#i’m proud of him more and more with each passing day but what exactly is this all for in the end

[otb-mp3]

is the message he’s sending actually going to be used to help further his career though

[starkeynation]

Is it casual now?

Content : angst, a bit similar to the scene where Sofia overheard Rafe saying she’s not his girlfriend, inspired by the song Casual by Chappell Roan (may or may not be accurate)

a/n : sorry in advanced i know Chappell is for the girlies also idk if im proud of this but your likes and reblogs will always be appreciated🤍

Part 2

── ⋆⋅˚ʚ♡ɞ˚⋅⋆ ──

It has been exactly 4 months since you met Rafe Cameron, the kook king you never knew you would fall so deeply for. The first time you met him, you were nothing but a blur in his world. A passing figure and a random pogue that was at his party. But Rafe, you saw something in him the moment you met his sparkling blue eyes. You couldn’t exactly tell what it was. Maybe it’s the fact that he looks so handsome even under bad lights, or the way you could listen to him forever every time he speaks. At that moment, you were ready to risk it all.

You made your move that night. The way you charmed him may have made him realize you both were something more than strangers passing through each other’s lives and ever since then, you were both inseparable. Although he said “No attachment,” the first time you both hooked up, you still went along with it, hoping it could be real one day.

Sometimes when you’re hanging out with your friends outside, you would hear some rumors saying you’re just a girl that Rafe bangs on his couch. The pogues call you a loser for still hanging around him but you ignore them and the rumors because most of the time he treats you as if you were someone he couldn’t lose. Just two weeks after knowing each other, he invites you to dinner with his whole family. The way he fucks you in the bathroom while his parents are still at the table, the way he brings you to the country club and shows you off, the way he’s eating you out in the passenger seat, and mostly the way he talks to you, so gently and sweet that got you thinking maybe this isn’t just some dumb love.

You’re at the pub where you agreed to meet Rafe. The sky on the way there was already turning a heavy blue slate, signaling that rain was on the way. You enter the pub and recognize Rafe’s back immediately standing on the other end accompanied by Topper and his foul girlfriend Ruthie. As you are about to approach them, you hear his voice, “She’s not my girlfriend okay, it’s just…casual. No strings attached.”

You freeze. The words land like ice in your chest, sharp and cold. If that isn’t enough you then hear Ruthie say, “You sure about that Rafe? How do your parents feel that you’re living with a pogue,” she smirks, her eyes gleaming with sarcasm.

“I’m not fucking living with a pogue okay,” he says annoyingly.

You have to steady yourself. You could feel your stomach churn as you’re processing what you’re hearing. You can’t believe it. You both never had a “talk” about being exclusive, but you thought you were starting to matter to him and close to making it official.

You hide behind a column in the middle of the pub, trying to decide what to do. Part of you wants to walk away, leave without saying a word, and let him figure out what he’d lost. But you couldn’t just let it go. So you make your way to the table, keeping a neutral face, and try to hold back your tears.

“Hey, there you are,” Rafe smiles, as you approach him.

“Hey,” you say, your voice steady, though it takes everything you have to keep it from shaking. “We need to talk.” Before he could say anything, you grab his hand taking him outside the pub. As you stand outside, it’s already drizzling.

“Whoa, what’s wrong? Can't we talk inside? It’s raining,” he asks, his voice full of confusion.

You let go of his hand and go silent for a moment. He looks at your face that is now about to cry, “Baby what’s wrong?” he says.

“Don’t call me that if you don’t mean it Rafe,” you mutter.

He blinks. “What are you talking about?”

“I heard you,” your voice loud now. “Telling them we’re not dating? No strings attached? Seriously Rafe? After these past few months? Is it casual now?”

Rafe’s face shifts, the unease creeping into his features. He clears his throat, trying to smooth over the tension. “Look, I thought we’re on the same page here-“

“Same page? What same page are we talking about?” You cut him off. “I thought you were starting to look at me differently now Rafe.” You fluster. “Oh and not to mention calling me a pogue? I thought we’re WAY past that..”

He sighs, scratching the back of his head. “Ok about that I'm sorry kay’. I didn’t mean to call you a pogue just, you know…Topper and Ruthie, they caught me off guard. And you never really talked about anything more serious, so I figured we’re just not together.”

You could feel the heat rising in your chest. “I never talked about it? Oh so now I’m the one to blame? Are you serious?” Your eyes narrow.

He pauses, trying to find the right thing to say. “I just…I’m happy with the way we are right now. I’m not-“

“Not what? Not ready to be in a relationship? That’s bullshit.” You cut him off again, not wanting to hear any excuses. “How can you stand there and say you’re okay with this? After all the plans we made, the endless nights we spent?” you continue, meeting his gaze that looks unbothered. “You know what…I can’t…yes, I tried to be the chill girl who holds her tongue and gives you space but not anymore. No, I’m done,” you say, trying to walk away.

The rain is getting heavier now, and both of you are soaking wet. “Wait,” he calls out your name. “Just wait okay…I’m sorry I hurt you, yes I would be lying if I said this doesn’t mean something but just give me time okay, I just…I can't do relationships right now,” he says, grabbing your wrist trying to stop you.

“No Rafe,” you shake your head, a tear runs down to your cheek. “I’m done waiting. It’s hard Rafe…It’s hard being casual when my favourite bra lives in your dresser and it’s definitely not casual when I’m always on the phone talking to Wheezie like I’m her sister,” you swallow, biting your inner cheek trying to keep your emotion in check.

He gives a small dismissive wave, like I’m overthinking things. “Well I did warn you no attachment, y/n,” he says, with such cold detachment, as if his words are nothing more than a simple fact, devoid of any emotion.

You look at him with disappointment crawling up to your throat. He isn’t even trying to make it work, not even pretending to care about how you feel. You hate the fact what he said is true, he did warn you not to get attached and you hate yourself even more for dragging this on for so long. You stare at him for a moment longer, “Fuck you, Rafe,” then you turn and walk away to your car. There is no use in arguing with someone who has no intention of changing their mind. If this is how Rafe sees you, then he is not the guy you think he is.

Maybe he is okay with keeping things casual but you deserve more than that. Rafe Cameron can go to hell.

[harryspet]

homestead [5] r.cameron

[warnings] dark!rafe cameron x pregnant!mom!reader, farmer!rafe, pogue!reader, jj maybank x reader, kidnapping, dominant!rafe, dad!rafe, descriptions of birth, NONCON, little editing,READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 3.1k

In which you settle into a new routine on the farm and your new life takes shape around you.

homestead masterlist

Your ring finally fit again, the swelling in your hands having gone down. It was beautiful, you realized again, and a reminder that you were more than Rafe’s captive. The paperwork didn’t matter to him, and the formalities were meaningless in his eyes.

His connection with you was primal, bound by something more profound than vows. He would love you in sickness and health and vowed to provide for you and your baby, no matter the cost.

Two months have passed since you gave birth to a healthy baby boy. You had longed to meet him, but your pregnancy had been filled with anxiety. Despite your hopes, you couldn’t shake the fear that something would go wrong during your home birth. And in the end, you had no control over the most important day of your life. Rafe had promised to be open-minded, but you soon realized his words were hollow.

He hired a midwife, an older, experienced nurse named Mabel, whom you had met twice before the big day. When your water broke, she was at your home within thirty minutes, a testament to her dedication. Despite the fear and anxiety you felt, Mabel was a steady presence. She guided you through each contraction, her hands firm yet gentle, her voice calm and reassuring.

She held your hand throughout the process and praised you when you felt you were at the end of your rope. Hunched over the edge of the master bathtub, warm water caressing the naked bottom half of your body, you faced a raging storm inside you. The pain was indescribable, but you felt a responsibility to your unborn child. The least you could do for him was try your hardest. 

You screamed loud enough you thought you might lose your voice entirely. You expected Rafe to falter, to show signs of fear, but his resolve didn’t falter. He hadn’t lied before about his confidence in you, about how deeply he believed you’d be a good mother. You could see in his eyes that he was the most proud of you that he’d ever been. 

“She’s an old lady, but she’s got grandkids. Three boys and two girls. I’m sure they want to see her again. If you say anything out of line, I’ll make sure she doesn’t ever leave here,” He’d warned you earlier, and his threat lingered in the air. You focused on the baby just as you had since you arrived here.

You cried even more after your final push when your son’s cries filled the room. They echoed, the most beautiful sounds you could hear in that moment, and you were happy to be able to hold him immediately. 

In that moment, the house you associated with being controlled turned into a home. You’d endured here and brought life into the world despite everything. 

You had braced yourself for the sight of JJ, but instead, your baby looked like any other newborn—red-faced, furrowed brow, and already expressing his displeasure at the world. Fragile and tiny, he was a perfect, delicate being. Surprisingly, you managed to walk to the bedroom that night. Mabel and Rafe helped you through your exhaustion beyond anything you’d ever known. The constant cries of your baby kept you alert, preventing you from drifting off.

Kai, your baby boy, was carefully assessed by Mabel. She was the one to cut the umbilical cord, a request you’d made to her during your last meeting. She wrapped a warm towel around his body and checked his heart rate, made sure he was able to breathe correctly by suctioning his airways and placed him back on your chest when she felt he didn’t need any immediate care. You couldn’t remember exactly, but you could’ve sworn she complimented you. You were a natural, and at that moment, you believed her.

Never in your life had you done something so natural, so innate, and now the heart in your chest was open in a way you didn’t realize it was capable of being. Open for Kai. You loved him instantly, in a way you’d never felt towards anyone – not even JJ. 

You cried the entire time. Your cheeks were wet with tears, but your body moved the way it needed to. 

Throughout it all, you cried. Your cheeks were damp with tears, but you moved as needed. You cradled Kai while Mabel tended to your injuries, checking for hemorrhaging and monitoring your vitals. She continued to guide you, and though you knew the real challenge was just beginning, you were grateful for her support. This wasn’t how you envisioned it, but dwelling on it wouldn’t change anything.

Despite how close you were to falling asleep, this was the time you had to learn because Mabel wouldn’t be here forever. You wished you’d read more books about parenting like Rafe had suggested when learning to breastfeed. You were clumsy with that part of things, unsure of the positioning, and you battled with the fear that you wouldn’t be able to produce enough.

Now, two months later, you worried for the time that Kai wouldn’t need you. He was so tiny, to little to think about at that time, but you hated to admit how much you enjoyed the feeling of being needed. You felt it with Rafe now that he relied on you to keep the house together and the more intimate ways that he needed your attention. 

It seemed he’d had the time frame of four to six weeks embedded in his mind. Four to six weeks without sex to allow for proper healing. During that time, he had kept his distance, allowing you to heal. But once your body began to return to normal, and you could swap the adult diapers for regular underwear, you noticed a change in him. There was a raw, almost animalistic instinct in him that recognized when your body was ready again. The shift was subtle but undeniable, and you were drawn back into his orbit. 

Rafe had started growing out his facial hair, which you had playfully dubbed a “dad stache.” That nickname once led to a playful tackle and laughter-filled tickle fight that filled you with joy. You had expected to see less of him with the baby as an excuse to keep you apart, but instead, he adapted. He worked from home more often, bringing Kai with him and letting him nap in a bassinet beside his desk.

You thought you’d be weary of them being alone together as you were still getting used to this new Rafe. To you, he was still the guy who did lines of cocaine at high school parties and perfectly drove a yacht when his blood alcohol was way over the legal limit. There were still lots of moments where he needed your help, but he seemed to take pride in being able to handle Kai on his own. 

Now and then, you’d get an eerie feeling, realizing you’d settled into a routine. You’d spend weeks happy, not crying or thinking of JJ and Pope. It hit you like a ton of bricks when you remembered, and you’d often go quiet. It was a pit of sadness that was hard to pull yourself out of. 

As you looked down at your beautiful ring, you marveled at how normal it felt to wear it. Keeping it in its box seemed like a waste, especially since the ring wasn’t to blame for past wrongs. It could symbolize whatever you choose to make of it. When you glanced up, Rafe was walking through the front door. Molly greeted him with enthusiastic barks until he quieted her with a gentle shush and a pat behind her ears. He correctly assumed Kai was sleeping.

You folded your hands behind your back, watching the smile that pulled at his lips. He flipped his ball cap so the brim was facing behind him, undoubtedly to keep his locks from his face. Your eyes trailed down to his t-shirt and then his arms, seemingly having grown even more prominent when you’d been reunited with him. The way he looked in work clothes certainly wasn’t fair. He looked even more like himself, better than ever than he had in a blazer and tie. 

“Hey,” His crystal eyes found yours, “How’s it going?”

The whisper in his voice, this new tone the two of you now spoke in because of the baby, was the icing on top. You squeezed your thighs together, grateful for the long smock dress you were wearing, officially signaled to you how out of whack your hormones were. 

“Lunch is ready,” you said quickly, pointing to the neat plate of caprese sandwiches you’d made. 

“Looks great, Honey. I’m starved.”

He walked by you, towards the the sink to wash his hands, but you were looking away. You grabbed two plates and two glasses, setting them down in front of the kitchen island’s bar stools. You started making your plate before you poured both of your glasses of pink lemonade. 

“This a recipe from the book?” He asked before immediately chugging down half of his glass. 

“No, I kind of just threw together what we had in the fridge,” You answered, grabbing ahold of your sandwich. Rafe was already taking a massive bite out of his, “How is it?”

“Fucking delicious. Is that pesto?” He responded, his mouth a little too full. 

“Yeah,” you chuckled, taking a bite of yours. “Pesto, tomato, mozzarella, and spinach. And that ciabatta bread you get from the market. It’s so good.” You recited the ingredients, deciding that you were quite impressed with your work. 

“Reminds me, I need to go down there soon. Make a list of everything you need, will you?”

You nodded, “I will.”

The thought of going with him crossed your mind. Being inside for so long was starting to make you slightly agoraphobic. Now that you have Kai, you understand that you need to protect him and keep him from the dangers of the outside world. 

After lunch, Rafe pitched in to help with the kitchen clean up while you prepped ingredients for dinner. Tasks you’d never learned in foster care, like defrosting meat properly or dicing vegetables, were becoming more familiar.

You stole glances at Rafe, of his muscular back that you could see clearly when he bent over the sink and his long fingers splayed out over a cloth as he dried dishes. To gain some space, you took the baby monitor from the counter and quietly moved down the small hallways near the kitchen, deciding to catch up on some laundry. With Kai, there was even less time in the day to get things done, so you’d begin cramming your chores into his nap time. 

You were listening to the rhythmic, mechanical hum of the washing machine, folding towels on the counter space near the window. Hands-on your hips jolted you from the escape your mind had reached, completing such a monotonous activity. 

There was no point in saying his name; you knew it was him, and you froze, letting the unfolded towel you were holding crumple beneath you. He pressed into you, pinning your front to the counter. The height of the counter, right at your waist, allowed him to wrap his arm around your front and bend you over. 

“I’m doing something!” You yelped when he pushed he pushed your front back down after you tried to straighten yourself. He pressed his face into your neck, chuckling, seemingly amused at your defiance. 

“You know what you do to me, don’t you?” He grunted, and your eyes widened as you felt him hiking up your dress. He made sure you felt exactly what you did to him, hard and pressing against your bottom, “You feel how hard you make me?”

“I’m serious,” The warmth of his breath sent shivers down your spine, and deep down, you were grateful for the friction. It had been so long since you’d been touched the way you needed. This isn’t how you wanted it to happen and it certainly was a stark contrast to how he’d treated you when you were further along in your pregnancy. There was no passionate makeout or a gentle massage. It reminded you of what you already knew he was capable of, “Rafe, please–”

He kicked open your legs, pressing into you harder, one hand firmly on your back as he pressed you into the counter, “You don’t need to fight it. You’re mine, remember? I take care of you.” 

“Yes, just please–” His palm slammed hard down on your bottom, and you gripped the towels in front of you tightly. Whatever view he was getting of you was pleasing. He brought his hands down several times, surely leaving bruises and making your legs tremble as you tried to escape the pain, “Rafe, stop! That hurts!” 

He shushed you, “Stop fucking moving then,” He continued his assault, only stopping when you gained enough strength to still your legs. You kept them still as you could despite how the skin of your bottom burned. He stepped backward. You didn’t dare move again, and you heard the clinking of his belt and the undoing of his zipper, “Atta girl, stay bent over, but reach back and pull your panties down.”

“Rafe, please don’t be so rough,” Your voice was low as you tried to settle down your racing thoughts. 

“Honey,” His voice was raw, slightly pleading, “I need you like this. Pull your panties down.”

You felt the same hunger, needed to quench the same thirst, but demons haunted him. He could be gentle when he wanted but this is what he truly desired. You cringed when you heard him spit, assuming it was into his hand because you were scared to look back at him. His hand was now lubricated; you heard him pumping at his length. 

Slowly, you reached behind to pull down your panties, revealing more of the bottom he’d just bruised, “Fuck,” He cursed, “Touch yourself, Honey.”

You did as he said, knowing the feeling would be more soothing than him spanking you again. Mostly, you were hesitant, knowing that you were revealing how wet you already were, how just looking at him earlier left stickiness on your thighs. 

“You like when I tell you what to do, don’t you?”

“Rafe,” You pleaded, and he knew what that meant. 

“You need someone like me. Tell you what to do. No thoughts in your pretty little head,” You felt him come closer as you continued to rub slow circles, “Yeah? Tell me, Honey.”

“I … I like it,” You needed him inside you and for the process to hurry itself up. Your mind was emptying; all you knew was that every word and every inch he came closer made you feel like you were on fire. 

“What do you like, Honey?”

“I like … w-when you tell me what to do.”

“You need me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Rafe,” You moaned, “Just … fuck, please Rafe–”

“Tell me,” A hard spank made you yelp. You watched as he placed the same hand against the counter, right by your face. You kept circling. 

“Please, can you put it inside?” You begged softly. 

“So polite,” He praised, and you felt him at your entrance. You expected him to enter you slowly, to torture you, but Rafe slid inside you in one swift motion. You cried out as his other hand roughly grabbed your waist as he drove into you harshly. 

It was painful before it was pleasurable. He grabbed your arm so you were no longer touching yourself before pinning both your wrists behind you. You watched the baby monitor in front of you fall over at the rough motion. 

The counter’s edge dug into your hips, his length nudged against your cervix, your ass was throbbing from the spanking, but you hung onto that feeling of finally feeling filled. His grunts filled the small room, along with the steady thrum of the washing machine and the soft static of the monitor. 

There was nowhere to go, and his wrists only tightened, “I’m gonna put another baby in you,” Almost against your will, your climax came faster than you realized, and it tore through you hard and fast. Rafe took it as a sign that your body wanted this. This was the first time he could get you pregnant, and you were naive to think he would want to take things slowly. 

“Rafe, I can’t.”

“You will; you’re doing so good for me,” He spoke huskily, ignoring you, his pace still relentless. Tears of pleasure and pain filled your eyes and escaped down your cheeks, “I’ll show you … Fuck, I’m so lucky.”

His body tensed as he spilled into you with a final and forceful thrust. As he let go of your wrists, his hands trailed over your hips, his grip starting to soften. You stayed there, frozen, as he kissed the side of your neck and then your temple. 

In the aftermath, a softness emerged in his tone, “You okay?”

When you didn’t answer, his arms tightened around you, lifting you off your feet. Numb and strangely satisfied, you wrestled with a creeping regret. Part of you questioned whether you should have fought harder, but another part wondered if this was simply how things were meant to be—if this was what you deserved.

With panties still loose around your thighs, Rafe brought you upstairs to the shared bedroom. He placed you on your feed inside the bathroom before helping you out. You folded your hands in your lap, looking down at your ring. “Relax,” he said, “Clean yourself up.”

“But Kai-”

“I’ll check on him,” Rafe assured you.

“He’ll need a feeding soon.”

“Clean up first, lay in the bed, and I’ll bring him to you.”

“Okay,” You agreed. 

There was no apology from him—only an acceptance of his own nature and an expectation for you to do the same

You showered like he’d instructed, but that didn't take away the feeling of him being deep inside of you. Your bottom stung worse under the warm water, but you accepted the small amount of refreshment it offered. You dressed in a soft, white robe before you climbed into the bed. The rest of the afternoon was quiet. 

Rafe sat beside you as you fed Kai, his gaze steady and watchful. Thirty minutes later, the three of you settled into a peaceful mid-afternoon nap: Kai nestled in his bassinet by your side of the bed, and you resting in the secure embrace of Rafe’s arms.

You don’t forget your old life because you choose to, but because your heart needs to make space—space for Kai and the future Rafe is determined to build within you. There was no room left for pain.

I hope you enjoyed it! I'm not sure if I want to add anything else, I feel like this could be considered a good conclusion. Let me know your thoughts!

[woozinhos]

was thinking bout car sex and the scene continues to their room and they had mirror sex with wonwoo 🤯🔥🥵🥵🥵

I’ll say this now you’ll want to read this fic I’m proud of this one 🤭

Watch yourself baby

You and Wonwoo have been making out heavily in the car, unable to keep your hands off each other. The windows are fogged up and the air is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing. Wonwoo pulls back from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "I need you," he growls, his voice rough with need. "Now."

You nod, already feeling aroused from the makeout session. Wonwoo quickly gets out of the car and comes around to your side, opening the door and pulling you out. He presses you up against the side of the car, his body pinning you against the cool metal.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. "I can't wait any longer."

Wonwoo opens the back door and practically throws you inside, climbing in after you and shutting the door behind him. He immediately pulls you onto his lap, his hands roaming all over your body as he kisses you hungrily.

"You have no idea how bad I want you," he growls, his lips moving down to your neck again. "I need to taste you. Right now."

Wonwoo's hands roam lower, sliding under your skirt and up your thighs. He groans as he feels your skin against his fingers, his desire growing with each passing moment.

"God, you're so sexy," he mutters, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbone. "I could just eat you up."

Wonwoo's fingers reach the edge of your underwear, and he hooks them into the fabric, slowly pulling them down your legs. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his breath catching in his throat.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice filled with awe. "And all mine."

Wonwoo's fingers move to your core, gently tracing the outline of your folds. He looks up at you, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly begins to tease you.

"You're already so wet for me," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "I can feel how much you want me."

Wonwoo gently pushes you down onto the seat, his hands on your hips as he positions himself between your legs. He looks up at you, his eyes burning with desire, before lowering his head to your core. His tongue flicks out, teasing you gently at first, before he begins to devour you in earnest. He licks and sucks and nibbles, his tongue moving in a way that drives you wild. Wonwoo hooks your leg over his shoulder, pulling you closer to him as he continues to eat you out. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he works his magic.

He looks up at you from between your legs, his eyes burning with intensity as he watches your reactions. "You taste so good," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin. "I could do this all day."

Wonwoo increases the pressure of his tongue, focusing his attention on your clit. He knows just how to work you, knowing exactly what makes you moan and writhe in pleasure. He can feel you getting closer to the edge, your body tensing beneath him as you approach your release. He looks up at you again, his eyes locking with yours.

"Come for me, baby," he whispers, his voice low and seductive. "I want to taste every drop of you."

You can't hold back any longer, your body trembling as you come undone under Wonwoo's skilled tongue. He groans in satisfaction as he feels you come, lapping up every last bit of your release. He finally pulls away, looking up at you with a smug smile on his face. "You taste even better when you come," he says, his voice husky with desire. Wonwoo crawls back up your body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it only makes you want him more.

He pulls back from the kiss, looking down at you with a hungry gaze. "I'm not done with you yet," he growls, his hands roaming all over your body again. "I need more of you."

Wonwoo gently helps you out of the car, his hands still roaming over your body as he leads you to the front door. He opens the door and ushers you inside, following closely behind. As soon as the door closes behind you, he pins you against the wall, his body pressed up against yours.

"I can't wait to take you to bed," he whispers in your ear, his hands already working to remove your clothes.

Wonwoo picks you up effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom as he slaps your ass playfully. He lays you down on the bed, crawling on top of you and caging you in with his body.

"You're mine tonight," he growls, his eyes dark with desire. "And I'm going to make sure you know it."

Wonwoo smirks down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I have an idea," he says, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "But you have to trust me." You look up at him, curiosity and excitement mixing in your gaze. "What is it?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Wonwoo grabs the full-length mirror and props it up against the wall, positioning it so that you can see yourself lying on the bed. He steps back and looks at you with a wicked grin.

"Come here," he says, his voice low and commanding. "I want you to watch yourself while I make you scream."

Wonwoo climbs back onto the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he moves to position himself between your legs. He pushes your legs apart, spreading you open for his viewing pleasure.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his eyes roaming

over your body in the mirror. "You're so beautiful. So ready for me."

Wonwoo quickly flips you over onto your hands and knees, positioning you so that you're facing the mirror. He stands behind you, his eyes raking over your body in the reflection.

"Look at yourself," he commands, his voice low and rough. "Look at how perfect you are. How beautiful."

You can't help but look at yourself in the mirror, your eyes locking with your own as you take in the sight of your body from this angle. Wonwoo moves behind you, his hands tracing a path down your spine and over the curve of your ass.

"You're so sexy like this," he growls, his hands gripping your hips. "All spread out and ready for me. I could look at you like this all day."

Wonwoo grins as he watches your reaction in the mirror, enjoying the way you shiver at the contact. He slaps his dick against your pussy again, this time harder, and leans down to whisper in your ear.

"Do you like that, baby? Do you like feeling how hard I am for you?"

"Watch the mirror," Wonwoo repeats, his voice commanding. "I want you to see every expression on your face as I take you. I want you to see how beautiful you look when you come undone for me."

Wonwoo positions himself at your entrance, teasing you with the tip of his cock. He looks at you in the mirror, his eyes burning with desire.

"You're going to watch me take you," he says, his voice low and seductive. "And you're going to keep your eyes on the mirror until I tell you to stop."

Wonwoo thrusts into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. He lets out a low groan as he bottoms out, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"God, you feel so good," he growls, his eyes locked on yours in the mirror. "You're so tight around me."

Wonwoo grabs a handful of your hair, pulling your head back as he starts to thrust harder. He watches your face in the mirror, relishing in the expressions of pleasure that cross your features.

"Look at you," he says, his voice rough with lust. "You're so desperate for me. So needy."

Wonwoo continues to thrust into you, his movements becoming more and more forceful as he loses himself in the moment. He keeps a tight grip on your hair, using it to pull your head back so that you can see yourself in the mirror.

"You're mine," he growls, his eyes never leaving yours. "You belong to me. No one else can make you feel like this."

Wonwoo leans down, his chest pressed against your back as he continues to thrust into you. He whispers in your ear, his voice low and possessive.

"You're mine to do with as I please," he says, his breath hot against your skin. "And I'm going to use you until you can't take it anymore."

You watch yourself in the mirror, your eyes glued to the image of your body being taken by Wonwoo. You can see the pleasure etched on your face, the way your body responds to his every movement. Wonwoo watches you as well, his eyes flicking between your face in the mirror and the way your body moves beneath him. He can see the effect he's having on you, and it only spurs him on further. Wonwoo grabs your ass, using it for leverage as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. He squeezes the flesh in his hands, enjoying the way it feels beneath his fingers.

"Your ass is perfect," he growls, his voice strained with exertion. "I could play with it all day."

Wonwoo continues to thrust into you, his hands roaming over your body as he takes you from behind. He slaps your ass again, the sound echoing through the room.

"You like it when I'm rough with you, don't you?" he asks, his voice rough with desire. "You love feeling my hands on you, marking you as mine."

Wonwoo continues to thrust into you, his hands roaming over your body as he takes you from behind. He slaps your ass again, the sound echoing through the room.

"You like it when I'm rough with you, don't you?" he asks, his voice rough with desire. "You love feeling my hands on you, marking you as mine."

“God Wonwoo I’m gonna cum please!” You cry.

Wonwoo grins as he hears your words, his thrusts becoming even more intense.

"Good girl," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "I want you to come for me. I want to feel you tighten around my cock."

Wonwoo watches in the mirror as you come, a satisfied smirk on his face. He slows his movements, letting you ride out your orgasm before he continues.

"That's it," he says, his voice low and possessive. "Let go for me, baby. I want to see you fall apart."

Wonwoo continues to move inside you, his pace slower now but no less intense. He can feel you trembling beneath him, still sensitive from your orgasm.

"You're so beautiful when you come," he murmurs, his hands tracing a path down your spine. "But I'm not done with you yet."

Wonwoo flexes his muscles, his body tensing as he gets closer to his own release. He watches himself in the mirror, enjoying the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin. He thrusts harder, his movements becoming more and more erratic as he nears the edge. He grips your hips tightly, using you to anchor himself as he chases his release. Wonwoo's breathing becomes ragged as he continues to thrust into you, his eyes locked on your reflection in the mirror. He can feel his orgasm building, a wave of pleasure threatening to crash over him at any moment.

"I'm close," he grunts, his voice rough with need. "I'm so close, baby."

Wonwoo pulls your hair back, arching your neck and exposing it to him. He leans down, his lips trailing a path down your skin as he continues to thrust into you.

"I'm going to come," he growls, his breath hot against your ear. "I'm going to fill you up."

You watch as Wonwoo comes undone, his body tensing and his eyes squeezing shut as he reaches his climax. He lets out a deep, guttural groan, his hips stuttering against yours as he spills himself inside you. He collapses against your back, his body spent and shaking with pleasure. He pants heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to catch his breath. Wonwoo smiles at you, his eyes still dark with desire even after his orgasm. He reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers trailing over your skin.

"You're even more beautiful when you're all sweaty," he says, his voice rough. "I could get used to seeing you like this."

[neoraso]

pancakes & champagne |sjy

jake x fem reader literally js fluff as per usual, reader teases jakey and then gets a taste of her own medicine. wc: 1.8k~

you had felt quite proud with yourself after hearing of a new pasta place to try for date night. you had talked it up all week, only to find out it was closed on thursdays. as in - today, as in- the one day he had off just for the two of you. so now you were left with the task of looking for a new place and feeling very down to the wire, the gnaw in your stomach wasn’t helping either. he, on the other hand, was doing his best to distract you and to not join in your frustration. it was a shock his lips weren’t numb by now after being pressed anywhere on your neck and face and shoulders he could reach for the last ten minutes.

“jake, please,” you said exasperatedly, “i’m trying to figure this out.” scrolling past all the suggestions with below four star ratings. and he was still kissing your neck.

“maybe we should try a lower rated place. it could be like a hidden gem.” he smirked against your skin, biting down. “try that one.”

you put your hand in between your neck and his mouth, hoping to cease his onslaught of attention and clicked on the chicken shop he suggested. he kissed your palm three times each with a noise louder than the last and pulled it into his lap, resting his chin on your shoulder. as soon as you opened the website, he hissed while you scoffed at the top review.

“not only was staff incredibly rude - had the shits for days. if i could give this place 0 stars i would. negative stars actually”

you looked through a few other reviews that said more of the same and felt your strength floating away.

jake started nuzzling against you with a dopey smile on his face that completely contrasted your glower.

“ok maybe not.” he paused, already laughing at his next idea, “why don’t we just cook?”

you leaned back, narrowing your eyes with a look he knew exactly what it meant causing him to snicker.

“i can’t think of a time where cooking hasn’t ended in a medical emergency.” you said with an impossibly straight face.

he only laughed and pressed his fingers into your shoulder before standing up and pulling you with him.

“guess we have no other choice but our backup, babe.” his words could’ve sounded disappointed, but the sharp corners of his mouth pulled impossibly back and his eyes sparkling said he didn’t care where you went- as long as he was with you.

you sighed while he swung your intertwined hands together, looking down with a pout. your “backup” was an- admittedly cute- pancake place that was open until 10 p.m.

you and jake frequented here in times like these and especially once he had already decided he wanted it. the manager was nice and always serviced you, once saying just your faces brought business in, but it was still a letdown that you’d have to wait until the next time you and jake’s schedules matched up.

you felt like a child with the way your bottom lip jutted out and you shuffled your feet. “but i really wanted to try that place with you…”

he raised one of your linked pair of hands and poked your cheek

“aw baby don’t pout, not your fault they were closed. we can get your favorite treat too and come back and watch our show, hm?”

“but they had strawberry champagne…” you were whining now.

“let’s go lovey, the pancakies will make you forget all about any strawberry champagne yeah?”

“okay…” you drawled out the affirmation, still looking at the floor with a pout.

“ok baby. now gimme a kiss and we can go. c’mon, you look so pretty, and it’ll cheer you up. i promise.”

you whined his name as he leaned in anyway, breathing in against your cheek

“you always say just one kiss…” you indulged him anyway lifting your head to meet his lips.

“well i can’t help it. you’re my dream.” he kissed you longer now and you let him, already feeling the disappointment dissipating with every pass of his breath over your mouth. you could feel yourself doing exactly what you accused him of, humming against him and letting go of his hands to reach around his neck to pull him so much closer.

much to your dismay, (second L of the night), he pulled away abruptly, tapping your glossy lips with his finger affectionately.

“ok let’s go!” he announced all too cheerfully.

he walked right past you and headed to the entryway while you dazedly trailed behind, almost tripping as you caught up to him. it flashed in your mind that you had been rejecting his advances all night and now you had to pay the price

he slipped his boots on and crouched to grab your sneakers, opting for ones that matched your outfit that you hadn’t bothered changing.

it was a bit pitiful how it was now of all times, as your boyfriend was knelt down tying your shoelaces for you, that you suddenly became insatiable.

this type of doting had started before you dated and he fervently aimed to impress you, shameless in his infatuation but as time went on and he learned your habits and really fell in love with you, he began to do little things like this as if it was second nature.

you pet his hair as he finished with your other shoe.

“jakey.”

humming absentmindedly as he stood up and grabbed your jacket from the closet, knowing you hate to carry it but eventually (and without fail) get chilly.

“jakey jakeyyy” the hope that your singsong would be a bit less pathetic was immediately undermined by your weak tugs on his sleeve to get his attention. for someone who had been avoiding his mouth as a whole for the last half hour, you sure were itching to get your hands on him again…

chuckling a bit as he gave one last glance at the mirror to fix his bangs, he turned to your eyes that had widened and glossed over with an expectant look in hopes he’d give you what you wanted without you having to ask for it.

“what is it? you look so funny.”

“can you just-” you pulled at his sleeves to bring him closer. he was grinning but also looking at you with raised eyebrows, waiting for you to get on with this act he knew would end eventually

“can i just what?” he couldn’t help giggling now, reaching up to stroke your fingers that had inched up to his shoulders. it was becoming apparent that he knew exactly what you wanted him to do and was now going to tease you until you said it yourself. “use your big girl words, c’mon.” talking through his smile while he pinched your cheek, already looking at your lips so you knew he wanted it too.

“won’t you kiss me? just real quick before we go?” was all you could whisper out under the suffocation of his stare. your eyes rounding and mouth parting came with the territory of being so into your boyfriend. sometimes you liked to try and play it cool but inside you knew you could barely handle not being on him for more than ten minutes-sometimes less- such as right now.

“you want a kiss? weren’t you just teasing me about kissing you too much?” his words had absolutely no bite because he was smirking, impossibly straight canines hanging over his bottom lip as he zoned in on your own mouth.

“maybe, but now you’re being mean.” you huffed out.

his eyes were still shining and if you looked close enough you might’ve seen a reflection of yourself as sweetly as he saw you. his laugh came out in an exhale from his nose as he tried to keep from smiling with his teeth.

“alright baby i’m done teasing.”

he leaned over the shoe-filled gap between the two of you and used the hand that wasn’t holding your coat to pull you in softly by the back of your neck. the room was silent when your noses touched as he playfully rubbed his against yours. you tilted your head up meeting him there whether he wanted to keep playing around or not. he clearly thought your impatience was amusing (more likely endearing) because it seemed to take all the strength in his body to pucker his tightly smiling lips to give you a proper smooch rather than you just kissing his teeth.

excitement buzzed through you when he kicked the shoes on the floor to the side to get closer, sighing into your mouth and laving his tongue over your bottom lip-never sliding it in. he was being sweet but clearly holding back, trying to respect the time.

it was really only maybe 30 seconds of this little dance before he pulled away and you reluctantly released his bottom lip from your teeth. the sight of the bright pink shade and sheen of his post-kiss lips were enough to make you feral all over again.

as if on cue, your stomach suddenly groaned signaling your neglect of food amidst your little kiss fest.

before he could comment, you dramatically sighed.

“okay fine, maybe i am the problem, let’s go.” you turned to open the door, his chuckle could only hit your back as you undid the lock.

“i didn’t even say anything! but it is already 7:30…”

feeling only slightly forlorn about your deprivation but still wanting to tease him,

 “you didn’t have to say anything…”

as you exited the house with him directly behind it only took three steps for him to swiftly wrap his fingers around your wrist, tugging until you turned around to face him. now it was your turn to stare in waiting. you didn’t have to wait long before he took your face in his free hand, tilting it up until you could feel his breath on your face.

“babe, you know i could stay in with you all day, but i also know you need to eat, otherwise you’ll be so grumpy. and neither of us want that.” he pressed his lips hard enough against you so you could only breathe in him. the hand on your face moved to behind your neck, pulling you against him until you hummed, pulling away and pecking him once more with your eyes still closed.

“can’t have my girl starving on my watch that’s gotta be some kind of misdemeanor for negligence.” he said, making your pouty demeanor falter into a laugh before slinging his arm around your shoulder for the rest of the way to the car.

after opening your door and buckling you in, giggling when he noticed your eyes burning holes into his face, pinching your cheek before slipping into the drivers seat.

“pancakies for my girl lets go~”

you put your hand over his on the gear shift,

“just one more kiss?”

he leaned against the headrest shaking his head ever so fondly,

“you're crazy, y'know that?”

[starfilmz]

THERE SHE GOES — DEAN F.

⤷ Just tooth-rotting fluff of you talking to Dean Forrester for the first time. ᡣ𐭩

cw: fem!reader, so much fluff and sweetness, just reader being a girl, this is s1 dean since he’s the only i’ve seen, no rory au lmao, unbeta’d so grammar and spelling mistakes are probably there, english is not my first language :,) banner || gif

“Here are the keys, darlin’.” The item jingled in between Ms. Patty’s fingers as it landed on your palms, barely catching it from falling on the piles of snow on the ground. You were never really the graceful one. It took you about a year of living in Stars Hallow to get used to Ms. Patty’s natural whimsicalness and spontaneous energy—you’re not getting any smoother by the days.

You shoved the keys down your pocket, watching as she walked down the small set of stairs. “You’re closing a bit earlier today. Something happened?”

“Tomorrow’s Bid on a Basket, honey! I gotta make my own set for the wonderful event—maybe I’ll be able to enjoy some of my fresh cakes with a fine man,” Ms. Patty winked, giggling to herself. “A lot of people are joinin', I heard. Are you not participating?”

Your mouth contorted into a mixture of a smile and a frown—if that was even possible—as you awkwardly chuckled. “Probably not this time, Ms. Patty.”

As much as you wished to join the fundraiser, most of your free time in the morning was consumed with homework and your jobs. Your mom’s decision to switch jobs last month caused a bit of a financial strain in the family, resulting in you taking on more jobs as she adjusted to her new work.

“I’m working a shift at Luke’s tomorrow. I won’t have the time to make the food and hang out with the lucky bidder.” Your lips formed into a straight line as you looked at her. “Who’s always been my mom, anyway.”

“Don’t be so down, honey. I’m sure there’s a special boy who’s willing to pay for your basket.”

“That’s not—”

“I heard the new boy in your school started working in the grocery store a few weeks ago. Maybe he had some paychecks to spare.”

You snorted at her words. “Ms. Patty, c’mon.”

She had a proud expression as she finally took off, leaving you by yourself at the studio. “See you tomorrow, honey.” You waved goodbye as she left. She was truly an unpredictable woman—you would be lying if you said you didn’t wish to have at least a quarter of her confidence.

You knew of this ‘new boy’ she was talking about. Stars Hallow High School was not big enough for mystery; everyone knows each other if not by name, face, or by being their parents’ friend’s kid. Dean Forester joined a month into the semester, and you were surprised he wasn’t as popular as you expected him to be. But, at the same time, if it weren’t your shared classes with him, you barely saw the boy outside the building.

Lane, one of your childhood friends, was particularly fond of Dean’s friend, Todd. There were moments where you wished you could join on in your friend’s excitement, but—as Lane had commented several times—you were too busy making money to even notice the boys around you. But one single afternoon in between classes, you caught yourself staring far too intensely at Dean when he passed by the hallway when he suddenly met your eyes. You couldn’t recall what you did when it happened, just that it resulted in a startled Lane and a booming sound of your locker closing.

Have you been purposely avoiding him ever since? Yes. It’s not like the two of you talked anyway. Though it didn’t help when you began noticing him in Doose’s market more often than you liked.

You sighed, shaking your head at the one-sided chaos you’ve managed to create in the midst of the boy’s arrival. You weren’t exactly “boy crazy” as Lane’s mom would call the girls in your school, but you’re literally just a girl.

“God forbid I find a guy attractive.” You mumbled to yourself as you began to close the doors of Ms. Patty’s studio. The children had ballet today, so there were twice the amount of tutus inside; an array of pinks, blues, and whites decorated the wooden floors.

As you cleaned up the rest of the clutter, closing boxes and stacking them in the same way you saw them last night, you noticed one particular box was by the door, the heaviest one.

Inside were miscellaneous items (you’re sure some of them were lost as well) and you’ve experienced several aging moments after carrying them all the way to where they should be in the studio—the opposite side of the room.

You stifled a sigh, rolling up the sleeves of your sweater as you crouched down. Whatever was inside the box, new or not, doubled the weight you carried yesterday, and you prayed this wouldn’t be the reason you’ll hurt your back.

Just as you were about to put your hands on the bottom of the box, you heard footsteps on the wooden stairs; one of the hinges on the doors creaked. You had no time to look up and see who it was before you heard the unfamiliar voice.

“Need any help?” Without warning, a face you’ve been dreading to see came into view. His hair fell on both sides of his head as he lowered himself in front of you and the large box.

Dean grinned, his pearly whites showing themselves, and God, why did he have such eye-catching dimples?

You were sure something in your head was short-circuited because of how much you stumbled on your reply. “I- yes, I guess, if you want to- it’s totally up to you, if you want… to help.”

He chuckled at your response, and you can’t really blame him for that, but you decided to ignore the gnawing embarrassment you felt as you laughed along with him. It was the first you’ve ever heard his laugh—his voice in general, actually—and somehow, with your logic, you thought it fitted him perfectly.

You saw his arm move around behind the box in between the two of you, as if looking for something underneath. Dean still had a smile on his face as he readjusted himself on the floor, mimicking your crouched position. It took you by surprise to feel his hand on yours, and you had to fight back the urge to flinch.

“Here, take both of your hands under these corners, and I’ll take the opposite,” Dean instructed, moving your hands into position. You brushed off the thought of how his hands consumed yours. “then we’ll stand up on three.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the box shift as he adjusted his grip. “One… two… three.” The two of you rose together, the box hovering between you, expectedly heavy but manageable as you moved in sync.

The two of you placed the box on the ground with a huff. You had to stretch your back as you stood up. Dean was doing the same thing, though his expression seemingly filled with amusement. He doesn’t say anything and you raised an eyebrow at this.

“What?” You said, pulling down your sleeves.

Dean shook his head. “It’s nothing. I, um, wasn’t expecting to see you here. Do you work for Ms. Patty?”

You caught the way he changed the subject, but decided to leave it alone for now. “Aren’t we all?”

This caused a chuckle from him as he scratched the back of his neck. “That’s true. I still haven’t thanked her for getting me a job at Doose’s.”

Dean followed you around the studio as you continued to pick up props and tutus off of the floor. He would grab what looked out of place and parroted where you’d place them. You didn’t protest at his presence—as much as you wanted to for the sake of your own mental health—and allowed him to help along. Besides, you didn’t have the heart to kick him out, and while your brain protested, your heart wasn’t exactly against Dean.

“The best thank you you could give her is probably keeping the job she gave you,” you joked and followed up with, “and bid on her basket.”

As you chucked the last baton inside with the others, you turned around and almost bumped into Dean with how close he was.

“Wish I could, but I was told to go do a quick morning shift just in case people would do their last minute baking.” He tilted his head slightly, his voice filled with humor.

“Sounds great. Let me know if you need a morning boost; I’ll be at Luke’s serving the best coffee around.”

Dean nodded, a grin making its way to his face, and said, “I’ll make sure to visit.” There was a few seconds of silence before he picked up his eyes to look at you. “You’re not going to do a basket?”

“No, not this year. Life’s been busting my tail lately, so I don’t really have the time.” You shrugged, putting your hands behind your back as you awkwardly leaned against one of the wooden boxes.

“That’s a shame,” Dean replied, walking over to your side to rest his back on one of the boxes as well. Your shoulders touched—specifically your shoulder against the side of his upper arm—and it all dawned on you at how tall he was.

You turned your head to look at him, failing to hide your surprise when he was already looking over at you.

“A shame? How so?”

“I’d bid the highest, for sure. Just hanging out with your famous cupcakes Lane talked about.”

You’ve recalled several instances in your life when you were physically stunned at a person, but none of them could compare to what’s happening. Dean’s eyes were still on you, waiting for a reaction, a response, literally anything, and yet you just stood there like a flustered child receiving your first love letter.

It’s a lot more important to remember that you’ve never spoken to this boy before. You knew one day your worlds would collide eventually in the small town of Stars Hollow, but you’ve never realized it was happening right under your nose.

And since when Dean and Lane talked?

You and her were always attached to the hip, telling each other every single little detail about the in-between moment of the day when the two of you weren’t together. She’s never mentioned talking to Dean about you.

“You don’t need to spend money to hang out with me.” was the next best thing of a response you could think of. “I mean, you’re doing it right now.”

Dean chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“And if you wanted to try my cookies, try visiting Luke’s,” you added, having a little bit more confidence in your tone this time. “But you have to buy them at the exact time we opened; there’s a reason why Lane calls it famous.”

A grin was on your face as soon as you heard his laugh. Your previous panic seemed to die down as a calm silence washed over you two. The doors to the studio were still wide open, letting in the cold breeze of the night brush past you and Dean.

The sweater you wore didn’t help your spine from shivering. You wore whatever you saw first in your closet when Ms. Patty called, and you weren’t exactly planning to stay for this long.

The sound of rustling made you look over at Dean. “What are you doing?”

He took his leather jacket off of him, that boyish smile on his face again, as he placed it on your shoulder. “I heard it’s going to be especially cold tonight.”

You made no effort to protest as his hands gently tucked the jacket on your shoulders, brushing some of your hair on the back of your ears. The freezing temperature inside the studio only made the heat on your cheeks twice as noticeable.

Dean patted you down, in attempt to warm you up, before retracting his hands to his side. “Better?”

You snuggled further into the leather jacket, taking in the familiar musk you’ve been smelling since the boy got here. “Yeah. Thank you, Dean.”

Maybe skipping one shift at Luke’s wouldn’t hurt.

[strawbeerossi]

Let Me Hear You

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Unit Chief!Spencer Reid

Description: You and Spencer pull an all nighter to get caught up on paperwork. However whenever you decide to break to eat, you find yourself with some free time before the food gets there.

Content/Warnings: Talking about sex, food mentions and being hungry, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 1.1K

Kinktober Day Twenty Five: Sound Kink

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

One thing you learned about Spencer was that he liked to let the world know what was his. For instance, he was proud for everyone to know he was the newest acting unit chief after Emily passed the baton so she could be the first female director of the FBI. It was a big achievement for him after spending years dedicating his time to his career. Another thing he liked to tell the world was about his academic career, all his PHDs and academic excellency being a proud achievement he was happy to let everyone hear about.

He wore these achievements like a badge of honor. Anyone in his shoes would. His personal life was more quiet, although one part of it was something he was far too proud to show off. You. You’d begun dating while you worked in a separate sector of the FBI, your transfer being about a year after you both started seeing each other. You enjoyed having a man as strong as him as well as a job where you did important things.

You’d currently been pulling an all nighter at the office, catching up with the shocking amount of paperwork you let pile on your desk. Spencer had planned on staying as well, so it worked out a lot better than you’d expected. You were both sitting in his office, the both of you having coffees filled to the brim for the night ahead. “You can summarize things, you know.” Spencer had commented with a chuckle, eyes looking over the huge statement you were writing. “This is a summary. Oh, my god. Is it too long?!” You asked while lifting your head to face your boyfriend, who chuckled. “No! I was just letting you know, that's all.”

As the paperwork dragged on, Spencer was eventually closing the file in his hand. “What do you say we take a break? I think we’ve earned it.” Which you didn’t object, your eyes crossed from all the reading and writing you’d been doing. As you placed the completed files to the side, you leaned against your boyfriend’s desk. “Should we order from that all night burger place in town? I’m pretty sure they deliver.” You inferred while Spencer was tapping his pen against the desk. “Yeah, let’s go ahead and order from there tonight. Seems easy and quick enough.” He chuckled. Which was exactly what you both did. After calling in your orders and confirming they did deliveries, it was a waiting game now.

“I know something that’ll pass the time.” Your boyfriend teased, eyebrows wiggling while you laughed and rolled your eyes with a smile. “Is sex on your mind all the time?” You asked in a teasing tone while he put his hands up in self defense. “Look at my girlfriend. Any guy would be lucky enough to be able to put their hands on you.” He was pushing himself to stand while offering a hand in your direction, tugging you up and to his chest when you took it. “Besides, don’t act like you aren’t jumping on me any chance you get.” He wiggled his eyebrows with a laugh, head dipping down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

The sweetness eventually escalated though, your bodies pressed flush against one another as your kiss had deepened. You were backing up with Spencer’s assistance before your body was hitting the couch towards the left side of the office. With both of you giggling due to your eagerness causing you to fall back, your head was lifting as you could feel his hands moving to bunch up the skirt you were wearing. “We don’t have much time.” He murmured, which you nodded as you were pushing your panties to the side as Spencer pulled his cock from his slacks.

After giving a few lazy tugs, the thick head of his shaft was plunging into your hot, leaking cunt. Your hands were quick to grasp at his shoulders. “Fuck.” You hissed, biting your lower lip as his hips were snapping into yours. You were making an effort to keep it down, already knowing there were cleaning crews as well as other agents working late on the floor. Last thing you needed was to alert everyone.

However Spencer seemed to realize, his hands squeezing your hips as his head was dipping in order for him to whisper in your ear. “Let everyone know who’s making you feel good in here. I wanna get complaints.” He murmured against your ear, a moan tumbling out of your mouth at the request. “Tell the office that you liked getting fucked by your unit chief like the whore you are.” The words had your hands clutching his shoulders tighter as you were letting your head tilt back. His hand had slid down your body, thumb rubbing at your clit before he was pinching it between his fingers to elicit a cry from you, knowing exactly how to get you crying and moaning loud enough for every floor to hear.

“That’s right. Fuck. Take my cock so well. I know you love it when I pound your sweet pussy.” He hummed in her ear. “Bet you want me to fill you up too. Don’t you?” The words were enough to help drive you both closer to the edge, your eyes falling shut as the moans and whines just fell from your lips. Once the filter was taken away, you made it known that you were getting fucked in the office. As you’d both approached your orgasms, Spencer had managed to get rougher on you.

With his grip tightening on your hips, he’d let himself go overboard as he was jackhammering against the spongy button that he’d been prodding within the past few minutes.

The force had a fire spreading all throughout your body, louder moans and pleas for him not to stop now filling the once quiet and peaceful office space. As you were being fucked into oblivion, it wasn’t long until your cunt was clenching tightly around his cock, sucking him in as best as you could as your orgasm was making you see stars. Your body jolted with a few more rough thrusts before you could feel a warmth gushing inside of you, chest rising and falling rapidly as you were clutching your boyfriend tighter.

However it wasn’t long until you’d gotten a text, Spencer being the one to gently pull out of you before approaching the desk. “The food is here. Why don’t you lay here and relax? I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah.. Might be best..” you commented, face flushed as you were pulling your panties back into place and smoothing out your skirt.

“I’m starving anyway.” You laughed.

[delzinrowe]

Love Letter - TAKUMA INO

WORD COUNT: ~5.1K WARNINGS: None. F!Reader SUMMARY: Y/N receives a love letter, sadly the sender wasn't very specific when he signed it. A/N: Silly little brainrot I had months ago. Took me ages to actually finish this. Feedback is always appreciated!! Let me know if you wanna be tagged. TAGGING @just-jordie-things CAUSE I GOT BACK INTO WRITING BECAUSE OF HER, SHE'S AMAZING ♡♡♡

Another day filled with lessons of an unusual kind passed by. Gojo-Sensei was a good and devoted teacher, but everyone agreed that his teaching methods sometimes were a little… unorthodox, for lack of a better word. He tends to throw students into dangerous situations to fend for themselves instead of preparing them for it beforehand.

Y/N was just happy that she had her student days behind her. Now she was a semi-grade 1 sorcerer. After graduating from Jujutsu High she slowly but surely worked her way up the ranks and earned the respect of her fellow sorcerers, one of which was Ino Takuma, who seemed to be just as impressed by her as he was by his mentor Nanami Kento.

Whenever she wasn’t on a mission Y/N used the time to train, either by herself, with Takuma or with some of the younger students. Which was exactly what happened right now. For the past hours she had exchanged blows with each of them, successfully winning every fight. Until Maki decided to challenge her. Without any ounce of cursed energy she was supposed to be an easy target, but exactly this made her all the more dangerous in close range.

She stood opposite of Maki, wearing a smile on her lips and chuckling a little. Even after losing their training fight there was not an ounce of bitterness within her. Maki was an astonishing fighter, she was more skilled and talented in hand-to-hand combat than any of the other students.

Due to her lack of cursed energy she focused entirely on close range combat, allowing her to win the fight swiftly. No doubt that Yuji would still smoke her in terms of raw strength, but Maki was no way inferior to any of them.

“You’re gonna raise hell some day, Maki.” Y/N never made a secret out of her adoration and pride for the young ostracized Zenin. If it had been anyone else Maki would have rolled her eyes and shrugged off the praising compliment, but Y/N was one of the few people she held in high regards, therefore her words meant a lot to the second year student.

Knowing that someone as strong as Y/N acknowledged her strength and even believed in her so strongly meant a lot to her, even if she would rather die a gruesome death than ever admit this to anyone.

“I’m working on it.”

Maki’s witty comeback earned another chuckle from Y/N. Truth be told, she was immensely proud of the young student. When she herself enrolled into Jujutsu High she was surrounded by all these amazing young sorcerers and even her teachers were fascinatingly strong. It often caused her to feel left out, as if she was merely a candle in the wind with everyone around her being raging wildfires, rapidly increasing with each passing day.

Back then Takuma was the only person who showed her acknowledgement, who openly told her that he believed she’d be destined for amazing and great things. Thinking back on it now, it might have been this exact moment her crush developed. She wanted to prove him right, that she was capable of whatever life as sorcerer threw at her.

Ultimately, she knew the pain of being left out, of not being believed in, of feeling far too weak. She wouldn’t allow anyone to feel like that, especially not someone like Maki, who was so willing and determined to prove herself.

Y/N only responded with a nod and a smile before turning around to gather her things. All too suddenly she halted her movements, her eyes squinting at the piece of white paper she spotted on the dark piece of clothing.

Right there, at the edge of the training grounds, in her lazily discarded jacket, stuck a letter, folded into a tiny rectangle. It certainly wasn’t there before. She would have remembered anyone messing with her clothes during the training. Whoever it was must have used the chance to leave the paper when she had her back turned. Or maybe when Maki successfully threw her onto her back…

However, that didn’t matter now, what mattered most to Y/N in this instant was the tiny rectangle. 

Curiously, and with careful touches, she reached for the paper and slowly unfolded it. Her eyes scanned over the lines written on it. The first thing she noticed was the handwriting itself. It wasn’t neat, but it was far from messy. It seemed almost as if someone tried to conceal their handwriting. Something else she noticed was that it was a blank paper, no lines or squares, yet the short sentences made it seem as if there had been invisible lines.

Whoever wrote this note went through the trouble of using an undersheet to keep the perfect lines intact. The level of detail for one simple note was astonishing. 

It took Y/N a few good moments of skimping over the words before she even realized what the letter said.

It was… a love letter.

Never in her life did Y/N think she’d receive one of those, let alone an anonymous one, only signed with initials, but there’s got to be a first time for everything, right?

Her gaze was fixated on the paper, as if it put a spell on her. The few lines were filled with sweet adoration, even bringing a smile to her lips until her eyes found the initials T.I..

Y/N still stood in the middle of the training grounds but she suddenly didn’t notice anything around her anymore. Her thoughts were now fully engulfed by the two letters that sent her mind into a haze. Who the hell was T.I.?

Bombs and missiles could have detonated right in front of her, nonetheless, nothing would have managed to tear her attention away from her thoughts going on a rampage.

Seconds passed, turning into minutes as Y/N kept on thinking about the initials but she couldn’t come up with anything. Even if she turned the letters around no one came to her mind. No one seemed to fit, until a certain image popped up in her thoughts. And suddenly the need for a written letter made much more sense to her.

<--With a suspicion now in mind, she set out to find her best friend, hoping to get a different perspective on the entire matter. Maybe he’d even have some advice ready for her to handle this entire situation. It surely would help her to at least get a male opinion on this. That is… if her best friend Takuma would even have an opinion on it at all. -->

“Do you have any idea who T.I. could be?” 

Immediately after finding Takuma she spilled everything about the letter she received. It took him a good few minutes to get her to slow down but once he realized what she was on about his lips curled into a little smile, not too big to get caught but just enough to seem like his usual self. Even if he was a nervous bundle of anxiety inside.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it, ‘Kuma?” This was it. The moment he was waiting for.

He was the one who left the letter in her jacket during training. She’d confront him and after hearing his cheesy confession she’d admit to always having had a crush on him as well, and the two would kiss and be the dream couple everyone would envy.

…At least that’s how he pictured it in his head.

“It must be Toge Inumaki. I can’t think of anyone else, to be honest.” Y/N crossed her arms in front of her chest, the letter still clutched in between her thumb and her fingers, as she gave an expectant look towards her friend, not knowing that his heart secretly deflated at her words.

Takuma tried his hardest not to show his thoughts all too clearly on his face. Usually, he was the personification of bubbly, open and unfiltered, blurting out the first things on his mind without really thinking of his words first. But this time he had to bite his own tongue to stop himself from speaking too quickly. 

Why did she not realize that it was him who wrote that note? Then again, why did he have to sign it with his initials only? Was he really that stupid? Of course, there were other people with the same initials as him, he should have thought of this beforehand.

Or perhaps the fact that she instantly assumed it to be someone else meant that maybe she wanted it to be someone else? Did she believe Toge wrote the note because she wished that it was from him? Had her heart already been snatched by someone?

The possibility of it felt like a gut punch to Takuma. A few minutes ago he felt happy, expecting this moment to turn into the sweetest one of his life. However, by now his chest felt tightened, as if someone had reached down his throat and crushed his heart with bare hands, while simultaneously smacking the air out of his lungs.

This had got to be one of the worst moments of his life. He got rejected, indirectly at least, and in one of the worst ways too.

“If you think it’s him, then ask him about it.” The words were followed by a shrug of his shoulders, he tried so desperately to seem indifferent enough towards this. Of course, he didn’t want her to think that this entire topic didn’t matter to him, it did. More than she even knew. But she was smart and if he acted out of character now then she’d be onto him instantly. 

Y/N let out a deep sigh, uncrossing her arms and letting them drop to her sides. As calm as she seemed, her mind was a mess. Why did she have to receive a letter like this? Anonymous with only initials to make her guess.

“Yeah sure, and what do I even say to him?” She asked with a hint of hopelessness, shrugging her shoulders lightly.

“That depends on whether you like him or not.” Takuma kept his posture, speaking in a tone that was usual for him. Or wasn’t it? He tried way too hard to appear like his normal self that he started to overthink his actions, words and even the tone he used. Did he talk like this any other day?

“I guess so.” Her response, paired with the deep sigh she let out and her sinking shoulders were a clear sign of defeat. She didn’t seem suspicious of him. Good, he had played his role well. Now he just needed to keep it up a little longer.

Eventually Y/N’s chat with her best friend offered no real help or conclusion, besides the obvious ‘talk to him directly. It was a piece of advice she didn’t need, considering it was apparent inside her own mind ever since she successfully deciphered the sender of the note.

She dreaded the encounter with Toge. She didn’t want to break the young student’s heart. Why did it have to be so uncomfortable and painful when friends caught feelings? How she wished for the ground to simply swallow her whole right at this moment.

Alas, there was no way around it. No matter how much Y/N tried to think of a different solution, she had to be direct and honest with Toge. He deserved that much.

Seconds passed and neither Takuma nor Y/N said anything. For Takuma the heavy tension in the air seemed almost unbearable. His heart threatened to burst out of his chest, wanting so desperately to confess to being the real author of the note. But he figuratively bit his own tongue to stay silent. It felt obvious enough to him that she wasn’t reciprocating his feelings.

On the other hand, Y/N felt a thick tension for different reasons. She dreaded the encounter with Toge, no matter how much she knew that it was necessary to clear the air. A feeling of unease and anxiety spread through her stomach and she took a few deep breaths, releasing the last one as a deep sigh.

“I should talk to him right now.” For a moment she glanced at Takuma before her gaze shifted towards the letter she still held tightly. There was nothing else to say or do, anything she’d come up with now would only prolong the much needed conversation.

“Good luck.” Takuma’s short nod was met with a grimace from Y/N, followed by quiet short noise that could only be described as a whine.

Just for a fraction of a moment he forgot the aching pain in his chest. Goddamn, why did she look so cute right now? It took all his willpower to keep his mouth shut when inside him everything was screaming at him to just be honest.

“Thanks.”

Without any further ado she turned on her heel. Even if she didn’t know where to find Toge, she was sure that eventually she’d run into him. Maybe she could think of the right things to say until then.

Takuma’s gaze followed her until she was out of sight. The second grace sorcerer wasn’t a coward or shy by any means, he was brave and courageous. So why couldn’t he just walk up to her and confess, like he had thought about so many times? Why did he settle to write a letter and leave it in her jacket like some clumsy lovesick teenager?

In an instant he froze in place, his eyes wide in shock as the realization hit him like a jolt of electricity. As soon as Y/N confronted Toge she’d find out that the letter wasn’t actually  from him. His heart had started pounding and he felt paralyzed when he realized the extensive consequences of her finding out. Their entire friendship would shift and become awkward. In the worst case it might even end he’d lose his best friend.

He had to follow Y/N and ‘accidentally’ interrupt her encounter with Toge before the blonde student could expose his secret crush on his best friend.

For an experienced high grade sorcerer Y/N was far too immersed in her thoughts to realize that for the past half hour she had been followed by Takuma. He didn’t even have to use any cursed energy to be as stealthy as possible. She was too occupied with her search for the blonde student to notice him either way.

Well, she didn’t actively search for Toge, no. She dreaded this upcoming conversation more than anything else. Instead, she simply wandered around the school grounds as casually as she could. Eventually she’d find him, wouldn’t she?

She had already given up on thinking of what to say, nothing seemed good or fitting. With a nervous feeling in her gut she decided to just wing it and come up with anything she’d say on the spot.

Just when Y/N was about to call it quits and chicken out of this entire situation she saw Toge walking a little bit further away from her current position. After suppressing another unmotivated whine she took deep breaths to calm her nerves before approaching him.

“Hey, Toge!” She tried not to sound too loud with her yell as she ran up to the blonde student, who turned around towards her and greeted her with a hand sign, as per usual paired with a quiet: “Kelp.”

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” Y/N’s head was tilted a little and a somewhat awkward smile appeared on her face. Damnit. She tried so hard to act normal but she had only ever been in this situation two or three times before. Rejecting someone was hard on its own, but even worse when it was a good friend. How would she even start?

Instead of saying any of his safe words Toge opted to not say anything as he only raised his eyebrows. A silent sign that she had his attention and a gesture for her to keep talking.

“The letter you sent me… it was really nice, but…” As much as Y/N tried to find the right words, it resulted in her sounding uncertain. Hopefully this wouldn’t cause their friendship to get awkward.

The more she tried to construct a coherent sentence, the less she was actually able to speak properly. The nervousness that surged through her body felt almost paralyzing, even more so than the uncomfortable silence that hung between them. But she had to say something. She couldn’t give Toge any false hope. He didn’t deserve that.

“I don’t like you like that, I’m sorry.”

If Y/N had the courage to look up right now she would have seen the confused expression on Toge’s face as he tried desperately to make sense of this whole situation. However, her gaze was just about anywhere else, focusing on invisible dots, as to not look at him directly.

He wasn’t entirely sure what she meant, but with the limited vocabulary available to him he decided to simply agree with it and call it a day. Whatever this was about would surely resolve on its own. For him there was no need to stress about something he didn’t fully grasp either way.

“Salmon.” With that Toge nodded his head, conveying his understanding, even if it was merely an act.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, and I hope we can stay friends.” Even though Y/N harbored no romantic feelings for the short blonde student, rejecting a friend was always a gut-wrenching experience. It was something she hated, even if it had thankfully only happened very few times. The anguish of having to turn down someone she was close with always hung above the friendship, similar to the damning dropping chandelier in Phantom of the Opera. At one point it might crash and reduce the remaining friendship to rubble and dust.

Although this didn’t seem to be the case with Toge, he took the rejection like a champ. If Y/N hadn’t been too overwhelmed by this situation she might have realized that Toge even seemed a little too chill about getting rejected. But her mind was elsewhere, involuntarily drifting to the young sorcerer who was now hiding behind a wall, listening in on their conversation.

Toge hadn’t exposed him, he took the rejection and went with it. Yet, for some reason it caused Takuma to feel twisted. Y/N didn’t even think of him when she received the letter, and now she had officially rejected ‘T.I.’, which made it practically impossible to send her another note. He should have just gathered his courage and confessed when he had the chance.

“Salmon Roe.” Two words was enough to pull Y/N and Takuma out of their thoughts and bring them back to the present. She only nodded in an effort to ease the awkward tension between them, even if she was the only one that felt it.

Toge pointed towards his dorm rooms, not even attempting to say anything else before lifting his hand in the air to wave goodbye as he left Y/N on her own. Her thoughts were racing and her heart pounded in her chest. The conversation had gone smooth (more or less) and Toge took the rejection well. Hopefully this wouldn’t have any awkward consequences in their friendship. 

Meanwhile Takuma leaned against the wall he was hiding behind, nervousness filling his stomach. He should get out of here, leave before she noticed that he had followed her.

His palms were sweaty, his heart beating so fast and hard that it threatened to burst out of his chest. His head leaned against the surface of the concrete as his eyes were closed. If he already felt like this when he was just hiding behind a wall then how was he ever gonna face her and confess? He, the usually cool, calm and collected auspicious beasts’ user, was undoubtedly a coward. 

“‘Kuma?” Y/N’s voice rang in his ears, instantly his eyes widened. Instantly he cursed himself for not disappearing sooner. Now it was too late for that, if he attempted to leave now she’d just follow and question him.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was, understandably, laced with confusion. Had he listened to the entire conversation she had with Toge? Why would he even care about it?

“Hey.” It was the most awkward and stupidest he had ever sounded as he dragged out the one word greeting. He wanted to disappear right now, vanish into thin air never to be seen again.

When he didn’t say anything she lifted her head forward just a bit and raised her eyebrows expectantly, urging him to continue with her sharp gaze. Oh, how he scolded himself internally at this very moment.

“I’m just here for emotional support…” The way the words came out of his mouth seemed more like a question instead of an answer to her initial inquiry.  If there was ever an award for the worst lie, Takuma would receive it without any close competition. Even without this dead giveaway Y/N would have known that something was foul.

“Would you just spit it out?” Gone was the nervousness she felt just moments ago during her conversation with Toge. Now she was aggravated and irritated at his unusual behavior. It must have been connected to the love note, but she couldn’t come up with any reason why.

As Y/N was still waiting for his response, Takuma felt the sinking realization that he wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation without coming clean about the love letter. The weight on his chest grew heavier, his heart pounded louder, the beating rang in his ears. He wiped his hands on his pants, rather pathetically as they kept on sweating. Had he ever been this fucking nervous prior to this moment? He couldn’t remember.

Even after facing curse users, as well as encountering and successfully exorcizing countless curses, and finding himself in the most dangerous situations, he couldn’t remember ever feeling this uneasy in his entire life.

The silence between them remained for what felt like an eternity, but actually had only been about two minutes. Y/N knew that he heard her question loud and clear, there was no need to repeat it. Especially considering how nervous he appeared. Something was definitely wrong, but no matter how irritated or aggravated she was with him, she’d never pressure him. That simply wasn’t how their friendship worked.

Seconds felt like hours for Takuma but he knew he had to say something, and eventually, after taking multiple deep breaths, he finally overcame his uneasiness and forced himself to speak up.

“I’m T.I.”, as little as his words seemed, it had taken him immense courage to say them out loud.

“The letter… it’s from me.”

Y/N simply stared at him as he dropped this bomb of information on her. The thought of “T.I.” actually standing for Takuma Ino had never seriously crossed her mind. Even if for a split second she might have hoped for it, she had immediately dismissed it.

For as long as she had been friends with him he was never the type to write letters, especially love letters. She had known him long enough to learn his character inside out. He was blunt, but not brutal, open and unfiltered but never hostile. In short; he wasn’t someone who would hide behind an anonymous letter.

Or so she thought at least, which caused her thoughts to go into overdrive.

“You wrote that? Why? Did you think it’d be a funny joke? Is that why you didn’t say anything before and just let me make a fool out of myself in front of Toge?” Y/N asked suddenly, completely overwhelmed with this situation and clearly overthinking it.

Takuma knew that tone all too well, he was the one to calm her down more than just a few times, and while he was still nervous about this whole ordeal, he couldn’t watch how she doubted herself so much that she didn’t take his love letter seriously.

“No, it wasn’t a joke. Listen…”, for a moment he paused, his might searching for words as she took a step forward to her. He let out a deep sigh before he spoke up once more.

“I like you. Like… a whole lot. I’ve pretty much had a crush on you since forever. I don’t know what made me write a damn letter. I guess I was too much of a coward to tell you face to face.” Even though he had taken a step forward, he couldn’t look into her eyes. His averted gaze focused on an invisible point a few feet away.

“It’s not a joke, alright? I’m serious.” His heart hammered against his ribcage. This was the moment he didn’t want to experience.

Y/N was far too shocked to construct a proper sentence, the confession had taken her by full surprise. Neither of them dared to say anything but as the moments passed her lips curled into a smile that she tried to suppress. It was slowly setting in that this wasn’t a joke or a prank. Takuma seemed to be genuinely nervous, even anxious. Something she wasn’t used to seeing.

Furthermore, she had known him for quite some time and while he was a bit of a goof who liked to pull pranks, he never would have gone for something that could end up emotionally scarring someone.

Her heart went from racing twice as fast to skipping a beat all the way to pounding heavily inside her chest. It felt as if a fuzzy blanket was wrapped around her, the realization that the boy she had a crush on liked her back.

“And you’re really really serious?” She questioned quietly, her voice now lacking the previous panicky tone.

“More than anything.”

When he finally lifted his head again Takuma saw the smile on her lips. It was like a drug to him, instantly he returned it with a smile on his own, the uneasiness fading away and being replaced by a warm feeling that spread through his limbs.

“Good, cause I like you too.”

“You really do?” His mind struggled to believe that it was real, but the way she smiled shyly with this faint blush on her cheeks was all the proof he needed. And suddenly he’s floating from happiness.

Suddenly the anxiety he felt died down, and all the uneasiness disappeared from his body.

Y/N had no time to brace herself when all of a sudden his arms wrapped tightly around her frame, pulling her right into his warm chest. The closeness, paired with his familiar scent, felt like a dream to her.

Takuma didn’t need to say it, it was obvious that he was happier than ever about this development, but so was Y/N.

The two of them didn’t know how much time passed, could have been an hour, could have been an eternity. In reality it was closer to a few minutes, when he eventually loosened his hold and leaned back just enough to look at her. 

Y/N could have sworn she just fell much deeper for him when she saw his unusually flushed face. A sign so beautiful and handsome that she never wanted to look away. It was a sight she didn’t expect, and certainly something she never knew she needed to see until now.

“So… Can I kiss you?” Takuma asked, and Y/N swore he was still nervous, which caused her chest to feel even warmer. It was unlike him to not ooze confidence with every fiber of his being, however, knowing that she had this effect on him, even after both of them confessing, filled her with pride.

“I don’t know if you can, but you should.” She responded with a smirk, albeit with her cheeks so heated that she felt like a radiator. The chuckle that followed her words was cut short when his lips captured her own. Her giggle died down when she practically melted into the kiss.

It was a little messy and chaotic, but eventually they fell into a rhythm that felt just right in every way.

Her hands, which were still wrapped around his torso from their hug, grabbed his sweater tightly. Meanwhile her thoughts dissipated, leaving nothing else but the blissful happiness, and the fluttering butterflies in her stomach.

Everything was drowned out until a few seconds later when Takuma pulled away. As if she was magnetized by him she tried to follow his lips, leaning further into him just a few inches before regaining her composure. She opened her eyes but didn’t look at him right away. It was such a silly thing that she felt embarrassed for not wanting the kiss to end but at the same time she knew that from now on she could have kisses anytime she asked.

Her hands slowly let go of his sweater. A wave of uncertainty hit her but it was gone as quick as it arrived once she felt him reach for her wrist.

His hand found hers, and their fingers interlaced. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how natural and easy everything felt with him. Her heart might have raced like a sports car and rang in her ears like church bells but being with Takuma like this felt more natural and comfortable than she had ever imagined.

For a while it was quiet as the two of them simply started strolling around aimlessly on the school grounds. But there was one thing Y/N still wanted to address…

“You couldn’t come up with a better way to sign it then T.I.?”

“To be fair I didn’t think your first thought would be Riceball Guy.” He mumbled back and rolled his eyes, listening as her giggles turned into a short but warm laugh.

His eyes were glued to her, the corners of his lips subconsciously curling into the happiest grin he could possibly create.

They had no label yet but she was his girl, there was no doubt in his mind about it. She was hers even before he had even known it. And there was no way in hell that he’d ever let go of her.

[peaches2217]

Summer Rain

AO3 link!

~~~

There’s nothing quite like falling ten feet to the ground and landing flat on one’s back to bring a person back into reality. When he came to, Mario’s first reaction was relief. Rest, finally. Everything burned. His throat, his lungs, his muscles, his stomach. His ears rang and his head spun and his vision created doubles of every last block and obstacle overhead, and at long last, he was free to simply lay in the grass and observe passively.

As with all good things, it didn't last.

Get up.

The all-too-familiar voice, maybe his own and maybe some divine call from the universe, repeated these words in his head, but he couldn’t make his muscles obey. He could hardly breathe; air returned to him in unsteady gasps, and with each one, his short-lived relief melted further and further into frustration.

Get up. Something gurgled in his throat that was neither air nor bile, and the taste of copper coated his tongue. Get up. How had he slipped? He’d run this training gauntlet hundreds of times, if not thousands, in the past weeks. Had he grown complacent? Get up. This was no time for complacency. No time for failure. Get up, get up, get up.

“Mario!” He registered the cry of his name the same way he registered the pain in his spine or the ache in his limbs or the muted yet near-constant growling of his gut: with little more than passing acknowledgement. He knew he was hurt. He knew he was hungry. He knew someone was calling out to him. He didn’t care. His only concern was get up, get up, get up, sit up, stand up, get back to training.

Get back to her.

“Mario?”

Just as soon as he’d pulled himself to his knees, dizziness overtook Mario, and he barely caught himself on his hands, his arms shaking from the effort to support his weight. Her voice. All it took was the ghost of her voice to sap his fight, drain the furor that fueled him, until he was empty, empty, empty.

She wasn’t— he knew she wasn’t— and yet she— she sounded so near—

“Oh, Mario,” Peach sighed, pressing a gloved hand to her cheek, “what am I going to do? If I have to sit through one more unproductive commission on import tax rates, I think I’m going to scream.”

Mario chuckled sympathetically. “So I’m guessing third time wasn’t the charm after all?”

“I thought surely the senators would be just as sick of all the arguing as I am by now. Sadly, I’m fairly certain they enjoy it.” Another sigh. “So a fourth commission has been scheduled for Thursday.”

Thursday. Mario wracked his head for upcoming happenings, possible excuses, any circumstance he could twist in her favor, and he found it in short order.

“Hmm… it sure is a shame you won’t be there for that meeting, Princess.”

Peach halted in her tracks, and Mario stopped alongside her, meeting her confusion with pointed nonchalance.

“I… won’t be?”

“You didn’t forget, did you? That play in Mushroom City you were invited to? That’s Thursday night, yeah?”

Peach shook her head. “Mario, I’d hardly call a letter written in crayon by a child begging me to attend their Kindergarten theatre production an ‘invitation.’ More of a… um…” A pause. The realization clicked into place, her bright eyes glowing ever brighter in the twilight, and she graced Mario with a sly, cheerful smile. “Well, how many children have the courage to write to the castle directly? It would be rude to turn such a thoughtful invitation down.”

“My thoughts exactly!” He nudged her side, winking up at her. “Now, I know you’d rather sit and listen to grouchy old Toads shout over each other all day, but we all have to make sacrifices sometimes, yeah?”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.” A very un-regal giggle slipped her lips, juvenile in its conniving yet ethereal all the same, and Mario couldn’t help but feel especially proud of himself. “So we’ll meet at the carriage hold Thursday at dawn, then? Plenty enough time to escape before Toadsworth catches on.”

Her proposal didn’t surprise him; it had become customary, after all, to act as her guard any time she ventured beyond the palace walls. This made her invitation no less sacred to him. “You can count on me, Princess.”

Peach took a moment to breathe in the fresh spring evening, exhale her worries, and as their walk resumed, her hand found his, small and light but present and real and warm. “Oh, Mario,” she laughed, “you’re my hero!”

You’re my hero…

Another rush of oxygen hit his brain, and she was gone once more. Memories of golden hair in the waning light of sunset were washed out in smudges of green and brown and red — his fingers digging into the earth, damp from a recent summer rain, a trickle of blood dripping from his bottom lip onto the backs of his hands.

Some hero he was. 

A familiar pressure welled within his chest, and he huffed in relief. Anger. It made his heart pump harder and brought his surroundings back into focus and flooded him with unbearable energy, and he was finally able to clamor to his feet, spitting blood so he could breathe properly. Turning towards the gauntlet’s nearest springboard, he wiped his sleeve over his mouth and let that rage consume him once more, let himself believe again that it wasn’t rage at all, but hope. Hope in its rawest, most painful form.

She was counting on him. He would bring her home. He would have pleasant evening walks in the gardens with her again, he would laugh with her over tea and cakes, he would ensure no similar misfortune ever befell her again. Maybe he would even tell her that he loved her, just so he could say he no longer held any secrets from her. And until that day came, he would train and train and train until no force, earthly or cosmic, could stand in his way.

How could you let this happen?

That fragile illusion of hope burst into flames, its fire coursing through Mario’s veins, but now that he was on his feet again, he made no further effort to fool himself. With a final, sharp breath, he lunged forward—

“Basta così!”

Something caught his left wrist, and the unexpected intrusion snuffed Mario’s fire, like water tossed on a blazing bed of coals. He clenched his jaw and smoldered uselessly for a moment, quivering with unspent energy, giving his captor a chance to free him without provocation. The grasp ensnaring him only tightened.

“Lasciami andare, Lu.” He kept his voice as steady as possible, deathly quiet and low, because he knew it would shake if he raised it any louder, and he couldn’t afford to be perceived as weak.

“No.” Luigi’s voice was equally unwavering. “I’ve let this go on long enough. You’re coming home.”

Mario scoffed. Oh, now his timid little brother was choosing to stand his ground. Now, of all times, for all purposes—! He lurched forward to free himself. He didn’t have time for such games.

Luigi moved with him easily, and before Mario could reestablish his footing, he was yanked backwards by the arm so hard that his vision went blurry and his legs briefly gave out beneath him.

But he didn’t have time to collapse. Luigi powered ahead, and Mario was forced to twist his body in the same direction and stumble along behind him, and by the time his surroundings stopped shifting they were well past the athletic center’s gate and into the streets of Toad Town.

What in the Eight Realms was going on? His brother was strong, but he was stronger. It should have been easy to pull free or at least anchor himself and force an impasse, but he wouldn’t slow down.

“Let me go, Luigi,” he repeated in their mother tongue, half so the dozens of Toads craning their stubby necks as he was dragged past couldn’t eavesdrop and half because his grasp on the English language was one of the first things to go when he was upset. 

“You really think I’m that useless?” Luigi didn’t even look over his shoulder as he responded in the same tongue, yet his voice pierced through the ambiance of the streets. “I don’t need a missing friend and a dead brother.”

Another white-hot burst of fury flared within Mario, and he tried once again to break free (once again, to no avail). Useless? A “missing friend”? A princess — their Princess! — was abducted by a notoriously homicidal warlord who promised to kill her and seize her kingdom by force unless he was met with unconditional surrender, and all his brother cared about was how he was perceived? How these events affected him?

Mario was the only living person with any chance of bringing her home safely, or at least alive. He’d devoted himself to that cause wholeheartedly and without hesitation. Fought and trained and redefined himself over the past two months while waiting for royal spies to figure out where she was actually being held. He’d never thought Luigi to be so selfish, that he’d stand in his way. That he’d sooner trade Peach’s life for his. Did she really mean that little to him? The very thought nauseated him. Or maybe those were hunger pangs.

They arrived at their shared cottage in short order, and Mario spit one last mouthful of blood into the grass before he could be dragged onto the porch and through the door. This wasn’t just selfish. This was betrayal of the highest order. 

Luigi all but tossed him inside, and only then did he let go. Mario seethed at his green-and-blue-clad back as he shut and locked the door, rubbing his wrist absentmindedly, stimulating the once-restricted blood flow. Betrayed by the last person he would ever have suspected. The one person who should have been supporting him, who he’d thought already was supporting him before today. He held his internal fire close at bay, ready to make his disappointment and disapproval clear, and with a heavy sigh, Luigi turned to face him—

“This isn’t your fault, Mario.”

Mario’s belligerence fizzled out. Where there was once fire, there was now ice, still and cold.

“...What?”

“This isn’t your fault.” Luigi enunciated each word carefully as he approached his older brother. “N-no one blames you for this except for you. So you’re not proving anything to anyone by torturing yourself, bro, okay?”

For a long moment, all Mario could do was gape in bewilderment. Not once since the Princess’ abduction had a word been uttered about blame. There was no need, he'd just as quickly assumed: anyone with two functioning brain cells knew exactly who was to blame, and verbalizing accusations wouldn’t get her home any faster, so he bore his cross with a heavy heart and his head held high. 

Even Luigi had never spoken up on the matter. Mario just assumed that meant he agreed. Why bother kicking someone that’s already down?

“I-I…” Mario swallowed. No. No, he was lying. Reality was sinking in and he was lying in a last-ditch effort to defend what hadn’t already been lost. He knew just as well as Mario that… and yet he…

Selfish. Selfish, selfish, selfish.

“I’m her guard, Luigi,” he finally answered, and unpleasant but ever-familiar heat rose once more within him, making his face and ears tingle. “It’s my job to protect her! Literally my job!”

“Yeah, during the day! But you’re acting like she was nabbed under your watch! You’re acting like everyone expects you to be on guard twenty-four-seven!” He drew closer to lay a hand on Mario’s left shoulder; what should have been comfortable and familiar instead felt foreign and cumbersome. “The truth is, you were exactly where you were supposed to be when it happened: in bed, conked out.”

A strike of lightning couldn’t have hit as hard as those words.

Mario jerked away from his brother’s touch, nostrils flared, breath coming to him far too quickly now. If he grit his teeth any tighter, he was certain they’d crack. Yes, he’d been asleep that night. He’d protected his Princess like always during the day and left her to fend for herself at sundown and he’d never forgive himself for it. So much for not kicking someone while they’re down.

“Thanks,” he huffed. “Very helpful reminder.”

“Mario, that’s not what—” Luigi sagged backwards, his eyes rolling to the ceiling in exasperation, as if he was the one who’d been slighted, and he cursed beneath his breath before refocusing. “She was never your sole responsibility. Everyone knows that but you. And no one wants to see you run yourself into the ground like this. Th-they trust you! They love you! Seeing how much guilt you're drowning in, seeing how badly you’re hurting, that hurts them, and—”

A deep, shaking breath. Mario tapped his foot impatiently, his fists clenched.

“A-and it hurts me too!" Luigi finally confessed. "Mario, you’re not the only victim here! How do you think I’ve been handling all of this?”

“Forget about that!” Mario fired back. “Just imagine what she’s going through! Can you think about something other than yourself for once and look at the bigger picture?!”

Alarms sounded deep in the recesses of his brain, warning signals, crying a mantra of Too far, too far, too far. He didn’t care. He couldn’t afford to care.

“She wouldn’t want this either! If she was here—”

That was the final straw. Putting words in the Princess’ mouth— what little patience or composure Mario still held, already stretched thin, snapped. 

“Well she’s not!” He stamped his foot like a child throwing a tantrum, grasping Luigi’s arm and forcing him to look directly into his eyes. “Don’t— don’t you dare tell me what she’d say or what she’d do! You don’t have that right! Because you’re not her, and she’s not…”

Mario blinked. Had… had Luigi always looked this tired? His eyes, normally so cheerful and blue, appeared dull and gray, wide with regret and brimming with unshed tears. And there were bags under those eyes too, and overgrown flyaways poking through his normally well-groomed mustache, and…

“...here.” All of his bravado, all of his energy, left him as he whispered that final word.

How long had it been since he’d fulfilled his role as the older brother? Peach was Luigi’s friend too. He was every bit as much Mario's responsibility as Peach was.

“I don’t need a missing friend and a dead brother.”

Only in the ensuing stillness did Mario realize how terribly he shook. He felt both weightless and impossibly leaden, cold and clammy, trembling not in outrage or determination, but something far meeker, far more pathetic: fear.

He was no hero. He was an idiot who’d failed someone he claimed to love and was desperate to make things right, no matter the personal cost. He was a useless brother that dealt with his own inadequacies by lashing out at those who cared for him most. He was nothing.

“Weegee…”

Luigi swallowed, taking a deep, slow breath before responding. “Martyring yourself isn’t the answer. I mean, think for a minute here. You can’t save her if you get yourself killed first.”

It overtook Mario again, a wave of unwelcome emotion, and his knees wobbled beneath him, threatening to buckle.

“Then… then what do you suggest I do? Huh? Clearly you have more answers than I do! So tell me what to do!”  He let go of Luigi’s arms to grasp his overall straps and pull him down, searching his face for those fabled answers. There was no spite in his words or his actions. He shouted at and jostled his brother not in anger, but in pure helplessness. “Tell me what to do!”

The uncertainty etched into Luigi’s face didn’t go away completely, but he buried it beneath something harder, more determined. He braced his gloved hands against Mario’s shoulders, grounding and steady.

“I’ll tell you exactly what you’re going to do,” he said, his voice low yet firm. “You’re going to sit right there on that couch, or on the floor, or wherever you feel like, and you’re gonna cry and scream and get all of this pent-up anger out of your system. And then — look at me, Mario, listen!” He jostled the elder brother back, shaking his shoulders. “Then you’re going to eat something. Okay?” He smiled then, the strain of it contorting his face into some pitiful mimicry of humor. “We can’t have you wasting away when the Princess sees you again, yeah? What would she say?”

Mario’s breath hitched in his throat, suddenly swollen shut.

What would she say? Maybe she would rush forward and cup his cheeks, demanding to know what happened and if he was alright, as if he was the one who had been swept away in the dead of night. Maybe she would be so exhausted and so weakened that she didn’t notice; maybe she would only have the strength to smile as he took her battered body into his arms, her face pale but her eyes vibrant. Maybe her gaze would be glassy and there would be nothing left to hold but an empty shell that had once been his best friend, her fate sealed the moment she’d chosen to place her trust in him.

Or maybe he would die long before he reached her. If only he could trust anyone else to save her, he would have been perfectly fine with that outcome. It was the least he deserved. But that would be far too easy, wouldn’t it? What would become of her then? What would become of Luigi?

He would be free of his suffering, and it would fall directly onto their shoulders instead.

How could you let this happen?

The breath trapped in his throat forced its way back out, some mix between a cough and a hiccup, and finally his knees gave out. He held on tighter and sunk his face into his twin’s shirt collar, and he tried to apologize, he tried to beg forgiveness, but the only sound he could produce was a breathless, almost primal whine.

“Ecco.” Luigi’s voice cracked yet remained soft as he sank to the ground with him, cradling his head close. “Sfogati. Ti sono vicino, fratello.”

Mario’s intended response came out once more as a whine. Ti voglio bene. Ho paura. Aiutami. Ti prego aiutami. Each effort to speak proved increasingly futile until he gave up entirely, surrendering to the wordless screams and sobs and tears his overworked, underfed body forced from him. And Luigi just held him, his fingers brushing through his hair as he fell apart.

Thunder rumbled distantly outside, heralding another summer rain.

~~~

“I’m sorry.”

By the time Mario was able to speak, he still didn’t have much to show for it; his voice was too hoarse to do anything but whisper, and the pounding ache in his head prevented him from doing even that very well.

Luigi shushed him, readjusting his head in his lap. “Just relax.”

“I don’t think you’re selfish,” he continued anyway, curling into himself tighter, soaking in as much of his brother’s body heat as he could. “Or useless.”

“I know you don’t.”

“I didn’t have any right to go off on you like that.”

“In your shoes, I doubt I’d be handling things much better.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And I forgive you. Now we’re even.”

This remark wasn’t quite enough to make Mario smile, but it did make him feel lighter, if only a bit. From his spot on the floor, he watched the rain patter against the living room window, dark and dreary and soothing. With the rain outside and Luigi’s fingers still combing through his curls, he felt properly sleepy for the first time in ages, a feeling far more pleasant than the exhaustion that had plagued him for eight, coming up on nine weeks.

Come to think of it, when was the last time he’d slept in his own bed? Most nights he’d find the nearest wall to slump against or a decent patch of grass to crash in when he couldn’t make his body cooperate any longer. And when was the last time he’d had a proper meal? Luigi had forced him to sit down and eat a packet of crackers a day or two ago, Toad brought him soup sometime last week and refused to leave until he downed at least half of it, but…

“Weegee?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m hungry.”

The hand in his hair stilled, and the response came after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

“Well duh. Of course you are.” His voice wavered, yet Mario could tell he was smiling. “What’d’ya want? We’ve got plenty enough to make anything. Don’t hold back.”

Mario hummed, closing his eyes. Making that choice on his own was a mental process he didn’t have the resources for. “Surprise me.”

Luigi vocalized his approval, but he didn’t move to stand quite yet. Instead, the hand in Mario’s hair found his own hand, and he gladly took it, permitting himself that comfort at least.

“Hey Mario? Can you… promise me something first?”

Mario nodded, a small and rapid movement of his head. He knew what was coming: Promise me you’ll eat everything I put in front of you. Promise me you’ll take a bath. Promise me you’ll get into clean clothes and sleep on a bed tonight. He was all too ready to agree. It was the least he owed his long-suffering brother.

“When you save the Princess… promise me you’ll come home too. Okay?”

Mario’s eyes snapped back open. The rain still fell against the window before him, steady and unending.

Easy enough to promise, at least in theory. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to make more pleasant memories with his friends, with his love, with his brother especially. There were so many adventures he still wanted to go on. So many things he wanted to see and do. But if worst came to worst, and he had to lay his life down to save Peach’s… he’d already made up his mind.

“This isn’t your fault.”

He took in a deep breath through his nostrils, exhaled it slowly through his lips. Luigi was strong and selfless. He’d had the strength to lie just so he could ease Mario’s woes. The least Mario could do was offer up a comforting lie of his own.

“Yeah.” He nodded again, and if maybe he held Luigi’s hand a bit too tightly, that was okay. “Yeah, I think I can promise that.”

[lianaloverr]

I Wanna Be More Than A Friend/Drunken Confessions

Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Colby have always had some tension between your friendship, but one night and a party, a drunken Colby confesses his desires.

Warnings: fluff, drinking, smoking, kissing

Word Count: 1.2k

My gif!

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Hiiiii! I’m so sorry i haven’t posted a fiction in a while! I hope y’all still with me! Anyways sit back and enjoy!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Hey girl you almost ready?” your friend Alexia said from down the hallway. “Yea! I just gotta put on my earrings.” you say.

•

You and your friend Alexia are getting ready to go to a party set up by your best friends Sam and Colby. You’ve known those since you guys were 16 and still are stuck together till this day. However, you and Colby have chemistry together. Everybody knew had a crush on each other but just never wanted to admit it. Honestly you couldn’t deny you had feelings for him, but u never thought he liked you. You liked him very much, but you didn’t want to ruin the seemingly perfect you guys had if you got rejected.

•

A tap on your shoulder knocked you out of your thoughts and it was Alexia asking you if you were ready to go. “Girl, you ready to go?” she said. “Mhm yea.”

•

Colby’s POV

“Hey Sam! What time does the party start again?” I yelled out. “9!” he yelled back. “oh crap I only have 20 minutes to get myself ready.” I say. As i’m getting ready, Sam walks in the room. “Ooo getting a little fancy i see?” Sam says as i’m putting on my rings. “umm i guess so.” i say kinda confusing knowing damn well what i was doing. “Yea.. I know and i’m pretty sure everyone else knows who you’re getting all dressed up for.” Sam says in a suggestive tone. “Uhh who?” i ask. Sam just looks at me like i’m stupid, then he walks out.

•

I acted clueless but i knew exactly who he was talking about. Y/n has been my best friend and Sam’s since we were 16. We always stuck with each other through thick and thin, she was by our side when Sam had his car crash, she was by our side when I pushed myself out of my comfort zone and made my first song, she was there for most of ur heartbreaks and basically everything. Of course we were there for her too, but we wouldn’t trade her for the world.

•

She’s amazing. She’s beautiful. She’s helpful. She is quite literally the most perfect girl i’ve ever met. I can’t lie, i’ve had a crush on her for a while, but never expressed it due to fear of rejection, then our friendship be ruined. “Hey Colby, party’s about to start.” i hear Sam say but he walks out of the room before I can look at him. I guess I should start heading downstairs.

•

Y/n ’s POV

•

You and Alexia start pulling up into the house’s driveway. Just looking at it for the 1000th time makes you even more proud of your two best friends for how much they worked for it over the years. You see your friend Clara sitting outside smoking a cigarette. Once you get out the car you go over to her and ask her how she’s doing. “Not so great, my boyfriend just broke up with me.” she says. “Oh really? I’m so sorry to hear that girl.” you responded. “Yea, i’m glad I was invited to this party so i can keep my mind off of it. Thanks for bringing it up again.” she looked at you. “Sorry girl.” you say as you walk into the house.

•

As you step into the house you see a bunch of strobing lights and loud music playing. “Hey girl i’m gonna go find some cute boys, wanna come with?” Alexia says to you as she passes by. “Mm nah. I’m gonna go look for Sam and Colby.” you tell her. “Mkay babe, i’ll be on the dance floor if you need me.” She says as she walks away.

•

As you walk through the hallways that are drowned in red solo cups and burnt cigarette ash, a guy walks up to you. “Hey, your really pretty, wanna dance?” since you had been looking for Sam and Colby for a while, you thought it would be nice to take a break. “Uh yea, sure!” you say to the boy. He walks you out to the dance floor and you start dancing. “So, what’s your name?” you ask. “Leo, you?” he says. “Y/n.” you respond. “Pretty name.” he comments. As you and the boy are dancing, you can’t help but feel a little bit guilty. You had your eyes on one boy only but it felt like you were giving it up so easily with this dance. Even though you doubted he liked you back, you swore up and down you could see Colby from the corner of your eye, and he looked… jealous? “Hey, i’ll be right back.” you tell Leo. “Oh, okay.” he says.

•

As you start looking for Colby since he disappeared, you bump into sam. “Have you seen colby?” you ask the blond haired boy. “Oh i think he went upstairs, and hi to you too.” he says. “Sorry, hey sam.” you say as you hug him, he had the smell of alcohol all over him. “see you’ve been having fun.” you tell him. “Oh yea” he laughs. “Well i’m gonna go find Colby, see ya later.” you say. “Adios!” Sam says and you chuckle.

•

As you walk upstairs, you hear the music dying down as you head further. Upstairs, you check every room to find Colby, but he wasn’t there. The last room you didn’t check was the game room. When you walk in, you see a Colby downing bottle after bottle. “Hey Colby! Are you trying to kill yourself?!” you say as you take the bottles away, including the one he was drinking. “Why do you care?” Colby says slurring his words. “Of course i’m gonna care, you’re my best friend.” you tell him. “I wish i was more.” he says. “….. What?” you ask. “You heard me.” he says. “Colby, you’re just drunk.” you say, not believing him. “No, I know exactly what i’m saying. Y/n, i’ve been in love with you since.. forever. You so perfect and much too good for me. You’ve just always been there and it makes me fall even harder.” he confesses. “.. Colby.” you whisper. “What i’m trying to say is, I wanna be more than a friend.”

•

You flutter your eyes open as you see sunlight flooding into the room. as you yawn and think about what happened, you turn to the other side of the bed and see a passed out Colby shirtless and hair ruffled up. As you sit there admiring him, he wakes up and looks at you. “What happened last night?” he asks in a deep, sleepy voice. “Drunken confessions.” you respond. “What?” he says. “Colby, i like you. Scratch that, I think I love you. you everything I need in life and i think we would be the perfect coup-“ before you could finish, you feel a soft pair of lips land on yours. It feels like heaven, but the heaven doesn’t last long when he pulls away. “Y/n?” he says. “Hmm?” you ask. “Will you be my girlfriend?” he asks you. “Of course Colby.” you respond. When you say that, he grabs your hips and pulls you to spoon him. you lay like that until you both drift back off to sleep.

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

Hiii! I hoped you liked my story! I’m sorry it took so long for it to come out, didn’t know what to write about a love story lol. Thank y’all for sticking with me. Byeeeee!!!

Masterlist

[whimsicalpolitical]

"i'm gonna hang up now, kay?" "wait...no."

With matty <333

thank you!!

sleepy dialogue prompt 🧸

^ "i'm gonna hang up now, kay?" "wait...no." (matty)

The room is dark, save for the soft glow of the streetlight filtering through the open window. A gentle breeze wafts in, caressing your bare legs as you lay sprawled on the bed. The sheets are cool against your skin, a welcome reprieve from the summer heat that lingers even in the dead of night. You press the phone to your ear, your eyes heavy with fatigue, listening to Matty's familiar voice.

“Fuck,” you hear him sigh, “tonight was the best show ever. First one that’s sold out.”

You smile to yourself, “you don’t know how proud I am.” You pause, “how did it feel?”

“It felt surreal,” he says, “can’t even put it into words. The whole show was mental.”

"I wish I could've been there," you murmur, a hint of longing in your voice.

"I wish you were here too, love," Matty says, a touch of wistfulness in his tone. "But just a few more weeks, yeah? You’ll be with us for a few days and I'll make it up to you. I promise."

“s’ just shit, we haven’t seen each other in a month, matty.”

“I know, love,” he says softly. “Believe me, I know. I miss you every single day. Anything I can do for you? Make you feel a bit better?”

“I’d say give me a cuddle but you know,” you shrug, “you can’t.”

“Baby, you’re killing me, c’mon, something I can do right now to cheer you up.”

Even though his touch would help you, hearing him talk about his success with his band is equally soothing. They put so much effort and love into their show. Hearing that it has payed off makes you incredibly happy.

“Tell me more about tonight. What was the crowd like?”

“Mad,” Matty laughs. “They were absolutely mad. Singing every word, jumping around. You should have seen it. During ‘If You’re Too Shy,’ I thought the floor might cave in with how wild they were going.”

“That sounds incredible,” you say, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah, right?” Matty chuckles, the sound warm and familiar. “But you know, I’ve been thinking a lot about changing things up a bit. The style, I mean.”

“Oh?” you murmur, curiosity piqued even through your drowsiness. “What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know, really. Just... something different. Maybe strip things back a bit. More raw, more intimate. I want to explore new sounds, new feelings. You know how I get restless with the same thing over and over.”

You hum in agreement, understanding exactly what he means. “I think that could be amazing. You’ve always been good at reinventing yourself.”

“Thanks, love,” he says, his voice softening. “It’s just... there’s so much more I want to say, so many ways I want to express it. I don’t want us to get stuck in one place. I want every album to feel like a new chapter.”

He continues, “but then the fans want songs that aren’t on the set list. Feels a bit shit to just ignore them, you know?”

You hum.

“I’ll definitely play your favorite song at your show next week, don’t worry ‘bout that.” He laughs, “but how about you? How’s work, anything new.”

There’s a brief silence, filled only by the distant hum of the city outside and the gentle rustle of the sheets as you shift slightly.

“You still with me, love?”

“Mmhm,” you murmur, eyes already closed and on the verge of falling asleep “Just tired.”

“Thought you passed out on me already,” matty says just above a whisper, “I love you, darling.”

“Love you, matty. m’ so proud of you.”

Matty grins from ear to ear. It’s the best reward from him getting to listen to his girl being this excited.

“Alright, I’m gonna hang up now, kay?”

“Wait… no.” You speak louder then bevor but still nothing more then a crooked whisper.

The line goes quiet for a moment, and you can almost hear Matty’s surprised smile through the phone. “What’s up, love?”

You take a deep breath, the words coming out softer than you intended. “I just... I don’t want to say goodnight yet. Tell me more. Anything.”

“Alright,” Matty says, his voice a comforting hum in the quiet. “Did I ever tell you about the time we played that tiny pub in Manchester? Before everything blew up?”

“I don’t think so,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

You both know that it won’t take long until you’re out like a light but it doesn’t matter because it means you want to listen to matty even when you’re not present. You once told him that it helps you dream of him and of course he wants you to. He wants you to love him in every scenario.

[a-small-safe-place]

She Likes a Boy, and I’m not a Boy.

Queen Maeve x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your girlfriend joins the new superhero team, The Seven, and breaks up with you. This is loosely based on the unreleased song by Nxdia on TikTok. Literally just the “she likes a boy, I’m not a boy” part because a lot of sapphic people can relate to that line.

Margaret knew you were proud of her when she joined The Seven. You were proud of her for anything she did as “Queen Maeve,” but not in the same way her dad would be proud. You weren’t proud of her because it would bring you money or fame; you were proud of her because she was doing good in the world. You didn’t mind keeping your relationship quiet either. You understood that it could lead to more problems for you and definitely more problems for Queen Maeve if the masses found out that her secret identity was dating a woman, even when she was still a small-time hero.

She was fine keeping you a secret when she first joined The Seven, even once she and Homelander started their showmance. Margaret still would sneak around to see you. She would reassure you that it’s just for the cameras and that this was for the best for you two. That’s what Maeve thought, until Homelander made a move on her away from the cameras. She struggled to find the words to tell him no because she had been warned of the damage he could do when he got mad.

Homelander frowned, "No? Why not? You’re single, I’m single. We are both superheroes with super strength, so we don’t have to worry about hurting each other," he argued. Maeve noticed the way his eyes flickered with a strange emotion when he brought up hurting each other. Maeve wondered who exactly he had hurt in the past to warrant that reaction. The thought quickly left her head; she didn’t care about that right now.

"I’m just not looking for a relationship. I like my privacy," Maeve countered. Homelander scoffed as if the notion of privacy was ridiculous.

"Come on, the minute you became Queen Maeve, you lost your right to privacy. You know that as well as I do. I mean, come on, my secret identity, 'John,' only fooled people for a week. It’s going to be no time before they see 'Margaret' for who she really is," Homelander made it seem as if she had no choice.

Maeve finally agreed to "date" him, but she still wanted to keep seeing you, trying her best to keep you away from Homelander. She hated herself for having to do this, but she didn’t want to lose you. That is until she saw the damage Homelander could do if he was jealous enough. At a Vought party, a bartender had been flirting with Maeve. She knew the guy was trying to get tips, but she didn’t know Homelander was able to hear the man flirting, and Maeve laughed at a few of his cheesy jokes because they reminded her of something you would say. The day after, Homelander was being far clingier, and then the day after that, the bartender was found dead in his apartment, completely disemboweled. Homelander told her he did it. He said he was jealous because she’s never laughed with him in the same way she laughed with that bartender.

"I know you wouldn’t try to leave me, but the thought of you laughing with that bartender pissed me off," Homelander’s words felt like a threat. Maeve doesn’t sleep that night. She lays awake knowing that she has to break up with you or watch you be strung up by your intestines.

A week passes. Queen Maeve doesn’t contact you in any way. She can’t, not with Homelander being so clingy. Finally, she is able to slip away while he goes somewhere to help Black Noir. She arrives at your apartment.

Maeve knocks.

Before all this, she would just walk in and make herself at home. You open the door. "Margaret? I’ve been worried sick! You haven’t answered any of my texts or calls! I haven’t seen you in over a week," you scold her.

"We need to talk," she says with a plain face and a monotone voice. Maeve feels lucky she has had to master acting during her time as a hero. You let her in and shut the door. She takes a small survey of your space; she knows she won’t be in it again. Maeve wants to remember what she can.

"Is something wrong?" You ask; there’s a hint of sadness in your voice. You know what’s coming. Maeve turns around with a disgusted grimace painted on her face.

"I’ve been cheating on you," is all she says. It’s painful to admit; she wishes she could tell you she didn’t have a choice and that she’s doing this to keep you safe, but she doubles down. "With Homelander. Since our showmance started."

"Why, Maeve?" You ask, and Maeve’s acting fails her for a moment; she frowns. You always called her Margaret before and not Maeve. She responds with the first thing that comes to mind. "He’s a man. You’re not. You didn’t think I would actually stay with a woman? Our relationship wasn’t even real. We never went on public dates. You were never my long-term plan. Forget this relationship ever happened. You’re nothing to me." Maeve leaves without another word. She slams the door. She flinches, knowing you hate that.

Maeve goes home to drink. Homelander repeatedly asks her what’s wrong, but she just responds with "nothing, just having a drink." Eventually, he goes to his own room, leaving Maeve alone in her Vought-provided room. Maeve wants to cry, but she knows he is listening to her, so she continues drowning her sorrows.

Years pass. Queen Maeve is inescapable for you. She’s everywhere. You finally move on from your relationship with Margaret, choosing to tell people that your ex had died. After all, Margaret was dead; she was just replaced by Queen Maeve.

You feel a bittersweet feeling when you see Homelander and Maeve broke up because he was sleeping around. You felt a little bad for her. Getting cheated on sucked. You moved through your life unbothered. That is until she was outed by Homelander as a "lesbian," and then he name-dropped you as her girlfriend. For a moment, Maeve was visibly shocked, but her face quickly reverted to a painfully fake smile. He said your first and last name. You realized that you had also been outed to anyone in your life that would put two and two together.

The next couple of days your phone rang and rang and rang. Family members calling you. Friends calling you. Co-workers. Random numbers. They all wanted the same thing. The hot gossip on your relationship with Maeve. You got a few nasty emails and direct messages on social media from anonymous accounts that were telling you that you and Queen Maeve would rot in hell for your sins, and a few threats from people that were convinced you corrupted Maeve. You had to take some personal time from work. Maeve eventually showed up at your apartment.

"We need to talk." The last time she said those words to you, she practically tore your heart out of your chest. This time she didn’t wait for you to let her in; she just pushed past you. Just like the last time, she takes in your apartment. You had gotten quite a few upgrades for the apartment.

"Are you here because of the talk show from the other day?" You ask; if you weren’t irritated by the situation, your voice would likely sound sad. "Yes," is all Maeve says. So she’s not really here for you. She’s not here to apologize.

"Well, you can feel free to leave; I’m not a boy, remember?" The words are bitter when they fall from your mouth. You’re not thinking when you say it. "I don’t want you to hate me anymore. I wanted to be with you. I did, but if I stayed, I would have put you in danger."

Of course, she’s deflecting. "So you cheated for my own good? That sounds so stupid," you scoff.

Maeve becomes very serious. "Being a hero isn’t what you think. It’s not about actually helping people. It’s about being a product that can be sold and palatable for the masses." After she says this, you take a seat and wait for her to continue. "Most of the heroes are narcissistic assholes that have no business having powers. They’re dangerous, and Homelander is the most dangerous."

"Homelander? Seriously? He’s like Jesus or something?" It’s hard to believe the top hero is a monster.

"Please, believe me," she begs. Maeve begins to explain what happened with the bartender right before she broke up with you. Maeve explains everything that she can without possibly endangering you.

"Maeve, I had no idea," you tell her. "I know what I said and did all those years ago was unforgivable, but I didn’t want to risk you trying to come and find me again," she says, sitting next to you.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, "How did he find out about us?" Maeve’s brow furrows. "I’m not sure. Maybe Vought knew and had a file on you or something, and he found it, but he knows. I don’t expect you to trust me right away, but getting you in the public eye is going to be the best way to keep you safe. If the public loves you, it will look suspicious if you suddenly disappear or die. He won’t touch you right now, but this is a short-term solution." You don’t respond.

"Vought’s marketing team wants to meet you tomorrow. A car will come pick you up at 3:00 tomorrow," Maeve leaves.

[koolades-world]

Congrats on 2k followers!!!! 🥳🥳

Do you think you could do something for mammon using

16: "you love me and you know it"

17: “You’re a terrible liar”

Like maybe mammon pouting at a ball because MC keeps getting sucked into conversations or dancing with his brothers and he hasn’t had a chance to spend time with MC so he gets all pouty and annoyed eventually MC notices or Lucifer telling you. I can see the lines being said by either MC or mammon and it still work.

thank you!!

omg i was really hoping someone would make this combo! i actually put them next to each for that reason and i'm so so glad someone found it haha. also love the idea you proposed!

enjoy <3

prompts 16 and 17 w/ Mammon

Diavolo loved his parties, and found any excuse to throw one. It meant he got the day off of working and got to spend time with those he was close with. He’d also have to entertain some other nobility and such, but it was worth it to him. He greatly enjoyed coming up with excuses for these parties, and almost every time, Barbatos tried to stop him, but once Diavolo told him anything relating to Mc with this party, he was always on board. This time, it was a party to celebrate your half birthday.

The party was very extravagant and large, because Diavolo only wanted the best for you, even if it wasn’t actually your birthday. Barbatos went with you personally to get an outfit created and fitted. Everyone invited was required to bring a present, per Diavolo’s orders. You weren’t exactly sure what you were going to do with all that stuff, but you appreciated the thought behind it. You probably wouldn’t know even half of the people there despite the time you’d spent in the Devildom.

Naturally, since you were the guest of honor, all eyes were on you and the brothers were clambering for your attention more than usual. You were whisked from person to person all across the ballroom, not really given a single chance to rest. It was a lot, but you tell they all really cared and wanted to make the day special, despite that being something you’d never once celebrated in your life. Countless people came up to you and said happy birthday to you, and the conversations afterwards never lasted long because of whatever brother happened to be hogging your attention would be bound to drag you away sooner rather than later.

Asmo raved about your adorable outfit to everyone he had the chance to, and about how fabulous you looked in it. Satan had intellectual conversations with the other guests about humans and how great they were. Beel took every chance he got to show you a new food he’d gotten from the refreshments table. Belphie hung onto you like a koala to a tree and kept others from getting too close to you, and Lucifer watched over you like a proud father, telling various powerful demons invited who hung around him about your great prowess. Yet, in all the chaos, you’d only seen Mammon twice and neither time was spent specifically with him. You saw him when you arrived at the party, and then once attempting to pickpocket a demon. Every time you thought you saw him, you got excited, but almost every single time, it turned out not to be him.

Finally, you caught sight of him after finishing your second dance with Asmo. He told you he needed a drink and would be right back with one for you too. He vanished into the crowd and suddenly, you were alone again. Asmo would be upset with the fact that he couldn’t find you, but you hadn’t even had one dance with Mammon yet. It only seemed fair. You mentally forgave Asmo and made your way over to where you saw Mammon last.

“Mammon!” You stuck your arm in the air and waved at him, trying to make your way over to him. He perked up upon seeing you and met you half way. He pulled you closer to him and helped you get out of the throng. “I felt like I’ve barely seen you this evening,” you told him.

“You’ve spent all evening canoodling with my brothers.” He huffed, looking to the side.

“I’m really sorry. I kept getting passed from person to person and I only just now got away from them.” You clung to him, giving him a pouty, sad face.

“I don’t forgive ya. How could you do this to me?” He looked as if he was struggling to hold his ‘angry’ face.

“You’re a terrible liar. I can tell from your body language how happy you are. After all, would someone made at me be holding me this close?” You playfully rolled your eyes, gesturing to how his arms were encircling you and preventing you from going anywhere.

“I’m just doing this to… make sure you don’t fall. Yeah. That’s it.” He stumbled over his words.

“You love me and you know it. There’s no shame in hiding it. If you’re actually upset with me, you wouldn’t mind if I danced with Lucifer? He hasn’t gotten his second dance yet, not to mention Diavolo.” You knew this would work.

“Hey, hey. You don’t have to do that. That’s not funny. How can you say that when I haven’t even gotten one yet?” He moved his head so quick to look at you, you swore you heard a snapping noise.

“That’s what I thought.” You smugly smiled.

“When do I get my dance?” He eagerly asked.

“Now, if you’d like.” You offered.

“The sooner the better. What would yer birthday be without Mammon?” He began to tug you forward towards the dance floor.

“Half birthday.” You fought back laughter.

“Half birthday.” He quickly corrected himself.

No matter what, you knew you could depend on Mammon for anything, and that his love for you was unconditional. You felt the same about him and even if the both of you struggled to communicate that sometimes, you knew the feelings unspoken were something that you both understood.

[sturns-mermaid]

sunny side up 🍳

small blurb of one of cherry and chris dates, no warnings, reader referred to as 'Cherry',

౨ৎ wc: 710 (proofread by me) 😈

send in asks about them pls!

more of them here!

-

At the diner, Chris fidgeted with his hoodie while anxiously awaiting Cherry. It was probably their fifth date so far, or so he thought he kind of lost track. Every Friday they would meet for breakfast at the diner they met at. Cherry would always come in every day for her daily coffee, but Fridays were special. This was their spot to talk and hang out. It was much more convenient to Cherry, as the diner wasn’t a very far walk from her apartment. Chris, on the other hand, had to have Matt drive him or take an Uber, which is more so the Uber lately since Matt grew annoyed with waking up early. Their breakfast consisted of Chris ordering the usual waffles (he had to change it up) and Cherry ordering her sunny-side-up eggs and coffee. They would sit at the booth for hours just talking as the day passed them by, by the time they realized how long they had been there Cherry had already drunk four cups of coffee and Chris was practically chugging Pepsi. After they had paid, which Chris always insisted he would pay for their breakfast, Cherry would give him a small kiss on the cheek for a ‘thank you’ and they would say their goodbyes and go their separate ways. Chris would then have Matt pick him up or simply call a ride share and when he got home, he was love-struck, replaying every moment back in his head and cherishing it. 

The bell on the diner door dinged and Chris looked up to see Cherry walk inside, a bright smile on her face. She walked over and slid into the booth. “Sorry, I couldn’t decide on an outfit,” she says as she sets her purse down beside her and looks at him. Chris, captivated by her beauty, studied her features—her pretty eyes, lips painted with her favorite lipstick, and stylish hair—finding her beautiful. “It’s okay, I’ll always wait for you,” he replied as he watched a soft smile spread on her lips. The waiter comes over and hands them their drinks, already knowing what they have every time they come. She tells them their food will come out shortly. “So how’s your classes?” Chris starts trying to start the conversation by taking a sip of his Pepsi. Inspired by writing, Cherry decided to take some college writing classes, although her major was her focus. “They are going great, much more interesting than the other classes I’m taking.” She jokes as she takes a sip of her coffee.

Not long after, their food came, and happy chatter filled the air as they ate. Open sugar packets splayed out on the table as Cherry continuously put sugar in her coffee. Listening to Chris talk about his day, they always listened to each other, sometimes her more than him, as he was quite the talker. “Mmh,” she hums in response as she stirs in the sugar in the coffee with a small spoon. “So then I passed the test,” he says as he smiles and takes a bite of his waffles. Cherry dropped her spoon, her jaw dropping slightly as he had been talking about getting his license for the past few weeks. “You passed the test?” she questions as she looks at him, a smile spreading across her face. Trying to hold in a soft giggle, Chris nods, his mouth full of food. “Chris, that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you,” she says softly as she reaches over and ruffles his brunette hair. Chris gulps as he feels her hand tangling through his soft locks, his cheeks completely flushed as he looks at her through his lashes. She notices and pulls back as she awkwardly rubs the back of her neck, not meeting his gaze.

They weren’t exactly a thing yet, just going on dates, but somehow things always seemed to get awkward. Chris cleared his throat as he sat up a little taller in the booth, his eyes meeting hers as he chuckled softly. “Maybe I can pick you up sometime,” he suggests, trying to clear the air of the awkward silence. Cherry smiles at him as she meets his gaze, a slight blush creeping up on her cheeks. “I would love that.”

-

dividers by: @strangergraphics

tag list: @itsmaddielouis , @oliviasthatgirl , @scorpio1205 , @submattenthusiast , @brianna-grace12

[yourlocalmerchgirl]

The War Within - Part One

Briefly Joel x Neurodivergant Reader Then Tommy x Neurodivergant wife reader

Summary: You've only been with Joel for 6 months when the outbreak happens, flipping your entire life into a hell scape. Feeling backed into a corner and completely suffocated by life you decide to join the Fireflies with Tommy after a heartbreaking event to search for a better life and the two of you end up in Jackson

A twist of fate happens and you and Tommy Fall in love and get married when Joel and Ellie turn up in Jackson one day and you have to face him all these years later

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Angst- Lots of it, Verbal fighting- lots of it , course language, emotional, some fluff and happiness, talks of anxiety, depression, Panic attacks, Neurodivergant reader. No use of y/n. Reader goes by the nickname Birdie. Use of typical pet name.

A/N: I hope you all love this new multi part journey I've been working on, I'm extremely proud of this story. I understand that this storyline/ themes aren't for everyone. Part Two will be out shortly.

More often then not you felt like you were outside of your body, floating above it.

Being a spectator to your own life, watching as your dissociative cocoon wrapped itself around you taking hold.

You found yourself in this position for days or weeks at a time. It was your body’s way of protecting itself after years of constantly being in fight or flight mode.

You looked on as you desperately tried to hold on to what little you had left, to your life with Joel. But it was like trying to hold on to a wet rope in the middle of a tsunami. Slowly losing your grip you began to drown, fighting desperately to stay above water. The more you tried to kick to the surface, the more tired you became and the more tired you became the less you fought to stay afloat.

Time dragged on, the air had a thickness to it you’d not yet felt. Everything sounded slow and muffled as you tried to make sense of why and how long you two had been fighting for.

“Are you even listening to me?” Joel pressed, getting more aggravated by the minute.

He got nothing as you blankly stared back him, eyes glazed over.

“Unbelievable…. I should be looking after Sarah, not looking after you”

Joel’s words snapped you back to reality. the fog that incased you not thick enough to protect you from the verbal blow as it struck you, deep and abrupt.

Your whole body burned, the tears started falling so quickly that you had no hope of stoping them even if you tried. The two of you often hastily said things to each other in the heat of the moment when you both reached the point of overstimulation. Things that neither of you meant. But this, this felt different. You knew the tone of Joel’s voice well, always able to understand his meaning by the tone of his voice. His tone was razor sharp, with an anger behind it that he had never used with you before.

“This is why we can’t talk things out like this, why nothing gets resolved. Because you cry every-time we have a argument”

“Are you fucking kidding me Joel?” You shout. Completely losing all ability to keep it in.

“Im sorry I care, that I’m emotional. Trust me I would much rather feel nothing 24/7 than to feel everything as if it’s a electrical currant passing through me, but I can’t. No matter how fucking hard I try I’m always going up be sensitive and emotional.”

“The state of the world doesn’t exactly lend its self to being emotional, one wrong move when your heads not focused could cost someone there life. You- you get stuck in these episodes and it’s like your not in your body anymore, I can’t keep keepin an eye on us both. You’re gonna get us killed one of these days.”

It hurts like hell, but it’s the truth and deep down you know it. But it doesn’t make you any less hurt and angry because it’s the truth either.

“I’m sorry Joel. I’m sorry that I should of died instead of Sarah, I’m sorry that no matter what I do I’ll never be enough for you.”

Your admission stuns Joel, your words cutting him like a straight blade razor. You’d never said anything like that about yourself, atleast not out loud you hadn’t.

“I can’t fucking talk to you when we’re like this. I’m going out” Joel exclaims while grabbing his coat.

“Wait, it’s almost curfew, where are you going?” You ask, everything but concern draining from your body.

“I don’t know? I’m just fucking going out, don’t wait up for me” Joel says as he slams the door

“I love you” you shout after him, but if falls on deaf ears.

You cried in silence, thinking about what had lead you to this point. You and Joel never had the chance to truly be happy. Your relationship was so new when the outbreak happened that it was doomed from the start. You two never had the chance to fully open up to each other

It wasn’t all his fault either, Joel was hardened by the cruel bitch that was the universe when it took the one thing he loved more than life itself. You also knew you weren’t easy to deal with, never getting the opportunity to talk to Joel about your anxiety and depression that stemmed from it. About how to spot if you were getting overstimulated and anxious and how to help talk you down from it. Or about how much you relied on a schedule and a routine to navigate life and how much progress you’d made with it all in therapy. Instead you were both thrust into a situation you didn’t have the tools to deal with and thus your relationship suffered at the hands of it.

The further past curfew it got the more you worried about Joel. It terrified you to think about the situations that would unfold if he was caught by Fedra. Dressing in all dark clothing you decided to go out searching for Joel.

Lurking in the shadows for hours you search for Joel, checking every inch of the qz and the seedy areas people hangout after curfew with no luck. The sun will start coming up soon, so you head back to the apartment hoping Joel managed to stumble back there unscathed.

You hear some commotion inside as you reach your apartment door. Slowly opening the door you feel like the wind got knocked out of you when you see Joel burred deep inside Tess, telling her how much he loved her. You stumble backwards as you try to catch your breath, refusing to believe you’re actually seeing this. But the scene before you never changes and your forced to realize this is unfolding in front of your eyes. Silently scrambling you grab your emergency go bag by the door and shut it behind you.

Your mind is racing as you slid down the wall and slump over. Gasping for breath you try desperately to comprehend what you saw, trying think quickly about what to do.

——————————————————————

Tommy springs awake at the sound of frantic knocking on the door. Creeping up slowly to the door, pistol in his hand.

“Who is it?”

“I-it’s me…it’s Birdie” your voice meek and distraught, tone barely above a whisper.

Tommy quickly unlocks the door to find you on the other side, eyes bloodshot and and desperate. Your body langue is defeated as Tommy notices your backpack.

“C-can I come in?” You ask, a hoarseness to your voice. Your eyes trained on the ground.

“Birdie, what’s wrong? Everything alright?” His face etched with concern as he looks you over.

“ Is- is there any way to join the fireflies quickly. To- to be able to leave the QZ with you guys tonight?”

“You get Joel to join the fireflies?”

“No n-not Joel, for me..just me” you shake your head. Your voice shakes as you speak. Your head hung low, eyes glued to your feet.

“Look at me Birdie” Tommy says gingerly, cupping your chin with his thumb and index finger, gently lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“Did he hurt you? He didn’t hit you did he?” He asked in a firm but calm tone while turning your face side to side to check for visible marks.

Tommy didn’t believe Joel was capable of laying a hand on you like that but he needed to make sure. His brother had become more angry and violet over the years. Drinking more and pushing home made drugs to some of the fedra guards and he was starting not to recognize the man Joel was becoming.

You shook your head.

“Hurt me yes, hit me no. We’ve been hurting each other for to long and I just can’t handle it anymore. I- I can’t live like this anymore and the two if you are the only people I trust.”

“Does he know your leavin’?”

“If they will let me go I’ll go in slip a note I wrote under the door. If not i don’t know what I’ll do”

“Let’s go talk to them. I’m not sure what’s goin’ on between the two of you but I’m not leavin you here like this, but I’m also not going to press you about what’s goin’ on if you don’t want to talk about it”

“ I’ll talk about it eventually Tommy I just can’t talk about it right now much less think about it, I’m just in to much pain”

————————————————————

It’s nearly dusk when Joel wakes up, rolling over to wrap his arm around you.

“I don’t want to fight like that anymore baby girl” Joel says as he nuzzles into your neck, but his eyes snap open the moment he realizes somethings off, that you scent is different. That’s when realizes the grave mistake he made when he sees it’s Tess in your bed and not you.

“What the fuck is going on” Joel shouts while pushing himself out of bed.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s Birdie?”

“You didn’t seem to be complaining a couple hours ago that she wasn’t here”

It’s in this moment as Joel feels the color drain from his face that he’s made a detrimental mistake. That he hadn’t been with you at all last night, that it wasn’t you when he’d finally said I love you.

Joel immediately starts putting his boots on to go looking for you. His motions panicked and scrambled.

“You heard me, I said get the fuck out and don’t come back”

As Joel slams the door he hears paper crinkle under his boot, he steps back to see a folded piece of paper with his name on it just inside the door. He unfolds it yo find a note from you.

Dear Joel,

I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for the pain and frustration I’ve caused you over the years. The way we’ve been living isn’t healthy for either of us and just can’t stomach it any longer. You don’t deserve to be worried about both of us constantly because I can’t handle life in the dystopian universe well. You said if anything were to ever happen to go to Tommy that he take care of me so rest easy knowing that right up until the end I listened to you. I’ve joined the fire flies with him and by the time you see this we will have left the QZ in search of a better living situation. Tommy will message you here and there on the radio. You and Sarah will always have a place on my heart.

Love,

Birdie

Anger and failure blend together in a unrelenting weight on Joel’s chest as he flips the kitchen table over, papers flying everywhere, glass breaking.

—————————————————————-

About 10 years later

Tommy is up on the scaffolding when he hears the unmistakable tone of his brothers voice

“Tooommmyyyy”

Tommy runs down the stairs as Joel’s jumps from the horse he’s on and the share in a tight embrace.

“The fuck you doin here?”

“I came to save you guys”

Tommy and Maria take Joel and Ellie into the mess hall for a meal. As Tommy’s taking his coat and gloves off he slips his ring into his pocket, not ready to tell Joel that the two of you are in love, that you’d gotten married. Not wanting to have the conversation in front of everyone. Emotions swirl around Tommy’s head, on one hand he’s happy to see his brother on the other hand fear and resentment in not knowing what kind of person his brother is these days.

“I trust the two of you would like some time alone, I’ll take Ellie up to the house to shower and set her up with clothes and then take her to the town movie night” Maria says

“It’s ok Ellie you can go with her, it’ll be alright”

“ Tommy a word in private before you do so?”

“Is Birdie going to be alright?”

“I think she’s going to be a bit shaken, she has therapy tonight and I know she’ll be home right now unwinding so she won’t just bump into him. Imma make sure she knows tonight that he’s here.”

—————————————————————

“It doesn’t look like you’ve aged much” Joel says taking a seat at the bar of the tipsy bison, nervously smoothing his hand over it.

“You on the other hand” Tommy offers.

“Is she here? Is Birdie alive?” Joel asks nervously

“Yes she’s here in Jackson”

“Where is she? I want to see her” Joel presses

“Now slow down Joel, ya can’t just waltz in here and demand to see her”

“ The fuck I can’t! You ain’t her keeper. I have the right to see her”

“I’m not her keeper nor am I trying to be, all I’m trying to say is she’s made a lot of progress since we’ve been here. Her health and well being has improved 10 fold thanks to therapy.”

“Therapy?”

“One of our residents here used to be a therapist before the outbreak so we built her a place to practice out of and birdie goes every week like she did before the outbreak”

“She went to therapy before? I didn’t know that”

“And I suppose you never asked either”

Tommy’s comment gets under Joel’s skin. Bringing up resentment that had be just below the surface.

“So what’s this have to do with you tellin’ me I can’t see Birdie?”

Tommy let’s out a frustrated huff at Joel’s pressing. He doesn’t want to argue with his brother, they havnt seen each other in so long the last thing he wants to do is get into a fight. But Tommy’s one and only goal is protecting you and he will be as harsh as he has to be to get Joel to understand, even if he doesn’t like the answers.

“Because Joel you just arrived with a mystery kid, she has no idea your even here. You just turning up at her door with no notice would have her shaken, set back her mental health. She deserves to atleast know your here. To make her own decision on wether or not she wants to see you”

“So what are you really doing out here Joel? What’s with the kid?”

“She needs to go to this firefly base out here so Marlene hired me to bring her out here. And I took the job so I could get out here and save you guys.”

“Why did you think we needed saving?”

“I don’t know Tommy maybe because the two of you guys stopped fucking messaging me back. Because Marlene said you weren’t with the fireflies anymore. It must be because your girl keeps you on a short leash.”

“Maria? It is because of a rule we put In place here but she ain’t my girl. We started having some rough people coming through because they found out about us from radio activity so we had to be more careful and only use it for emergency’s.”

“ Let me show you where you guys will be staying so you can rest, clean up and go to the town movie night if you’d like.”

—————————————————————

Tommy can’t help but smile about the way you look up from your book when he walks through the door, food from the mess hall in his hands.

“Hey baby” you coo, the smile on your face lighting up the room when you see him.

“Hey sweet girl, sorry I’m home a lil late. But I have your favorite, it was Shepards pie night at the mess hall.”

You get up to take the food containers from him, placing them on the counter as he wraps his arms around you.

“How did therapy go to today babe?” Tommy asks as he kisses your temple.

“It went good, just exhausted by it tonight”

After dinner your curled up on the couch with your head in his lap asking him about his day.

“Baby I need to tell you something” Tommy breaths out his voice hardly above a whisper.

“Ok… is everything ok?” You ask starring up at him.

“I’m afraid it’s probably going up upset you” Tommy says rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“What is it Tommy?” You ask as you sit up. Mind racing with what it could be.

“Joel’s here, in Jackson”

Taglist:

@hiddenbabynyc @frogjumps-world @kaleidoscopewritings19

@coolchris77 @caitlynsixxx @natasharoblesjoneshi @jarman147 @bobgirllll @lovelessamai @hydralicious-bucky

@bellaramseysbitch @rav3n-pascal22 @saltymagazinecreation

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@miniatureangelhoundsoul @nopenopenope10484 @harryscumcloth @morgaussy, @kalllistos @spikershoyo @musings-of-a-rose @alongfortheridereader

[chalkscene]

lovebrush chronicles ⇢ NOT LEAVING THIS GARDEN OF EDEN

you did follow through your plan, you tell yourself. you saved earth and went straight back home. you just didn’t plan on going back to eden. after all, home is where the heart is.

ft. ayn alwyn, alkaid mcgrath, lars rorschach & clarence clayden

note: reimagined eden endings because i’m still sad i didn’t pull a single eden ssr illustra <//3 also i apologize for the big blocks of texts lmao

“hey, chief. remember little leaf?” o’connor suddenly asks. AYN freezes at the mention of his second-in-command’s endearment for you and though he doesn’t mean to intimidate his companion, there’s a permanent glare in his gaze on o’connor which makes the latter panic in fear. o’connor’s hands shoot straight to his head as he begs, “please don’t burn my hair. it was just a question.” the chief stifles a snort, “i’m not gonna do anything.” o’connor sighs in relief before ayn answers his earlier inquiry, “i remember. why do you ask?” “i was just wondering. how do you think she’s doing?” in an attempt to mask the longing he still feels since you left, ayn simply shrugs, “safe, probably. she’s home now.” “she is.” it’s not o’connor who speaks this time and just like that, ayn feels his entire body go tense—he’d know that voice anywhere. unbeknownst to him, you’ve been standing just a few feet behind him. the moment you walked into the busy tavern today, the members of the order perked up at the sight of you but before they could express the slightest glee, you urgently signalled them to hush. you’re grateful that despite their undying loyalty to ayn, they play along. when you finally speak, the room falls into complete silence as every single member of the order awaits ayn’s reaction. his suspicions are confirmed by the smirk from o’connor who’s now looking past him and straight at you, beaming, “hey, little leaf!” ayn spins on his heel to face you, the usually blunt man now rendered speechless. you can’t help but tease him, “i can’t believe i managed to sneak up on you. you’re losing your touch, ayn.” the seconds that follow pass in a blur and you find yourself in the strong yet gentle embrace of ayn’s arms once again. “you’re back…” ayn mutters, clear disbelief in his tone as if to convince himself that he’s not dreaming and you barely contain your giggles, feeling hopelessly smitten with this boy, “like you said. i’m home.”

with the lantern glowing in his hand, ALKAID is strolling along a commercial district—the exact replica of the street he took you to in eden—and like they always do, his thoughts drift back to you. if you could see this new eden, would you be proud of him? he can’t help but wonder. he hasn’t fully regained his capacity to feel a multitude of emotions since he paid the price to rebuild eden into a better place but one thing’s for certain—he yearns for you. but he also knows that if a star were to fall from the sky tonight, it would be incredibly selfish of him to wish for your return. he can only wish for your safety and happiness wherever you are. that should be enough, he tells himself. you already granted him three days to be his lover—much more than what he deserved after everything he had done. he’s not in any position to demand for more. but the universe is quick to differ because sitting on a bench just a few feet away now is your figure. before he can stop himself, alkaid calls your name and you immediately turn to the sound of his voice. both falling in a state of disbelief at the sight of each other, neither of you say anything for a moment. “hi,” you speak first. it takes some effort but alkaid manages to find his voice, “what are you doing here?” “i didn’t know where to look for you,” you suppose that’s not exactly what he meant with his question but your reply still answers it all the same—i came back because i promised i’d find you. your eyes then dart to the lantern in his hands, “you still have it.” “i kept it. i don’t know why i brought it with me though,” he admits bashfully, his boyish grin so childlike it leaves no trace of the master of eden he used to be. and it’s the loveliest you’ve ever seen him. “i was going to give it to you before you left,” alkaid adds, “you can have it now so you can bring it back home… if you want it.” “if that’s the only reason you’re giving it to me then i can’t take it,” you try to sound as solemnly as you can and guilt immediately gnaws at you when alkaid visibly deflates at the rejection. still, out of respect for your decision, he simply gives a resigned nod, ”i understand.” “i don’t think you do.” you can no longer fight the smile pulling on the corners of your lips and alkaid looks nothing short of confused. “alkaid, i’m staying.”

after a long trip beyond the borders of eden, LARS couldn’t be more ecstatic to go home and get some rest but as he rummages his backpack for his keys, something at the foot of the door catches his eye—a small pot of cactus. maybe his mind is playing tricks on him but the prickly succulent looks identical to the one he gifted you during your time in eden. he recounts the past events, from your arrival in this world down to the moment you left. he’s sure he packed the cactus for you. “at least, put that in a box before you stuff it in my bag next time,” you quip as you come into lars’s view, raising your finger to show him the small bandage over the spot where the cactus pricked you. with the traveler stood frozen and speechless, you take it upon yourself to cross the distance between the two of you. soon, lars is reaching for your hand as if to inspect the tiny wound but that is the furthest thing from his mind right now. he’s trying to process the sight of you standing in front of him and holding his hand and that this is all, in fact, very real. still, he manages to match your teasing. “how about daisies, hm? would that be better?” brazenness drips from his tone but there’s obvious sincerity swimming in his eyes. you can’t even describe how badly you missed those blue eyes. “much,” you tell him. in an instant, the playful atmosphere dissipates until there’s nothing but genuine longing in the air surrounding you both. “i thought you went home,” he says softly but you don’t miss the subtle shiver in his voice as he keeps it steady. “i did.” “why did you come back?” “i wanted to see you again.” “but it’s safer there.” “i feel safer with you.” lars doesn’t have a rebuttal to that. “i missed you, lars.” “i missed you, too,” he mutters as he takes you in his arms, planting a chaste kiss on your forehead, “are you sure about this? i don’t think i can let you go again.” with a giggle, you cradle his face and bring him closer for a kiss that he’s eager to reciprocate. “i don’t want you to,” you mumble against his lips.

eden has begun to live up to its name since CLARENCE took over but sometimes, the falcon in him still comes out and clarence finds himself at a shooting range practicing his aim—not that he ever needs it. he can hit multiple bullseyes in a row within seconds. but better safe than sorry and today is no exception. when he shoots the last of his ammunition, an audible thud shortly follows, catching his attention. he immediately glances at the target and at the center, among his many gunshots, one rubber bullet stands out. on full alert, clarence scans the area to deduce the possible source of the dart only to be met by the last person he ever expected to find in eden—you. “i didn’t think i’d get that on the first try,” you quip. “what are you doing here?” the urgency in his voice contradicts the cheeky expression on your face. “i took some shooting lessons and i wanted to show you,” you tell him proudly, “but i’m not sure if they’re eden standards.” clarence huffs out a laughter at your remark as he shakes his head in amusement. your playful wit hasn’t changed one bit, to his relief. “if you want me to teach you, just ask,” he banters. “i literally hit a bullseye,” you retort but clarence only shrugs, “beginner’s luck.” his mock indifference reminds you of the clarence—or rather, the falcon—you met when you first arrived in eden. it’s only been a few months but it all feels like a distant memory that you can’t help but laugh about it now. not wanting to waste another second apart from him, you cross the space separating you, running into his arms where he catches you with ease. “i was scared you wouldn’t remember me,” you mutter against his shoulder and a soft chuckle escapes him as he deems the mere idea of your confession ridiculous, “i never stopped thinking about you.” when you eventually pull away, clarence’s gaze drops to the gun in your hand. “what kind of gun is that?” “this?” you hold it up so clarence can get a better look at it, “it’s a nerf gun. and it’s just a toy.” you point the gun at clarence and aim for his arm. before he can protest, you pull the trigger to prove it causes no serious injury, “see?” still, the impact makes him flinch. “where did you get it?” “i brought it with me.” the insinuation of home in your reply slightly dampens clarence’s mood. he can’t help but ask, “how long are you staying?” “depends,” you answer in a tone that’s unwaveringly cheery, “how long are the lessons you promised?” the corners of clarence’s lips quirk up at your joshing and hope begins to bubble in his chest, “as long as you want them.”