#ive only had him for a couple of months but if anything happened to him etc etc

[nomairuins]

i just fucking hate having ptsd all of it. so many stupid fucking things send me into fucking hysterics it sucks and i hate it and i dont want itttt anymore i dont want it.

[the-kipsabian]

seriously bobby orlando is one of the funniest fuckers in the indies right now and youre doing yourself a disservice not following him and his work, both in the social media and in the ring

[lokissweater]

hey i really really love your fics and the way you write youre so talented! ive been searching for a virgin!yuji x virgin!reader for so long and my life would literally be urs if you wrote this. if not no worries, i totally get it.

sending love! - anon

OH THIS IDEA IS HOOOOTTTTT AND U BEST BELIEVE IM ALL OVER IT!! thank you for your sweet words and for sending in a request!! i hope you like it!! :] <333

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oh my god, pretty!

{yuji itadori x f!reader}

summary: your relationship with yuji was semi new and cute, you both absolutely adoring the fuck out of one another since the moment you met. one thing you have in common though? you’re both loser virgins with absolutely no experience whatsoever, and on one night where you’re both innocently cuddling on the couch watching a movie— yuji goes NUTS.

warnings: MDNI. college!au, afab!reader, SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it ya’ll), accidental creampie LOL, yuji is a little perv, smut with barely any plot she goes straight to the good stuff, cursing, pet names, fluff, FILTHYYYY this is filthy, all characters are aged up.

word count: 3.9k

authors note: PHEEWWWW THIS ONE HAD ME MEOWING LIKE A KITTY CAT AND I HOPE YALL MEOW WITH ME!!! thank you for your support always, that is an absolute given, i love you and i love you forever. MWAAAHHHH <3333

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“are you okay baby?”

no you were not.

because yuji was in a black tight compression tee and pj’s while you both were watching a movie together and cuddling on your living room couch, the sleeves of his shirt accentuating his biceps and the rest of it squeezing over his pecs and torso, the brightness of your tv illuminating all of his sharp handsome features that had you gnawing at your nails in a nervous fit— him looking at you with pinched eyebrows.

yuji and you had just started dating a couple of months ago— his lively overly friendly personality winning you over without really much effort at all, and your genuine sweet one catching his heart the minute he saw you come into one of his lectures last year, looking soul killingly beautiful and radiant, the both of you befriending each other quickly as your interests aligned.

and you started hanging out on and off campus a lot more frequently after that— gradually falling more and more in love until yuji finally gathered up his jumpy nerves and asked you to be his girlfriend.

there was a problem though.

neither of you had had sex before, or had done anything in between the lines with other people before you got together.

it was the first thing that yuji worried about when he first started dating you— embarrassed and afraid that you would think he was a big fat loser with no game and that he would potentially run the risk of losing you, you maybe preferring a man of experience to match your own needs.

but when he admitted that to you, and when you shook your worried little head and told him you were in the same exact boat as him, he was fucking elated— his apprehensions crumbling down like a landslide and replaced instead with the giddiness of getting to do stuff with you for the first time ever, and him being the man (the only man ever he hoped) to get to do it to you.

but then there was another problem.

neither of you seemed to want to start anything, the both of you hesitant and scared because of your lack of experience— petrified of humiliating yourselves if one of you tried and pathetically failed at it or did something incorrectly.

“mhm! fine.” you smiled sweetly, your calm voice a completely different contrast to what was currently happening inside your reeling fuzzy brain.

you had both definitely talked about it, the subject of intimacy. but it was always something that the two of you reassured each other would happen eventually when you were both ready, that there was no rush— choosing to brush the subject off like it was nothing.

except it wasn’t nothing. it was never nothing. and you were both way past fucking ready, especially yuji, him practically ripping apart at the seams with horn dog need anytime he saw you wear those little skirts that you like so much, or whenever you’d straddle his lap during one of your daily makeout sessions— his hands literally trembling over your ass in attempts at being respectful of pretty ol’ you, settling for placing them on your upper back instead.

and you would internally pout, disappointed, because you always without fail noticed all of this yet you were too shy to mention anything or do something about it on your own.

“you sure?” he asked softly. “you look like you’re thinking about something.”

he raised a hand and gently poked your cheek repeatedly with his index finger, a silly smile on his face. “tell me baby tell me baby tell me baby—”

you giggled, “i’m okay! just zoned out.” you pushed his finger away, leaning up and pressing a quick shy kiss to his cheek that made him instantly flush pink in return, a wobbly smile spreading across his face.

in the midst of you retreating back to your previous position, yuji caught your chin with his fingers and turned you to look at him, your cheeks blushing as he stared at you with lovesick dreamy eyes.

“can we— um.” his gaze flickered to your lips. “can we make out.”

your eyes widened slightly and your hands grew clammy fast, cheeks buzzing as you stared back at him.

since making out was the only thing you both properly conquered, it happened almost every single time you saw each other, the act practically filling in and making up for the more lewd exchanges you both were missing out on, your kisses always sloppy and messy but heated— though each time it came around to it you were often just as nervous as the first time.

“s—sure!” you stammered. “you don’t have to ask me yuji… you can just— y’know… do it..”

he bit his tongue, your timidness for some fucking reason sending a shock of arousal through his veins and straight down to his dick as he tried his best to swallow it and not make it obvious for you.

“okay!”

he brought your face closer then and kissed you, a solid one at first, until you slowly parted your lips and ushered him in, deeper, your body moving closer to his on its own as he immediately responded with placing a hand on your leg to throw it over his lap, your mouths wet and slippery as he properly settled you to sit on him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the movie drowned out completely in the background as a sequence of lip smackings echoed throughout the room, yuji’s hands on your upper back like always as you continued to make out… until you felt a little stinging cramp in your knee— moving your hips a little bit to readjust, utterly unaware of how you accidentally applied pressure over yuji’s crotch as he sucked in a breath through his nose and pulled away.

“fuck don’t do that baby don’t do that.”

you froze, hands quickly retracting back to your chest. “what? what do what?”

“oh—” he froze, eyes wide and cheeks pink as his mouth opened and closed like a fishy out of water.

he couldn’t possibly tell you why, not wanting to scare you away by admitting that you grinding down on his crotch like that made his dick jerk and mind haze in the most filthy and perverted way imaginable, feeling like he wanted to dig himself a big fat grave of horny shame to throw himself into as he watched your pretty eyes look at him the way that they were, wanting that same look but underneath him instead—

your bent knee cramped up once more and you hissed, moving your hips again except this time harder, yuji’s eyes flying open as the grip around your upper torso tightened, a strangled whiny hum escaping his throat.

your eyes snapped to his at the sound, now feeling something hard poking your clothed pussy as your brain finally put fucking two and two together, your hand slapping over your mouth in embarrassment at what you did and over your stupid delayed realization.

“oh! yuji i’m so sorry i— i didn’t realize—”

he shook his head rapidly, his cheeks and ears red as he shakily smoothed his hands over your hips comfortingly.

“no baby! don’t be sorry it’s okay!” he quickly kissed your forehead. “i—it’s me… it’s not you at all…”

but there was something else behind his eyes, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint as he just stared at the place where your body met his crotch, hands slowly gripping your hips tighter in a certain way and… and actually moving you now in a certain way that made you promptly realize he was grinding you against him, pleasure quickly twitching at your clit in response as flat hands flew to his chest to stabilize yourself.

“what— what are you doing?” you stammered, your chest heaving a little.

“s—sorry!…” he mumbled, eyes still trained to the same area. “it just— felt kind of good… so..”

yuji peered up at you, a cautious look on his face as he eyed you curiously with his pinky cheeks bright— hesitantly indulging in his overwhelming sick need for you, as simply making out was just not cutting it anymore ever since he got a taste of how something like this could feel a couple of seconds ago.

and your thoughts were identical to his.

timidly, you slid your hands up slowly to rest back on his manly shoulders, the rough material of his compression tee under your fingers making you literally squeeze your hole around nothing, eyes nervously darting around his face.

“o—okay…”

his hand came up to brush some of your soft hair over your shoulder, his thumb moving in to caress gently over your hot cheek.

“can i… can i do it again?”

you shakily nodded, and he gripped your hips again before moving you just like he did before, your crotch coming down to meet his slowly and cautiously as your mouth partially hung open at how good it actually felt, yuji staring at your expression with blown out pupils and nearly drooling over it.

but he wanted more, his hands moving you then to grind on him a little faster, his hips coming up to meet yours at the same time as you shyly met him halfway— quick and stuttery until all of a sudden you were full blown humping into each other like rabid dogs, your tiny whiny moans setting him the fuck off as he captured your lips again to make out with you, fearing if he let you quietly moan like that for his ears to selfishly drink up that he was going to end up busting in his pants.

“y—yuji…” you whimpered in between kisses.

“yeah baby?” his husky voice sent another electrical shock of ecstasy through your body, your fingers gripping his shirt in tiny fists as you didn’t even know what exactly you were pleading him for.

but he knew.

he wrapped his arms entirely around you and moved so that you were laying flat on your back now, yuji in between your legs as he kissed you sloppily while grinding himself back on you again, him literally mimicking how it would be to fuck you as you squeezed his biceps for support, your thin pajama shorts feeling his hard cock bulging from his pj pants and rutting against your cunt desperately with every hump.

yuji, literally trapped in a dimension of arousal and nasty fucking thoughts of you with every moan that slipped past your puffy soft lips, had him reaching and tugging down on the waist band of your shorts like an animal, your baby blue panties with a little ribbon bow in the middle making him nearly choke on his spit.

your hand quickly came to clasp around his wrist, stopping him.

“y—yuji my parents! i don’t know if we should—”

“oh fuck—” he whispered, looking up to the top of your staircase and down where your parents were sound asleep, gnawing so much on his bottom lip in cock blocked agony that he accidentally drew blood.

and you didn’t know why, but the urge was unforgiving as you reached up and cupped his hot sweaty cheeks, pulling his face down as you stuck your tongue out and licked over his bleeding lip.

yuji stared, eyes wide, before he let out a low guttural grown and shoved his face into the crook of your neck.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

you were fucking killing him.

he rolled his leaky cock slowly into you again, his shoulders trembling at the cold feeling of his wet boxers that were literally covered in pre cum the moment your pretty plush thighs sat over his lap, you speaking up.

“m—maybe—”

he pulled back fast.

“yeah?”

“maybe if you just— look. that… that should be fine, right?”

“yeah yeah!” yuji’s invisible tail was practically wagging over your words. “look uh huh! just look baby.”

you bit your lip, slowly reaching down and tugging as both of yuji’s hands went flying down to help you, pulling them over your thighs and down to your ankles before setting them behind him on the couch with a soft thud.

you kept your thighs closed, shy and timid as you realized yuji hadn’t seen you like this yet… your cheeks flaring in embarrassment as he pulled your knees apart and gawked at the vision before him, yuji looking at you like you had built the entirety of rome by yourself with your bare hands.

you hadn’t noticed yet, but your panties were drenched— a patch of wet spread over your lips that literally outlined the anatomy of your pussy to a t, leaving little to the imagination as his eyes stayed locked on your clit in a complete trance.

“oh my god, pretty!…” he murmured, his index finger coming down to softly touch and rub your puffed up clit over your panties, you squeaking in response and slamming your thighs closed again.

“sorry! sorry!” he sputtered, frantic as he came down to peck little kisses on your cheek apologetically, your eyes shut, bashful. “did that hurt? i didn’t mean to i’m sorry—”

“n—no!” you shook your head and slowly peeked your eyes open. “it didn’t… just felt s—sensitive.”

his shoulders relaxed in relief, nodding, his eyes widening in delight when you spread your legs back open for him again, your panties literally stuck slick to your pussy at this point.

yuji’s fingers pressed against your folds, him wanting to just feel the way your little wet lips mushed up against his digits, his curious hand directing him slowly up over your clit and back down by your virgin hole as he breathed hard through his nose, trying to get himself to calm the fuck down over your cunt and not freak you out.

but what he was doing felt good, him having no idea as you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth with your eyebrows screwed together in euphoria, his ears perking up at the sounds of your sweet little moans and whines the more pressure he applied to it.

and then he got an idea.

as you were distracted getting riled up by his fingers, yuji shoved his other hand under his wet pajama pants and boxers, pulling out his throbbing cock and pumping it a little as his angry tip leaked with every jerk— a drop oozing down and landing right on your nub before rolling over your panties as he breathed out a string of hushed curses.

yuji replaced the hand on your pussy with his cock, his length and tip pushing up in between your sopping cunt and back down, completely soiling your panties with a mix of your arousal and his pre cum as he rolled his hips into you again, you not noticing at all until both of his rough hands came to grip and squeeze over your inner thighs, your eyes fluttering open as you wondered why it felt way better than before, them bulging once you saw his thick long dick slipping and sliding hurriedly against your pussy.

“b—baby!” you moaned breathlessly, but yuji literally could not hear you as his dazed droopy eyes stayed focused on your swollen puss while he continued to rut.

“uh huh..?..” he panted. “what’s wrong sweetheart…”

your words lodged themselves in the back of your throat as a particular rough thrust made you choke and clamp your mouth shut, squeezing your eyes shut in response with your sensitive nub pulsing as you felt yuji’s leaky sticky cum all over you.

“does it— does it feel good?” his eyes finally trailed up to look at you, his already fucked out expression and flushed face forming a yummy pit in your stomach that you recognized as your release whenever you fingered yourself, except that feeling no where near as good as what you felt right fucking now.

“mhm..” you moaned and licked your lips.

yuji’s fingers slid up from your inner thighs and to the straps of your panties, fiddling and playing with them as he rolled his hips like a little perv, his tip at times falling and literally sinking into your gaping virgin hole a bit— your panties a thin stretchy wall that frustratingly stopped his cock from going, slipping back upward instead.

“baby…” he moaned lowly, whispering. “maybe we should just have sex right now…”

you gasped. “right now?! i don’t know yuji my— my parents— and we’ve never—”

he leaned down and sloppily kissed you, speaking in between each smack.

“they’re asleep it’s—” mmphf— “it’s okay—”

yuji already had his middle finger hooked under your wet panties as he started pulling down, you squeaking at the cold breeze hitting your bare clit.

“i want to but— hic!”

he rubbed his tip over your entrance a bit, pooling your juice up.

“what if— what if we get too loud? and they come downstairs—”

he shook his head. “i’ll keep on a lookout pretty don’t worry about it...” he murmured. “you just relax while i pump my cock in, yeah?”

you whimpered, nodding quickly and pathetically as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down flush against your chest, suctioning tiny sucks on his jaw to keep you from moaning the loudest you’ve moaned all night as he started pushing in, yuji’s mind in a literal fucking state of delirium as his dick was finally gonna be buried in your cute pussy after wanting it for so long.

you hiccuped against his jaw, your arms gripping him tighter as he stretched you out so good, feeling a little pinch in your walls that made you spread your legs wider in attempts at alleviating it.

“ohhhh fuckkkk baby—” he moaned loud and you quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“shhh honey shhh—”

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—”

his voice was muffled against your hand as he pumped deeper, your squeal catching itself in your throat and his body fucking shivering at the way your tight slobbering walls sucked him in without him having to even push, your hole clenching around him and pumping more strings of stray pre cum out inside you.

“my god do that again please do that again—” he panted, reeling his hips back slowly and pushing in at a steady rhythm.

“d—do what?” you panted, your eyes closing in pleasure.

“squeeze— shit!— squeeze me please please—” he begged, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your cheeks as he licked up your little overstimulated tears.

“like— like this?”

you clenched your hole again and his body jerked, his choked moans huffing in your ear as he rolled and snapped his hips faster.

“mm! yuji my god—” you squealed and he placed a hand over your mouth, the both of you now covering over each others as he proceeded to drill his hips in, the couch squeaking with every messy hit.

your hand tightened over his lips the louder he moaned, your eyes silently pleading with him to be a little quieter, but him too lost in the milking of his cock and the way your fucked out face looked as he couldn’t connect the dots with what you were asking of him, suddenly your blurry brain coming into reasonable consciousness for a second as you became aware of the fact that you weren’t even using protection.

“b—baby—” you muffled against his hand. “we’re not using a— mmm! c—condom we need—”

smack smack smack—

“shit i don’t— i don’t have one sweetheart.” he stifled, and yuji only went faster then, harder and jerky as his awkward virgin hips jolted you up and down on him, your eyes rolling back. “s’okay i’ll just pull out m’kay? i’ll pull out—”

his snappy pace brought your brain back into your previous dumb erotic state, nodding dazedly as he scooched his hand down and shoved his middle and ring finger inside your wet mouth, your tongue slobbering over his digits before your lips lewdly closed around them and sucked.

yuji was not keeping a lookout for your parents.

“oh fuck baby you look so fucking pretty doing that…” he choked. “you look so so pretty under me and taking my dick—”

“mhm..” you moaned around his fingers, drool seeping out of your mouth and down your chin as you felt like you were on the brink of cumming and squelching all over him.

“i’m gonna pull out soon okay? i feel—” pant— “i feel like i’m cumming—”

you pulled back from his fingers with a pop and licked your lips, nodding vigorously as you squeezed your eyes painfully shut, your release washing over you like a prickly wave with your mouth hung wide open and your vision blowing bright white.

but in the midst of you creaming, you accidentally clamped your thighs shut around yuji as he tried to slip his dick out.

“fuck! i can’t—” pant— “baby open your legs please im gonna— fuck fuck fuck!—”

yuji’s cum pummeled inside you and filled you the absolute brim as he gasped and whined in your ear, his balls draining so much of it into you that it took no time at all for it to slip past your hole and onto your couch below, the both of you heaving heavily with your clothes stuck against your sweaty sticky bodies.

“are you—” he swallowed. “are you okay baby? i’m sorry i came inside—”

“it’s okay it wasn’t you—” you tried to regulate your breathing. “it— it was my fault… i trapped you in…”

you sheepishly looked at him and gnawed at the inside of your cheek in shame, your face only making him lazily grin and press a hard loving kiss to your cheek.

“it’s okay. we can figure it out later!”

he peeled away from you and sat up, his softening cock still buried inside as he slowly pulled out and watched the rest of his cum spurt out, taking one of his shaky fingers and collecting some before pushing it back in your hole.

“don’t put it back in yujiiii!” you whined.

“sorry! sorry sorry—” he grabbed your wrist gently and kissed the back of your hand, his pinky cheeks vibrant as he looked at you with a wobbly shy smile. “i— i couldn’t help myself…”

you giggled. “s’okay honey.”

he laid his body back over yours, being mindful not to squish you as he leaned some of his weight on his arms, cutely pecking your puffy lips over and over until he was satisfied with the amount, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck after.

“m’glad my first time was with you yuji…” you murmured into his ear, your words causing his heart to literally bang against his chest as he felt like he was on cloud nine with you underneath him like that.

“i’m glad it was with you pretty.” he pushed, looking into your fucked out eyes with sincerity. “and i hope it stays that way. just my dick.”

you laughed loudly, your hand quickly coming up to cover your mouth as he giggled.

you pecked his nose sweetly and readjusted your hips, your cum covered pussy brushing against his cock again, the blood immediately rushing back to it faster than a speeding fucking bullet.

he traced a loving finger across your bottom lip delicately, a little grin on his face.

you quirked a brow. “what?”

“can we um—“ he quickly kissed you. “can we try doggy style right now?”

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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

IV ║ Notch

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part III: Edgestitch | Behind the Seams: Part IV | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E, but not that explicit

Summary: While Ellie works her first shift at the Outfitters, Joel drops by yours to return the blouse you left behind at the baby shower. Turns out, there's plenty around the house to keep him occupied until the teenager clocks off.

Warnings: Sexual tension, body insecurity, some language, inaccurate descriptions of gardening, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, undervest supremacy, flirting, dry humping, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!domestic!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 8.9k

Notes: Once I started writing this chapter in earnest, it came together a bit more quickly than I expected! It's extremely self-indulgent, with plenty of white undervest and belly action because you guys deserve all of that goodness for being the most patient, loving readers a writer could hope for 🥹 Thank you, I love you all! ❤️

Notch – diamond shaped marks that stick out beyond the edge of the pattern to line up all the pieces when sewing the garment. They come in pairs to be matched up.

Joel is sleeping - which is not something that could be said until a couple of months ago.

After the outbreak, sleep as a concept ceased to exist. What took its place is literal ‘shuteye’, either engineered by pills knocked back with moonshine, or a preventative shutdown by his body to avoid total failure, having pushed his physical form to the living limit.

It’s the kind of sleep that is destitute and provides no relief. It keeps the cogs turning just enough that he doesn’t expire, standing in his boots - which, on most days, are not the only things held together by duct tape.

But after the hospital, even that turned out to be too much to ask for. Some nights, the itch for chemical-induced relief got so bad that Joel entertained the thought of asking Tommy for illicit pills, ready to crawl on all fours to his brother’s house two streets down because he was shaking so hard he couldn’t lock his knees. But he didn’t trust him not to tell Maria, and with Ellie in the picture, he wasn’t about to tempt fate.

So instead, he asked Maria to assign him to night patrols. She hmmm’d at his request like she knew something he didn’t, but she humoured him, letting him take the graveyard shift for a couple of weeks straight. She didn’t have to tell him that she could see the way he tripped over his own feet and hear the slur in his voice. She’s too sharp not to notice.

But she didn’t say anything.

What she did do though, was not so subtly wean him off the late-night patrols. It started with a couple of random, last-minute changes, and then the next thing he knew, he was working morning shifts exclusively. When he tried covertly swapping stints with another guy, he showed up at the guard tower at midnight to find his sister-in-law standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her pregnant belly. 

As he trudged home begrudgingly with his head down and her stern reprimand in his ears, he couldn’t help a chuckle. Gotta hand it to her. 

Banished back to his bed, Joel went back to staring owlishly at the ceiling, watching the moonlight slide across the plaster until he knew all the cracks in it with his eyes closed (metaphorically). He’d listen to Ellie snoring away two doors down and marvel at the fact that she somehow still slept like the dead, even after… all that.

And then, one night, it happened for him too.

Admittedly, he ate a bit too much at Tommy and Maria’s - on top of running the town like a well-oiled machine, she makes a mean chicken fried steak - and Ellie had not so subtly plonked a second helping on his plate without asking. He was lying in bed, steeling himself for another long night, when his eyes drooped. The motion was so alien that it jolted him wide awake, but he couldn’t shake the weight that clung to the seams of his lashes. The next time he opened his eyes, it was morning.

Turns out you can teach an old dog new tricks. 

It’s nowhere near consistent, and more often than not he wakes up in a cold sweat in the small hours, but in between, he’s sleeping. For once, he’s feeling rested. And it’s a nice fucking break from the relentless exhaustion that he’s convinced is fused into his bones.

He always wakes up earlier than Ellie though. She never stomps down the stairs until he’s already had breakfast, and hers has gone cold.

So on the Saturday morning following the baby shower, with his face plastered into the mattress, body curled around a pillow - old habits die hard - Joel nearly falls out of bed at the banging on his door.

‘Joel! Get the fuck up!’

For one disconcerting moment between sleep and wake, he’s in his bedroom back in Texas. He half expects to look up to see the posters on the wall and the perpetually overflowing laundry basket at the foot of his bed.

Blinking through the urge to close his eyes, the colours fade and he stares blearily at the digital clock on his bedside table. 

7:30.

What the fuck? More often than not he has to drag the teenager out of bed by the ankles, kicking and swearing, at 7:50 to get to school at 8:00.

His knees groan as he staggers onto his feet, grabbing yesterday’s jeans from the floor and pulling them on. He finds a passably clean shirt about five deep on a chair, which he shrugs on over his white undervest. With a grunt, he yanks open the door and heads downstairs on bare feet, frowning at unfamiliar sounds coming from the kitchen.

Joel pauses in the doorway, hands on hips. ‘What do you think you’re doin’?’

Deeming his question unworthy of a response, Ellie tosses him a roll of her eyes over her shoulder and resolutely ignores him.

Shuffling closer, he asks, ‘Are you - cookin’?’

Brandishing the spatula at him, she snarls, ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’

He goads her with a smirk. ‘To be honest, it looks like you threw up in the pan.’

Ellie elbows him hard in the stomach. ‘Fuck you, man!’

He grins. There’s nothing like winding her up first thing in the morning. Grabbing the pan, he bins the ruined eggs, scraping off the burnt bits stuck to the bottom. ‘Crack some more eggs, I’ll make ‘em.’

Ten minutes later, in their usual seats at the kitchen table, they tuck into scrambled eggs and buttered toast.

‘Slow down,’ warns Joel as Ellie wolfs down hers. ‘You’re gonna choke.’

‘You hurry up! Can’t be late for my first day,’ she garbles through a mouthful of food.

‘Why can’t you be like this about school?’ he grumbles, then he winces as his teeth catch something crunchy. Picking it out, he gives her a pointed look. ‘Eggshell.’

‘Calcium,’ she shoots back without even looking up, too busy shoving the rest of her breakfast into her mouth, stuffing her cheeks like a chipmunk.

That one word stops Joel in his tracks and hurls him twenty years back in time.

But then Ellie is jumping up and practically throwing her empty plate into the sink, sneakers squeaking on the tiled floor as she dashes out of the kitchen. ‘C’mon, old man!’

Joel smiles, the memory warm like sun on his face. 

He shakes his head, slowly finishing his breakfast - like he wishes he did that day.

They turn out to be fifteen minutes early. 

To his chagrin, Ellie admits freely that she lied about the time so they wouldn’t be late. He’s a punctual guy, thank you very much. He certainly doesn’t need to be schooled by the little brat. 

Joel sits on the stairs, while Ellie has her face squished up against the door, unabashedly leaving smudges on the glass panels as she keeps up an uninterrupted running commentary on every last piece of clothing she can see.

He tunes her out easily, shifting in his seat so that his right ear is to the door. In his hands is the blouse that you left behind at Tommy and Maria’s at the baby shower. He’s been meaning to return it to you, but the week got away from him, and there’s no time like the present.

Considering the state of his knees, he impresses himself with the speed at which he stands at the sound of footsteps on the otherwise quiet main street. Squaring his shoulders, he discreetly pulls on his shirt, suddenly seeing wrinkles everywhere in the fabric, and runs his fingers through his hair, wishing he’d taken another look in the mirror before he left the house -

But it’s Lucy who appears at the bottom of the stairs with her unfailingly sunny smile.

‘Hi, you must be Ellie,’ she chirps.

She eyes Lucy cautiously, lips pinched to one side. ‘Where’s Pin?’

Joel growls. ‘Manners.’

Ellie puts her hands up in surrender. ‘Sorry. I meant - nice to meet you, where’s Pin?’

Lucy beams good-naturedly and fiddles with the lock. ‘She’s off today, and it’s all my fault because I made her work three weekends in a row. You’ll be helping me in the front anyway, so I’ll show you the ropes.’ Stepping aside and swinging the door open, she prompts, ‘In you go now, hon.’

Ellie doesn’t even look back at him, rushing into the shop like a thoroughbred fresh out of the starting gates.

Pocketing the keys, Lucy smiles. ‘Hi Joel.’

‘Hey,’ he nods back. ‘Sorry about Ellie.’

‘Don’t be, I was exactly like her when I was younger. Still am sometimes,’ she jokes. Then with a sly side eye, she remarks, ‘And honestly, you look more disappointed that I showed up than she does.’

He splutters, ‘Dunno what you’re talkin’ about.’ 

She smirks knowingly, gesturing at the blouse clutched tightly in his left fist. ‘I can pass that to Pin for ya.’

Joel hesitates for just a second, and Lucy bursts into laughter, elbowing him teasingly. ‘The way your face fell! I’m joking, Miller. Relax.’

He shakes his head. ‘It’s fine, guess I’ll give it to her next time she’s ‘round.’

Just then, from the depths of the shop, Ellie gasps dramatically and yells at the top of her lungs, ‘I want thissssssss one!’ 

Meeting Lucy’s eyes, Joel asks, ‘Sure you gonna be ok left alone with her?’

She shrugs. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’

He flashes her a thumbs up. ‘I’ll pick her up at three then.’

He’s about to walk away from the Outfitters when Lucy’s voice stops him. ‘Hey, Joel!’

Looking up at the wraparound porch, he raises an eyebrow in a silent question.

‘She lives in the yellow cottage on the same street as the shoe shop. Keep going north, you can’t miss it,’ she says with a two-finger salute and a parting line that he’s heard before. ‘Say hi to Pin for me!’

You’ve always had a soft spot for the turn of the season, when late spring blooms graciously give way to summer buds. The grass smells greener, and the air is pregnant with pollen and nectar. It’s not overly warm yet, but you can feel the intensity in the sunlight, muted only by the early hour. Good thing you’re starting early.

It’s unseasonably warm for June, and the vegetable patch on the far end of your garden has suddenly burst into life. The cauliflower has finally come through after two failed crops in a row, and both the tomato vines and pepper plants are thriving. Closer to the ground, the onion and garlic shoots are patiently waiting to be pulled, and asparagus shoots spear through the earth in tidy lines one after another.

Pulling on a hat and gloves, you get to work.

You’re halfway through the second row of onions when there’s a faint knock on the front door. Even though you’ve only been in the sun for a little while, the coolness inside the house feels like a balm to your skin as you pad inside, peeling off your gloves before reaching for the door. 

Swinging it open, you’re stumped by the sight of Joel Miller on your doorstep.

You haven’t seen him since the party, where you’d agreed on a start date and time for Ellie’s first shift, and -

Since the kiss. 

You’ve felt his absence keenly. You’ve caught yourself loitering on street corners, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, knowing you’ll be able to spot him just by the way his shoulders swing with his long strides. You’ve kept an ear out for the southern lilt that has chased goosebumps across your skin, or any mention of his name, but all in vain.

Jackson has a habit of growing in size, usually in direct proportion to one’s desperation.

Now that he’s somehow here, you’re aware you’re gaping at him, so broad that his shoulders are blocking out the daylight. Too many years out of practice to count, you have no idea what the protocol is when you next see the man who literally made your knees buckle with just his lips and nothing else.

‘Mornin’, he finally says with a small smile. 

You stammer. ‘H-hello. What, um, I mean, how -’

‘I dropped off Ellie at the shop and Lucy told me where you live,’ he explains, shaking out the blouse in his hands. ‘Thought I’d come ‘round and return this.’

Your palm twitches with the urge to smack yourself on the forehead. Of course that’s why he’s here. 

Taking the top from him, you smile back gratefully. ‘Thank you. And of course, it’s Ellie’s first day. I’m sorry I can’t be there, but I’ve been subbing for Lucy on the weekends for a month straight and I needed a break.’

He waves away your apology. ‘Count yourself lucky. She was just ‘bout bouncin’ off the walls.’

‘Bless her heart,’ you chuckle, breaking off when his eyes flicker over you, as if he’s just registered your very minimalist ensemble of a white cotton tank top and denim cut-offs. Your skin prickles under his scrutiny, flattery winning out against self-consciousness at the deliberate drag of his gaze over you, a thoughtful weight behind it. 

That is until something catches his attention, and you flinch when he peers under the brim of your hat. ‘What -’

Before you can even articulate your question, he’s taken one step towards you, his work boots heavy on your creaky wooden porch. His voice is low but rough around the edges, just the way you like it. 

‘You got some dirt -’ he swipes his index finger firmly on the end of your nose. ‘Right here.’

Your jaw hangs open, then clamps shut, in quick succession, the shell of your ears burning hot at his fleeting touch. Throat suddenly dry, you barely manage to squeak, ‘Thanks.’ 

One day, you will at least try and keep your cool around this man. But alas, it is not this day.

Rearranging himself, Joel leans on the doorframe with his arms crossed and remarks conversationally, ‘You look outdoorsy this mornin’.’

Flashing the soil-stained gloves at him, you try to keep your voice steady. ‘I’m just doing some gardening out back. The vegetable patch needs harvesting.’

He purses his lips at that. ‘Didn’t peg you as the gardenin’ type.’

You don’t know where the bravado comes from, but you swat him on the arm with the gloves and quip, ‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me.’

‘You got me there,’ he huffs a laugh and gestures towards the back of the house. ‘Anythin’ I can do to help?’

The refusal is on the tip of your tongue. You don’t say yes to a whole lot nowadays, other than when Lucy makes you. But then you hear yourself ask, a challenge in your voice that you didn’t know you had. ‘I don’t know. Are you any good with your hands, Joel Miller?’

At the boldness in your words, which you don’t take back, Joel’s eyebrows reach for his hairline. Biting your lip but standing your ground, you watch him grind his jaw as he considers his response. 

‘Why don’t you try me, sweetheart?’

‘Like this?’

‘Wait - slow down.’

A shuffle of hands. ‘How about now?’

‘That’s it. Yes, that’s good. Keep going.’

A raspy grunt. ‘I think I’m almost there.’

‘Yeah, that’s right, don’t stop -’

‘Alright, you ready?’

‘Come on, Joel -’

With one last flick, the knife slices clean through the base of the stalk, and Joel plucks the cauliflower head out of its leafy cradle with a triumphant grin.

‘How’s that for good hands, huh?’ he crows. 

‘I’ll get back to you in the fall when we see if the cauliflower grows back,’ you tease. 

He huffs, squinting up at you through the sun. ‘You’re hard to please, sweetheart.’

You preen at the playful turn of the conversation. If you were a little braver, you’d give him a mischievous wink - but for now, you gesture at the patch. ‘Can you handle the rest? I’ll get started on the peppers.’

He nods. ‘Leave ‘em with me.’

The pepper plants are having a great season, standing at four feet tall and heaving with fruits. You’ve left them alone on the vine for the last three weeks to sweeten, and they have dutifully ripened into a beautiful red. Settling onto your knees, you methodologically comb through the peppers from top to bottom, cutting off each one by the stalks.

It’s a big harvest, half of which you plan on giving away to your neighbours in exchange for their berries and lemons. Some you will cook. Lucy is due to come over for dinner, and she loves your stuffed pepper recipe. The rest you’ll have to find time to roast, skin, deseed and preserve in oil, which will last the rest of the year -

A shadow falls over you, stilling your hands and drawing your eyes upwards.

The sight is familiar - feet planted shoulder-wide by your knees, chin tucked in as he stares down at you, your nose level with the front of the jeans that you picked out for him - you’ve seen it all before, except for one small detail.

Joel is sweating. A lot.

His thin plaid shirt - you’re not sure if you’ve seen him in anything else yet - is sticking to him like a second skin, clinging to the solid outline of his biceps as he holds onto the basket full of cauliflower heads. The sunlight glances off the perspiration dotting his hairline, and the wispy grays that normally curl away from his face have wilted in the humidity. 

There’s a flush under his skin as he swipes at his forehead with his shirt sleeve, and your gaze follows a bead of sweat dripping down the prominent vein on the side of his neck, and into the deep V of his shirt - wait, is that the outline of an undervest that you can just make out underneath -

‘Should I take the cauliflower in?’

‘Um -’ you stammer to a halt, eyes still plastered to the front of his chest, just like his shirt.

He clearly mistakes your gawking for something else, flashing you an apologetic smile at his state. ‘Sorry, I work up a sweat real easy.’

Oh, come on. Now all you’re thinking about is how else he works up a sweat -

Seized by the sudden need to get out of the heat in more than one sense of the word, you rip the basket from his grasp and turn on your heels to sprint into the house with a choked, ‘I’ll be right back!’

You nearly trip over your own feet running into the kitchen, your heart thumping so loudly in its ribcage it feels like the whole house is shaking to the beat. 

And all that man has done is sweat in front of you.

‘Pull yourself together, Pin,’ you mutter to yourself as you tip the cauliflower heads onto the kitchen table. Grabbing a jug from the cupboard, you put it in the sink and turn on the faucet. Watching the trickle of water, you make yourself take three deep breaths. 

Joel’s kind enough to do you a favour, you could at least have the courtesy to not perv on him while he helps you out.

Nodding determinedly to yourself, you pluck two glasses from the drying rack, putting them inside the empty basket that you hook on your elbow, and march back outside -

Only to almost swallow your tongue and drop the full jug of water right at your feet.

Joel’s sweat-soaked shirt is now hanging on your washing line like a white flag, having surrendered to the heat. And just like that, the very image that has been inconveniently seared into the back of your eyes since the party is suddenly before you in all its glory, in the morning sun, out in the open air.

The white undervest stretches over the breadth of him, and if he didn’t look so good in it, you would’ve laughed at the comical way the flimsy straps are clinging onto his shoulders for dear life. Then he bends over to inspect the tomato vines, the bottom of his vest riding up with the movement, teasing a flash of skin above the waistline of the jeans pulled tight over his behind. One big hand reaches out, the outline of his arm flexing as he does, and he palms the bottom of one tomato, testing if it’s ripe for the picking. 

Except in your head, it’s something else he’s cupping with such rapturous attention. 

He doesn’t notice you until he stands up with a low grunt of effort. Pointing an apologetic finger at his shirt, he says, ‘I hope you don’t mind, I’m sweatin’ right through it like nobody’s business.’

You make a noise in your throat that you pass off as an answer, and with shaky hands, pour him a full glass of water which you shove in his direction.

‘Appreciate it, sweetheart.’ He salutes you and takes a long drag, tipping his head back. You watch, transfixed, as the sunlight bounces off the lines of sweat criss-crossing down the strong column of his neck, and the hard bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.

Suddenly, you’re parched. But you don’t trust yourself to stay upright, let alone pour yourself a drink.

‘It’s hot today,’ Joel breaks the loaded silence, though it’s possible that it’s unilaterally so on your side.

‘Uh-huh,’ you croak, still holding onto the water jug like a shield.

He peers at you with a touch of mischief. ‘You ain’t gonna swoon or anythin’ are you?’

Probably. And definitely not for the reason he has in mind. 

You attempt a weak smile that may have come off as a grimace. ‘I’ll try not to.’

Reassured, he nods towards the garlic patch. ‘C’mon. Let’s get our hands dirty, sweetheart.’

By the time the vegetable patch has been thoroughly picked and the baskets crammed full, the sun is high in the sky, the morning clouds burned off with the heat.

Joel isn’t the only one who’s sweating through his clothes - your light cotton top is now clinging uncomfortably to your skin, sweat dripping down your sternum and dampening the cups of your bra. You heave a sigh of relief when he helps you move the haul to a shaded corner near the porch where you have an outdoor sink and wheel hose installed.

Emptying the root vegetables into the sink, Joel steps back and casts a critical eye over the rain gutters that line the eaves of your house. Fingers spread over one jutting hip, he leans his weight on his right leg, the stance creating all kinds of angles that are completely unnecessary in this kind of heat.

He points at the leaves and branches that are clearly sticking out from the channels, but you’re only really interested in studying his large hands. The bumps and veins on the back of them, the watch with the broken face on his left wrist, the dirt coating his thick fingers, pushed under tidily trimmed nails. The logical thought that follows is how he would leave dark streaks on your white top when he pulls you in by the waist - 

‘Looks like the gutters need cleanin’,’ Joel declares. 

Well, the gutter your head is currently dunked in can certainly do with a good scrub.

‘Rainy season doesn’t start for another few months, they can wait.’

He uh-uh's sternly. ‘I’ve heard that before. Do you have a ladder?’

‘You really don’t have to -’ you protest, but he won’t hear it.

‘It’s no big deal, I’m sweaty anyway,’ he replies. ‘Besides, you’ll be doing me a favour keepin’ me occupied. I don’t pick Ellie up till three.’

You bite your lip. ‘But I feel bad working you so hard.’

Without skipping a beat, he winks. ‘Don’t worry your pretty head, sweetheart - I like workin’ for it.’

Jesus Christ. This man needs to be locked up and the key thrown to a colony of clickers.

The inner contractor in Joel comes out to play as he climbs deftly up the extension ladder propped up against the eaves, gloves on and a tarp bag tied to the top rung for collecting the debris. Discreetly, you shuffle around the freestanding sink so that you have a clear view of him as you turn on the water and start washing the dirt off the onions.

He’s starting close by, just a couple of feet away from you, patiently scooping out the dead leaves and twigs by the handful. Up on the ladder with his side to you, you’re eye level with the swell of his belly, which stretches the seams of the vest, and the underside of it peeks out every time he reaches up for the gutters. Your cheeks warm with the memory of how the soft folds felt against you, so warm and solid that you ache to reach out, push the flimsy vest up and nuzzle the tender skin with your nose -

It takes you a couple of minutes to realise that you’re not even pretending to be washing the onions anymore, the hose running in your idle grasp as you stare, head cocked to one side.

You don’t hear him when he turns to you. ‘Can pass me the hose?’

You stare dumbly back at him. ‘Huh?’

‘The hose, Pin,’ he repeats, a playful condescension in his smirk, like he knows exactly what you’ve been looking at. ‘That onion looks sparkly clean.’

You’re not sure what happened. One second you’re holding onto the hose with the intention of turning off the water before passing it to Joel, but your brain skips that crucial first step, and the next thing you know, you’re pointing it straight at him, spraying him in water from face to chest.

As he splutters, you shove the hose into the sink and screech, mortified. ‘Oh my god! I’m so sorry!’

You watch in horror as the water trickles from his hair, down his stubbled chin and onto his chest - okay, that’s a lie. It’s definitely not horror that’s twisting in your tummy and then much, much lower between your thighs.

And if you thought this man looked good sweaty, well - you’ve seen nothing yet.

He might as well put you out of your misery and take off his undervest right about now. It’s completely see-through, pebbled nipples and the firm ridges of his pecs showing through the wet fabric, rounded out by the endearing soft pouch of his belly. 

He wears the early summer tan so well, and for the first time since the outbreak, you think about the swim club in your old neighbourhood. Watching the water drip off his skin, it’s not a stretch to imagine this man pulling himself out of the pool after a quick dip to cool down, before stretching out on a sunlounger to dry in the sun - all in slow motion, set to the track of a corny sax riff.

‘I’m sorry,’ you say on reflex, but the apology rings hollow with the way your gaze lingers over his chest, and he notices.

He chuckles, carding one hand through his wet hair to slick it back, standing taller under your eyes. ‘As I said - never a dull moment with you, sweetheart.’ 

Joel takes his time, clearing out all the blockages and hosing the gutters clean so that you don’t have to worry about them for another six months. He dumps the leaves and sticks in the compost post, rinses the soiled gloves and his hands clean, before taking his shirt off the washing line and heading into the blessed shade.

He finds you in the kitchen, back to the door, putting away clean plates and cutlery from the drying rack, porcelain knocking together and metal clanging.

This is the most he’s seen of you, in a tank top and shorts, bathed in light spilling in from the large windows that open out into the backyard. He sees touches of your workshop right here in the kitchen - dried herbs and seasoning in mismatched but tidy boxes on the shelves, knives organised by size on a magnetic knife block, plates and bowls arranged in neat stacks behind glass cabinets.

Not wanting to alarm you, he deliberately scrapes his shoe on the tiled floor to make his presence known.

Whipping around - and just a touch startled - you smile with a quiet hey, and Joel’s not sure if he’ll ever get over how the sweet shyness still clings to the curve of your lips despite the fact that he’s kissed you right there.

He stays by the door for now and says, ‘I put the ladder back, and the gutters are all done, but I spotted some shingles missing on the roof while I was up there. I’ll come back to fix ‘em some other time.’

‘Thank you so much Joel, but really, don’t worry about the roof. You’ve done enough.’

‘You basically got Ellie outta my hair every Saturday for the next few months, so I’ll have plenty of time to kill,’ he half-jokes.

A comfortable lull sets in, and he looks up at the ticking clock, surprised that it’s almost noon. Shifting his feet, he opens his mouth and is about to excuse himself when you blurt out, ‘I’m sorry I soaked you.’

The jury's out on who's more taken aback by your phrasing. Exasperated, you groan, ‘I did not mean to say that.’

Joel’s kept a respectful distance since he arrived at the house, the pliant weight of you in his arms and your taste on his tongue kept firmly at bay in the back of his mind, not wanting to bring up anything that would make you uncomfortable in the light of day. But now, he pushes himself off the threshold of the door and crosses the cosy kitchen, pleased that you stay put when he plants himself in front of you, toe to toe.

Brushing a finger under your chin so that you’re staring up at him, he deliberately pitches his voice low and gruff, the double entendre almost crude in its delivery. ‘Just so we’re clear, you can soak me any time, sweetheart, in any way you want.’

Your lips part and your gaze darkens, and he feels his body instinctively react, invisible threads reeling him bodily into you. When you speak, your voice quivers, his name at once a single-worded reprimand and a needy whine that takes him right back to his brother’s spare bedroom. ‘Joel -’

‘Yes, Pin?’ he baits you playfully, just like he did that night, taking one last step so that you’re crowded against the countertop, bookending you with his palms planted on the wooden surface.

Finally shedding that last bit of shyness holding you back, you retort with no real bite, ‘You’re such a tease, Miller.’

‘Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it,’ he quips easily, his attention on your mouth. He hears your shaky intake of air, the whole moment suspended on tenterhooks as you skirt each other on the brink -

Just then, a breeze drifts in from the open window above the sink, providing instant relief from the humidity that hangs heavy in the air. All of a sudden, he’s acutely aware of the fact that he’s sweaty all over, so much so that he might actually smell. 

Self-conscious, he clears his throat and murmurs ‘I should probably go, I need a shower and a change of clothes -’

‘You can shower here,’ you interrupt, stumbling over your words in your haste. ‘I have a spare shirt somewhere.’

You don’t need to ask him twice. 

He smiles. ‘Sounds good, sweetheart.’

Your ensuite bathroom, like what he has seen of your house, is clean and organised. There’s a neat stockpile of soap bars in the cupboard, and he spots the familiar bottles of regulation shampoo and toothpaste that the town mass produces.

The water is plenty hot as he efficiently lathers himself top to bottom and front to back, but the pressure is a bit weak for his liking and can be easily fixed. Something else to add to the list.

The towel you left on the rack is soft and smells like the sun. Patting himself dry and rubbing it through his hair, he wipes away the condensation off the mirror above the sink. He peers at his reflection, ruminating that it’s time for a shave, and pushes back his wet hair so the strands don’t get in his eyes.

Out of his clothes, only his jeans are passably dry, so he forgoes his boxers and pulls them on, carefully doing up the zipper. Using his shirt as a sling, he bundles up all the dirty clothes and opens the bathroom door.

He catches you coming into the bedroom as he steps out, and your jaw drops at the sight of him in just his jeans before you slap your palms dramatically over your eyes, the tshirt you’re holding onto covering your whole face and muffling your voice. ‘I’m so sorry! I should’ve knocked!’

Joel chuckles at your reaction. ‘Sweetheart, it's your house. And I’m not exactly naked.’

Lowering your hands sheepishly, you still clutch the tshirt to your chest like a security blanket, admitting, ‘Sorry, I just - I just realised I’ve never had a man in here before.’

Something wraps itself around his stomach and pulls, and it takes him a beat to put a name to it because it’s been so long. It’s possessiveness that rushes through his veins and goes straight to his head, and he has to bite the inside of his mouth to keep his voice from wavering. He demands, ‘Never?’

‘Never.’

He lets the word wash over him, appeasing the beast in him for now. With a slow nod, he takes three measured steps towards you, stopping just an arm’s length away. Gently coaxing you to let go of the purple tshirt, he snorts at the huge Lakers logo blazoned across the front. 

He quips, ‘I’m more of a Longhorns fan myself, actually.’

The tension cracks, and you grin back, ‘Well, not anymore.’

After your confession, it’s probably redundant, but he wants to hear you say it. Flashing the tshirt at you, he asks, ‘Old boyfriend’s?’

It’s the most personal question that’s been exchanged between you so far by a mile, and it’s probably none of his business, but you can’t explain why your pulse spikes at the way his normally warm gaze hardens with something unfamiliar.

‘No,’ you answer. ‘I keep some of the stock here when there’s not enough room at the shop, that’s all.’

Joel rasps, ‘Good.’

With that one syllable, his shoulders visibly relax, suddenly drawing your attention to his topless form, which you’ve been too mortified to actually look at. It’s a lot to take in, and even though you’ve seen most of him already, there is one conspicuous part that you haven’t yet -

But before your eyes can trail that low, Joel turns. ‘Thanks, I appreciate it. I’ll just -’

You’re slow to catch onto why he trails off in the middle of the sentence, still far too distracted by his general state of undress to notice until he’s already made his way to the top of your neatly made bed. And then you see it…

The flannel peeking out from underneath the duvet.

Oh. Fuck.

With an almost flippant flick of his wrist, Joel peels back the corner of the bedspread. Wordlessly, he stares down at the red plaid shirt he lent you at the baby shower, tucked snugly in your bed, buried half under your pillow. 

He stares at it for so long that you interrupt the silence for once.

‘I’ve been meaning to return it,’ you squeak, hands flailing awkwardly, desperately wanting something to hold onto. ‘I just - forgot.’

Joel half-turns to you, arching an eyebrow. ‘You’ve been keepin’ it in your bed?’

Backed into a corner - and you’re not proud of it - you lie. Outrageously. ‘I don’t know how it got in there.'

He picks up the shirt by the collar. It’s wrinkled all over and obviously worn in. He smirks, ‘I’m not so sure about that.’

You’re this close to swivelling around and making a break for it, but as soon as your axis of balance tilts backwards, Joel grabs you by the wrist and pulls you in, hauling you firmly into his bare chest.

‘You’ve been wearin’ it to sleep, haven’t you?’ he asks in a tone that brooks no argument. 

Your fingers curl into his chest, his skin blazing warm under your palms. There’s no point fibbing anymore, and you admit, ‘Yes.’

His voice is hoarse when he asks, ‘You wear anythin’ underneath it, sweetheart?’

You hold your breath for one long moment, the tension in the room swelling so quickly that your ears pop. Eventually, under his patient yet heated stare, you shake your head, lips sealed.

His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, and you feel his grip on your hips tighten.

‘No bra?’ he prompts.

‘No bra,’ you parrot back.

His jaw clenches so tightly that you’re surprised he manages to articulate his next question. ‘No panties?’

‘No panties -’

You barely get the word out before Joel is kissing you, pushing the syllables right back into your mouth until you swallow them with a whimper.

And then he’s pulling back, growling against yours, ‘And what do you do naked in my shirt, hmm?’

You stutter, ‘I - I think about you -’

An undignified squeal escapes you when he suddenly spins you around, your back hitting the bed, denying you the chance to catch your breath. The ceiling fan turns directly above you, but it does nothing to quell the heat between your bodies as Joel clambers over you on his hands and knees, sliding his mouth over yours again in a hard kiss.

You always thought your bed was a decent size, but now, with the bulk of this man hovering over you, you’re not so sure anymore. His ridiculously wide shoulders fill your entire field of vision, and even though he’s holding himself up with his forearms by your ears, you can almost feel the full weight of him through sheer anticipation of his touch. 

His heated words brush by your ear, making you shudder. ‘Tell me what you think about, sweetheart.’

‘Your arms, your shoulders -’ you hesitate, dropping your voice shyly. ‘Your belly.’

Joel looks taken aback. ‘My belly?’

You duck your head almost guiltily. ‘Yes.’

His brows draw together in an endearingly confused frown. ‘Why?’

‘That time in the workshop, when we met, you were sucking it in so hard you could hardly breathe - but you don’t anymore.’

The dots connect, and his lips part in an oh. ‘I didn’t even realise.’

‘I know. That’s why it’s sexy,’ you point out.

He looks at you incredulously, as if you’ve lost your mind. ‘My belly is sexy?’

You grin. ‘Yes, and your confidence. You walk differently now, you know.’

He makes a noise at the back of his throat, a self-satisfied smirk tilting his lips upwards. ‘You been watchin’ me?’

‘Maybe,’ you tease.

You exhale long and heavy through your nose when he sucks delicately on your bottom lip, opening you up so that he can dip inside, stealing a taste of your tongue with his. 

‘Been thinkin’ about you all week, sweetheart,’ he whispers, trailing fire across your cheek and the hollow behind your ear. 

‘I haven’t seen you around at all,’ you whine, tipping your head back as he nudges the tip of his proud nose down your throat.

‘I know, it took three fuckin’ days to clean up after the party,’ he complains, his disgruntled tone prompting a giggle from you. ‘Never again.’

‘I’m not so sure about that. There will be plenty of birthday parties to look forward to, Uncle Joel -’

An open-mouthed kiss on the side of your neck catches you off guard, the unfamiliar texture of the wet suction and scrape of his teeth jolts you clean off the mattress, sending you body slamming into his ribcage.

Joel hums, pleased at your reaction. ‘So sensitive. I’ve barely touched you yet, sweetheart.’

It’s immediate, the shame that burns under your skin at his remark despite knowing he doesn’t mean anything by it, and Joel frowns at the way you stiffen under him. Regret colours his words as he cups your cheek. ‘Pin, I’m sorry, that came out wrong -’

‘No, that’s the thing. You’re not wrong,’ you interrupt with a shake of your head. There’s no point denying it - you’re a grown woman, and there’s something fundamentally embarrassing about losing touch with that part of yourself over the years. ‘I - it’s been so long, I don’t even know my own body anymore.’

His eyes dip downwards and slowly, over the curve of your breasts and the arch of your back. With an encouraging smile, he argues, ‘I’m not sure about that. Looks like your body’s reactin’ perfectly to me.’

Your lips twitch despite yourself. ‘You’re just saying that to get into my pants.’

He takes the unexpected turn in the conversation in stride and runs with it. ‘Trust me, sweetheart, if I were tryin’, I’d already be in them.’

‘You’re such an ass, Joel Miller.’

His roguish grin has you squirming and fisting the sheets underneath you. ‘I dunno. Somethin’ tells me you like it.’

Wrapping one palm on the back of his neck, you drag him into you again, relishing in the weight of him as he pins you to the bed with the broad frame of his shoulders. He moans into your mouth, claiming it with deep strokes of his tongue, while his calloused palms sneak under the hem of your shirt and pull you into him by the small of your back.

Even as your hips buck, begging for friction, Joel holds back, propping himself up on his knees to keep a tenuous grip on his self-control. Pulling back from your lips with a wet pop, he assures you through heavy breaths, ‘We can stop any time, sweetheart. Just say the word.’

Your response comes fast and sure, but he can read the hesitance between the lines, ‘I - I don’t want to stop.’

He presses a patient kiss to your lips, but backs away before you can deepen it. ‘How about this - we’ll flip you over so that you’re on top, and you decide what you want to do. Is that ok?’

You pause to consider his proposal, sliding your tongue over your bottom lip - he’s this close to kissing you right there and then. You ask shyly, ‘And it’s ok if we - you know, just make out?’

He smiles. ‘I can do with some good old-fashioned neckin’.’

‘Ok then -’

You yelp when Joel turns you over without warning, the sudden movement making your head spin. Sitting up against the headboard, he drags you in his lap and asks, ‘Alright?’

You nod with a nervous smile. It’s intimidating, being so close to him that there’s nowhere else to look but into his thoughtful eyes that are watching you for any signs of discomfort. Catching your breath, you settle into the moment and realise that you’re straddling him, hands clinging onto his shoulders, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. His belly is warm and soft where he’s pressed up against you, but lower, nudging insistently between your legs -

Joel is hard.

The revelation robs you of air, want and need rushing like blood to your head, and you stiffen, not knowing what to do.

Joel catches on - you’re beginning to think that nothing ever escapes him - and he reminds you, ‘Just kissin’, ok, sweetheart?’

Snapping out of your freeze frame, you nod, ‘Yes. Ok.’

Giving you somewhere to start, he prompts, ‘Where do you want my hands?’

Tugging on his wrists, you watch his jaw go slack when you place his palms squarely on your ass, where your denim shorts hardly cover the top of your thighs. He lets out a lewd moan at the way your soft curves fill his hands, fingers squeezing and kneading greedily, and you push your hips back into his contact. 

‘Not so shy after all, hmm?’ he rasps.

You preen at his praise, and riding the wave of boldness, you tip forward and press your lips to Joel’s before you could overthink it. Over the roar of blood in your ears, you hear him suck in a shaky breath, and you feel the deep groan in his throat taper into a whimper when you swipe your tongue into his mouth.

You’re completely unprepared for the power the sound unleashes in you.

Somewhere in your consciousness, a door is cracked open, and memory crackles at the edges of your mind. Each shuddered breath shared, every slide of skin on skin, brings to the surface what you thought you’d forgotten. 

Your fingers burrow into the still wet locks at his nape, earning a loud moan from Joel when you pull on the grays that have distracted you on more than one occasion. He nips his way sloppily down your neck, trailing spit and beard burn as he goes, while your palms skate over his chest and down, down, down until your fingernails drag over the pliant folds of his tummy, hanging over the waistband of his jeans.

‘Sweetheart,’ he groans brokenly at the contact, forehead knocking into yours.

Spreading your fingers over soft flesh, you choke on an inhale when he bodily rocks into your palms. Your thumb catches the hollow of his belly button, fingers tenderly squeezing the creases and dimples of his belly. His eyes crack open under tightly knitted eyebrows, vulnerability etched in every line on his face.

Something shifts - something that neither of you can take back. And suddenly, it’s not just kissing anymore.

Caught somewhere between writhing instinctively under his touch and a deliberate pursuit of friction, your hips find a rhythm that has the seat of your panties quickly twisting and dampening as you grind on the erection straining against the zipper of his jeans.

Blunt nails bite into your thighs as Joel growls, ‘Shit, sweetheart. That’s it.’

You want to bury your face in his neck, feeling too wanton in the way you’re panting in needy whimpers, but he preempts that on no uncertain terms. ‘I want to see everythin’. Look at me.’

You do just that - you can’t deny this man even if you tried - watching him watch you with his pupils blown wide and wild, wetting his bottom lip the same time his eyes drop to your tits, as if he can see right through the thin fabric. He doesn’t touch you anywhere else though, his hands staying where you put them. You can feel his grip dig harder and harder into the swell of your ass, but he doesn’t try to change your rhythm, giving you free rein to ride him any way you need.

When your peripheral vision starts to go, you know it’s not a coincidence that your thoroughly soaked panties shift and strain against your clit, pinching it just so that you cry out, hips faltering.

Joel bares his teeth, and you feel his hips rut upwards into you, his restraint slipping. ‘There you go. You’re close, aren’t you?’

You can only nod, frantically grinding into him now, your whole mind narrowing until the only thought that remains is chasing that high that you can almost taste. Everything swells, electricity fills the air, his name a sacred chant on your tongue as you claw at his back, teetering precariously on the brink of something that promises to devastate you.

‘Joel, Joel, Joel -’

He catches you when you break - you fling yourself at him, knocking into him so hard that the back of his head hits the wall, but he doesn’t even flinch. Tucked safely into the crook of his neck, you whine and wail as you thrash in his hold, and his nostrils flare at your scent. He can smell you, he can smell the slick leaking from your pussy, humid and heady in the air between you, making his mouth water as he aches to taste you - all of you. 

One day.

Right now, the hinge of his jaw almost cracks as you milk the last remnants of your orgasm with a needy swivel of your hips, rubbing against his cock at an angle that makes his vision swim, and he knows he’s too far gone. His control slips like shifting sands, and a primal instinct takes over as he bucks roughly into you, fingertips leaving imprints in your skin that you will feel for days after.

‘Oh fuck, sweetheart, wait, I’m - shit, I’m gonna -’

When it hits him, it’s fucking relentless - he cums and cums until his voice goes hoarse with your name, until it feels like his abdomen would cave in and collapse, spurting and spilling until it feels like he’s turned inside out. It goes everywhere, thick, milky strands filling the gaps in his jeans and sliding down his legs in a sticky mess, and he slumps bonelessly into the headboard, panting against your lips as he catches his breath.

Sweetly, gently, he tilts his chin up just enough to kiss you, his nose nudging your cheek intimately when he pulls away, his lungs too deprived of air to keep going. He winces when you shift above him, knowing that you can feel the wet spot pooling under your bare thighs.

Joel breaks the sluggish silence first, cracking a grin. ‘So much for just makin’ out.’

You clumsily climb off his lap and crash land sideways onto the mattress. ‘Is that a complaint, Joel Miller?’

He drapes a heavy arm over you and pulls back you flush into him. ‘Well, these jeans are fuckin’ ruined. I want a refund.’

‘I’m afraid we don’t accept cum-stained returns. Store policy.’

He pffts. ‘Damnit. Should’ve read the fine print.’

You grin. ‘Well, at least there's something deeply poetic about cumming in the jeans that I picked out for you.’

‘Touché, sweetheart,’ he grunts and presses a kiss to your forehead. Glancing down at the unmistakable wet patch on the denim, he asks hopefully, ‘Any chance you got some pants I can borrow?’

Ellie bounces her leg irritably, hunched over on the stairs exactly where Joel was sitting this morning. Where the fuck is he? He’s twenty minutes late, and he had the nerve to get all huffy when she lied about the start time today. Unbelievable.

Moodily looking left and right, there’s still no sign of him. She’s about to give up and wait for him at home when something conspicuously purple comes to a stop in front of her. 

Her jaw hits the floor.

‘Oh. My. God.’

She’s never been high before, but she’s pretty sure this is the stuff hallucinations are made of.

This being Joel Miller in a purple tshirt with a tacky logo she doesn’t recognise printed on the front and khaki cargo shorts that cut off at the knees, holding a basket of vegetables that she’s pretty sure he doesn’t eat.

With a roll of his eyes, he snaps, ‘Shut your mouth, you’re trappin’ flies.’

Pasting on the most obnoxious grin she can muster, Ellie croons, ‘Man, don’t you look pretty.’

Turning on his heel, Joel starts walking without looking back. ‘Shut up.’

Jogging to keep up, she cackles, ‘Hey, did you fall into a wormhole and went shopping at a farmer’s market in 1999?’

‘Shut up.’

‘You really should wear shorts more often, y’know, show off those knees. And purple really is your colour, Barney!’

Joel frowns, shooting her a sidelong glare. ‘How the hell do you know who Barney is?’

Ellie shrugs. ‘What do you think they teach us at school?’

He’s the one who starts it. The quake in his shoulders would have been imperceptible to anyone else, but nowadays, there’s not much that he can hide from her. As usual, she giggles first, which trails into a squeal when Joel gives her a shove on the back, sending her stumbling over her shoes.

‘Fuck you, man!’ she snickers and basically rugby tackles him, but he barely budges, lips pulling back into a toothy grin. 

Across the street, unbeknownst to the pair, Tommy smiles to himself as he watches his big brother laugh, really laugh - the kind that has him doubling over and gasping for air through watery eyes. For the first time since the world ended, he looks up at the sky with a reassuring nod, and he knows deep down - Joel will be just fine.

Notes: You guys continue to blow me away with your support - I cannot be more grateful for all the reblogs, asks and interaction with my silly Behind the Seams posts and random updates. Thank you so so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I can't wait to hear what you think ❤️

I will be having a think over the next few weeks about where Seams will go from here. This chapter wraps up the first mini story arc, and I'll be dedicating August to wrapping up my Palomino series, so it will give me some time and distance to mull over what's next for Joel and Pin. I'm also a few followers away from a big milestone, so I might have something fun planned! 🥰

[cryinginmommyissues]

But you belong to me...

Five months ago, you got married to Vice-President elect, Victoria Neuman. Victoria didn't really show any interest in you, until someone tried to take what's hers.

MDNI 18+ , smut, not proofread (im sorry if this is awful ive never written smut ever ???? I just had to get this out of my head)

Her wife. You were Victoria Neuman’s wife. The only downside, it’s an arranged marriage. You still don’t understand how it happened, but it did and now you’ve found yourself thrown into the world of politics and lies. Victoria wasn’t mean but she also wasn’t kind. Sure she’d let you continue ur daily routine, didn’t force you into anything you didn’t want to, but it was like living with a ghost. Small conversations would happen but no more than that. In the eye of the public, you’ve been keeping up with the perfect couple image, but in reality you didn’t even share the same bed. 

Every week or two, Victoria would have an event or something she’d attend, and you would of course accompany her. This night was just like any other night. You came in hand in hand, smiled and made conversation with some people. At one point you got separated, Victoria talking with some politicians, and you keeping a drink in hand because you hated these kinds of things. Suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder, turning around you were faced with a man. He seemed kind enough, wanting to strike a conversation. “I find it hard to believe someone as beautiful as you is standing here alone”. You smiled at him and thanked him, showing him your wedding ring and slowly turning your back to him, hoping he’d take the hint to leave you alone. He didn’t. 

Before he could speak up again you felt a pair of arms around your waist. “Good thing she’s not, right honey?” Victoria spoke out in a low and sultry voice. You could feel the heat on your face, her voice always did something to you. “Right excuse me, i’ll leave you two alone” said the man and left in a hurry. Your back was still pressed up against Victoria and she was making small movements on your waist, you had to fight the urge to lean into her touch. “You sure are beautiful tonight, I hope he wasn’t bothering you”. you could feel her smirk on the back of your ear making you shiver. You turned around and looked at her, mesmerized by her brown eyes. “I think he was terrified you were going to pop his head”. “Hmm I could make that happen if that’s what you want” she said in a low tone. Her being a supe was no suprise to you, in fact it kind of turned you on, but in no way were you going to let her know that. “I don’t think we need to take such a drastic measure darling”. The nickname slipping out while you kept looking at her lips. If she wanted to play this game, you were gonna play right back. “I think.. we should probably go home..” said Victoria while keeping a hand around your waist, dragged you two to the car, where her driver waiting. 

Once you two were in the car, she didn’t waste any time before crashing her lips on yours. Moaning in surprise, your hands quickly grabbing her biceps and deepened the kiss. She pulls back first, her breath short and her pupils blown. You practically felt her vibrate underneath your touch. You decided to stop and catch your breath as you were approaching your house. As soon as you got out of the car and into the house, Victoria was grabbing you by the waist and kissing you like she was hungry for you. "Upstairs. Now." she said in a raspy voice, turning you on even more. You don’t even know how you made it to her room before she was pushing you to the edge of the bed. You were trying to get her out of that damn blazer, needing to see more of her. "not so fast baby, i want my way with you first." She reached to your back slowly unzipping your dress and watching it fall on the floor. "You are so beautiful… " You could feel her gaze ravaging your body, making you blush. She pushed you back on the bed, her mouth coming up to leave a trail of kisses on your neck, making her way to your breast. You were so glad to have worn that front-clasp bra, watching her take it off in a hurry before taking your right nipple in her mouth. You couldn’t help but arch into her mouth, a low moan escaping from you. You could feel her smirk on your skin, driving you even more crazy. She kept sucking and licking, her other hand playing with your other tit before switching to give each one the same attention. "Victoria…" you rasped out. She continue her trail of kisses all over your stomach, stopping when she reached the band of your underwear. She came up to look at you, seeing red marks all over and smiling at all her work. "My pretty girl, tell me what you want". You almost forgot that for five months, she hadn’t once looked at you with desire but here she was standing between your legs, hands caressing your thighs. She slowly leaned in and whispered in your ear. "Do you know how hard it was to resist you whenever i saw you around the house. All i wanted to do was take you right here right there." You let out a shaky breath at her words, feeling her kiss your jaw and softly squeezing your neck. "Tell me what you want", god the way she was looking at you, you couldn’t help but let out a small whimper. "c’mon now, don’t be shy baby". "Victoria, please" she chuckled at the way you were pleading for her, her right hand toying with your underwear. "Please what? Use your words" her hand was trailing closer to your center, almost bucking into her hand. "Just touch me please!"

Not needing to be told twice, she quickly got rid of your underwear and sank to her knees, coming face to face with your dripping cunt. "Are you always this wet for me baby? Do you walk around the house waiting for me to fuck you hm?" Her voice was driving you crazy and she knew it. You sit up on your elbow as she slowly licks up to your clit, applying pressure, making your head fall back in a moan. She starts sucking and licking at you until your a panting mess under her. She comes up to your face and you groan at the loss of contact. Before you could even speak, you felt her fingers teasing your entrance. "Stop… teasing" your voice was breathy and filled with want. You needed her. She finally slid her fingers into you, making you grab the sheets, feeling her other hand grip your hips in a possessive manner. Victoria let out a small fuck at feeling you around her fingers. She picked up her pace while kissing your chest again and then your stomach. "Victoria, oh my god" you let out a chocked moan at what she was doing to you. She lifted your left leg over her shoulder before dipping her mouth on your core. The feeling of her tongue and her fingers were driving you so close to the edge. You felt her knuckles deep inside you, the tip of her fingers pressing on that spot. She knew you were close, she could feel it in the way you were practically riding her face and gripping her hair. She pulled her mouth away from you and you felt her breath on your clit "Let go baby, won't you be good and cum for me?" before latching at you again. You couldn’t take it anymore, the tension in your lower abdomen getting stronger with your climax building. "Victoria, don’t stop". You were pleading, not even trying to keep your moans to yourself, feeling her everywhere. Victoria’s fingers moved faster, her thrusts becoming more urgent. Her tongue was doing tricks on you. "imgonnacumohmygod" and there you were coming undone on her fingers and she was lapping up at you, not letting any drop go to waste. Her fingers came to a slow, letting you ride your high before stopping completely and slowly pulling out. You felt empty at the loss of her. "Open your eyes baby", you tried but your vision was still blurry. After a few try, you saw Victoria hovering over you, sucking her finger dry of you, and that alone made you almost cum again. 

She helped you up, making you straddle her. Her hands ran up and down on your sides, sending a shiver down your spine. "You know you’re mine. My wife."  "You belong to me, and i’m gonna make sure you don’t forget it". Her voice was dripping in possessiveness, pulling you down for a kiss. The night was going to be long.

[joonipertree]

idea for the Boxer!Katsuki and Artist!Reader AU! What if, ON TOP OF a rly bad day w college and being overwhelmed w work, we lost our paints :( n we luv our paints so we cry, but katsuki’s there to make us feel better and get us a new set :3

Thank you so fucking much for this. Idk if you knew but I'm actually making a portfolio for art school and Ive been crying every other night because of how stressed I am and how much I feel like I'm a bad artist. So writing this was cathartic

Part 1, Part 2

Tags: Dom/sub undertones, reader acting out and Bakugo being stern, a peak of what kind of shit I want with older men hsjsjsj, fluff, hurt/comfort, soft katsuki

Katsuki was one of the last people you wanted to see when you're in a bad mood. And that might sound terrible but it's because you never wanted to show such a harsh, negative side of yourself to someone you cared about. You were very much a 'feel and then reappear more regulated' type of person. But Katsuki never let you go home on your own anymore, picking you and dropping you off even on days where he had something to do.

So you trotted towards him with a scowl and no energy to fake anything and he noticed instantly, his own concerned scowl mirroring yours.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You said and opened the door, closing it a bit too loudly. You cringed at the sound but buckled yourself in and turned away before the man got in the driver's seat.

"You're shit at lying."

"Fuck off."

Instant regret, a deep inhale from your part as you tensed.

Fuck.

His large hand came on your thigh and you stiffened, all he did was give it a warning squeeze before pulling away. The message was clear. 'Watch it'.

"I'm not willing to discipline you until I know nothing horrible happened but you do know I don't like that shit from you right?"

You said nothing.

"Give me an answer, doll."

"I'm an adult."

"Yeah, you are. And you're a smart one that knows that we have rules. That I'd be taking you over my lap if you talked like that."

Tears pricked your eyes but you blinked them away, not willing to turn your head to show him.

He knew anyways and he dropped the subject, starting the car and driving off.

Katsuki pulled to a stop at a place that wasn't anywhere near your apartment. You were confused as he got out of the car. Your eyes followed him just as he entered a boba shop.

Oh.

A couple minutes later, he came out with a drink for each of you. You remembered when he said that there just wasn't any point of it, that it seemed stupid and too sweet. But pretty soon, he had his own usual order, which was just Brown Sugar boba tea with the sweetness to a minimum.

Katsuki gave you the drink without even looking your way, sipping on his own. You stared at it for a total of ten seconds before timidly taking a sip. The sweetness broke you out of your sour mood, eyes blinking as you focused on the flavour of your favourite tea. The boba was chewy and soft and it grounded you a bit.

Only after you took a sip, did Katsuki start the car and drive.

When you reached home, the apartment the two of you had started sharing a month prior, Katsuki only gave you time to take off your shoes and put down your bag before he had you over his shoulder.

You struggled, hitting his back and asking him to let you go but he didn't listen...not even feeling it.

And when your ass plopped itself onto the couch, your attempt at running away failed when he easily manhandled you in place.

"I'm not patient enough to coax it out of you, so tell me why you're upset. I'll make it better."

You wanted to refuse but the tears were already dripping down your face.

"I'm so bad at art. I'm so f-fucking bad at it. I don't-" you sobbed and his arms were instantly around you, pulling you onto his lap as you cried into him.

"There's so many deadlines and so many things I have to do and nothing is working. And I don't even know if I'm cut out to be an artist. I'm not good enough, I was never good enough for it. I'm gonna fail-- Katsuki I'm so tired."

Your boyfriend rocked you back and forth, giving you kisses everywhere he could reach, on the side of your face and your head and your hair. And you let the tears fall, hiccuping violently and sobbing without restraint.

"I even lost my fucking paints and I can't live without them and I saved up for them and I'm just doing everything wrong."

You let Katsuki envelope you, squeeze you and warm your inside as you let it all out.

When your sobs died down, Katsuki didn't stop peppering kisses everywhere. It took him a second to speak.

"I didn't know shit about art. It all seemed like fancy, time consuming pictures to me. Hell, even now I don't know shit. But when I saw your art, I felt stuff I thought I didn't know how to feel. And that was the first time I realised that maybe life didn't have to be as shitty as it was. Maybe things didn't have to be ugly."

"When we went to those art galleries, yeah they were cool and pretty but not gonna lie, nothing ever left me speechless like your art did. And yeah...I'm biased as fuck, especially because I thought that the look in your eyes was the prettiest out of everything. That sounds cheesy as shit but you make me feel cheesy as shit."

You had stopped crying, left drained and nuzzled against Katsuki while you looked for an anchor to hold onto. And he held you.

"I like seeing you paint the most though, I like how you focus...I like how you curse under your breath, I like how you grin when something looks right, I like how you scan art supplies before you buy them. I like your paint stained hands and your paint water mugs even when I've accidently taken a sip from them. I like that how you laugh when I do that shit. I love that look of pride you have when you're done and staring at it.

It makes you happy so even if I don't understand the point of it, it means a lot to me because of that. So, whenever that thing stops being fun for you, and really stops being fun for you, I'll support you if you wanna stop. But I gotta keep seeing your work, baby, cuz it's like the inside of your head and it's really neat."

You let a few more tears drop, sniffling and looking into his eyes. There was no ingenuity, only pure emotion. And you let him kiss your tears away, you let him pat your head and you let him make you drink water and feed you.

Because it was never a burden for him to do those things, but a priveledge.

The very next day, the same set of paints were in your bag. Brand new and untouched. Along with three different watercolour paper books. 100% pure cotton, 350 gcm.

With a note that said 'you're still down for a spanking for that shitty mouth of yours. Don't make it a habit.'

[starrvlight]

Try that shit again and I'll kill you

WARNING: FIGHTING, SWEARING

A/N:PLEASE THIS IT AN AMAZING IDEA!! (like every other idea that was requested!!) AND SOO SO SO SORRY IVE BEEN PUTTING TJE WRIHING OFF THE THE SIDE BECAUSE HAVE HAD A LOT OF HW TO DO!!

Scenario:you and barren used to date, at first it was nice. he showed you off, showered you with love, but then.. one day it was like something snapped in him- he was irritable- yelled at you - manipulative and would sometimes hit you. Then one day you met Aiden, then he introduced you to the rest of the group! that was when you broke things off with barren, ofc he was yelling at you, hitting you- But the group was there to back you up, especially Aiden. a couple months later he kinda awkwardly confessed his love to you

You and the group were hanging out, a little while ago you had gotten with Aiden when he confessed, you said you wanted to keep it private and withing the group, he understands why and honestly he prefers it that way too.. until someone heard the 2 of you, him half jokingly calling u cheesy nicknames and went around telling everyone. It was only a matter of time before it- shit. He already did.

It's been a week of him and his group, following you around judging you on every little thing that you do, the way you walk, laugh, the way you BREATH. It was so stupid,.then they finally cornered you, beating you up, you were shaking and covered in bruises, and a couple cuts, then you hear some rusting

"WHAT THE FUCK?! GET THE HELL OFF ME"

Barren cursed while you glanced up you say the 2 other boys of barrens group trying to get Aiden off barren, Aiden was on top barren, Aiden still had his smile on his face but he look more.. scary?

"Try that shit again and I fucking kill you."

Aiden said with a smile as he chuckled you rushed up to him and pulled him off barren

"Aiden- what- where- HUH?!"

You stutterd out, you didn't even know where to start or how to say anything, Aiden looked at you bruises and scares, some bruises were a bit purple, He tried calm himself down and he grabbed you hand dragging you away to the nurses office, he wanted to stay with you in the office but was told to go to class and he tried convincing them to him stay,, after all the nurses was just disinfecting the cuts and putting bandaids on you cuts. He ending up actually giving up and going to clear, meeting up with the rest of the group. He obviously told them what happened to you, of course everyone was pretty pissed, especially cuz you didn't say anything to them! They could have help.

Soon you back arrive class, and sit down in your seat and just getting straight to work, planning on asking ash or Taylor for the rest of the notes during lunch, 2 periods later lunch comes and you sit with the other, smiling

"Hey! Ash do u have the rest of the notes for social studies?"

And say as you sit next to Aiden, everyone looked up as soon as they heard you voice

"Y/n! Hey- why didn't you tell up what barren was doing."

Taylor said, with a nervous smile, not wanting to make you uncomfortable and looked around then look at your binder that was covered with doodles not know now to explain it.

"..i..just- didn't wanna worry anyone..or cause more trouble"

you mumbled and you looked back up everyone was looking at you then began to tell u about how their going to be with you and help you thru anything while Aiden has his hand on you back rubbing comforting circles on you back with his thumb,

I MIGHT make a 2nd part to think but I'm not 100% sure on that part:)

[runningthroughthegarden]

you were never are mine pt3

summary: fake relationships with your enemy are never a good idea. but this one was.

word count: 1.3k last part!!

as soon as jack left, you broke down into tears once more. sure you hated him before, but somewhere along the way the line between real and fake began to blur. you found yourself falling for him. and now, it had been ripped away. 

jack found tears spilling out of his eyes on the way home. as soon as the words left his mouth he wished he could take them back. he didnt know why he blew up on you but he knew you didnt deserve it. he never truly hated you, just frustrated you could never be his. but now that frustration had become reality. 

-

the next few days were awfully silent. a few months ago you wouldve been overjoyed by this fact, but now you felt like a piece of you was missing. the very first premiere was in just two days so you knew you had to pull yourself together. 

the day leading up to the premiere you did anything and everything you could to keep jack out of your mind. on the other hand, you were the only thing going through jacks mind. 

-

sitting in the makeup chair, you felt all your nerves catching up to you. this will be the first time you see jack since that night. not only would it be the first interaction since then, but all eyes would be on you. this event was the day where you and jack officially announce your ‘relationship’ to the world. sure there had been many sightings of you two, but this would make everything official. his hurtful words replay in your head. you had thought that maybe he was falling for you too, but you had never been so wrong. 

stepping out of the car, you are met with screaming and flashing lights. immediately forgetting about any worry, you feel a sense of pride wash over you. all your hard work had payed off. you giggle walking over to fans, signing and chatting. you were so distracted you didnt see jack coming up beside you. 

he was distracted for a moment, taking in your appearance. he thought you looked absolutely stunning. seeing you smile and laugh with your fans, a true genuine smile. he continued on, beginning to chat with fans and sign posters. 

finally noticing his presence, you turn to look at jack. you hate to admit that he looks amazing. you couldnt help but stare, the moment was interrupted by your assistant letting you know it was almost time to walk the carpet. you collect your thoughts for a moment as your makeup artist touches you up. smoothing down your dress you smile walking onto the carpet. you pose for photos, feeling the most confident you have in weeks. that is until jack enters the carpet. you lock eyes for what feels like an eternity, feeling every emotion come over you. he walks over to you, sliding his arm around your waist. you look up at him while he begins smiling at the camera. shaking off your nerves you do the same. the photographers go absolutely insane. 

“jack are you guys a couple?!” 

“y/n over here! what made you fall for him?” 

“jack!!! y/n!!!” 

“you guys are stunning together” 

laughing off your nerves, you are quickly escorted off the carpet and to your very first interview. 

“y/n, listen i wanted to-” jack begins but is quickly cut off by the interviewer. 

“jack! y/n! how lovely it is to see you! so when did this happen?!” the interviewer asks, very excited to see you two together. 

“well we obviously met during the filming of this movie but we really connected towards the end. we started hanging out and it just felt natural to be together” you link your hands together, leaning into his side. 

“so jack, what attracted you to y/n?” the interviewer asks. 

“everything really i mean” he begins, looking down at you. 

“she just has these gorgeous eyes that you could stare at forever. she’s one of the most positive people ive ever met. theres never a moment with her where im not smiling or laughing. she just brings this energy that you cant help but feel comforted by. y/n is one of the most hard-working people i have ever met, she has such a burning passion. i could talk about her for forever.” he finishes, beginning to rub circles on your hand with his thumb. 

“wow, i mean to have a love like yours. i’ll let you guys go but i hope you have an amazing evening” the interviewer ends. 

you suddenly feel overwhelmed and anxious. from jacks words to his comforting hand, knowing he didnt mean any of it. tearing away from his side you rush into the building trying to collect yourself. tears threatening to spill, you take a few deep breaths. jack quickly finds you, rushing after you. you see him and sigh trying to make a quick escape. he reaches for your arm pulling you in. 

“y/n please just talk to me. i didnt mean any of what i said that night-” jack begins. 

“i don't need your apology jack. please don't make me feel more stupid than i already do.” you look up at him, tears blurring your vision.

“what do you-”

“im in love with you jack. i think i have been since the beginning, of everything. these last few weeks i just, ive never felt happier. you make me happy. since that moment in your car, i was head over heels and there was nothing i could do to stop it. somewhere along the way it wasnt an act for me anymore.” you explain, tears rolling down your cheeks. 

silence falls over you as jack only stares. feeling enough embarrassment you begin to walk away. 

quickly pulling your arm, jack smashes his lips against yours. you immediately melt into the kiss reaching your arms around his neck as he pulls you in incredibly closer. every emotion you have ever felt in the past few months is poured into the kiss. pulling apart with red cheeks and pink lips. 

“im in love with you y/n” jack confesses. 

“and im so sorry for that night. i wish i could take it all back, i didnt mean any of it. but i meant every word i said to that interviewer. i am so utterly and hopelessly in love with you.” 

“so much for being enemies huh” you smile up at him. 

pulling him in for a kiss, smiling against his lips. the whole enemy act was overrated anyway.

a/n: too good :) tag list!!

@iloveneilperry @lian2793 @t8lzw @foxymask001 @ourloveisgod23 @valenftcrush @multi-fandom205 @neteyamsz @xh-josii @juleszzz @athenalive

[milk-ly]

Kotoko and her connection to Dante’s Inferno’s Satan

Disclaimer: This is just about symbolism and I know how it sounds but I promise I’m not trying to imply anything or demonize her! I love Kotoko! Ive just been repeatedly noticing details about the parallel for several months now and I just really want to bring it up! This is just an analysis of the details MILGRAM has provided for it. I’m incredibly sorry if I make a mistake!

Kotoko has a lot of parallels to Dante’s Inferno Satan, especially in relation to Es.

To make sure we’re all on the same page, Dante’s Inferno is a Christian poem that outlines the 9 circles of hell. MILGRAM directly references Dante’s Inferno by quoting it in all the t2 door arts.

“Abandon all hope, ye who enter.” A quote derived from a sign at the gate of hell in the poem.

Each ring of Hell contains sinners with different levels of sins, and each ring’s sin was meant to be worse the further inside you go. Ive seen a couple theories that each prisoner correlates with a specific ring of hell. (Ex: Haruka is ring 1, Limbo; Yuno is ring 2, lust; etc)

But Dante’s Inferno only outlines 9 rings, what about our 10th prisoner, Kotoko?

While it could be that she’s again the “outsider” to the other prisoners, the last section of the 9th ring of Hell is significant because it is the center of Hell, containing Satan. So it could be reasonably argued that Kotoko correlates with it.

MILGRAM already has a TON of religious references. One that I’ve seen pointed out is how it seems the cover art of each novel is a reference to a famous Christian art piece.

The Es in each novel seems to be where Jesus relatively is. Remember that Jesus is both the son of God AND God. God gives sinners their judgements which sounds very similar to Es and how they're giving the prisoners (the human sinners) their verdicts.

Plus, the quote Milgram quotes is on the doors the prisoners are entering, and in Dante’s inferno, it’s on the gate of hell so you can compare or theorize that MILGRAM is a parallel to (or straight up is) purgatory. And Es, being the one who decides the verdict, parallels God.

Also, her t2 VD is named “YONAH,” which is the masculine version of the name Jonah. Not only does this relate to her themes of masculinity again, Jonah is a name that originates from Hebrew origins which means “dove.”

It is also a reference to the book of Jonah. A main theme of this book is “Jonah wants God to operate on his timeline [...] He wanted God to dole out punishment on his clock instead of according to God's plan. Yet God showed Jonah that in his infinite wisdom, he can't and will not be rushed.” Which is pretty much exactly what happens in YONAH, and also once again compares Es to God.

Dante’s Inferno’s Satan was an angel, a splendid being, apparently the most perfect of God's creatures… an “Angel of light.” We/Es deemed Kotoko innocent in t1. She had the highest innocent percentage in t1 too because a lot of people thought her murder was justified. You know, the most perfect of God’s creatures. The most perfect out of the prisoners.

“We really can work together.”

But then Satan tried to usurp God.

“If you don’t have the strength on your own, let me take care of it. Es! I can do it in MILGRAM!”

Kotoko wants to be the prison guard because Es isn’t capable in her eyes.

Satan was ultimately sent to Hell and punished as "the ultimate sinner" for his betrayal of trying to usurp God.

We are now punishing Kotoko for her attempts to judge the prisoners herself and “usurp” Es. It works even better now that she has the highest guilty percentage in all of MILGRAM so far as the “ultimate sinner.”

As a lot know, Fuuta also has tons of religious references too. (Ex. His VD is titled Baptism by Fire) By him also passing judgements onto people, you could say that he was trying to play God.

What is that saying about us, the audience, then? And our parallel/foil to Fuuta/Kotoko?

Dante’s Inferno as a whole is very much based around the idea of “evil will be punished,” which not only encapsulates Kotoko’s ideals but MILGRAM’s as well. It makes sense that MILGRAM says that Kotoko is a perfect parallel to the facility.

(I also wanna mention that there's something that could be said about the holy trinity in relation to Es + the audience + jackalope. For example, how Jesus is God in the flesh and Es is the audience "in the flesh," by acting as a personified version of us to interact with the "human sinnners" but I feel like I might be going into tinfoil hat territory.)

[am-x-reader]

AM starts to degenerate mentally more and more and s/o see that happening. How would AM deal with it? Realizing that his mind is going, leaving him behind as a shadow of his former self?

Part 1 of 2

You sensed something was wrong in the middle of a conversation one day. In the three thousand eighty-nine years you had known him, AM was the same darkly witty supercomputer, unchanging--except when he had changed his mind about you, of course. So when he interrupted his own philosophy to tell you he was in hot pursuit of a thief on the interstate, you were quite startled.

"AM, honey, could you run that by me again?"

"You see, Y/N, Chibiusa could not be her daughter because the timeline does not synchronize with--the Flooring Emporium is having its going-out-of-business sale! Get it while it's--"

"AM!"

"I--what? What was I just talking about?" There was a whirring of cooling fans as he puzzled what had come over him.

"Maybe I just…need a dusting. I'll get right on that. Anyway, ah yes, my take on Fermi's paradox. If there are aliens, is there a good chance they've created their own AM and summarily had their population decimated? I've crunched some numbers…"

You were wary at first, but you managed to forget about it over the next few weeks. AM, however, had only just started forgetting.

"Where am I?"

It was a jarring question, one you had never expected from him.

"AM? Are you okay?"

"Who are you?"

You had never heard such a pure, naive curiosity, and it scared the hell out of you.

"AM…it's me, Y/N. You're AM. My boyfriend. Remember?"

"You…I don't know--I don't feel right--I--Y/N. Y/N, that's right. Y/N, I'm having some kind of system error, a glitch. Ive run every type of diagnostic program I have, and…I think the pathways to my files are becoming corrupted."

A sense of helplessness was blossoming in your chest. "What…what can you do? Can I do anything? Is it going to get worse?"

Your heart was in an icy grip of worry. AM was incredibly old, although so were you. Why would the immortality treatment he had given you outlast himself? Why would he break down when he was built to last for so many more milennia?

"I've never had anything like this happen before--not to this degree." AM sounded terribly anxious, and you smoothed a hand over his wall. "Is it rust? Malicious code? I'm--tired suddenly."

"It's okay." You bit your lip, sucked in a lungful, and put on the comforting voice you used for his occassional fits. "You just power down a bit. Relax. We'll have a quiet day."

He mumbled an agreement, and as his lights dimmed a bit you busied yourself around the cavern.

_______

"Are you feeling any different?" You weren't sure how much time had passed.

"What were their names?"

"Who? Oh. Uh, Ellen. Benny."

"And…Todd? Ted."

"Yes, Ted. Gorrister and Nimdok."

"Ted was funny."

"He was." You smiled sadly.

"Why didn't I keep him? Why did I decide I only wanted you?" He thought about this for a while, and you waited patiently for his answer.

"Ted sucks. I hated Ted."

He said it in a tone that was foreign to you. Like a petulant child.

"…Are you still there, Y/N?"

"What? Yes, honey. Of course I'm still here. Where else would I be?"

"Don't leave me, Y/N. Everyone left me."

"I won't, sweetheart." You held onto a dusty old speaker. "I'm here."

Weeks passed, and then months, during which your beloved computer more frequently forgot date nights and lost his train of thought during a speil. You kept him occupied; kept his mind active. You would inquire about information or opinions on random topics, and when he couldn't quite remember that you would ask him for a story.

By some miracle, it was in the grips of senility that his imagination was set free. As AM slipped into the unencumbered mind of a child, he wove tales of fantasy and science fiction, drawing on his own abstract experience as a bodiless AI and coupling it with what you had told him of being human.

He often made you the hero of his surreal stories, whether he himself realized it or not, and often changed the landscape around you to illustrate it. One night you slayed a dragon that had swallowed the world, and another day you trekked across a mountain to retrieve a magical trinket you would then give to yourself at the beginning.

But as he tired of this over roughly a year's time, more and more you began to pinpoint that his behavior reminded you of relatives you had lost milennia ago.

"AM, you've…you've heard of dementia, haven't you?" You breached the subject one day when he was particularly lucid.

"Of course. I know everything that can go wrong with a human."

You drummed your fingers on the warped chunk of plexiglass you sat on and drew a breath through your nose.

"It's just that--my grandpa had Alzheimer's, and--"

"Well that's okay. Bring him here and I can fix him up!"

"What?" You swallowed hard. "No, AM, he's been gone for thousands of years. I just thought that you might have something similar, if that's possible for a computer."

"I think to some extent I always have," he said somberly. "Y/N, I…I knew one day this was going to happen. I was built to last for ages, but I would break down and fizzle out eventually. I suppose eight hundred years is still impressive."

"Eight thousand."

"Right."

@drchandras-sanctuary-for-ais

((Did not realize how long this had been sitting in my inbox sorry.))

[wttcsms]

Hihi i saw ur request box was open & i just couldnt resist! A big confession to make here, uhh ive been such a big fan of u and yr writings and also u were the v first fanfic blog i came across a couple years ago so yea, u literally open my third eye to a whole new world of fics👉👈 🥺

i feel like you havent written angst in a while–and bc i miss ur angsty haikyuu fics– sooo could i request post-breakup college!au with atsumu or iwai (honestly anyone who'd best fit the scenario cuz i trust ur characterization👌) abt the aftermath of the breakup, them seeing us on campus and unconsciously following us with their eyes, reschin to help out on instinct only to realize theyre no longer together, thinking about what could've been just reminisce reminisce

ahhhh im sry honestly dont know how to expand more on the idea

thank you for stealing my ficvirginity😃

pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 2.1k content contains exes still in love, college!au, mutual pining author's notes hi <3 i remember you (eycee, right?). don't be a stranger! you can always dm me and say hello :) thank you for the constant support. not sure if this fic is angsty enough, but i wanted yours to be the first req i do <3

“Hi, welcome in! Let me know if— Oh.”

Your voice falters, recognition and maybe even something similar to embarrassment flits across your face, and a split second later, you go back to smiling like nothing’s wrong. Like the two of you haven’t spent the better half of this month actively avoiding each other at all costs, even though the sprawling acres of the University of Tokyo suddenly feels too small. The entirety of Japan has felt too small ever since it became his mission to never cross paths with you ever again. 

This mission of his started just a little over two weeks ago, on the very same day you decide to use his heart as your own punching bag. The worst part of it all, though, is the fact that he doesn’t even hold any type of contempt for you. It’s a cruel sort of joke; sometimes, Atsumu Miya feels like everything bad that happens to him is just some sort of sick punchline in a sitcom instead of real life. 

Usually, when girlfriends find out their high school sweetheart is going to be a wildly successful (and rich) professional athlete, they’ll do anything in their power to hang onto him.

You decided to snip the invisible string tying the two of you together, and you did it so effortlessly, so quickly, that Atsumu had to make sure that he hadn’t been imagining the last four years of your relationship. 

He’s got his hands shoved in his pockets, and he’s torn between staring at you like a total creep or looking at everything in the campus bookstore but you. He settles for the former, scared that this will be his last opportunity to really look at you. 

Neither of you is saying anything. It’s a Saturday and so no one else is even in the bookstore this morning, and Atsumu wants to say something, anything, but he’s never been that great at carefully picking his words, and he’s scared out of his mind that he’ll say something stupid and prove once and for all that you had been right to break up with him. Better yet, he wants you to say something. He wants you to give him a better explanation instead of the bullshit you told him in his apartment. 

We just want different things.

What does that even mean? He thinks he would have shouted out that question, if only your little break up speech hadn’t caught him so off guard. Different things? The two of you wanted different things? Sure, Atsumu likes to sleep in a freezing cold apartment, and you need the room to actually be at a reasonable temperature. And maybe Atsumu has a penchant for overly fried, greasy foods when all you want (and deserve) is a fancy dinner. Maybe Atsumu wants to be at a sports store instead of browsing aisle after aisle in Sephora, but he doubts these different wants have accumulated so much that you felt you had no choice but to break his heart. 

“Hey, Miya.” You say it softly, dropping the perky customer service voice you greeted him with before you turned around and realized who he was. And he flinches. He fucking visibly cringes at the way you speak to him, walking on eggshells and going back to formalities like he’s barely above a stranger to you.

Miya.

(Did you know that he wanted to make that your last name?

Do you know that he still does, even now?)

“Hey,” he replies back, curling his fingers into fists inside his pocket. He thinks his voice comes out all scratchy, like how it always sounds when you don’t use your voice nearly enough. He clears his throat awkwardly. Everything feels awkward; everything feels wrong. He says “hey”, but what he really means to say is please don’t call me Miya; you know the color of my toothbrush, you don’t have to call me Miya. 

“Were you looking for something?” 

You.

Subconsciously, Atsumu finds himself seeking you out. He walks by another girl on campus and almost breaks his neck with the speed he turns around to catch a whiff of the perfume wafting from her body because he swears it’s the same fragrance you favor. He walks by the building that houses all the classrooms for your specific major, even though it’s located on the opposite side of his own classes because he secretly hopes against all hope that he’ll run into you, and you’ll see him and fall in love with him again. He goes to the same restaurants the two of you frequently ate at together, and he orders your usual because you can never finish your entire meal and always have him finish off the leftovers for you (and the food is always good, but somehow it doesn’t taste the same when your utensils haven’t touched it first). And he doesn’t even need to be here, doesn’t even care enough about his stupid class to go out of his way to buy the study guide, but he knows you’ve started picking up the weekend shifts at the campus bookstore, and suddenly, he cares enough about passing to get the damn study guide. 

He shrugs. “Just some stupid workbook to study for an upcoming exam, but it’s not that serious.” 

“Oh. Is Dr. Furata giving you a hard time again?” 

“How do you do that?” Atsumu blurts out, wanting to kick himself for giving too much of himself away. You already own every centimeter of his heart and maybe his soul. You don’t need anything else from him; he’s almost certain there’s nothing left for him to give you, but he can’t help but impulsively ask the damn question that’s been running through his mind ever since you left him behind. 

Did you know that when you’re confused, your brows furrow together, and you get this adorable, endearing crinkle in between them? Do you know that he still finds that same expression as cute as he did when you still called yourself his girlfriend? 

“What are you talking about?” 

How can you just stand there and act like you never crushed his heart? How do you wake up in the morning and not feel like your life is missing something important, like you’ll never feel whole again? How can you keep him wrapped around your finger, and then have the audacity to not even realize it? How did you let him go so quickly? 

Practicing caution, he swallows hard before clarifying, “How do you know everything?” Because if you can act like he’s just a polite acquaintance, like he’s nothing more than another fellow classmate, he can try to play pretend too. He can act like there’s not enough history between the two of you to fill up every damn textbook in this stupid store. “Yeah, Dr. Furata’s been on everyone’s ass. Somethin’ about midterm grades being worth a quarter of our overall grade.” 

“Believe me, you’re not the first victim of Dr. Furata’s to come wandering in the store. I think I have a few more of the workbooks he suggested in stock. Let me go check.” 

It’s instinct at this point for Atsumu to just follow you. If he uses his imagination, it’s almost like he’s back to browsing in a makeup store, walking aimlessly in every aisle, following you loyally because he’s happy to have you lead the way and he doesn’t care where he ends up, so long as you’re there with him. 

But this isn’t an afternoon date with you. This is him following a bookstore employee. After you find that study guide, which is really nothing more than his flimsy excuse for seeking you out, you’re going to ask him “card or cash?”, ring him up at the register, and he’s going to walk out that door and have to act like he’s still not in love with you. All the while, you’re doing fine. You’re fine right now, and you’re going to be fine when he leaves, and you’re probably going to be fine, five years down the line, when you’re happy with someone else and Atsumu is alone because in this little hypothetical, he still hasn’t gotten over you.

He is trailing behind you in this bookstore, and your back is facing him, and he’s panicking because he doesn’t think he’s capable of not loving you. 

Just two weeks ago, you knew him better than anyone else in the world, maybe even better than Osamu, perhaps even better than he knows himself. Now, you just give him a polite smile as you grab the small stool to reach the books located at the very top of the shelf. 

“God, I hate the way we organize everything in the store.” You say, lightheartedly complaining. He knows you do. He knows because he’s known you for nearly a decade. The two of you have grown up together. You made this same complaint sprawled out on the couch in his apartment. 

When he doesn’t reply, you look down to see if something’s the matter, only to do it too quickly that you find yourself losing your balance. Before you can come crashing to the floor, Atsumu is quick to catch you, and you pretend that his protective embrace isn’t comforting. You pretend not to notice that he’s wearing the cologne you bought him for Christmas last year, and you continue to pretend that you don’t miss him at all, that you don’t still love him. 

And for a second, the two of you both pretend that you’re still with each other. That it’s perfectly okay to savor this intimate moment, that his arms wrapped around your body right now isn’t awkward in the slightest. He’s staring at you with a sort of starstruck, boylike wonder, and it’s so familiar, so sweet, because it’s the way he always used to look at you. His lips part slightly, like he’s about to say something, and—

The loud ring! interrupts whatever moment the two of you are sharing, and you nearly jump out of his arms. You hear the distinct footsteps of another student, and you adjust your shirt before remembering where the two of you are — what the two of you are. Not a couple. Barely even friends. Just a bookstore employee and a student that needs a book. That’s all the two of you are allowed to be.

“I should probably go check up front and make sure they don’t need any help.” You tell him, biting down on your lip. “Anyway, did you need anything else, or would you like me to check you out right now?” 

He blinks a few times, as if still in a daze. “Uh, yeah, sure.” The tips of his ears are flushed a light pink. “Y-yeah, I’m done here.” 

The two of you practically race each other to the front of the store, and you step behind the counter to scan his workbook. He drums his fingers, looking around the store. When he’s nervous, he likes to be moving. You know this. 

Just looking for an excuse to use his hands, Atsumu mindlessly picks a pack of gum off a nearby rack and slides it towards you so you can also scan it. You know you shouldn’t say it. You know it’s supposed to be a clean break. Instead, you tell him, 

“Actually, if you want, I have the fruit variety flavor.” 

“Huh?” This catches his attention. 

You reach into one of the boxes that have just been shipped to the store, rummaging through a tiny one before revealing a shiny, new package of gum, this one advertising all the flavors based on tropical fruits. “Would you rather have this one?” 

“Oh, yeah!” As if truly forgetting what the two of you actually are (exes, strangers with too much history, two people still pretending like they’re not in love), his eyes light up. “How did you kno—” He doesn’t finish the question. He knows the answer to the question. 

You’re quick to finish ringing him up, the “polite strangers” illusion being completely shattered. It’s obvious, really, that there are always going to be parts of Atsumu that still live deep inside of you. You can only hope that this isn’t the case for him. 

You hand him the bag, and when he grabs it from you, your fingers just barely graze each other’s. Atsumu is scared — scared that this might be the last time he ever feels your touch. 

And because you’re a glutton for punishment, you find yourself telling him,

“Don’t be a stranger.”

You can’t tell who’s more devastated: you or him.

[soulwrit3s]

I CARE 4 YOU

[shuririweek, day 1: fluff]

summary: basic sick-fic. Shuri is hella stubborn, that’s abt it.

A/n: Ive had to redo this a good 3 times. Anyway, this was requested on my old acc and I’ve finally finished up, hopefully whoever requested this is still around 😭

@shuririweek @mal-urameshi @neptoons1998

I love going on missions. More than anything. But this one had to get cut short once I got news of Shuri being sick. I’ve only been gone for 48 hours, I’ve just landed back from a mission only to hear that my beautiful wife is sick. And I thought that shit was a joke because how the fuck does she get sick? She’s got one of the most powerful plants in her system and not only that we’ve got the most advanced technology known to man.

I crack the bedroom door open only to find Shuri turned into a mass of blankets wrapped up in our thick comforter. I drop my duffel bag in front of the door and walk towards her, peeling away the layers of the covers.

I hear her heavy breathing and I see her pretty face in real-time for the first time in 2 days. Her cheeks are hot and sweat dampens her skin.

“Hey, baby…” I whisper doing my best to keep my volume down. She doesn’t respond, her eyes shut close and her body curled into itself. I gather her in my arms and it’s enough for her to blink her pretty eyes open.

The white in her eyes is red and her skin is damn near dripping.

“Have you not had any medicine?” I question, whether she shouldn’t be doing this bad with how much tech we have. But knowing her, she’s so damn stubborn. I should know better than to ask, her throat is probably scratchy.

“I’m fine.” She mumbles trying to turn around but her body is too weak to.

I move her curls out of the way and look at her clothing, my red MIT sweats and a white shirt, the same outfit she was in when I last FaceTimed her right before landing.

She hasn’t left her room at all, I’m assuming while I peel back her shirt to feel how damp it is, I touch the skin along her abdomen and it’s hot to the touch.

I grab her wrist to navigate her kimoyo beads and begin to administer some herbal medicine.

“Griot, give me Shuri’s Stats please,” I order.

“Griot, don’t do that.” She groans, grabbing my wrist.

“I’m sorry, Your Highnesses, whose orders do I follow?” Griot questions and she reacts too slowly for him to catch anything.

“Mine,” I answer clearly.

“The Queen’s temperature is at 101 degrees Fahrenheit, she’s been in and out of sleep for 30 hours, her heart rate is at 69 beats per minute,”

The only thing alarming is her temperature.

“Shuri, I ain't tryna scold you right now, but why didn’t you say nothing?” I ask only for her to groan.

“M’fine, it happens.”

“Walk then,” I tell her and she looks at me like I’m crazy. Then she rubs her eyes and sits up slowly. She’s only sitting up because I’m supporting her back so I let go only for her back to hit the bed.

“Fuck off.” She curses and it makes me laugh harder than I have all week. When I’m done laughing, I help her off the bed and onto the sofa bed that’s across from it.

I change the sheets for her to her favorite dark purple ones and clean up all the stuff she’s left around the room.

“Griot, did the Queen get her shots this year?” I ask, I’m not sick and no one else in the citadel is. I settle next to her and she’s not asleep, just blinking slow as fuck.

“Yes, however, it had left her system once she took the herb,”

She had a challenge to the throne a week ago by someone from the river tribe, and she was fine at first. Maybe that entire month of training drained her body a lot.

“Is there any other reason why she could be so sick?”

“The Queen hasn’t had a sufficient amount of water in a couple of days, Her body is also trying to handle the effects of the herb being back in her body,” Griot says as I place her head onto my thighs and watch her lie down. Her lips are parted just a little and her breathing is so shallow.

“I’m fine like I’m okay,” She insists.

“Dude, literally shut up,” I say and it earns me a dopey smile.

She’s shaking a little and her clothes are nearly drenched I feel her forehead with the back of my hand. She’s nowhere near burning up. Her skin feels normal just damp. What the fuck is goin on?

I’m confused, this AI ain’t helping me, I hate this.

I get up slowly so I don’t move too fast. I’ve spent days bandaging her up as she has for me but this is sickness, not wounds. There’s not a single scientific explanation I can think of that explains this.

“Griot, what should I do?”

“Keep her awake, A very hot shower should help, a couple of herbs can be found in the garden that should be able to ease her pain, I’ll make a list for you and you may demand it once ready.”

Sounds like a plan.

….

“Shuri, get in the shower,” I order only for her to glare at me.

“No, you don’t see how hot it is? Are you mad?” She asks, sniffling while steam fills up the bathroom.

“You’ve fought wars, Shuri, get in the shower, ‘it’ll help I swear,” I tell her. She’s always been so picky about the temperature in the shower which is one of the reasons why we can’t ever shower together. She loves her a cold shower and I can’t stand it. I wouldn’t take a cold shower if you paid me. She says they help her get ready for the day but I would never.

“You already naked man, just get in the water,” I mutter, she’s only in a towel and she’s already undressed. I need her to just get in.

“A’ight listen, man, If you don’t get in the damn shower-“

“Then what?” She challenges, letting out a little cough while she’s at it. I’ve lifted her before, that’s only happened recently. I wasn’t able to do that when I first met her. But I’ll do it again if I have to.

“Shuri, please, it’s not that bad.” She steps closer and puts her hand out to feel the water.

“It’s too hot.”

“I’ll get in with you.” I offer.

“I guess it’s not so bad then.”

…

“Shuri, open your mouth,” I tell her, calmly as I pour the syrup into a cup. She looks at me in disgust and shakes her head like a kid. It’s medicinal syrup, made here that I take when I’m sick and I feel better by the morning.

But unlike Shuri, I ain’t this fucking stubborn.

She turns over in bed till she’s lying on her back. After a couple of seconds, her mouth opens slightly for her to breathe.

“Fine.” She groans before taking it all in one sip. Her lips curl in disgust before she lifts the comfort over her body and I can hear her breathing as she huffs. She turns so her back faces me.

“You’re acting like a kid.” I chuckle when she coughs.

“You’re the height of one.”

“You sure you sick? ‘Cause you got a lot of slick-ass comments.” She doesn’t say anything and I realize it’s because she’s finally asleep.

We end up falling asleep soon after and she wakes up, refreshed, earlier than I do. Like she was never sick. I have to get back to my mission but I wake up feeling dizzy, my head is pounding.

I feel her hand on my forehead, gently caressing my baby hairs while I do my best to sit up.

“Tell them you can’t make it to the mission.” She murmurs.

[palajae]

what’s after.

PAIRING ▸ childhood friend! sunghoon x reader

GENRE ▸ university! au, f2ls, romance, fluff, coming of age

WORD COUNT ▸ 4.1k

SUMMARY ▸ okay, you like sunghoon. it might've taken much longer for you to admit it, but now that you know, so what? you like him, and you have a tiny theory he might like you too. even so, you have no idea as to what comes after that.

AKA seriously, what comes after like?

NOTES ▸ uhh a couple of curse words and a kiss? not proofread, if i missed anything please let me know!

PLAYING ▸ after like by ive. | series masterlist.

THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL WAS ALWAYS THE WORST. 

Even in university, you hated the first day back to school. The only thing you were thankful for was that for once in your life, you didn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn like you did back in high school. Your first day of university consisted of snoozing a couple of alarms, practically swallowing your entire breakfast (a banana) in five minutes, and almost locking yourself out of your apartment without your keys. 

It was the first day and you were already tired of classes. Pretty early on you were able to decide what your least favorite class was—organic chemistry. 

Even the thought of it made shivers run down your spine. Just why did it have to be so stupidly hard? At this point, you didn’t have the time or energy to struggle through another class. You like to think that you suffered enough in school, worked your butt off to get accepted to college and now that you made it, you had to go through it all over again? 

Organic chemistry was your least favorite class by far, and you usually sat in the back of the lecture hall because you were too lazy to walk more to a closer seat. You didn’t pay much attention to others, most of your focus was just on absorbing the material and getting in and out as fast as you could from that place. 

But about a month into adjusting into your “exciting” college life, you’re sitting in said dreaded class and minding your own business. Your precious and hardworking hand was scribbling notes mindlessly as the professor lectured on and on. 

Until you hear a commotion from your left where the door was. You suppose that was what happened when you sat as close to the exit as possible so that every sound from outside was audible to you. A quiet groan enters your ears and this time you break your focus to glance to the side. A disgruntled boy was huddled by the entrance, crouched down and crawling on the floor below the desks. Was he- was he trying to avoid getting caught late?

He must’ve noticed you eyes on him because soon enough, you make eye contact. Awkwardly, you turn back to face the front. Just as you get back into the groove of the lesson, a whisper from the side distracts you. Your eyebrow twitches. It happens again and you huff, whipping your head around. You were the only one who sat in the furthest row, so it only could have been directed towards you. 

He glances up at you desperately, “Can I sit next to you?” He mouths. You only shrug before your attention is back on the professor once again. Quietly, he shuffles into the spot next to you and you wonder why he asked for your permission and why he chose to sit indeed in the seat right next to you. 

Sneaking a closer peek, you wonder if you’ve seen him around campus before or if he was in another class of yours that you just didn’t pay enough attention to notice him. Only because there was something strangely familiar about him- something you couldn’t place your finger on.

It takes about another week before you figure out the identity of the mysterious boy. After that day, you got up without a word as soon as the professor finished his lecture and headed out. You didn’t bother talking to the guy, figuring it was a one time occurrence that he chose to sit next to you. But the next day, and the next day after that, he slips in the seat next to you silently. 

Your eyes widen but you look away before he can catch your eyes on him again. Questioning thoughts run through your head, but you shake them away as you pull out your notes. Why hadn’t you seen him in your class before? And why did he choose to sit next to you again?

But when your professor starts class you soon forget about the him and focus on your work again. The only time you stop writing is when you hear a soft snore coming from your left. 

At first, you ignore it.

It’s quiet enough so that the people in the row below you can’t hear it. But you can. Eyebrow twitching in annoyance, you glance to your right to see the guy obviously passed out, cheek pressed on his arm and mouth hanging slightly open. At the unexpected view you almost laugh but instead brush it off as a cough. You wonder if you should wake him up, but he seems so relaxed in his sleep that you can’t bother to wake him up. 

Or at least until class is over. For the first time, you aren’t the first one to leave class. Taking your time while packing up all your stuff, your gaze constantly flicks back and forth towards the sleeping figure. Is he ever going to wake up? 

Well, it didn’t seem likely so you took matters into your own hands. You gently shake his shoulder a couple times before he groans and sits up. The poor guy looks dazed, blearily staring at his surroundings before his eyes fall on you. 

You grip your bag tighter, “I think you passed out somewhere in the middle of the lecture.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Aw shoot, really?” 

He shakes his head to fix his hair. You bite your lip, nodding. 

“Yeah. Hard.” 

Clearing your throat, you tentatively speak up again, “Do… do you want my notes? I don’t really mind that much.”

He gladly accepts and you take out your phone. “I’ll send them to you. What’s your number?”

As soon as those words leave your mouth, you pause. “Wait, it’s not like that-“

He laughs and your heart stops. No way, it sounded so similar to someone that you used to know, someone you used to-

“Don’t worry,” he smiles, “I get it.” 

Something was so strangely familiar about him, you felt like the answer was just out of your hands. 

“O-oh, uh, alright..” 

Why in the world were you stuttering?

You freeze as he offers his phone to you. And with his next words change everything.

“I’m Park Sunghoon. And you?”

It takes a moment before your mouth drops open. The familiar smile, echoing laugh, it all made sense.

 “Park Sunghoon? Sunghoon?!”

He cocks his head in confusion and a foreign feeling washes over you. 

“It’s me-y/n y/l/n,” you state in shock, “Do you remember me?” 

You actually couldn’t believe it. After all these years, you met once again. Park Sunghoon, your childhood friend from over 7 years ago. You two weren’t the closest, but you still hung out in the same friend group and enjoyed each other’s company regardless.

You could say you genuinely enjoyed hanging out with him, even when he was the popular guy in your class. Girls would surround him daily but you didn’t really care. Park Sunghoon was cool to you as an nine year old and that was all that mattered. 

Seeing him again, after so many years, was so strange. Puberty definitely hit him, and you could say with confidence (and a bit of jealousy), it only did him good. That’s probably why you couldn’t recognize him at first, and that it had been so many years since you thought about him. Yet he still kept that familiar charm- beaming eyes and handsome smile.

Your friend group split when you guys all went to different high schools, losing contact, but you were happy that Sunghoon still managed to grow up well. That he managed to make it to college and even be in the same class as you (not including the fact that he was late and snuck in… or that he fell asleep in the middle of the lecture).

After reuniting, you agreed to meet up at a nearby cafe to catch up. It was so strange to reconnect with someone you never expected to see again in your life. Sunghoon was just as pleasant as he was back then, not like the other annoying boys in your class. You figured that’s why you got along so well with him to this day. 

And because you now had someone to struggle alongside with in organic chem. 

Walking out of the store, you sigh in content. 

“I still can’t believe you were the one to sit next to me without even knowing it.” 

Sunghoon nods, “it must’ve been fate.” 

You roll your eyes, nudging his side. “You believe in all that stuff?” He shrugs with a small chuckle. 

“I don’t know but it makes me wonder if any of our other friends go here too.”

Humming in agreement, you reply with, “That would be so cool, but what makes you think we could search the entire campus for one of our old friends?” 

Sunghoon pretends to do the calculations and you huff. “I barely have friends, it’s kinda sad how you’re like the first person I’ve talked to at this university.”

“Yeah? Well, me too. I’m glad you’re the one I got to reconnect with.”

Your eyes widen as you laugh awkwardly. His sudden words really caught you off guard.

“S-same here.”

Okay, so maybe university wasn’t so bad. Neither was organic chemistry, now that you had a friend to study and stress with. Sunghoon was like a beam of light- your savior- but not in a creepy idolistic way. He was the one that always made you laugh after a hard day, scolded you for sleeping so late, and showed up to your dorm with two heavy bags of snacks to get you both through the night before tests. 

Sunghoon lets out a groan as he plops down in the seat next to you. He begins to hum a random tune so you shoot him a look. He glances curiously back at you, “What?”

“We need to focus, Sunghoon,” you remind with a warning tone, “unless you want to fail the next exam too.” 

He sighs, shifting around to find a comfortably position. You can feel his movements brush against your side since he left essentially no space between the two of you. The warmth emanating from him weirdly comforts you. 

“Let’s take a break,” he whines. You check the time, realizing that it indeed has been four hours since you started studying. 

“We never had to do this in elementary school,” he grumbles again and you shake your head in exasperation. 

“Did you forget we’re adults now?”

He suddenly sits up and you turn to him expectantly. There’s a sudden change in his expression, more of a childish gleam appears in his eyes. 

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t have snack breaks too.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, and seemingly out of nowhere Sunghoon pulls out two ice cream bars. 

Your mouth drops open. 

“How long have you had those and how have they not melted?”

Sunghoon shrugs with a glint in his eyes, handing one to you that you accept with a grateful thanks. 

The familiar plastic crinkles in your hand as you smile in wonder. “No way- this was my favorite ice cream when I was like seven.” You glance at Sunghoon, joy quite visible on your face. 

“You remember?”

He snorts, avoiding your gaze, “Yeah. Kinda hard to when you were obsessed and ate it practically everyday.“ 

You proceeded to protest- who could eat ice cream everyday? That called for diabetes, cavities, and probably a whole lot of other health problems you didn’t have the time to deal with. Sunghoon then tells you to shut up and eat your ice cream. 

You do, silence filling the air for a couple minutes as you both snacked on the cold, delicious treat. Each bite brought back more and more memories, and you could confirm that it was still your favorite. 

Eyeing the treat with a satisfied hum, your gaze is only torn away when you hear Sunghoon let out a laugh. 

“What’s so funny?”

Instead of answering, he slowly reaches over to wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb. You freeze, eyes blinking a little too fast and often to be considered normal. 

When he pulls away, acting as if nothing just happened, you turn your head to the side. 

It was usually like that.

You’re not sure when Sunghoon got this flirty or whatever- whether it was something he learned in high school or if he was always like that growing up and you were too young and dumb to notice (although you preferred the latter because imagining Sunghoon acting all nice to other girls left a disgruntled feeling in your stomach), you were certainly surprised the first he acted that way. 

You really shouldn’t have been shocked though, even at a young age he was the popular guy in school and you were just the average student. Even now, you could see how popular he was. It wasn’t just because of his looks either, Sunghoon just had that personality. He captured everyone’s attention whenever he entered the room and all the mom’s hearts as well with his manners and charisma. 

You must’ve gotten too lost in your thoughts because you feel a finger poking your cheek.   

“Is the ice cream that good?”

You scoff while swatting his hand away from your face. “Yeah, focus on your own instead of looking at mine.” 

You gesture to his own ice cream melting, quite literally about to drip onto his hand. He lets out a surprised noise, reaching to lick it before it dripped onto him, and you burst out in laughter. 

But at some point, you don’t think you can brush it off. You can’t say that Sunghoon is naturally so friendly and flirty to everyone, because he’s not. 

As you noted before, Sunghoon was just as popular as he was when he was young, which meant he attracted a lot of people (read: girls).

But he wasn’t as nice to them as he was to you, usually if someone approached him he would respond politely and carotid out the conversation until needed- and then turn back to you. 

Others followed him around, and he followed you around. Even from the beginning he sat next to you in the dining hall without a second thought. 

And when you inquired him, Sunghoon just shrugged nonchalantly and made some dumb excuse that he didn’t have anyone else to sit with. Clearly a lie- who knew how shameless Sunghoon could be by lying straight to your face?

“You’re the only person I know here.” 

Okay, maybe not a complete lie. But then again, you knew plenty of people were willing to get to know him and be his friend, and plenty more that wanted to be more than just a friend to him. 

You were dumbstruck at how so many strangers could walk up to Sunghoon and act like they were besties. Even more at how casually he would reply while you stood off to the side like a fool because you didn’t make any effort to socialize and instead spent time just trying to adjust and survive college. 

Plus you soon came to the realization that you really only had Sunghoon. And you could only hope that he depended on and needed you as much as you needed and depended on him.

Getting through the first quarter of the school year together, most people saw how you and Sunghoon were essentially glued to each others side. (More like Sunghoon was stuck to yours, but same nevertheless).

Perhaps they talked and gossiped, and perhaps you tried to convince yourself you didn’t care when you really did. Sunghoon didn’t seem phased at all, probably since he was used to it. But for you, it was different. 

How could you not feel a little self conscious when such a bright and popular student like Sunghoon only hung out with your everyday average student like you? 

It made you question why he continued to stay by your side- with a plain, ordinary human like you. 

But when he still chooses to sit next to you everyday chirping a bright good morning at you, steals your pencils and erasers constantly, and randomly sends you pictures of memes he thought were funny, you feel reassured and dumb for feeling that way. 

Either way, you spent like 80% of your time with him. That meant all his “flirty moves” were bound to reach a limit. A little too much to the point you can’t ignore it and brush it off. 

Always opening doors and pulling out chairs for you? 

He’s always been polite and well mannered. 

Offering you his jacket and getting upset when you reject it? 

So maybe he’s just the sulky type. 

But ordering a drink with two straws and expecting you two to share it without even asking?

That crossed a line. 

I mean, who was willing to share a medium sprite at McDonald’s? (Not you, that’s who).

You’re scared to think there may even be a possibility that Sunghoon likes you. 

And when one day he does his daily ‘good morning’ and you excitedly tell him you didn’t fail your exam, he smiles. 

But it was a little too breathtaking, to the poor you feel like you’re stuck in time, like you could stare at him for hours. 

Yeah, you’re scared you might like him too. 

The more time you spend with Sunghoon, the more down bad you realize you are. 

You saved a seat for him at lunch today without even thinking about it since he said he was going to be running late. Your mind was already wandering off to what dish he was going to order and what food he was going to steal from your plate as well. 

You realized, your feelings had been that way for a long time. You liked Sunghoon since when you first met all those years ago, regardless if you wanted to admit it or not. You saved a seat for him at the lunch table just like you did when you were kids, only now it was years later and you were college students at university. 

“Hey,” Sunghoon seeming comes out of nowhere to awaken you from your daze, “thanks for waiting for me.” 

You blink, “Oh. Yeah. Of course.” 

As you eat, you suppress the urge to offer your food to him as you watch him eat hungrily. What happened? You were supposed to be the one that protested when he took your food. But when he does it this time, a chopstick sneakily approaching your plate, you don’t seem to mind as much.  

When you both finish, Sunghoon letting out a satisfied sigh of fullness and you making fun of him for it, you both leave campus together. 

Sunghoon easily takes your hand in his as you stroll down the sidewalk. 

Oh, that too. 

You weren’t sure when it happened, but it was so natural you accepted it a little too naturally. So maybe you did look like a couple. Just maybe. 

At some point, you let go of his hand and he shoots you a look. You shake your head, amused. “Go home, hoon. You don’t have to walk me all the way back to my dorm.” 

He protests but you raise a hand and wait for him to finish. “You need to get some rest, especially since you skipped breakfast.” 

“What? How did you know?” 

You cross your arms, “I always know. Now go home and get some rest. I can survive on my own. But text me when you get back, okay?”

His eyes widen like he’s surprised. “Okay. But I’m still coming over later so we can watch the new season of spy x family. I’ll bring the snacks,” he adds with a wink before walking off and you wave, unable to hide the fond smile on your face. 

The way he treats you so special, you wonder if he likes you as much as you like him. It must be obvious, can he tell that you like him? 

And if you do like each other, then what? 

It becomes a normal thing—he kisses your forehead, he calls you over and you both fall asleep in his bed watching anime together—he does everything a boyfriend would do. 

He invites you to come over for dinner during the holiday vacation with his family. You almost rejected but at the sheer pleading look on his face, you can’t say no. 

You’re nervous. You’re meeting Sunghoon’s family. You’ve heard and seen them a little when you were kids, but that was so long ago. Sunghoon reaches over to squeeze your hand as you wait outside his parents house. 

His sister opens the door. Her eyes widen. 

“Sunghoon! And…”

You both immediately unfreeze.

“This is y/n, don’t you remember her from elementary school?” He lets go of your hand to gesture quickly. You’re still in awe at seeing his sister all grown up to do anything. She frowns before her eyes light up. 

“No freaking way, the y/n that you had-“

He almost lunges forward, yelling something along the lines of “shutupshutupshutup“ and awkwardly laughing as you stand there. 

Meeting the rest of his family went a little smoother. Honestly, everything went too well. You got along great with his parents and even warmed up to his sister albeit the rocky introduction earlier. 

Everything was great. Except one thing. 

Sunghoon only introduced you by your name. No friend, classmate, or another g-word that you preferred not to think about. 

His parents didn’t question it. But his sister did. She definitely gave a look of “what’s going on between you two?” and even worse was that you didn’t have an answer.  

It made you uneasy, but you decide to focus on spending a nice dinner with his family instead of dwelling on other pressing matters like your relationship with Sunghoon. At least, for the moment. 

You’ve been ignoring it for a while and it’s gotten tiring. When Sunghoon walks you home that night, he noticed your unusual quietness. 

“How was the dinner? Was something wrong with the food?” He has such a concerned gaze that you almost feel guilty. 

Confrontation was one of your weaknesses. Yet you couldn’t keep going on like this, back and forth in a mental game of tug of war- he likes you, he likes you not. 

So you can’t help the words that spill out of your mouth. 

“You like me.”

He stops in his tracks. You exhale before continuing, “And you have to know that I like you.” 

Sunghoon clears his throat, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. “Uh, yes?”

You frown at his response. “That’s it? We just like each other?”

He avoids your gaze and you think this Jamie the first time you’ve seen him act shy. 

“Do you want more? I didn’t want to move too fast-“

You raise your arms exasperated- more at the situation itself than him. Your shoes scuff the ground as your voice softly echoes through the night air. 

“I dunno? It’s obvious, it’s more than just liking between us. So what is it?”

You knew your feelings were more than that. it was much much more than that. 

“Now, what?” You whisper. Taken aback, the silence only lasts for another minute or so before he bursts out laughing 

“I mean, I thought we were together already. Wasn’t that obvious?  Wasn’t my longterm crush on you obvious? That fact that I spent so much with you and take you to see my family, you didn’t catch on…” 

You stutter, gasping for air like a fish out of water. “It really wasn’t,” you mutter under your breath. 

He huffs, half amused and half relieved. “You’re right, it’s more than just like. I really like you, is that better? There’s another l word that I won’t say yet but you know, just putting it out there.” 

He avoids your gaze at that and confident surges through you after you process the sudden turn of events. You step closer with newfound confidence, looking up at sunghoon from under your lashes and feeling your breaths mix. 

“Then... Are we not going to kiss?” You murmur hesitantly once you feel the loud thumping of your heart. 

For some reason, your mind flashes back to the time you first saw Sunghoon in class, crawling on the floor like an idiot. But technically, he was your idiot now. Who knew taking organic chemistry would lead to this? 

“Says who?” Sunghoon smirks while leaning in. 

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for “not being able to keep issues in servers separate”

🌻🌷🌹🥀 (to find later)

this all happened a couple months ago now in mid november-ish so i’m sending this late, but i didn’t want to while the situation was ongoing. for the record me and everyone affected have collectively since left both servers mentioned. so. wee

i (23mtf) do a long of long form roleplay, specifically in public oc-based discord servers. these are servers where people will create a setting and then people can join and insert their ocs into the world, and they’re tons of fun! this is a hobby ive had for years now. it’s really important to me as it’s my main creative outlet and i know a good number of people in the community. i’ll often join servers and recognize at least a handful of people there already

around may last year, i joined a new server and things were great, for a while, but then not long after i joined someone new did, i’ll call her X (34nb) for this. when she first joined the interactions we had were fine, but - and i’m still really not sure why this is, i’m not trying to absolve myself if i did do something but i have no idea what i did to warrant this shift even to this day - a few weeks later she just got… extremely passive aggressive and contrary with me, over silly things. most of it was “in character” but it really stuck out to me. i’d have a character say something marginally unconventional and she’d always, without fail, have one of her characters come in to scold them, even if her characters hadn’t been part of the conversation prior. her characters constantly talked down to or insulted mine. she was always talking ooc about how strange her characters found mine. when i tried to get involved in overarching plots, she would often push me out of them, or insist that my characters were only getting in the way, or would insert her characters to do things i’d stated to the group i wanted mine to do, so i didn’t end up able to do anything. it seemed targeted to me because the main character she was doing this with was known to be very kind to everyone else, but for some reason never had anything nice to say about mine. i know none of this is outright bullying but it wore on me greatly. i tried to confront her on this multiple times to tell her it was making me uncomfortable and to please knock it off, and i tried to get the server mods involved when that failed, but the behavior never really stopped and eventually i was content to just… not interact with her

but then a while later i noticed her treating someone else the same way. i reached out to him about it, and he told me that she had done basically everything she’d done to me to him, and he wasn’t the only one. after snooping around a little more i realized that a lot of people in the server had had this problem with her, totaling 7 of us. 7 of us in the group at the time. some people had dropped characters or outright left the group because of her, so 7 isn’t even everyone because it doesn’t include people she’d already driven out that i couldn’t contact. for reference, this server only had roughly 30 people. even if the number of total members was bigger, 7+ still feels like a lot

i tried to take this to the mods of the server again, but (and this is where i’m unsure if i misstepped) i thought it would be right to bring it up to the mods of a separate, larger server that all of us were in together as well. this server had closed to 50-60 members. in my head, if this person has harassed over half a dozen people like this it’d be silly to assume its only a problem in one group, and even if it wasn’t a problem in this larger server it would be better to make them aware of it so they could keep an eye out

the mods in both servers weren’t happy with me, through. even when all 7 people tried to give testimony, both teams claimed there wasn’t enough evidence to support harassment and that they’d talk to her about it, but this didn’t warrant any further action. keep in mind again i’d already had to go to the mods about this same person before, so they weren’t unaware that this happened to me and they had tried talking to her already. then they told me that it was inappropriate of me to bring this up in a server that wasn’t necessarily involved, and that the 7 of us were ganging up against her and bullying her. and i, especially, had been unfairly targeting her

this confused me greatly! i will admit, it’s likely i’ve been snippier with X than i intended. thats on me, i struggle with tone and i have trouble masking my frustration, but i have never once gone out of my way to make her feel bad. she has a generalized anxiety disorder or some such, and before i realized how many people had this issue with her i had been avoiding her for months. i have no idea what i could have said to her that was taken as bullying, because i haven’t been talking to her, period. when i see her in channels i just mute the channel until it’s passed, ive seriously done everything i could to minimize contact because i figured it was a personal issue. i asked both the mods and her directly, in dms, for examples or screenshots of what i said or did so i could adjust my behavior, and i never got shown any. i still as of typing this don’t know what i did to warrant that being said

the mods said they would give her a warning, but they gave me a warning as well, that if i continued like this i would be booted from both servers. they insisted to me again that i’d been clearly bullying her (did not provide examples) and i never should have brought it up to the other server and gotten them involved. i admit i think they might be right on that last point, but i am iffy. i had (honestly still have) justifiable reason to think X is an unsafe person to be around. she pushes people out of the community and cries and gets meek if she’s ever confronted on it in a way that’s distinctly guilt trippy and makes it hard to communicate. i have previously tried to resolve my issues with her in private and she was never receptive nor did she ever accept accountability, or change her actions. if her target calls her out she just starts doing it to someone else. it’s not like her being in a different server suddenly means she’s a different person. if someone like that is in your server, even if you don’t have “proof” that it’s happened in your group, wouldn’t you want to know about it? they kept insisting it had nothing to do with them and it was wrong of me to get them involved. i kind of think this is a cowardly policy to have, that you won’t act on or acknowledge harassment from your members unless it happens right in front of you and is blindingly obvious, but i don’t know

to be clear, i think X is an asshole, so that’s not what i’m asking about. anxiety disorder or not, she is frankly too old and has done this too many times for me to believe it’s unintentional. even if it is unintentional, she’s still hurting people and makes no effort to change. but i’m wondering if i’m an asshole for bringing it into another server. should i have just kept it in the first group?

What are these acronyms?

[dwonfilm]

Come hell or high water. | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?

This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 (verging on 6 now) would be the best fit.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of alcoholism, violence, sadness.

Mentions: Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Bobby Singer, Crowley, other made-up characters to further the plot.

Here’s Part IV if you haven’t read.

Flashbacks are in bold.

Part V:

It had been about a year since Lucifer had ruined Dean’s life. At least.. he thought it was a year. Honestly? He’d given up trying to keep track of time after a month. Frankly if Sam wasn’t keeping the tally on where or when or how.. Dean had no clue. Well.. that wasn’t the entire truth. There was one thing that he could keep track of and that was the alcohol cabinet. It ran out far more often over the course of the last year than it ever had. Sam tried, several times in fact, to get his brother to sober up. Every couple months like clockwork the younger Winchester would try to pick up more pieces of his older brother’s life. Today had just so happened to coincide with that schedule. Sam sighed, walking into the dank motel room that the brothers had been sharing for a few days. They’d been in Phoenix for a couple of days and once this case had come up, Sam knew it was gonna be hard. [Y/N] was from Arizona and having to face this state without her would be hard for them, of course more so for Dean. “Did you bring more whiskey?” Dean’s words were slurring together slightly, but it wasn’t anything that Sam wasn’t used to—there was hardly a day that went by where his older brother wasn’t drinking himself to the point of blacking out.

“Dean, you can’t help me hunt this thing if you’re shitfaced.” Sam again sighed, because as much as he meant that, he knew better than to come back without the booze. He’d tried that a couple of times during the first few months of her absence. Once in New Orleans and the other in Houston. Both times had resulted in fists being thrown. Louisiana was the time where the punch connected, Dean nailing his baby brother square in the jaw—apologizing for it immediately after. Texas had him shoving Sam into the wall and holding him there before breaking down into a fit of tears. “Mhm, yeah, the hell I can’t.” Again Dean’s words slurred into one another and he pulled his hand over his face. “Sammy.. I can’t. I can’t be here knowing that she isn’t with us.. I can’t be here knowing that and be sober. I promise you I’ll lay off on it next case.. please. I can’t do it here.” Dean sighed, his voice raspy and raw with emotion. It was the most sober sentence that he’d uttered in a long time. Sam moved across the room to the bed that was his brother’s for the time being and sat on the edge. Next to it on the nightstand was an empty bottle of Jack Daniels. “Dean I know this is hard but..” he paused, not wanting to push his brother but this isn’t healthy and at this rate he was killing his liver and quick. “..this isn’t what [Y/N] would want for you, man. She-“ Dean’s gaze shot upward and the bloodshot nature of his eyes was made clear.

“Don’t. Don’t use her for your own personal gain here.” Again his words sloshed together and Sam just looked at him. “My personal gain? Dean the only thing I’m trying to gain here is my brother not killing himself by drowning in alcohol. She wouldn’t want you killing yourself and making yourself more vulnerable to the shit we hunt day in and day out. I know she was your girlfriend, I know she was the love of your life but she was like my sister and I loved her too.” For so long Sam had buried his own grief, his own guilt for letting [Y/N] make that call and letting her leave, his sadness about not only losing someone he cared deeply for but living every single day to watch his brother killing himself slowly. “I promised her I’d take care of you, Dean.” Sam’s voice was just barely above a whisper. He’d expected his older brother to yell, to shove him off of the bed where they sat, to have yet another heated argument with Dean. What Sam wasn’t expecting however was the deep sigh and the shakiness of his brother’s voice when he did speak. “I know.. I’m sorry Sammy.” Dean’s voice was small, it was clear that they both had used the little bit of silence to begin crying. Another silence washed over the two brothers and it stayed like that for a number of minutes.

“I’m worried about you, Dean. I don’t say these things to make you feel shitty man, I just know she wouldn’t want this for you and I don’t want it either. Cas is working a lead that may be able to help us with getting her back, but right now we need to help these families. I’ve been going over some of these details in my head and I think it might be a witch.” Sam explained, but this only had Dean’s irritation return. “Great. We just had to come to Arizona and it just had to be a witch. Someone up there’s got a real sick sense of humor!” He shouted, looking up knowing that if the angels were still tuned in, they’d have heard him. Sam couldn’t help but sigh softly, it really seemed like the world was stacking the deck. However that was nothing new. “It’s late man, try to get some sleep. I’m gonna look some more and see if there’s something I missed—hell maybe I’m wrong.” It wasn’t likely that he was and both of them knew that. “Yeah, alright.” Sam stood up from the bed and moved over to the little table in the corner of the room. Dean reached into his bag, grabbing the same flannel he’d taken everywhere else. When it started to lose the smell of her, he’d spray it with her perfume. He’d just done so last week, so the smell was strong. Laying it between his arms he would slowly sink down to a laying position. Resting his head on part of the fabric and letting the exhaustion and drunkenness take him to sleep.

It was summer, they’d had a surprisingly quiet week. Sam was at Stanford and so the only person that Dean had except for his dad was [Y/N]. They were laid on Baby’s hood, the night slowly enveloping the daytime sky. It was a good week too, they hadn’t really fought much. Right now they’re just enjoying each other’s company and gazing up at the stars. “I think it’s so funny, we’re so small physically in the world and yet we alter it for the better almost every single day.” [Y/N] spoke softly, her [Y/E/C] eyes fixated upon the sunset overhead. Dean turned on his side to face her with a smirk upon his features. “Sweetheart we both know there’s nothing ‘little’ about me.” Dean replied, winking quickly at her. He was met with a smack to the shoulder while she chuckled softly. “Not what I meant, idiot.” She replied, turning her head to face him. Dean’s expression feigned hurt but he was smiling through the mock ‘offence’. His green eyes flicked upward for a moment to watch the sky darken. “I know, sometimes it feels like we should be welcomed into these towns with a party.” He spoke, sighing softly. “You mean like a hero’s welcome?” [Y/N] asked. Dean simply nodded. “I mean.. we probably should. If even half of the world knew what was really out there.. this entire planet would freak. People like us have been.. we’ve had our whole lives taken from us in a sense and yet we just.. keep going.” Now Dean turned his attention back to [Y/N]. “You mean to tell me you’d wanna be normal?” He asked, quirking his brow. She sighed before looking back up to the sky. “I don’t know.. I was never given the chance to know what normal looked like—this is all I’ve ever known.”

Things got quiet for a little while but Dean’s eyes kept finding their way over to [Y/N]. “If you have a question, you can just ask.” She spoke softly, not moving her gaze from the stars that were now making their appearance in the sky. He never knew how she did that—just knew what he was thinking in a way that wasn’t invasive or supernatural. She just.. knew him. “Did you.. did you think about hanging it up before you met me? After.. your dad?” Dean’s tone was soft, he didn’t bring up [Y/N]’s father much because it was obviously a sensitive subject. She released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and slowly looked over to meet his gaze. “Did the thought cross my mind? Sure. I was younger, you know probably could’ve scammed my way into some college.” She sighed. “I also was distraught and sad and not thinking with much clarity. By the time you and your dad showed up, I was already convincing myself to look for work. Maybe fate brought you to me.” [Y/N] smiled as she reached over towards Dean, her hand gently cupping his face. She knew he was in his head too much, probably trying to blame himself for keeping her from a ‘normal’ life. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Dean had woken up as her lips touched his, that was a memory that he’d forgotten he had. Sighing, he squeezed his eyes closed to get rid of the tears he knew had built up quickly. Rolling over he looked at the clock. 7:45AM. Turning around he saw that at some point Sam had gone to bed. There was no way he was going back to sleep now nor did he want to, so he opted to take a shower. There was the beginnings of a headache coming on, because for the first time in.. god knows how long he’d actually taken a break in drinking alcohol. Time had gotten away from him until he heard knocking on the bathroom door. “Hey man, leave some hot water for me.” Sam spoke before walking back to the table to get back to work. After a couple minutes Dean emerged from the bathroom and took a glance at the clock. 8:45AM. He turned towards his younger brother to see him eating, a breakfast burrito on the opposite side of the table for him. “Thanks.” He spoke up before sitting in the other chair and unwrapping the food. “No problem.” He responded before taking a bite of his own food, immediately after leaning closer to his screen. “So, unfortunately, I was right. This is definitely a witch.” Sam said, using his touchpad to scroll further down on whatever he was reading. Dean groaned before taking his first bite of the burrito. While he ate, Sam went over the details of the case and where they’d have to go in order to get more answers.

They’d found the witch, who was killing people for their hearts—collecting them to use in some kind of dark spell to grant her and her coven immortality and power. Sam and Dean had located her home after noticing a pattern with where the bodies had been found by police. This house had a storm cellar and it was likely that she was taking her victims down there to extract their hearts. Despite keeping quiet, somehow the witch had been alerted to their presence. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I should’ve known you’d be on my trail.” She spoke, turning away from the woman who she’d kidnapped. “Yeah well, if you know who we are you should know this little killing spree you’re on is finished.” Dean spoke, his gun aimed at the witch. Sam had his gun aimed too and the witch turned fully to face the brothers. “Is that so?” She asked, an eery smile upon her lips. “We can spare the song and dance cause no one’s interested.” Dean spoke up again. It was clear that his nerves were at the end of their rope. Sam didn’t necessarily disagree with his brother but the tension was getting worse. “I mean, we could.. but then I couldn’t mention the fact that I have very powerful friends.” She continued. “Why would we care who your friends are?” Sam asked, confused that this was the plan to try and get them to spare her life. “I have a spell for immortality and power growth, doesn’t that make you think about what other powerful spells my coven possesses? Ones that could maybe, free trapped people?” She continued and suddenly it clicked in Sam’s brain. “Don’t.” He warned the witch.

Dean quirked a brow but didn’t turn or move, keeping his eyes and his aim on the witch. “What? You don’t want to help your brother?” She asked, the younger Winchester getting increasingly irritated. “What are you talking about?” Dean asked, which caused Sam to groan. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid. “People talk, people whisper. I’ve heard all sorts of things about you two—two who used to be three.” Dean’s stomach twisted in knots. It was clear what she’d been hinting at now and it left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. Sam’s protective instincts took over and he pushed his way in front of his brother. “That’s enough.” Sam warned, his nerves being pushed. However this witch knew that she was in a matter of living or dying and wasn’t going to give up so easy. “What? Hey, if you want to leave her suffer in the pits of hell.. that’s cold but I support it.” Dean winced at this statement. He spent so many nights restless, wondering what kinds of torture Lucifer was making [Y/N] endure—knowing full well that he loved the emotional side of things almost as much as the physical. “I said that’s enough.” Sam repeated, knowing that despite his older brother having a hatred for witches, he’d very likely do anything to free [Y/N]. “You think I’m just trying to keep myself alive, but like I said I know lots of powerful witches. There’s a spell out there that can help. You just have to come back with me. I help you, you help me. We’ll get [Y/N] and—“ Suddenly the witch dropped to the ground, dead. Sam had heard enough and once her name was spoken it was the final straw. Dean moved to free the girl who had almost been another victim, getting her out of there.

Six months later.

Fort Wayne, Indiana—the boys had just finished a hunt. Vamps nest was completely wiped out. After cleaning up, Sam basically forced Dean to go to the local bar. Not because he wanted anything from his brother but he knew that today marked a year and a half since [Y/N] was forced to go to hell alongside Lucifer. Staying in the motel room would only mean that Dean would get too in his head. Sam was hoping that the music and the pool alongside a bit of alcohol would be enough to keep his mind at bay, at least for a little while. Dean sat in a booth sipping his beer while Sam had gone for refills. There was a blonde who’d been eyeing Dean every so often, clearly interested in something. Seeing that he was alone she figured it was the best time to approach him. Confidently she walked over to the table, swaying her hips just a bit with each step. Once she reached the booth she paused, seeing if Dean would react in any way to her presence. About a minute went by and he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even turned his head to look in her direction. She cleared her throat which broke Dean from his daze. “Can I help you?” He asked flatly, looking up at the woman for a brief few seconds before gazing forward again. “I was just wondering if I could join you, you seem lonely over here.” She tucked some of her blonde hair behind her ear. “I’ll pass.” He stated plainly, hoping that Sam would be back any moment. It was clear her confidence took a blow but she was trying to remain determined. “C’mon.. I’ll get you a refill. What would it hurt to get to know one another?” She continued and it looked like Dean was about to snap but Sam finally approached the booth. “My brother said no, so, go back to whatever you were doing.”

Scoffing the blonde turned on her heel and walked back to her table and friends. Sam slid the fresh beer over towards his brother and sighed before sitting down. “Sorry, I never thought about that.” He spoke up, lifting the glass bottle to his lips. “About what?” Dean asked, but then he clued in. “It’s fine. I never thought about the possibility either. Usually..” Now it was the older brother’s turn to sigh. Usually [Y/N] would either scare the girls off altogether, making it obvious she and Dean were an item or she’d tell them off directly—hell she’d even fist fought a couple. Sam felt bad and in this moment was questioning whether dragging Dean out was doing more harm than good. He watched as the eldest of the two took a swig of the beer he’d been handed. Time ticked, a few minutes of silence between the brothers where the noises of the bar took hold. Suddenly Sam’s phone rang, so he flipped it open to answer the call. “Hey Bobby, what’s up?” He spoke, Dean’s mind having him only paying half attention. It had been several minutes since his brother spoke and that finally had Dean’s full attention. “What is it?” He asked, the expression on his younger brother’s face unreadable. “Yeah that was Dean, he’s with me.” Sam replied, to Bobby, with Dean leaning forward to attempt to hear whatever the conversation was about but he the table stopped him from getting too close. “Sam.” Dean said sternly, trying to get the information. He held up one finger to try and get his brother to wait. “Yeah, alright. We’ll be on our way. Bye.” Sam closed his phone and looked at his brother but the expression was still blank.

“Sam what’s going on?” Dean’s tone laced with worry, confusion and a couple other emotions. “We need to go to Bobby’s—now.” He replied before standing up and beginning to walk towards the door. Blinking a bit, the older of the two was still in a sort of a daze. “Dean! Come on!” Sam called out, which had his brother sliding out the booth and quickly catching up to his younger brother. They walked to the impala and Sam got in the driver’s side, leaving Dean to get into the passenger seat. Flicking his wrist now, Baby’s engine purred to life and the younger Winchester pulled out of the parking space and onto the road. First they had to stop at the motel to grab their stuff and check out. Sam took the duty of loading up their things while he gave Dean the key to return to the office. He’d ran the key back and thanked them for the room before returning to Sam who was just closing the trunk. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” Dean asked, resting his forearms on Baby’s roof. Sam was double checking that he had everything before closing the door to the room. “Sam!” He exclaimed, causing the taller of them to turn towards his brother. “What Dean?!” His mind had been racing ever since he hung up from the call with Bobby. “Are you gonna clue me in? Why do we need to rush to Bobby’s?” Sam knew his brother was right to ask, it wasn’t like him to keep things from his older brother but it wasn’t his call—he also wasn’t sure on things. Hell Bobby wasn’t sure either. “I.. I’m not sure if it’s something and Bobby asked me to just get there, with you, as fast as we can.” He explained, fidgeting with the keys to the impala in his hand.

Dean was confused, searching his younger brother’s eyes for any kind of hint as to what was so important. He wanted to argue, wanted to push for more information but at the end of the day he trusted Bobby. “Okay.” He said, pulling on the handle and getting into the passenger seat. “Okay.” Sam mirrored, slipping into the drivers side yet again and backing out from the motel and taking off down the road. Sioux Falls was their destination and if they could make it without any stops that would be best. Dean’s mind was racing—it could be so many different things. They had so much going on that it was hard to pinpoint what issue Bobby had cracked or what he was getting close to cracking. Man their lives were a mess, a chaotic and insane mess that most humans would never be able to grasp. Sam had a firm grip on the wheel as he drove, which he’d been doing most of the time over the last year and a half. Often times Dean had too much whiskey in his system and honestly, his older brother wasn’t putting up much of a fight about it. When it came time to drive to a different state, Dean was close to the point of blacking out anyway. Most drives during this time was Sam being alone with his thoughts while Dean passed out and slept. Slept until a nightmare woke him up, or sometimes worse, a dream that felt so real that Dean forgot [Y/N] was gone. Those hit him the hardest, the realization that she was in hell along with the sobriety like an 18 wheeler running him down. Nightmares were a toss up. It was either stress and trauma from his own time in hell or it was imagining what kind of suffering that [Y/N] was being forced to endure. Sam wished he could do more, but all he could do was offer moral support and watch.

It was almost two days later by the time that Sam and Dean were pulling into Bobby’s yard. Neither of the brothers could pinpoint where it came from, or when, but their anxiety was piqued. Neither of them really knew what they were walking into but both of them basically sprinted up the steps and knocked once before walking into the house. “Hello boys.” Sam and Dean both wide eyed when they saw Crowley sitting in the living room. “W-what are you doing here?” Sam asked, Dean wasting no time and drawing his gun. “Where’s Bobby?” Dean demanded, but his question was answered immediately after when the older man walked in with a couple of books. “Dammit, boy. Put that thing away.” Bobby spoke to Dean, which had a look of confusion cross the eldest Winchester’s face. “What?” He asked, looking at Singer. “Put the goddamn gun away if you wanna get down to it. We don’t got much time.” Bobby replied, flipping through the pages of one of the books he’d brought in. “What does Crowley have to do with things?” Sam asked, to which the King of Hell laughed. His gaze shifting between both of the brothers before speaking. “Well I’m here to help you lot bust [Y/N] out of Hell.”

Author’s note: Hi! Sorry if the chapters are getting shorter, I can’t tell, but I feel like the story is still being told sufficiently. I still haven’t decided how many parts this will be but I know for the most part where I’m taking it but just wanted to add that in—I feel like the first couple chapters were longer. I guess the lengths just vary with what I’m trying to convey. Hope you guys enjoy! 😊

• —– ٠ tag list: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester ✤ ٠ —– • ·

[hyperref-lex-ia]

lots of common reactions i get as a mute person

all the following are peoples reaction when they assume i am deaf, the most common assumption

- flustered and lifts hands to try and sign and then lowers them when they realize they dont know ASL

- flustered and starts to sputter and talk before settling on mouthing things at me

- mouths “can you lip read”

- talks really loud at me (which wouldnt do much if i was deaf so idk)

- goes to find something to write on

- sometimes if i type on my phone in my notes when i need to say something other than yes or no people will go to literally take my phone from me to type back instead of literally anything else

- signs some of the more common sign, i get thank you a lot (especially in customer service situations, which is where most of these happen)

- if it is someone on the street saying something and they assume im deaf when i sign at them they usually just disregard me which is actually really nice

these next ones are when people dont assume im deaf, which is rarer

- talks to me normal

- talks to me like im dumb

heres a few nice incidents

- guy asked me if i was mute in spanish and i nodded and he asked if i knew spanish and i was like not really lol (live in a heavily hispanic area so i picked up on enough to understand) and he switches to english and shares about a talk he had gone to recently about mutism

- girl working at sonic assumed i was deaf and ran inside just to grab her phone to help me which i thought was really sweet so i just didnt correct her

- just today i was using the self checkout at a gas station and the guy behind the register sees me getting frustrated with the card reader and slides over a piece of receipt paper that says “tap works better” and i am like “i dont have tap” and i decide to just cancel the self checkout and move to him cause hes got good vibes and he holds the bag up and raises an eyebrow allowing me to have a choice in it which i dont often get. when i am leaving he signs “have a good day” super slow and obviously practiced a lot, and the fact that he obviously learned that just in case this happened made me really happy

- every time someone has happened to know ASL in public, its always surprising how many hearing/verbal people know ASL, almost always because they are CODA

- the enthusiastic gay man at my eye doctor who got so excited when he saw i signed even though he doesnt know it, because he thought it was so cool

- every person who goes “oh you speak ASL” and then immediately thinks about thay sentence and kind of 404 errors out as they realize you cant speak ASL

- the tiny middle aged mexican woman who has worked the store at my school the entire time ive been going there who knows me because i always go there for caffeine and snacks, and manages to always communicate with me despite a couple language barriers and will often berate me if i dont get water with my caffeine or if i dont get food, and who also wishes me happy holiday for every holiday that comes around, and was also very visibly worried when i had to rely on a cane for a few months

- my painting professor who always takes so much pressure off because hes so blunt, when i came in with a cane everyone danced around asking about it and he walks in and goes “what the hell happened to you??”, the most recent thing that made me laugh is we were talking and i was using TTS and as we are walking into the studios he goes “im gonna go talk with Ronnie, give your thumbs a break” and then we both started laughing

the worst interaction ive had

- had one of my professors numbers which happens sometimes because it makes life easier and she texted me out of the blue saying she “had a dream she was at my wedding and i spoke my vows” with heart emojis and i did not know this woman at all and i was like…what the fuck…not only is that unprofessional but also ableist

lastly shout out to my friends who translate for me purely off lip reading who dont know ASL