#its about the mutual trust okay. its about the mutual care. its about saying it but without actually saying it. do you understand me.

[thisisvoided]

you do not i mean you do NOT understand the absolute insanity i go through whenever i listen to the message shou left for yashiki in shibito magire like akjsfhkasjd DAWG??? BRO??????? the fact that NOT ONLY did it take mashita threatening to tell his mom to make shou back off but ALSO the fact that shou actually listens to mashita, theres also the fact that MASHITA TRUSTS SHOU ENOUGH TO TELL HIM TO BE HIS AND YASHIKI'S BACKUP IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO THEM. LIKE..... BRO??? AM I INSANE OR>.... and its also implied that mashita USED BASEBALL TERMS to tell him this!!!! bcus shou is way fukin into baseball!!!!!!!!!!! am i crazy???? i feel insane about them okay they make me literally crazy. AND THEN SHOU JUST GOES "haha but like thats ever gonna need to happen, you two have got this in the bag" LIEK...... BRUHHHHHH. i am unwell about them i need to be taken out back BUT I LOVE THEM OKAY THEY HAVE MY WHOLE SOUL,,,,, they are my guys, my detective duo, my gummies,,,,,,,,, i dont even know if this post makes any sense but I DONT CARE. OKAY. I LOVE THEM.

[caruliaa]

consuming media your mutuals like is so scary bc what if im a misunderstander what if my mutuals think all my takes r wrong and cringe and im not even an understander of the media and im wrong about it thats so scary. what if im wrong abt man from the podcast . even worse what if being worried abt being wrong about man from the podcast means i dont let myself enjoy it and talk with people about it and ruins the whole thing for me bc thats what im more scared abt tbh . agh .

[ipseitydelrey]

your lips, my lips ☆ s. reid

ship sub!spencer reid x fem!reader

content/warnings smutty smut (mdni 18+), mutual masturbation, mommy kink, accidental voyeurism, he sounds like a slut you can’t blame yourself

word count 2.5k

summary after spencer returns home early from a case, you come back home after work to find him in an incredibly compromised position.

a/n ignore the accidental hiatus, but hi !! im probably not going to be able to post at all in may bc im going to be in europe for the entire month. i’m posting this before going in a cave so…enjoy this as a treat!

To put it briefly, Spencer was…awkward.

That’s not to discredit him, though. You can tell that he loves the team and you (especially you). Although he’s less awkward around people he trusts and has known for longer, he still can’t really speak up for what he wants.

And the poor boy is just so touch starved. It’s clear he’s practically clueless when it comes to other forms of intimacy aside from sympathetic hugs to friends or victims in a case. Hell, it even took a month since you started dating for Spencer to be comfortable huddling next to you on the couch; it took even longer for him to be fine with sharing the same bed.

You had barely done anything sexual yet. The closest you had probably gotten to something intimate like that with him was him involuntarily jutting his hips up into your ass when you were making out on the couch. You had hoped that he would continue to do that, especially with how you could feel his hardness pressing up against your core, but he got so flustered and started stammering out high-pitched apologies before moving away and retreating into the bathroom. You imagined that he probably took care of it, but knowing him, maybe he doesn’t jerk off.

You went with that assumption for a while since you — and especially him — hadn’t initiated anything potentially steamy. For him, makeout sessions were enough and although you wanted more, you were okay with indulging in him. You figured that with how touch starved he was, you should take it slow before moving on.

You got to leave work early, and you’re usually glad when that happens but today you’re especially happy because Spencer had just gotten back from a successful case a couple hours ago. When he landed, he immediately texted you, letting you know where he was. When you left your workplace, you had forgotten to text him that you’ll be home earlier than expected, but you’re sure that he wouldn’t mind.

After all, he’s probably just as excited to see you, if not more.

You don’t call out to him when you unlock and open the apartment door; he should hear that you’re home with the locking of the door and the tossing of the keys, as well as the rustle of your coat as you take it off and hang it up.

It’s quiet, but that isn’t really saying anything since it usually is. But you’d figured that he’d meet you at the doorway, which he didn’t.

Odd.

You’re just about to call out to him when you hear a peculiar and out-of-place sound: a moan.

Although it startles you a bit, you think that it was probably the neighbours; that doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense consdiering it’s coming from inside the apartment, but it’s more believable than…

Then you hear another one, and this time you can finally pinpoint its location. It sounds like it’s coming from the bedroom. Spencer? It’s not impossible, but you had just figured that he wouldn’t be the type to pleasure himself, especially with those sorts of reactions.

You slowly make your way towards the room in question, seeing that the door is slightly ajar, leaving a sliver for you to peer in.

What you find is a heavenly sight: Spencer, fully unclothed, splayed across the bed with his length in his fist. His pace is slow, but it’s still enough for him to whimper and moan quite audibly. His other hand is gripping tightly onto the sheets as his head pushes back against a pillow.

It’s perverted, but you feel as if you can’t tear yourself away from watching. At this point, you start to wonder if he knows you’re here or if he even heard you come into the apartment. You struggle to keep quiet as your panties grow damp, and you end up biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning at the sight.

The sound of his fist moving up and down his leaking cock is lewd, his precum dribbling down and even slightly coating his hand.

“o-oh m-mommy—” Him saying that is your breaking point, and you push the door open and enter the room.

He finally notices you and he pulls the sheets he was just grasping onto for dear life up to cover his throbbing dick. You were expecting him to do that; although what he was just doing was insanely hot, he’s still shy, even around you.

He looks away from you, clearly embarrassed he was caught. “Uh, I was— I— ah…” he attempts to explain himself but it leads nowhere. “I-I’m sorry,” he whispers, sounding defeated.

“Why are you sorry?” It’s not a needed question; you know exactly why he thinks so. You move to sit on the edge of the bed as he moves away, still having the sheets pulled up to cover himself. He stammers, but no words come out. He’s so flustered and red in his cheeks, you fear he’s about to pop.

He squirms in his position slightly while a tiny noise that you can barely hear escapes from his lips. A noise of discomfort, you recognize quickly, but you’re not sure if it’s because you just caught him in a private moment or if it’s because his cock is starting to get achy from the lack of stimulation.

“Baby,” you say in a more serious tone, leaning into the notion of his fantasy of you as his mommy, “why are you sorry?”

You stare at him, though you wish he could return your gaze. “Y-You probably feel…uncomfortable b-because—”

Softly, you shush him, holding a finger up against his lips, and you smile. “I’m not uncomfortable,” you assure him.

“You’re not?” he asks, his words vibrating against your index.

You shake your head as you pull your finger away from his lips, instead moving to grab his chin with a soft grip. His cheeks squish against your fingers softly, making his lips look even more plush and kissable. You push your lips against his gently, though it’s obvious that he’s eager from the way he pushes against your mouth to chase the kiss.

The way he whines when you pull away from him is so cute, you feel as if you want to give in to his need to have you closer to him. But he can tell that you want to do something else to satisfy him, so Spencer quiets down. Your hand, however, remains firmly yet softly gripping his jaw.

You look down at the sheets covering his lower half, his erection not-so-subtlety poking the thin fabric, and you glance back up at him. “Do you want me to…” you trail off before looking down at his boner again.

In all honesty, it takes Spencer a good second or two before he gets what you meant by that offer. “U-uh, well, ah…” he stutters. You’re not exactly sure what he wants and frankly neither is he. Based on his previous experiences with intimacy, you decide to not give him a blowjob, or even a handjob.

You both sit there in silence; you can practically cut the tension in the room with a knife. As you think of what to do — since you don’t just want to ignore it, nor do you want to leave him unsatisfied and awkward — Spencer squirms uncomfortably, shifting ever so slightly. His thighs accidentally clench together, squeezing his erection under the blanket, causing him to whimper softly. He silently hopes that you didn’t catch that noise he made, but you did…and it gave you an idea; one that will satisfy both of your urges.

“Do you wanna keep going?” You ask. He would probably much rather do this himself, although you don’t know how he would feel if he were to masturbate right in front of you.

He hesitates for a second, but he does nod shyly. You notice how he’s not meeting your gaze with his own, avoiding eye contact almost entirely. Instead, he’s looking in the direction of your waist.

Without informing him, you stand up and your hands quickly find their way to the buttons on your pants undoing them. Spencer watches with an air of anticipation and slight anxiety as you pull your pants down, a bit hastily and it definitely shows just how eager you are at this moment. Your underwear is certainly damp with how much this situation has you turned on and he can see it clearly too. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression as he sees the wetness, whether he’s nervous or intrigued, until you see him lick his lips — a motion that he only does when he’s excited.

At last, you peel off your soaked panties, but you keep your eyes on his face, wanting to see his reaction at seeing you half-naked. Sure, he’s seen you in your bra and panties before, but that was never sexual and only when you were changing clothes in front of him. He’s always looked away, the gentleman that he is, but he couldn’t resist taking a peek or two at your near-unclothed state. Just like how now, where he can see your bare pussy, glistening and wet, he just can’t resist staring.

He doesn’t mind it; no, not at all. In fact, it’s just making him even more excited, to the point where he slightly pulls down the sheets that are covering his dick — not enough to actually show his arousal, but enough to clearly see his happy trail, which has you salivating.

You get back on the bed, not bothering to take your shirt off as well. You just want to get started already, but you think it would be better if you know he’s comfortable with this whole situation first.

“Is this okay?” you ask, alluding to your nakedness as your thighs are slightly spread, giving him a nice view of your cunt.

He swallows and nods feverishly as his gaze continues to bore into your pussy; all of his attention seems to be focused there, which amuses you.

Deciding to take the initiative, your hand makes its way towards your core. You dip the tips of your fingers in your wet folds, collecting some of the slick and bringing it up to your clit, where you start to gently rub it in small and slow circles.

You hear Spencer’s breath hitch as you do this. It’s like you’re subtly encouraging him to do the same thing and start masturbating again, which is exactly what you’re going for.

He ends up pulling the covers off his pelvis completely, allowing you to see his cock-filled hand. You bite your lip at the sight of him starting to slowly stroke his length again, although timidly, as if he’s being judged. You’re not doing that, of course; you wouldn’t dare judge him for doing something so pleasing in front of you.

He keeps avoiding your gaze so you lean forward as you continue to massage your clit gently and you bring your other hand to tilt his head up by his chin to look at you. The eye contact you both have now is both awkward yet erotic. You’re not really doing anything with each other, you’re just two people touching themselves in front of the other.

A couple minutes into this shared experience, Spencer is starting to get more confident and less self-conscious. His strokes are getting longer and faster, making him produce more noises from his throat; mostly small whimpers with the occasional moan but by god, those small moans just get you going. You end up quickening your pace too and you let yourself make tiny whines too.

Eventually, your fingers move from your clit and back down to your folds, where you insert a finger into your cunt. The sound that falls from your lips after you do so is more motivation for Spencer to speed up again. You thrust your finger in and out at the same pace as his hand and you’re sure you both are imagining something more intimate at this point.

You add a second finger and then later on a third and now, a few minutes later, you’re both moving in sync and moaning up a storm. His moans are louder though, but you don’t mind at all. They just give you more reason to speed up and keep going.

Nearing the end, you’re wondering who’s going to cum first. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Spencer did so before you since he’s been jerking off for longer than you have but with the way the pleasure is building up in your stomach, you’re not entirely sure anymore; your mind is just focused on the intense pleasure and nothing else.

“O-oh god…” you hear him whine. Now you know who is going to finish first.

“You gonna cum, baby?” It takes you some effort to ask that question, especially since for the past ten or so minutes, you’ve just been touching yourselves without even talking.

“Mhm,” he hums in response as he nods. His hand is going at such a quick pace that you can clearly hear how his precum-coated palm is moving up and down his cock. “S’much, I…”

“It’s okay, honey,” you stammer out. Then, in your pleasure-fueled haze, an idea forms in your head. “You can cum. Cum for mommy~”

The use of that nickname for you really gets him going and he can no longer hold himself back. “M-mommy!” he cries out with a gasp for air as cum spurts out of the tip of his cock. He lets his head hang back and his eyelids flutter as his orgasm hits him and it’s beautiful for you to watch. It only motivates you to speed up even more, wanting to reach your peak as fast as possible. You probably shouldn’t rush it to savor the moment but in this case, rushing is fine to you.

After his intense orgasm, Spencer watches with bated breath as you cum. Your hips rock forward, practically riding your own fingers while your back arches and your murmurs grow incoherent. If he wasn’t tired, Spencer is pretty sure that he would be turned on again immediately just from watching you finger yourself. He is almost positive that you’re thinking of riding him instead of your fingers, and he would be correct in that assessment.

The pleasure slowly dissipates until you’re left with the incredibly awkward feeling of having just jerked off in front of your boyfriend. Both of you aren’t really sure what to say or what to do considering this was technically your first shared sexual experience since you had started dating.

“Um—” “So—” you both say at the same time. You don’t know how to move forward in a gracious manner, so you shyly get off the bed and put your underwear and pants back on. He still sits in the bedsheets, which are slightly damp from the sweat accumulated from the experience.

He moves towards the edge of the bed — towards you — and sits up straight, trying not to feel embarrassed that he’s still naked. And even though he felt uncomfortable about being touched while nude prior, he plants his lips on yours.

You weren’t expecting this but it’s a welcome surprise, as you chase his kiss with all the energy you have left; which isn’t a lot, but is enough. He breaks from the kiss, but leaves his forehead against yours as he looks at you like a dog.

“Thank you, mommy.”

hopefully it wasn’t that bad <3 join the taglist

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Demanding more

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Blurb: After Chrissy’s unfaithfulness to Eddie, Eddie realises that maybe he has been harbouring feelings for you for longer than he ever cared to notice. Is it too late for him to make it up to you?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Friend!Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, slight angst (I know, I’m sorry!), mutual pining, cursing, alcohol consumption, trust issues, claustrophobia, some out of character anger from Eddie, reckless fire usage, pet names, kissing. Characters are 20+

-

divider by @sxmmerberries & @reveriesources

“I need to know that you’re okay.”

Silence. A deep void of idle and infinite dark.

“I need to know that you’re going to be okay, at least…”

A plead. Bruised knees. Quaking breath. Clasped hands shaking. No rest.

“What do you want me to say? Tell me word for word and I’ll say it.” Eddie’s voice is a hoarse croak and the small light that you harbour in your chest dampens further at the sound, “I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t understand why you keep coming back to see me.”

“Because I love you.”

“Because you’re my friend.” The blade wedged into the bone of your sternum plunges further and twists mercilessly; so agonisingly paralysing that you almost wince aloud at the pain.

Red, tear burnt eyes meet yours and you internally flinch at the sight. You’ve never seen Eddie this way. So broken… so defeated.

It’s as if nettles sting at your own eyes and you blink away any moisture that threatens to gather on your waterline, “We are friends, right?” You ask again. Breathless and uncertain.

Before the chaos of the fight at the party you couldn’t remember much, so it scared you to know that you had contact with Eddie and you couldn’t remember what you had said to him. Or what he had said to you…

“Correct.” He forces a smile, just for you.

The relief that washes over you dissolves the palpable tension that smothered the air and Eddie feels his own rigidness melt away at the realisation that you weren’t the one who hurt him. Yes, you were Chrissy’s friend, but you weren’t her. You weren’t Chrissy. And you didn’t deserve this cold shoulder that he was dishing out to everyone.

He could be himself around you.

“I’m gonna be okay. You don’t have to worry about me so much.” He offers you a tight lipped smile and you return one similar except that it was full of sincerity and warmth.

“I get that I can’t change what happened, but I can be here with you and hold your hand through the storm,” you sigh softly, adverting your gaze to a nearby decaying rose. It’s petals have turned a dark wine colour and its stem has moulded, “I know what it’s like to watch someone that you lov- admire, turn their attention to someone else. Someone that isn’t you.” Your mouth sours and you feel your lips pinch downward at the corners faintly, “It gets easier with time. I’m sure you’ll find someone who’ll love you until their dying breath.”

The cool breeze lifts your hair from your knitted sweater clad shoulders, allowing the strands to flow freely behind you. You embrace the feeling of the freshness upon your skin. There was something so comforting about it. Something so freeing: like being reborn. Rejuvenated. You allow your eyes to close momentarily as you replenish yourself, letting your spirit breathe.

You quickly clam up at the sight of Eddie’s hawk like gaze fixated on your face when your eyes reopen and your cheeks flush furiously; your body’s way of punishing you for being so open and vulnerable around him.

“You seem like you’re busy,” you gesture knowingly to the scrap pieces of paper laid in front of him that had a bunch of sloppily written lyrics scored across it, “I’ll leave you be.” You punctuate your words with a brisk rise to your feet and you flatten out your jeans mindlessly that had become wrinkled from being perched cross legged on the grass. Eddie’s eyes never leave you. Not for a second.

“I’ll see you around, then?” He asks, his voice is a croak.

“Of course. I’ll see you later, Eddie.” You sling your heavy book bag over your shoulder as you prepare yourself to walk away.

He stops you in your tracks, “Call me Ed’s.” It’s evident that Eddie didn’t intend for his words to sound as desperate as they did and you try your best to ignore the plea in his voice. Out of respect for him and his situation.

“Okay.” You breathe softly with a nod and a sweet but sombre smile, “Bye, Ed’s.”

Eddie’s eyes warm as they watch you walk away and he even chuckles lightly to himself at how you look bashfully back at him over your shoulder; only to quickly dart your vision in front of you at the realisation that he was also admiring you.

And in that exact moment, Eddie can see a light at the end of this endless dark tunnel. In the form of a friend. An honest, loving and cherished friend…

You.

‘Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,

And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.’

William Shakespeare

-

Part of you felt sickeningly grateful that this had happened. As much as you hated the fact that Eddie was wounded, it gave you a feeling of opportunity. To be there for him and for him to realise how great you can be. How perfect you are for him.

However, upon witnessing his stinging red and bloodshot eyes that could only have come from his penetrative sadness you realise that you couldn’t see this as an ‘opportunity’. You couldn’t throw yourself at his feet and hope for his love to finally be requited. Not with him being so deeply hurt. So vulnerable and delicate.

Not delicate like a flower. Delicate like a bomb.

These silly ideals only happened in the fairy tales. The prince saves the princess from the wicked villain and they run off together to live happily ever after. But this was real life…

And there was no one coming to save you.

So instead, you settle for just being his friend. The friend that he has always had. The friend, that is all you’ll ever be to Edward Munson.

There comes a tricky time in your life where you just have to accept that some things will never be. They weren’t written in the stars the way you had always dreamed. Your prayers weren’t answered and all of your attempts at happiness and perfection fail.

You have to accept it. And move on.

No matter the cost. No matter how agonising. You had to ignore the gaping hole in your chest that laid bleeding all over the earth beneath your feet. Your sky tainted red with blood and fury and your tears and skin were flames. You had to endure this Hell.

For him.

And you could do it. You had walked through fire before— you were numb to the blistering heat.

But what you couldn’t handle was the claustrophobia you were feeling at The Hideout whilst you watched Eddie rock his feelings out from his bones. From his quaking soul. The low lit hall was captured in a Hellish red glowing aura and reality begins to distort around you.

“I wrote a song for a girl that wasn’t really worth my time,” Sweat glistens on Eddie’s body, dripping down the curve of his neck and from his face. His drenched black unruly curls stick to his forehead and you watch a drunken and sinister smile possess his face as he pulls a few sheets of paper from the back pocket of his distressed jeans, “And what’d you do when people waste your time?” He is handed a petrol lighter by Gareth, “You burn that shit to the fucking ground!” He screams in a rage you have never heard come from his sweet pillowy lips as he flicks the flint and engulfs the pages in hot red crimson. A strum from his guitar screeches through the space, rattling your ears and causing your heart to palpitate heavily.

The crowd goes ballistic, like wild animals and you are suddenly in a mosh pit of adrenaline surged metal heads. All banging their heads and leaping around. People grab your shoulders to try to propel themselves upward and into the band’s line of vision all whilst unknowingly forcing you down toward the linoleum ground.

Black spots fill your vision and your knees threaten to give out beneath you as you struggle to suck air into your lungs. An avalanche of sweaty body’s drowning you until you are nearly crouched onto the floor and you accept your fate as your hands brace themselves— stuck to the tarnished pattern beneath your sneakers.

“Woah, woah, woah!! Guys, c’mon! Open up! Open the fuck up! Let’s be respectful!” Eddie leaps from the stage platform and the crowd parts like the Red Sea at his presence, “Not cool man, this isn’t what we do here.” Gareth continues to drum on a beat as Eddie’s silhouette looms over you like a dark angel sent from above. His palm outstretched toward your cowering frame and you take it hesitantly; caught off guard by his strength that springs you to your feet.

“Y’alright, sweetheart? You good?” Your chest heaves for air as Eddie leads you back through the crowd and to the front of the stage, his hand clutching yours like there’s no tomorrow, “Stay right here where I can see ya.” One of his chocolate brown eyes wink at you and you feel as if you could levitate.

“Where was I? Oh, yeah! Let’s fucking do this!!” And the song continues to shock and shake the room with every pulse and strum of an instrument. The crowd returning back to how they were moments ago.

Feral.

And Eddie meant what he said. He was looking at you the entire time. Making sure you were okay.

-

“So…” you twirl a strand of your hair around your index finger. It wasn’t intentionally flirtatious, it was something you found great comfort in when you were feeling particularly on edge and Eddie had the scary capability of always putting you there: teetering on possibility of falling from the cliff side, “You really wrote a song for Chrissy?”

The stalky man hums, “Yeah. It was garbage, though. It wasn’t real… in the end.” His gentle eyes harden, “The lesson here is that not everyone deserves a song written about them. I don’t know how all the bigger musicians do it all of the time. So faux. So deluding.” He sips at a can of beer he has held loosely between his fingers, “Thank you for coming tonight. It got a bit rowdy in there.”

A set of traffic lights above your head capsulate you and Eddie in a ghoulish green haze, sharpening your features and turning Eddie’s chocolate eyes to look more like deep and black bullet holes. No light was reflected in them. They gaped and swallowed every speck.

“You have such raw talent, Ed’s. It would silly of me to not come and see you play.” You offer him a toothy grin, “Besides, when you make it to be big and famous I can say ‘Hey, I know that guy!’ And everyone will swoon and ask me for stories about you.” Your comic words cause Eddie to laugh and shake his head.

“You won’t have to tell people that you know me, Hon. I’ll be there in the flesh to solidify your fairytales.” The way Eddie spoke enchanted you. It didn’t matter what he was saying— he had this magical enticing lull to his voice that sent you into a trance of total calmness. You were incredibly smitten by him.

The pizza place across the street engulfs your nostrils with the perfume of freshly baked bread and burnt cheese. The lights on the building flicker in your peripheral and you watch as people pumped full of toxins waddle and sway their way over to it from The Hideout. Drunk and in desperate need of some grease and salt.

“You saved me tonight, Y’know? If it weren’t for you I think I would’ve been crushed to death in there.” The chilly night air around you stills, “Truly. You are my knight in shining leather, Eddie Munson.” You pinch at the sleeve of his leather jacket with a giggle and Eddie crushes his beer can with a soft smile and tosses it into a nearby trash bin.

“You’re welcome, M’lady,” He bows down in front of you, almost curtsying, “It was a treacherous journey indeed and an act of cowardly courage but it ensured your safety. So, it was a risk worth pursuing.”

He was such a nerd and his dorkiness made you laugh a little too abruptly. But it was something you loved so much about him. His ability to stay creative and to stay in touch with his inner child. His vulnerability and his strength. You admired it. You were enamoured by him.

“How are you getting home tonight? Do you have a ride?”

You shake your head, “Oh, no. I was probably going to walk and take in the night air. It’s not too late.” You give a tiny shrug of your shoulders and Eddie eyes you knowingly, his head tilted to the side.

“I can drive you. If you want?” His ringed fingers plunge into the pockets of his coat and you chew your lip in thought.

Of course you wanted him to take you home. But it was best for you to remain two steps away from him. For the safety of your own heart.

“You’ve been drinking tonight… I don’t think it would be wise for us to climb into a piece of heavy machinery together.” Eddie’s eyes flicker from you to over his right shoulder as he peeks at his van that is parked across the street a few paces away. A small yellow ticket adorns his windshield and he curses under his breath at the sight of it.

Eddie’s head bounces in the form of a nod, “You’re right. Safer that way,” He palms the back of his neck in a wringing motion, “I’ll see you soon then? Maybe you can call me when you get home… to let me know you’re okay. Obviously.”

A side of Eddie you had never seen before was beginning to unveil itself to you and you were sceptical of if it were a good thing or bad thing. He was being overly cautious and protective of you and your whereabouts. He was showing you such care and consideration. Was he using you as a rebound? Or did he genuinely worry for you?

“Yeah. Maybe.” You bite back the acid ridden annoyance in your tone, trying your best not to jump to any conclusions about Eddie’s intentions with you. But with the way he was looking at you, how were you supposed to truly know?

“I’ll wait by the phone.” He smiles so sweetly it could cause your teeth to decay— but that paranoid part of you wouldn’t allow you to enjoy this moment. The bruised pieces of your heart were telling you to run far far away. And to never look back.

“Goodnight, Eddie.” Your voice was rushed and monotonous.

“Call me, Ed’s—“

Your back is turned swifter than the gust of wind whipping at your face and hair and Eddie watches you, helplessly, as you disappear into the thick of the night with a slightly dampened heart and a small frown on his face.

-

‘Love is friendship that has caught fire.’

Ann Landers

“Hello?” Eddie’s voice sounds through the phone receiver, groggy and hoarse. Your heart does somersaults in your chest and excitement finds itself burying between your thighs.

“Did you wait by the phone?” You reply, slightly embarrassed and meek. It was now 1:30am and the night was beginning to spill into the morning. You were becoming delirious with lack of sleep and it was bleeding through every word you spoke.

“It’s you,” He chirps much more perkily now, “Did you get home alright?” You can hear a shift of fabric on the other end of the line, like a duvet cover rustling and you can only assume that Eddie was repositioning himself in bed.

“Yeah, that’s why I called, actually. I wanted to let you know I was okay. I didn’t want you to worry…” You don’t quite understand why you said it, but you did. Over the past couple of weeks Eddie had hinted at caring for you. He had given you more attention than ever before and so naturally… you thought he really did care. And that he might actually be worried about you making it home in one piece.

“Thanks.” The line goes quiet for a quick beat and it gives your paranoia every just cause to bubble to the surface.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” You finish your sentence with an unintentional gulp as your mouth longs for hydration.

“I was only dozing off a little, don’t worry about it. I’m glad you called, sweetheart.” There’s that nickname again. The one you have come to adore. You can hear his sleepy smile through the phone, “You are probably the only person who has ever called me this late,” His quiet laugh is fatigued and careful as to not alarm his uncle who is destined to be sleeping close by, “Did you enjoy the concert tonight?”

You hum, “I did.”

Eddie hums a tune back, like a bird singing you to sleep, “And what was your favourite song?”

You are quiet for a moment, reminiscent and concentrated.

“I would have to say the one about the rose. I hadn’t heard it before,” You grin to yourself, “Can you sing it for me?”

There is a shocked waver to Eddie’s deep voice, “What— like, right now?” You can sense his jitters through the telephone.

“Only the chorus…” Although he can’t see your face, you pout out your bottom lip pleadingly, “Please?”

There is another shift of movement on the other end of the line and Eddie clears his throat, full of hesitance, “Alright.” His voice is clipped, “Just remember that this debuted today so it is basically still a work in progress…”

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint his emotion, but you could tell that he was experiencing some sort of shyness and there was a slight withdrawal. He was no longer as confident as he was talking to you moments ago.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, I was only joking around—“

“No no, I want to. I’m glad you liked it… it means a lot to me, darling.”

Darling. That’s a new one.

Vibrations hit your ears as Eddie skilfully hums the tune to the song, manipulating his voice to lyrically match his beautifully dark words.

“And even if you were nothing but a wilted flower with a shrinking stem, I would still hold you close and preserve you in the worn pages of my blackened heart. The reason that I’m breathing, the love that keeps me reaping… oh.. oh oh,” He pauses for breath, “And you keep on bleeding, Oh… oh oh.”

As his words disperse into deafening silence on the phone you sit completely statue still. Almost too afraid to move. Petrified to disturb the moment. His songs were like poetry and it nearly brought you to a flood of tears.

“That was… wow…” You release a deep breath out through your nostrils, “You should consider recording an acoustic version, Ed’s, because that was… epic.”

“You think so?” He asks with shock laced in his tone and you swear you can see his brown puppy dog eyes looking right at you. But maybe they were just seared into your memory. He was embedded into your soul.

“One hundred percent.” Your fingers shakily toy with the hem of your cotton sleep shorts, the pads of your finger tips tracings the small pink love hearts that have been sewn into the light fabric and you feel a sudden surge of energy. Excitement. Adrenaline. Happiness.

“Thank you, sweetheart. You really are too kind to me.”

Before you can respond Eddie is yawning into the cavity of your ear and you can hear him struggling to keep the expression silent.

“It’s getting late,” Your eyes follow the coiled wire attached to your phone as they search for the clock on your night stand. It now read 1:55am, “I understand if you want to try and hit the hay. Early bird gets the worm, right?”

“We can chat a little longer, if you’d like?” He suggests casually, “I’m usually a night owl anyways, it’s the booze making me a little drowsy but it’s wearing off. Can feel it.”

You bite back a shit-eating smile.

“I’d like that. How about we stay on the line until 2:15am and then we can call it quits?” You come to sit up on your mattress in a cross legged position, your legs comfortably sitting in a basket as you move yourself closer to the phone receiver, “Deal?”

There’s a brief pause.

“Deal.”

-

The blood orange rays slicing through your bedroom curtains awoke you rudely and you rapidly blink away the sunlight, almost blinded by its intensity. The sound of bird wings flapping into fight filled the eerily quiet atmosphere of your room and a loud groan vibrates from your tired throat as you force yourself up into a stretch with your arms extended above your head.

You were optimistic about the day until you caught a glimpse through the glass and saw the rain dancing devilishly against the concrete. It’s was as though the water mocked you. With every hellish dance it thundered against the ground your feelings for Eddie only grew fonder. It grinned evilly in your face with every feeble attempt you made to forget him. A reminder that no matter what you did, he would always be there. He would always possess your soul. Your efforts would always ultimately fail.

By the time you burst into your morning lecture you are soaked to the bone from head to toe. Your hair sticks in drenched ringlets to your shivering goosebump covered skin and the fabric of your clothes cling for dear life to your limbs. No corner of your body was left unseen. Every curve prominent and protruding.

“You’re late.” Professor Hunter snarls distastefully beneath his breath, his Dublin accent bleeding through as you pass by his large dark oak stained desk to a free seat. He smelt of lingering coffee breath and musk; almost like he had smoked a cigarette moments before entering the room and washed it down with an americano. His black hair was pinstriped with grey, patterned like a skunks tail and his face was covered in messy prickly looking stubble. His blue eyes were heavily lidded as they searched your face in annoyance, longing for a poor excuse for your short coming with his square glasses braced on the bridge of his slender nose.

“I’m only 3 minutes late—“

“Still. You showed up late to my lecture.”

“I’m sorry, I—“ He cuts you off, again.

“Don’t let it happen again.”

You bite your tongue, swallowing your backbone alongside every word you wished to say. As you sunk further into the green plush pillow of the velvet seat beneath you and your clothes slowly dried to be somewhat bearable you felt a heat growing on the back of your head and your mind filled with the inkling that someone was looking at you.

Mustering the strength to look back over your shoulder your breath catches in your throat at the two chestnut eyes that are staring right back at you. Eddie is shameless with his gaze and you fumble beneath it. Your cheeks heat to boiling point and your legs twitch toward the auditorium door; prepared to run, if needed.

Eddie’s lips twitch at the corners and you can tell within that very moment that he is biting back a laugh. It triggers something within you, a spontaneous and contagious response that causes your own shoulders to tremble as you try and contain a chuckle. Normally, you would take a scolding from a lecturer seriously but something about the whole situation humoured you in an abnormal way. You were giggling at something totally mediocre and you blamed Munson.

“What’s so funny, doll?” Your urge to erupt into a fit of laughter like a volcanic explosion subsides and dies quickly as your eyes settle on the male next to you.

Shaggy ringlets fall effortlessly to frame his perfectly blush cheeks and intense blue eyes narrow in on your features, making you retract and become comically still. His eyes were fire in water, filled to the brim with raging anger bubbling below their surface— like a tormented ocean battling against jagged rocks.

Billy Hargrove.

Billy fucking Hargrove had parked his denim clad ass right next to you.

You had heard the things about him. The craze surrounding his reputation. You knew what it was like to have his knuckles fracture your jaw— all because someone had told you about it in explicit detail.

You would never forgive Chrissy for explaining to you in intricate analysis what his dick felt like and what it looked like after their hook up before she sunk her claws into Eddie. She always felt the need to boast about those things to you— to make you feel inferior. And it worked a large majority of the time.

Billy smelt soil-rich with a hint of apple blossom and you found yourself fixated on the dark thickness of his eyebrows. So sharp and clean, like a knife, “Fine, don’t tell me.” He rolls his eyes at you and begins to tap the end of his pencil against the arm of his chair, “Better hope you weren’t laughing at me, though, sweetie.”

“No, I wasn’t laughing at you. I would never— why would I?” You wheeze nervously, your arms crossed over your chest as your finger nails dig into the plush flesh of your bicep.

Billy shrugs his massive meaty shoulders, his crystal like hues focusing on the hints of rain that still lingered in your hair and on your clothes, “You must be freezing, sat there in damp clothes. You want this? I’m not gonna wear it.” You stare doe eyed at the denim jacket he holds clutched tightly in his grasp, his fist outstretched toward you.

You eye him cautiously for a moment, waiting to see if he will withdraw his offer and laugh in your face but he doesn’t. In fact, he smiles at you and now you are left to question every piece of information you thought you knew about Billy.

Shakily, your own fingers wrap around the rough fabric as you take the jacket from him. A burgundy settles on your cheeks and you whisper a meek, “Thank you.” Which Billy only nods in response at.

You know it was just an innocent gesture and that there is no way Billy Hargrove would be remotely interested in you like that but still you couldn’t stop the ridiculous dark colour from painting your cheeks maroon as you slid your arms through the sleeves of his coat. A hushed sigh of relief washes over your body as warmth envelops you kindly.

And as Eddie watched from a few rows behind you, like a stranger looking through someone’s window. He knew. In that very moment, Eddie knew. Every whisper that his heart made that he quickly shut down because he was afraid and foolish. Every beaming smile that nearly split his face in half the moment he saw you from across the room. His sweaty palms and his over protective nature around you. It all finally made sense. Puzzle pieces clicking together effortlessly, almost mocking him with their clarity. He had overlooked them for so long. These signs that all pointed in the same direction; to you.

It angered him. His stupidity, immaturity and ignorance raged him in a way he had never felt before. His fury came like an impossible build up of steam which burnt his insides on its way out. And he deserved it. Every scolding piece of black tar that stuck itself to his flesh.

Anger, sadness, pain— so intertwined that perhaps their names ought to be tweaked to reflect the origins of those emotions. To show their raw authenticity and truth.

Eddie had lied to himself. He had led himself a stray. He had pulled the wool over his own two eyes and completely missed the angel that had been in front of him this entire time. Even when he was in a relationship with Chrissy, he felt that something had shifted that day at the movie theatre. Something unchangeable and unshakeable. He just wasn’t sure what it was.

This was the epiphany. His world stood still and everyone else seemed to fade from his vision into total nothingness as he admired you from afar.

But was he too late to tell you? Did you still feel anything for him? Because from where he was standing, it seemed as if you were ready to move on to someone new. Someone better than he is.

The saddest part was that he just wanted to see you happy. To see you smiling genuinely. For your eyes to light up and scrunch at the corners. For you to be as loved as much as you love others. As much as you loved him.

He had to tell you. Even if it would break his heart to hear you say that you didn’t want him anymore. Even if it felt like he was on the brink of death, walking barefoot along the sharp blade of a lengthy sword. He would bleed for you. He would paint himself scarlet in exchange for your love.

-

Thunder clapped the sky and lightning lit the murky clouds momentarily with lavender purple as it zapped through the air. Water was still pelting heavily onto the concrete and you dreaded the idea of having to walk 20 minutes to get back home. Classes had flown by and now you were waiting by the large glass exit, staring aimlessly out at how ferocious Mother Nature could truly be. That’s when a shadowy reflection appeared next to you.

“In need of a chariot ride, M’ lady?” As you turn to look over your shoulder you are met with Eddie’s signature Cheshire Cat smile and your heart does leaps and bounds in your chest, “This time around I am totally 100% sober, so the journey should be a pleasant one. No one’s lives are at risk...” Your mind flicks back to the night of his gig and how uncontrollable your powerful feelings multiplied for him. You were reminded of the sour fact that Eddie would never feel this way about you— he wouldn’t feel as tortured as you did with his close proximity. It was agony. Having him so close and yet so far. Your fingertips just out of reach.

Eddie was gazing at you like you were miles away but in reality you're only a few feet in front of him. His stare is hard, intense, but also melting and blank. As if he were on another planet and you somehow were the one who transported him there.

“I would really appreciate that, Ed’s. But only if you’re sure? My house is pretty out of the way…” You were currently living at home with your parents but you had been searching online for apartments closer to the campus grounds, considering you’ll be attending classes for the next three years of your life. Some of which looked as though they were pulled from your wildest dreams. Warm and whimsical. You just had to save up enough for the deposit and luckily you had started work at a close by diner as a waitress. The hourly rate was shitty but the tips were great; especially from the regulars who liked you.

“I would never leave you to walk home in that storm, love. Besides, it’s been a few days since I’ve seen you so I thought we can hang out for a little bit,” You watch as Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down nervously, “I’ll let you pick the music?”

An offer he knew that you couldn’t refuse.

“Even Kate Bush?” You always had a cassette tape of hers in your backpack with your walk-man.

A dramatic pause embraces Eddie.

“Yes. Even Kate Bush.” He offers you a tight lipped smile.

And just like that, you were sold.

It was a torrential race to get to the car without getting totally soaked but once you were both inside you burst into a fit of giggles, laboured breaths filling the small space as you watched the water stream down the front windscreen endlessly, “Wow, it really is chucking it down!” You try to smooth out your rain streaked hair and you tuck it behind your ears, shivering at the mere sight of the trees swaying back and forth with the strong wind. The sound of Eddie clipping in his seat belt draws your attention over to him and you ultimately find yourself unable to look anywhere else. You were a crow to Eddie’s shimmer. A moth to his flame. You were a girl who was freezing a moment ago and now it’s as if sunshine has met your skin and you no longer felt a thing.

“Remember your seatbelt.” Boldly, Eddie decides to reach over your frame and click you securely into the plush passenger seat, his fingers running under the belt across your lap as he pulled the strap tightly over your body. Corseting your into place. His touch lingers near you for a moment and you could have sworn you saw Eddie’s eyes flash with something foreign. Something distant and hidden. But whatever it was, he kept it tucked away.

He killed it.

“Are you warm enough? I can crank this bad boy up a notch if you want.” He plays with the AC thermostat, the tip of his tongue darted out to rest on his bottom lip in total concentration as warm air eventually starts blasting toward you and instantly your tense muscles relax.

“That’s lovely, thank you.” It was already beginning to get dark outside and there was something oddly comforting about listening to the rain pour down onto the metal roof of Eddie’s van as you both sat in total silence with one another. In the low light, just basking in the peace of one another’s presence, “I could stay like this forever.” Your thumbs fumble with each other.

“Yeah,” Your eyes meet his, “Me too, sweetheart.” It was strange to think that one singular persons existence could bring you so much fulfilment and happiness. As you looked at Eddie now, your soul smiled along side your mouth. Everything leading up to this simple moment felt right. Prophesied. Etched into ancient stone. Your love for Eddie would die with you. And even from the grave, you would push up roses that would bloom to spell his name.

“Eddie…” You had been here before. Confessing. Pleading. Rationalising. Chasing. You were sure he would listen this time— you were almost certain that he would actually talk to you about your feelings for him. Maybe his opinions of you had changed. Maybe… maybe he felt the same way.

“Yeah?” Masterfully, Eddie hid the hopeful jitter in his voice. And unfortunately, it was just enough for you to back step fully and keep your thoughts to yourself

“You… you remember where I live, right? I can totally give you directions if not. No biggie.” The three words you longed to say burrowed themselves back down into your chest, your heart spluttering and coughing as they forced their way back inside; where they’d remain for the foreseeable future.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie’s chest also tightened with disappointment and devastation. But he had faith, and he knew that the right moment would come. Even if he had to initiate it.

“Of course I do— sort of… maybe? Okay, you may need to direct me a tiny bit.” His index finger and thumb pinch together momentarily to signify the minuscule amount of direction he may need from you and you smile knowingly at him. Content.

“Shall we see to it?” You gesture toward the road.

“We shall.” Eddie grins cockily as he shifts his rust bucket into gear and speeds off into the road, chuckling at the quick intake of breath he hears come from you as you gasp at a nearby car beeping at Eddie’s abrupt merge into traffic, “Relax, I’m a great driver. Promise. I could do this with my eyes closed—“

“Don’t you dare!” You squeal and Eddie’s nose crinkles as he laughs full heartedly beside you.

“Sweetheart, relax!! I would never endanger you like that…” He winks slyly at you and you shake your head with the hugest smile adoring your face. Adrenaline floods your veins from your near panic attack moments ago and you run your fingertips through your damp and tangled hair; slightly stressed.

That’s when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the winged side mirror and your heart plummets quickly to the pit of your stomach. Your mascara had streaked down your face and your hair was a bird nest upon your head from the wind and rain. Your clothes looked tattered and ruined and you couldn’t believe you hadn’t sorted yourself out sooner. Eddie was right next to you and you looked like a hot bag of dogshit.

“You could’ve told me I had mascara under my eyes,” You try to joke it off with a feeble laugh, wiping your fingers furiously across the delicate skin of your under eyes in an attempt to make yourself look half presentable but you knew that this wasn’t an easy fix, “God, I look a mess.” You gnaw on your bottom lip to contain your sudden urge to cry.

“What? No you don’t, not at all!” Eddie’s thick eyebrows knit together on his forehead, “I thought that was the look you were going for, honest! You were rocking it!” Eddie’s attempt to lighten the mood fails and a newfound panic washes over him, “You are beautiful all the same, hon. Cross my heart.” Eddie’s ears are met with a ringing silence as your eyes fixate on the road ahead and he swears in that moment he can hear your heart shatter.

You recognised the street and you knew that your house was now close by. Just a little further. Any minute now you would be able to feel despair openly and free of judgement; all you had to do was make it home and get far away from the curly haired man next to you.

“Sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice is so soft, like silk being brushed across your skin as he pulls the van into your driveway. It makes you want to vomit.

“I’ll catch you later, Ed’s.” Your words shake as they leave your throat and you dive from the passenger seat at an alarming speed but Eddie is just as quick to follow after you. Hot on your heels with his engine left grumbling in the distance behind him.

“Wait— please stop!” His ringed fingers hook hastily and strongly around your wrist, stilling your movements as he whips you around to meet his towering frame.

You jerk your arm away from his grasp gently but he remains planted, “Please let me go inside, Eddie,” Your tears mix with the tears falling from the clouds above you and Eddie swallows thickly, trying to remain as calm as he possibly could but his raging heart and the frog in his throat was heavily preventing that, “Please—“

“You need to hear this.” Your dripping lips part in total awe as you watch Eddie become restless in front of you— his inner turmoil mirroring the storm beating down onto the pair of you, “I… fuck.. I..” He grapples with himself and you watch him search frantically for the right words. Eddie wanted this to be perfect. But that’s the thing— he wasn’t perfect. And he would never be perfect.

“Fuck it. Fuck it!!” His inky eyes ignite and suddenly he is so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating from his skin, “I’m in love with you. I’m so desperately in love with you.”

“There is no perfect lover. We are all flawed, but knowing those flaws and still loving with all of your heart creates perfect love. I will never look further than you. If my heart is a flower waiting to bloom, your love is the only breath of sunshine it needs.” Both of your hands end up rested in Eddie’s palms as his thumbs stroke over each of your knuckles, “I have been foolish. Completely moronic— because I hadn’t noticed this before. I hadn’t acknowledged my own feelings for you. And you don’t have to say anything… but you should know, love.”

You have gone into complete shock. Your limbs feel as though they are weighed down by chunky chains and your throat doesn’t allow you to speak. But your eyes… your eyes are blown to the size of teacup saucers. Gaping open wide.

“I’ve tried to bury it, to push you out, but even the ground beneath me trembles with your name! I love you… I’ve loved you for a long time, I think, and I understand if you no longer feel the same about me. I have left you waiting— I have starved you of love and I only wish you happiness. I want you to be so fucking happy, baby.”

Baby. He called you baby. And now you are floating above your body like a ghost trapped between heaven and earth.

“Are… are you sure?” You’re crying now and your vision blurs with the salty water. Your mascara stings your eyes and you have to battle the urge to collapse to your knees in front of him. This is all you have ever wanted for the longest time. You have counted down the milliseconds leading up to this. And now it’s here… and you don’t know if Eddie is being sincere or not.

"You don’t get it, do you? Every time I walk away, the ground pulls me back toward you like I’m tethered to this place, to you!" Eddie let’s go of your hands and you feel like your only form of support has left you defenceless. His heavy black leather boots slap against the concrete as he paces in front of you, “‘Am I sure?’ Of course I am! Of course I’m sure, sweetheart. I am drawn to you in a way that can only be described as witch craft. I am under a spell that I never want to awake from. You are the only person I ever want to talk to— the only person I want to be around. You are all that matters to me. I want to know what you do in the mornings and what perfume you like to wear. I ache to know your every thought and what makes you laugh— and what makes you cry.” Eddie is breathless as his body swoops back toward yours and his palms find your face as he cups your cheeks steadily, his eyes dart all over your face, trying to figure out which part of you he want to set his eyes on the most but it's impossible.

“My heart belongs to you. It always has; I was just too blind to see it. And if you never want to see me again I will respect that. But you had to know.” Eddie breaks down into a sob, the thought alone of losing you causes his heart to crumble into dust inside of his chest, “You had to know that I love you.”

Both of your eyelids fall closed and Eddie rests his soaked forehead against yours. His breathing is erratic and your fingertips cling to the denim his overcoat. Grasping on for dear life, “I love you, Eddie. Oh Eddie, My Eddie— you have no idea how long I have prayed for this moment. To hear those words. Those three fucking words.” You let out a noise that can only be described as half a cry and half a laugh and Eddie joins you, “I love you more than words can explain.”

Eddie recoils his face away from yours and for a moment you are frightened as you watch his expression harden into something more serious, “Sweetheart, can I kiss you?”

And as the words emit past his lips, your worry dissolves into total ecstasy.

“Please— kiss me and never stop.”

You had never imagined this is how your first kiss with Eddie would play out. In your drive way and in the pouring rain. It was beyond perfect. Something that you could watch on a movie screen. The old romance you loved to read about—but this time, it was yours.

Yours and Eddie’s.

You never wanted this fever dream to end; and thankfully, it never had to.

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae @sidthedollface2 @kellsck @your-nightmaredoll @purplewitchcauldron @manitskatrina @georgeweasleyslostearhq

[ninikrumbs]

what gave it away?

Satoru gojo x dense reader. fluff.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest, the honored one. The world practically shifted on its axis the moment he was born. Curses feared him, fellow sorcerers respected him, and women swoon at the mere sight of him. He is indispensable in the battle field and the head of one of the three prominent families in the Jujutsu World meaning he was rich beyond his means. Yet to your bewilderment, here he was, standing in your little kitchen, cooking an omelet for you, with fresh coffee ready in the pot. The morning light made his snowy hair look radiant, his eyes glowing, and a small smile decorating his lips. He looked absolutely ethereal.

A hand on the hip of his luxury pants, another on your cute pastel pink spatula, eyes so focused on his task before he saw you eyeing him at the corner of his eyes. Instantly all his focus directed to you, a gentle smile forming on his face. And it was a type of smile that reached his eyes, nothing but pure contentment grace his beautiful features. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

You felt something clicked in your head, but like a missing puzzle piece you didn’t even know you were looking for. Almost speechless, you mumbled a low good morning back.

“Morning.” you eye him suspiciously as you slowly sat down on the bar stool in front of your kitchen island. He did not seem to notice your sudden perplexities of him as you studied him intently.

"Satoru, why are you here?” you asked hesitantly, propping your hands on your chin.

He looked at you, blue eyes puzzled as he turned off the stove. “What do you mean? I vaguely remember offering to cook you breakfast yesterday. Did ya forget?”

You shake your head. “No, I meant why are you cooking breakfast for me?”

Confusion and worry graced his features as he gazed at you intently, his eyes wandering all of over your face. “Are you okay? Feeling sick?”

His hand flew to your forehead before replacing it with his own forehead. You pulled away from his close proximity, your cheeks burning before clumsily saying “That is not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

You sighed. The sight of Gojo in his teachers uniform in your kitchen was a common occurrence, but it hasn't occurred to you until now about the why. Why is he in your kitchen during the mornings, cooking you breakfast? Why is he randomly giving you flowers,cause he thought you would like them? Why would he drop a mission for you because he thought you were sick?

You always thought that Gojo's act of services were just the results of a life long friendship built on mutual respect and trust, and of course you liked to think you did care and love each other on a platonic level, but could it be something else?

The late night visits after his missions, the endless souvenirs, the unabashed physical affection. His sulky moments when you don’t give him your attention and how he always tries to make you happy. Were you really this dense?

Your head tilted to the side, pure and utter disbelief in your voice as you speak, “You’re in love with me.”

Surprise passed his features. His bright azure eyes wide, and jaw falling slightly slacked. He was silent for a moment, before giving a low chuckle. “What gave it away?”

Now, It was your turn to be taken aback. He wasn’t even trying to denying it, in fact he looked relieved like a weight was lifted off his shoulder. His lips curved into a teasing smile, but his eyes. Oh his eyes, they were full of unfiltered adoration.

“You are?” You breathed in disbelief. Did he really shower you with his love all this time without ever knowing that it was gonna be reciprocated?

He huffed a laugh before making his way to you, squeezing himself between your thighs and pressed his forehead against yours. “For a couple of years now, thought you’d never notice.”

[jinkoh]

if I could hold my breath around you

hyunjae x gn!reader

tags: fwb (enemies with benefits) to lovers, college au, some angst some fluff, suggestive, heavily implied sexy times, making out/kissing, warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption

wc: 1.8k

a/n: been listening to just exist by eliza&the delusionals and boy did it make me delusional

Masterlist

There weren’t many things Hyunjae and you could agree on. In fact there were only a few people you could relate to as little as him. You differed in everything from the music you liked and the hobbies you pursued to the way you thought your shared group project should be handled. To your own and your friends' dismay you kept clashing at almost every meeting, unable to find any shared ground. But in all this dissonance you could at least agree on one shared truth: You absolutely hated each other.

“Fuck, I love you,” Hyunjae breathed into the skin of your neck, his fingers digging into your hips that’d been grinding into his clothed crotch just a millisecond ago. But now you were frozen in place, staring at him in shock while his lips left sloppy kisses beneath your jaw.

“What?” you asked.

He looked up at you with a dazed expression, momentarily stopping his ministrations. "Hm?"

“Jae, you just said you love me.”

Hyunjae’s eyes widened before he let out an awkward chuckle. “Did I? Well, never trust what people say during sex, right?”

“So, you don’t? Love me?”

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes clearly searching yours for some kind of clue that told him the right answer, as if there was any. “I—listen,” he finally pressed out, “this whole arrangement has been really confusing for me, okay?”

“Oh god,” you let out a breathy laugh, more disbelief than amusement, “you’re in love with me. Lee Jaehyun is in love with me.”

“Don’t call me like that,” he murmured, no longer meeting your gaze. And then, after a small pause, “So, I take it the feeling’s not mutual?”

“God, no! Hyunjae, I hate you!”

He winced at the harsh words, and you suddenly felt sorry for him. You moved from where you’d been straddling his hips, adjusting your clothes and letting yourself fall onto the mattress next to him instead. “Fine, maybe hate is a little strong but—that's how it's supposed to be, isn’t it? I never thought you'd—I don't know. We're supposed to hate each other!"

“It doesn’t have to be that way, though.” There was a pout on his face and it shouldn’t look so cute to you but it did. “I mean we get along in bed just fine, don’t we? Why can’t we try that outside the bedroom too?”

“But we—what would the others think?”

For a moment he just stared at you and it was clear that he was feeling hurt. He pressed his lips together tightly before pushing himself off your bed and slipping back into his t-shirt that’d landed on the floor at some point. “Really?” He shook his head with a huff, “That’s what matters to you right now?”

“Jae—”

“No, it’s fine, you made yourself clear. I’ll find the way out.”

You barely remembered how this stupid arrangement between the two of you had started. Maybe because the both of you had been drunk the first time it had happened, the constant quarreling suddenly turning into a different kind of tension that had you stumbling into some guest room at a party, spitting out insults in between heated kisses. From there it had somewhat taken on a life of its own, and you’d ended up in bed together more often than you were willing to admit. You’d kept telling yourself just one more time, this will really be the last, but the sex was just too good to call it quits. Hyunjae had you figured out so quickly, knowing exactly which buttons to press. And there was also something so satisfying about seeing the guy you hated feel good beneath your touch, moaning out your name…

Still, through all of this you’d been convinced that you didn’t care, not about the arrangement and even less about him. But now that it was suddenly over, you found yourself oddly unhappy. It wasn’t just the sex that was gone, it was like your whole relationship had changed overnight. Hyunjae avoided you when he could, and he didn’t bother arguing with you during the group project meetings anymore. You’d never thought you’d ever miss it, but you did. The way he was just shrugging now, even when you directly asked his opinion was infuriating. It was as if he didn’t care enough anymore to argue back and that was a more painful experience than expected.

“What has you so distracted recently?” Chanhee looked at you, clearly a little upset that you hadn’t been listening to whatever story he’d been telling to you and Eric. You'd met up with them in between classes to pass the time before the next lecture.

“Nothing much. Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Forget about it,” he huffed but you knew he wouldn’t hold a grudge about something like this.

“Oh,” Eric suddenly exclaimed, “Isn’t that Hyunjae? Feels like I’ve barely seen him these days!”

Before you could say anything, he waved him over and to your surprise Hyunjae actually walked over, even if he looked a little reluctant about it, even more so after this gaze briefly met yours.

“Hey,” he greeted sheepishly, hands shoved into his pockets and shoulders pulled up.

“What’s up with you these days, man? You’re barely ever around.”

“Nothing much,” he vaguely replied. “Just been busy.”

You felt Chanhee’s gaze on you, but you made a point of not returning it, worried that he had somehow, magically figured something out. Instead you tried to make eye contact with Hyunjae, hoping to somehow communicate to him that you wanted to talk, but he never looked your way at all.

“That sucks. But still, you should show your face more,” Eric pouted. "We're about to go eat, are you coming?"

“I’m actually on the go right now, just wanted to say hello real quick.”

“For real?!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed awkwardly. He still didn’t look at you. “I’ll join you next time?”

“You better keep your word!”

“Of course,” Hyunjae smiled and it looked so forced it drove you mad. “Bye then.”

“Jae, I—” you pressed out, taking a timid step forward, reaching for him, but your voice was too quiet and he was already five steps ahead. You lowered your hand in defeat, mouth firmly shut. What were you trying to do anyway?

“Jae?” Chanhee asked with raised eyebrows. “Since when have you been calling him Jae?”

“Huh? Oh, no, I was going to—” But you couldn’t come up with a sensible excuse. Your brain had more pressing things to think about. “No, forget it.”

You’d always felt like Hyunjae was everywhere, constantly annoying you wherever you went, but now it was suddenly so hard to find the tiniest chance to speak with him. Another one had just slipped right through your fingers. Did that mean this was it? That you’d never speak again? That you’d never kiss again?

You couldn’t let that happen.

“Y/n, you are coming to the cafeteria with us though, right?” Eric asked but you barely registered it.

“Excuse me for a bit,” you mumbled, already rushing after Hyunjae.

“Why is everyone behaving so weird nowadays?” you could still hear Eric’s voice.

“It’s not everyone,” Chanhee argued, “It’s just those two.”

“Jae, wait!” You were out of breath when you finally caught up to him. He stopped, but your hand instinctively grabbed the sleeve of his sweater anyway, scared that he’ll just walk away again without hearing you out.

"What?! What do you—" His voice was harsh, but the moment he met your desperate gaze he softened up, "what do you still want with me, y/n?"

"You're avoiding me."

"Well, yes?"

"Why?"

He almost laughed. "What do you mean why? You didn't want me, y/n, and that's fine, it's fine, but expecting me to act like nothing happened is a little mean, even for you, isn’t it?"

You wanted to say something, explain to him why he still shouldn't ignore you. But you couldn't. He was right. You'd clearly rejected him, so why were you running after him now? You should leave him be, give him some space.

And yet, the fingers holding onto his sleeve tightened their grip.

"Give me a break, y/n," he sounded tired. "Just go and live your life and do your own thing. Without me."

"I can't," it almost immediately broke out of you. "Trust me, if I could just exist without you, it would make it easier, for the both of us. But I can't, I—," your voice broke and you hadn't even noticed that tears had welled up in your eyes, but they were already spilling out, running down your cheeks. "I tried, but I can't. You're constantly in my head and I keep wondering if maybe I am on your mind too or if you're already over me and—I miss how we used to banter and I miss your dumb remarks and I miss kissing you and I just miss you, Jae. I miss you so."

For a moment he stayed silent. You didn't dare to meet his gaze, so you kept your head down, watching your tears dropping to the ground one by one. You realized somewhere in the back of your mind how embarrassing this was for the both of you considering you were still on campus. But you couldn't bring yourself to really care.

"I miss you," you pressed out again, unable to endure the silence.

"I'm not," he replied and his voice sounded hoarse too, but you barely registered that over the meaning of his words. He didn’t. He didn't miss you. Your fingers finally let go of his sleeve, but before you could pull away your hand he caught it in his own.

"I'm not over you, I'm so clearly not over you. Do you think I'd be avoiding you if I was? I just—you didn’t want me."

You almost violently shook your head. "I was wrong. I was all wrong. I want you, badly, so please don't avoid me anymore."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Badly?"

"So badly," you nodded, desperate to make him believe you.

"How do I know it's true? You have a record of being wrong, after all," he said and you were ready to assure him over and over again, but when you looked up he had a mischievous grin on his lips.

"You're mocking me," you complained with a pout.

"Didn't you say you missed our banter?"

Not like this! you wanted to argue, but then he cupped your jaw and leaned in close and it made the words die on your tongue.

"I also missed it," he whispered and you felt the words fan over your skin, "and I missed kissing you, too."

And then he did just that, kissing you all soft and sweet the way boyfriends do.

"Fuck," you breathed into his lips, "I love you."

Masterlist

[spider-mancan]

peter and tony are broken up and everyone knows it. nick fury knew it when he made peter accept this mission, his teammates knew it when they piled into the jet, and tony knew it when he sat down as far from peter as possible

peter is awkward on a good day but he's not sure he can handle being side-eyed by the most powerful people in the world. black widow's round kick has nothing on her disapproving look, but peter does his best not to pay attention.

he wasn't even the one to break up with tony. it was mutual, after months of barely finding time for each other. peter had tried, but with college and...who is he kidding? if tony wanted to make it work, he would have.

with that in mind, peter tries not to stare at tony through the reflection in the glass and tony tries flirt with the flight attendant and only one of them is successful.

the mission goes fine. peter almost expected to be useless, but considering about 75% of the fight happening on scaffolding, he was much more active than expected.

peter doesn't think about getting thrown off by a ninja (which, like okay, that's pretty cool) and being caught by tony. he would have caught himself just fine, but he hadn't even hit free fall before his nearly brained himself on tony's chest plate. and then tony did the extremely predictable thing and told him to pay more attention and didn't flip his face plate up but peter knew it was a little derisive but he still really wanted to see tony's face, just a little.

he wasn't handling the break up well.

afterwards peter is sitting on the ambulance passing out shock blankets to hostages and tony shoots a syringe of pain medication into peter's forearm before peter realizes its happening

"you threw your shoulder out," tony says.

"you shouldn't be stabbing people when you're not a doctor," peter replies dully, even though he's pretty sure he tore his trap. tony opens his mouth and peters cuts him off because it's familiar. "not THAT kind of doctor."

tony wipes off the bead of blood on peter's arm from the needle. its a little useless, since the suit is torn and his skin is greasy with sweat and blood. "take better care of yourself, then."

peter scoffs, because tony is even worse than peter is. when he asks karen, friday snitches on the limp tony is hiding with the armor -- old knee injury. peter knew about it because there was a time when he knew everything about tony.

he could count the moles on tony's thigh and trace the shape of tony's scars and now its been four months since tony really looked him in the eye. its been longer than that since they talked about something that meant anything.

its another week before peter gathers the nerve to take the suit to tony for repairs.

he wonders if tony is still limping, or if someone held tony down and took him to medbay. tony had stayed in the area by himself after the mission to schmooze, and peter had flown back with a pleasantly numb arm and the avengers trying to figure out if peter did something wrong.

it doesn't matter when peter says nothing happened, or reminds them that the breakout was both mutual and none of their business. bruce is the only one mature enough to tell peter that tony is miserable, so clearly it wasn't really mutual at all.

well, it's great that he's miserable. they were miserable together too, because peter always thought tony missed the thread of women in and out his door and tony proved him right by putting out the queue line as soon as he was single

"don't trust all those articles," pepper told him, near the end.

peter thought it was mean, so he didn't say it out loud, but he wasn't sure he could trust tony either, since tony wouldn't talk to him.

it was childish. in the moment, peter and tony both knew peter was being childish. four months later, peter knows he was being childish -- it's also childish of him to hesitate outside the door of the lab, psyching himself up like he's about to go to war.

it's just tony. peter tells himself that for two days before he shows up at the tower, and he's telling himself that now, even though tony has never been Just Tony and peter is childish and he misses him and peter didn't want to break up but he's scared and he's lonely.

friday opens the door before peter knocks. tony looks up in alarm, double-take, and then cooly goes back to sewing up the kevlar on widow's uniform. "long time no see, kid."

its not warm, but it warms peter. he's awkward, quiet, and smooths the suit out flat on the worktable that was his until it wasn't. there's still web fluid stuck on the corner. tony left his photos up on the wall.

peter watches tony finish widow's suit, and the wordlessly passes the spider suit over and watches tony run his fingers over the torn fibers. "next time it will be better," tony tells them both. "next time it won't tear."

after two hours, peter brings tony a sandwich, pats dum-e on the head, and says, "i think i'm still in love with you," and it's quiet except for the sizzle of the solder gun.

and tony just puts his tools down and looks at peter and his eyes are a little wet and his jaw is clenched. "don't do this, pete." and a few years ago maybe peter wouldn't have but this is important enough that he doesn't care what tony has to say about it.

"i just...wanted you to tell me i was crazy," peter admits. "i thought...it wasn't about the--the girls. i know that...i know that you wouldn't. didn't." the clock ticks. tony doesn't say anything, and peter clears his throat. "i just...missed you. i was angry. i don't know."

"i'm an old man," tony tells him. "i'm not interested in playing around anymore. i'm not going to be alive long enough to play around--don't tell me i'm wrong." he's not even looking at peter, but they know each other backwards and forwards, and he knows peter will tell him off.

"i'd bring you back," peter says quietly. he's never thought about it until now, but he would. he knows that he would. "even if you hated me. if you never forgive more or...well. i would bring you back."

"i don't know if that's what i'd want." tony picks up the gun again and returns to working on the circuitry, lovingly crafted to protect the love of his life, even if the thought makes him choke. "i'm just saying, kid, that this is it for me."

"you have a funny way of showing it." peter won't pretend he's not bitter. tony ignored his calls and cancelled plans and then swept peter up in his arms and kissed him and then disappeared again, like a ghost. like a man on the run.

"you're it for me," tony says again, eyes on his work, "and that terrifies me."

peter is still sitting on his stool and his workbench, hands folded in his lap like he's getting scolded. but he can't stop himself from scowling. "why? we want the same things, so why is it...why are you terrified?"

"i can't be the guy on your posters, pete." the circuit sparks and tony tosses the soldering gun away with a huff. dum-e whirrs over to pick it up and tony runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. "you're so young. i can't predict what you're going to want in ten, twenty years."

"i don't need you to." peter consciously relaxes his hands, smoothing them over the rough denim of his jeans. sweaty. nervous. pointed. "i just need you to be here."

tony curses, and then his stool is kicked over and he's rounding his workbench and he's pulling on peter's clothes and he's burying his face in peter's neck and breathing so deep, like he's been drowning and now he's on the shore.

peter is apologizing and tony is telling him not to, and tony might be crying or maybe the collar of peter's shirt is just mysteriously damp, but when peter pulls back and kisses tony's cheek and his nose and his forehead it's good. it's so good.

"it's been so horrible," tony groans, and then cups peter's face and kisses his mouth, sweet. it's just as good. "it's been the worst four months since i was dying that one time."

and peter punches tony lightly on the side and then sighs into the kiss like he's been longing to.

[eddiediazismyhusband]

just a caual reminder that eddie does not need to kiss, date, or sleep with anyone other than buck to make his queerness any more valid

queer characters don’t need to hookup a bunch of times and date around before settling down because queer people irl don’t have to do that either

there are other ways a character can “let loose” and blow off steam than just throwing them into a hookup plotline, and doing so with eddie would just rehash the buck 1.0 plotline and would be lazy writing

not to mention it being yet another roadblock for buddie canon

like ik it can be frustrating to see the writers refusing to give eddie any care within the story and giving him some sort of happy arc, but that doesn’t mean that the only way he can be happy is by simply dating a man… just like how bt isnt narratively satisfying, eddie dating a random man isn’t going to be narratively satisfying either… i want queer eddie as much as the next person and honestly, if it had been a few seasons ago maybe i wouldn’t be as apprehensive to this kind of arc, but this show isn’t going to last forever… i don’t want them to keep dragging buddie out convoluting the plot by bringing in more li’s for both of them just because the fans are “okay with stepping stone relationships”

we’re entering season 8. we’re entering the 7th year of buddie being a ship. we don’t have time nor need for stepping stone relationships anymore. i know that jealousy and mutual pining arcs are enjoyable, but atp anything prolonging them getting together is just risking us never getting buddie… i don’t want a repeat of s6 where they wind up with shit engame li’s bc they wasted too much damn time dragging their feet and giving them these rando love interests

we also run the risk of fans jumping ship again if eddie were to get a male li that isn’t buck because there are so many people out there who (like w bt) just wanna see eddie kiss a man and once they get that, they’ll ditch the buddie ship, and we’ll once again find ourselves struggling to stay afloat

yes ik this show is a drama, ik slowburns thrive off drama, but this slowburn has been building since s3 (arguably s2 for some of us) it has been beyond enough time for them to keep it a slowburn; they need to actually go through with it now rather than continuing to bait us bc Ryan and Oliver both deserve better storylines to play than that.

i am obviously trying to remain cautious and will not trust the writers to handle things well until they do, but it doesn’t help our cause to be suggesting storylines this late in the game that will only serve to convolute the plot even more than it already is at this point. these tropes are amazing in fics that have no set end date, but 9-1-1 as a show is not going to run forever— we don’t even know if we are even going to get a 9th season yet. This could very well be our last opportunity to get buddie canon, and cheering on plotlines that would push buddie canon even further back on the roster is only going to dilute our chances even more.

i say this with love, not with spite, but i have seen a lot of people wishing for/posting about how they hope to see these storylines play out and i’m here to say we are not in a position for any of these anymore, and that’s just the unfortunate reality of a show entering its 8th season in a television environment where shows are lucky to get past 2 or 3 seasons.

[shiny-jr]

Hellooo I found your work and have been binging it all and I saw that you didn't mind the feedback, so here goes

The retainer!mc felt too much like the YA book trope of 'edgy' Mc, like trying to show a cool and collected vibe but ends up like bella from twilight in a not so flattering way, the others felt like they did something or had the bases for the cast obsession on them to grow, this mc for me missed the mark, and I did felt like stopping mid read because I found them uninteresting, but all the others delivered for me so, I wanted to know how it ended

Also in a post you said about the retainer being important to vil, then shouldn't he show a threat or something to the new one? At least suspicion I guess, it felt to smooth for the MC unlike others

Anon, I saw this message not long after you sent it, but as mentioned in the last post, I got so busy I couldn't respond. But trust me when I say this: your words haunted me.

Don't worry, I'm not offended at all. I welcome the criticism, but goddamn this one... Look, usually when I get criticism, I nod, go "aight", and move on. I don't get offended when people critique my works. But yours legit made me clutch my heart? My pearls? Idk. I was baffled. That one kinda hurted, not gonna lie.

Let me tell you, I've been writing since about 2016. I like to think I have definitely improved. I've gotten countless messages and comments in the years since. Some good, some bad, most good, a few worse. However, I have never really cared in the sense where it stuck with me. But bro, when I tell you this felt like a slap in the face. A bucket of cold icy water being dumped on my head. Don't worry though. It was a probably well deserved metaphorical slap.

The point is, your words were at the back of my head for like a week. I actually discussed it with a mutual, and I think I figured it out. I wrote Pomefiore differently. Pomefiore is the sole result that just feels like its for the simps, probably because I was thinking of them the most when writing it. It was unintentional, I think, but that's the reason I came up with my mind.

Anyways, like I said, not at all offended. Just kinda an eye-opening comment, I suppose. I'm not really bothered if it's not your favorite, because a lot of other people seem to like it. And if there's one thing I learned after years of writing, is that you cannot win them all. No matter what you write, it won't appeal to everyone. That's literally impossible.

Okay, I digress, this has dragged on for too long, but I feel like I had to get that out there and share my response. Again, anon, thank you for your words! I appreciate it, even if it doesn't seem like it.

[saschax]

Hello! I hope you are in good health.

I was wondering, can you do an alphabet with Ghost? Please, and thank you.

Take your time! <3

hello, and i am in good health.

yes, and your welcome..

i hope this is okay, my first time doing this!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

ghost is not affectionate, at all. he is the opposite, antisocial, distant, detached.. reader will only find him affectionate if he's delirious or drunk.

and if reader happens to find him in either situations- which is rare, he'll show affections by just.. touching. he's touch starved, and since he is in a delirious or drunken state, he doesn't know what he's doing.

most likely will pass out, with his head into your neck.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

hm, best friend..?

you'll have to be in the team, task force 141. otherwise, ghost does not interact with strangers. now, best frienddss?...

years, years of work together. years of staying alive, and mutual respect.

be admirable! be impressive, try and catch his eye. if you manages to beat him in sort some of a competition, he'll respect you more.

( i personally think you can beat him if you play your cards right. i think ghost is a risk-taker, so.. use that to your advantage.. i guess. )

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

no.

gO aWay! he'll throw you across the room if you fuckin' cuddle with him! he has claustrophobia, and help me god if you lay on top of him-

anyways, no. no cuddling.

go.

get out.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

NO, no and nO!

he is an workaholic, and his friends dying- might i add, in front of him, only encouraged him to pursue his work.

he is guilty, he feels like their deaths is his fault. and to honour their deaths, he'll continue his line of work.

running away from his work is cowardiance, and a disgrace to his friends' deaths.

no. if he settles down, he can't bear the haunting grief setting on him.

he lives, and got to settle down.

they didn't.

and he (didn't) caused their deaths.

he doesn't deserve to settle down and rest, not after all he done.

the souls of his friends' faces looking at him, with teary eyes. saying "why are you resting?? after you got us killed?? why aren't you getting revenge for us?? you traitor-"

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

straight up to your face. he seen much worse. he'll just bluntly say "i'm done with you, its over."

he has nothing to lose.. well, he lied.

he's not over, he just wanted to end the relationship because he doesn't deserve this, and he feels like you could get a better guy.

a whole man, not half of a man; like him, a shell of a human being.

and he is sort of holding you back from touching him, he doesn't trust you very much either.. so this relationship is hardly beneficial to both parties.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

he is very committed.

not.

if he thinks you're going to dump him, he'll dump you first- to save him from the pain of abandonment.

no marriages, he'd cry, crumble and break again if he sees you in a wedding dress.

he doesn't deserve this, go away go away go away-

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

physically, he's.. cautious but not? for example, if you and him are training. he'll go sheer hard and will use everything he have against you.

no exceptions.

a woman? who cares, lets fight. you're in a goddamn military for fuck's sake. no one is going to go easy on you in real combat.

( you get hurt alot because of him )

EMOTIONALLY?

eMOtIONALLY??

this man, is stone hard, cold, blunt, brash, sassy, and act like he HATES you with his GUTS. he does not let you close. sure, he'll say a few words here and there, but he's not actively revealing his personality to you.

stone cold, ghost.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

hates hugs. it reminds him of his family, roach and johnny all at the same time.

never, he doesn't do it once. even if you and him are best friends. you tried hugging him once (he was having a mental breakdown), he punched you square in the face and shakily left the room.

.. no one knows how his hugs are like, everyone who felt his embrace died and never could tell the story.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

never, and not fast at all. he hates that word too. again, his past.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

doesn't really gets jealous? more like sad if he sees you hanging out with another man more.

abandonment, but again, he did keep pushing you away..

his fault, i guess.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

he never kissed. i dont know.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

i think he is a gentle man when it comes to them, he looks out for them of course. but he doesn't really .. hug.. or do affectionate behaviors- bending down, makes him smaller- less frightening to the kids- he doesn't really do this.

more like a guard dog around them.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

you dont know, he's never there when you wakes up. he's up and gone.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

he appears rarely. and if he is sleeping next to you, he'll have some sort of barrier (aka, pillows) blocking you from touching/reaching out to him.

you keep waking up because he keeps squirming.

you get used to this eventually.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

I DO not think ghost will reveal things about himself.

he'll just be a different character around you, but never exactly saying his identity (aka, age, full name, how his parents was like, his backstory, etc). just more softer, kinder, and more.. willing if he warms up to you.

does. not. share. his emotions.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

he's very patient, a patient man indeed. no.

he's not patient, he just sounds patient. inside, he's angry.

and every now and then, you'll encounter his outbursts on you. bottled up feelings, leashing hell.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

remembers everything, but he will forget sometimes.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

when he made you laugh, a geninue laugh. it felt nice to make someone happy and not make them upset/sad/annoyed.. y'know...

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

he's protective but not. depends. if you're hanging with a friend, he won't be "HmMmm, ARE YOU SUSPSICOIOUSS???" or try to y'know, get you away.

how? get a guard dog, and he'll also train you about self defense, and what-to-do if this happens.

does not feel the need to be protected by you, and he thinks its a bit offensive. you think he can't protect himself??

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

he does put a lot of effort, however, no dates, or anniversaries...

he'll give you plenties of gfits!

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

a really bad texter, so expect to get left on read often.. and! staring.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

not insecure about his looks, he knows he looks good. but he is a bit nervous when it comes to showing his scars.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

he's already incomplete, wouldn't make any difference. although, it does make a slightly more void in his life.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

doesn't sleep often. he's the type to just..stare at his ceiling or longue around in his room and wait til another mission comes up or something.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

dislikes laziness, in terms of your work ethic. likes somebody who is as committed and hard-working as he is to their job.

HATES. betrayals (also one of the reason why he doesn't quit his working)!! and he does not like dependent people.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

he usually fall asleep on sofas, or on uncomfortable things. the bed is wayy too soft for him, not used to it..

NEED SOME LIGHT ON!! in the dark, he sees faces and it creeps him out.

he doesn't like it, so he need some light if he want to sleep better.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting my fiancé to hang out with my sister and I?

Okay so my fiancé (22f) offered to drive to Mexico with her aunt and stay a couple days. It was only three days notice and she hadn't discussed it with me(24f) at all. I do think she should go, she's been wanting a vacation lately and been really upset because I can't afford to go anywhere. It's a good opportunity to get vacation and family time. I was really happy for her. I just feel like it's basic politeness to at least let me know before she gave a definitive yes since we live together so I was slightly annoyed.

Fast forward two days and it seemed like that plan wasn't going to work out because her aunt wanted to postpone, so instead she decided to go out of town with her brother (18) since she had gotten her hopes up about a vacation, which again sounded like a good idea. In the meantime I'd set up a sleepover with my sister that same weekend.

Without even mentioning the situation to me, my fiancé posted on snapchat asking if a third person wanted to go with them to keep the costs down, which would be fine if she hadn't posted it to her story. Its okay if someone else goes but maybe asking in a groupchat or a few people individually but not absolutely everyone.

So of course her ex (who she has readily admitted shes left multiple people for) asked to go. It isn't her fault that her ex is the only one who offered but also that's part of the reason why I would have asked her to ask more directly than every single person she has on snapchat.

She asked me if I was comfortable with that which was nice, and I said not really because of the nature of their relationship. The only times we've hung out, my fiancé ended up being super cold and hostile to me and laughing her ass off at inside jokes with her. I get that they have a history and I don't expect her to pretend they dont, but it just makes me uncomfortable when we're all together because I feel like a third wheel to the person I'm engaged to and her ex girlfriend.

She got upset and said I was being unfair and ruining her weekend. I told her it was fine if she could find literally anyone else and that frankly it was inappropriate for her ex to even ask. She got argumentative about how she's been hanging out with her ex for years because they have mutual friends (which is fair except the mutual friends are not invited) and that her ex didnt even know I wouldnt be there. The argument lasted another two days. She kept saying that I am being too controlling, which I dont think is fair because if she didnt care about my feelings then why ask about them. I just gave up and said it was fine. I'd be having fun with my sister anyway so I wouldn't spend the whole time worrying, and I trust her not to cheat on me I just think it's a weird situation and it makes me uncomfortable, which is what she asked.

As soon as I said yes she told me it was too late to book an airbnb so she wasn't going to go, and that really upset me because she'd been so angry about me being uncomfortable that she wouldn't leave me alone for days and what was even the point of all that if she wasn't going to go anyway and she already decided that.

During the past 4 days until canceling suddenly like that, she was 100% supposed to be going out of town to somewhere, and I had gotten really excited about my sleepover with my sister. We were going to do things that my fiancé does not enjoy (arts and crafts, watching period movies) since it would be just us and also have some much needed sister time.

All of a sudden, the next day, my fiancé asked if she could come over too since she wasn't going anywhere. I said "I guess, but we were going to do stuff that you wouldn't like." And she got mad and told me I was being super rude and I could have been nice about it, which I thought I had been and I told her I feel like if she came either she wouldn't have fun or we wouldn't get to do the stuff that we were planning to. She was still angry all night and kept saying she obviously didn't want to come now since she wasn't welcome. I barely slept because she was so clearly upset with me and I didn't see any way to fix things without ruining my night with my sister.

The day before the sleepover she kept hinting that she wanted me to invite her and I really didn't want to. Maybe before all this stuff but I am really annoyed with all of this and I don't want he to butt in on my sisters night.

I think she's been inconsiderate and mean to me over this whole thing. I just don't get her thought process with any of it. But she seems really sad and that does make me think maybe I'm being the asshole here.

So AITA for not wanting my fiancé to hang out with my sister and I?

What are these acronyms?

[zoros-bandana]

Hi Dove! I’m so happy that ur requests are open!!! So may I please request angst to fluff with Sanji where reader (female please) and Sanji had a fight about something (you can choose and they are together) and then the next day they were ambushed by the marines, reader saw that there was a marine about to creep up to Sanji and she took the hit for Sanji, it was kind of a big slash to the stomach and reader fainted after a while because of the loss of blood and Sanji got angry and began fighting more aggresively? Timeskip after the whole thing Chopper patches up the reader but Chopper said its gonna leave a scar on her body (specifically the stomach). Sanji felt so guilty and keeps apologizing to the reader and reader said that its okay and some other comforting words to Sanji and eventually also says sorry about the fight they had the day before. In the end Sanji takes care of the reader while she recovers. Thank you!!

Sour

(SFW)

Slight angst/slight fluff

Warning: mention of relationship fighting, mention of physical fighting, mention of blood, mention of wound

Summary: Sanji's drifting eye had froze the minute he saw you, however, when it returned, it became a rude awakening. Ending you both in a turn of anguish and hurt.

Word Count: 1,800

Your relationship with Sanji was effortless.

He was kind, as he was with any female he encountered, but with you it was something different. From the moment you joined the Straw Hats there was a sense of relief around him, freeing your once twisted past like loose ends, breaking free of what weighed you down.

And for Sanji it was mutual.

He acted differently.

The once love-sick cook had no longer any desire for anybody besides you, confusing the rest of the crew. He no longer ran after Nami or Robin, simply treating them like he did with the rest of the crew; competent and helpful. His spare time would be swooning over you and granting your every wish, making his priorities realign to appease his girl.

Nothing was too big or too small for him.

That was why, as you docked onto the island of Goruden for supplies, your relationship turned an unexpected sour.

It was a beautiful island, full of warmth and depth, casting every inch of the land in a glow from the sun. And much like the land itself, the people were just as beautiful.

You had taken off with Sanji in tow, heading towards the markets for a restock of food and drinks; a few crew mates tagging along with the hopes of promised luxuries. Upon your search, Sanji's gaze had drifted, taken aback by a tall women with long vibrant blonde hair. Her skin glistened like bronze, covered in a set of orange fabric that draped carefully over her curves. Her face was soft, kind, blushing a smile that drew you in with the faint tickle of her laugh.

Sanji reluctantly let go of your hand, for mere moments, assisting the women as he struggled to hold her basket of overflowing fruits. The sickening crack in Sanji's voice returned, knowing he was in awe of the women in front of him. Feeling betrayed by his actions, you retreated back into the group, shielding yourself from your boyfriend. Your whole body felt heavy, almost on the verge of fainting, fighting the urge to snap at him. You never imagined he would fall back to his old ways, only ever hearing stories of his behaviour, trusting your relationship was stronger than his urges.

But you were wrong.

You kept your distance from Sanji, walking a few steps ahead, clinging onto Zoro and Luffy; knowing it would annoy him the most. His voice continued to ring out to you, over and over, attempting to apologise for his misbehaviour. His stomach tied in knots the moment he realised what he had done, almost in a trance by her aura, unbeknown he was doing it until it was too late. The look on your face as he watched you sink further behind the swordsman broke his heart. He never wished to hurt you, knowing how deeply your trust for him ran, and how devastatingly hard it was for you to trust someone again.

This game of avoidance continued through the day, carrying into the late hours of the night aboard the ship. It was agreed to venture in the morning, leaving the island, giving into the night to rest; sleeping apart from your usual shared bed with Sanji.

Sanji did, however, continue bombarding you with displays of love, hoping to persuade you to come back to him, but his efforts were met short. You had watch the man you love fall back on his estranged love-struck patterns he promised were behind him, making your mind up to sit in the loathing bitterness of your hurt.

Word quickly spread of a pirates arrival to the island, prompting a worried call for marines to surround the ship early into the hours of the morning. It was a heavy blow, drunkenly guiding yourself to the deck just before sunrise, watching your friends already mid battle. Heavy clatters of swords and fired bullets rumbled your hearing, quickly snapping into action to join in the weave of intense crowd to defend your honoured ship.

A sharp snap of blond hair and fire shifted your attention, recognising Sanji's perfectly poised mannerism even in the midst of a fight. Meeting his bright blue eyes you exchanged a silent word, both relieved of each others safety in that moment; still bearing love for one another. Distracted for mere moments, Sanji's position became vulnerable, letting an open on his left switch your attention to the sword coming down towards him.

Your overall skill of endurance surpassed the likes of your boyfriend, quickening your reflexes for a perfect wing of defence to your crew. Snapping into action you took off, racing against the wielded marine to reach the still unsuspecting Sanji.

As you collided with the marine, you disarmed him with a few simple manoeuvres, relieved of your quick defences. He hit the deck in front of you, instantly passing out from the blow which deemed unusually large for someone of your size.

Dusting yourself off you looked back at Sanji, furrowing your brow upon his sickened look.

Sanji's eyes casted at your stomach, his face a ghostly white, mumbling out your name as he grasped your arm tightly. You followed his eyes to your stomach, noticing the large gash that spanned over your full abdomen, seeping through a heavy brown as blood oozed from your wound. Dazed in shock you zoned out, feeling your body shake into the likes of a collapse. You could still feel Sanji near you, his body inching closer in worry, his hands in the stage of lifting you into his arms. Fluttering your eyes you tried to mumble out your confusion, not grasping how the marine managed to reach you in time to cause such a heavy injury. However, your efforts were met short, your body giving in under the loss of blood and soon passing out in Sanji’s arms.

You awoke groggily on your back, fluttering up at the familiar ceiling of the infirmary. Your body rose in a searing pain, targeting your tightly bandaged abdomen, forcing you to groan out. Your voice prompted the answer of two voices, those of people you recognised well, turning your head towards the sounds.

Chopper and Sanji sat by your side, both exchanging a mixed look of relief and joy, leaning in towards your groggy state.

“You’re awake” Sanji smiled, reaching out towards your hand. “I’m so glad to see your face again. You’ve been out of it for a while, we were getting worried”

Squeezing gently you slid your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. It felt almost impossible to speak, your pain heaving heavy gasps for air as you tried to make sense of what was happening around you.

“Everyone else is okay, Y/n” Chopper encouraged, checking over your IV lines; prompted by your obvious pained state. “You just worry about getting better. That wound is pretty deep and it will leave a scar, so don’t move around too much while it heals”

Turning around to face Sanji, Chopper toughened his voice, raising it to make him seem bigger. “You make sure she stays safe, okay? And follow everything I told you earlier! She needs to keep still as much as she can”

“You don’t have to worry about her, Chopper, I'll look after her. There should be some cake up in the kitchen for your efforts, go and help yourself for helping my sweet Y/n-swan”

Chopper squealed in excitement, quickly running towards the door in a flash on fur. As his body hit the deck his voice was followed by the usual kitchen thief’s; Luffy and Usopp.

Returning his attention back to you, Sanji’s face softened, lowering his head to avoid your face in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I should’ve been there to protect you, to help defend you against that deranged marine. Someone who has the audacity to lay a hand on a women, especially someone like you, truely deserves the worst possibly death”

“I’m also sorry about our fight; about how I acted” Sanji looked back up then. “I need you to know I never meant to hurt you or betray your trust. I helped her because I could never turn my back on a lady in need, and in those few moments even though my attention was on her, all I could think about was you. Her basket carried all your favourite fruits, down to the loose handful of grapes that I know you would happily fight our captain for. The crease beside her eyes when she smiled at me was something reminiscent of how you look at me when I make you laugh. Her hair was curled just the way that your hair does in the morning, framing your face when you look at me. There will never be a moment when I don’t think about you and how much you mean to me. You are my girl, Y/n, and nothing is going to take that away from you”

Fighting against your body you pushed yourself up, ignoring Sanji's protest to rest, moving to sit upright; the stack of pillows behind you cushion your fallback. You cleared you throat promptly, ignoring the surging sting as you coughed, busting enough strength to speak.

"I'm sorry, too"

You voice broke in a quiet groan.

"What are you talking about, Y/n? You didn't do an-"

"I'm sorry for the way I handled seeing you with somebody else. I know you, it feels like I have done more than this lifetime, and your hearty intentions to be kind to women. I know you wouldn't do anything to jeopardise our relationship, and I'm sorry I felt the need to avoid your apology. I was hurt, and too stuck in my own feelings to face this problem, because when I see you I see someone who I don't wish to lose"

"You will never lose me, okay?" Sanji promised, moving himself to sit beside you on the bed. He leaned forward over your body, his hand resting beside you, face inches from your own. "I'm not going anywhere, my love. I will be here for you through good and bad and nobody will ever come between us, no matter how many loose grapes are in their basket"

Sanji swiftly moved to you, sweeping you up in a soft kiss. His lips were always the perfect mould, curling against you in the most plump and soft folds, feeling somewhat like heaven. His taste remained the same, lingers of smoke dancing on his tongue as he deepened the kiss, working to build a familiar rise of butterflies in your stomach. As he pulled away, a soft pucker left behind a kind smile, relieved to have put the fight behind him and move forward; working towards getting you better.

"I love you, so much, never forget how much you mean to me and how much I value us." He looked up towards the IV bag, noting the drop in liquid from the bag, furrowing his brow. "Now if you will excuse me, I have a doctor to collect and a girlfriend to heal"

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Pizzicato

Chapter Nineteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela, Dean/Cas (unrequited)

Other characters: Miriam Talbot (OFC Bela's mother)

Word Count: 2567

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, putting out other people's fires, and old baggage, unbeta'd

A/N: Castiel and Trouble's friendship is something I didn't realize she had been missing until he was in front of her. There are a couple of big truth bombs in this chapter and I hope I handled them respectfully. This is an AU and it is not indicative of this author's feelings on canon or any other fandom shipping practices.

Series Masterlist

Posting on Dean’s instagram account was par for the course as the band’s publicist. You bothered to know what a hashtag was, for one. For another it also allowed you to check traffic on posts and actively moderate things to help the comment section look best for Dean’s image. Afterall, Dean trusted you, you weren’t going to leak anything or make him look like an idiot.

You were a goddamn professional and this wasn’t the hardest thing you’d done in the last year, but Jesus fuck were you pissed.

Dean hated tattoos. Really, he hated needles. He was black out drunk when he and Sam got their matching flaming pentagrams. He actually had a panic attack the next morning after realizing he let someone “sew ink” into his skin. By sheer force of will and through the bond of shared grief, you got him to go with you for Jo’s memorial tattoo on the tenth anniversary of her death. It was in your all-time top five ultimate Dean-Y/N memories.

And now it meant jack shit.

You edited and cropped the photos, sent two back to Bela to post on her account and then posted the lion’s share onto Dean’s, making him look like the diligent boyfriend while Bela was busy in the chair. You thanked Billie for taking care of “his girl” and made sure the shop was the location and tagged. You wanted to punch something, it looked so good. Then you sat back and let the interwebs do its job.

Okay, in actuality, you emailed about twenty different people, had a conference call with the tour management marketing team, scheduled radio station drop ins and followed up with Meg on the expected release of Dean’s photoshoot and interview. These days it may just end up online, but you hoped she was able to score him real physical print space.

It was just as you were winding down for the night, when your phone rang. It was past any reasonable business hours and you were already done with your skin care routine, but then you saw the caller id.

“Miriam! Hi!” You tried to sound pleasantly surprised.

“Don’t Miriam me, young lady. What is going on out there? Is it drugs? I thought we missed this stage when she quit acting for college. You’d tell me if this hoodlum was pressuring her into risky behavior wouldn’t you?”

Which was a lot to unpack right off the bat like that, luckily you had experience dealing with Bela’s mother.

“It’s just a tattoo. She’s not on drugs, I promise.”

“And what about this Dean? I knew they were seeing each other, but this seemed a bit more intimate— not exactly in the public eye.”

Oh, she was good.

“He’s not on drugs either. And—- he actually isn’t thrilled with tattoos. This might be all Bela, if I’m being honest.”

“Have you seen the things they’re saying? The things they’re calling her, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes and heaved yourself out of bed, you needed your laptop if you were going to continue this conversation rationally. 

“Let me look into it— what site were you on?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. Olivette, one of the boardmember’s wives, told me she read about it online during dinner.”

You inhaled deeply and started your usual rotation of sites, you’d have to add some new tags to follow Bela’s buzz more closely going forward. 

“And you’re sure this wasn’t just bad blood from Olivia? I’m not finding much besides general surprise.”

“It’s Olivette. And yes, I’m certain. She wouldn’t make me worry without a reason.”

And then you realized what you were missing, it wasn’t just People or TMZ you had to worry about. You went to Hello!’s twitter and you found what had Miriam Talbot’s friend in a huff. 

You started scanning the comments, gathering the most common complaints and judging their amount of influence via cursory glances. You did not know a lot of the news personalities or celebrity bloggers in the UK. You were going to have to meet with Bela and figure out a better approach going forward.

“Okay, Miriam, it’s almost eleven here. I know you probably called me as soon as you woke up, but consider me on the case. Alright? Bela’s fine and this is just a minor hiccup.”

“If you’re sure, Y/N, dear.”

You sighed. “Of course. I would warn you if there was anything to worry about. But please just let this run its course. You know how the tabloids are.”

“Unfortunately I do, that’s why I called. Please keep me updated if anything else comes up?”

“Will do. You have a good ni-day!”

“Goodnight dear— and thank you.”

You smiled at your lap. “Anytime.”

You let her hang up. Then you promptly pulled up your contacts list and warned Bela that her mother was sniffing about online and to call her at a decent hour. And finally, you spent the next four hours (or so) online until you had swam to the bottom of the cesspool and decided it wasn’t worth your time. At least not right then, not so exhausted.

Three days passed since the snobby UK gossip rags’ judgment rained down and, as expected, it had already just about fizzled out. You sat in a cafe with a quad shot flat white, waiting for your lunch date to arrive. Not truly a date, though it wasn’t a meeting either.

It was a diplomatic mission.

Then you spotted him and your stomach swooped, feeling the loss of his presence in your life all over again.

“Hey, Cas.” You stood and held your arms open for a hug, which he accepted with a timid smile.

“It’s good to see you, Trouble,” his gravelly voice murmured in your ear. He still smelled the same.

You pulled back and looked him in the eye, searching for anything but the sincere blue reality in front of you. He held no grudges, not with you, without even discussing it you knew he was still your friend. 

You then punched him squarely in the shoulder. “That’s for ghosting us all for the last nine months, assbutt!”

He grunted, and rolled his eyes. “I can accept that.”

“Good. Because I missed you. We all miss you.”

He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows in challenge.

“So— heard you have a kid, huh. That’s —- weird.”

Castiel exhaled and shook his head. “Who told you?”

“What? Nobody. I have eyes. And spend enough time online to draw some conclusions.”

“Kelly told you.”

“She didn’t have to. She’s amazing by the way— are you a thing now, now that you know he exists?”

Castiel looked affronted. “Me and Kelly? Oh, no. That was a teenage mistake. We were young. And we’ve both matured into vastly different people. But I respect her and I think— I hope I’ve earned her trust.”

“Tell me about him—- he’s what? Twenty-twenty one?”

“He’s twenty three and very talented. Kind, impossibly optimistic even.”

“Yikes, tough combo out here.”

“Tell me about it.”

You shared a look and he smiled at you like he knew what you were thinking about. Like you were reliving the same joke.

You blinked away the sting in your eyes.

“Go get your dark roast and get back over here, we’ve got things to discuss.”

His eyes softened, but Cas didn’t argue with you.

You sipped your drink and tried not to let all of the questions that had been building for months run away from you. He was back both too quickly and too slowly. You cleared your throat, the awkwardness you had been fighting back rushed to the surface.

“So— I presume there is more to you calling to get lunch. Not just asking about Jack and goading me about my latest tattoo?” Cas wasn’t one for small talk.

You nodded and swallowed around another perfect mouthful of milk and espresso.

Castiel’s face went through a journey when you didn’t quickly reply. “He doesn’t want to see me—- he made that quite clear.”

“And what about since everything?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know Dean’s called you. He might not have been big enough to actually apologize in a voicemail, but I know he wants to fix things— he misses you as his friend, too.”

“Then he should be able to suck up his pride and make the effort,” Cas snipped, the first sign of the lingering anger from his and Dean’s fight.

“I haven’t exactly seen much of your effort. Do you not want to fix things?--- And I’m not talking about coming back to the band— that ship has sailed. I’m talking about twenty years of friendships you just walked out on.”

Cas stared at his coffee, his eyebrow ring arched with his bitchy expression. He hated being corrected, you knew that. But this had gone on long enough.

“I’ve spoken with everyone but Dean,” Cas explained. “It’s not perfect, but it’s progress.”

“You never spoke to me,” you spat.

Cas’ eyes softened again. “I always knew where your loyalties lie, you took your time, too.”

“Wait— even SAM?!”

“Sam and I haven’t lost contact this whole time.”

You sucked in air. “Oh, he is so dead.”

“Y/N. It wasn’t like we were plotting or anything. He was worried about me, I was worried about Dean.”

“Yeah, but if Dean knew—”

“Ask Sam, but I don’t think he could hide anything from Dean if he wanted to.”

You knew he was right. Ever since Sam got sober, transparency had been something Sam put into his closest relationships anyway. Beside Dean being ruthless and stubborn, well, you supposed Cas was right. 

“Why do I feel like this band just doesn’t want me to be able to do my job?”

“Your position as group therapist is fairly tenuous. Especially with Pamela involved.”

“I meant my real job. If I had known you were on decent terms with, well, everyone but Dean, it would have made things a lot easier, young man.” You couldn’t help but smile now. Sure you were hurt, but the eggshells you had been stepping over for so long really only took up a single corner of the floor.

It was freeing.

“I never meant to cause you any distress.”

“That doesn’t make it go away, Cas.”

He bowed his head, but popped back up to meet your gaze. “I know. I apologize. I didn’t want you to think that I was done— with any of you.”

You pinched your eyes closed quickly and then reached over the table to squeeze his forearm. “Okay. So— you’ll come to Dean’s birthday party, then?”

Cas patted your hand with his left and sat back, breaking the contact and sat with the invitation for a heavy moment.

“What makes you think he’d want me there?”

You glared at him, all tattooed and handsome and absolutely clueless about how much his absence has affected Dean. Sure, Dean got to keep the band, but it wasn’t the same without Cas. Cas has had to start over entirely, become a dad and rebuild his career all without any of the support Dean has had around him through his own troubles.

“Look— I know you’re Mister Independent and I don’t want to set back any of the progress you’ve made without him needing you around. But he still looks for you whenever we all go out. And hanging out with Kevin, made it abundantly clear to him that you were available— you just weren’t interested.”

“Why do you always make it sound like we were an item?”

You rolled your eyes. “Look, we all know Dean has attachment issues. I’m not saying anything was kinky between you guys— that’s not my business. But, as friends, you guys deserve to at least get some answers— closure or forgiveness can come later, if you get there.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that to get me off your case?”

“Yes, really.”

You smirked and Cas’ smiled with his eyes, fidgeting his lip ring with his tongue.

Cas cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee before changing gears. “So, your friend Bela and, uh, Dean?”

You groaned and hid your eyes in your hand. When you looked up he was laughing at you.

“What?!”

“Stop— we both know what it’s all about.”

“Kevin seems to think Dean’s whipped.” Mischief continued to dance in Cas’ eyes.

“Well, it’s about time.”

“I told him, the only one who has had Dean whipped in over a decade is you.”

You choked on your spit, sputtering at Cas’ bluntness.

“They don’t know it’s for show do they?”

You inhaled deeply. “Sam knows. Dean and Bela have their own private agreement about it all. But, uh, yeah, you pretty much guessed right.”

Cas watched you thoughtfully, futzing with his lip ring with his top teeth now. 

“How are you holding up?”

“Me? I’m fine, why?”

Cas nudged your ankle under the table with his combat boot.

“As someone who was definitely in love with him for most of my life— I know the symptoms.”

You sighed and shivered at being seen and having your long held suspicions confirmed. You rubbed your upper arm, trying to fight the goosebumps. “I’m fine. Nothing has changed. He’s just been working on himself and that is— distracting.”

Cas hummed, head cocking to the side as if looking at you with a different angle would give him more insight.

“I mean it. He’s in therapy and everything. Sam and him are working out. He’s been insanely focused on the latest album—”

“He’s doing penance.”

“Maybe. But he wants to be better. It’s not just guilt. I don’t know how to explain it. But, you’ll see what I mean.”

Cas eyebrow popped up again.

“You will,” you insisted.

“You always were able to read me weren’t you?”

You chuckled at the back of your mouth, short and knowing. “Guess it comes with being stuck with each other for so long.”

“Shared trauma response,” Cas teased.

“Or that.”

You finished the last of your drink and looked around the cafe.

“So, where we going to eat? I think we’ve had enough heavy— sushi?”

“You buying?”

“Phantom Traveler is covering this as a business lunch.”

Cas stood and pushed in his chair. “Okay, well then, bring on the seafood.”

You stood and let Cas walk you outside, his hand on the small of your back until he could offer you his elbow on the sidewalk. You smiled up at him and pulled him tight to your side.

“I’m glad you’re back, Cas.”

“Well, we’ll see if everyone agrees with you, won’t we?”

The afternoon passed quickly, catching up and sharing memories that were now tinted with the grief of the last lost year. Things made more sense the longer you thought about how the band had been acting, especially way back at the Animal Shelter where Cas’ niece had been more than willing to put in her two cents. You texted Sam while you waited for your meals, warning him where you were and what you knew.

‘Have fun.’

His only response. Asshole.

But everything kept from you, kept from Dean, wouldn’t last forever. It couldn’t. Now you at least could control the narrative a bit more by being in on it all. Or most of it at least.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Twenty: Arpeggio

[nichoskittycorner]

It Takes Two ( A Nichojoo threesome smut)

  >> After having a drunk (and sober) heart-to-heart, Nicholas agrees to help his best friend, Euijoo, learn and explore a possible kink he has that's been on his mind for years. 

>> threesome: Nicholas x Reader x Euijoo, bf! Nicholas, degradation, oral & penetrative sex, anal sex, dp (double penetration), edging, Is Euijoo a cuck? Who knows, mentions of alcohol, exhibitionism, dom!Nicholas, virgin!Euijoo,

>> Word count: 3.6k

A/N: Thank another dream I had…

>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<

  Nicholas couldn't believe what he was hearing. Sure he was a little drunk, but the words that came from his best friend's mouth had him shocked.

  "S-say that one more time, but slower…"

  Euijoo, placing the half-empty soju bottle down and sighing, ran his hand through his hair. Even he didn't believe the words that had slipped through his lips actually did. 

  For years, he's had a fantasy, (A kink perhaps?) that he couldn't shake from his mind. Sure he could've asked any random set of strangers but Nicholas was his best friend who he also knew was in a sexually active relationship so why not ask him… or maybe it was the alcohol talking. 

  "I said, would you be okay with letting me watch you and your girlfriend fuck." Yep, he was so far gone, he didn't even care that he really said these words. The blush on his face is more of a sign of his drunkenness rather than embarrassment. 

   "Wow… are you like, a pervert or something? And here I thought I knew my innocent Euijoo!" Nicholas clasped his heart and fell over, landing on the 'supposed' pervert's shoulder. 

  "I'm not a pervert! It's just…  been on my mind for a while. And it keeps making me hard so-" 

  "Okay! Okay! No need to explain it like that- I'll help you. I just need to make sure she's okay with it too."

  Euijoo's face lit up. He couldn't stop the excitement that was bubbling in his chest. Both because Nicholas didn't beat him over the head over this but was willing to help him with such private curiosity. 

  "Thank you Nicho! I owe you one!" 

  "Hmm. Yeah…" And with not a moment more, Nicholas was fast asleep and snoring on Euijoo's arm. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<

  Nicholas had sobered up and surprisingly remembered that outrageous conversation from the day before. After clearing it with a sober Euijoo, he now had to ask you how you felt about it. 

  Although you loved and trusted your boyfriend, especially in the bedroom, he still liked relaying ideas to you before trying them. And that's part of why you trusted him so deeply. 

  But as you sat across from him at the breakfast table, you were sure he had fallen off the deep end. 

  You were almost certain he was joking but the way his eyes remained razor-sharp as he spoke told you everything. He was dead serious. 

  "Wait, Nicho, babe. Look I'm not against it but who is this friend?" 

  He was vague when setting up the question and thus you werent 100% sure of all the details. He sighed, his shoulders seeming to relax after that. But he still could barely hold your gaze.

  " Its… It's Euijoo." 

  And here you burst into laughter. "Euijoo!? Stop playing games, baby! Shy, never hurt a fly, probably cries at the mention of sex- Euijoo?!" 

  This wasn't just you making fun of your mutual friend. Euijoo had a reputation for being so soft and sheltered. The type who tilted his head in confusion when you joked about cock rings or ran away blushing when he caught you and Nicholas making out once. 

  So the sweet baby Euijoo saying he wanted to… watch- was just out of this world as a concept. 

  "Yes, that Euijoo!" 

  Your laughter died down slowly. "W-Wait… really…" From there, the two of you just had to soak up the situation. You both were willing to help him and it was a fun concept idea to try but where did this idea of his come from? Had he even had sex at this point? 

  Maybe this was his idea of learning. But you both were almost completely sure it was a kink of some sort. Regardless, you guys had an evening to plan for now. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<

   The three of you hanging out together wasn't new. If anything, it was a normal occurrence. But today it was tense. 

  A movie was playing while you cuddled up to Nicholas. A blanket wrapped around your shoulders as Euijoo sat on the other side of Nicholas. After you all had said hello, a blanket of awkwardness covered the room as you settled down. 

  Although you guys were okay with it, no one could imagine how to get this started. It's funny to say but all you guys wanted to do was fuck, get Euijoo's consensus, and move on. 

  As the movie droned on in the background, Euijoo had to start playing on his phone to stay awake. Nicholas was damn near snoring and you were tired of the tension.

  Starting to feel impatient, you started to kiss Nichos jaw lightly. Feathery kisses trailing from his sharp jawline down his neck. Clearly, it caught his attention as Nicholas squeezed down on you. 

  His fingers grasping at your hips to hold you still. As his eyes opened, he chuckled lowly and leaned into your ear. 

  "Ah, so you're ready now baby girl? It's about time-" His husky voice sent a chill down your back, making you press your body closer to his. 

  Nicholas peppered kisses on your lips as he pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him. His warm hands roam up and down your bare thighs and peeking into your shorts with cheeky intent. 

  His soft lips moved down your jaw, and up to your ear, making you moan softly. The slight noise made Euijoo drop his phone as he glanced over and saw the two of you. Stuck between stealing glances and full on watching, he instead picked his phone back up and pretended to be preoccupied. Except for the obvious tent starting to form in his pants. 

  As Nicholas' hands continued to roam over your body, he pulled you a bit closer. "Alright baby doll, don't be shy and put on a show for us, yeah?" 

  His words melted your shyness away, a now audible moan leaving your body as you started to grind down on him. You could practically feel the smirk on your boyfriend's lips as his fingers started to peel away at your clothes.

  Long digits making smooth strokes along your still-clothed cunt, finding your clit and focusing there. Audience or not, you were starting to feel that too-familiar wetness building up and you loved it. 

  Grinding your hips down to feel even more of the friction you craved so badly. Opening your eyes, you could see Euijoo was completely red in the face. Phone long since discarded as his eyes scanned your bodies up and down. As if absorbing the scene or even taking mental notes. 

   And somehow, this only encouraged you more. Reattaching your lips with Nicholas, who let out a low growl as he bit down on your lip. 

  "Look at you, soaking wet already. Is that because he's here? Are you turned on by him watching?" Maybe you were! Who knows but as Nicholas removed your shorts and your panties, the question evaporated from your mind. 

  The cool air made you gasp and cling to his hand even more. One, then two fingers into your pussy as he stroked quickly. Curling his fingers occasionally as you rode his hand. 

   You let out a series of pants and moans without restraint. "There you go you little slut. Let the world hear you too while you're riding my fingers." 

  Euijoo had to bite back on his tongue hearing that. Both out of shock and because a moan of his own almost came out. 

  He had never heard Nicholas say such things in a serious manner, especially not to you. Nicholas was always so sweet and loving, only using the most precious pet names for you. And the fact that he called you a slut and you moaned as a response was a new shock. 

  Now he had to look into himself as to why he almost let the same sound slip from his own lips. He didn't say it to him, so why was his dick only getting harder? 

  Shaking himself from his head, he was met with Nicholas pulling his cock out. And surprised he was. Sure, he's been close with Nicho for years and they've talked about their dicks before but actually seeing it was a different story. 

  Euijoo had to admit, his friend was well-endowed. Lengthy but not absurd, girthy with thick veins running the length of his shaft and a slight curve at the top. Now he was glad he was just watching and not putting out, he might've been embarrassed in comparison. 

  Running a hand down Nicho's body, you took his hardened length in your hand and stroked him a few times, rubbing your soaked cunt against his shaft and coating him in your juices. "Fuck doll, I need you so bad." 

  Spurred on by his words, you only moved faster against him. "Hmm, please baby, please I want your cock badly-" 

  Wasting not another moment, he aligned his tip with your entranced and pushed inside. Lewd noises coursed through you as the sweet familiar stretch of your pussy took over. 

 In no time, you had him bottomed out and started to bounce on his cock. Gripping his shoulders and crying out as you rode him, desperate to chase your high. 

  Nicholas continued to praise you as he moaned, holding your hips stable and leaving marks on any skin he could get to. 

  Why was all this having such a heavy effect on Euijoo? He felt lightheaded and antsy but in a good way. Soaking in the sights and smells and words. 

 His legs crossed over but were twitching as he tried to gain some relief. It was damn near painful at this point. Attempting to be discreet, he palmed at his strained member, hoping it would help. But it barely did. 

  Unknowingly, he started to pant and whimper as well, desperate for his own relief. Was he seriously this turned on by watching you two fuck? Maybe. 

  But his little pleas didn't go unnoticed. You opened your eyes to see him struggling. And in a way, something stirred inside you. You wanted to help him too, since he probably didn't know how to help himself. 

  It wasn't pity but more, 'This baby boy can't seem to cum on his own and I'll gladly help.'  Slowing down your hips got your boyfriend's attention as you nodded towards Euijoo, whose eyes were shut tight at this point. 

   Luckily you and Nicholas always seemed to understand each other, even without words. "Ah I see, you wanna help him too? Go for it doll." 

  With a kiss on the cheek, you gave him a smile. Reaching over, you placed your hand on Euijoo's- the one that was covering his dick. 

  His eyes popped open in surprise as he made eye contact with you. His face only burned up more in embarrassment that he had been caught in such a pathetic position. And somehow, it just turned him on more. 

  "Do you want help baby boy? You probably wanna cum so badly, hm?" Euijoo couldn't respond but he didn't stop you as you crawled off of Nicholas, and closer to him. Your hands work away and loosening his sweats and pulling them off to expose his underwear, a very obvious wet stain peering through. 

  Your touch on his cock through his underwear made him jump, which got a giggle out of you. "So sensitive, have you ever had anyone touch you before baby?" 

  You caressed him up and down moving extremely slowly, almost driving him crazy. Nicholas leaned over, resting his head on your shoulder. "Probably not doll. He's shivering so badly from just your hand, imagine what more will do to him." He nibbled on your earlobe as he teased his friend. 

  Euijoo's head was spinning. He was meant to be a spectator and now you both were playing with him in a way. He couldn't stop the yelp that left his lips as you held down on his cock. 

  Pulling his underwear down, his hard cock stood up, hitting his stomach. Your fingers ran along his length with a feather-like touch, making him shiver. "Look at this Nicho, isn't his cock pretty?" 

  Nicholas nodded and kissed your cheek. Resting his hand a top of yours and guiding you on stroking Euijoo. "You're so right doll. Wouldn't you like to taste him?" 

  You nodded before bending over, your lips leaving a light touch on his tip. A strangled mix of a yelp and a moan left him. This was not what he expected in any way but his body was melting into your touch. 

  The warmth and wetness of your mouth taking in his tip sent shivers down his body. This was a new sensation and it was better than he imagined. 

  He would feel shameful to admit he was still a virgin in just about every sense of the word. Besides himself, this was the first time someone had touched his dick. Blowjob and all. 

  You worked your way down slowly, taking in more of his shaft as you went. Smiling every time your tongue swirled around and he moaned, or when he would whimper the further down you went before taking all of him in your mouth. 

  While you were working at Euijoo's cock, you gave Nicholas a perfect view of your ass and pussy. Still soaking with fluid running down your thighs. Well, he couldn't just let you have all the fun. 

  Taking his hand, he spread your legs a bit and began kissing up your thighs. Licking up everything that had run down them. Once he reached your heat, his tongue immediately got to work. Licking, sucking, and stroking you. 

  His actions made you moan around Euijoo, which got the same reaction out of him. Nicholas couldn't help but find it cute. His tongue poked your entrance before sinking inside your tight hole.

  Flicking his tongue as he went in and out, pleasuring you and enjoying himself at the same time. Savoring your taste as he felt your hips jerk back. 

  Pulling back, he kissed from your clit up to your other hole. Licking around the rim as you jerked. It was rare he played with your asshole but when it did, it was crazy. 

  Taking three of his fingers, Nicholas stuck them in his mouth. Coating them in his spit before circling your hole and pushing one finger inside. A heavy sigh left your body as he pushed it deeper inside. 

  He continued to stroke his finger in and out before adding the second and a third, stretching you out more. Your hips bucked back to get more of him. "Shh, relax doll, you'll have more of me soon enough." 

  His fingers kept a steady pace at your hole as you matched the pace of you sucking off Euijoo. Who was practically a mess in your mouth. 

  His eyes shut tight as a light sweat started to build. You were teasing him as well. If this was his first time, you would hate for him to cum too early. When he started to twitch too much, you'd pull back completely and let him relax a bit. 

  You could've sworn he was almost crying from not getting his release. Stroking his thighs for reassurance, you placed light kisses on his skin. "Don't worry baby boy. You'll get to cum soon, I promise." 

   Thankfully at the same time, Nicholas gave you a kiss on your ass. Once you were loose enough, he removed his fingers. Pulling back from Euijoo, you readjusted the positions. 

  Euijoo sat back so you were straddling his lap with Nicholas behind you. His hands slowly moved up your back as he kissed along your spine.

  "Take your time doll. If it hurts too much, use the safe word okay?" Nicholas was always so sweet, especially when things were about to be crazy. 

  You nodded before facing Euijoo. Placing kisses on his cheek and neck. "The same goes for you too baby boy. If it's uncomfortable, tell me to stop." You nuzzled his cheek to which he nodded. 

  "Y-yeah. Okay. I'm ready." His voice shook in anticipation but he couldn't believe this was happening. 

  Taking his shaft into your hand, you stroked Euijoo slowly before aligning him with your pussy and pushing him inside. 

 A mewl-like moan erupted from him the second you had engulfed him. He couldn't help but jerk around as you sank down his cock at a steady pace. Once you had taken in all of him, his head fell back in ecstasy. 

  He understood the craze now. Your wet and tight folds held on and massaged his cock in a way he could only dream of. From base to tip he was drowning in the pleasure as it spread all over him. 

 After a few moments, you started to move your hips. Trying to maintain a slow pace so as to not overwhelm him. But he was already panting and had a death grip on your hips. 

  "You like that baby boy? Hm, Euijoo likes my tight pussy?" He nodded eagerly and whimpered. He almost felt pathetic with how easily he was falling apart because of you. 

  It would be a lie to say you weren't enjoying this too. There was something so hot about riding Euijoo and making him squirm and moan. Such an innocent soul (or so you thought) unraveling before you as you touched him. It only made you more soaked as you picked up the pace. 

  But you couldn't soak it in for too long. A hand wrapped around your throat from behind, halting you in your tracks. The hot, almost burning chest of Nicholas pressed up against your back as he leaned over you, his cock poking your ass. 

  "Don't finish him off just yet doll." His low sultry voice nearly ruined you there. As he still had his hand on your throat, he poked the rim of your ass before slipping in. Your body swallows him in with little protest. 

  Your body shook at the new sensation. Never had you been filled so much, a cock in each hole had you quivering. 

  Nicholas jerked his hips forward, filling you out more, and started to thrust consistently, causing your hips to naturally move on Euijoo as well. 

  "Fuck, you're such a cock slut, aren't you. Drooling and moaning because you want more of us." His words were only punctuated with a harsh thrust. 

  So quickly you had gone from teasing Euijoo to falling apart at the words of Nicholas. And it only made your orgasm grow closer. 

  Euijoo was already close himself and seeing this on you was only making it worse. Especially when your hips moved with a determination to make him finish as well. 

  "Nicho, please, wanna cum please!" You begged as you felt your body start to tingle and your toes curled. 

  "You have to make Euijoo cum first doll, then you can." You nodded as your hips bounced more eagerly on Euijoo. A hand slipped up your shirt and pinched your nipple in response. 

  Euijoo let his eyes close and his mouth hangs open. Soaking in everything. His body tensed up as the knot in his stomach tightened. Your cunt making him feel better than he ever has before. 

 Not only that, but Nicholas pumping into you at the same time and putting you in the same position he was. A shaking, pleasure-filled moaning mess. 

  That's not to say he was ignoring the lewd mess that was becoming of Nicholas. He looked almost animalistic at this point, hair a sweat-covered mess that stuck to his forehead, growls and moans mixed together as he thrusts at an almost inhuman pace. 

  It all mixed together and was almost overwhelming how much Euijoo was holding back from coming undone. But as you placed a rough kiss on his neck and moved up to his ear, it became miles easier. 

  "Cum for me baby boy, you earned it." And just like that, Euijoo came hard. His body shook and he held onto your shoulders as cum shot out of his cock and into your cunt. Flowing almost endlessly as he cried out, stars filling his vision. 

   Before you could start to praise him, Nicholas pulled back on your throat and buried himself in you mercilessly and making your own orgasm wash over you. Followed shortly by his own, filling your ass with his cum as well. 

  There was a moment of stillness as everyone came down and caught their breath. 

  Nicholas pulled out and helped you off of Euijoo. Kissing your lips and praising you before leaving to get some tissues to clean everyone up. 

  As you and Euijoo remained, he was unsure how to feel but averted his gaze. You chuckled and kissed his forehead, pulling his head into your lap. Stroking his hair to ground him. 

  "Good boy Euijoo. You did amazing sweetheart. How do you feel?" Euijoo felt so many things. He was relieved, energized, and satisfied. 

  "I feel… good. Thank you guys." You chuckled as Nicholas returned, helping you guys clean up. Once you were done, you snuggled into Nicholas' chest, still with Euijoo in your lap. 

  You were exhausted beyond reason but smiled. Nicholas peppered kisses on your face, lips, and cheeks. Resting his hand on top of yours and laced your fingers together that were petting his friend's head. 

  Surrounded by such warmth, Euijoo could feel himself drifting off to sleep. He had more to ask, more to say, but it could wait. He felt way too good to break the peace and went to sleep as the movie played in the background.

[blocksgame]

a little purgatory q!fitpac for you

(/rp) (set during yesterday 11/7 when they had the mutual assinations missions)

They set a time and place. It’s near mid, which ups the risk, but - you know, call him crazy, Fit doesn’t feel the need to bother telling Forever where he's going or what he’s doing.

Squinting, he sees a little figure in the distance jump off a cliff. It catches itself with a glider at the last second, smoothly. It gets close enough to become distinct. Like a kid, Fit smiles. Right on time.

“Hi Fit!” Pac waves.

“Pac!” Fit shouts, and walks toward him.

Pac sprints.

They both slow when they get within placing distance. Pac looks like shit. He’s busted up. He doesn’t normally take the hoodie off, but he has now in the desert heat. His undershirt is torn and his strong arms are cut up. He looks miserable.

Fit looks hot. He’s also cut up and his clothes are torn up to catch sweat and for bandages, but that’s what they were always for. Waiting.

“Fit! I’m so happy to see you. Are you gonna kill me?” Pac asks.

Not unless – are you going to – other things Fit might say die on his tongue. He shakes his head. “No,” he says, firmly.

“Oh, okay.” Pac gets a little closer. “That’s good.”

“Pac, how are you?”

“Oh, well, pretty bad,” says Pac. “Um, a crocodile nearly ate me getting here, and, I don’t – I’ve died like ten times today – and – I don’t know, Fit, it’s a nightmare!”

At last, they reach out to each other and hug rather desperately. Fit braces himself because expects the touch to be a lot, back in his old ways as he’s been, but really it’s only been three days and hugging Pac is kind of like riding a bicycle. Pac squeezes him hard and Fit squeezes him just the same, for a while.

“How – how are you?” Pac asks, against his neck.

“I’m okay,” Fit reassures him. “I’m okay. ...This is kind of like what I’m used to, you know? Not trusting anyone and hidden bases and finding resources and – it’s kind of fun? It’s not, like, fun fun, but…”

“That’s good,” says Pac. “I’m glad. I kept thinking, this is the kind of thing Fit would like – but I didn’t know if, if you would, or if…”

Fit huffs a laugh. “I mean, it’s not summer camp. But, but it’s got its charms. To me, at least. Maybe not to anyone else.” If you’re as much of an asshole as Fit, of course.

Pac nods. “Oh, I’m really glad. It makes sense. I mean, you only died once that I saw, right?” They pull apart.

“Yeah. Fucking tiger.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, don’t be. I’m sorry you’ve been – well, you know. Having it rough.”

“Hah...”

Pac’s hair is unruly and falling in his eyes. A known terror of the wastelands, a man who leaves no survivors, pushes it out of the way. “Is Tubbo taking care of you?” he asks, as gentle as he knows how.

Wide-eyed, Pac nods.

“That’s good.” Not that Pac needs it. Fit knows better, except that Pac doesn’t know better and right now it looks like he really does need it.

He’d vaguely considered proposing that they trap Red’s portal, or some other kind of mischief, for fun, but – They just sit together, under an acacia tree, leaned together. Pac shifts and shuts his eyes and breathes it in. Fit puts his arm around his shoulder. In lieu of a hand to hold, Pac rests his hand on Fit’s knee.

Fit manages to give them both ten minutes. Eventually his danger-sense gets too high. Just about sitting in the open like this, what’s he thinking? Maybe they could stay together for longer if they worked on tasks, but that’s always riskier. If someone gets the jump on one of them, Fit will have to decide what to do. Being here is even more fun than Fit let on. He just didn’t want to sound like a demon in front of Pac. But when he imagines someone else rolling up on them, coming up to mid, he’s not even trying to do the math - he doesn’t want to be in a position to pick more battles. Is that cowardice? Is it protectiveness?

“I should really get back to grinding,” he says.

Pac just nods. He has work too. Now he knows that Fit is alive and well, as well as possible, and cares about him. He misses Mike. He misses their old life and when they had more and when being bad at things hurt less. “Me too,” he says. He has to keep going. “Should we kill each other for the quest?”

The terror of the wastelands shuts his eyes. “Let’s not.”

“Okay.”

And they both walk away.

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 65 – System Collapse by Martha Wells

I’ve had this on preorder long enough to have entirely forgotten about it by the time I got the email that it’s available for pickup – but thanks to the magic of an extremely obliging local book store, I was still able to pick up and read the entire thing before it’s technically released. So score one for buying indie, I guess.

The book is set directly after Network Effect – directly directly, to the point where I needed to look up a plot summary to remind myself what the situation was – following our beloved rogue and rampant SecUnit, ART, and their assorted humans as they try to convince an abandoned and alien-contaminated colony’s inhabitants to trust them and accept evacuation with them (and also go along with the colonial charter they’re forging) rather than the indenture offers the corporate mission also on site are offering. Along the way there’s hacking, shuttle chases, gunfights, and plot-critical media curation.

Mostly though it’s about Murderbot having PTSD (on account of all the horrible trauma in Network Effect specifically, and also just its life generally) and absolutely zero idea how to cope. After a false memory/panic attack makes it crash out of nowhere it spends the majority of the book terrified that it’s going to crash or freeze up at some vital moment and get everyone killed, dealing with constant alien-related paranoia, and generally second-guessing itself and feeling useless and depressed. Absolutely no one around it has any idea how to deal with this, and their awkward attempts to be supporting are both endearing and entirely unhelpful.

Anyway, this is a Murderbot novel. Do you like Murderbot? Then you will like this. Do you not know the series? Then by god start with All Systems Red none of this will make any sense at all without context. Do you dislike murderbot? I mean hateread as you like but it is largely more of the same, don’t expect any series-saving twists for you.

It’s kind of absurd to call the series ‘cozy fantasy’ – by the end of the book SecUnit is down several extremities and bleeding out on the floor (as is traditional by this point) – but I feel like the series fills about the same emotional niche for me as like say Becky Chambers does for people with normal tolerances for low-tension sentimentality. The setting is a horrible dystopia and the plots are full of violence and trauma, but all that is more or less set dressing to stories that are actually about SecUnit making connections and deciding at a tortuously slow pace what sort of life it wants to have (usually several hours after commuting itself without thinking) while consistently running into the best possible friends and forming mutually affectionate relationships it absolutely did not want. It’s a story about fun, low-tension character dynamics, corporate kill teams aside.

I am being entirely sincere when I say the fact that SecUnit has no idea what it wants or what its doing is a selling point. In the same way, the fact that there’s never any real ~breakthrough~ or moment of sudden recovery is absolutely key to the book working. The story closes with it being hopeful and doing better but from any remotely reasonable baseline still being pretty far from ‘okay’ (in much the same way, it is utterly vital to the whole series that it has absolutely zero angst over ‘not being human’ or pinochle syndrome and only cares about ‘not being normal’ insofar as its had to work really hard on some automated scripts for walking and idle motions to pass as human while doing infiltration work).

Anyway, speaking of character dynamics – look, I’ve always been the first to roll my eyes when people complain about not being able to keep tracks or large casts. But every time I open one of these books, I realize I have only the vaguest idea who the vast majority of the (human) supporting cast is. Not really an issue with actually following the story, but I’m absolutely certain I’m missing out on some things.

The non-human supporting cast are great though. ART best spaceship, and I cared significantly more about the colony’s central control computer than any of the actual colonists. I’m like 70% sure this is intentional.

Stepping back, it’s interesting how the series’ setting has evolved over time. In All Systems Red the universe around SecUnit was incredibly broadly sketched, generic sci f playing with space opera and cyberpunk tropes it pretty much relied upon readers already being familiar with. This never exactly stops – especially for the aesthetics and technology, the book has a profound lack of interest in the specifics of what ‘projectile weapons’ look like or how spaceships work beyond the convenience of plot – but as the books go on the world definitely gets more specific and also broader. You can mostly blame ART for this, I think – there’s a definite shift in the tone of the setting when you introduce an institution like the University with power like it can throw around, and more generally make active resistance to and subversion to the corporate status quo a plausible and fruitful endeavour.

All this to say that there’s an offhand mention at one point about ‘intracorporate violence’ increasing and the system being increasingly unstable, and I’m curious what Wells is going to do with that going forward. Especially with the book’s final resolution and the status quo it sets up going forward.

Anyway like I said, it’s murderbot. This is the 7th book in the series. If you’re considering reading it you’ll probably love it.