nobody was here.

 As I got out the car my phone rang, smiling I accepted Jey’s facetime request.

“Where you been all my life,” Jey said as soon as I answered making me blush as I heard Trin and Jimmy awing in the background.

“Well, I always been here, and I’m currently at the house of horrors.” I said as Jey frowned.

“Your where?” Jey asked as I sighed. “I’m at the house picking up the last of my thing I wanted to get and granny’s bracelet.”

“Is he there?” Jey asked as I chuckled. “No, he’s not, he had some business to take care of. We did mediation this morning and it was a mess, but I’ll tell you about it later,” I said as Jey studied my face.

“I don’t like that look, it means when you tell me I’mma wanna beat his ass again,” Jey said as I gave him a small smile.

“What time ya’ll gettin' in today?" I asked as he smiled.

“We should be back in town in about an hour, we makin’ good time, tell the fam, hey,” Jey said turning the camera around to Jimmy and Trin as they laughed.

“Hey fam!” I said happy to see their faces, I really missed them all.

“Hey, Booky! I’mma need you to put this man outta his misery when this is all over with Roman and your ass crazy sister. He’s crazy about you,” Trin said as I blushed.

“Man, stop tellin’ all my business, Kara already knows what time it is,” Jey said as I laughed.

 “I miss you guys and I can’t wait to see ya’ll.”

“You be careful, get what you need, and get out. Dinner on us tonight,” Jimmy said as I smiled.

“I got ya’ll it’s gon’ take ten minutes tops. If I haven’t called, ya’ll back, call me,” I said putting their minds at ease.

“A’ight ten minutes,” Jey said as I smiled hanging up putting my phone in my back pocket.

After that night we never spoke about what happened. Jey was a man of his word; we carried on like our usual selves and for that I was grateful.

Running upstairs, I went into the bedroom and grabbed some of the clothes I wanted to keep, putting them in the box Roman had left on the bed for me.

I felt my anger slowly building as I looked around the room.. Had Tia been in here? Had she slept in our bed?  Roman’s confession on how things went down with Tia really had thrown me for a loop.

“Why couldn’t you say, no?” I muttered as I heard footsteps coming upstairs.

Ugh…

“Roman you said you wouldn’t be here,” I said agitated, opening the door and taking a step back in shock seeing Tia standing there in the sundress I wore the day Roman proposed to me.

“Oh, I didn’t know you would be here Kara. I was just trying to put together a little surprise for-” she started but stopped talking, seeing the look on my face…She realized she had taken it too far.

“You got on my dress!” I hissed as she tried to run but I caught her arm, slanging her in the room, and throwing her up against the wall before climbing on top of her.

“You bitch” I yelled punching her in the face as she screamed in pain.

“Get off! Kara!” Tia screamed as I repeatedly banged her head against the floor.

“I’mma kill you.”

“You ok up there Kara?!” I heard Janice yell as I kicked Tia in the stomach, before running to lock the door.

Nobody was breakin’ this up..She had it coming.

“Everybody always tryin’ to save you….You never face the consequences of your actions,” I hissed as she stumbled to her feet.

Before she could even see it coming, I ran at her, grabbing her by the and hair slamming her face against the wall.

“Kara calm down!" She cried as I backhanded her as she fell against me.

“Calm down my ass, I’m sicka you! Get off me bitch! I screamed, throwing her into the dresser as she tumbled across it hitting the floor hard. Her moans of pain bringing me satisfaction.

“What is going on in there, Kara?!” Janice yelled as I trembled with anger as Tia spit blood outta her mouth, crawling toward the wall trying to pull herself up.

“ Janice, I’mma kill her, that’s what’s going on!” I screamed charging towards Tia, spearing her against the wall as we fell to the floor in a heap.

My phone sliding across the floor in the process

“It ain’t worth it Kara, come on out baby,” Janice pleaded as I fought to catch my breath but I couldn’t reign in my anger. She has taken everything from me.

“I won,” Tia gasped with a smile as I snapped pulling her up by her neck dragging her to the wall mirror in the corner.

“Look! Look at us! Bitch, what have you won! The only reason you even had him in the first place is because you look somewhat look little like me the dark hoe,” I hissed as she tried to pry my hands out of her hair.

“Ain’t nobody tryin to be you! He wanted me because he knows I’m better than you!” Tia screaming as I chuckled letting her go.

“But ain’t you tryin’ to be me, Tia?…..Let’s see….You wearin’ my clothes!...You were fucking my husband and had a baby from him but you ain’t trying to be me.. Bitch, please, just own dat shit,” I scoffed.

“He wanted me Kara…He couldn’t resist me,” Tia smiled as I shook my head. This bitch was loony tunes.

“Oh! He wanted you, huh…Wasn’t he fucking you and calling you by my NAME!  Something you didn’t mind him doing by the way, right? As long as you fucked up my life!” I yelled as she jumped back in shock at my knowledge of what happened during her intimate moments with Roman.

“H- H- He told you?” she stammered as I smirked at her uneasiness.

“Yea, he told me all of it, and who does some sick shit like that? I asked. The tension building as we stared a hole through each other.

“Oh…nothing to say now.. Well, I’ll tell you who does that…A desperate bitch who loves to throw her rank ass pussy at anything that moves!”  I screamed as she tried to swing but missed, the momentum causing us to fall against the mirror, causing it to shatter around us.  

Luckily neither one of us landed on the glass but hit the ground hard.

“Damn it,” I muttered rubbing my head as I heard my phone ringing looking around in a panic, I groaned in frustration as it stopped.

I knew it was Jey calling to check on me.

“Miss an important call,” Tia teased trying to sit up as my phone started ringing again.

“J- Jey,” I whispered trying to crawl to my phone as I felt a Tia jump on my back as we tussled to get to my phone.

“What you mean don’t call the cops! You better get her quick then Roman; they are killing each other in there!” Janice said as she continued to bang on the door.

“Just as I reached the phone, Tia bit my hand and elbowed me in the stomach before grabbing and answering it.

“Jey! Jey, she’s gone crazy! Help me!” Tia cried as I pulled her back down to the ground hitting her with a right hook before slamming her head against the floor again.

“Tia! Where is Kara!” I heard Jey yell as I ripped my phone out of her hands.

“Kara! Kara! What’s gon’ on!” I heard Jey yelling in a panic as I put the phone to my ear.

“Jey….I’mma call you back…I got some shit to handle.” I panted

“Ka-” Jey started but I ended the call before he could finish, seeing Tia trying to run for the door.

“Where you goin’?” I asked, charging toward the door pushing her against it.

“Help! Somebody Help me! Your crazy!” Tia yelled as I turned her around to face me.

“What did you expect after all you’ve done! You’ve made me this way!”

I screamed punching her in the face as she fell in a heap at my feet, leaning down I jacked her up by the hair, tossing her again into the wall

“Bitch you ain’t nobody!” I Screamed gripping her hair as she tried to back away, I began punching her,  on top of her head, only stopping to change course landing a few punches to her face as she screamed trying to cover her face with her hands.

 I got a couple more shots before I felt myself being lifted up in the air. “Let me go! let me go!” I screamed, fighting against whoever had pulled me away.

“Kara, that’s enough baby,” Roman’s voice boomed throughout the room as I stilled in his arms, panting in disbelief at how out of control I was.

“Roman,” I whispered somewhat coming out of my tunnel vision.

“Yes…..It’s me baby, I got you,” he whispered holding me tight as I tried to gather myself as Tia got up of the floor wiping her nose.

“You’re really comforting her! She’s crazy and just attacked the mother of your child for no reason Roman,” Tia moaned, as I winced feeling the pain shoot through my knuckles as I looked down seeing the scrapes and patches of raw skin.

“Nah, I ain’t crazy..You just kept pushin’ your luck, like you always do and nobody was here to save yo’ ass…Let me go Roman!” I hissed as Roman released me, finally taking in Tia’s appearance.

“Why you got on Kara’s engagement dress?” Roman asked, his powerful voice overtaking the room as Tia said nothing.

She was too busy trying to check her face in the only mirror left standing in the room, on top of the dresser.

“Don’t worry, It’s an improvement bitch!” I screamed as Roman sighed gently pulling me to him, trying to check me over.

“Stop, I’m fine,” I said stepping away from him. “You got some cuts, Kara” he said worriedly as I shrugged him off again.

“I said I’m good, but you betta get that bitch outta here before I kill her,” I said pointing at Tia as she smirked, Janice shaking her head in the corner at the scene playing out before her.

“I won…I …ruined…Your …Life and I loved every minute of it…I hate you,” she seethed as I chuckled.

“You hate me….. You hate me!  Bitch, I’ve hated yo’ ass since the womb!” I yelled, knowing it would cut her deep because she would always tell me how she would rub Mama’s stomach and talk to me when Mama was pregnant with me.

“You wanna know why I’ve always made a point to fuck up your life?” She asked I tried to get around Roman.

“Because I wished you had never been born!” She screamed. "Move Roman!" I yelled as he refused, turning to look at Tia

“Shut up, Tia!” Roman shouted as she kept talking.

“It’s true, and she should know.”

“Well, Mama shoulda’ just swallowed when it came to you. Your whole fuckin’ existence has just been you being a living, breathing, pile of disappointment and cum! You gutta slut, I hate you!” I screamed as she seemed hurt by my words.

“Timeout!..... Roman take Kara downstairs for her to calm down…They hittin' below the belt now, ya’ll still sisters,” Janice said as I shrugged Roman off.

“I can go on my own accord. I don’t need him,” I said walking out of the room as Roman’s mom followed me.

“I’ll help you get cleaned up,” she said as I looked at her unsure of what her motive was. I was still pissed by her lil outburst and shots she was throwing a couple of weeks ago.

She betta not start talkin’ out her neck or she can get this work too. I’m tired of the bullshit…And everybody…

Roman’s POV

“I told you not to be here!” I yelled as Tia continued to clean herself up.

“She has to get used to seeing us a family, Roman.”

“Uh, no she doesn’t because that isn’t going to happen. We share Logan together and that’s all. I can’t believe you really came back here after I asked you not too…Just trying to hurt Kara,” I said as she rolled her eyes.

“That wasn’t my in-”

“Tia! You up here wearin’ the dress Kara wore when I proposed to her!…You knew what would happen when she saw you in it."

“She always takes shit so personal,” she said wincing as she touched her jaw.

“It is personal, and you had no right! Look, just get outta my house.” I said just over the day. I feel like the more I try the worse everything gets.

“How am I going to get home?” Tia cried as I walked around for the first time looking at the disaster area, that was once my bedroom with Kara.

“The same way you snuck back here after my mom dropped you off at your house…Hell, walk for all I care and leave Logan at your moms, I’ll pick her up later,” I said leaving no room for argument.

“You can’t just dismiss me like I’m nothing Roman,” she whispered as I turned to look at her.

“My lawyers will be in touch, now get out.”  I said as she sighed limping out of the room.

“This is a fuckin’ mess.”

------

Jey’s POV

“Man, where we at? This ain’t the way!” I yelled as Jimmy sped up.

“We almost there, I took a shortcut,” he said as Trin tried to call Kara back.

“Come on Kara, pick up the phone,” Trin pleaded as I felt myself losing it.

“I just need to get there man,” I sighed as Trin rubbed my shoulder. “Kara can take care of herself,” she said as I sighed.

 “I know that…I just know Kara, she gon’ hurt dat girl.” I said honestly scared about what we were about to walk into.

“Tia been pushin’ and she finally got what she asked for. It’s been coming, and it was no way to avoid it,” Trin said as I took a deep breath.

I was so on edge as we hit the exit to Roman’s house, I probably could have run faster than Jimmy was driving.

Pulling up, we didn’t see the cops or anything but saw Tia coming out with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder.

She avoided our gaze and starting to walk up the road with a slight limp.

“Damn she limpin’ and did you see her face…Man, Kara ate her ass up,” Jimmy said as Trin snickered. “Told you Kara could handle it,” she whispered as I slammed the car door, rushing inside.

As soon as I got to the foyer, I heard Kara’s voice coming from the kitchen.

“Aye, gon’ in there, we’ll look around,” Jimmy said as I went towards the kitchen.

“Roman did tell her not to be here sweetie. I dropped her off and everything,” my aunt said as I hung back giving them space to talk.

 I was just thankful Kara was ok, and I could lay eyes on her.

I watched my aunt clean up Kara’s knuckles as she hissed at the pain. She had a small cut on her lip and a couple scratches on her arms.

“Tell me how you feeling sweetie?  You can’t keep holding this in.” My aunt said as a strangled sob escaped Kara’s lips.

“Do you know how long we tried to have a baby, and that WHORE just gave him our dream without even trying.” Kara cried as my aunt reached over and gave her a hug.

“I know it baby,” my aunt whispered rubbing Kara’s back.

“Wh- What am I supposed to do with that?.…This is all wrong, it’s not fair,” Kara sobbed, my heart breaking for her.

Pulling away, my aunt took Kara’s hands in hers. “I’ll tell you what you do…..Leave him, Kara……Leave this town and allow yourself to heal,” My aunt said as I looked at her in shock.  

She actually told Kara to leave Roman and start her life over.

“How do I do that?” Kara asked as my aunt smiled at her.

“Take it one day at a time,” she whispered as Kara nodded wiping her tears.

“You right, I need to leave…..Cause’ if I don’t leave, somebody gon’ get hurt,” Kara whispered, as I felt a chill run down my spine at the coldness of her voice.

“I know it, baby… I can feel it coming, and I don’t want that,” my aunt said as Kara nodded in agreement as they sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until my aunt cleared her throat.

“So, do you have any places in mind?” she asked as Kara cracked a smile.

“I guess it’s time to give Boston another try,” she whispered with determination as I smiled.

I knew what that meant...She was finally going to put herself first and go back to medical school.

And she didn’t know it yet, well, maybe she did but I’m going to be with her every step of the way.

There was no way I was losing her now…

When the divorce is final and Kara’s ready….She will become Mrs. Fatu….

Why do I say that?...... Because you can’t run from destiny and Kara was my destiny.

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[carussadiane]

easy to love

SARUKA HAKURA. 1,9k word count. fluff, it's full of sweet and fluffiness. self-indulgent.

Summary: he's the embodiment of love, while you have the lightest tounge in the world

All of his life, Sakura only knows one path, and that is the thin line in front of his eyes. The tightrope looks fragile, easily snapped under an overwhelming weight. One wrong move, his life will end in a blink of an eye. 

His breathing is heavy everytime he exhales. His hands are shaking while steadily keeping all his weight balance on the tightrope. It’s the only path he has, so complaining was a waste of time. He has to prove his value in other ways. 

That’s why he moved to Makochi, transferred to Furin High School to show his value is much greater than everyone thought. His existence is much more than just a bi-colored freak or a troublemaker. The strongest–he could prove his life in that city, to show his life has much more meaning than all those little things that people have thrown to his head. Sakura will bring himself to the top.

That environment fits him. He’s the trashiest person in his hometown, that boring place full of ignorant people didn’t move him. Furin was the greatest decision he ever made.

Well, that was the first plan before he saw the reality was much different than his expectation. 

In just a few weeks, everything changed. His fist has reason whenever he raises them. All violence he ever thow now has a purpose–to protect the city, the school, his friends. Sakura would never have thought he found his place after all the harshness and scorn he has to face before. It feels so warmth, comforting. Does he deserve all of this? 

Suo and Nirei always take him somewhere on their day off. Sometimes, they come to the rooftop, meeting Umemiya and other senpais. Umemiya never takes off his chance to show off his vegetable garden, and keeps saying it will be fun if Bofurin members could do a barbeque party someday. The delicious omurice in Cafe Pothos that Kotoha always cooked whenever he came to visit. His classmates, other Bofurin members, and the townsfolk too. Why is it so easy for them to show kindness to someone like him?

Those thoughts slowly eat his mind. Scared. Sakura is not a stranger to that feeling, but he never knew that dreadful feelings could swallow the happiness he felt with just one gulp. It’s scary. He can feel his hand shaking abruptly, chest heavy like there was someone pounded his body with a heavy boulder. It’s uncomfortable.

How can affection turn into something so… suffocating?

How can…

“Huh, Sakura-san? What are you doing out here late at night?”

A soft familiar voice cut through his train of thought, like a wind bell chiming in the summer, clear and ringing through the whole house. 

His head never turned around that fast, except in a fight, just to see who that voice belonged to. There you are standing with a bewildered face, holding your guitar case strap a little tighter before running quickly towards Sakura, who is still standing with a shocked face. Both of you have the same thought; didn’t expect to cross each other late at night.

“Huh–?! Speak for yourself!” He shouts, offended.

“Well yeah, but I’m not the one with my head in the cloud,” you shrugs lightly. “Are you having a little night stroll? Can I join?”

“No, go home! You just finished your gig, right? You’re gonna get into weird shit if you keep hanging out at night.”

Sakura frowns goes deeper when your smile grows fonder. Little giggles falling out between your lips. “I didn’t know you can be a worrywart too!”

An air chokes up from his chest. “What?! It just pisses me off some small fry making a ruckus at night like some rat!” He can feel his face heating up. “And you’re gonna drag me into this if that happens!”

“To be fair, you’re the one who dragged yourself that day, Sakura-san,” you snicker, “Just admit it, you care about me.”

Sound of crickets can be heard in the distance, filling the empty streets. Wind blows lightly towards their way, making the wind chime through the night, and sweeps out a few strands of your hair until its covers your sight.

You want to laugh out the embarrassment because the stupid wind couldn’t read your cue. Maybe Sakura has a different perspective, but you try to build a calm yet friendly persona to your new-found crush, covering up your loser side so you wouldn’t shame yourself someday. It seems nature has other plans, even though it’s just a small gush of wind. Curse you, wind.

Red bruises catch your eyes. When you want to reach out to look at it clearly, Sakura pulls his hand out of your sight, making you caught off guard. 

Sakura looks much more surprise than you, like a deer saw his mother getting shot in front of him. “Stop it!”

“But your hand–did you just get caught in a fight?” There is no single doubt Sakura could handle a few guys and bruises in his skin, but that doesn’t stop you from worrying about his state. “Let’s get you patch up first. The place I work still open this–”

“Worry about yourself,” he snarls, wary filling his gaze. Even so, you catch a different spark passing by in his eyes, is it anxiety? “This is normal after beating people up. It’ll probably heal tomorrow morning.”

Sakura turns around to see your hand holding onto the back of his jacket. You purse your lips before opening them up again, but no words fall out.

He wants to pull his jacket back then run back to his house, ignoring whatever silent plea you want to let out. Yet, he can’t. Sakura just stands there, couldn’t bring himself to run or ignore you, and holds his gaze to your fidgety hands.

“It hurts, right?” You smile, brows scrunch slightly. “Let’s treat it before you get infected. Okay?”

And, he can’t bring himself to reject when your hand gently takes his, pulling him towards the lit up building.

Cozy interior greets his eyes when you swing the door open. The cafe you work with has different aesthetics compared to Cafe Porthos because of karaoke settings and live music corner is the main entertainment in that place, but it has the same homey vibes for anyone who wants to spend their time, even though you came here alone without any company.

You lightly push Sakura to sit in front of the counter, while you’re heading back to ask your manager where the first-aid box is. Sakura scoffs when you reassure him you’ll be back before he knows it, like he was a kid that didn’t have enough patience to wait for 5 minutes.

This is not his first time visiting your workplace. The first time, well, he was getting dragged by you with reason as a form of gratitude. You were persistent, not accepting any answers except “yes” or “fine, i’ll come along”, and that attitude still stays in your smile. Content in every soft word you say.

“I’m back!” Sakura flinches from your booming voice, like there was no one else except both of you in the spacious room. You laugh softly seeing his reaction. “Sorry for startling you. Now, shall we get started? Clench your hand, please, but not too firm. Got it?”

“You’re treating me like a child,” Sakura scoffs, but he pulls out both of his knuckles to your gaze obediently, showing the reddish bruises from punching people in the gut. Heat slowly creeping up to his cheeks, feeling the softness of your hand brush his skin while you’re dapping the red medicine full of care.

The burning from red medicine makes him hisses through the pain. You notice how Sakura quirks his brows, grip the chair he sits to ground himself from running away. Physical touch with no malice or brutality is foreign to his skin, but you smile fondly as the blush exposes more clearly in his pale skin. Maybe you can call this a development.

“Open your hand?” you grip his wrist before letting go to wrap the bandages around his hands. It’s for formality, but you’re scared the medicine effect wears off faster if exposed too long with the wind.

Sakura knows all people in the town are weirdos, but you’re much more weird. What kind of a person who drags a stranger to watch their gig as a form of gratitude? You’re the only one who’s capable of doing that, and Sakura was the victim of your blatant words that day. Well, he got weird food while watching how you sing accompanied by slow music.

After that, you’re acting buddy-buddy around him. Greeting him good morning while you pass by with your friends. Offering him bread you just bought from the local bakery. He really can’t forget when you tell him everyday stories like he’s your close friend. You’re friendly, kind, and it’s suffocating to be around you. Does it feel like a waste to be spending time with him? He can’t give you the same energy.

“Why are you so kind to me?” That question rolls slowly from his tongue. He can feel the weight of your gaze burning, hurting him. “Not just you, other folks too.”

You hum softly. “Is it weird?”

“Of course it is! I’m a newcomer in this city, and just happened to help you guys because I hate seeing a weak ass not knowing his place.”

“Do you think you’re hard to love, Sakura-san?” No reply came. You peek from your lashes, see how dumbfound Sakura is from your words.  

You huff out, a small smile appears in your lips before continuing bandaging his palm. “To me, it’s like lifting a finger. You’re pure and kind-hearted, even though you didn’t realize that, but everyone around you does. Yeah, you have a very harsh way of saying things, but I kinda understand where that habit came from.”

He’s been alone for his whole life then affection starts to feel foreign. Caring started to feel like a luxury he couldn’t afford even with money. Kindness was a trap in his eyes. You understand his wariness and confusion to accept the townsfolk thank you gifts, but it’s sad to see that Sakura thinks he’s unloveable.

“It’s so easy to love you,” you declare, “Like breathing or drinking or walking. It's like an everyday routine. They just didn't know you close enough, that you're much precious that you can't ever imagine.”

“W–What?! Stop spewing nonsense like that!” Sakura raises his forearm to shield his blushing face from your peering eyes. It’s a mocking lie. Everyone leaves him alone in the dark, so he has to fight his way to find a place–just for him to show his value. There’s nothing worth to like from him. And yet…

How can someone like you–so easy to laugh without a single care in the world, giving kindness with no heavy weight in your arms, and look at him full of love and care–declare something like that? You already see him beating someone up with no care from his bloody nose and aching gut. It’s painful. It’s unbearable. But you still bandage his hand full of concentration, hold his hand to give some of your warmth.

He doesn’t deserve this.

“It’s not nonsense.”

He doesn’t deserve you.

Affection spilling from your eyes, while your smile never falters from the first day you met. “I never feel this light before I met you, Sakura-san,” you chime, “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”