#just trying to get through a shitty living situation together

[nichiperi]

Ya know, I've been seeing a lot of stuff for the hc of Zim and Dib as found family lately, and something about it was actually bugging me a bit. Like, I really like zade, zadf, and zadr, and I just couldn't understand why I couldn't really get behind zads.

And then I realized it's ENTIRELY because of Professor Membrane.

I do not like the idea of Zim being absorbed into the Membrane family dynamic, because in the show (the IZ source I'm most familiar with) Professor Membrane is a really shitty parent, and there is nothing satisfying to me about Zim just hanging out at that house with Dib and Gaz, adding another sibling to an already fairly miserable household situation. Sure, they can support each other. But what is the point of keeping them stifled in that environment if Membrane is not present and being a parent?

BUT, consider the alternative: Dib and Gaz saying 'fuck this shit I'm out', and spending more time with Zim at his base. Eventually they just go off on space adventures or something because why not? Found family in space! No shitty dad! Maybe if you reeeeally want a parental figure, you could throw in a dash of the dad-nar hc in there for some extra spice. And THEN you could have Zim deal with his feelings about HIS 'parental' figures. If Lard Nar starts being a real dad to this group of ragamuffins, how does that reframe the way Zim feels about the Tallest? How does Dib feel about the fact that an alien could (most likely) be a better dad than his own father? How do the two of them react to getting positive attention they've never received from a parental figure before?

And when I started thinking of it that way, I saw the potential. I still don't think it's my favorite. I think I definitely enjoy more room for flexibility and ambiguity with Zim and Dib, and making them view each other as siblings almost boxes them into that role a bit. But I can see the potential for a really interesting story there!

Provided Membrane is out of the picture.

[moonstruckme]

hi mae you mentioned new girl au asks and so i have arrived!

i've lived alone most of my adult life and while i'm content pretty much all of the time, there is a specific situation where i've wished i had roommates.

it's those days where i've fucked up at work or a friend is mad at me and I miss the bus and have to wait in the rain without an umbrella, and I get home to a completely empty and cold apartment and just start sobbing as soon as i get through the door. during those days i feel like the most pathetic girl in the world and really just wish i could text my roommates to make extra food or turn on a heated blanket or just like, offer a hug lol.

i would love to see how the marauders would react to their new roommate on a shitty day like that, if you feel like writing it <3

Thank you lovely <3

roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

It’s all you can do to make it inside. Your throat has been tight the entire last two blocks to your building; your eyes start to burn in the elevator, small puddles of rainwater forming beneath your shoes. By the time you’re fitting your key into the lock, you know you won’t make it to your room. You only hope that no one is home to witness your upset. 

Of course, with three flatmates who all have incredibly varying schedules, that is never the case. 

“Hey!” says James, not immediately visible but evidently having heard the door. “Do you wanna come say something to Mr. Palmer? We’re trying to make him believe in ghosts.” 

You look into his room as you pass by. James is lying stomach-down on his bed above a heating vent situated low in the wall. His smile is all mischievous anticipation. When he looks up at your approach, it falters. 

“You alright?” 

“Who’s Mr. Palmer?” you ask. 

“He’s…” James blinks, sitting up. “He lives below us. Hey, are you okay?” 

You shrug pathetically, pressing your lips together as your eyes burn even more furiously. You take a step back, retreating automatically to your room, but James frowns and opens his arms, beckoning you towards him. It’s too tempting an offer to pass up. 

“What happened?” he asks, rubbing your back. He hugs you like you’ve known each other for years, unreserved in his touching. “You’re soaked, babe.” 

You give a little laugh. “I know.” 

“Did you walk in the rain the whole way to your interview?” 

“I got kinda wet on the way there, then bombed it, then missed the bus coming home.” 

James makes a sympathetic noise. “Why didn’t you just get the tube? Or call one of us to come get you?” 

Your heart warms at the thought that one of your flatmates would have left the flat and taken their own public transportation just to bring you home. “My phone died.” 

“Oh.” James rubs your back again. “I’m sorry, babe. That’s tough luck.” 

You sniffle. You feel bad for crying into the shoulder of this boy who you really only met recently, but the hug actually is helping. You feel half as anxious as you had when you came in, though nothing really has changed. James must just give really good hugs. 

You look over your shoulder when you hear footsteps approaching. Like James, the impishness in Sirius’ expression dies when he sees you. “Good god.” He lowers the plastic recorder he’s carrying. “What happened to you? You’re soaked.” 

What is it with these boys and stating the obvious?

“I know,” you say, using the butt of your palm to wipe your face, “thanks.” 

“James, what’ve you done to her?”

“It wasn’t me!” James holds up his hands. “It was the weather. And the TfL.” 

“Well get the poor thing a towel!” Sirius tosses the recorder onto the bed, stalking from the room. “Christ, I have to do everything around here.” 

You eye the recorder. “Why did he bring…?” 

“We were trying to make Mr. Palmer think he’s hearing ghosts,” James explains. “Thought woodwinds might add to the effect. Do you want tea?” 

Tea, you’ve learned, is how your flatmates sometimes refer to dinner. Most of the time this sounds far preferable to you than the actual beverage. 

“I could eat,” you say. 

“Can’t believe you didn’t leave a trail of water from the door,” says Sirius, returning with a towel. “Here.” 

You take it, not keen on admitting how you wrung the moisture from the ends of your hair before entering the building. Too humiliating. 

You allow James to shepherd you into the kitchen, where Remus is busy with something on the stove. His brow creases with concern at the state of you. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“She missed the bus,” James explains succinctly. 

Remus frowns. “Oh, that’s shit. How did your interview go?” 

Your throat contracts all over again. You try to keep your mouth from wobbling. “Not very good,” you say quietly. 

“I’m sure it was better than you thought,” says James. 

Remus hums his agreement. “I’m making pasta. Would you like any?” 

“But I…” You clear your throat, trying not to seem too pathetic. “I didn’t pay for any of the groceries.” 

He tsks. “Don’t worry about that. Would you like some?” 

James nudges you towards a chair beside the one Sirius has already taken. “Um,” you hesitate, “sure, please. Thank you.” 

Sirius smirks. “And people say the English are overly polite.” 

You don’t speak much. You aren’t in a mood for talking, and Sirius and James do well enough to fill the silence anyways. They don’t seem to mind letting you mope, though after a while their chatter does lighten your mood some. They’re just so at home with each other, it’s difficult to be around them and not feel like you’re home too. 

“Thanks,” you murmur when Remus brings you a plate. 

He sets a hand on top of your head, a brief solace. “Don’t mention it.” 

The more familiar you become with English accents, the more distinct Remus’ sounds to you. You can hear it in his vowels sometimes, the way he says news or orange, the soft lilt when you try to help him in the kitchen and he tells you to sit down, love. You wonder if he’s from a different area than James and Sirius. You’ll have to ask him sometime. 

“Can I ask for something ridiculous?” you say. 

Sirius raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re always being some degree of ridiculous,” he drawls, in the sort of tone you’ve only recently learned to recognize as teasing, “so why stop now.” 

“Is it, like, treasonous to ask to have actual tea with your tea?” 

James looks delighted. “You want tea?” 

You squirm, oddly sheepish. “It sounds sort of comforting, I guess.” 

He hops up, kissing the top of your head enthusiastically as he goes for the kettle. “We’ll make a Brit out of you yet.” 

[everythingspokenfor]

All characters are aged up 18+. MDNI.

You know this prank could potentially get your ass whooped, but you are willing to try it. You and Bakugou had been in a bit of friends with benefits situation, close friends turned into sometimes more, not quite lovers yet.

Bakugou did try tho, asked you out multiple times, reasoned that you live together anyways, sleep together anyways, but you were adamant, the idea of fucking up a good friendships if the relationship didn't work out prevented you from saying yes to him.

Although, as time goes on you sort of realise, that your friendship won't really be affected at all, he was too good. Any mess ups will be dealt with together. You figured he was the one for you long ago, and getting together was inevitable.

That didn't stop you from being a menace tho.

"We can't continue this anymore, I found someone," You spoke a little too casually, before continuing to steal carrots from the counter and eating away. As you reached to grab another one, Bakugou's hands came to hold your shoulders before slipping around your throat, fingers tightening as you tried to pull back.

"'nother word about 'someone else', and you'll never be able to 'find' 'im again."

Shivers ran down your spine, you looked at him to if he was joking, only to see complete seriousness in his eyes. He backed away slowly, picking up a small peice of carrot and bringing it up to your lips, slowly nudging it inside.

"Chew up, baby, don't want ya' to choke," he grunts out, tone no longer as threatening,"now, be good." He snorts at the slight dilation of your pupils, patting you cheek, with a slightly harsh hand, getting back to making dinner.

"Heroes aren't supposed to kill, Suki." You voice meek, but you still torment him further, not a single chill bone in you. He turns to look at you, eyes sharp as you bat yours at him, lips pouty, you are testing his patience, he knows that much too.

He lets out a sigh, too sick at the idea of you even thinking about someone else, it's a joke, he knows, but that doesn't make it any better.

"I will tho." He struts towards you, standing between your legs, hands coming to cup your face, "get this through your skull, Shitty woman, for me it's you, only you, anything, anyone that comes in between, I'll deal with it." He whispers, face close enough his minty breath fans your face. Fingers squeezing your cheeks, forcing you to keep your eyes locked at him.

The threat should scare anyone that is sane, but maybe you are just as twisted as him, maybe that's why your pussy slicks up at his words. Hips subtly grinding the table, you hope he doesn't notice it, he does tho.

"Think I didn't notice that, if ya' wanted my dick, should've asked," he kisses your jaws, sucking at your earlobe, "always gotta be a menace." He pulls away, staring at your debauched state, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, legs wide open, dark spot forming at the center of your underwear, if he looked closely he could see your hard little pearl pulsing.

"Dinner first, Shitty woman, then I'll decide whether ya' get dessert or not."

[bluesidez]

The Love Lab presents:

Boyfriend is to Husband

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader

summary: How would Miguel react if you did the “calling my bf my husband” trend? 🤔

content warning: It gets a little suggestive, but other than that, it’s fluff fluff fluff. There are short mentions of food, but nothing too crazy. The Miguel in here is also not Spiderman. Just a little guy.

credit for art and dividers: Me! and @kimjiho1 (plus another person for the gif divider, if this is yours, lmk!)

a/n: This will be apart of a series called The Trendy Couple! This is the first installment ☝🏾😌. I’m not sure how long the series will be, but right now it’s just based off of cute couple's trends. My fyp has suffered trying to do research for this…

word count: 2.2k

I use the word "buggy" in here. Buggy = shopping cart or trolley. I'm southern so buggy just rolls off the tongue. ❤︎ Plus, it sounds cute!

You and Miguel have been out since 8 am running errands and grabbing supplies to fill up the new apartment. 

After a year of your dresser being full of his sweatpants and hoodies and his furniture hosting several of your blankets, his fridge being stocked of your favorite fruits and your shower caddy holding his body care, you both decided it was best to live together. 

Towel sets, bed sheets, comforters, silverware, curtains. This was only the tip of what you and Miguel had managed to stuff inside the car.

After hitting five shops just that morning, you opted to stay in the car while Miguel went and handled a pickup order from the hardware store. It was getting closer to lunchtime and you didn’t want to become irritable because of the long lines. 

To pass the time, you decided to scroll on TikTok, watching video after video, reacting to each accordingly. 

First, it was chatty kitties begging for food. Then, it was edits of hot wrestlers. Next, it was ramen recipes to cook at 2am. There were even a couple of NPC lives even though the trend was nearly dying at this point. 

Finally, you scrolled to a video hosting a girl and her boyfriend huddled together in a car over the console.

She’s leaned up against him, her smile beaming, “Today I’m going to be guessing my husband’s favorite things!”

“I’m not your husband,” are the words that shoot from her boyfriend’s mouth, fast as lightning. Cold. Unkind. Callous. 

You watch as the girl’s smile drops and the video cuts, her laughing out of shock beforehand, evidence of her trying to stamp out her embarrassment. 

You watch more as his grin widens and she gives him this awkward glance. 

“Not yet,” he adds, seeing how quiet she was. 

The video ends with her jumping at him playfully, trying to play the situation of. 

“Jesus,” you sigh, mouth turned sideways as you pause the video and open up the comments. Thousands of people were telling her to dump him, others questioning why he would say what he said in the way that he did. 

Your heart went out to the girl who clearly wanted to do a harmless joke that completely backfired. 

You liked a comment about this being a possible red flag. Although he could have responded that way because he wasn’t ready for marriage, his response was so quick and distant that it was like he was disgusted at the possibility of being with her that long. 

After working yourself up by scrolling through the comments, you decide to go even further by pressing the “calling my boyfriend ‘husband’” search at the top. 

There were so many stitches to the original video with people giving their own thoughts about the situation. Some people were proclaimed dating coaches, others psychologists, and a few influencers. 

You even see a follow up video from the original couple with the guy giving a shitty excuse as to why he was so quick in his response. 

“Yeah right,” you mumble, watching the girl snicker at her boyfriend’s pouts. You agree with the comments that his response makes the original video even worse. 

Still scrolling down, you find another video featuring a new couple. 

They’re at a table eating donut holes out of a hat, and when the girl calls her boyfriend “husband”, the guy’s entire body lights up. He’s grinning, cheeks rosy, and can’t stop staring back at his girlfriend. 

From there, you were able to see countless other couples with cute videos, all of the guys radiating at the word “husband.”

Biting your lip, you wondered how Miguel would react if you called him your husband. 

You loved him with all of your heart and you were sure that he loved you. You guys are literally moving into an apartment together. But the thought of him being unsettled by you calling him your husband weighed on you. 

Just as you were deep in your thoughts, you heard a knock near the trunk of the car startling you. Looking up in the rearview mirror, you see Miguel standing with a few bags and wood planks in his hands. You reach over and press a button to pop open the trunk. 

“Got everything?” you ask, turning to watch as he drops items in the back. 

“Yeah, I think so. Although there was almost a brawl over some potted plants,” he said. “Some older lady just came up to this guy and snatched his monsteras.” 

“What?” you respond, watching as he closed the trunk and walked around to the driver's seat. “Out of his hands or the buggy?”

Miguel laughed, both recalling the scene and finding your terms adorable. “She just came up and snatched it out of the cart while he was waiting at the end of the line. She swore that she saw it first.”

You listened to him retell the story, hand under your chin as you leaned closer. He was cute, lilt in his voice to make an impression of the plant thief. Thinking to yourself that you liked this little moment of playfulness, you take your phone out to record. 

Placing your phone in a case attached to the dashboard, you smile at the camera while Miguel’s still going. 

“‘You youngins think the world owes you everything, and that’s just not the case!’ And the poor guy is standing there going ‘ma’am, I just want my plant back.’ He looked so distressed.”

“I would be too! A random lady just shopped from my buggy. It’s like, why are you this close to me to see what I’m trying to buy?”

Miguel turns the car on and buckles up. “It started to escalate when the lady’s friend came over. Then there were two shrill voices fussing at this guy.”

He started to back the car out of the parking spot, hand behind your seat and head turned towards the back window. 

You slowly glanced at his arm, eyes tracing a vein up his shirt. 

Too bad you were in a car right now or else you’d let his arm wrap around you elsewhere. 

You tune back into his words, silently scolding yourself for letting something so simple get you to fold. 

“Luckily, I was able to calm them both down. All it took was me showing them some dasheen leaves,” he said, driving the car closer to the exit of the parking lot. 

You came to a conclusion. There was no better time than the present. 

“Aw, look at my husband. Saving the day with his genius,” you say, hand reaching out to pat his chest. 

Then you feel your body jerk to the right. The seat belt tightens as the car jerkingly swerves in between two parking spaces. 

You stare in a panic at Miguel who puts the car in park and turns his entire body towards you. 

“What did you just call me?” he asks, eyes searching yours, a little startled but mostly hopeful. 

You decide to keep the charades going, “I was just praising my husband for stopping the creation of another Karen video. Why did you turn the car like that?” You’re still looking at him as if he has two heads. 

“You just-!” Miguel takes your hands into his and places his forehead on his fists. “Baby, you know what you just said.” 

You laugh, a little giddy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Miguel leans back against his seat and closes his eyes, reaching down to take his seatbelt off. His eyebrows scrunch up as he brings your hand to his chest, “Feel my heartbeat.”

Your mouth drops as you feel his heart rattling against his chest. He really wasn’t being dramatic. 

“Baby look at me,” you grab his hands and hold them tight. “You did a good job today.”

His breath stopped, as he looked at you. His face was tinted from the whole fiasco. 

“Husband.”

Miguel’s entire body slumped as he grinned wide. He nearly jumped over the console to sag his body onto yours. 

His shoulders were shaking and you heard his laugh muffled by your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and make a face at the camera. 

“What’s up, Mig?” you say, trying to get him to talk. 

He mumbled into your clothes, shoulders still shaking. 

“I can’t hear you, you gotta sit up.”

He sits up and sniffles, turning his head toward the backseat. 

Looking at his profile you can see a few streaks down his face. 

“Are you crying?” you ask, turning his face towards yours. 

Miguel swipes his wrist across his cheeks, “Stop, this is extremely embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not! I promise it’s not,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his ear. “Talk to me.”

He chuckled, eyes looking down, “It just feels really good to know that you think of me that way. We don’t have to ever cross that line, but one day, if you would like, we can make that title true.”

“Is this a pre-proposal?” you ask, heartbeat in your ears. You went out on a limb to follow a trend, not knowing how it would end. Now you’re staring at Miguel’s flushed face with his heart pouring out into your lap. 

“Maybe,” he whispered, grabbing your hands. “Possibly a promise for what could be.”

You bite your lip to hold back a grin, “Can I know what could be right now?”

“And expose my plans? Not a chance,” Miguel smirked. “Besides, a husband knows what’s best for his partner, right?”

“He does,” you quip, rubbing your hand in a circle on his chest. “He also apparently forgets that SUVs can flip very easily.”

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he says, looking sheepishly at the placement of the car. “Did I startle you?”

You just giggle at his concern and give him a quick peck on the mouth. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that big of a reaction.”

“How would you react if I casually called you forever mine? While driving!”

“Go 90 in a 70,” you joke. “Maybe pull over and do a little more than make out.” You rub your hand down his chest, and squeeze playfully at his pec. 

Miguel stared back at you, body instantly reacting to the shift in conversation. “We can actually do that right now.”

He leaned forward and brought your lips to his. You could taste the mint from the gum he had earlier, humming when he pushed further into your mouth. 

He started to reach for your hips, ready to pull you over onto his lap. 

Your stomach let out a loud grumble, making you jump. 

“Ok, let’s try this again after we get you some food,” Miguel says, plastering kisses on your face. 

The day moves on smoothly with Miguel not letting you out of his sight, hands itching to hold you in some way. 

He also never lets the husband thing go. 

As you’re ordering lunch, “One lemonade for my baby. And a water with lemon for me, the husband.”

As you stop in a clothing store at the mall for a small break, “These say boyfriend jeans. Do they have any husband jeans?”

As you’re trying to reach the top shelf to grab the last of your favorite detergent, “No, cariño. Let your husband get it for you.”

As you’re looking for throw pillows and towel sets for the apartment, “You think they have a couple’s set? I want something that says ‘Mr.’ on it.”

As you stop at a gift store, looking for something extra to give to the movers, “Look, this shirt says it’s made of ‘hubby material.’ Should I get it?”

This feeling is only amplified when you post his initial reaction online. The comments were full of people yearning to be in your predicament. 

“If my boyfriend doesn’t crash the car when I call him husband, THROW HIM AWAY. 😒”

“Does he have a brother….asking for a friend”

“I needed this after the “I’m not your husband” he in LOVE”

“If your bf doesn’t cry at the thought of you, what are you doing”

“He was blushing HARRRRD 😭😭😭”

“So when’s the wedding? 🤨”

“He was literally cheesing and crying omg”

“Get you a man that stops the car to declare his love”

“What if I did a five mile marathon on i-55”

“He’s so in love with you that it’s palpable”

“He was ready do a lot more than make out 😭”

Miguel saw most things, a little embarrassed but mostly happy that so many people found him to be genuine. 

You laid on his shoulder as he checked the comments, liking the funny ones as they passed by.

“Do you want to make a response video?” you say, liking a comment going ‘he’s a good man, Savannah.’

“No, I think this is enough,” he replies, handing the phone back to you. “Let me keep a little mystery. At least until I actually propose, of course.”

You looked at him with stars in your eyes.

“A mysterious husband. I kind of like the sound of that,” you say, wrapping your body around his side. “Maybe I can be nosy, find out his secrets.”

“I bet you would, cariño,” he voiced, nuzzling his chin on top of your head. “After, everything is planned and done.”

You laughed and snuggled closer, happy to be with him.

Once again, I hope you enjoyed reading! ❣️

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.

I'm excited for the future of this series and I hope you guys are too. When I finish the series masterlist, I'll link it here. If you guys have any trends that you want me to include, then just let me know and I'll see what I can do!

- Blue ♡

[torchickentacos]

you- you bought a fetal hog from barnes and noble?????

Okay SO! Long post ahead. Storytime. A little set-up for this saga: first off, this story centers around bio 102 lab class. Second, my college has a little on-campus supplies store which just so happens to be run by Barnes and Noble. It's basically a B&N but with overpriced college-color lanyards and shitty coffee and stuff too. and pigs. SO.

Imagine. It's the beginning of my semester a semester or two ago (it all runs together, idfk). This all began in late August and ends at the dissection in October, if I recall. Now, I've taken a lab class before, I know how it works, but I've never done a dissection. I've worked with live animals in an educational setting through vetsci classes back in a high school accreditation program/courses, but I've never had to work with preserved animals, so I didn't know the ~standard procedure~ of how you would prep/find materials for a dissection. I saw 'dissections' on the syllabus and assumed they'd just provide the dissectee to you. You know. Because that's the most rational assumption. You'd think that's how that would work, that they'd just put it on the table in front of you.

...Then I read further down the syllabus and saw that students were expected to buy their own fetal pigs (out of pocket, might I add. Like, our little trio at the lab table pooled our poor college kid money until we had 80 bucks, but I'm getting ahead of myself). It was very specifically specified on the materials list, alongside buying a lab coat and a book and lab guides etc, that we would be buying a fetal pig.

So naturally I was like 'well, that doesn't sound right, but what do I know'. Reread it more closely to make sure, and yep, it's asking me to buy a pig fetus. Not covered by my class fees. What the fuck.

Out of equal parts confusion and curiousity, I then asked tumblr, like "Hey, um, is it normal for your lab to ask you to buy your own fetal pig???" Here were the responses on that.

So that was a fairly unanimous 'no', lol.

At this point, I was like, 'okay, I probably just give them the fee and they take it out of the freezer on the day of the dissection. Right?' No. Wrong. I spent a couple weeks trying to figure out how to source my own pig fetus before our professor FINALLY told us a few classes in, about a month before the dissection, that we would need to go walk over to the school bookstore and buy it there, at BARNES AND NOBLE, all the way across campus, and bring it to lab the week before the dissection so that she can put them in the freezer and have them ready for us.

So I ended up doing just that. Several weeks later, I woke up at like seven in the morning- THIS WAS A MORNING CLASS TOO which by the way, any new college students, don't do that to yourself- anyways I woke up early, got ready, got to campus, and walked into the Barnes and Noble to the cashier lady and was like "Hi. Um. I'm sorry but do you have any fetal pigs?" and thankfully she knew exactly what I was talking about lmfao, and she went and got me one and I paid with the pooled money. And I walked back across campus. With my little vacuum-sealed pig fetus in tow (which, by the way, bigger and heavier than I was expecting it to be. I was expecting maybe a squirrel sized thing but it was roughly the weight of a small pumpkin and, like, hand-to-elbow long, but I have short arms).

And, you know, I've gotten into some situations in my life (the recent accidental acquisition of a ton of sauce comes to mind) but I really think that walking across campus with a bagged pig at like eight in the fucking morning has to be in the top five experiences I've ever had. It's really high up there. Brisk autumn wind biting through my jacket, the leaves are barely hanging on, the sky was the kind of bright blue that contrasts with the auburns and umbers of the dying greenery, just an absolutely gorgeous fall morning and I'm experiencing it with a dead pig in a plastic bag as I walk down the sidewalk.

It was pretty interesting to dissect, though. My lab table named her Peppa (we also had a goldfish named Darcy, who, thankfully, got to be alive and unharmed for his experiments).

[hgfictionwriter]

Revelations: Part Six

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie’s been part of your daily life for years. She’s been your partner; your future. You try to find a way to let go without losing her altogether.

Warnings: Angst.

A/N: Rest of the series is here.

You sighed heavily as you stared up at the darkened ceiling of your new apartment. It had been a busy week of unpacking, cleaning, getting settled and sorted. The days had been so full on between work and the move that most nights you more or less collapsed into bed in sheer exhaustion.

Even then though, the stillness and quiet of your new apartment weighed on you. The unfamiliarity - the loneliness - of your current living arrangement caused your insides to twist incessantly and sleep eluded you.

You'd hoped that the weeks you and Jessie lived together while broken up would've dulled the harshness of this transition, but it seems that had been a foolish thought.

You absently and habitually played with your ring finger, dull realization setting in yet again that your ring - Jessie's - was long gone. She'd wanted you to keep it; adamantly so, but you forced her to take it back.

Hardly realizing it, you hand palmed your nightstand and you retrieved your phone.

1:45 am.

You released another restless sigh and automatically opened up your conversation with Jessie.

"This might be a record for me. I just finished a whole season of Alone in one night. At this point I feel like I could compete on the next season."

You couldn't help but chuckle faintly. She'd texted you that an hour ago - clearly she was having trouble sleeping as well.

You two may have been broken up, but you were still talking daily.

You still weren't sure you could be her friend or even if you wanted to be, but to go from being so deeply connected with someone, to live with them for years, to sleep next to them nearly every night, your lives, moments and dreams, entwined, from seeing reminders and tokens of them throughout your entire home, to none at all, it was even harder than you'd anticipated.

Being so busy and preoccupied helped keep it minimal during the days, but at night? You both seemed to gravitate to one another despite your situation.

Your cheeks puffed out in a weary exhale. A voice in the back of your head told you to close the conversation, your phone, do anything else, but instead you texted her.

"I bet you'd do very well on that show. I can actually picture it lol. Me? Not so much. Besides, beats the trash I've been watching."

You immediately closed out of the conversation the second you sent it as if that'd somehow erase your wrongdoing.

You'd barely opened up a different app when a notification from her came through. You may have stopped going to her games - watching them in any sense, it was just too painful - but you still knew her training schedule. She'd have to be up in a few short hours. She really must be having trouble sleeping, too.

"You're not giving yourself enough credit. You're resourceful and smart. You'd do just fine. And I definitely want to know what so-called trash you've been watching."

"You don't. Believe me. It's bad."

You hesitated before sending a hurried follow-up.

"Consider yourself lucky that you're not being subjected to it"

You saw the text bubbles pop up for a couple of seconds before disappearing. You stared at the screen for several moments, pulse starting to quicken and only increasing further as she started typing anew.

"I definitely wouldn't say that."

You saw a false-start of a new message from her again and you waited. When it seemed like she thought better than to send through anything more, she added:

"I'd love to be together watching some shitty tv show. I'd give anything for that."

Your eyes snapped up to the ceiling with a shaky breath as you pushed the back of your head deeper into the pillow. They fell shut as a rush of emotions came over you. A deep frown was etched on your forehead as you tried to get your feelings back under control.

Your phone buzzed in your hand.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

Another weary sigh escaped you. You hated this.

"Don't be."

"I want the same. And it fucking sucks."

"The days are hard. Horrible. But the nights are unbearable."

"I wake up looking for you. Assuming I ever actually fall asleep."

Your chest expanded with another shaky breath.

"I know the feeling."

You rubbed your eyes in agitation before hurriedly writing another message.

"I miss you."

Your shoulders fell as soon as you sent it. You were weak. So weak.

Your breath hitched as your screen lit up with a call from her. You stared at it as your phone continued to buzz in your hand. Your lips were parted as your breathing grew quick and shallow.

You answered.

"Hello?"

A beat passed and her voice filtered into your ear.

"Hey."

Your eyes fell shut and you felt your throat tighten with emotion immediately. You subconsciously leaned your head into the phone and towards her voice as a swirling mix of comfort and longing swept over you.

"I-" She paused as she gathered her words, "I just thought I should call you," she finished quietly; apologetically even.

"I miss you too," she whispered, but even through the tinny quality of the phone, you could hear her emotion. "So much."

You took a steadying breath as you looked up at the ceiling.

"I hate this," you said, voice growing hoarse.

"I know, baby. Me too," she said softly, the pet name causing your lip to nearly quiver and your eyes to sting with tears. You didn't say anything and she carried on longingly. "I wish I was with you right now."

Another shuddering breath escaped you as you covered your eyes with your free hand.

"God, Jess," you managed to say, your voice pleading for so many things. You sighed in defeat and rubbed harshly at your face. "You have no idea how much I want that too."

You heard a quick sigh on her end.

"I'd come over in a heartbeat if you wanted me to," she said.

You didn't say 'no'. You didn't say anything at all.

"I-I could be there in, like, 20."

"Jess...," you said, both in want and warning.

"I'm coming over," she declared gently and you heard rustling on her end of the call.

You listened wordlessly for several moments and could hear her moving about and gathering up her things.

"You shouldn't. We shouldn't," you said weakly and with little conviction. By the jingle of her keys, it seemed you weren't fooling her either.

"I'll stay on the line," she told you unwaveringly.

Her effort and longing for you validated an ache and hollow in you. You wanted her here. You wanted her arms around you. You wanted her to speak declarations of love and devotion in your ear that would make everything else go away.

You heard the elevator ding.

Your eyes opened and you let your hand fall from your face to your side. Her wanting you, her loving you, wasn't the issue. Falling asleep in her arms wasn't going to fix anything - it hadn't all of those nights before.

You were hurting yourself, and her.

"Jess."

She didn't reply.

"Jess. Stop," you told her with quiet authority. "We can't do this. You know we can't."

"Y/N..."

"Jessie. I love you so much. But, we can't do this," you said regretfully, though with no room to debate it. "Please turn around. Please go back upstairs," you instructed gently.

The line was quiet for several seconds.

"Okay," she accepted, the disappointment in her voice still detectable. "I'm sorry," she added meekly.

The elevator dinged again and soon you heard her keys in the lock of your old front door.

"I can't sleep without you," she said, her voice breaking with emotion. She sniffled. "I don't know how to do this," she went on, voice high and tight.

You stifled a sob at hearing this woman who, to most, was reserved and kept her emotions close to her chest, expressing such hurt and vulnerability with you.

When you spoke, your voice was tight and you blinked through tears.

"Me neither."

--------

The very next morning you booked a trip home to London. Surely, going home - seeing your family and old friends - would cure you and provide comfort and relief.

While it was lovely - and needed - to see them all again, something about it didn't feel the same as it did before. You also lamented the fact that you couldn't catch up with Niamh or Sam or any of the Chelsea crew. You loved them, but they were Jessie's friends.

And despite your efforts, you couldn't help but hone in on - even over here - families and kids everywhere. It's like your subconscious was hyperfocused. Waves of loss came over you, but you also had flickers of thoughts about what it could've been like to bring Zoie here with Jessie.

Any time the notion broached your mind though, you were quick to banish it.

After a couple of weeks you actually felt a bit antsy and unsettled. You desperately wanted to feel safety and comfort and familiarity here, but it just didn't feel right. It wasn't what you were looking for.

What was that saying? 'You can never go home again'? It resounded in your mind because it felt painfully true.

Truth was, you enjoyed your career in Portland, you liked the lifestyle, the weather, and though you loved your old friends, you missed your new ones too. Beyond Jessie, there were reasons you were open to moving; leaving your home. So even if it looked different now, you still liked the life you'd built in Portland; maybe more than you realized.

Maybe someday you’d reflect on this and realize something else was fueling this decision - maybe pride, maybe plain old stubbornness - but some deep seated part of you felt you needed to see things out in Portland. You didn't want to run away.

So though you didn't feel overly content in either place right now, you felt strangely ready to go back.

The hardest part about coming back might've actually been that you had less distractions from Jessie's texts. When you were away, it was easier to disconnect and you started to put more emotional space between you two.

When you got there, she was still texting you daily - a good morning text with wishes of a good day, an inquiry or two about your day, a good night text, and the odd text in between with a picture or comment about things that must've reminded her of you.

As your responses slowed, Jessie adjusted slightly, but was undeterred in many ways. She still at least wished you a good day every day. If she was put off by your delay, she didn't show it because she responded promptly if she wasn't training or at a game. She even asked on a couple of occasions - when you were more responsive than other times - if you'd be interested in grabbing coffee or lunch together. As friends of course.

Now that you were back and in your routine again, it was harder to resist picking up your phone and texting her back.

It was hard, so hard, talking with her and trying to walk this line of friendship. It felt so unnatural to politely inquire about one another's day but not come home to each other, to not make plans together, or think of things as 'we' or 'us'.

You wanted to know about her life - what was she up to, what things were new, what things were the same - but it made your chest tight every time. It was so stupid and frustrating, you'd initiated this, you wanted her to live her life and for you to live yours, but it still hurt to be nothing more than a peripheral observer these days.

This couldn't be how it was meant to be.

"What are you up to this weekend?"

"If you have some time and you're open to it, maybe we could meet for coffee?"

You pressed your lips together tersely as you contemplated your response. You scrolled up through your conversation with her.

It was friendly enough, but neither of you were being truly open and honest as you texted back and forth. You were both just treading water - and for what?

You took a deep breath and replied.

"Sure. We can meet for a bit. When?"

You could've said more. But what you needed to say to her you wanted to say in person. It seemed the decent thing to do, but you'd be lying if you didn't admit that you also just wanted to see her - maybe one last time.

----------

When you rounded the corner to the coffee shop you spotted Jessie right away, standing there waiting. She anxiously gnawed at the corner of her thumb while restlessly shifting from foot to foot and scrolling on her phone.

You were readying yourself to greet her when her head snapped up, somehow picking out your steps amongst all the others that crossed back and forth in this area.

You hadn't seen her since the night she helped you move in. Your pulse was already pounding loudly in your head before you saw her, but now it quickened further and it took very conscious effort to keep your breathing controlled.

Her posture immediately straightened and she dropped her hands stiffly to her sides, almost standing at attention as you approached. A warm smile tentatively crossed her face. She went to take a step towards you, arms coming out slightly telegraphing a hug, but hesitated and remained rooted to her spot instead.

"Hi," she greeted, quieting her smile in an effort to seem casual. She looked you up and down quickly and said, "You look good." She immediately averted her gaze and began blushing. She squeezed her eyes shut and gave a single shake of her head. "Sorry. I, um, I don't know why I said that. It seemed like the polite thing to do - not that I don't think you look good! But like, not in a disrespectful or inappropriate way. I-"

"It's fine," you cut her off with a faint laugh and offering her a reassuring smile. You smirked. "You look good too. And 'hi'."

She gave you a grateful smile, shoulders relaxing at your reprieve before she stood confidently once more and offered a smile that seemed more natural, easy.

"Wanna head inside?" She asked as she gestured to the doors with her thumb. You nodded and she opened the door, standing aside for you as she held it. "What can I get you?" She asked next.

"Jess," you chided as you gave her a look. She chuckled and shrugged.

"Come on. It's coffee," she said pointedly.

You wanted to make a flirty crack about how that's how it always starts; it did for you two. You gave her your order instead and she looked so pleased that it hurt your heart.

"There's a table over there," Jessie noted as she nodded towards the other side of the shop when you both had your drinks in hand.

It was tempting. In this moment it would be so easy to sit down in this cozy cafe, chat the afternoon away and fall back into old habits. Being with her in person was like a jolt to your system. Even your memories didn't do justice to how easy it was to want her; love her.

"Actually," you interjected, some of your apprehension returning, "I was hoping we could go for a walk."

"Okay," she agreed easily. "Sounds great."

Again, she trotted a few steps ahead to open the door for you. You offered a tight smile as you stepped through.

You breathed easier as soon as you were outside.

You eased in. Asked her how she was, how were things. How was Zoie.

She lit up. The look of gratitude she gave you over the question made you feel guilty for how taboo you'd apparently made mention of her.

"She's doing well. Really well. She's in summer camps and loving it. She's really taken to anything science related, which, you know, I think is great."

She quieted and became aware of how you were watching her. Zoie really did brighten up her life and brought her so much joy. Maybe it was because of the distance or time passed, but it felt easier to just appreciate this. It still ached, but it was duller. It was countered with a warmth in your chest at seeing Jessie like this and imagining the happiness on Zoie's face at how much more love was in her life now.

Jessie took a sip of her drink and gave you a cursory glance before she cleared her throat.

"She asks about you," she said, pausing as if she was testing the waters. "She misses you."

You gave her a fleeting smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"She's really sweet," you said. "I miss her too." Now you cleared your throat, offering her a small smile. "And no surprise she's into science," you gave a faint, forced laugh. "That's great. We need more girls in STEM," you added with another chuckle in hopes of diffusing any mounting tension.

Jessie chuckled and soon started inquiring about your life.

"Yeah, I'm good," you answered simply. There was really no good or easy way to transition into this. Might as well dive in.

"Um, I, uh, actually agreed to meet with you because, I...," you trailed off, your eyes shifting to a low wall at the edge of the walking path you were on. You nodded towards it, "Let's sit down."

"Oh," Jessie commented, her tone dropping before she offered a breathy laugh. "One of these talks, huh?" She joked half-heartedly though she complied and took a seat on the ledge. Her shoulders her hunched over as she held her coffee tightly in both hands while her eyes stared distractedly at the ground.

You took a seat a few inches from her and she looked up at you, a worried frown etched across her forehead already. You gave her a small smile as if that would somehow soothe her.

"Um," you started again as you determinedly picked at the sleeve of your cup. You wracked your mind for the script you'd practiced over and over in your head, but the words were a jumbled mess in this moment.

You let out a nervous laugh and somehow you felt a calming presence coming from her. You turned your head to look at her, now her being the one to offer you a small smile of reassurance despite the sadness growing in her eyes.

"It's okay," she said gently. "Take your time. And say what you need to." Her head dipped slightly, but she maintained her smile.

You blew out a breath, gaze shifting to the sky as you felt tears starting to burn behind your eyes already.

"Shit," you laughed as you tried to suppress the tightness that was forming in your throat.

"It's okay," she repeated.

She was kind. And sweet. And generous. And you loved her so. Your instinct was to lean into her, seek her embrace. In this moment as you looked at her, it was so clear that you would never not want that from her. That you'd be satisfied with less.

"Some people aren't meant to be friends," you lamented as your gaze fell to the ground.

"S-sorry?"

You gave her a regretful look.

"It's been over a month since I moved out. Two since we broke up," you said in near exasperation, "and I don't miss you any less."

You caught the flash of hope in her eyes snuff out the sadness that had been there moments before. It pushed you to get on with it. You'd been dragging things on long enough.

"I've been trying to find a way to be your friend. To stay in each other's lives. Find some way to hold on. But I just can't do it," you said with measured certainty. You voice dropped to just above a whisper, as it would lessen the weight of your words. "We can't be friends, Jess." You felt her eyes on you. "And we can't be more, so..."

You turned to her with a steadying breath.

“Since I met you, there’s been this undeniable, innate desire to get closer. Always wanting more with you. So now needing to do the opposite? It’s been brutal. And so unnatural.

"It's too hard. Hearing from you, talking with you and just orbiting around the edge of your life. One foot in, one foot out. I don't know how to be your friend, and I don't know deep down if I really want to be. How can I know and experience what we had together and just pretend that a fraction of that is enough? I can't picture my feelings for you being anything less than romantic. Anything less than love-of-my-life."

You saw her face fall and it caused a mirrored reaction in you.

"I can't build a new life with you around. Even if it's just in texts," you said sorrowfully. "I can't keep sitting around, distracting myself until the next notification from you. Mapping out how to respond. When. It's - it's too much. I need for us to be apart - truly apart, to move on." Your throat felt dry. "I hope you understand."

Jessie’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears and with the way her shoulders rounded and had her hands tucked between her knees she looked so defeated.

She didn’t speak for several seconds and eventually her shoulders fell further with an empty sigh.

“I’m sorry I’ve made things harder,” she said.

“You-”

“I can text less,” she sat up as she offered it hopefully. She saw the silent sigh you released and her posture fell once more and she ran a hand through her hair. “I understand,” she offered, voice thin.

She wiped at her nose quickly and let out a shuddering sigh as she sat back.

“It’s been hard for me too. I mean, it doesn’t take a genius to know you’ve been pulling away. And of course it makes sense. We’re supposed to. I just-,” she laughed feebly with a cursory glance, “I don’t want to lose you. Completely.”

Her gaze fell and she reached out to gently grasp your hand, her thumb delicately grazing your skin. Your features immediately flickered with emotions, as did hers - you didn’t pull away though, instead relishing this moment.

“I can’t think of you as anything less either,” she admitted in a low voice. She took a deep breath and looked up at you, a couple of tears now staining her cheeks. “Is…this goodbye? Will I ever get to talk to you again?”

You couldn’t will yourself to close things so unequivocally.

You caressed the back of her hand much the way she did yours.

“I’m still here. I don’t want to pretend that you don’t exist and I don’t want you to have to do that either. But keeping up with each other doesn’t work either. Trying to stay active in each other’s lives isn’t sustainable. I want to respect what we had, and I think leaving things as they were, not trying to drag this out or turn it into something we’re not meant to be…I think that’s the best way we can do that.

“You know I think the world of you. But we can’t be friends.”

You gave a pained laugh. “At the same time, the thought of never hearing from you again…” You gave a weak shake of your head. “I can’t bear that either. I’m sure there’s the odd thing where it makes sense that we can reach out. But nothing - consistent? I guess?” You sighed listlessly. “I don’t know. I know that doesn’t give you clarity. But I don’t know how else to define things.”

She gave a series of slow nods and eventually gave your hand a gentle squeeze. She mustered up a smile for you.

“I think I understand,” she said softly.

You two sat together in silence. She squeezed your hand again and you found yourself moving in, resting your head on her shoulder. Her arm immediately came up around you and she hugged you to her side as she laid a lingering kiss atop your head.

You sat there for several minutes together, taking this moment and each other in.

Eventually, you disengaged, immediately feeling cold outside of her embrace. You two walked back to where you started and stood before one another.

“If you ever need anything, don’t ever hesitate,” Jessie said. You nodded.

“Same,” you reciprocated though your thoughts swirled with insecurity - she didn’t need you like you needed her. You pushed them aside.

“I love you,” Jessie said with a broken smile and a wavering voice. She blinked back tears again and tried to laugh. “Had to say it just one more time.”

“I love you, too.” Your gaze fell briefly as you choked up. “I don’t regret any of it. I’m so grateful for everything we had and to be loved by you.” You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. “Being with you has been the best part of my life.”

Jessie’s face collapsed with emotion. “I’m always going to be yours, you know. Regardless. You made me love and feel loved in a way I didn’t know was possible. I-” She paused with a slow shake of her head and a heartbroken smile pulling at her lips. “Words aren’t enough.”

Moments passed as you held each other’s gaze.

You had no idea a heart could break so deeply so many times.

“Bye, Jess.”

——————

A/N: I’m sorry. I know this isn’t any happier. Please be patient…!

A/Nx2: Life has been rough for me today. Being able to share this chapter with you is a highlight for me though. So thank you so much for the interest and support. It’s making me weepy today 😭

Tag requests: @marvelwomen-simp @valuyhh

[saerins]

𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒐

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 2.1k | content: fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of jealousy/insecurities

notes: of course when i’m back i write for sae … who else is possible of holding me hostage like this ? :’)

summary: he’s stupid and stubborn and bad at being a boyfriend. you make him want to be better though. always.

itoshi sae has a bad habit.

he’s not used to relationships, or the notion of having to care for someone in a certain romantic way that tests his own boundaries. this much is apparent in the way he’s only ever had one relationship before you and it was over before he started, because he’d chosen career over his ex.

and no, the situation right now with you isn’t like that. even so, it’s tough; when you feel down for no particular reason and sae doesn’t know how to handle it. and sometimes he’s tired too and you catch him at the wrong timing and you both end up sulking the entire night.

you won’t lie—you have a bad habit too. you can’t really bring yourself to express exactly how you feel. it’s difficult to open up just like that, especially when you aren’t used to it. but sae’s especially confused with how to handle these situations, like right now.

right now; when you’re sobbing in front of him and he’s feeling frustrated. when you can’t really handle the heat well—he’s a world-renowned soccer player, one of the world eleven. and next to him, no one even knows you. not when you have a non-disclosure agreement and have to keep everything super private.

it’s funny how you thought it’d be simple. then again, you didn’t factor in all the external disturbances. it tests your patience whenever sae makes the headlines when he’s out for a simple lunch with friends and makes it to the front page with a dating rumor with a top model. it’s tough for you to hold it in when you see people shipping him with someone you can only wish to be.

insecurity just hits you sometimes.

“is it really that hard to just assure me, sae?”

that includes now, when you’ve just had a shitty day and he’s so so tired from all the events he’s had to go to now, having to parade around with that top model, all to promote a brand’s upcoming fragrance line. emotions run high, neither of you have the capacity to deal with this right now.

“look, i’m so fucking tired, can we just deal with this in the morning?”

some pessimistic part of you is telling you he’ll just brush it off in the morning—all the jealousy, the frustration. you don’t even think you can last staying mad at him for that long.

“what’s the problem with talking about it now?”

“i don’t want to talk about it now, could you just let it go for the night?”

both of your voices get higher and higher, just a hair’s breadth away from actual shouting. that’s when sae reels himself in, averting his gaze.

and there goes sae’s bad habit; grabbing his keys and walking out of your shared apartment, no umbrella even though it’s raining outside and he’ll get soaked just trying to walk to the car.

you can’t find it in yourself to tell him to stay safe because you’re all out of energy tonight. everything has been sucked dry into your anxiety, and you’re spent. now what can you even do besides curl up on the couch, wondering if you’re too much?

when your phone lights up, you catch the wallpaper—a picture of sae looking off camera while he presses a kiss on your head.

it just makes you feel worse.

he’s tired. his efforts are spent. on soccer, not you. but still. it’s exhausting. couldn’t you have just waited for a few more fucking hours?

he’s tired. so fucking tired.

“hey.”

it’s a lame greeting, but that’s all he can manage right now. shidou’s in his doorway, a cock in his brow and a very annoyed look on his face.

“oi, i got a girl here—”

“don’t care, i’ll just crash on the couch,” sae cuts him off, trudging through the door and settling himself on the leather black couch, the familiarity sinking in. he used to live here with shidou before he got together with you after all.

shidou mumbles something like suit yourself before he leaves his old roommate be, mulling over the remains of his relationship with you.

sae opens his phone, the picture of you at the beach that he snapped glaring at him in this dim light. he swallows the lump in his throat—he doesn’t know how to feel. part of him knows that you feel like shit each time he does this; you’ve made it known over at least three different occasions now. but his head’s throbbing way too much and his muscles are way too sore and all he really wanted was just to come home to you, to the peacefulness he always loves.

is he really the asshole here?

a notification pops up on his phone an hour later. sae’s first train of thought is to wonder if it’s you. but it’s nothing important. it’s just oliver going over the next training’s details. the same old thing. but then sae looks up at the date and he curses inwardly.

it’s your second year anniversary. two years since you’d dated this fickle, troublesome guy.

sae’s head ducks between his palms, elbows resting on his thighs, as he considers the weight of his words.

this morning he woke up without even so much as a greeting for you; all he knew was he’d be late for practice if he didn’t leave in exactly five minutes. he’d rushed out the door and only responded to your morning greeting with a grunt. sae didn’t spare you any time for the rest of the day either, when you’d attempted to ask him out for dinner. he left you on read before ultimately tossing his phone to the side. when he came back home you’d given him a kiss and he barely reacted, too tired to give you anything even when you showed him the big dinner spread you’d cooked.

now he’s here—in an apartment at the other end of the city that’s no longer his while he left you alone in your shared apartment, leaving the argument unresolved and letting you stew in your own thoughts.

sae lets the time fly right by, staring at the ceiling while he contemplates everything. but the answer is plain and simple to him: you.

he’s tired and he’s hopelessly invested in soccer and he shouldn’t have time for anything else in his life but he wants you. he doesn’t know nearly half the right things to do in whatever situations, but the thought that he could really possibly lose you this time is enough to overwhelm him—sae grabs his car keys and leaves just as shidou and his girl leaves the room.

“oi, made up already?” he shouts after him through his front door.

sae rolls his eyes and ignores him; all he needed was some time to himself anyway. he’s glad shidou wasn’t there to poison his head with anything (or more like, he wasn’t there to convince him to drink his guts off).

ten minutes later he’s in his car and speeding back to the apartment, back to you. because no, it’s not too hard for him to assure you—it’s what he should have done. just because he’s used to being the center of dating rumours doesn’t mean you are. just because he knows it’s nothing doesn’t mean you don’t get insecure because of them.

after all, he remembers what he told you that night he asked you to be his. that he’ll make sure you’re happy. being happy all the time isn’t realistic, but at the very least, sae should’ve known better than to keep leaving you alone with your thoughts.

he speeds through the familiar city roads, however fast he’s going just doesn’t seem fast enough. but he still makes it safely back to your shared apartment within twenty minutes, and hopefully still fast enough to make sure you’re not completely disappointed in him.

it’s still raining and the living room lights are still on and he can faintly make out where you’re pacing the room through the blinds. sae feels like a creep staring at you from his car, but his heart’s pounding loudly in his ears and he can’t help but think he’s seen that sleek black car parked next to his somewhere before.

keys out the ignition, rain pattering lightly on his head, he gets out only to meet who he knows has been there for you since day one.

“done running already?” the hostility of your best friend irks him, but he can’t say he didn’t earn it. “that’s faster than i thought.”

“reo.”

your visitor rakes his hand through his purple hair, sighing and rolling his eyes. thanks to sae’s busy schedule, he hasn’t really had time to hang out with any of your friends, and probably hence their usual animosity towards him. though, well, nagi seems to be more indifferent than anything.

“if you’re here to break up with her, don’t worry, i’ll take care of her,” reo tells him, an air of indifference surrounding him. three guesses who you go to whenever you feel upset about your relationship.

sae clenches his fists, reminding himself that reo’s your best friend and punching him would do more harm than good. “i won’t,” is all sae says before he pushes past him, already done with whatever this conversation is.

reo scoffs, “for a guy who loves her, you do a shit job of showing it.”

and although sae shuts the lobby doors right after, reo’s words stay ingrained in his head. it’s not like sae doesn’t know it, but fuck if he knows what to do about it. but when he opens the front door and is greeted by the sight of your red puffy eyes, he forgets everything. forgets the frustration and the anger and the stupid excuses in his head—they’re all secondary when it comes to you anyway.

his feet take him straight to you, pulling you against his chest and holding you tight.

“i’m sorry,” he says, and that’s the easiest it’s ever come out.

from your lack of response, sae finds himself hoping for the best, hoping that he didn’t just lose you because of his stupid impulses. but then he feels your arms wrap around his waist and he hears himself breathing a sigh of relief.

“you’re an ass, you know that?” you sniffle, and it’s kind of hard to breathe when he’s pressing against you that much but you’re more relieved than anything that you don’t really care.

sae chuckles, weakly, the tension leaving his shoulders. “i know.” he can feel you pouting without even having to look at you.

“i should really leave you,” you whine, though your actions betray your words, holding him even tighter.

“then why do you put up with me?” it’s a funny thing, how he can be afraid to lose you yet he can tell that you’re not someone who gives up so easily.

that’s exactly why he has to prove that you didn’t choose the wrong person to be with.

“i guess i’m just stupid too.”

you’re not. sae’s going to make sure no one else thinks you’re stupid for staying with him. it’s enough having your best friend think that, but that’s fine, sae’ll prove him wrong soon enough. it sucks that he’s only good for soccer, but at the rate you’re going? you’ll teach him how to be a good boyfriend. he’s two years in and learning slowly but he’ll get there.

you’re the only one who can get him there.

“no,” sae says, all of a sudden, and you pull away, confused.

“no what?”

“what you asked earlier… it isn’t too hard. i’ll work on it.”

oh, must be right before he left, when you’d asked if it was hard for him to just assure you sometimes. to be honest, you didn’t think he’d even listened. but sae is sae and he’s stubborn and stupid and a little bit of an ass, but he still listens to everything you say.

you try not to break out into a smile—you don’t want to show him how whipped you really are. “i’ll hold you to your word, then.”

sae smiles, ruffling the top of your head before slowly pulling you in again. “so… don’t leave me, okay?”

it sinks in what he’s saying. you didn’t think you’d ever hear sae say those kinds of words. but it’s unfair, really, because how can you say no when he’s like this?

“you already know i won’t.”

and somehow, you’re right. sae knows you won’t. doesn’t mean he’ll get caught lacking though.

“good then.”

because he plans on keeping you forever.

[baby-tini]

do you have a part 2 of where Mikey is cheating?

I do now ❤️

TW- Yandere-ish behaviour, a bit of victim blaming, implied murder, slightly detailed scene of murder, violent behaviour, implication of past cheating.

Mikey was a mess ever since you left, he knows he brought it on himself by cheating, but he was still angry. He missed you deeply, thought about you every night and everyday, you were his first thought when he woke up, and his first thought when he went to bed. You were- are his everything, in his head, you're still his, and nothing is ever gonna change that- nothing. You guys are just... on a little break, that's all. You didn't actually wanna leave, you didn't actually mean it when you said, you never wanted too see him again... right? You couldn't possibly mean that, after all you guys have been through together? You can't be serious, there's no way. So he let you have your little break, even if your absence clawed at him every minute of everyday, but when you didn't... it all kinda went down hill from there, even more so then normal.

It took awhile for him too track you down, longer then he was comfortable with or even, willing too admit. You're everything to him, the reason he even still gets up in the mornings, so, when you left his life,it affected him more then everything else ever has. He was so irritated, taking it out on traitors, torching them slowly as he deflected his emotional pain into physical on the people who have done him wrong. When he finally found you though, or, rather his men found you, his heart started too hurt. He's never been so happy in his life, having heard the news of your exact whereabouts, it pleased him greatly, his eyes even have a little bit of life back in them. He found you living in a tiny little apartment on the outskirts of Tokyo, it was quiet- peaceful even, something his lifestyle greatly lacked.

He contemplated whether or not too just knock on the door... or just break in. But, he ultimately decided too just knock for now and if that didn't work for him, he'd have no problem forcing his way in. You were glowing when you opened that door, looking content- happy even, but the way your smile dropped and the look of delight turned to dread, it hurt, it hurt him so fucking much to the point he almost toppled over. But he held it together, his eyes almost pleading as he whispered your name, it almost sounding foreign with how long it's lacked coming from his lips. But it felt re-freshing on his tongue, like a shred of hope as you stepped aside and let him in. Although hesitant, as your steps lacked genuine want, looking more forced, knowing who exactly this man was and what he was capable of.

It was quiet for a while, as you both sat on your couch, the silence feeling awkward and heavy as you tried your best too avoid eye contact with him. The action feeling too intimate knowing what he did and the way you left, it might've not been the best decision or the best way too leave, but you didn't really have any other option, knowing it would, most likely, start a big fight that you really didn't feel like dealing with at the time. Or the worse option, he didn't care at all and would just let you leave, that would've hurt a lot more then just leaving it up in the air, but with him being here, you were betting on the former being the more obvious situation if you were too have confront him and try too leave at the time, also taking into account that Mikey isn't the most stable, and that would've most likely pushed him off the deep end and would've led to worse consequences for you then just being homeless for a while before you were able too get a shitty job as a waitress and live in a tiny apartment.

"I'm... sorry for what I did.." were the first words he chose too spoke, the first words you've heard from him in months. You knew he was sorry, his presence at the apartment told you all you needed too know, but you also knew that you didn't have too forgive him for what he did to you, you put up with a lot of his bullshit, let him get in your face and call you ugly names or let him get violent with men when they, very stupidly, thought it would be okay too eye-fuck their bosses girl. Watched him beat a man within an inch of his life as soon as his disgusting hands layed a slap to your ass, with a nasty smirk, you've never seen Mikey move so fast in your life, a kick to the man stomach as he beat him bloody, black and blue. Having replayed the mans screams in your head as begged and pleaded with Mikey too not kill him, that he was sorry, you know the man wasn't sorry for what he had done, only sorry that the consequences were so dire for him. That was the first and only time you've watched Mikey kill a man, he kept you locked away for weeks- months after that... incident.

You decided too keep quiet, which was a big mistake on your part cause it only made Mikey inch closer to you on the already small couch. His hands grabbing at your shaky ones, pulling them up to his lips as he left the softest kisses on the backs of them with the whisper of, "let me make it up to you, please?" You wanted him too, you really did, you missed when he was soft with you, although very rarely, he still was willing too show vulnerability. Your head was already clouded not having fully processed the whole infidelity on his part, but you did miss him and with his appearance at your apartment causing a wave of emotion too bubble in your chest and tear ducts, you did, you let him take care of you again. Just hoping and praying that you wouldn't regret everything when your head was a little bit clearer and your arms weren't wanting too constantly reach out and hug him, when your heart wasn't constantly begging you too let him touch you again, too take you again and have you so vulnerable under him as he whispered, hopefully, long-lasting promises in your ear.

So you did, you let him lay your back on that rough, uncomfortable couch as he left kisses on your face, leading down your neck and turning into love marks. Leaving spit-covered kisses down your chest as he hiked your leg over his waist, kissing underneath your ear as he whispered just how sorry he was to you, promising he'd never he look at another woman again, that what he did was a one-time stupid mistake. Whispering about, how it took him losing you too realise just how perfect you were, how rare you were too continuously stay by his side, too pledge your loyalty to such a bad man, such as his self- a monster. To a man who has taken more then he has ever given in his entire life, he knows that you're special, special to him, but just special in general. Letting him have- letting him take you in a place you now called home, knowing what he's done, he was selfish, he knows that, but he's done with it, now that he has you back in his arms, he's never letting you go again. Over his dead body- or, more like the dead body of the woman he had sex with, that led you both to this moment, no more.

[cvldbones]

crawling back to you (langdon x mel)

She sounds happy, a little breathless, and Frank feels himself smiling before he can really stop himself. Not that he’s trying that hard. “Can I help you?” he asks, sardonic, and his grin stretches when Mel just laughs in that full-bellied way he so rarely gets to hear. “I told them you’d pick up,” she repeats, and he laughs at the triumph in her tone.

Since getting sober, Frank feels a little like he’s living life for the first time, as if that month he spent shaking and sweating through his detox unspooled some of his other mental faculties, too. Before the ink had even dried on his divorce papers, he put the deposit down for this shitty two-bedroom apartment ten minutes from the hospital, and he realized while standing in the middle of the empty kitchen that he hasn’t lived by himself since he was nineteen and his roommate moved out halfway through the semester, leaving him alone in their tiny dorm.

Socializing is so much more difficult now, too. It’s ten p.m. and he’s sitting on the beaten-up couch he scrounged from Facebook Marketplace, feet propped on a rickety stack of old medical journals he’s never been able to throw out. The Sixers game is on, and he’s watching in an absent, detached sort of way. Before, he might have been drinking a beer while he watched, or sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Robby while eating peanuts and heckling the players, or just spending time with Abby talking about something other than medicine or the kids.

Probably not the last thing, though. It was one of the many (valid) complaints she’d levied against him, in the end.

Now, of course, none of those are even options. Alcohol had never been his problem, but addiction is a slippery slope, as his therapist likes to remind him. He can’t even imagine how he would begin a conversation with Robby that didn’t feel like they were both trapped in an HR seminar, and Abby, well. It is perhaps damning in more ways than one that he doesn’t really wish that were still on the table.

He checks the phone in his lap again, huffing in irritation at himself when there are still no new messages.

Mel is out with their coworkers – girls’ night! she’d said, enthusiasm painted across her face, when she’d reminded him this afternoon – and he is trying and failing to not think about what they’re doing, what they’re talking about. His relationship with Mel is fraught in a different way from everyone else. She’s nonjudgemental almost to a fault, and she'd welcomed him back without inquisition, her genuine joy at working with and talking to and knowing him so profoundly relieving he’s been biting his tongue to keep from thanking her too often.  

He had been attracted to her that first day almost passively. She was smart and interesting and kind, an open book where he was a firmly locked box, and it had been refreshing. There had been a gravitational pull he’d been able to blame on his general tendency to repress the hell out of stressful situations; she was easy, in a way that Santos and Robby and that whole mess was, decidedly, not. Like a dozen benzos straight to his psyche.

But then she’d visited in rehab, a bad day, by all accounts – he was on day eighteen of withdrawals, and the sobbing had given way to anger, pure and volatile – but she kept coming back, and then she stuck by him, those first few weeks, hovering in a way that didn’t feel passive aggressive in the way Robby was, and then he’d started giving her rides to work, when he saw her walking to the bus stop one morning, and then they’d started spending a few nights a week together, building furniture for his apartment or watching a movie with Becca, and then she started crashing on his couch whenever Becca stayed at the center, because she hated being alone in her place, and –

And suddenly, without really looking, he’d gone and fallen in love with her.

It’s a wildly, horribly selfish impulse, he’s sure. She is unequivocally his best friend – he has spare clothes at her place and she has a key to his and he can count on both hands the number of days in the last year they’ve gone without seeing each other – but she is also Mel, good in a way that is almost distressing in its sincerity. They aren’t opposite ends of a spectrum, because she is operating on a plane so far removed from his own that he can’t reach it. He loves her in a way that is uncomplicated, straightforward, true, and that means he can’t risk sucking her into his orbit of chaos.

It doesn’t stop him from wanting, though. He’s not an idiot, but he’s not a saint, either.

Read on AO3!

[mylonelylittlestar]

My little star

Characters: Xavier Summary: random relationship headcanons with Xavier Warnings: None A/N: I've completely fallen in love with Love and Deepspace, especially with Xavier. It's truly hopeless

the type of boyfriend to get you matching pyjamas

he gets you so many that they slowly start to replace all of your own

likes to match with you even if you don't live together, so sometimes he just texts you to ask which pyjamas you're wearing so he can change into the matching one after he showered

if you ever gift him slippers, blankets, or pillows, he will keep them forever (even if it's something goofy like those big fluffy bunny slippers)

the best person to ask for good midnight snacks. He can recommend fantastic instant noodles, chips, crackers, or other snacks that are light and won't give you stomach aches late at night or negatively impact your sleep in any other way

very interested in your skincare routine (if you have one) and will try out any mask or cream that you give him

if you come up with a routine for him (a simple one, maybe, like the basic cleanser > toner > moisturizer), he will follow it diligently, dragging himself out of bed before he sleeps every day to do it because you were the one to pick those products for him and he doesn't want to waste that

he feels like it connects you to him, even if your routine is completely different and a bit more complicated

never cries during movies, no matter how sad they might be, but he does (on very rare occasions) get a bit teary-eyed

he will hold you if you cry during a movie, and he would never even think about making fun of you for it

he does secretly think that it's cute that you get so worked up about a movie

can sleep through anything. a bomb could go off in his house and he wouldn't know that it happened until he woke up

has seen every single episode of any shitty sitcom you can think of at least three times because he occasionally watches them while he sleeps

sometimes he quotes them but because he knows each of these shows so well now he always quotes the lesser known scenes and no one gets what he's talking about

you start to understand his references after a while, so sometimes he will quote some obscure scene from a super unpopular sitcom that got cancelled after one season and you're the only one laughing

secretly sneaks to the arcade sometimes to practice the claw machine game because he wants to get you the plushies you don't have yet (and to impress you)

he ends up getting dozens of repeats of plushies that you already own. he collects in a small storage room in his apartment that used to be empty

he ends up giving them away when the collection gets out of control, donating them to a children's hospital nearby

gets all shy when you find out about it, blushing bright red like a tomato (or a wasabi octopus)

knows about every single 24 hour store in the city because of his odd sleeping habits and always knows what to do no matter what time it is

you can't sleep and want to go on a date at 3:27 am? he knows a place

if someone is mean to you he will try his hardest to deescalate the situation, but he's also fully willing to fight the person if that doesn't work

I mean have you read his Anecdotes 2? He doesn't give a fuck. He'd prefer not to fight, sure, but if it's unavoidable? What is he gonna do? Not fight and defend you? Ridiculous.

The fandom has already started turning him into this soft uwu stereotype, but the thing is that that's... just not him? He's sweet and kind, yes, but that's not all he is. He's complicated! He has layers!

if he ever falls asleep during a date he would feel awful about it for days, even if you reassure him that it's fine and that you're glad that he feels safe enough around you to fall asleep

he tries to make it up to you with a different date and he falls asleep again, which starts a vicious, endless cycle

when he finally does get over his guilt it's only because you fall asleep during a date after you had a long day at work

knows when you cheat in kitty cards, but sometimes he just lets you get away with it, especially if he knows you had a stressful day at work. He hopes that the win will cheer you up

his good night kisses are forehead kisses while his good morning kisses are on top of your head if you didn't sleep over or on the cheek if you did

[godidontevenknowwhat]

I've got you

MK1!Liu Kang x Reader

A/N: I only got into MK super recently and I've only played MK1 and MK11 so I apologise for what is probably shitty characterisation idk I just really like Liu Kang okay also I didn't reread before posting sorry

Synopsis: You've felt drawn to Lord Liu Kang since you first met him, he's unlike anyone you've ever met even beyond his abilities. You spend a lot of time watching the man you've become so fond of, seeing how kind and gentle he is, how fierce he is when he needs to be. You've seen the look he gets in his when he looks at earthrealm's champions, when he looks at you.. a sort of melancholy look of longing. During one of your routine tea nights you plan to express your feelings to him.

Fic Includes: NSFW so MDNI, nothing particularly intense this is a lot of ✨romance✨, mentions of relationship between Liu Kang and Reader in MK11 timeline but mostly hinted, p in v, some mention of tears on both parts but it's okay because you've got each other 💕 my writing abilities so watch out, possibly ooc Liu Kang idk I made him a little sad , 2.7k

The subtle aroma of freshly brewed tea fills the air as you carefully pour the steaming beverage from Liu Kang’s beautiful decorative teapot into the matching cups. The man himself is busy behind you, you can hear him filling the firepit in the middle of the main room in the fire temple with fresh wood and you can’t help but turn to watch as he ignites the fire with his powers.

With his back to you, you take the time to look him over. His strong body and broad shoulders, his long inky black hair, the fire dancing along the skin of his tattooed forearms as he sets fire to the tinder in the firepit. 

You find yourself admiring the god of fire more often than not, watching the way he moves and interacts with those around him. The way he treats others is something to be admired surely, every person he speaks to is treated like a precious being and you suppose that might be what comes from living for so long and witnessing so many lives pass by him. A profound love for the human existence that he shows through his every action. 

Sometimes there’s something in his eyes though, something forlorn and melancholy that only appears when he looks at earthrealm’s champions or even when he looks at you. It’s like something takes over him, like for a moment he’s not himself.

You take note of his tense shoulders and when he finally turns to face you there’s a furrow in his brow, he looks like the weight of the world is on his shoulders and you have no doubt in your mind that if he was in a situation where he had to, he would try and take that weight.

“Ah, the tea is ready” Liu Kang takes a seat beside him, picking up his cup and blowing on the tea. He sends you a sweet smile over the rim that melts your heart and reminds you of what you wanted to talk to him about during your teatime together. “Thank you”

He sips his tea but you can’t help but notice that there’s no relief from the calming brew. The furrow between his brow disappeared when he looked at you but the tense coil of his body was still wound tight. 

The chill of the evening air contrasts with the heat from the fire warming your back and the soothing burn of the tea coating your tongue as you think about what to say. Is it enough to ask a god ‘are you okay?’? Would that question seem juvenile to someone like him?

“Liu Kang?” He hums a soft sound of acknowledgment, encouraging you to continue. “I just want to ask.. are you feeling alright? You seem to have a lot on your mind..”

You watch as he thinks your words over, 100 emotions and micro expressions flying over his face as he struggles with how to answer your question. He looks in your direction, almost looking through you as you wait for his reply. 

“Do not waste your time filling your head with my problems, there is no need” The smile that he sends you is soft, subtle and yet it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he continues “I would rather keep my burdens to myself instead of weighing you down with them”

“That..” It takes you a second to gather your thoughts as you look at the man in front of you. Eons of life and wisdom. Was he protecting himself by not opening up fully? Surely he’d had friends in his lifetime, ‘had’ being the optimal word. Was he protecting you? Maybe his problems were truly more than you could handle. 

Again you look him over as he sips his tea, the gentle breeze flowing through his long hair and the glow of the fire highlighting his features creating an image so beautiful that it makes your heart hammer in your chest.

“That sounds.. incredibly lonely Lord Liu Kang..”

You watch the fire god lower his cup, a subtle tremor in his hand that makes your heart clench with guilt and your own hand reach out for him.

His glowing eyes drift to your gentle hand on his own and you notice the tension leaving his shoulders with every second he feels your touch.

“I worry what you would think of me if I told you the truth..” His head bows slightly, eyes drifting shut as if he’s scared to look you in yours.

“Nothing you could tell me would make me think of you any differently Liu Kang..” Your voice is soft, quiet and barely louder than the crackle of the fire. Taking a chance you reach for his face with your free hand, his cheek laying so delicately into your palm as if drawn to it with magnetic force. “Because.. I like you very much, just as you are”

Liu Kang takes a shuddering inhale and when he opens his glowing eyes again there’s a thin veil of tears glossing them over. He looks you over like it's the last time, like he’s trying to memorise every detail of your entire being and you have no idea how true it is. How much Liu Kang has waited for you, wanted for you. How many eons he has spent dreaming of you and how terrified he was when he met the ‘new’ you that you’d yearn for another the way he has always yearned for you.

Fearing that his silence is a kind rejection you begin to turn your head to avoid the gaze of his glowing eyes only to be stopped by the feeling of his large, warm palm catching your cheek to hold you in place. 

Before you can think he pushes forward and his plush lips press against yours. It’s embarrassing how quickly you melt into him, your mind going blank at the feeling of being kissed by a God. By Liu Kang. 

Every movement of his gentle lips against yours and every soft, timid caress of his tongue only serves to hypnotise you further. Reaching out for something to grip onto and support you, you end up with a fistful of Liu Kang’s tantalisingly unbuttoned shirt. Your fingers barely brush against the warm skin of his chest but it's enough to make the God's breathing catch and force him to break away from your passionate kiss.

“I apologise.. I shouldn’t have-”

Liu Kang's words die in his throat as you move your gentle palm to the centre of his exposed chest, you can feel his heart racing under your touch. You have so much you want to say, your mind going a million miles per second trying to figure out how any words are good enough to express how you feel for him.

“The only thing you need to apologise for.. is stopping..”

The combination of your teasing words, sweet smile and the feeling of your soft skin against the heated skin of his chest feels so familiar to him. He feels silly for the tears in his eyes, ashamed of the way one escapes and rolls down his cheek when he realises that he really has you, that he doesn’t have to wait any longer and that you really want him in this timeline just as you did in the last.

A smile spreads across his face, one that reaches his eyes this time and softens them so beautifully. He looks younger like this, less troubled by being protector of earthrealm and, unbeknownst to the version of you that now sits before him, the soft smile on his face is the exact one he gave you so many eons before this very moment. The smile of the man that loved you, lost you, feared he would never have you again and now finally knows he will.

Liu Kang smashes his lips to yours in a kiss so impassioned it makes your head spin, expressing everything he can through his kiss. The way his tongue licks into your mouth makes your skin burn hot enough to rival his own and you worry for a moment that the rapid beating of your heart may be loud enough for him to hear.

Gripping onto you like you’re his lifeline, Liu Kang pulls you closer until you settle on his lap as he kisses you passionately enough to make your head spin. You’re delighted to feel the pressure of his grip on you, his fingertips hungrily digging into your soft flesh keeping you exactly where he wants you.

His warm palms caress you, slowly sliding to the fat of your thighs just to encourage you in wrapping your legs around him as he lays you back. Liu Kang settles between your legs, finally pulling from your lips just to press his own against the sensitive skin of your throat. 

You barely register Liu Kang’s gentle voice speaking to you; distracted by the feeling of his lips against your skin, his hands working to remove your clothing and the weight of his impressive, hard cock pressing against you through far too many layers for either of your likings.

An embarrassing whine slips from you uncontrollably as you feel him break contact with you to remove his shirt and, despite your disappointment at the fact his hands and lips are no longer on you, you’re granted the unreal view of tattoos and muscular upper body in all its glory. 

Your hands meet his exposed skin like they’re drawn to it by magnets, fingers exploring the bare expanses of his chest and abs that are always just so teasingly visible with how he regularly wears his shirt.

Large, warm hands circle your wrists to pause your caressing hands and your eyes dart up to meet Liu Kang’s. 

“Tell me.. you want to be with me” Sensing your confusion he gently squeezes your wrists and closes his eyes to hide how they pool with vulnerability. “I need to hear it.. please”

With the final word barely a whisper from his lips you pull free from his grip and embrace the man, the god, in front of you. 

“I want you Liu Kang, I want to be with you”

You press your lips to his cheek.

“I want to be with you in every way I can be”

Emboldened by your words, his hands grip you once again and he wastes no time in baring the both of your bodies to each other between passionate, breathtaking kisses.

Laid on your back once more, your legs lock around Liu Kang’s waist to selfishly pull his hips closer. The feeling of his bare cock brushing against your soaked cunt causing a desperate whine to escape from your throat.

Supporting himself with one arm to hold himself over you he uses his free hand position himself, briefly running the head of his thick cock through your slick and bumping it against your clit before slowly pressing into you.

The moan Liu Kang lets out is sinful, a deep, rich sound that you wish you could hear on repeat for the rest of your days and the flushed expression on his face as he finally sinks the full length of his dick into your pussy is so beautiful you think for a moment that you truly understand what it means to ‘see God’.

“Forgive my impatience.. but believe me when I say I have waited longer than you know to have you like this”

He really did want to take his time with you, feel your pretty pussy clench and gush around his fingers, feel your clit pulse under his tongue as he spends hours between your legs, spend as much time as possible making you fall apart in the best way imaginable but the idea of waiting another second without being as close to you as he possibly could be is pure torture.

Your moans are loud and so unbearably pretty as Liu Kang begins with a few experimental thrusts, the sound of your sweet voice and the wet slap of each slow thrust driving you both further into a lust filled haze. He knows he should wait longer before ramping up the pace and force of his thrusts but the desperation he feels for you along with the feeling of your gentle hands knotting into his hair only encourages him into fucking you the way you both need him to.

Your head drops back into the pillows, each deep thrust sending pleasure coursing through your veins and making your brain go foggy with want. Every punch of Liu Kang’s tip against your g-spot makes your toes curl and your fingernails dig deeper into his muscular shoulders. 

Liu Kang brings you back with a gentle grip on your jaw, angling you to better look him in the eyes while he buries his cock in you. He drops closer to you, encompassing you with his body and pressing his thick cock so deeply it makes you see stars. His heat surrounds you, long hair tickling your face as he presses his forehead to your own. 

There's a burning love in his eyes as he takes in your fucked out expression and Liu Kang thanks whatever power higher than his own that controls fate because he has you in his arms again, in his bed. He has a chance to be yours forever again, to make you his wife, make you a mother and all of the things that he spent so long wishing he had done before this time around.

All of your senses are completely overtaken by him, your mind blank to the world and the only intelligible thing leaving your mouth being the God of fire’s name.

Gentle fingers meet your puffy, sensitive clit and every circle combined with perfectly aimed hits to your g-spot brings you dangerously close to the edge. The pleasure is overwhelming, almost bringing tears to your eyes and forcing you into a pleading babble that only serves to make Liu Kang fuck you with even more purpose.

“I c-can’t!” 

The speed of his fingers on your clit picks up as the clench of your needy cunt draws borderline whines from the god of fire amid his pleasure filled grunts.

“You can, my love..” Your mouth opens in a silent scream, your legs tighten around his waist to the point that he’s reduced to barely thrusting at all but instead grinding his hips into yours giving you an overwhelming pressure against both your clit and your g-spot. 

“You can and you will.”

A strained sob rips from your throat as the God’s words do the job of sending you over the edge. Your vision bursting with stars while your body trembles, overtaken by every jolt of pleasure your orgasm sends through your nerves.

The feeling of your pulsing cunt clenching around him even tighter with your high pushes Liu over the edge with barely enough time to pull from your heat. A gorgeous moan of your name falling from his lips as his hand moves to his cock to stroke himself and prolong his orgasm, each rope of his cum landing on your used pussy and trembling thighs.

There's a comfortable silence between you, no words spoken as he reaches for his discarded shirt to clean you up with. The only sound other than the subtle movements being the crackle of the fire and the gentle pants that you can’t quite get under control so soon.

Spare a final glance at the mess he made of you, a sort of possessiveness and pride rears its ugly head as he cleans you up as tenderly as possible with his shirt. Each pass of the cloth against your skin is done so carefully that it feels as if it barely touches you.

You watch him with a smile on your face that he can’t stop himself from returning. A lovesick, soft smile shared between lovers which remains present even as he settles himself beside you and pulls you into his comfortable embrace.

You can hear the comforting rhythm of his heart as your head rests on his warm chest, your eyes barely able to stay open as you’ve been reduced to a drowsy mess.

“Rest my love, I’ve got you” And he vowed to himself he would never let you go again. In every universe, in every timeline, he’d do everything to make sure it was you and him.

[mudkip-enthusiast18]

Favorite rosekiller headcanons??

aaaaaa I’m so happy about thissss tyyyyy :DD

here’s a bunch of miscellaneous ones I was able to think of over the course of today :3 (in no particular order and a mix of modern and canon compliant and muggle and every au LMAO)

I’ve talked about this before but barty has separation anxiety and can’t sleep without holding/being held by evan

Barty’s love language is physical touch and evan’s is quality time so they’re completely inseparable they’re always together

Barty is always touching evan in some way whether it be a hug, or holding his hand, or an arm around his shoulder or waist, or resting a hand on his arm or cuddling or wtv else

They know each other inside and out and so completely they can have full conversations just looking at each other not talking

they both hate crying in front of other people and do it extremely rarely but when it’s just the 2 of them they start sobbing at literally anything super easily

evan fell first (started crushing on barty all the way back in first year) and barty fell harder (realized all at once one day in sixth year after years of feelings subconsciously piling up and had a mega crash out to dorcas about it)

Their fav dates are when they just sit in bed and cuddle and watch movies and eat snacks and yap about wtv they’re watching cause they’re both massive nerds

evan loves pineapple pizza and barty despises it and refuses to try it on principle (italian) (he’ll never ever admit it but he tried it once and actually thinks it’s the best creation in all of ever) (evan knows this and teases him about it)

They’re disgustingly affectionate and everyone hates them for it /hj

Barty’s name in evan’s phone is “pain in the ass (love of my life 💛)” and evan’s name in barty’s phone is “my angel 🖤”

They have like ten billion matching tattoos/tattoos dedicated to each other <3333

barty calls evan evie, ev, rosie, angel, sweetheart, love, darling, my love, my rose, babe, he hardly ever calls evan by his actual name, only when the topic/situation is very very serious

evan uses bartys name a lot more (and by that I mean barty and not bartemius cause I hc that Barty never EVER uses his full name cause he hates it sm and even gets it legally changed as an adult), but he also call him bee, bat, baby, darling, mon amour

they have a cat w the most outrageously complicated name ever + like 4 reptiles (a ball python, 2 crested geckos and a chameleon methinks (?))

they have a bio daughter (transmasc evan truther here!!! <3) and she’s 2 years younger than luna (and best friends w her)

way way later down the line (when their daughter is 16) they adopt 2 other kids cause barty always had a dream of adopting and/or fostering to get kids out of shitty home life situations like his

(their kids are like fully formed ocs in my brain (except for names cause I suck at naming ocs,,,,,,,) but that’s the base of my happy au family hc for them)

they live in hogsmeade cause barty teaches history of magic at hogwarts (I still can’t decide what Evan does tho probably cause I project so stupidly heavily on to him and I can’t choose a career for myself but shhhhhhhhh)

extremely self-indulgent but evan’s a massive massive Pokémon fan and has been since he was like 9 and into all the aspects (cards, games, manga, anime, etc) whearas barty never was super interested but then evan started convincing him to open packs together and barty got sucked in through the powerful forces of gambling addiction

they’re both super into art (barty likes pottery and any kind of abstraction, evan likes pencil sketching and acrylic landscapes and they both like spraypainting)

I just scrolled back up after writing that last one and holy shit that’s a lot of yapping 💀😭

i like them a super normal amount I promise (could keep going for much much much longer)

I’m gonna end it here TY AGAIN FOR ASKING <3

[crowhoonter]

rating Parahumans guys on how well I think they'd be as parents

Brian: I think Brian would believe he is a great father, but there is too much repressed emotions and depression in there to properly care for and raise a child. 3/10, Not particularly good.

Alec: Alec has lacked a real positive parental unit in his life, and while I don't think he would purposefully be shitty to a kid, I think he might fall back on what he knows from his own youth. Might be a fun older brother though. 3/10, needs to focus on himself first

Danny Hebert: Too sad about his wife dying to properly parent. no further notes. 2/10, Danny please get it together Taylor is relying on you

Armsmaster: Would rub off his worst personality traits onto a kid, resulting in them being the average r/malelivingspace user. Might also encourage child to grow poor facial hair. 1/10, I feel bad for whatever unfortunate soul is consigned to this fate.

Coil: Coil would be an absent father for 90% of your childhood, unless you were useful for his plans. In that case, he would feed you drugs or some other unethical thing and make you work for him (child labor (bad)). 2/10, conditions are poor but you might get to meet some of the other children he has, fixing the playdate situation.

Kaiser: See in story results. -5/10 Nazis don't make good parents.

Uber and Leet: They come as a package deal obviously, and they are actually pretty okay parents, they aren't great obviously but they aren't tremendous failures either. That is until you show up on one of their livestreams and then you are the laughingstock of the school. 4/10 Don't upload your kids online.

Scion: Too sad about his wife dying to properly parent. Also not emotionally available. 1/10, get it together man people are relying on you.

Mark Dallon: Not necessarily a bad parent, but he has a laundry list of problems that he needs to work through before he can begin to think to focus on his kids. 3/10, he's trying by god. He's not doing good but he's trying.

Number Man: He would probably respond to any question his kid asks with some weird philosophical math metaphor. Is a killer cook though. Also math classes would be a breeze. Unfortunately, most of his time is dedicated to cauldron. 5/10, grades will be great.

Accord: The worst type of helicopter parent. He would make itineraries to follow any time his kid went out and would require them home in pristine condition super early. Has a rigorous study schedule and puts a lot of pressure on you to succeed, and you know he wants whats best for you but like its stifling and you aren't really living for you but for him. Sure grades are good but you just can't do it anymore. 4/10, the depression and GPA are soaring.

Jack Slash: As seen in Worm, he is an absolutely killer parent. Has a fun family vibe? check. Engages with his children's interest and allows them to pursue it? check. Keeps his child intellectually and creatively stimulated? check. Takes his family all over the country to see new exciting places and people? check. Dude is simply top tier on the parenting skill. Sure the family dynamic is a bit unorthodox, but when the results look this good can you really argue? 10/10 Jack Slash has got it going on.

[glitter-stained]

Oh I see you also wanted to see Jason abusing benzos after Gotham War. Good taste etc.

Anyway, I've given some thought about how that could end up happening, and... Well, for starters, I think this:

Should have consequences!

Maybe Jason takes more time to push through the fear and rescue the girl, and she ends up in the hospital, or maybe she dies (I'm always advocating for them both to die here, but in this situation, I thinking - she inhales a lot of smoke, has to go to the hospital, stays there in critical condition).

Anyway, Jason wouldn't have started abusing benzos just because of himself, but if affects his vigilantism? If it put other people at risk? Yeah, then he's gonna do it.

Alternatively, maybe he even tries to step back from vigilantism, because his condition is putting more people in risk than he not being there at all, and then ends up in the emergency as a civilian and there he is given alprazolam/diazepam/some other benzodiazepine and it works (somewhat? I won't try to understand how comic book logic for body modifications would interact with real world drugs). So afterwards Jason is like... "Hmmmmm this could make me functional again 👍 interesting" and there you go, that's the beginning of his descent into benzos abuse :/

I was about to say "Jason needs to abuse benzos because with the vicious circle of adrenaline/panic attacks he will die" but then I realised this man has the survival instinct of a lemming so your theory is much better, I do think he would take them to be able to continue vigilantism.

I don't want the little girl to die, not because I don't think you're right, but because it makes me too sad. With that being said, I've been considering some things:

-Jason died (his first death) of smoke inhalation

-PTSD is associated with memory issues regarding the event (not an erasure of the moment so much as distorsions, issues with memories, details remembered wrong or incoherently...) Add to that the fear failsafe and the fact that on top of being a traumatic event, this scene could be triggering to him, and Jason does dissociate sometimes (which in extreme case can be linked to "memory" issues when you're not aware of what's happening, ie because you're trapped in a flashback).

-with the rest of the Gotham War storyline happening, Jason had no opportunity to follow-up and take her to the hospital

Put all of that together in the shaker, and you have the perfect cocktail for a Jason overwhelmed by doubt because he can't remember whether the little girl survived.

And then

AND THEN that's where it gets interesting, because the fun thing about benzos is aside from all the other shitty side-effects those drugs, esp in high quantities, can cause temporary memory loss (kinda like when you get black-out drunk). So I'm picturing a Jason addicted to benzos, horrified at the idea of ending up like his mother but not even chemically capable of feeling afraid of it, always wondering if he failed to save that little girl, and with chunks of missing time... I like to think he'd dissociate more often too, as a reaction to the anxiety on top of that, so there's the horror of having his memory full of holes, feeling like he's living a half-life, not being sure of anything...

And, well. When you find a traumatized young man with such dangerous skills, memory issues, attachment issues and such evident vulnerability... There's a lot of things you can do with a man like that. A lot of things you can make them believe, make them feel, make them think.

[grapehyasynth]

maus what if i was curious to know what drabble you cook up based on the song 'impossible' by shontelle?? 💜

MY BELOVED MAUS!

oh boy did this get ANGSTY! my original idea was canon-compliant, since the playlist is meant to align with canon, but then this bubbled up. sorry to my boys </3

Wille wakes up to a splitting headache and a missed call from Simon. He’s not sure which one is the stronger force in keeping him immobilized in his bed for another half an hour. 

They haven’t talked since the breakup, even though it was mutual and mostly amicable. It just hurts too much. Not like it doesn’t hurt, not talking to him. Everything hurts. 

He puts off calling Simon back. He pushes back the thick curtains, washes his face, brushes the stale alcohol breath off his teeth and tongue. He debates not returning the call at all. People still accidentally butt-dial, don’t they? 

It’s only when he catches himself nibbling at his thumbnail, a habit he’s (mostly) kicked, that he drops onto the chaise longue, drawing his knees up to his chest so he can tug his sweatshirt over his legs. 

“Hej?” he ventures, when the call connects. “What’s up?” 

An indignant little huff of a laugh shivers in his ear. He’s spent the months since their breakup absorbing Simon’s voice through videos and mp3 files, but hearing it just for him is better, worse, everything. “Wille, I get that the situation is shitty, but this is your only warning. Next time I’m blocking you, on all the platforms. I know that sounds harsh, but I just can’t -- I need to not--” 

“Platforms?” On a sudden, vertiginous, half-remembered hunch, Wille puts the call on speakerphone and flips through to see which other apps are still open on his phone. Instagram - open to his direct messages with Simon. Shit. Apparently, at 2AM last night, Wille had sent could you maybe act a little less thrilled to be done with me? or give me half the grammy jfc. thanks so much puss och kram. “Shit. Simon--” 

“My manager wanted to cancel my appearances today. And you know how much she does not believe in days off.” 

“It wasn’t -- I didn’t mean to--” He’s not going to tell Simon it was a joke. Not even the most generous interpretation of text tone would let that message read as a joke. 

He’d been drunk, thoroughly blasted from a friend’s birthday party. He’d gotten back to the royal residence well past midnight, and in an effort to escape the silence of the dark, massive, lonely hallways, he’d wound up on his stomach in his bed, still wearing a suit, watching a seemingly endless parade of Simon’s live performances to promote his new album. The new album that exudes fuck you, that proclaims boy bye, that flaunts Simon’s singlehood and freedom. And the whole world knows Wille was Simon’s last boyfriend. So not only does he have to live without Simon, he has to see him thriving, and he has to read all the strangers on the internet, especially Simon’s superfans, speculating about why they broke up, about how shitty Wille must have been as a boyfriend to make Simon this desperate to move on, about how he never deserved Simon and Simon was probably never happy with him. Wille knows it’s not true - they’d fucking loved each other, neither of them wanted to break up, but it got too hard, the demands of their respective careers and duties threatening to ruin what they had. But alone in this castle, drunk and morose, he’d started to wonder. Hence, the DM. 

“It wasn’t about you,” he offers Simon eventually, dully. “Not really, not like it seemed. It just... fuck, Simon, I know your songs aren’t all autobiographical but it hurts.” 

Simon’s quiet too long, a tense silence Wille remembers, when Simon is nearly vibrating with emotion but trying to breathe his way through it. “You’re right, they’re not all autobiographical. And these songs were written ages ago, before we were together - I didn’t even write all of them myself - they’re not about you, not the - not the ones people think, anyway. And of course I know that it hurts, Wille, god, I - do you think I want to sing about a shitty ex and perform like I’m having the time of my life when I’m so heartbroken I can barely get out of bed?” 

Wille doesn’t know what to say. If they were in person, this is when he would go to Simon, hold him as he cried. 

Wasn’t the breakup supposed to prevent them both from falling apart? 

Simon sniffles. “I’ll try to make it more clear, in my interviews. I’ve tried to steer them away from you but I’ll do better. Is that what you want, Wille? Would that help?” 

“Yes. No. I don’t - I don’t know what I want, Simon,” he admits brokenly. “I just want you.” 

“Wille--” 

“I just want you.”

[shaylogic]

Wishlist for DBDA Season 2:

A proper noir episode that plays off Edwin's fondness for traditional detective stories

Significantly more focus on Niko's character now that the traditional comic trio had season 1 to establish. Exploring her father's afterlife situation, meeting up with her Mom, discovering her own strength and skills (especially if she has supernatural powers after the polar bear figurine)

More of Charles' living backstory and family mystery possibly reflecting the comics

Edwin's living backstory and family, whom we know next to nothing about even in comics

Crystal picking up more tech/hacking skills

Cryland Crystal x Charles relationship dynamics: conflict around her bully side, trauma-bonding and conflict around the different kinds of shitty parents they have (which so far has been something Crystal's been better about with Charles than Edwin has been)

Monty, Jenny, and Cat King all move to London with the squad. Idc how or why. I'll accept any reasoning.

Happy lesbians or other wlws!!! Didn't quite get that in season 1.

More Kashi! What is going on with him? He seems important

An episode where one of the main characters is stuck floating upside down like in the Topsy-Turvey comic, and the others take turns holding their hand like they're a balloon

Squooshing and the Ghost Roads

More worldbuilding of realms (Neitherlands?) and ghost rules/abilities

Crystal resolving buried David of course

Desire of the Endless interaction with the rest of our queer characters (which is basically all of them)

Flashback montage of the silly early cases Edwin & Charles did together in the past that they referenced in season 1

Flashback on how the boys began their Detective Agency: their very first case.

Expand their first meeting in the attic scene to include if they actually spoke to Death, what happened to their bodies, and showing them realizing the school is covering them both up

Return to St. Hilarion's. Put bodies to rest. Burn it to the ground.

Edwin new outfit. Once done with the school visit and flashbacks, he should pick something mature and individual to separate the new him from the death trauma time

Jenny's new role in the agency group now that she's aware and sees ghosts. Bonus points for goth knowledge

Charles crop top for the fans

Charles figuring out his 🤞 bisexuality 🤞 this season much like Edwin worked through his internalized homophobia in season 1. We desperately need meaningfully in depth, genuine, quality bi rep in media and I trust this show with it. (Shout out to Nick Heartstopper though)

Payneland dynamics: still slow-burn figuring out their relationship as friends or more now that the confession is known. By the end of season 2 and Charles bi journey?, relationships start to shift a bit from Cryland to Payneland perhaps... [I love them both honestly]. Just when Edwin is making up his mind to put his crush on Charles aside and start looking for his "adventure of the heart" elsewhere, that's right when Charles starts to get more interested. And we may expect him to get all flirty but he actually gets more nervous and genuine with Edwin.

Monty becomes humanoid again and is learning who he is out on his own. Maybe he gets a job and apartment. Trying to figure out his purpose as an individual instead of familiar.

Cat King has a name, an animated backstory, and a new love interest that sees through his bullshit and keeps him humble

Feel free to add your own wishlist in the reblogs/comments! <3