#she appeared for like 1 scene then fucked right off

[mintaikk]

This Gal

I love this Gal

[cuteniaarts]

Post-recovery Summiya concept sketch :)

[muwapsturniolo]

Brutus 2 🦇 Chris sturniolo

"O-one hun-hundred and fif-fifteen times...." PT 1

NSFW AHEAD!!! mentions of murder, stabbing, assault (not detailed!!!), alcohol, blowjobs/face fucking, facials, cum eating, rough sex, biting, cream pies, choking, switch! Chris, Matt is a perv

The police still couldn’t figure out what happened on the final night of Halloween horror nights. It’s been a month and the gruesome murders were still unsolved and left everyone scratching their head. The police took the right measures, they taped off the crime scene for weeks on end, rewatched the CCTV footage, and questioned the crew and attendees.

But they came up empty-handed.

They couldn’t figure out who committed the crime or why they did it.

But she knew.

When she was questioned, the police showing up at her door with her discarded tweed purse, she lied and said she didn’t see anything. Claimed she barely remembers that night due to the alcohol she consumed on the premises.

She knew it was wrong to lie to authority, to take away the possibility of a grieving family to finally have peace and to know the killer is behind bars. She knew if anyone found out what she did they would call her insane and probably throw her six feet under a jail - She didn’t want that.

She was lying to cover her own ass and the nameless killers, and she’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Especially if it meant they would continue watching her.

It was only a couple of days after that night when she felt as if she was being watched. She had just gotten out of the shower and walked into her bedroom to put on her pajamas when she noticed the clothes were on the floor.

That isn't where she left them.

She vividly remembered placing them neatly at the foot of her bed, folded and ready to throw on. Now they were thrown onto the floor in a mess, and her panties were missing.

Fear should have settled into her body, but instead, she proceeded to get dressed right in front of the open window.

With that being said, she went about her life as if nothing happened, as if she wasn't being stalked by two psychopaths.

Her routine never changed.

Weeks had gone by, minutes, hours - two months to be exact. She had given up the little bit of hope that those two would make an appearance. Honestly, she had forgotten about them until a Christmas party had gone wrong.

Her friends had forced her to attend, shoving her into a powder blue satin dress and a pair of silver heels to match. soon, she was at the party, standing in the corner with a frown on her face.

She wasn't having a good time. Her friends had ditched her as soon as they made it to the club, this guy who was completely wasted wouldn't leave her alone, and she was hot.

Deciding that she was over it and needed some air, she found her friends and told them she was leaving. She walked away, ignoring their drunken protests, and pulled out her phone, attempting to order an Uber.

It seemed like she didn't have any luck, the cellular device having no type of signal. With a huff she begins walking down the street, not noticing the two people following her.

"This is so stupid! This is the last time I let them drag me to a dumb party an-" A small scream escapes her mouth as she's pushed into an alley, her phone falling from her hands. Her body collides with a trash can, preventing her from falling into the muddy puddles of water from the melted snow.

She's soon shoved against the wall, the streetlamps casting a shadow over her attacker's face. She didn't need lights to know who the person was, the rancid smell of alcohol was enough.

It was the same man from the party, he had followed her out.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Get off of me!" She shouts in annoyance, trying to push him off. It was odd, the way she was completely sober and had better coordination should have given her the strength to push him away. But to no avail, he proceeded to force himself upon her, slurring his words in the process.

Just as his hand goes up her dress, he's yanked away and tackled to the ground, her savior immediately throwing punches.

She stays frozen against the wall, too shocked to even register what's happening.

A glimmer of light snaps her back into reality.

She watches as her savior raises his arm, a knife in hand.

She watches as the blade is plunged into her attacker's chest, his screams slowly drowning out as he chokes on his own blood. She watches her savior continuously bring the knife down, not stopping until he's satisfied.

His actions begin to slow, his breathing heavy as he slumps back, staring at the lifeless body underneath him.

She takes a hesitant step forward, freezing when her savior turns to her.

She already knew, but the mask adorning his face confirmed it.

Her savior was the same man from that night, the same masked man who was ready to kill her before being scared away by his partner in crime.

His wild and deranged eyes soften as they connect with hers, his breathing calming down.

They say nothing, the only sound being heard is the flurries of snow rushing past them.

She slowly approaches, holding her hand out before speaking softly, "Come on, let's go."

He looks down at her hand before standing up, towering over her. He points towards her discarded phone, his silence-speaking words. She nods and rushes over to her phone, bending down to grab it. She huffs seeing the cracked screen, cursing out the dead man in her head. Just as she begins to wipe the phone off, she hears a loud bang.

She whips around and sees both the masked savior and the dead body gone, her brows slowly creasing.

Where did they go? How did they disappear so quick?

Her thoughts are interrupted by a hand landing on her shoulder. She jumps in surprise and turns around to see the masked savior in front of her.

"Jesus Christ, " she covers her chest as her heart begins to beat quickly. She swears she heard him snicker softly, but before she could question him, he wrapped his hand around her arm and dragged her down the street.

In reality, she knows she should be scared and questioning him, but she stays silent, allowing him to guide her to wherever they are going. They soon arrive in front of a beat-up pickup truck, parts of the car rusting as snow sits in the bed.

He opens the passenger door and looks at her expectantly. She peers inside the truck, noticing the mess inside. The cans of Pepsi discarded on the floor, the wrappers from candy, the smell of cigarettes, and most importantly,

The small bloodstains on the seats.

She looks back at him, noticing the soft look in his eyes.

"You want me to get in?"

He nods, still refusing to speak.

"Are you taking me home?"

He nods once more.

"Do you know where I live?"

He tenses, the grip he has on her arm tightening. It's almost as if he's scared, scared of being caught for stalking. Scared she's going to scream, run away, reject him.

She snickers softly seeing the fear in his eyes, it's a bit ironic.

She says nothing, simply climbing into the truck and buckling herself in.

"Come on, I miss my bed."

With that, he closes the door and climbs into the car himself, quickly starting the engine and driving off. She watches silently as he drives down familiar streets, having driven down them herself whenever she's on her way home.

The car ride was filled with silence, it wasn't tense if anything, it was calming, the both of them relaxed.

They soon arrive and he kills the engine, staring straight ahead out the window. She turns to him, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face behind the mask.

"Thank you for helping me," she says softly. He gives a curt nod, his hands still placed on the wheel.

"Did you want to come in?" His head whips to her, his eyes holding confusion. She smirks, enjoying the hesitancy and confusion in his eyes.

" Come on, you've been inside anyway. Might as well come in with an invitation this time."

He huffs behind the mask but follows her actions in unbuckling the seat belt and climbing out of the car.

They walk inside the house, the girl kicking off the annoying heels and throwing her keys in the bowl on the stand. She walks to her bedroom, smiling to herself as she hears his sluggish footsteps behind her. She throws herself onto her bed, flipping onto her back and propping herself up with her elbows.

She looks him up and down curiously, attempting to familiarize herself with him again.

"How come you wear a mask?"

Like always, he says nothing, refusing to even glance in her direction. She pushes herself off the bed and approaches him, cornering him. No words are spoken between the two as she presses herself against him, his breathing speeding up. With a slow and steady hand, she trails it up his arm, her fingers soon fanning out against his chest.

She goes to touch the edge of the mask, but she's stopped by his hand firmly grasping her wrist.

He looks scared.

Despite the tight grip he has on her, she continues with her actions. Her fingers grip the edge of the mask, slowly pulling it off of his face.

He quickly turns his head, his hair falling in front of his face. She gently turns him back towards her, their eyes connecting as her fingers dance across the scar on his cheek.

"O-one hun-hundred and fif-fifteen times...."

A shocked expression makes its way onto her face. He spoke, he finally spoke, and the first thing he decided to say was a number.

"W-what?" She questions in confusion, raking her brain for what the number could mean.

"Th-the man....I sta-stabbed him one hun-dred and f-fifteen times."

She's shocked by the confession.

She didn't know a lot about murder, only having seen it and heard about it in movies and TV shows, but she knew it took a lot of energy and anger to stab someone that amount of times - He did it for her.

It was sick, it was twisted, and yet, it attracted her.

"Let me thank you," she mumbles, her hand leaving his face and trailing down his chest, soon finding its place over his crotch. She begins to palm him, watching his breathing grow harsh, their eyes still connected. A small whimper leaves his mouth, and she breaks out into a grin - his moans were so pretty, so soft,

Submissive.

She sinks to her knees, both of her hands working at his belt, soon throwing it to the floor. Her mouth waters as she pulls his pants down, his cock slapping his abdomen.

It was pretty, just like him.

It was long and thick, and had a bright red tip that matched his chapped lips. There was a vein running up the side that she knew would feel euphoric when sliding against her spongy walls.

He bucks his hips softly as she wraps her hand around his shaft, pulling it towards her mouth. She opens her mouth and allows a wad of spit to trickle out, landing directly on his tip. Her thumb swipes over the tip as she moves the spit around, starting to jerk him off.

His moans and whimpers are kitten-like, despite his horrific and brutal demeanor, he was like putty in her hands.

She enjoys the way his body relaxes against the door, his head thrown back and his mouth open as he pants softly. She kitten licks his tip before taking him fully in her mouth. His rough and calloused hands fly to her head, grabbing the strands of hair and forcing her to take him deeper.

She gags around him, tears forming in her eyes as she opens her mouth wider, but she keeps going. She bobs her head up and down, making sure to hum and fondle his balls in the process.

His moans and groans grow louder, and his actions become more dominant. It was like a switch was flipped in his head, his hips starting to slam against her face.

He shows no mercy as he fucks her face, his dick reaching so far down her throat and giving her no chance to breathe. Her actions of gratitude had quickly become sloppy, the mixture of spit and precum coating her chin and falling down to her chest.

There were even bubbles of the mixture forming, popping every time her nose hit his happy trail.

She manages to look up at him, her mascara tears and glossy eyes making her look so damaged yet innocent - It drives him over the edge.

He quickly pulls out of her mouth and releases all over her face, enjoying the way she gasps in shock.

It's like his body is on autopilot, nothing but excitement and adrenaline controlling his actions. His hand wraps around her throat, lifting her to her feet with ease. Their lips instantly mesh together, swapping spit as they hastily make out. She moans into the kiss as he tightens his grip on her throat, the wetness in her panties only growing. She could feel the sticky fluid in between her folds every time she clenched her thighs - She was aching for him to touch her.

He suddenly pulls away from the kiss and begins to lick his own semen off of her face, his eyes rolling back. She moaned at his erotic actions, the way his soft and spongy muscle glided over her cheek. She could smell the faint mixture of cigarettes on his breath, but she found herself not caring.

Suddenly, she's pushed away from him, her body colliding with the mattress. It all happens so quick, the way her powder blue dress is ripped into pieces, her soaked panties following.

He was like a rabid, feral dog, ready to take what he wanted and she was just as excited.

Her jaw drops and her back arches as he shoves his length inside of her, reaching to the deepest hilt. Much like his partner in crime, he stretched her out perfectly, her aching walls sucking him in and not letting him go. The bedframe bangs against the wall with each ferocious thrust, items falling off her nightstand due to the shaking.

He shoves his face into the crevice of her neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin. He proceeds with his actions, the marking of his teeth covering her whole chest along with her breasts - Blood is drawn in certain areas.

It's an overwhelming amount of pleasure, so overwhelming that she can't even keep her eyes open nor hold him. Her arms lay flat by her head, her eyes clenched shut as her mouth remains open.

Her eyes fly open when her head whips to the side, the same hand that slapped her wrapping around her throat, squeezing tightly.

He's heaving like a dog, his pants mixed with groans, making him sound like a beast.

She weakly grabbed at his wrist, trying to ease the pressure on her throat, but it was no use. She had become lightheaded from the pleasure and lack of air.

She was close to passing out, but she was also close to reaching her orgasm, it was just a matter of which one she would experience first.

"You're going to kill her, ease up on the choking."

Her blurry eyes dart to the bedroom door, a choked gurgle escaping her mouth when she sees him.

He was here, the one with the painted face. Except, his face wasn't painted, and he was watching her be fucked by his partner.

She gasped for air when he released her throat, her eyes still trained on the other one. She watches as he takes a seat at her vanity, leaning back on the chair and manspreading.

"Don't look at me, look at him. He's the one fucking you."

She does as told, her eyes connecting with the man on top of her. He had the same look in his eyes from that night when he chased after the girl trying to run away.

"Tell him how good he's making you feel, he loves the praise,"

"S-so good- Nghh. Fuck- " She could barely speak a full sentence, her speech slurred.

"That's all you can do? Come on dollface, he killed someone for you! Show him how grateful you are! He finally gets to feel you after watching me fuck you, give him the experience he deserves."

Her mind is reeling, incoherent babbles of praise falling from her lips. The more she praises him, the harder his thrust become, her sobs of pleasure getting louder.

It's not long before she felt that familiar coil in her stomach forming, ready to burst at any second - and all it took was one final thrust from the man on top of her to push her over the edge.

Her whole body shakes violently, her eyes rolling back as she feels the static rush through her body. Her ears were ringing, her vision blurry as she came down from her high.

She lays there shaking, her fingers twitching as she pants harshly. She was worn out, fucked, and tired.

Suddenly, he stands up from the vanity and slams his hand down on Chris's back, "Look at her....and I thought I wore her out." They both look down at her, trying to figure out what to do next.

Matt suddenly bends down and moves her hair out of her face, grabbing her chin softly.

"Wake up doll, your night has just started."

[starkwlkr]

just a girl | f1

an: this is me asking for your letterboxd pls i need letterboxd mutuals 🤭 my account is deadpunks also made the reader have glasses because we need more glasses representation in fanfics 😔 (to the girlies that wear glasses, this is for you!!!)

Las Vegas Grand Prix Weekend

“What movie did I watch?” Y/n read the comment that a fan left on her instagram live. She adjusted her glasses and smiled. “I just finished ‘Drop Dead Gorgeous’ it’s so underrated. The cast is so iconic like you have Kirsten Dunst, Brittany Murphy, Denise Richards, Amy Adams and Allison Janney in one movie. It’s definitely in my top four.”

It was hours after qualifying and Y/n was exhausted, but all she wanted to do was finish watching her movie. Unfortunately for her, the movie she had just named wasn’t anywhere on streaming so she brought her portable dvd player and a stack of dvds. When Lando saw her watching a movie and crocheting a scarf for herself in her garage, he laughed at the scene. He actually found it adorable.

“What’s my letterboxd? Okay, listen. . . I don’t give it out to just anyone so this is between you lovely people and me, okay? My letterboxd is ilovecillianmurphy420 and please follow me, I am desperate,” Y/n laughed. She then took her phone and saw all the new follower notifications from letterboxd. “I’m going to ask the social media admin to ask everyone on the grid for their four favorites. Lando is definitely going to name animated movies. That or he’ll forget what a movie is and say nothing.”

What’s your four favorites?

“Whoever your asked for my four favorites, I’m blocking you. How dare you ask me that question . . . Paddington 1 and 2, Saw and Mamma Mia. I know I said drop dead gorgeous was in my top four, but I lie all the time.”

The next day, her letterboxd account had become the second most followed account.

INSTAGRAM

liked by oscarpiastri, letterboxd and others

yourusername just watched the masterpiece that is jackass number two

formulaupdating can i ask why you don’t post about f1 that often?

yourusername no you may not

oscarpiastri i was there too

yourusername ok

landonorris didn’t you watch that last week?

yourusername this is my own private domicile and i will not be harassed

landonorris ?

yourusername bitch

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After The Race / Interviews

Y/n hated being interviewed, it was the absolute worst thing on earth. No wait, forgetting her AirPods was the worst thing, but interviews were right behind that. She was exhausted and now she had to deal with reporters asking her what she thought about the championship battle.

Her fingers brushed the strap of her cap nervously as the interviewer’s voice cut through her anxiety.

“Y/n, P7 today—solid result. How are you feeling?" The reporter asked.

Y/n blinked, her eyes flicking around as she tried to process the question, and then her gaze landed on her own shoes. She cleared her throat awkwardly, looking up only to meet the camera for a brief, uncomfortable moment.

“Uh, yeah. It, uh . . . it was. . . good. I mean . . . yeah, I’m happy with it, I guess," she mumbled, her voice faltering.

The reporter smiled kindly, already used to the shy responses. “What do you think made the difference here in Vegas?" He waited patiently for Y/n’s answer.

Y/n’s lips parted as she prepared an answer, but the words tangled up in her brain. She shifted from foot to foot, adjusting her grip on the cap. Fuck, why can’t you think of anything?!, she thought to herself. “Uh . . . I don’t know . . . it’s just . . . uh, a little . . . weird, with all the lights and, you know, the . . . Strip, and, um . . .” Her voice trailed off.

The interviewer gave her a soft chuckle, understanding that Y/n’s awkwardness wasn’t lack of confidence, but rather a product of her introverted nature. Before the interview could go on, two figures appeared behind Y/n.

Oscar had cut in, Y/n’s pair of glasses in his hand. He placed a hand on her shoulder and handed the glasses to her while Lando ruffled her hair. She happily accepted them and placed them on her face.

“Alright, alright,” he said with a grin, his voice gentle but firm. “You’ve tortured her enough, mate.”

Y/n let out a relieved sigh as she turned to Oscar, who gave her a small, reassuring smile. “You’re doing great, really,” he said quietly, his tone meant to ease her nerves.

Lando then spoke up. “Are we done with the interrogation? She's literally about to disappear into her own head if we keep this up."

The reporter chuckled. “I was just asking Y/n about her performance today.”

Y/n hadn’t even noticed that she had completely abandoned the interview. She had started doodling on Oscar’s hand. The Aussie had given her the pen he had used from a fan when he was signing autographs. It was their thing. Whenever she would get nervous and Oscar was around, he would let her draw on his hand. Somehow the hand doodles calmed her.

“Right, Y/n?”

That’s when she picked up her head and noticed Lando was staring at her. “Sorry, what?”

“The race,” Lando reminded her. “She was brilliant out there. Absolutely nailed it.” Y/n didn’t have the words to argue. Instead, she ducked her head, feeling both embarrassed and grateful.

The three drivers said their goodbye to the reporter and walked away. Lando threw an arm over Y/n’s shoulder, grinning. “You know, for someone who hates interviews, you’ve got a hell of a lot to say . . . just not when it’s on camera.”

Y/n’s lips twitched into a small smile, and she felt a brief wave of gratitude for her friends’ protective camaraderie. She glanced at Oscar, who gave her a knowing nod, his usual quiet confidence offering her a sense of calm.

“You guys are unbelievable.” Y/n laughed lightly.

“Yeah well you’re the idiot who’s going to have to deal with us.” Lando replied.

“Unfortunately.” She teased.

“The idiot with the crocheting skills and silly little film reviews that are very popular on the box app.” Lando added.

“What?” Y/n stopped walking and stared at Lando. She looked over at Oscar for an answer, but the Aussie just shrugged his shoulders.

“I do believe our dear Y/n wants a hot priest?” Lando teased, bringing up Y/n’s lastest letterboxd review about Fleabag. “That’s a bit scandalous, don’t you think?”

“Hot priest?” Oscar couldn’t believe Lando had just said those two words together.

“You two don’t get it! Come on, we’re watching Fleabag!”

[wlwmedarda]

I'm honestly just looking to rant and this might be long depending on how fast I get irritated the more I type so if this isn't coherent or well written I apologize in advance. Since it looks like Ambessa will take on a more antagonistic role in arcane season two, I would like to unpack the fandom's antiblackness that you guys are either blind to or aware and too pussy to call it out as my gut is telling me it's gonna increase and if no one is gonna start the difficult conversation then I sure as hell will.

Sevika:

Mel:

Starting off strong with the definition of "you guys want complex female characters but can't even handle her". Mel Medarda is in quite the predicament seeing how she's morally grey, a black woman, AND "gets in the way" of a mlm ship so she was kinda screwed from the start. A cunning politician disowned for her pacifism who acts as a sort of bridge to Noxus' slow introduction, and is THE ONLY CHARACTER IN THE SEASON 1 MAIN CAST SPECIFICALLY CREATED FOR THE SHOW. She's treated like satan incarnate or a Jezebel (highly suggest looking into that if you don't know what that is), GOOD character analysis is rare, and when she is talked about positively, it's so often chalked up to appearances that I'd rather yall not talk about her at all. Oh you love Mel? Then can we talk about her relationship with her mother? Unpack her dynamic with Jayce? Maybe more fanworks centered around her? I've seen yall's fake asses dropping the shittiest fucking takes about her only to turn around and gush over how pretty she is, and yall think you're slick about it and you're not. I would say I prefer the ones who are loud and proud about their hatred but that'd be a lie, they're two cheeks on the same ass; annoying and couldn't give a decent break down of her character if a gun was pointed at they head even she's perfect to dissect. I could talk about her more but we'd be here all day and so many black women even from outside the fanbase have already talked about yall so there's no need for me to add on 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️.

Quick question, have you guys ever tried to talk about her in a non sexual way? Yes, Sevika is undeniably sexy and you could argue that true stans of hers talk about her outside of horny time, but a good half of the fandom is a different story. In a similar case to Mel's, deep dives into her character are rare to find which is crazy when she acts as Zaun's own "kingmaker". She's loyal to her city and the cause, never to a specific person and will not hesitate to betray you. She could be your right hand man one day, and the next she might find a better kingpin to follow and stab you in the back like it all meant nothing. "Were you tempted?" "Not for a worm like him". Simple and subtle and probably my favorite Sevika scene; she comes to realize Silco is no longer the best leader for Zaun, but he's as good as it gets for now and so she sticks by him. I remember a YouTube comment breaking down how she's essentially the quintessential Zaun: a brute warrior molded by her environment, who defied Vander's peaceful ways and embraced Silco's cruelty. Her mindset and goal is interesting and you'd think it'd result in some fascinating meta or exploration of her upbringing when we got a hint that she potentially has some daddy issues right? Obviously, but what do we get instead? White sapphics treating her like nothing more than a sexual object. How delightful!

Ekko:

This might partially be Riot's fault because — and I hate to sound like a league lore nerd — Ekko is quite underdeveloped compared to the richer origins of his former pre arcane self, but I'm gonna hold off on that till the season finale to see how they handle him. Anyways, at this point the fandom clearly sees him as Jinx's trophy husband. When you talk about him, she is brought into the convo 90% of the time. That's exactly why I prefer black timebomb shippers over the nonblack ones because I trust they actually love Ekko as a character on his own. Even though I have my complaints regarding how's been written so far, I still know he's too good to be reduced to Jinx's loverboy. He fights and cares for his city, the only character that you can confidently say is pure of heart, and is the revolutionary leader Zaun really needs. He's just as smart as Jinx too, he is literally going to create TIME TRAVEL. Why does no one wanna talk about that? Can we be excited for his character development and arc not just for the timebomb scenes you'll get out of it?

Ambessa:

Can't even deny this woman is awful but her presence on screen enthralled me after a couple of rewatches and I also love bad mothers in media so I've settled on a love/hate relationship. Yes, she's definitely gonna have some influence on Caitlyn, which makes sense since she has now lost her mother; she's vulnerable and as we have seen, naive. She's practically free real estate for Ambessa. My recent worry though has been how the fandom seems to be willing to put all of Caitlyn's actions on her as if Cait isn't a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions. Of course being grown doesn't mean you're immune to manipulation, but I've seen some Silco and Jinx comparisons and it is NOT the same. Mind you we haven't even seen the first three episodes; we don't know how far Ambessa's manipulation is going to go and we can't really tell what the dynamic is gonna be like based off of clips and trailers that are likely shown out of context on purpose to throw people off. I'll never defend her actions, hell I'll join in on the lashings, but my black ass is also not gonna sit here and let yall talk about her weirdly or pin all of this on her.

Some might say I'm overthinking this, but I've been here since November 2021 and have sat back and observed for 2 years. You don't have to write deep, philosophical conversations 24/7, I'm sure it's not all in bad faith and I won't act like I don't thirst over Sevika or marvel at Mel's beauty. I'm not saying you have to like these characters and that you're racist if you don't. My frustration comes from the lack of nuanced conversations and hypocritical opinions surrounding black characters in this show. When you try to say something about this, you're hit with excuses; it reminds me of how man obsessed fujoshis act when they're questioned for not giving two fucks about female characters. They're either reduced to one character trait, only admired for their looks, or only discussed when it's about the white character they're connected to. Do NOT under ANY circumstance be black and morally ambiguous, you WILL be held to higher moral standards than everyone's wittle blorbos who can do wrong and are defended from all sides when you dare to take the rose colored stan glasses off and criticize them. What's really ridiculous is you hear the "complex characters" bullshit every two to three business days and some of you have the nerve to boast about this series being diverse while simultaneously ignoring the complexities in the characters of color. This is the main reason I took a step back and with season two around the corner I thought "Hey, maybe it'll be better this time!" and it was a mistake. Good to know yall still have an underlying racism problem you don't wanna address but with some extra classism thrown in. "What will we do once Arcane ends?" hopefully get a job, touch some grass, and reflect. Lord knows yall need it. The faster yall sizzle out the better. I'm done that's all I have to say lol goodnight 👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽.

[b-lossm]

•*+Change pt.2+*•

Caitvi x reader [just vi for this part, fluffier but still angsty]

Synopsis: wait hes.. alive? pt.1

SPOILERS FOR ACT 2!!

Its been months since you've seen Cait, or Vi. You don't even know if you three two are still together, Lately you've heard rumors about another 'Hound of the Underground' taking on the pit fighting scene with rigor. The description almost sounds like Vi, but black hair? She was always proud of her reddish pink hair.

You walk into the arena and pay the fee to get the red ticket, you notice her friend loris in the crowd and make your way over to him. After one quick conversation later and you find out what happened and that she came her to 'outrun her demons', your anger for Caitlyn boiling over but quickly simmering down once you see your girlfriend "Holy shit....." you say, admiring her appearance, her muscles somehow got bigger, and the black suited her, but you like the pink more.

Standing there she doesn't notice you at first, focus on punching this guy's jaw again, but then she hears your familiar shouting from the sidelines, at first she thought she was hallucinating you again, but then she realizes its actually you and decides to put on a show just for you.

--

After her match you meet her again, hugging her softly before asking her what happened with Caitlyn even though Loris told you, you had to hear it from her "I don't wanna talk about it Sunshine, what she did made me question everything--made me question if what me and her had was even real or if she was just using me for information and my strength" oh your poor girl. You push her head into the crook of your neck "lets rest yeah? is that okay?" you don't wanna push the subject anymore, knowing that she' gonna tell you about it eventually. She cuddles into you, dropping her fists to hold you close "mph- yeah that's great Sunshine" she gives you soft kisses on your neck, missing the feeling of your skin on hers "G'night Y/n" she mumbles defeatedly "Goodnight" you kiss her forehead and rub the back of her undercut.

Before you surrender yourself to sleep you look around her small room, looking at all the discarded bottles and broken pieces of glass, noticing the beat up punching bag that has her black makeup on it, right where her eyes are 'my poor violet' you think 'what happened to us' your mind drifts to yours and hers room in your little apartment in Piltover, the nights and days you three would spend together, laughing and having fun before they had to leave.

--

The next morning you both wakeup with a start, she sits up slightly to see the source of the noise only to see her.. sister? After their argument, she told the two of you Vander was somehow alive and that he needed help.

"I have to do this y/n" she says while grabbing her gauntlets "Please let me come Vi--please" you beg, not wanting to be alone again, she places her hands on your waist, leaning in for a deep kiss coming back up for air she says "I promise I'll come back, I promise you y/n, go stay with Loris for a bit and I promise you that I'll come back" she hopes that you understand, even though her sister is a crazy she it had to be serious if she wasn't trying to kill her.

--

After your tearful reunion with the man, Jinx leads your little group to the outskirts of the fissures, Vi taking the time to catch you up with what happened, how she feels like her love for Cait was one sided all this time after her betrayal. Attempting to comfort her you try to reassure her that what she thinks isn't true, how she's too focused on grief and how she hit you too-- "What..?" Vi stops walking "She hit.. you too?" her anger is picking up, you can tell "umm. yeah..bu--" "No buts y/n what the fuck?? you didn't even do anything" she cuts you off obviously pissed at your guys' ex girlfriend, you sigh not wanting to talk about it "Vi can we just talk about it later" "No! this isn't oka--" she interrupts you again, then getting cut off by Jinx "We're here!!". The both of you look ahead at this weirdly pastel oasis civilization.

"we will talk about this later" she says with a huff after surrendering her gauntlets. You kiss her cheek to calm her down "Alright" you missed that little flash of red that appeared on her face whenever you did that, you miss the little flash of pink that appeared on Cait' face but you probably aren't gonna see her anytime soon.. you think

———————————————————————

act two will have two parts because so much happened!! tbh i kinda dont like this but whatever

[skyfallscotland]

🐉 ONYX STORM PROLOGUE, CHAPTERS ONE & TWO MY THOUGHTS: (god bless the dutch 🇳🇱)

So not totally verified yet, but it seems legit. This is absolutely the scene I expected us to be starting with, and despite the translation it does read like Rebecca. Thank you so much to @thestarseternaal for sharing it with me! You can find it here.

Ok, let's fucking goooooo! 🤘

· That trigger warning list? "The death of an animal" 💀😬 The "descriptions of sexual acts" though, thank god, though it's not looking promising for the two of them so far.

· Garrick and Bodhi KNOW?! Ok that I didn't see coming?

· "I can't blame him for wanting to know what he is" ANDARNA 😭 "I'm as much in the dark as he is, and you trust me." 😭 I want to hug the baby

· "Magic feels different when I change colours. When I used my power, it was like the venin transformed, weakening-" Ok so confirmed, she's the solution they're looking for *sigh*

· It's going to be unfortunate if the allies we're seeking are just Poromiel, and I think they are given both the excerpt prior to the prologue and the fact the Target edition map had only a few places in Poromiel on it and no Isles. I guess we're not looking for Andarna's family over there until books four and five? 😞

· Wait...what? Leadership knows what Andarna is? Everyone knows? Who TF told them? I was certain they didn't see? I can't believe we spent all this time worrying about people knowing she was a baby when she bonded and y'all just told everyone she was a super special rare breed right off the bat. SMDH.

· Aotrom's only 22? 😭 I'm older than Aotrom? RIDOC and him are the same age, that makes so much sense!!

· TAIRN CALLS XADEN "THE DARK ONE"? 😭 I feel like I'm not going to like Tairn much this book, and I feel like he's gonna ☠️ but that's for my theory post.

· "His soul is no longer his own" "That's a bit dramatic." VIOLET I LOVE YOU 🖤

· "You mean whether I'll support you in the thousand ways you want to face death to heal someone who's beyond redemption?" Oh Tairn...why do I get the really, really bad feeling you lied about Naolin?

· The truth-sayers have let Caroline Ashton off the hook? Hmmmm suspicious. Everyone's evil, I just know it.

· "Devera and Kaori will be back soon. They’ll straighten out the command structure once the princes have signed a treaty that hopefully grants us grace for even leaving in the first place." Ummm princes plural? So I guess Cam hid for nothing? Well not nothing, but he's...back with his fam? Also why would they be signing shit? Where's the damn king?!

· "The rarest signet, which appear once per generation or century, have been documented twice simultaneously with an equal counterpart, both during critical times in our history, but only once have the six most powerful walked the Continent at the same time. As fascinating as that spectacle must have been, I would rather not witness it again in my lifetime. – A study of signets by Major Dalton Sisneros" Ok could be a weird translation but I'm confused by this. The counterpart thing could be either a rider and a venin (ie. one of the venin can distance wield and we're getting a distance wielder) or dark and light, ie. shadows and light. Also six like the first six and they all had partners within themselves? Three pairs? Or? What even were their signets because I can't believe we've NEVER FUCKING ASKED? I've literally never seen that mentioned and it seems...so fucking relevant.

· Perhaps a more outlandish theory, but I think the venin with the silver hair who distance wields might be Xaden's mother. I'll elaborate later, but 😬😬

· Ok well, 1. I'm fucking crying already, and 2. "Even if I reached the rank of Maven, led armies of dark wielders against everyone we care about, and if I had to watch every vein in my body turn red because I had drained all the powers of the Continent, I would still love you. What I’ve done doesn’t change that. I don’t know if that’s even possible." That's a little bit storm in the quiet, I love it when the vibe is proven ✨correct✨ 😭 @justallihere

So all in all, 1. As expected, every excerpt, hint, and thing we've thought about it over in one-two chapters, 2. This is going to hurt so bad and I think it will go as I expected, and 3. I'm still not ready 😭

Send help 🥺

[justarandombrit]

Believe it or not, I did in fact go to see Spies Are Forever (you'd never know from looking at my blog), and, as usual, I wrote down some notes. My memory is shit so I'll probably update this with additions when I remember more, but for now, below the cut...

Act 1:

. They played Show Stoppin' Number and so many people were singing along

. It started midway through them playing The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals

. Joey: “Sorry to anyone who thought they were seeing Wizard Of Oz. Although, this show has many friends of Dorothy”

. Emily Proudlock has a beautiful voice. The microphone was struggling a little at the start, though lmao

. THEY GOT AN ACTUAL BANANA PEEL

. Oliver Ormson (Owen) called Curt “Mega” which in the show he doesn't do until he becomes the DMA (not a criticism, just interesting)

. Owen said the “A man needs his privacy”(?) line, so Owen and Barb have officially interacted now

. I love Brian's Informant. His French accent was so over the top

. Brian stared at Clark when he said “The Deadliest Man Alive” until Clark played the keyboard sting. And then whenever anyone else said it throughout the show, he played it.

. They left in a huge awkward silence when the DMA was waiting for Sergio and it was so funny

. Sergio sounded so awkward when he said “You guys can relate, right?”

. Joey fucking SCREAMED “PLEASE!” during Sergio's little Somebody's Gotta Do It reprise

. “The Deadliest Man Alive disarms Mega and escapes”

“He does?”

. Dean John Wilson walked back on stage after his exit, said “The Deadliest Man” and left again

. Okay, so Claire M. Hall is a perfect Cynthia

. You guys are gonna crucify me for this, but I actually liked her Eyes On The Prize I better than Lauren's…

. Joey was making the weirdest faces during Eyes On The Prize II

. Curt cocked his head at Hallucination!Owen and Owen shrugged and mouthed “I don't know” at him

. I LOVE EMILY OOI’S BARB!!!!!! She did a cute little dance during “It's actually a gun!”

. Obioma (Curt) pretending his beard had been shaved lmao

. No Richard Big appearance sadly

. Curt was even more oblivious about Tatiana hitting on him than in the actual show

. The Nazi ensemble stuck around throughout the whole scene and kept gasping when Curt called them villains

. THEY MADE NOT SO BAD… EVEN MORE NOT SO BAD

. “SAY WE GOT A BIT LOST, WITH THE WHOLE HOLO–” *looks at ensemble* “ehh…”

. “WE DID ALL WE COULD DO TO poopoo THE JEW”

. They didn't make the audience chant, which was… probably for the best

. Von Nazi yelled “I'm a big boy! A BIG BOY” at Mega then walked off without using his knees

. Curt groaned and hung his head when the DMA said “I'm gonna torture the living shite outta you”

. Actually gasped at the overlapping “Doesn't even matter if I killed my best friend” and “To show you the horror of staying alive”, even though I knew it was coming

. The homoeroticism 🤌🤌🤌🤌

Act 2:

. I WAS ON THE SAME ROW AS A.J. FUCKING HOLMES AND DIDN'T NOTICE UNTIL JOEY SHOUTED HIM OUT

. Joey shouted out loads of cosplayers still in character as Vanger Borschtit

. Everyone was so excited about Vanger Borschtit, and Joey made everyone cheer for an acceptable amount of time “for his reel”

. The new We Love the Prince lyrics really are so much better (also what did he do to the Pope?!?!?)

. Vanger Borschtit was DISTRAUGHT when the prince died

. Obioma stared so blankly into the audience at “Or whatever it is you boys do in the rumpus room”

. I think out of all of the new cast members, Evelyn Hoskins (Tatiana) sounded the most like the original actor (she was also so cool)

. Obioma actually sung the little “Very good place to start” Sound Of Music reference and Tatiana looked so annoyed

. Tatiana was SO into Doing This up until the kiss (which wasn't a real kiss lmao)

. MRS MEGAAAAAAAAAA

. The lights flashed rainbow after the line “So we're just… friends?”

. Curt looked straight at Barb when he said “Some of us may die”

. Curt paused before he drank the shot, and then started drinking a load and everyone stared at him, really concerned. It was a really neat piece of acting

. Von Nazi kept stressing how he had no idea how Feurgin was killed

. The Informant looked so concerned at the start of NSB reprise, then actually kinda got into it

. Jak Malone (Von Nazi) made his death SO DRAMATIC. He fell to the ground and went “Ow, my back! Ow, my front! Ow, my…self” and then got up and bowed

. Owen stood behind the DMA and they just spun around while Joey narrated

. Joey: “THE DEADLIEST MAN ALIVE FALLS DOWN THROUGH A HIDDEN TRAP DOOR IN THE STAGE–”

. ONE STEP AHEAD JSTSKTKEYYKDKFYFUHDYSWWGDJFKGKFDHSGSTSFJKGKGKGJDSYSYIFKF I'M NOT OKAY

Dean: *Crouch-walks away*

. Owen stared directly at Curt (and addressed him instead of Tatiana) when he said “Don't slip up” and loads of people “Ooh”ed

. Owen seemed actually on the verge of tears in Spies Are Forever (Reprise)

. He also fully yelled “You're a caveman!”

. They changed the line “Taking your advice” to “Moving on”, just like Curt (I think it was Curt? Edit: IT WAS JOEY) wanted in the livestream

. The speech before Spy Again (Reprise) was so good. Everyone came out on stage and it was all just incredible

. SPIES ARE FOREVER, IT'S A MUSICAAAAAAAAALLLLLL……. IT'S ABOUT SPIES!

[loseractivities]

Ok time to yap about Billy Loomis. What is bros sexuality?

Billy is 100% gay. I also think that he’s on the aromantic/asexual spectrum, with the best label fitting him being demiaroace. In simple terms, I think the only way he feels authentic romantic/sexual attraction is when he has a very deep emotional, (whether he likes to admit that or not), bond with someone.

People often like to bring up his romantic relationship with Sidney and his sexual affairs with other women, one of which we have proof of in the later movies. Because he was dating Sidney before his mom even left, and they were known to have started off “hot and heavy”, (as Billy likes to call it), he didn’t really have any reason to be doing that. Or did he?!

It goes without being said that Billy is a conventionally attractive white male in the ‘90s. In the movie, we already see Billy’s efforts to appear as normal as possible, wearing bland clothes with little room for interpretation and speaking very little to others. Which leads to why Billyboy was sleeping with girls when he was a big fat QUEER!! …

Billy loves control! He loves it, he loves planning everything out and acting it out like it’s a movie because of his dumb special interest. He loves predictability, he loves feeling normal, and he loves having control over people. What better way to feel in control, (perhaps of his own sexuality), than by sleeping with and casually dating girls!! It makes so much sense.

How does Stu play into this?

Well firstly Stu is Billy’s only real friend. Through subtext we can tell that Billy trusts Stu a lot, considering he trusted him to 1. Call Sidney while he was in jail. 2. Be ghostface with him and have him not tell anyone. 3. Literally fucking stab him… The list goes on. People like to say that Stu didn’t know Billy’s real motive too, which is fucking stupid because why wouldn’t Billy tell him this?? One entire year between murdering Sidney’s mother and then eventually attempting to murder her and all her friends, and you’re telling me Stu wouldn’t have suspected a thing? Just for fun?? Yeah right!

Also people try to say “okay, well then why did Billy stab him so much in the kitchen if he wasn’t trying to kill him”? Firstly it was always part of the plan for Stu and Billy to be the only survivors because only one survivor is extremely suspicious. Secondly you can tell he was just not thinking clearly, he acted on his anger and lost focus of his goal (KILLING SIDNEY??NOT HIS BF??) which is something he NEVER DOES!!

Man,, the whole final act is my favorite, because it really shows both Billy and Stu coming apart and quite literally COMING OUT as the killers. Come on guys. Media. Fucking. Literacy. They literally penetrate each other right in front of Billy’s girlfriend, and that shit was freaky as fuck.

ANYway I’m going off on a tangent. I do wanna talk about why Billy didn’t explicitly say anything about being gay when he so very obviously is. Billy, in all areas, is much less obvious than Stu.

He’s closed off, secretive, keeps up a pretty believable facade to everyone until the finally is able to drop the act. It makes sense he isn’t as physically or verbally affectionate with Stu, and for this reason people are more inclined to believe Stu is gay and in love with Billy more than Billy is gay and in love with him. Well, in order to get a good sense of Billy’s relationship with Stu, you have to look deeper. Let’s start with some things from the script, since there are very few scenes with the two interacting.

Stu and Billy, in the script, are best friends, have known each other since kindergarten, and are partners in crime. Billy obviously is capable of forming strong bonds and connections with very specific people. Even unhealthily so, and we see this in the relationship he has with his mother. He idolizes her, victimizes her, makes her more than she was as a coping mechanism and never officially comes to terms with the fact his mom probably wasn’t as great as he remembers. And when his mom leaves, he breaks, needs control (as stated previously) because his life is suddenly unstable and who does he turn to? Stu!

Also I just wanna say when Stu drapes over his back Billy leans into him okay thanks. Body language in this movie means SO FUCKING MUCH TO ME these actors did amazing. When Billy follows Sidney inside the look of CONTEMPT ON HIS FACE!! The way he looks through his eyelashes. The acting is impeccable Skeety, I love you!!!! 😐😐 Also the way Billy looks at Stu before stabbing himmm…He;s in love I promise. In whatever way he knows how

Lastly the boy has autism

Passionate interests, he loves horror movies and constantly references them throughout the film. Even at unconventional times, like when his girlfriend is venting about her dead mother. Eye contact and too much staring. Meltdowns when overstimulated. The whole last act was just him stimming and destroying shit because stuff didn’t go his way. Bad reactions when plans are interrupted. At the staircase when Sid runs away he punches himself in frustration. Talks with hands in Sidney’s room about The Exorcist. Favorite person/people (his mom and Stu). Extremely overdramatic. When he got fake stabbed. When he falls down the fucking stairs for no reason. Finally, just socially awkward. Any word out of his mouth makes people uneasy. Ez

…Finally for Billy I js wanna say he arches it a lot and I think only someone who takes it like a good boy wpu;ld do that Ok im done by.e

LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE FOR MORE BANGERS LIKE THIS ONE

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐲

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HYUNJIN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: VILLAIN!HYUNJIN, FEM!HERO!READER, HYUNJIN OBSESSED W/ READER, EXES TO ???, SEX TOYS, LINGERIE, STALKING (?), CORRUPTION KINK, MENTIONS OF TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, CHOKING, FINGERING, CLIT PLAY, BOOB/NIPPLE PLAY, HANDCUFFS, HARD DOM!HYUNJIN, ORAL (F. REC), UNPROTECTED SEX, THEY’RE MEAN TO EACH OTHER, PET NAMES (BEAUTIFUL, DARLING,), (1) PUSSY SLAP, SEX TOYS, BEGGING, ORGASM DENIAL, CREAMPIE, VIBRATOR TORTURE, IMPLIED MORE ROUNDS ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.9K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     It was a game to him. A little bit of cat and mouse. Who was who didn't matter? It was fun either way. It was a long game.

     To her, it was a frustration. Dealing with his misleading games. From small petty crimes to large-scale ones, he evaded her. Leaving the scene just as she got there leaving a note. 

     ‘Next time, beautiful. - H’

     A rose with every letter he left. Stumping his little hero in her tracks before he let her catch onto him. Purposefully letting her catch a glimpse of him when she came to stop him. Leaving hints till he was just within reach of him. 

      Playing his cards right to lead her to some dingy nightclub. Getting lost in the crowd. Watching her look for him till he caught her off guard. He was the cat tonight. 

     Quickly walked up behind her on the crowded dance floor and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her back into his chest. Leaning into his ear. “Don’t turn around, beautiful.”

     “Whatever you're planning, don't.” She replied.

     “Then you’ll follow me,” he told her, pulling her out of the crowd and down a hallway. 

     There was barely any light in the hallway. She couldn't even see his face. Just his silhouette— tall and slender. Shorter hair bounced slightly as he walked. 

     Making a sharp turn into a room before pulling her in. Keeping the lights off as he pushed her against the wall.  Pushing his body right against hers. Even in the dark, she could tell he was smirking. 

     “What are you after?” She asked, waiting for her to adjust to the dark to make out his face. 

     “Originally, just the thrill and money. Then you came to the city.”

     She knew that voice. Just couldn’t figure out where. 

     “What do I have to do with this?” she asked 

     “You haven’t figured it out, darling?”

     “Hyu—”

     Y/n was cut off from her sentence by his lips. Those plump lips that took her forever to forget. Just confirming her guess. Only he had ever called her that nickname. 

     His lips left hers as quickly as they were on hers. “Told you we’d meet again. Just need you to want me like I want you, again.”

     Hyunjin pulled away from her and quickly left the room. Y/n followed him a second too late. He was gone as quickly as he appeared. 

     She wasn't aware he was living a double life when they met. She’d just moved to the city for work. She started her ‘volunteer work’ a few days later and two weeks later she met Hyunjin when she was grabbing coffee before work. He had come up and asked her on a date. What could go wrong?

     Maybe it was his possessiveness that set her off. Some was fine but it had caused so many arguments between them in the few months they were together. If they weren’t fighting, they were fucking.

     It wasn’t healthy so she ended things. Five months went by without a hitch. Two months ago, “H” started messing with her. Now everything was making sense to her. 

     She was happy she was off from her day job the next day. Sitting on her couch with her computer and a cup of coffee, hacking into the police department records. There wasn't anything on Hyunjin, he was good at covering his tracks so the cops hadn’t caught him.

     She jumped when she heard her doorbell buzz. She shut her laptop and walked to her apartment door. Seeing a flower delivery man through her peephole. Sighing as she opened the door. 

     “For Y/n L/n,” He said 

     “Thank you,” Y/n smiled, taking the bouquet from him and closing the door. 

     Red roses. A signature at this point for him but she still read the note sticking out from the top.

     ‘I know you’re looking for me, darling. You’ll only find me when I want you to. Keep thinking of me ♡- Hyunjin’

     The pattern repeated every week. She’d look for him but it’d seem he disappeared. His little crime spree seemed to stop, but not other criminals. She did her job in the dead of night. Leaving them for the cops to pick up later. Even though it was their job to catch the criminals in the city, when she got home in the early hours of the morning, there was always something. Notes, flowers, gifts. His attempt at winning her back. Everything but the notes was tossed.

     She had a distaste for how often he was on her mind now. She’d barely thought about him in months but their nightclub encounter was messing with her head. Then she’d drift to their good times— however rare they were.

     Maybe that's how she found herself at the same nightclub. Her eyes peeled for him but he never showed. Rather she was hit on by drunk men all night till she called it quits heading back to her apartment building. Parking her car and heading back up to her unit. 

     She sensed something off when she opened her door. Nothing was out of place, everything was locked. Nonetheless, she quietly closed her front door and locked it. Slipping off her shoes and hanging up her things while grabbing one of the throwing knives she carried out her bag to check her rooms. Just to find nothing but a gift box on her bed. 

     Slowly she walked towards it and undid the ribbon. Jumping as her phone rang.

     She grabbed it out of her pocket and looked at the screen. Unknown caller. She answered the call, pressing the phone to her ear.

     “Not gonna finish opening your present?” Hyunjin’s voice rang the speaker

     “Where are you Hyunjin,” Y/n said

     “Mhm, I missed the way you say my name,” he chuckled on the other end of the line. Fuck that laugh

     Y/n put her phone on speaker and set it on her bed while she opened the box. Tissue paper covering whatever was under it. Lifting the tissue to find a red and black lingerie set with an egg vibrator sitting on top.

     “You like your gift darling?” 

     “Are you out of your mind?” Y/n asked after taking the phone off speaker

     “Mmmm, yes. I am. But you are too.”

     “I’m perfectly sane.”

     “Perfectly sane people don’t jump from buildings every night and take out shitty excuses for criminals. Or chase after their exes”

     “I’m not chasing you.”

     “You’re not?” Hyunjin laughed again, “Then why go to that club again? Definitely didn’t look like you were interested in any of the drunks that came up to you.”

     He was there. And he was watching. 

     “Admit it Y/n, you need me. All over again. We were almost perfect together.”

     “Fighting and fucking all the time was ‘almost perfect’ to you?”

     “The fucking, yes. Could’ve done with less fighting.”

     “That’s why I left.”

     “But here you are, chasing me.”

     Y/n went to say something else but he hung up. She tried calling back but nothing. Sighing in frustration she threw her phone on her bed. Moving the box off her bed and stepping out onto her fire escape for some air. She should just go to sleep but didn’t think she would be able to. It was nearing four in the morning.

     Putting pieces together on a chilly night. Hyunjin knew where she was— not that she moved after their breakup— and how to get in. He possibly could have made a copy of her key and was using that. But there weren’t any threats or danger in his actions. He was just obsessed. Which matched with his possessiveness. 

     He was also watching her. How? She had no clue. She went back inside and checked her whole apartment for cameras or microphones. Nothing. That meant he was close by.

     Y/n went on about her life. Keeping an eye on her surroundings for him. Waiting to see if he would slip up. And he did.

     Her coworkers had insisted on going out over the weekend. A group of them going out to the club and opening a tab. Forgetting about the work stress of dancing and alcohol.

     Hyunjin followed, just as he had. His whole plan was working far too slowly for his taste. Materialistic things weren’t working like he thought. Maybe he could get her alone again. And luck was on his side. Her group had left her on the dance floor and he was behind her in seconds, hands on her hips

     “You look good,” He whispered in her ear

     “Still trying?” She laughed as she turned to him

     “You’re worth trying for.”

     “What’s your end goal here, Hyunjin?” She asked as she pulled him closer to her, just to have a semi-private conversation on the dance floor.

     “Fuck you till you’re as crazy as I am.”

     Y/n looked over his facial expression. He was serious with that devilish smile of his. Leaning in till his lips ghosted her ear. “It’s not like anyone after me has gotten you off like I have. Isn’t that right?”

     “Been keeping that close of tabs, have you?” Y/n tried not to let it phase her

     “Of course I have. Tell me I’m right.”

     Hyunjin lifted a hand to hold her chin while he locked eye contact with her, “Tell me I’m right, and I’ll give you all those pretty orgasms you’ve been missing.”

     “Fuck you,” Y/n said before pulling him to her lips. 

     Hyunjin responded quickly and let his hand rest against her neck. Smiling into their heated kiss before pulling back. “That's my girl.”

     Y/n quickly pulled both of them out of the club. Hyunjin smirked at her eagerness, letting her drag him out to the alleyway behind the club. Pressing him up against the wall and pressing her lips to his again. 

     Hyunjin moaned into her lips before flipping them so she was against the wall. Pressing her hips against his while she gripped his jacket. Slipping his tongue past her lips and dominating her mouth. 

     Y/n fought back with her own tongue till his hand wrapped around her throat. Gasping as he pulled away and looked at her. “I wonder what this city would think about their favorite hero falling for a villain's charms.”

     He let go of her and pulled her out of the alley. Dragging her towards her apartment. The two made it up her stairs as quickly as they could while Y/n grabbed her keys out of her bag. Hyunjin pressed himself right up behind her, leaning in to kiss her neck till the lock clicked and the door opened. Walking inside with her and locking the door behind him. 

     Turning her around and walking her back into her living room, lips reattaching to hers. Backing up to the back of her couch. Y/n grabbed at the back of his neck, pulling lightly at his hair while he sat her on the back of the couch. 

     “Missed these lips so damn much,” Hyunjin mumbled against her lips as he shrugged off his jacket, “been thinking about them every night.”

     “Gonna talk all night or you gonna make do on your promise,” Y/n asked

     Hyunjin smirked and picked her up by her thighs. Wrapping her legs around him, “Don't be taking an attitude now darling.” He warned as he walked towards her bedroom 

     “Thought you liked it when I had one,” Y/n teased

     Hyunjin walked through her door and pinned her down onto her bed, attacking her neck. Kissing the top of her breasts that peaked out from her shirt before lifting the fabric over her head. Just to be greeted with the lingerie he had bought her. 

     Y/n knew his ego was growing seeing the red and black lace. She could see it in his eyes and by the way he practically ripped the remainder of her clothes off her body— lingerie included— before discarding his. Pinning her wrists to her pillows as he started marking up her skin

     Y/n tried slipping her hands out of his but Hyunjin was quick to catch on and moved to hold her hands above her head in one hand while looking down at her. “Can’t behave unless you're tied up, huh?”

     Hyunjin leaned over to her nightstand and opened the bottom drawer. Finding that his toy selection hadn't moved. Pulling out a pair of handcuffs, and locking her to the bed frame. Y/n tugged on the cuffs, both of them knew how to get out of them. That’s why Hyunjin was quick to drag his fingers through her folds and wrap his plump lips around her nipple. His rough tongue flicked the bud while his thumb slowly rolled across her clit. Slowly slipping two fingers inside her. 

     Y/n arched slightly into him, biting her bottom lip to stop her moans. Hyunjin thrusted his fingers in and out of her, slowly picking up his pace. Switching between her breasts sucking, licking, biting, and blowing on her nipples. Making her shiver from the cold feeling. 

     Slowly his lips trailed down her body after getting bored with her tits. Laying on his stomach and wrapping his pretty lips around her clit. Sucking on the little bud and slipped a third finger in. Curling up into her walls. 

     Y/n slowly rocked against him as the pads of his fingers just were barely rubbing against the one spongy spot inside of her. “Fuck,” Y/n whined

     Hyunjin pressed on, finding the spot and abusing it along with her clit. Listening to her moans pick up. Feeling her legs shake next to him as her rocking became more erratic till she stilled. Warmth covered his fingers. 

     He pulled his fingers out and pushed his tongue inside her. Thrusting the muscle in and out of her as she rode out her high. However, he didn't stop once she came down. Licking her clean from the inside till he was satisfied. 

     Sitting up on his knees as he pushed her legs open, hooking his hands under her knees. “Don't got much to say now?” he teased as he wrapped one hand around his leaky cock. Pumping himself a few times before lining the tip up at her entrance. 

     “Just waiting for you to give me a good fuck,” Y/n smiled. 

     Hyunjin scoffed before sinking into her in one go. Watching her mouth fall open. He leaned down and he grabbed her neck as her mouth closed again. “You’re so much nicer to me when my cock’s inside you,” he chuckled as he pulled back and thrusted into her again. 

     Sitting back up and keeping his hold on her neck, using it to push her to meet his thrust. Feeling her vocal cords move under his hand from any whines and moans she was making. 

     “Seems like you missed having me inside your pretty little pussy,” Hyunjin groaned 

     “Didn't miss you at all,” Y/n shot back at him

     “Really?” Hyunjin pulled his hand from her neck and then pulled out of her. Listening as she whined and her hips bucked towards him. Her hole clenching around nothing, “Seems like you did.”

     Hyunjin brought his hand down on her wet cunt. Enjoying the little scream she let out. He peaked over at the open toy drawer to see what else he could use. Pulling out a magic wand and licking his lips. 

     He didn't think twice about turning the toy to the second-lowest setting and pressing it against her clit. 

     “Oh fuck,” Y/n whined, throwing her head back into the pillow 

     “You're going to start begging if you wanna cum,” Hyunjin told her 

     He kept one hand pressing the toy to her clit while he wrapped the other around himself. Getting off to the way her body shook from the toy. Waiting to hear her beg for him to fuck her again. 

     “‘M gonna cum,” Y/n moaned

     Hyunjin pulled the toy away from her clit. Laughing at her whines and pleas. 

     “Please Jinnie, wanna cum so bad,” Y/n whined, “Promised you’d give me em.”

     “That’s before you were a brat,” Hyunjin huffed 

     “‘M sorry! I missed you, missed having you inside me! Need you to cum,” Y/n rambled, tears escaping her eyed 

     “Yeah?” He asked, feeling his high quickly approaching, and pointed his tip at her wet folds, more aiming for her clenching hole

     “Yes! Thought of you every time I was with someone else!”

     Y/n gasped as Hyunjin filled her with his cock again. Immediately bullying his cock against her walls. Pressing the toy back against her clit, feeling her clench around him. 

     “Shit,” Hyunjin groaned. 

     Within a few more thrusts, he buried himself inside her. His warm cum filled her up. The vibrator slipped from her clit for a moment before he fixed the issue and turned up the speed. 

     Listening to her whines as he came down from his high just to finally trigger hers. Watching her hips buck against him. Hyunjin managed to pull out of her and pull the toy away from her to take in the full show. Smiling as she came down, their mixture dripped out of her. 

     He turned off the toy and tossed it beside them on the bed. Finding the keys for the cuffs and unlinking them from the headboard. Turning the hero onto her stomach and lifting her hips up and sinking back into her. 

     “Jin,” Y/n whined

     “You’re okay darling. Gonna take care of you all night,” Hyunjin smirked and nipped at her ear.

     Hands grabbing her wrists and pinning her down to the pillows. “Gotta remind you that you’re mine.”

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[thebunnednun]

Toast 3.

Pairing: Pro Hero! Katsuki Bakugou x Prohero!Ex! Reader

Years after you walked out of his life, Katsuki can't stand how his mind won't let you go after all this time.

And after your most recent phone call,

He doesn't think he ever will.

You baddies with fatties know what time it is.

Part one right here.

Part 2 over yander

Inspired by the song: Darling, I

Additional song: Hurt

Warning: Heavy angst, post break ups, crying Katsuki, meeting ex's (you).

"You."

His voice was sharp, sharper than intended, but there was also a tremor in it that he couldn’t quite control. A piece of him wanted to move, to step back, to escape this strange pull.

Katsuki's feet were rooted to the spot.

You didn’t answer right away.

Instead, you stared up at him, her eyes scanning his face with an intensity that made him feel exposed, like you could see through the layers he kept carefully guarded.

It was you—holding Eri in your arms, the world seemingly standing still as the rest of Class 1-A filled the ramen shop with their usual energy. They were scattered around the tables, carefree laughter and banter echoing off the walls. 

The mood was light, filled with the comfort of being surrounded by friends who didn’t have to speak about the weight of the world to be understood. For a moment, everything felt like it could just go on forever, uncomplicated and easy.

Standing silently at the entrance behind you, was a presence that commanded attention without a word. 

Aizawa.

His figure was cloaked in black, just as sharp and disinterested as ever, though his appearance had changed—his hair was longer now, tied back in a low bun, the familiar stubble on his jaw now neatly groomed into something more respectable. His arms were crossed, leaning against the doorframe, eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

You were right in front of him now, Eri in your arms—her dark maroon dress contrasting with the brightness of the ramen shop. She laughed, sweet and innocent, her joy radiating outward. And then, before anyone could blink, she threw herself into Katsuki’s arms with a burst of energy, the weight of her small form barely affecting him. He grunted as he caught her, a gruff smile breaking through his usual scowl as she snuggled into him.

It was then that everything seemed to shift. The room grew quieter, and every pair of eyes in the ramen shop turned toward you and Katsuki. He could feel the shift, the sudden focus of the room falling on him, but his eyes—his only focus—were on you. You.

You looked better than the last time he'd seen you on the news.

Better than the picture he'd imagined in his head. There were signs, faint but there—small remnants of the fight you’d endured. The smallest pink tint to your eyes, as if they carried the weight of things you couldn’t say. Bandages wrapped around your arms, the faintest hint of surgical tape holding part of your eyebrow in place, but even those marks didn’t matter to him. Not when he saw you.

It was you—the you, the one from before.

The one who had been a part of him once, so effortlessly entwined in his world that it felt like a distant memory now, a ghost of something beautiful he couldn’t quite let go. And even with the signs of the struggle you’d been through, you were still lovely—so lovely—like the day he met you and the day you walked away, and every single moment in between.

You were forever.

Katsuki’s chest tightened, his heart beating faster as you turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. His breath hitched, and his mind—his thoughts—tangled in chaos. ‘Oh, fuck.’ He didn’t know if he could do this. 

Didn’t know if he could face this moment, standing in front of you after all this time. 

His stomach churned, his throat suddenly dry.

There were no words to fill the gap. Just the lingering gaze. The weight of the silence was almost too much. His heart was racing, the uncertainty of it all sinking in deeper with every passing second.

You were still the one he thought of when the world went quiet. But now… now, you were here, and everything he thought he knew was slowly shattering.

He wasn’t sure if he was ready for this. For you.

And yet… he couldn’t pull away.

Aizawa stepped forward silently, his sharp eyes softening just the slightest as Eri giggled in Katsuki’s arms. She hugged him tightly, her small arms wrapped around his neck as if she never wanted to let go. Katsuki, overwhelmed, held her close for a beat longer before Aizawa gently rested a hand on her back.

“Come on, Eri,” Aizawa murmured, his voice low and steady as always. “Let Bakugou breathe.”

Eri pulled back, her bright eyes shimmering with happiness. “Thank you, Kacchan,” she whispered before reaching out for Aizawa. Katsuki handed her over, his hands lingering in the air for a second longer than necessary as if he wasn’t quite ready to let go. Aizawa gave a brief nod to Katsuki, then to you, before turning toward the others, Eri nestled against him.

You turned your attention to Izuku and Todoroki, a small nod of acknowledgment exchanged between you and the two behind Katsuki. Izuku looked as if he wanted to say something, his hands twitching at his sides, but he held back, his green eyes wide with surprise and maybe a bit of relief. Todoroki, ever composed, gave a small nod in return, though his gaze lingered, curious but respectful.

Then you shifted your focus back to Katsuki. Without a word, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand before intertwining with his.

It would have been better if you shot him. 

His entire body jolted at the contact. It was as if a firework had gone off inside him—a sharp, electric heat that started at the very tips of his fingers and shot up his arm, exploding into his chest and spreading through every inch of him. He felt like he was burning alive, and yet, it wasn’t painful. It was overwhelming, consuming, like the first crackle of an ignition that he couldn’t control.

You gave his hand a gentle tug, and he followed without thinking, his feet moving on instinct as you led him outside. 

The cold air hit him again, sharp and bracing, but it did nothing to quell the inferno raging inside him. His thoughts blurred into a mess of heat and longing, the contact of your hand against his sending his heart into overdrive.

He could barely think, barely breathe. All he knew was the warmth of your touch and the fact that he couldn’t—wouldn’t—let go.

Not this time.

You led him just past the shop's entrance, the cold air still biting but not nearly as harsh as the electric charge pulsing between you both. It was quieter here, the sounds of laughter and clinking dishes from inside a muffled hum behind you. As you came to a stop, you glanced toward the shop window. Denki caught your eye from his seat, flashing a wide, toothy grin and waggling his fingers at you.

Your lips curved into a soft, genuine smile as you wiggled your fingers back at him. It was a small, playful gesture, but the warmth in it hit Katsuki like a punch to the gut. When Denki noticed who stood beside you, his grin faltered, and his face disappeared beneath the edge of the windowsill in a dramatic slump. You chuckled softly, turning back to Katsuki with that same light still dancing in your expression.

And then, it was just you two.

Katsuki became all too aware of the bag hanging awkwardly from his wrist and the bouquet clutched in his hand. He tightened his grip instinctively as if he could somehow shield the delicate flowers from your gaze. But you noticed them anyway, your eyes flicking to the bouquet for just a second before landing on him again.

“Hot date tonight?” you teased, your voice lilting with a playful edge, but there was something genuine in the smile that accompanied it. The way your eyes twinkled when you looked at him made his chest ache, and his stomach churn weakly.

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His throat felt too tight, his voice lodged somewhere between his lungs and the storm brewing in his mind. He could only stand there, staring at you like some starstruck fool, taking you in as if seeing you for the first time all over again.

You were breathtaking. You always had been.

The funeral attire somehow only added to the ethereal quality about you, as though you’d stepped out of another world entirely. The tailored black coat hugged you snugly, cinched at the waist, and fell just past your knees, its hem swaying softly in the cold breeze. Underneath, a sleek black dress peeked out, its neckline modest but flattering, the fabric glimmering faintly with each subtle shift of your body.

And then there was you.

Your skin had a healthy, warm glow despite the faintest hints of exhaustion etched at the corners of your eyes, their pinkish hue betraying emotions you kept tightly tucked away. The surgical tape that stitched together a part of your eyebrow and the bandages peeking from the sleeves of your coat told their own stories, but they didn’t dull your beauty. If anything, they added to it—like cracks in a porcelain vase that somehow made it even more striking.

The curve of your lips, still soft and inviting, was framed by the sweet corners of your mouth. Your word could speak life or death into him, even 16 years later. Your braids that cascaded over your shoulders seemed heavy now. The wind teased them, strands of hair catching the light like threads of onyx. 

Your eyes—those bright, captivating eyes that could light up a room or pierce through steel—were locked on him, brimming with curiosity, warmth, and something that made his knees feel like jelly.

For a moment, Katsuki forgot how to breathe.

And then, like a cruel bolt of lightning, his mind betrayed him.

The weight in Katsuki’s chest finally broke loose as fresh tears welled in his eyes, unbidden and unstoppable. He lowered himself slightly, enough to meet you at eye level. The intensity in his gaze softened, and his voice, rough and strained, cracked just slightly as he spoke.

"I'm sorry about Rita," he said, his words deliberate but heavy, as though each one carried a piece of the sorrow he couldn’t contain. "I wish I could’ve helped."

Your eyes widened, the surprise stark in your expression. For a moment, you stood frozen, the bouquet trembling in your hands. Your lips parted, but no sound escaped. You swallowed, hard, once, and then again, your throat working against the sudden flood of emotion.

“Thank you,” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling like the faintest echo of a storm. “She…she would tell you not to beat yourself up about it.”

Katsuki blinked, his mouth twitching as he tried to process your words. And then, to your visible shock, a single tear escaped the corner of his eye. You followed its trail, transfixed, as it carved a path down his cheek, catching briefly on the sharp line of his jaw before vanishing into the night.

Neither of you moved for a long moment, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you. The world seemed to fade into the background—the muffled hum of the ramen shop, the distant sound of passing cars, the neon lights casting fractured colors onto the pavement.

Finally, you cleared your throat, the sound delicate but grounding. "You…you okay?"

“Yeah,” Katsuki muttered, his voice rough. “Are you?”

You tilted your head slightly, as if considering the question, and offered a weak but genuine smile. 

“Getting there,” you said, your tone faintly wry.

The conversation drifted after that, not about Rita but about small things—the kind of easy, gentle back-and-forth that came from a place of familiarity. Katsuki found himself listening more than talking, his sharp edges dulled by the warmth in your voice. He couldn’t help but notice, though, how your shoulders tensed every so often, the faintest shiver rippling through you.

Without a word, Katsuki motioned for you to follow him, his boots crunching softly against the gravel as he led you toward a familiar pickup truck parked a short distance away. You hesitated but followed, your brows furrowing in curiosity.

“This…is Kirishima’s truck,” you said, half-questioning as you stopped beside him.

Katsuki nodded, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah. You think he’d let me hear the end of it if I didn’t take care of you? You’d break his damn heart if you didn’t feel comfortable using his stuff.”

His tone was mockingly sweet, exaggerated in a way that brought the faintest flicker of a smile to your lips. He leaned through the cracked window, reaching into the cab with practiced ease, and retrieved a familiar jacket—the black one with the orange lining he always wore on colder days.

Straightening, he held it out to you. For a moment, you hesitated, your eyes searching his face in the neon glow. Something in his expression—a quiet sincerity, almost tender in its simplicity—made the decision for you. 

Gently, you took the jacket, your fingers brushing his in the exchange.

“Thanks,” you said softly, slipping your arms through the sleeves. The warmth enveloped you almost immediately, carrying with it the faint, comforting scent of smoke and caramel that was so distinctly Katsuki.

“Come on,” he said, nodding toward the side of the shop where you’d been before.

You fell into step beside him, the two of you walking back in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. It felt like a moment suspended in time, fragile but somehow right. Katsuki couldn’t help but glance at you as you walked, the way the neon lights danced across your face, highlighting the curves and planes he’d memorized long ago. 

You looked so different from the last time he’d seen you, yet so achingly familiar, and for a second, it was almost too much.

But he kept walking, matching his pace with yours, the weight of his earlier thoughts lightened just a little by your presence.

"Why the flowers and the card?"

The question escaped your lips softly, curious but tinged with something else.

Katsuki’s gaze darted to the ground for a split second, and then he looked at you again, his eyes uncharacteristically earnest. 

"Because I saw them and thought of you," he said, his tone quieter than usual but unwavering.

Your eyebrows raised in a sharp arc, and the corners of your mouth tugged up faintly, though the expression didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Ouch," you muttered, letting your face relax as you absentmindedly reached up to rub at the spot where surgical tape stretched across your eyebrow.

Katsuki’s entire body tensed. Instinct roared through him, bypassing thought, and his hand shot up halfway to yours before he froze. The hesitation was uncharacteristic, almost foreign, and it hung in the air like an unresolved chord.

You caught the motion, your gaze snapping to his. For a brief moment, you both stared, an unreadable mix of emotions flickering across your face. Then, as if the tension was too much to bear, you let out a breathy laugh and muttered under it, 

"I’m not the one who bites."

It was the breaking point. 

Katsuki’s knees gave out in the most spectacularly graceless way possible. His legs simply folded, and his body jolted downward like a puppet with its strings cut.

"Shit!" he hissed as his back collided with a parking meter, the hollow clang echoing in the otherwise quiet street.

Your surprised yelp followed almost immediately, and before you could think, you lunged forward to steady him. The momentum carried you straight into his chest, and he instinctively grabbed your waist to keep you both from collapsing entirely.

The collision was messy and awkward, but what followed was neither. 

For a moment, you were pressed so close that the world around you faded. 

Your heartbeats synced, thrumming against each other like an unspoken melody, the warmth of his body seeping through the layers of fabric between you. His scent—smoke, burnt caramel, and something indefinably Katsuki—engulfed you, and your own familiar fragrance, that lotion he used to tease you about, rose faintly to meet him.

Katsuki couldn’t breathe. His ears went beet red, the flush spreading up his neck like wildfire. You, for your part, were entirely still, your face mere inches from his as your wide eyes blinked up at him in stunned silence.

The flowers, nearly squished between your bodies, crumpled slightly against his chest. You made a small noise of protest, your first attempt to pull back thwarted by the press of his hands still firm on your waist.

"Katsuki…," you started, but your voice faltered as you glanced down at the proximity.

Something in him snapped. 

He was done, absolutely done with this entire embarrassing spiral of events. With a huff of determination, he bent his knees slightly, shifted his grip, and scooped you up in one clean motion.

"What the hell—" you exclaimed, but the rest of your sentence got lost somewhere between shock and disbelief as Katsuki turned on his heel and strode across the street like a man on a mission.

You blinked down at him, torn between indignation and incredulous laughter. "Put me down, Katsuki!"

"Not a chance," he grumbled, his voice laced with something both exasperated and resolute.

He crossed the street to a small, shared sitting area just outside a convenience store and another restaurant. The space was warm and inviting, illuminated by the soft glow of several open fireplaces scattered among the tables. The smell of charred wood and faint spices lingered in the crisp night air.

A waiter lingering by the outdoor seating area blinked in confusion as Katsuki approached. Without so much as a word, Katsuki shoved a crumpled wad of yen into the waiter’s hand—far more than the situation warranted—and jerked his chin toward the farthest corner of the space.

"Beat it," he ordered, his voice sharp but not unkind.

The waiter, visibly rattled, hesitated for a moment before turning his gaze to you, clearly wondering if he needed to intervene.

You poked your head out from where it had been resting against Katsuki’s chest and offered the waiter a sheepish but reassuring smile. "It’s fine," you said, your voice steady despite your awkward position. "I’m a consenting party in this whole…thing."

The poor man nodded slowly, clearly unconvinced but not willing to argue. "I’ll, uh, bring you menus in a bit," he murmured before hurrying off toward the restaurant.

Katsuki didn’t stop until he reached a quiet corner, where the heat from one of the nearby fireplaces cast a gentle glow over the stone-tiled ground. He set you down on one of the cushioned benches, shrugging off the weight of the entire situation with a small huff.

The warmth from the fire flickered across both of your faces, chasing away the lingering chill of the night. 

You glanced around the now-vacant area, noting the unexpected privacy, and raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Subtle," you teased, though the faint curl of a smile on your lips softened the jab.

Katsuki shrugged, leaning back slightly with his hands stuffed into his pockets. His eyes found yours, steady and burning with an intensity that made your breath hitch. "Subtle’s overrated," he said simply.

You huffed a laugh and shook your head, leaning into the heat of the fire. The silence that fell between you was far from uncomfortable. Instead, it felt almost sacred, like a fragile bubble that neither of you wanted to pop.

And for the first time in years, Katsuki felt the weight on his chest ease, just a little.

You nudge the seat in front of you but Katsuki doesn’t budge. 

He hesitated, glancing between the bench and you, but something in your expression left no room for argument. He grumbled under his breath, lowering himself onto the cushioned seat with a sharp exhale. Quickly, you shoved the flowers into his hands and used your nails to slice open the envelope. 

The flames from the nearby fire pit cast a golden hue over his face, softening the hard lines of his features.

You straightened the edges of the card in your hands, fingers brushing over the raised lettering on the front. It was plain but tasteful, and as you opened it, Katsuki’s scrawled handwriting sprawled unevenly across the inside. The strokes were rushed, almost frantic, like he’d barely had time to think before putting pen to paper.

He watched you as you read, his chest rising and falling in measured breaths. But beneath the practiced control, you could sense the tension radiating off him. 

He looked like a high schooler waiting for his crush to read his love letter, except you knew—you knew—that wasn’t what he had written about. 

And yet, as you scanned the words, the crease between your brows deepened.

Your eyes flicked over the lines again. Then again. Katsuki’s leg started bouncing, and his hand gripped the armrest tightly enough to make his knuckles whiten.

“Well?” he finally snapped, his voice rough, though you caught the faintest edge of nervousness underneath.

“I don’t get it,” you said bluntly, lowering the card slightly but keeping your gaze fixed on the uneven handwriting. 

“This isn’t like you, Katsuki.”

His jaw tightened. 

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

You didn’t answer immediately, rereading a particular passage. “…Maybe letting go is a beautiful thing. Perfect for the time being…” you murmured, your voice soft and filled with confusion. 

“What is this?”

“What does it sound like?” he said gruffly, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. The firelight glinted off his sharp crimson eyes, making them look even more intense. “It’s…fuck, it’s about life.”

“About life?” You met his gaze fully now, your lips parted slightly. “Katsuki, this…” You held up the card. 

“This sounds like you’re talking about how we moved on. How we’ve…achieved everything we dreamed of.”

“Yeah, and?” His voice cracked slightly, and he covered it with a cough. 

“Ain’t that true?”

You pause, your fingers tightening on the edges of the card. 

“Is it?”

His leg stopped bouncing. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The distant hum of the city filled the silence, broken only by the occasional pop of the firewood.

“I drive my Bimmer in the summer,” you began slowly, rereading another line, “Forever is too long. Katsuki, what are you…what are you trying to say here?”

He scrubbed a hand down his face, letting out a frustrated groan. “It’s not…fuck, it’s not about that shit literally, alright?” He leaned back, running both hands through his hair and making it stick up even more than usual. 

“It’s about…about how nothing’s ever enough.”

“What do you mean?” Your voice softened, and your gaze searched his face for answers. “What isn’t enough?”

His laugh was bitter, short, and humorless. “Everything. The cars, the rank, the money, the…the goddamn awards” He waved a hand vaguely, his frustration tangible. 

“None of it fucking matters if I…if I can’t…”

“If you can't, what?” you pressed gently, leaning forward.

His lips parted, but no words came out. 

He looked at you, really looked at you, and for a moment, he seemed like he was about to say something monumental. 

But then his gaze flicked to the hem of your dress, and he saw another, singed and blackened in places, and his expression shifted to something else entirely.

“Were you okay?” he asked abruptly, his voice low and gruff.

You blinked, startled by the sudden change. “What?”

“Your dress,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the edges. “It got burned.”

“Oh.” You glanced down at the ruined fabric, brushing it lightly with your fingers. “Yeah, I was fine. It’s nothing.”

He made a noise in the back of his throat, something that sounded suspiciously like doubt. 

“’s not nothing,” he muttered.

You sighed, tilting your head slightly. “Were you okay? You know…after I threw you off the balcony?”

The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a brief, wry smile. “’Course I’m okay. Didn’t even scratch me.” He paused, his gaze dropping. 

“But…I should’ve called.”

Your heart stuttered, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak. You stared at him, your fingers tightening on the card again. Finally, you let out a shaky laugh. “Forget about it. I did. Mostly.” You bit the inside of your cheek and glanced down, your voice dropping. 

“Though there are a few pictures I wish I’d taken with me.”

He straightened slightly, his brows furrowing. “I could bring ‘em to you.”

You almost dropped the card. Your fingers fumbled, and the paper fluttered dangerously before you caught it. 

“What?”

Katsuki frowned, his head tilting slightly. “What?”

“You kept them?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes searched his face for any sign of dishonesty. “I thought you…I thought you would’ve burned them all.”

The shock on his face was immediate, his eyes widening as if you’d just accused him of treason. “What?” he repeated, his voice louder now. “Hell no! I…I couldn’t have done that.” He hesitated, his hands clenching into fists before relaxing. 

“Okay, maybe I could’ve…but not…not of you.” His voice dropped, rough and raw. 

“Not of you.”

The words hung between you like a fragile thread, trembling but unbroken. The fire crackled softly, casting dancing shadows across your faces as you stared at each other in silence. His confession lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken, and you found yourself unable to look away from him.

For once, Katsuki didn’t look like the indomitable hero or the brash, fiery man you had known for so long. 

He looked vulnerable, human, and heartbreakingly sincere. 

And as the flames reflected in his crimson eyes, you felt a pang deep in your chest—an ache that you weren’t sure you could ignore any longer.

But neither of you spoke.

The silence was too precious, too fragile to break. 

So you sat there, bathed in the warm glow of the fire, each of you quietly trying to piece together the fragments of what had once been.

Katsuki placed the bouquet gently on the table, the vibrant colors of the flowers catching the flickering glow of the firelight. His hands rose shakily to his head, fingers threading through his blond hair as he gripped at the roots, tugging slightly as if he could wring the words out of his mind. His elbows rested on the table, and for a moment, he stayed like that—shoulders hunched, eyes squeezed shut, and his breath uneven.

You sat across from him, your hands folded in your lap, trying to steel yourself for whatever storm of words was about to come. You could see the faint tremor in his fingers and the deep lines of stress carved into his face. 

Then, finally, he exhaled deeply and lifted his head, his crimson eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

“I... I heard this song,” he began, his voice hoarse. “It’s been trending lately, y’know? And maybe that’s why I wrote all that shit in the card. It just... it hit something in me. Something I’ve been too much of a coward to face for years.”

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head as if mocking himself. “I know I’m being selfish right now. I know you’re dealing with your grief, and you don’t need me dragging up all this crap from the past, but—” 

He stopped, swallowing hard as his Adam’s apple bobbed. 

“But I can’t live with myself if I don’t get this off my chest.”

Katsuki leaned forward suddenly, reaching out to take both of your hands in his. His grip was firm yet trembling, his palms warm against yours. His eyes, now glossy with tears, locked onto yours, and the weight of his emotions slammed into you like a tidal wave. Your own tears began to blur your vision, and you cursed yourself for being unable to hold them back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. The silence that followed felt deafening, the words hanging heavy in the air between you.

Your face was unreadable, frozen in a mixture of shock and vulnerability. He pressed forward, his thumbs brushing over the backs of your hands as he continued. 

“I’m sorry for everything. For acting like a fucking idiot back then. For how things ended. For the media shitstorm. For the way I left things hanging in the air... for never reaching out.” 

His voice grew quieter with each apology, the regret in his tone cutting deeper each time.

“I’m sorry for the way it affected everyone—our friends, our lives. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed someone. And I’m so goddamn sorry I let all this time pass.” He let out a shaky breath, his voice breaking as he forced himself to go on. 

“Your grandma... she passed away, and I wasn’t there. I couldn’t... I couldn’t shield you from that pain or comfort you when you needed it most. And maybe you didn’t want me there. Maybe you didn’t need me. But...” He looked down at your joined hands, his tears slipping free and landing silently on your knuckles. 

“I wanted to be there. I wanted to offer it anyway.”

His head hung for a moment as if the weight of his emotions had become too much to bear. When he looked back up, his face was raw and unguarded, the barriers he’d so carefully built over the years crumbling to dust.

“I know the saying,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper. “‘A day late and a dollar short.’ Well, I’m sixteen years too fucking late. But... from the bottom of my heart and the depths of my soul,” 

“I’m sorry.”

Your lip trembled as his words sank in, every syllable hitting you like a blow. He squeezed your hands gently, the desperation in his touch almost unbearable.

“And I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he added, his voice firmer now, though still laced with anguish. 

“I know it’s selfish of me to even bring this up, but... I wish I’d handled things better. I wish there wasn’t this giant wall between us, this mountain of distance that just keeps growing. I don’t even know what else to say or do...”

Katsuki’s voice trailed off, and he stared into your eyes, unflinching despite the tears rolling down his cheeks. 

His vulnerability, his raw honesty, was overwhelming, and you could feel your own tears spilling over, streaming silently down your face.

Neither of you moved, and neither of you broke the gaze. 

In the glow of the firelight, your shared silence spoke louder than words. The years of pain, regret, and longing that had built up between you seemed to swirl in the air, heavy yet strangely cathartic. You could feel his pulse through your hands, steady yet erratic, matching the rhythm of your own racing heart.

And in that moment, as the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you, you realized how profoundly you had both been carrying the weight of the past.

You nodded slowly, the weight of his words pressing against you like a tangible force. It wasn’t just the apology—though the power of it was undeniable—but the sheer enormity of emotions it dragged up from inside you, emotions you thought you’d buried long ago. They rose like a tide, unbidden and relentless, threatening to pull you under.

Your eyes darted down to your joined hands, his fingers warm and trembling against yours. 

It felt surreal. 

This moment felt surreal. The space between you was thick with an odd mix of tension and... something else. Maybe it was the weight of the situation. Maybe it was the tragedy of it all, the reminder of what had been lost—not just Rita, but the years, the connection, the bond you once shared.

In another life, in a world untouched by this grief, maybe you could have blown him off. You could have let him sit there with his bag of feelings, with the apology that came far too late. 

You’d have every right to. 

After all, you hadn’t asked for this. You hadn’t asked for the years of silence, the emotional chaos, or the devastation of a friendship that was supposed to be built on something pure and simple—your heart, freely offered, no strings attached.

But here you were, and despite the storm of anger, pain, and regret churning inside you, there was something else. Something lighter.

Strange, unfamiliar.

Maybe it was happiness. Not the kind that bursts forth in bright, fleeting bursts, but the quiet, steady sort that comes from acknowledgment.

Katsuki Bakugou—proud, brash, unrelenting Katsuki Bakugou—was sitting before you, raw and broken, admitting out loud that he had messed up. That he was sorry. And he wasn’t asking for anything. 

Not forgiveness. 

Not a second chance. 

Nothing. 

Just... acknowledgment in return.

And maybe that’s what made this moment so heavy.

Because last night, when you’d torn apart your house in a frantic, grief-stricken search for Rita’s will, you’d reached the end of your rope. The thought of calling him, of hearing his voice, had nearly shattered you. You’d stood there, clutching your phone, staring at the blank screen with trembling hands.

But then you dialed. 

Without thinking, without hesitating, your fingers moved on instinct.

You knew that number by heart, even after all these years. The call had gone through, and his voice on the other end—rough, surprised, and slightly panicked—had hit you like a freight train.

Now, here he was, sitting across from you, holding your hands like they were a lifeline. And you couldn’t shake the feeling of dissonance. 

Because this man before you? 

He wasn’t your Katsuki.

Your Katsuki was somewhere in the past, frozen in the amber of your memories. 

He was the brash boy from high school, the fiery upstart at the beginning of his career. He was the one who used to shield your name like it was sacred, who would all but attack anyone who dared utter it in his presence. You used to watch him on the news, almost marveling at how far he would go to avoid even the shadow of you.

This man, though—this Katsuki—was different. 

He was older, quieter, and somehow softer, even in his roughness. He was still selfish—he’d admitted as much—but there was a depth to it, a maturity, that hadn’t been there before.

And maybe, just maybe, you needed to hear this. Not for him, but for yourself. To let go of the past you’d avoided so much, to release the grip of the “what could have been” that had quietly haunted you since things fell apart.

The firelight danced across his face, highlighting the tears that glistened on his cheeks. His grip on your hands tightened ever so slightly, grounding you in the present. And though your mind was racing, spiraling into memories and emotions, you realized something with startling clarity. 

This moment, this apology, was as much for you as it was for him. 

A chance to unburden yourself of the pain, to finally put it to rest.

You exhaled shakily, your voice a whisper as you finally spoke.

“Katsuki…”

"She asked about you," you said, your voice trembling as you squeezed his hands. Your eyes dropped to your lap, unable to hold his gaze any longer. Katsuki stiffened slightly, a flicker of something unnamable crossing his face. He knew who you meant.

“Rita,” he whispered, barely audible.

You nodded. "She asked if I’d spoken to you. If you’d finally broken and reached out to me."

Your voice cracked, and Katsuki saw it all then—everything you had kept buried for years. The hurt. The pain of loving the woman who had raised you. The unbearable weight of loss that now hung between you, heavy and suffocating. It was all there, laid bare in your expression.

And then, the dam broke.

You cried. Openly and freely, the tears spilling down your cheeks in hot, stinging streams. Your shoulders trembled with the force of it, and your breath came in ragged, uneven gasps.

Katsuki’s soul tightened. 

The sight of you like this—it was too much. 

He couldn’t just sit there, couldn’t let you drown in the grief that he’d avoided for so long. Without a word, he moved. His chair scraped loudly against the floor as he slid closer, his hands releasing yours only so he could wrap his arms around you.

Before you even registered it, you were pulled into the warmth of his chest.

Katsuki's arms encircled you tightly, holding you like you might shatter into pieces if he let go. One hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers threading smoothing down your hair, while the other arm wrapped around your wait and pressed firmly against your back, keeping you anchored to him.

He began rocking you, slowly and gently, back and forth. The motion was soothing, rhythmic. 

Familiar. 

It took you back to the times he’d done the same—after you’d failed a test in school and were convinced you’d never make it, or in the sterile, suffocating room of a hospital after the Hero War when everything felt impossibly bleak.

Katsuki’s voice broke through your sobs, hoarse and choked with emotion. “You’re safe,” he repeated, over and over, like a mantra.

And then, you heard it—his own crying. 

Quiet at first, just shaky breaths and the occasional sniff, but it grew louder as the weight of the moment pressed down on him. His shoulders shook as his tears spilled freely, dampening your hair and his cheeks alike. His grip on you tightened, like he was afraid you might vanish if he let go.

“It shouldn’t have taken this,” he managed through the tears. His voice was raw, every word thick with regret. “It shouldn’t have taken her... for us to talk again. For me to—” He broke off, his chest heaving with another sob.

You buried your face into his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. You felt the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek, strong and erratic all at once. It was grounding in a way nothing else could be.

“I miss her,” you choked out, the words barely audible through the sobs.

“I know,” Katsuki whispered, his voice breaking. “I know. She—” He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing visibly. “She was amazing. She’s at peace now.”

The two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, crying openly and freely for what felt like an eternity. In that moment, it didn’t matter how much time had passed, or how much pain had been inflicted, or how selfish it might seem.

What mattered was that, for the first time in years, you weren’t alone in your grief. 

And neither was he.

You stayed like that, holding onto each other as if letting go would mean losing everything all over again. You didn’t know how much time passed. The world outside seemed to fade into irrelevance, the soft murmur of distant traffic and the bite of winter’s cold only faint reminders that life still moved on beyond your bubble of shared grief.

The streetlights flickered on one by one, casting a golden glow over the sidewalk where you sat, but you didn’t want to move.

You didn’t want to leave the warmth of Katsuki’s embrace—the man you had loved so deeply, so fiercely, that even now, after everything, the embers of that love still burned quietly in the darkest part of your soul. 

And so, you cried again. 

Not for your grandmother this time, but for the friendship you had lost. For the relationship that had crumbled under the weight of pride and immaturity. 

For the future you had once dreamed of together but had been shattered into irreparable pieces.

Katsuki cried too, the sound raw and unfiltered, like an ocean tide crashing against jagged rocks. 

The weight of his emotions poured out in waves, and you felt like you could drown in the sorrow that filled the space between you. The salty taste of tears clung to your lips, and the cold air stung your damp cheeks.

As you sniffled, you realized with a groan that you’d left your purse back at the ramen shop—the very one that held your tissues. Before you could even voice your dilemma, the door to the restaurant creaked open, and the waiter appeared with not one but two boxes of kleenex.

Katsuki took them with a slight bow of his head, muttering a gruff, “Thanks.” The waiter nodded in silent understanding before slipping back inside, leaving you both with a bit more humanity to cling to.

You grabbed a handful of tissues, blowing your nose loudly and shamelessly. Katsuki wrinkled his nose and pulled back slightly.

“Ew,” he teased, his voice raspy from crying but still laced with playful sarcasm.

You shot him a watery glare. “I’ll wipe it on you,” you threatened, waving the crumpled tissue in his direction.

His lips twitched upward, and he leaned forward. “I’d like to see you try.”

Before you could retaliate, Katsuki snatched a fresh wad of tissues and reached out. His movements were unexpectedly gentle as he dabbed at your tear-streaked face, his fingertips brushing against your skin with surprising care. You stayed still, letting him clean you up, and in that small act of tenderness, something inside you softened.

“You’ve got snot,” he muttered, though there was no bite to his words, only a quiet affection that made your heart ache.

“Don’t push your luck,” you shot back, though the corners of your lips twitched upward for the first time that night.

As the tissues piled up in the small trash can by your side, you found yourself talking. 

Tentative at first, but then with more ease. Katsuki mentioned how he’d been dragged to more gatherings with friends lately, awkward at first but tolerable now. 

You told him about your grandmother’s favorite songs, how the old records still played flawlessly despite their age. He mentioned the get togethers, and you nodded, suggesting he should join in more often—not just as a favor to the others, but because it seemed like he was starting to open up again.

The conversation shifted to the pictures. “I could come by to pick them up,” you offered, though the idea of stepping into his world again made your chest tighten. 

“Or… I could have them delivered if it’s easier.” Katsuki shook his head. “I want you to choose what’s comfortable. No pressure, alright?”

You hesitated, chewing your lip as you weighed your words.

“Honestly? I need some time to… get myself together. This is a lot for both of us.” You glanced down at the tissue box, your fingers toying with the cardboard edge.

“But maybe we could start slow. Like meeting at a park or something? Neutral ground.”

He nodded, his crimson eyes steady on yours. “Yeah. That sounds fair.”

There was a beat of silence, and then his gaze shifted, his hands tightening slightly where they rested on his knees. “It might take a bit, not all the pictures are at my place.”

You frowned, tilting your head. 

“What do you mean?”

He hesitated, his throat working as he swallowed. The streetlamp above cast long shadows across his face, accentuating the strain in his features.

“Most of the stuff... it’s still at the old apartment.”

Your breath caught. The tissues you had been about to use slipped from your fingers and fell to the ground, forgotten.

For a moment, neither of you moved. 

The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy and oppressive. Your heart thudded painfully against your ribs as memories of that place rushed to the surface—the laughter, the arguments, the quiet moments that had once felt like forever.

You looked up at him, and your vision blurred with fresh tears. Katsuki’s jaw clenched, his eyes shimmering as he watched you, waiting for the inevitable.

And then, like a breaking wave, the tears came again.

You sobbed, raw and unrestrained, as the reality of everything hit you all over again. Katsuki reached for you instinctively, pulling you close, and you buried your face in his shoulder. His arms wrapped around you, and this time, neither of you tried to stop the flood.

The world around you faded once more, leaving only the two of you—two broken people trying to find pieces of themselves in the other. 

Eventually, the Kleenex dwindled to nothing, leaving both of you with red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked faces. You tilted back the water bottle, gulping down what remained, and washed down an aspirin with the last drops. Katsuki pushed himself up and offered his hand. 

“C’mon,” he said, voice low but steady. “Let’s hit the store. We’ll grab more for you... and me, too.”

You let him help you to your feet, your hand lingering in his a moment longer than necessary. The chill of winter nipped at your exposed skin as you walked side by side to the convenience store. The silence between you wasn’t awkward or heavy anymore—it was soft and comfortable, filled with the quiet sounds of the city around you. Distant traffic hummed, the occasional bark of a dog, and the rustling of leaves in the wind accompanied your steps.

Inside the store, the bright fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead. The cashier from earlier—a middle-aged woman with kind eyes—gave you a warm smile. “Back so soon?” she teased gently as you approached the counter with Katsuki trailing behind you.

You returned her smile, feeling a little lighter. “Yeah. Ran out of tissues already,” you said with a sheepish laugh.

‘Oh, so you bought tissue’s here earlier,’ he thought to himself.

The two of you exchanged pleasant small talk while Katsuki moved with purpose, gathering tissues, a fresh bottle of water, and whatever else he thought you might need. By the time he joined you at the counter, you’d already struck up an easy rhythm with the cashier, your conversation flowing naturally.

Katsuki set the items on the counter and pulled out his wallet without hesitation. 

“Don’t even think about it,” he muttered, shooting you a sidelong glance when you opened your mouth to protest.

You sighed, knowing better than to argue. This was just who he was. Whether it was an old habit or a remnant of something deeper, Katsuki never let you pay for anything when he was around.

The cashier rang everything up, and as she handed over the bag, the jingle of the entrance bell drew all your attention. You turned to see Izuku, Todoroki, and Kirishima stepping inside, their familiar faces a mix of concern and quiet resolve.

Katsuki stiffened beside you, his focus shifting instantly. But instead of looking at the guys, his eyes stayed on you.

He studied your face—your tired eyes, the faint lines of grief etched into your expression—and for a moment, he seemed lost in thought, his lips parting slightly as if caught in a memory.

'You’re so beautiful.'

Izuku was the first to speak, his voice soft and tentative. “We heard… we just wanted to check on you.”

You offered them a small smile, though it trembled at the edges. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Kirishima, ever the empathetic one, didn’t hesitate to close the distance. His arms wrapped around you in a crushing hug that left you breathless but oddly comforted. Izuku quickly joined, his slightly shorter frame squeezing in from the side, and you felt the warmth of their presence like a balm to your aching soul.

Todoroki hung back slightly, his expression carefully composed. When the others released you, he stepped forward and placed a tentative hand on your shoulder, the gesture understated but no less sincere.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said quietly.

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Can we do anything?” Izuku asked, his green eyes wide with concern.

You hesitated, glancing at Katsuki out of instinct. He was silent, his gaze unreadable, but the weight of his presence steadied you. “I think… I think I’d like a few more get-togethers with everyone,” you said finally, your words measured.

Kirishima grinned, his usual enthusiasm shining through. “We can make that happen! Right, man?”

Izuku nodded eagerly, already starting to brainstorm ideas with Kirishima. Their voices grew more animated as they bounced ideas back and forth, each suggestion more extravagant than the last.

While the two of them planned, Katsuki and Todoroki stood silently to the side. The tension between them wasn’t hostile, it was more like an unspoken understanding, a quiet conversation held without words. Katsuki’s arms were crossed, his eyes narrowing slightly as Todoroki gave him a faint nod, his hand still resting at his side.

You glanced between them, wondering what silent truths they were exchanging, but before you could question it, Kirishima’s booming voice brought your attention back.

“How about a dinner at the plaza? We can rent it out!”

Izuku clapped his hands together. “That’s perfect! We can make it cozy and informal.”

You nodded, a small smile creeping onto your lips. “That sounds nice.”

Katsuki finally broke his silence with a sharp scoff, though the edge of it softened, lacking his usual bite. 

“Idiots,” he muttered, shaking his head as if to distance himself from the animated planning happening behind him.

But there was no venom in his tone—just the faintest trace of amusement buried beneath his gruff exterior. He grabbed the bag from the counter, thrusting it toward you with a slightly awkward motion. 

“Let’s get going,” he said, voice quiet but firm, as if to end the moment before it could grow into something too tender.

You took the bag, your fingers brushing his briefly. “Thanks,” you murmured, offering him a small, tired smile. It wasn’t much, but it was genuine. As you stepped out into the cold night, the air sharp with the crispness of winter, your breath formed tiny clouds in front of you. Katsuki fell into step beside you, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his movements stiff but unhurried.

Katsuki felt a faint flicker of warmth in his chest. Maybe things weren’t completely broken after all.

You’re not friends nor enemies. 

Just strangers with old memories

The sidewalk glowed under the mixture of neon lights from the ramen shop across the street and the warmer, golden hues of the convenience store sign and street lamps. The faint hum of electricity overhead filled the quiet spaces between your steps. You glanced upward, your gaze caught by the clear night sky. 

The stars, scattered and faint, seemed brighter in the winter air.

“They so look different here,” you murmured, almost to yourself. Your head tilted upward, and the soft curve of your profile caught the light, making you look both fragile and unyielding all at once.

Katsuki followed your gaze, his eyes tracing the dark expanse above. The memory hit him like a freight train—the time he took you hiking, how you’d screamed and scared the shit outta him when he unveiled the telescope he’d carried for miles just to surprise you.

He hadn’t forgotten a single detail: The awe in your voice when you saw Saturn’s rings, The way your breath caught when you pointed out constellations he could never remember.

But Katsuki would for you. 

He stole a glance at you out of the corner of his eye, his jaw tightening. You were looking at him, too—quick, fleeting looks that you thought he wouldn’t notice. But he did, and he could tell by the subtle shifts in your expression that you were lost in memories of your own.

You remembered that hike, how he’d guided you up rocky trails with steady hands. You remembered falling asleep on the couch at his parents’ house after coming back worn out, their home so warm and welcoming. 

That Christmas where your Grandma and his Parents decided to blend traditions, just for the two of you. You’d fallen asleep on the floor in front of the tree together that night, and waking up next to him had felt as natural as breathing. And, of course, you couldn’t forget sneaking a kiss under the mistletoe in the UA dorms, his cheeks turning scarlet as he tried to hide his grin.

The weight of those memories pressed down on you both, heavy and bittersweet. You glanced at Katsuki again, and for a fleeting moment, his guarded expression seemed to crack, revealing the exhaustion beneath. 

What had all of this been for? 

Why had you let pain and misunderstandings tear apart something so bright? 

You thought you had an idea, but the truth was too tangled, too layered to fully unravel in a single moment.

“MOM!”

The quiet shattered like glass, the single word slicing through the cold night air.

Every head turned in a different direction, a ripple of alarm spreading through the small group. You were the first to react, your body snapping forward, hunching as if bracing yourself for impact. Katsuki’s sharp eyes locked dead ahead, narrowing with the kind of intensity that made everything else fade to static.

“MOM!”

There it was again. The voice, high-pitched and frantic, pierced the night with urgency. Before anyone else could react, you surged ahead a step, your voice raw and unrestrained as you yelled, 

“WHERE ARE YOU?”

Katsuki froze, his chest tight and unmoving, as if his lungs had forgotten how to draw in air. The world felt too quiet for a second—just long enough to make his skin crawl.

And then he saw her.

Standing right in front of the ramen shop, where the doors had spilled open and your shared friends and classmates were trickling out, was a girl. She couldn’t have been older than 15 or 16. The crisp lines of a UA uniform clung to her small frame, its navy and white colors almost blending into the night. 

In one hand, she clutched a bag of snacks; in the other, a bouquet of flowers that swayed slightly with her every movement.

She was waving, her free hand moving wildly in your direction. Katsuki could barely make her out through the blur of passing cars, headlights painting streaks of yellow and white across the road. 

You were on your tiptoes, hopping slightly to get a better look, a desperation in your movements that tugged at something deep and primal in his chest.

The brat from earlier. 

Todoroki opened his mouth to ask a question, but before the words could leave his lips, the girl moved.

She darted into the street.

The bag and bouquet swung in wild arcs as she sprinted forward, weaving through the maze of cars and trucks. Horns blared, tires screeched, and the headlights seemed to blur into chaos around her.

Your scream tore through the night, so raw and visceral that it carved a jagged wound into the silence. It wasn’t just fear—it was pure, unadulterated terror, and it clawed its way into the hearts of everyone who heard it.

Katsuki flinched, his instincts roaring to life as your scream rattled his very bones. The name you screamed was swallowed by the cacophony of honking horns and screeching tires, but it didn’t matter—he couldn’t let himself freeze. 

Not now.

You were already running.

Without hesitation, you bolted forward, surging into the chaos of headlights and metal.

Katsuki didn’t think—he moved.

His body acted on reflex, launching after you with a speed and force that left the others behind. He barely registered the shouts of protest from Izuku, Kirishima, and Todoroki—

All he could focus on was you.

You, sprinting into the heart of danger, arms outstretched.

The girl was closer now, her face pale and wide-eyed as she froze in the middle of the street, caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. The horn blared, a deafening roar of impending disaster.

Katsuki’s breath caught in his throat as he watched you reach her just in time. The impact was jarring—your body collided with hers, your arms wrapping around her to shield her from the inevitable. 

The truck swerved, tires screeching, but it wasn’t fast enough.

Katsuki reached you both in a split second, his hands grabbing at your arm and the girl’s jacket in one fluid motion.

The force of his grip yanked you back, your combined momentum dragging you all toward the relative safety of the crosswalk. He didn’t stop until you were firmly on the sidewalk, his chest heaving, his heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the world.

This was it.

Katsuki was finally going to have a heart attack.

The girl clung to you, her smaller frame shaking like a leaf in a storm. Your arms stayed locked around her, your face buried in her hair as you whispered something Katsuki couldn’t hear. His sharp gaze scanned you both, his hands still gripping you tightly as if letting go might send you hurtling back into danger.

The others caught up seconds later, their voices a blur of questions and concern, but Katsuki didn’t look at them. His eyes stayed on you, on the way your body trembled, the way your shoulders heaved with ragged breaths.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he barked, his voice rough and trembling with the weight of too many emotions. But there was no anger—only fear, only relief, and something he couldn’t quite name.

You didn’t respond immediately, your focus entirely on the girl in your arms. Slowly, you pulled back, brushing her hair from her face. “Are you okay?” you asked her, your voice soft and cracking.

The girl nodded, her face buried against your shoulder.

Katsuki looked away briefly, his jaw clenching as he tried to steady himself. He could still hear the echo of your scream in his head, could still feel the phantom pull of your arm as he’d dragged you out of the street.

You turned your gaze to him, and for a moment, everything else faded—the noise, the lights, the others. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice full of something he didn’t have the words to name.

Katsuki didn’t reply. 

He didn’t need to. 

The look he gave you said everything.

The girl was giggling, her whole frame trembling with barely-contained mirth. The sound was light and melodic, like a wind chime caught in a playful breeze, but Katsuki’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t sure what he expected—fear, maybe? Tears? Sure. 

Not this bubbling, carefree laughter.

Her face, bright and fresh, carried the same mischievous glint you had when you were busted by your Grandma or Aizawa. Katsuki knew that expression all too well—the barely contained smugness of someone who knew they were in trouble but didn’t care enough to stop. 

Katsuki couldn’t stop staring. 

You glanced down at the girl as her giggles finally started to subside, and her mischievous grin turned into something softer as she looked up at you. You ruffled her braids gently, your fingers lingering on the dip-dyed tips. 

The two of you looked almost like twins under the glow of the streetlights—same face, same posture, even the same teasing glint in your expressions. 

But then there were the eyes. 

Yours held warmth and wisdom, tempered by years of struggles and triumphs. Hers burned like twin embers under the golden street lights, sharp and unrelenting, filled with the boundless energy of youth.

The resemblance between you two was uncanny. It wasn’t just the shared features; it was the way you both carried yourselves, that same blend of confidence and playfulness. The way her grin mirrored yours, the slight tilt of her head, even the way she gestured with her hands—it was like watching a younger version of you.

It wasn’t just Katsuki who noticed. 

Kirishima, normally composed, was now openly gawking. 

His gaze darted between the girl and you, his eyes wide with disbelief. Slowly, he leaned in closer, shamelessly studying her face, then yours, before stumbling backward with all the grace of a falling tree.

“Whoa, wait—uh, hold up—!” Kirishima stammered, tripping over his own feet and landing with a loud thud on the pavement.

“Careful!” Izuku hurried to help him up, his hands fluttering around like he wasn’t sure where to grab.

You didn’t look fazed. If anything, you looked exasperated, your brow furrowing as you squished the girl’s cheeks together with both hands. 

“I told you to stop doing that,” you said, your voice dripping with mock scolding.

The girl’s laughter only grew louder, muffled by your hands pressing into her cheeks. Her red eyes sparkled with amusement as she struggled to hold up the bouquet of flowers she carried. 

“But it’s funny!” she managed to mumble through puffed lips.

Katsuki stood frozen, his brain short-circuiting as he stared. 

His eyes flicked between you and the girl, searching for the logical explanation he knew wouldn’t come. The sight of her presenting the flowers with a beaming grin while you calmly handed him his flowers back like it was nothing—it was too much. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, threatening to boil over.

Todoroki, for his part, was eerily silent, his eyes wide and fixed on the girl. His hand moved up slightly, as if to point, before it fell back to his side. Izuku, on the other hand, looked like he was trying to process several layers of information all at once.

His lips parted, but no sound came out.

“Flowers, huh?” you murmured, turning your attention back to the bouquet. Katsuki watched as your fingers ran along the petals, inspecting them with the same care he’d seen you use a hundred times before. Only now, there was an almost maternal softness to it, like you were reading the story written in every delicate fold.

The girl stood taller under your scrutiny, her grin unwavering despite your gentle rebuke. “I picked them out  myself!” she said proudly, her voice lilting with excitement.

You glanced over her head to toe, your hands moving with practiced ease. Your fingers trailed over the ends of her dip-dyed braids, and Katsuki’s breath hitched. He hadn’t noticed it before, but now it was impossible to miss—

The matching dip-dyed ends of your braids.

“Wash day is gonna be fun,” you said, a wry smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

The girl whined, tilting her head back dramatically. “It’s sooo booooorinnnng,” she groaned, drawing out the words like a petulant child. Katsuki watched as you gave the girl a light pinch and she squealed before standing up straight.

You chuckled, shaking your head before pulling her into a warm hug. “You’re not off the hook,” you murmured against her hair, your voice affectionate but firm.

The girl pouted but clung to you anyway, wrapping her arms tightly around your neck. Katsuki couldn’t look away. There, in the bright glow of the streetlights and neon signs, he burned the image into his memory.

The way you smiled, the girl’s arms around you, the quiet joy in your expression.

As you helped her stand up fully from the pavement, brushing dirt off her skirt, you looked down at her with a mock sternness. “We’re talking about this later.”

The girl just giggled again, sticking her tongue out playfully. “Fine, fine,” she said before glancing around at the group of stunned heroes. 

“Hi, everyone!”

Kirishima, finally back on his feet thanks to Izuku, blinked owlishly before managing a weak wave. “Uh… hey?”

Todoroki tilted his head slightly. “Is she…?”

“Yeah,” 

Katsuki cut in, his voice strained. 

“She is.”

“What’s your name?” Izuku asked softly, his wide green eyes flickering between you and the girl. You looked at the girl, who gave you a big grin and nodded.

“This is Asuna Hikari,” you said simply, your voice carrying a quiet weight. 

“My daughter.”

And just like that, Katsuki felt the ground shift beneath him.

I swear I can't just write a simple one shot.

How we feeling chat?

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie, @bunny-b34r,@v3n7s, icey-wonders, @adherethecomingofage, @karaartioli-blog, @meoweoeoeosme

Lemme know if you wanna be added to the list!

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have some more Katsuki (and other mha) here in the master list.

Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[arandomyuikomorifan]

Moment when the diabolik boys ate yui up💔(more blood route all credit go to dialovers-translations) if you want a Mukamis version let me know!

Shuu: What’s that…? Got any complaints you’d like to share?

Yui: Not really but…I just thought that maybe you could be a little more…

Shuu: A little more…What?

Yui: Responsive, for example…

Shuu: Why do I have to bother chit-chatting with you?

Unfortunately for you, I have no interest in ‘charity work’. 

Yui: ( Charity work? What a way to put it… )

Reiji:

Reiji: Hooh. You are beaming with confidence, it seems.

If you say that much, I suppose I’ll have a taste.

Yui: Y-Yes! I’ll have it ready for you in a sec!

( It turned out quite well. I hope he’ll enjoy it. )

( I hope this can be some sort of trigger to him opening up a little more to me… )

ー The scene shifts to the dining room

Yui: It’s ready. Here you go…

Reiji: Well then, let me have a taste.

*Cling*

Reiji: Hm…

Yui: H-How is it?

Reiji: …

*Cling*

Reiji: To put it frankly, it’s disgusting. I would not dare call this edible.

Yui: No way…!

( Did I make a mistake somewhere…? I’ll try it myself as well. )

Ayato:

ー She looks inside his room

Ayato: …Kuh…Haah…

Yui: ( Ayato-kun…? )

Ayato: Aah…? Who’s there…? 

Yui: U-Uhm…

Ayato: The fuck? You…? Che…

Yui: ( His complexion really does look pale… )

Ayato: Haha…First you run away from me, but now what do you want, huh?

Yui: You see…I heard you weren’t feeling well, so I was wondering if you were okay…

Ayato: Haah? The fuck’s that reasoning? Are you stupid? …Haha…

Don’t just waltz in if you don’t even have the intention to gimme your blood…

Laito:

Laito: Who knows? I’ll leave that up to your imagination.

I feel like you might just turn bright red from embarrassment if I tell you the truth.

Yui: …

( Which means he’s really been standing there the whole time…! )

Laito: That being said, you’re a bit slow in your development, aren’t you?

No wonder Ayato-kun calls you that.

Yui: T-That’s none of your business!

I’m gonna sleep now…So you should return to your room as well!

kanato:

Yui: ( Haah~ Finally home. )

( It suddenly started raining. On top of that, an unforgiving downpour… )

( Because of that, I’m soaked to the bone. )

Kanato: Yui-san, welcome back.

…Care explain your miserable appearance?

You already are painful on the eyes as is, but right now, you are truly beyond all hope.

Yui: ( Uu…This one is merciless (1) as well, rubbing salt in the wound like that… )

Subaru:

ー Subaru enters the room.

Subaru: …

Yui: Ah, Subaru-kun, good morning.

Subaru: …

Yui: Are you here to grab something to eat?

Subaru: …

Yui: ( Huh? Did he not hear me, perhaps? )

Subaru-kun?

Subaru: …Why are you just casually going about your day?

Yui: Eh…?

Subaru: I’m pissed off ‘cause I had to see your dumb face first thing in the morning.

Yui: That’s just too cruel…I just…

Subaru: Just, what? …Huh?

ー

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 9

I know I keep saying this but I think I'm starting to wrap it up. By my current calculations I have about 3 more chapters to write (as always I have several chapters backlogged). That could go up of course, but that's the way it appears to be going at the moment.

In this chapter we have the first of their three "dates" and Eddie and Steve get personal.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

Heads up for sexy times, I would tell you where, but it's intermixed with a lot of conversation. Sorry.

****

Steve had never been nervous before a roleplay before. Not even his very first one. Of course that had been the homemaker one, and he thrived on them originally.

He had worn the dress as requested, but changed up the accessories. He went for simple pearl earrings and necklace. Nothing on his wrists, they would only cause problems later.

He leaned up against the bar, nursing his drink as he scanned the crowd. The thing about rolyplays was that you didn’t know exactly when the client would show up, just a ballpark figure.

Robin was on hand this time to scare off any assholes who thought that an escort was fair game whether or not they were on the clock or not.

She had already headed off three of these douchebags already and was in the process of heading off a fourth when another one breezed past her to head straight for Steve.

She was about dump ice down this alpha’s dress if she didn’t get out of her way so she could get her omega, when the woman saw the fifth alpha trying to chat Steve up.

She threw her arms in the air and stormed off, cursing Robin in at least three different languages.

Robin turned her attention to Steve, but smiled at the scene instead. Eddie Munson had arrived and Steve and he were eviscerating the asshole alpha for horning in on their date.

So she moved to sit in a nearby booth to watch them.

****

Eddie bristled when he arrived to see that Robin was having a hard time fending off alphas trying to get to Steve.

God, Steve.

Eddie had thought the man was beautiful in the glamour of his own home, but here, under the soft lights of the hotel bar, he looked like a goddess and Eddie was down to worship.

He strolled right up and slipped his arm around Steve’s waist. “Hello, darlin’. I’m sorry I’m late.”

Steve’s omega immediately preened at the attention. “I’m just glad you’re here now.”

The other alpha was a forty year old man who looked like he had more money than sense.

Eddie looked him up and down. “Shoo.”

The man sneered. “You really think that someone like you could handle an omega like that? Don’t make me laugh.”

Steve rolled his eyes, tugging on his earring. “Well considering he paid for the privilege and you didn’t, I’d fuck off before I call security.”

The man pulled himself up to full height and was scenting rage, but before he could even make a move, Xander was towering behind the guy and Robin put her hand one his chest.

Steve had signaled her when he tugged on his left earring and both his handler and driver were there for there intercept before things got really ugly.

As Xander and hotel security hauled him out, he started screaming cuss words and calling Steve all sorts of names.

Eddie winced. “Not how I wanted to start our date, sweetheart.”

Steve rubbed his nose along Eddie’s scent gland. “I don’t know, I found it hot the way you swooped in for the rescue.”

Eddie smirked. “Did you now?”

Steve bit his lip and looked down to glance up at him through his eyelashes. “Of course you did, baby. I’m such a lucky omega.”

Eddie’s alpha growled low and deep and it forced its way out of his throat. “You’re looking pretty hot yourself, Stevie.” His hand slid to press on Steve’s lower back and pulled the omega flush against his chest. “What’s your pleasure?” He nodded to the glass still in Steve’s hand.

Steve dragged his hips side to side, rubbing their clothed cocks together, but before Eddie could do anything than moan, Steve stepped away from the alpha and asked for a bottle of their best whiskey to share.

Eddie sat down on the barstool next to him and they talked. With each passing moment as the alcohol hit his system, Steve was getting warmer. He could feel the heat between his legs. He crossed them to try and tame the desire that was pulsating through his very core.

Eddie licked his lips and his mouth went dry. He downed the rest of his glass and threw money on the bar top.

“Keep the change,” he growled, not even glancing to see how much he had dropped, but judging from Steve’s impressed expression it was probably a lot.

Eddie grabbed Steve’s wrist and they were off running for the elevators. Eddie pressed the up button and then pulled Steve close to kiss him deeply.

The elevator bell dinged and Steve pushed him away to dash into the open doors. Eddie gave chase and swung Steve around, bring him back to his orbit, barely hitting the right floor as he drank in Steve’s kisses.

Again the elevator bell dinged and the doors swung open again and they ran out, hand in hand.

Steve giggled as Eddie struggled to get the key card out of his pants and finally let them into the hotel suite.

Eddie got his hands under the slits in the dress, feeling up Steve’s thighs. “God, baby. I could eat you all up.”

Steve smiled but pushed back. He took a couple steps back, putting more distance between them. Once he was far enough back that Eddie would get the full effect, Steve reached up and undid the clasp on his dress.

And as described the dress flowed like a waterfall to ground.

Eddie gaped as he stood there in his just thong and shoes. “Fuck. That was even sexier than it was in my head.”

He got close enough to extend his hand to help Steve step away from the folds of the dress pooling at his ankles and right into Eddie’s arms.

Eddie kissed him like he was drowning and Steve was his salvation.

Steve was dizzy with want. There were a few alphas in his past that he had had crushes on or even developed feelings for, but they were nothing compared to the sheer want of being with Eddie.

“Yes, alpha,” he murmured. “Take what you want.”

Eddie let out a low growl that came from his chest and Steve’s omega fucking chirped back. But before the embarrassment could over take Steve for having broken through his professionalism again for this man, Eddie was sweeping Steve off his feet and carrying him bridal style to the bed.

Eddie carefully set him down and then made quick work of taking off Steve’s shoes. Now all he was wearing was his matching gold thong and looking up at Eddie with hooded eyes.

“Fuck, Stevie,” Eddie purred. “You look good enough to eat.”

Steve let out a delight laugh. “So you’ve said, so you gonna do something about it?”

Eddie licked the top row of his teeth, bring attention to sharp canine teeth that alphas were famous for. Gotta break the skin for that bond bite, you know?

Steve giggled hysterically and slapped a hand over his mouth. He blushed a dark red. A red that seemed to reach his nipples and the tips of his ears.

Eddie gently pulled his hand away from his mouth. “It’s alright to giggle, darlin’. It was cute.”

He kissed the inside of Steve’s wrist and suddenly the shame gave way to arousal. Steve moaned.

“That’s it, baby,” Eddie whispered, “I want to hear every delicious sound you make.” He slid off the panties and tossed them to the side.

Steve threw back his head and nearly jack knifed off the bed, crying out in pleasure when Eddie buried his head right between Steve’s legs.

Steve thought for sure Eddie would go for his cock. Every alpha Steve had been with had. Steve was well endowed for even a beta. He could never measure up to an alpha cock, as they were massive by design to be able to form a knot, but Steve had nothing to scoff at.

But, no. Eddie went straight for Steve’s pussy, licking and sucking the folds of his omegahood.

“Eddie!” Steve cried. “Oh god! That feels so good.”

Eddie nipped gently on the inside of Steve’s thigh. “What’s the matter, gorgeous, no one eat you out before?”

Steve shook his head, biting down on his lip in humiliation.

Eddie’s head snapped up in shock. “Wait, really?”

“It’s my job to take care of the alpha,” Steve murmured, “no one’s taken care of me before.”

Eddie sat up and looked him right in the eye. “What do you do for your heats?”

Steve struggled to sit up and Eddie let him. He wrapped his arms around his knees. “We aren’t allowed to share them with alphas.” He cocked his head to the side. “Not normally anyway. Only the highest of the high elite know that heats can be bought through the agency, but they’re are deliberately prohibitively high.”

Eddie licked his lips as another piece of the puzzle that was this beautiful omega fell into place.

“Like how high are we talking about?”

Steve scratched his cheek. “Depends on the omega really.”

Eddie snorted. “I meant you specifically, sweetheart.”

“Well, last time someone asked it was quoted at five million,” he replied with a wince, “but that was a couple of years ago, it’s probably twice that now.”

“I’m guessing he didn’t have the money?” Eddie asked rubbing his chin.

Steve scoffed. “She and no, she didn’t. She protested so hotly that Starcourt banned her for life.”

“That’s a really short list to be on,” he said, whistling long and low. “That must have been one hell of a hornets’ nest she kicked.”

“You wouldn’t have heard anything about it,” Steve mumbled. “Starcourt takes the lives of their omegas very seriously. They were able to buy off the press and force her into fringe media to make her look hysterical. It went so far under the radar that most people don’t even remember her.”

Eddie tugged on Steve’s legs until he was stretched out on the bed again. “Change of track. I was going to give you the most mind blowing, heat searing sex imaginable, but now I’m going worship every inch of your skin like you should be.”

Steve covered his face with his hands in embarrassment, behind them he could hear Eddie undress. Then the bed sank with the weight of Eddie as peeled Steve’s hands away from his face.

“No hiding, baby,” he murmured into Steve’s ear. “I want to see all of you.”

Steve let out a low shuddering breath and then nodded. “Yes, alpha.”

“Good boy,” Eddie said softly against his lips before sealing them with a kiss.

It was gentle and warm and Steve absolutely melted with it. Eddie moved from his lips to his jaw to the two little moles just under his chin. He hovered over Steve’s scent gland.

“Can I scent you, Stevie?” he muttered, voice thick with want.

Steve’s hips canted up seeking friction. “Yes, Eds. Please!”

Eddie pulled his head up to look at him in the eyes. “Eds, huh? I like it.” He bent back over the scent gland and licked along its length, causing Steve to shiver.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed. “Look at how responsive you are when someone takes care of you. You’re positively aching for it, aren’t you?”

Steve nodded. “Please, Eds, I need you.”

“And how could I possibly say no to such a pretty request.”

Eddie pulled off his clothes and slid on a condom, then proceeded to make the night about Steve’s pleasure. Working every inch of his body like he was playing guitar.

Steve isn’t even sure how many times he came that night, but he was damn sure it was a personal record.

As they laid in bed together afterwards, condom disposed of, Eddie asked, “How come you switch between my name and calling me alpha?”

Steve blushed deeply. “Technically I’m not supposed to use a client’s name when I’m on a job, just ‘alpha’.”

“To keep impersonal?” Eddie guessed, wrapping Steve up into his arms and pressing a kiss on his jaw.

Steve hummed. “Yeah, but you keep breaking through my professional exterior to my gooey center.”

Eddie chuckled, nosing Steve’s scent gland. “You won’t get into trouble, will you?”

“No,” Steve said, amusement coloring his tone, making it light and airy. “And if they do say something, I’ll just tell them that since I’m pretending to be your boyfriend for the next three months, I can’t go around calling you ‘alpha’. How weird would that be?”

Eddie just nodded. “When do you have to leave?”

Steve turned in his arms so that they faced each other. “Usually, I’d slip out once you’re asleep–”

“You do what now?!” Eddie squawked, outraged.

Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s for our safety. Too often alphas will get possessive if we stay the night, thinking there was more to it than a simple transaction.”

“Oh.”

Eddie hadn’t thought about it that way. He was only thinking about how the alpha would feel. But that was meaningless. It didn’t matter how they felt, because as Steve pointed out, it was only a transaction.

“Yeah,” Steve said with a shrug. “But seeing as tonight was to set up us as ‘dating’ staying the night is kinda the point.”

“Sounds good, darlin’,” Eddie murmured, settling into fall asleep.

Steve watched as his breath evened out and his eyes fluttered close.

Now all he had to do is figure out how to prevent his heart from shattering into a billion pieces when they ‘broke up’ in three months.

****

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @demolvr @ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @slowandsteddie @r0binscript @alyelf @melodymeddler @mogami13

[un-pearable]

internally: decent movie. more tolerable than the previous for most parts. rewatchable. FINALLY has a soundtrack that sounds like sonic and DOESNT have gratuitous plot-irrelevant human scenes. sonic gets to do sonic stuff!!!!! characterization makes sense given previous movies and (very slightly) nudges him towards something potentially interesting. not inventive AT ALL (missing everything intriguing about SA2) but could be worse

externally: while some lore omissions make sense given the world established by the previous films, those choices are boring and others they make are completely baffling changes. rouge omission harms the whole thing. i dislike the entire direction they’ve taken with their sonic characterization and the themes and they fundamentally miss key traits for everyone involved . why did we do this. what was the point

it’s fun. more consistently enjoyable than the previous but that’s mostly bc the scenes that bothered me with the aggressive Carryness had tails in them so i could just watch him be cute.

lore change to make him another mystery alien is annoying but frustratingly makes sense given the context. i’m not torn up over it <- don’t care about shadow and didn’t expect much going in . the missing part of maria’s story is ridiculous though (why is she just there??????)

i love herrrr i love her 70s energy and outfits and i will incorporate the roller skates. its soooo cute . the godzilla movie with the biolizard is pretty funny but that’ll totally piss off diehards. i do think they do good job of showing shadow + maria as friends and why he cares so much about her but that’s mainly just the scope of a film vs a video game

COWARDS THOUGH . SAYING “THEYRE CHILDREN” ON SCREEN TO INTERRUPT A SHOT-FOR-SHOT RECREATION OF HER DEATH??? THATS THE POINT. SHES A CHILD. ITS A TRAGEDYY

the shots directly from the shadow 2005 intro…. unbelievable . hilarious

akira bike slide ON VERTICAL BUILDING is cool i’m here for it

low budget flight and actual sonic-esque music…. i accept my crumbs

knuckles is lame. literally stolen joke from sonic boom w the team knuckles stuff. i wanted him to fight sonic over the ME so bad

the wade reveal is physically painful like i knew it happened in the show but he sucks sucks and right after the only satisfying scene w the humans (shadow fuckin up tom) . ME you deserve betterrrrr

torn on the overall message. i think it’s a more coherent film than the last two and the message isn’t terrible - it aligns with sonic’s overall freedom and choice vibes. but having shadow be a tag along to eggman’s schemes is a weird choice given he was pretty explicitly the one who wanted to . yknow. blow up the earth in the first place and just gave eggman the tools in SA2. this version takes a lot of agency out of his story bc gerald is here. which is weird since the whole explicit theme is choices!!

fucking gerald. can i kill someone. mr carrey i hate him

extremely dragon ball combat. which is fine but unexciting . WHERE the fuck did the emeralds go at the end they just??? gone??? they detransform and (incorrectly) sonic falls out of super and shadow dies but the emeralds flat out do not appear in the film again after they initially transform . what happened

FINALLY giving us a heart to heart AND live and learn for the fight ONLY TO CUT AWAY TO TWO MINUTES OF CARREY SHENANIGANS. illegal . egregious. im glad he’s dead

the shift from sonic having to inspire shadow to be better and move onto his past to . shadow pulling a ‘you’re just like me’ is lame. hello again scourge .

like it’s a logical change especially given the target audience and the kind of stories that are popular rn but it’s sooo less interesting than SA2’s thing

shadow being confronted by sonic bc he challenges his belief of being exceptional and makes him reconsider what it’s possible to be -> shadow being sonic’s narrative parallel bc they both had one (1) human they liked who they would do anything for

^^^ it’s bad. not unwatchable like sonic 1 but bad change. makes sense for this established universe tho so i get it

tails is great . colleen should be paid more

WAIT THINKING ABOUT LIVE & LEARN AGAIN. I CANT FUCKIN BELIEVE IT at least they had the music still playing when they cut back to the fight scene but that bullshit w the egged men. torture

yay shadow dead!!!!! no that final endcredit didn’t happen

the moon shot was cool. sadly now sonadow fans will claim the moon <- IT WAS SONKNUX TERRITORY FIRST

rouge would have made this film 1000000000% better

why so many metal sonic???????? hi amy

at least she’s cute i’ve seen so many bad edits since 2020 at least she’s cute. i’m intrigued w the cloak choice what’s going on here. just to hide the outfit so they can change it? reference? hmm

fascinating implication for whatever 4 is going to be. in my heart carreybotnik stays dead and we get a pseudo heroes where metal is pretending to be him. but alas i fear the family focus for eggman in this film is leading up to. him making metal sonic and treating him as his kid. which could be fucked up in fun ways but i’m so tired of carreyisms

they did say 2027 though which is an extra year than the last two got…. what are you budgeting guys

why oh why is shadow consistently the only character who gets any emotional arcs or storytelling it taunts me…. can’t even hate the guy bc he’s the only one with interesting stories . this story sucks and it’s still better than what knux got . orz

sayonara shadow the hedgehog

[vorfreudevortex]

2. SHDW1

a street racer!ino takuma x f!reader fic

redline masterlist // previous: chapter 1 // next: chapter 3

warnings // 6k words - swearing, alcohol, smoking, reckless driving (duh), all characters in college or recently graduated, mount hakone's details are not accurate for the sake of the story so pls don't try to clown me for it, fighting and arguing, mentions of weapons, club scene, dancing/grinding bc it’s canon to me that ino is a fantastic dancer

✰ // the cars and the reader’s appearance in this fic are purposely kept ambiguous so you are free to have aspects look, feel, and be modified any way you’d like.

the vibes for chapter two

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

your body buzzes.

there was quite a crowd at the top of mount hakone. cars line the shoulder of the straight, all modified to hell and back. other teams, car fanatics, and random onlookers stood by; bumping music, smoking and drinking, and getting loose before the race started. it was mostly men, but gorgeous girls in their shortest skirts were mixed in, just wanting to have fun with expensive cars and free drinks on the weekend. you watched from afar as their music and chatter floated up into the stars.

“where the hell is this guy?” satoru whines. suguru's idling nsx is parked in the right lane of the road, just before the starting line. the five of you stand beside the warm motor, letting suguru and shoko's cigarette smoke waft through your hair. the guy who wanted to race your brother still hadn’t shown his face.

you and shoko had gotten ready for the race together, showing off your latest streetwear was always the thing to do at these events. you couldn’t help but don your tightest black corset, a leather skirt and knee-high platform boots. shoko had let you borrow a funky-patterned oversized jacket to wear when the dark mountain air got too cold, while she chose bright red jeans and a blue top.

the boys looked just as handsome. satoru wore loose jeans and a graphic tee, kento with tapered trousers, a linen button up and crisp sneakers, and suguru with an all black ensemble of cargo pants and a hoodie.

“he must’ve pussied out,” suguru says, crushing his finished cigarette into the crunchy gray asphalt.

“we’ll have to find a replacement if he doesn’t show,” kento grunts.

“it’s been 15 minutes, i don’t think he’s coming,” shoko rolls her eyes while smoke puffs out of her glossed lips.

getting bored, you lean dramatically into satoru's arm. “this suuucks! i just wanna see someone race.”

“well,” satoru giggles and ruffles your hair. “we can’t keep clutch waiting around. let’s find someone else.”

the five of you walk over to the shoulder, where the crowd is growing more anxious by the second. they look at your brother expectantly, and whispers of the man who bailed float around.

“looks like he’s not showing up,” suguru announces. “who wants to go?”

the crowd quiets to a murmur, everyone turning heads and waiting for someone to volunteer.

“i'll race you.”

you look up to see the black-haired boy from earlier today, the one that was next to ino. his face holds no expression and his hands are buried in his pockets. he looks like he couldn’t give less of a fuck. his stoic eyes and strong jaw reminds you of someone, but you can’t begin to place who.

“alright, fushiguro,” your brother nods. “let’s go.”

oh, fushiguro? you had no idea he had a son. no— he goes by zenin, right? you recall the exciting stories your dad would tell you as a kid of his past thrilling nights and rivalries. zenin was one of them; you had seen occasional glimpses of him in the garage during visits as a child. he was an absolutely terrifying man, with a prominent scar on his mouth from a bad wreck in his youth.

“two things before we start,” fushiguro says, and your brother pauses. you spot ino, and behind him the tattooed man and the pink-haired boy, as well as another guy with a bun in his hair. you make brief eye contact and your heart flutters, before tearing your attention back to your brother.

“first, i'm racing for pinks tonight,” fushiguro states, and a few whistles come from the onlookers. “and my dad’s here tonight. so no bullshit.” he gestures to his side, but you can’t spot his father in the crowd.

“there’s never bullshit,” suguru scoffs. “racing for pinks? fine. your r34 will cry in relief when i finally get behind the wheel of that thing.”

the jab doesn’t stick for you and your unfamiliarity of the shadows’ racing style, but the onlookers snicker as they know that fushiguro is a notoriously aggressive driver and runs through cars and tires faster than anyone here tonight. he doesn’t respond to your brother, but leaves to pull his car up to the starting line. suguru revs his engine to make sure its warmed up, it purrs and pulls in place.

satoru and kento send him off with handshakes and pats before heading to their own vehicles to different markers along the pass. there will be someone posted at each mile with a radio to update the listening crowd on the race, as well as warn the drivers and audience of any hazards or police as they make their way down the line. you stick your head through suguru's open window.

“drive safe, sugu,” you smile, pressing a small peck to his cheek.

“don’t worry ‘bout me, clutch,” he smiles, not a single nervous bone in his body. “when i get his r34, i'll let you have it.”

you and shoko stand off to the side as the flag girl settles between suguru and fushiguro’s cars, raising her arms. the paints glitter under the moonlight and stars, trembling over their hot engines as they start to burnout at the countdown, prepping their tires and getting them sticky. your heart starts to pound once more, the anticipation and stakes of the race are almost too much to handle. her arms fly downwards, and the race begins.

the two cars peel away from the line, the rubber screeching out and making your ears ring. you let out cheers and shouts alongside the crowd as your brother flies deep into the forest, motors screaming as they echo through the mountainside and disappear.

“phantoms start in the lead,” you hear the pager crackle and boom from a nearby stereo system.

the crowd fizzles a bit, most of them turning back to conversations and liquor bottles while the race fanatics gather closer to the stereo, you along with them.

“i’m gonna go catch up with some friends,” shoko says, motioning towards a group of rowdy girls across the road. “you wanna come with, or stay and listen to the race?”

“i’ll stay,” you respond. “but go on ahead! i’ll see you in a bit.”

you wave her off and take a seat on a rounded post that supported the road’s guardrail, just a few feet behind the crowd bunched around the stereo.

“mile 1, phantoms in the lead,” you hear kento’s voice over the speaker.

“hey!”

your head turns, eyes landing on ino. he stands before you with that same sweet smile.

“oh, hi!” you smile. “thanks again for the pictures, ino-san.”

“it’s no big deal, i’m glad you liked them.”

“so,” you shift in your seat. “you didn’t wanna race my brother tonight, huh?”

“not tonight. i’m still getting my baby tuned just right after some new tires. your brother isn’t easy to race, but i guess megumi wanted the smoke tonight,” he jokes.

“there’s no way suguru would give up his car so easily,” it’s your turn to tease again. “it’s a good thing he won’t lose.”

ino laughs, the handsome sound making the tips of your ears turn hot. “well, megumi won’t give up any easier. so i guess we’ll just have to see what happens.”

“mile 2, shadows in the lead,” and the listeners chatter at the update.

“you know, for someone who’s never passed through mount hakone, you had a pretty quick time this morning,” he steps closer to you. “your brother must’ve taught you well.”

“he keeps me calm,” you nod. “but my time wasn’t that impressive. i think i've just had some good practice swinging around intersections back home.”

“mile 3, phantoms in the lead,” the speaker crackles again. you glance up at ino after the announcement and he sheepishly smiles.

“looks like it’s gonna be a close one,” he shrugs. “well, no matter the outcome… uh—”

he clears his throat. “—we're all gonna hang out at the underground after the race. you should come!”

“the underground?”

“it’s a club in shibuya we usually go to. it’ll just be my boys and a few other close friends meeting up there.” the dim floodlights fail to hide the light shade of pink that tinges ino’s cheeks. your stomach flips at his offer, heart pounding. your fingers twitch.

“oh, i don’t think my brother would like that very much,” you giggle nervously, your own cheeks turning red. “but thanks so much for inviting me!”

“no worries… i better leave you alone before someone rats me out,” he grins. “uh, text me, yeah?”

“mile 4, shadows in the lead.”

you politely nod. “see you around!”

“for sure,” ino takes two steps away from you before he turns back around. “by the way, you look beautiful tonight, y/n.”

he’s gone before you can even process it.

✰✰✰✰✰

takuma ino has great timing, because no less than 5 minutes after he disappears, you spot satoru’s and kento’s tall mess of light hairs bobbing through the crowd. they’ve done their jobs and have made their way back up the mountain to wait for suguru to cross the line once more. blue eyes meet yours and he waves with a smile as he guides kento to you.

“suguru’s got this one in the bag,” he reassures, patting your head like a dog.

“ugh, don’t do that, toru!”

“why?” he brings his face closer to yours. “tryna look pretty for someone, hm?”

“quit, satoru,” kento huffs.

“no,” you reply. “most girls don’t like when their hair gets fucked up after spending so long on it. you should know that better than anyone.”

satoru feigns a gasp, as if he doesn’t see a different girl every weekend. “are you calling me a slut?”

“well i’m not saying you’re a virgin.”

“jesus, stop it,” kento says.

“mile 7, shadows in the lead.”

“they’ve been going back and forth all night,” you point out over the chatter. “suguru will be upset if he has to give up his keys to that boy.”

“he’d kill someone before allowing that to happen,” kento reassures, but it doesn’t sound comforting to you. 

suguru is one of the most relaxed people you know, even his angry words aren’t loud. but he has a kill switch, and there’s nothing scarier than your brother when his temper is lost. you’ve only experienced it twice before, but each incident had left your younger self frozen in fear when his voice and hands would finally raise towards someone. suguru doesn’t fight often, but when he does, his hard fists always land.

“toru, is this fushiguro from the same family as papa’s friend?” you ask. you start to hear the racing motors tearing through the pass, creeping closer and closer. “i thought he went by zenin before.”

“it’s his kid,” he nods, propping a cigarette between his lips. “your papa used to race with him, but he got married and had a kid so his wife made him stop.”

“he took his wife’s last name,” kento adds, the explanation allows the floating information to click together inside your brain. satoru digs in his pockets.

he hands satoru a lighter. kento hates that all of his friends smoke, but gave up trying to convince them to quit a long time ago. you suspect he keeps a lighter in his pocket for when they forget one.

“mile 8, shadows still in the lead.”

“fuck, let’s go,” satoru grabs your arm as he realizes the two are in the last 1/2 mile stretch of the race. kento follows close behind as you’re pulled through an anxious crowd towards the finish line. your blood runs hot as you see the headlights of the cars come around the corner, piercing the mountain’s darkness like a knife.

you recognize suguru’s headlights as the ones in front as they continue to fight for control of the road. you sigh in relief. the cars are a blur as they fly over the finish line, suguru only a few feet ahead of fushiguro. you don’t think much of how close the race was, the crowd cheers and you go pushing between satoru and kento to run towards your brother, stomach twirling in excitement. a few others do the same as the boys slam on their brakes, sending their cars swinging sideways to skid into an abrupt stop haphazardly in the middle of the road.

suguru leaps out of his seat and slams the door behind him, hard. 

oh?

“what the FUCK?!”

you slow your jog as your eyes widen, barely recognizing his roaring voice as cuts into the air. megumi exits his car as well, planting his feet on the warm concrete with tense shoulders and furrowed brows. suguru rushes over to the boy, sweat dripping down his temple from the adrenaline of the pass with fists clenched. you can see the white of his knuckles. his dark hair, which he had pulled into a neat bun, was now a loose and frizzy mess. you come to a stop with heavy breathe, no more than 10 feet away from them.

“you tryna fucking kill me, fushiguro?!”

“shut the fuck up, geto!”

“don’t fucking play with me right now!”

a hand clamps down on your shoulder, jolting you back. you look up and see satoru, his blue eyes wild and serious. your gaze drops down to where his hand rests on the front of his waistband, allowing a rectangular form to be seen through his shirt. 

whoa. since when did satoru own a gun?

“y/n. stay. back.”

you barely hear his snappy command over your racing thoughts. you’re stuck to the concrete, feet unable to move. satoru runs over to suguru and suddenly kento is there as well, latching onto suguru’s shirt with a tight grip. ino appears with the black-haired guy with face tattoos and the broad-shouldered man-bun behind him, all of them hot in the face.

“why the fuck are you driving like that, huh?!” your brother screams, pulling closer and closer to fushiguro. you can only watch the ugly scene in front of you as your stomach flips over on itself. suguru doesn't talk like this to anyone for anything, you know he's teetering over the edge of going absolutely ballistic. “just say you want me dead, just say it, pussy!”

“fuck you!” fushiguro yells back. “it doesn't matter anymore, you won. just take my damn car!”

“i don’t want your fuckass car!”

“suguru, calm down,” kento demands harshly.

“get back, geto,” ino steps in. “this is fucking stupid.”

those were not the right words to say as all the boys are face to face, and suguru lunges towards him. satoru pulls your brother back again before stepping in front of him, the man with a bun shoves into his shoulder. satoru’s pointer finger reaches over and digs into takuma’s chest.

“you don’t want this shit, ino” he hisses into ino’s face. “just leave.”

“i’m not scared of you guys,” takuma asserts, grabbing satoru hand and snatching it away from himself.

“teach your boy some fucking respect,” suguru spits. “he claimed ‘no bullshit’ but you didn’t see the way he was pushing me around back there.”

“i wanted to race, so i raced, dickhead,” fushiguro retorts.

“only your dumbass would call that racing.”

a large, calloused hand comes to rest on your nape, sending chills down your spine.

“geto.”

you aren’t sure if the deep, gruff voice is referring to you or your brother. the boys whip their heads around. when you look up at the sound, you recognize him immediately. toji fushiguro looks down at you from his towering stance, a sly smirk on his scarred lips. his messy, flat black hair casts a shadow over his eyes, making his gaze more menacing.

“please don’t touch me,” your meek voice finally finds words, barely above a whisper. although toji fushiguro’s touch is light, your instinct tells you to step away and your body moves on its own, the man lets his hand fall. it’s been years since you’ve seen this him, but he hasn’t changed other than some added wrinkles. he still exudes an intimidating aura. you can’t believe your papa drinks with this man, let alone allows him into your home.

“y/n,” suguru’s calls, tearing your attention back to him. you must look scared, because his voice is slightly calmer, gentler, than how he was speaking before. “get in the car.”

damn it, you can’t help but know you look weak in front of all these people. your mind is a whirlwind; from suguru’s anger, to satoru’s gun, and now toji fushiguro’s touch. the tips of your fingers twitch as you stare at suguru, frozen. an irritated vein stands out on his sweating forehead. you see ino over his shoulder, but you can’t read his face. you can’t tell what he’s thinking but his eyes are filled with confusion and concern. the younger fushiguro’s face also expresses worry, but his mouth stays shut.

“aw, how sweet of you,” fushiguro mocks your brother. “guess you don’t want your sweet little innocent sister seeing this ugly side of you, huh?”

why the hell is he dragging you into this?

“clutch, i’m not fucking around right now,” suguru obviously strains to keep his voice down for you. “get in kento’s car. now.”

something in your brain suddenly sparks, and you’re immediately turning around and rushing across the road and shoulder to kento’s car. your mind thinks of everything but nothing at the same time, tension reverberating from your body with each step on the concrete. you swing the door of kento’s s13 open as you practically dive into his passenger seat and slam it shut behind you.

as soon as it latches, you hear muffled shouting from several voices. you lean over, arms wrapping around your thighs and forehead resting on your knees, afraid of what you might see if you look out the windshield. you can feel you heart in your throat as you heave, your breathe hard to find in the wild confusion of the night.

the driver’s door flies open and you whip your head. kento immediately turns the motor and puts it in gear.

“i’m taking you home,” he exhales. you can tell he’s bewildered as well, his neat hair coming undone over his eyes and knuckles white over the gear shifter. when you lift you head to look out the window as he pulls away, you see a shadowy silhouette of a tall man standing on the hill behind the line of onlookers’ cars. you think you see a motorbike next to him, but he’s barely visible through the hazy fog of the mountain. it’s odd, to say the least, but not important at the moment. 

you keep quiet. you don’t think it’s worth mentioning.

✰✰✰✰✰

the way home is completely silent aside from the hum of the engine. kento drives you home quickly but safely, his rigidity slowly fading away with each push and pull of the gear shifter. but you haven’t stopped thinking— goddamnit, how you wish your brain would stop thinking. your knee bounces uncontrollably as you suck in a breathe.

“kento?” he hums and glances over to you. “how long has satoru owned a gun?”

he doesn’t speak at first and presses his lips into a tight, thin line.

“a while now,” he finally answers.

“do you have one, too?”

“no.”

“and suguru?”

kento pauses for half a second too long. 

“oh my god— how long has he had one?”

“longer than satoru,” it seems like answering these questions is causing him pain.

“are you lying to me?” your voice is small.

“never.”

it’s your turn to hesitate. you were used to seeing people carry weapons in the car scene back home, where it was so easy to get a hold of one. but to be across the world in a country where only gangs and criminals possessed them, just to find out that your brother and his best friend owned one…

it shocked you. although your mother owned a pistol back home, and you fully knew how to use it, it made you uncomfortable to think your own brother got a hold of one illegally. suguru has always been your safety blanket, the one to call when things went wrong, the one to comfort you. and satoru, the one who always had a watchful eye on the back of your head, the one who you’d always run to if suguru wasn’t there. what are they thinking?

kento parks in front of your house, but you still have one more burning question.

“have they ever… used them before?”

“i don’t think so,” he replies.

“that was supposed to be a yes or no question.”

“i can’t give you that,” he looks… sad?

fine, then. without another word, you slip out of the car and walk inside your home. kento follows right behind you, all the way up the stairs to your room. he pauses at the door, one hand on the knob, as you slump into bed. he seems to know exactly what you’re thinking even though you’re turned away.

“i’m sure your brother is fine.”

“okay,” you croak, eyes burning with tears. tonight was just so… confusing. you could barely wrap your mind around what happened and most importantly, why?

“please try not to worry and get some sleep,” he replies, his voice gentle and solid. “i’ll let him know that you’re home and safe now.”

you hear him shut your bedroom door and pad down the stairs. when he locks the front door after him, you once again hear your papa’s snoring. only then do you let the tears fall, hot and heavy, but suddenly they’re angry tears. you kick off your boots and shove your face into the pillows, you fists trembling with irritation around the fabric.

how could suguru be so... stupid?

✰✰✰✰✰

shadow.takuma: hey are u ok?

shadow.takuma: are u home now??

you snatch up your phone at the notifications. you’ve calmed down now, but the fact that takuma is checking in on your before your own brother is sending hot blood through your veins once again.

clutchcruises: i’m home and i’m totally fine. are you okay?

shadow.takuma: yeah i’m ok!

shadow.takuma: i’m so sorry about megumi’s dad. i didn’t know he was gonna do that

shadow.takuma: and i'm sorry about how i was talking to ur brother

shadow.takuma: it was all really out of pocket

oh? that’s not really the explanation you were expecting.

clutchcruises: it’s okay. don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything!

shadow.takuma: no pls i feel awful. i feel like he really scared u

shadow.takuma: i think he just did it to get ur brother worked up

clutchcruises: he knew it would bc he knows my dad

clutchcruises: i remember him from when i was a kid

shadow.takuma: seriously??

shadow.takuma: that makes it worse… i’m so so sorry

clutchcruises: seriously, it’s alright! i’m over it now

you were totally not over it.

shadow.takuma: ok… well i get it if ur not up for it but i’ll still be at the underground tonight

shadow.takuma: just in case u decide to come!

clutchcruises: it really sounds fun, i’ve never been out in tokyo before

clutchcruises: i just don’t think it’s a good idea rn, i’m sorry

shadow.takuma: don’t be sorry :) i totally get it

shadow.takuma: text me if u change ur mind?

as soon as you like his last message, suguru’s name takes over your phone screen. you sit up in bed and answer the call.

“suguru.”

“y/n? ken told me you’re safe at home?” he sounds stressed.

“yeah.”

“are you okay?”

“i’m... a lot of things right now,” you admit solemnly. the frustrated tears reappear in your eyes but never fall. “are you?”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you hear the crackles as he adjusts his phone. “i’m so sorry. i’m fucking embarrassed.”

you stay silent, biting down on your lip. you don’t know how to respond.

“i’m so fucking sorry,” he continues. “i totally lost my temper. and when fushiguro came over, i knew i was about to completely lose it. i can’t believe he put his hands on you, i just—”

“—suguru,” you cut him off and he quiets. “why didn’t you tell me that you and satoru carried guns?”

he pauses. “i just didn’t think you needed to know.”

“where did you even fucking get them?!” you rarely got mad at suguru, but you couldn’t help but snap at him.

“you don’t need to know that either.”

“why not? don’t i deserve to know?”

another pause. “…no.”

you take a deep breathe. “when will you be home?”

“in a while. can we talk then, if you’re still up?”

“i’m still a little upset with you, suguru.” you bite your lip. “can we just wait until the morning?”

“yeah, i guess. get some sleep, okay?”

“suguru?”

“yeah?”

“…i’m going out tonight.”

“...with who?”

“some girls i made friends with tonight.”

you feel him hesitate through the phone. the phone crackles again as he fumbles with it. you wish you could see what he was doing, but a part of you doesn’t even want to know.

“...be safe and smart, please... call me if you need anything. and text me when you’re on the way home.”

“i will.”

“thank you.”

“love you, nii-chan.”

“love you too, clutch.”

✰✰✰✰✰

clutchcruises: otw

you have no idea what you’re doing, honestly. the words just came out of your mouth on the phone with suguru. sure, you wanted to meet up with takuma, but you weren’t actually planning on coming. and after all the bullshit that’s happened tonight, a drink sounds so good. you admit to yourself that you also just wanted to do something rebellious towards your brother after pissing you off.

your fingers thrum against the gear shifter as your mustang purrs through the bright streets of tokyo. you had stripped out of your corset and skirt into backless, dark green halter dress before fussing with your hair. you had never pulled on your platform combat boots so fast in your life. you kneaded your glossed lips together, anxious to death over walking into a club on your own. you were really going to hang out with a boy you’ve had one face-to-face conversation with, and for what? 

the plot? what plot?

after parking, you walked silently alongside scattered and rowdy strangers through the street of shibuya, eyeing your phone desperately. takuma still hasn’t responded to your message. good lord, what are you doing? what will your excuse be when suguru finds out?

you find yourself at the back of the line into the underground far too quickly for your liking. you can hear the pounding bass of the music from outside, echoing through your bones. the girls in front of you wear skirts so short and heels so high that you’re really starting to doubt yourself now. why are you here? the bouncer probably won’t even let you in once he sees the beautiful girls before you—

“y/n!”

you look up, meeting eyes with takuma. he gently wraps his hand around yours.

“you don’t need to wait,” he smiles. “i know the guy who runs this place. c’mon!”

he pulls you out of line and towards the door, where the bouncer doesn’t even look twice as you walk past. takuma leads you down a set of dark stairs, still holding you hand. your eyes widen when you reach the bottom. a huge room opens before you, neon lights and lasers scanning over the cramped crowd and huge speakers lining the ceiling, vibrating with every beat of the catchy song playing. 

the walls are lined with couples messily smacking faces while the dj booth stands in the center of the room with a circular bar surrounding it entirely. it’s one ginormous hub of drinking and dancing while booths and tables make small bubbles of calm as they’re scattered sparsely throughout the bodies.

just before you’re consumed by the crowd, takuma turns and puts a warm palm on the small of your bare back. he leans in, his hot and liquored breathe in your ear. your stomach flips and it feels like your body temperature raises about 20 degrees.

“the shadows have a booth by the bar,” he says. “if you want to drink tonight, we’ve got it all.”

you nod, hoping the neon lasers disguise your bright red cheeks. he grins and takes your hand once again, leading you into the sea of people. it’s completely packed, and you can’t help but be pushed around between drunks. thankfully, takuma never loses his hold on you, even when you harshly bump into a tall, stiff body.

“sorry!” you shout at them over the music.

the person looks down at you with a glare, leaving you cowering. it’s a rough-looking man about suguru’s age who grips a beer and wears a skin tight black shirt and jeans. he has light-colored hair, but you can’t exactly tell what color through the rainbow of lights over you. what you can see, however, is the absolutely horrifying tattoos that cover his face and arms. sharp, black lines blanket his nose, forehead, and jawline. thick bands wrap around his biceps and wrists.

as takuma pulls you away, the man gives you a sly smirk. he stands completely still among the constant movement around him. his dark eyes make direct, excruciating contact with yours until you disappear. you aren’t given any more time to dwell on his odd behavior as takuma leads you into the shadows’ wide, round booth.

the table is sticky with liquor and littered with cigarette butts and empty bottles. megumi and the pink-haired boy are standing and pouring shots, while man-bun and space-buns sit back in the booth, both with girls on their laps and wrapped around their necks. a couple other guys are here, but you don’t recognize them. the four that you do know, however, look up at you with wide eyes.

“uh, takuma?” fushiguro asks.

“what the hell?” man-bun says from his seat. the pink-haired and tattooed boys stay quiet.

“megumi!” takuma smiles at him and puts a hand on the small of your back once again. “this is y/n!”

“i know…” he responds, hesitant. “you— i didn’t think—”

“it’s okay, fushiguro-kun!” you smile with a shrug. “don’t worry about it!”

“i—” he stops and puts his hand to his chest before bowing sheepishly. it seems out of character for him, and you think he might already be drunk by the way he unsteadily sways. “i’m so sorry about me and my dad earlier.”

you wave him off. “seriously, it’s alright!”

“oh wait, that’s the girl?” pink-hair says, obviously very slow to understand. his glazed eyes tell you he’s been drinking for a while.

“a shot or two might make up for it all,” you tease.

“i’m yuji itadori!” he points to space-buns and tattoos first, then the man-bun. “and that’s choso kamo and aoi todo.”

megumi grabs a different bottle. “i hope you like vodka.”

“and i hope you like menthol.” yuji holds a thin white cigarette and lighter out to you, which you accept immediately.

“pour me one too, megumi!” takuma grabs your shoulders. “we gotta celebrate!”

“celebrate what?” you ask. his face is right next to yours as he leans over your shoulder. you can’t peel your eyes away from his glittering brown eyes and toothy smile. he shrugs.

“you’re came. what’s not to celebrate?”

✰✰✰✰✰

once again, your actions are beyond yourself. you didn’t plan to actually come out, but here you were in the underground. you didn’t plan to drink, but here you are with your 3rd drink in your hand after 3 shots, teetering over the line from tipsy to drunk. you didn’t plan on things to go so smoothly, but here you are sitting back in the booth after an hour of nonstop conversation beside takuma. his hand never left you the entire time, either around your hand or on your back while the other held a drink.

but you definitely didn’t plan to blurt out a question you already knew the answer to.

“do you like to dance, takuma?” you immediately regret asking, you just know he’s going to reject you.

“i thought you’d never ask,” he laughs. “i love dancing.”

takuma quickly stands up and pulls you out of the booth. he leads you deeper into the crowd until he finds enough space for the two of you to move. takuma pulls you into his side by the waist, then hesitates and loosens his hold.

“i’m sorry,” he says submissively. “i’m drunk.”

“don’t worry,” you giggle in his ear. “me too.”

takuma turns his face into yours. he looks at you with glassy, half-lidded eyes. your noses are just inches away from each other. your sweet vanilla perfume is making him dizzy. you don’t know his stomach is fluttering wildly with butterflies. he doesn’t know yours is too.

the dj transitions into the next song. it’s a mix but you instantly recognize the beat. you gasp.

“oh my god, i love this song!”

takuma smiles. “i’ve never heard this.”

“that’s cause it’s only for the girls.”

you wrap your arms around his neck and his hands come to rest on your waist. now that you’ve stood up and under the strobing lights, you realize you’re much drunker than you thought you were, but can’t find the effort the care anymore. takuma has had his eyes and hands on nothing but you since you got here, but you still want more.

“dance with me, kuma,” you find your intoxicated voice murmuring in his ear as you smile and start swaying your hips. his head spins while his fingertips lightly dig into your sides at your words. takuma swears he’ll never let go. he moves in sync with you to the beat, a permanent grin etched across his face.

he simply can’t believe the situation he’s in right now. the only coherent thought in his liquor-filled head is you. with your silky hair fluttering over his skin and his large hands over the curves of your hips and waist, separated only by the satin of your green dress… someone help him. his brain does backflips every time he’s made contact with the exposed skin of your back. your cheeks are pink from the shots and your glossed lips are puffy from being pursed around a straw or cigarette all night. he just can’t look away.

at first, all takuma wanted was a good look at you, your undeniable innocent beauty was like a magnet he couldn’t escape from. so how did he manage to get you here tonight, drunk and giggly with your body pressed flush against his? god, suguru would beat his ass on sight if he could see where takuma had his hands on you right now.

“you’re a good dancer, takuma.”

“am i?” he twirls the both of you around, evoking a sweet squeal from you before pulling you tighter against him to lean down and whisper in your ear. “what happened to ‘kuma’?”

your face turns red with embarrassment. you wrap your hand around his jaw and turn it away from your burning ear, a finger lingering on his bottom lip. takuma playfully bares his teeth and lightly bites the end of your nail, making your eyes widen before pulling your hand away with a small yelp. he just laughs, he has no idea what he’s doing. the song ends and transitions to another.

“another song?” takuma asks. 

god, he hopes you say yes.

“duh!” you laugh. he spins you so your back is against his chest.

“good, i don’t want you to leave me just yet.”

✰✰✰✰✰

you don’t know how long you and takuma danced for. it seemed like only 5 minutes, but it must’ve been another hour. your feet start to hurt and the liquor is setting in, making you dizzy.

“you okay, pretty girl?” takuma asks, the new nickname tumbling out of his mouth before he knows it. you nod in response. he doesn’t miss your lidded eyes staring at his lips instead of his eyes. 

“you tired?” 

“no,” you shake your head. “but i know i should go home soon.”

he has you facing him again, holding you close. your hand finds takuma’s nape and your fingers absentmindedly play with the ends of his hair, sending goosebumps down his back. disappointed by your words, he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours.

“i don’t want you to go,” he admits.

“me neither.”

your noses bump. takuma’s stomach drops. you sigh. he thinks and thinks, then thinks against it. seconds go by…

“you’re so beautiful.” he mumbles. you giggle shyly in response.

nah, fuck it.

“y/n…” his breathe is hot against your lips. “…can i kiss you?”

“yes, please.”

he reaches up, lightly cupping the side of your face. he’s gentle as your mouths connect, moving his lips against yours so soft and slow. he feels you melt into him, and he deepens the kiss. he lets his lips move in sync with yours, the sweet taste of your lip gloss sending searing waves of need down his stomach every time he catches a hint of it.

oh god, he’s practically floating.

you’ve been driving him insane all night, singing to all the songs in his ear and breathing softly on his neck. and even through the most passionate kiss he’s had in his life, his shitfaced brain understands completely that he’s utterly infatuated with you.

takuma slowly, reluctantly pulls away. it leaves both of you panting while your noses continue to poke and prod as he holds your jaw. your cheeks are bright red, and you know it’s not from the alcohol this time. you’re suddenly hypersensitive of his gentle hands against your cheek and the bottom of your back. your stomach feels light and jittery.

you don’t know what to think, incapable of processing anything coherently after takuma kissed you like that. in the few silent seconds after, you must replay it in your mind a hundred times over. you’ve never felt like this before.

nothing else settles in your mind, only takuma ino… but the one thing you seem to be able to comprehend in your empty little head right now rests over you like a warm blanket—

it’s so over for you.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

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[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 16 🍒

"The Mother Wound"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 3,882

Summary: When your mom comes to town for a surprise visit, she reveals everything she know about your romance with Joel, and discloses some secrets of her own.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), set in summer 2003, reader wears a dress, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, fluff, slut shaming (wrongful, obviously), physical abuse (a slap), language!, accusations of grooming, protective!Joel, your awful mom being awful and telling a horrendous lie, angst, breakup as in "I need time to think", no use of y/n, if I've l left any out please let me know!

Author's Note: the whole "daddy" thing from Chapter 14 is finally put to rest. I wouldn't do that to y'all, this is not Literotica. If I can think of any other notes I'll add them later as it's 1 a.m. and I need to get some sleep.

Series Masterlist

Can't see you tonight, babygirl. Working late over on Sage Street

You look over the text Joel sent you just an hour ago, and make sure the street is the correct one as the signs are hard to read in the darkness of the late night. But there are only a couple houses being constructed among the empty lots, golden beams of wood forging the bones of the unfinished brand new homes. Joel's truck is parked right outside the first one you see.

He's hunched over a table beneath a portable LED light, overlooking layout plans, a small radio nearby playing a song with a guitar riff that's familiar to you.. Sunshine of Your Love..

There's a surge of feminine power within you as you approach him in your flowered sundress. Joel's double take is priceless. He doesn't ask what you're doing there. To be quite honest he doesn't care about anything except getting that dress off you.

It's like a scene from a movie the way he scoops you in his arms, whispering things like "shouldn't be out this late by yourself" and lays you down on a pallet of bricks covered in a plastic sheet. He removes his white shirt, scented of his sweat and natural odor, and lays it under you for cushioning before getting to his knees and spreading your thighs apart.

"Been thinkin' about this pretty lil' pussy all day," he grumbles. You take his hard hat off and put it on yourself, lifting yourself on your elbows so you can watch him.

He tears the thin fabric of your panties, watching your puffy pussy lips appear, slick with want. Your scent reaches him and he can't hold back, diving in to taste you.

"Joel!" you gasp, your hips jolting as his mouth makes contact with your drenched cunt, ever sensitive to his touch. You let yourself get lost in the sweet sensations, sighing, calling out his name.

"God, you taste so good, babygirl," he moans against you, his thumbs spreading you open as his tongue delves into your heat, flicks over your clit. "Sweet like candy.."

Over and over his tongue laps at you, devouring you, his hands pulling down the front of your dress and cupping the sweet mounds of your breasts. He makes coming so easy, as if your body was made for the kind of attention he lavishes upon it.

You come quickly and he lifts you up, clasping your thighs around him, your sticky wetness rubbing against his belly, his own jeans unbuttoned, and moves you to a more discreet place, where you're hidden by the wall sheathing. He hastily removes himself from his boxers and aligns himself to your slit, carefully placing you over him, watching the way your eyes flutter closed as he slides into you.

He fucks you standing, legs hooked over his arms as you kiss him, swallowing up each other's moans and sighs. The summer night humidity and the laboring of your bodies soon have you both sweaty, slippery against one another. He drives into you relentlessly, slowing down only when he worries he'll come too fast, wanting your pleasure before his.

Impaling yourself on him, not a single coherent thought crosses your brain except pursuing your release, the stickiness of your combined sweat, the way his balls smack against your ass, how drenched you are for him, feeling like you can barely withstand to take all of him as he takes control, pressing you down on his dick like it's the last fuck you'll ever have.

You come undone as his tip just brushes your cervix, little bit of pain in the pleasure he's wrenching from you, feeling him spill inside, so much of it that you're already leaking before he withdraws, laying you down on a makeshift blanket of your clothes and his.

"I never wanna stop explorin' you," Joel says, lips brushing your neck, traveling down the slope of your shoulder as you relax in his arms. "I could spend the rest of my life explorin' you and I would still have so much to discover about you, baby."

You've never really been comfortable in your own skin, but watching him adore you gives you a different perspective. "Which parts do you like best?" you ask him.

"Your curves, your face, your eyes. I'm not sure if I can put into words how beautiful you actually are.."

You run your hands along his smooth, large muscles, giving them a gentle squeeze. "There's nothing on you I don't like either."

"So what do you like the most?" he asks with a lustful grin, enjoying your touch.

You grin back. "These of course." your fingertips graze his biceps. "And these." you kiss his lips. "But if I'm being very greedy, I think I like this the most." You reach down and gently stroke his already-hard length.

"I like you bein' greedy," he mutters, eyes closed as he savors your touch.

You feel him come alive in your hand and you feel powerful.

He slides into you, still wet, still sensitive from before, and he takes his time. Slow, but far from delicate. His beard scratches roughly at your skin as he gently grazes his teeth on your tender throat, moving deeply, intoxicated by the scent and taste of you.

When you come it's sweet, lingering, like the prolonged vibration of a note softly played upon a violin.

Joel comes softly and you revel in the warmth of his release, feel him fill you, empty his soul into yours.

"You're good, baby. My god.."

You run your hands across his chest. "I want to be good to you and good for you."

"You're mine and I'm yours," he kisses you again. "I don't ever wanna be without you." Kiss. "And I don't ever wanna stop makin' love to you." Kiss. "And I don't ever want this to end." He gently lays his head on your chest.

"Promise me it's always gonna be this good for us," you whisper.

He smiles warmly. "I promise you, it'll always be this good."

"Morning, hottie," you mumble, smiling. "How'd you sleep?"

Somehow last night you both managed to untangle yourselves long enough to get back to your place, falling asleep in each other's arms immediately.

"Really good, actually," he says, stretching, hair mussed and eyes barely open. "What time is it?" He checks his watch, eyes wide as he realizes he's running late for work. "I gotta go, already late." He scoots out of bed and starts to get dressed. "I'll text you later, all right?" He gives you one last kiss. "Sorry for cuttin' our mornin' short."

"I understand," you murmur, missing the press of his lips and the heat of his body next to yours. "I'll talk to you soon."

"Love you," he says, smiling as he gets his shirt over his head.

"I love you more.."

"Impossible," he gives you a grumpy look.

"Joel Miller, my heart melts with love for you. I crave you with each breath I take, you rock my fucking world, et cetera, et cetera," you say theatrically, giggling as he comes to you again, his broad, strong body covering yours in the bed.

"Save some of those sweet words for tonight, okay?" He kisses the tip of your nose. "Now I gotta get going."

"Miss you already," you chuckle. Wearing only a sheet, you follow him to your front door, give him another quick kiss, watch him get in his truck and leave.

You're so busy watching him drive away and turn at the end of the street, that you see too late your mother's car pulling up to the driveway, followed closely by Sofia.

"Put some clothes on!" your mother scolds before she's even fully out of the car. "Who was that leaving the house?"

You freeze. Nothing had prepared you for your mother's visit. She would have hounded you about it for days beforehand, but now she's here, like a storm cloud on a beautiful day.

"Answer me," Anita says. "Was that Joel Miller leaving here so early?"

All speech has left you. In a flash of anger you glare at your cousin, who shakes her head, hand on her chest. Not me, she's mouthing.

Your mom has already put two and two together. She's no fool, she played this game when she was your age. She had this man when she was your age.

"My daughter's a slut!" she wails.

"Get inside!" Sofia hisses to both of you as she sees the neighbors start to come out and see the hullaballoo.

"Get dressed. Don't shower. I'm taking you to the hospital for a rape kit," Anita says.

"Mom, are you fucking kidding me? I wasn't raped!"

Sofia insists, "Go shower," softly as she tries to appease both of you. "You shouldn't be talking to your mom like this," she whispers. At first you think she's referring to your tone of voice, but then you realize you're naked save a bedsheet, likely still smelling of sex.

"You're taking a pregnancy test," Anita announces.

"I'm not pregnant! What is wrong with you? Why are you here??"

Anita turns to your cousin. "Please leave us to talk."

Sofia stands her ground. "This is my house, auntie. I'm staying."

Your mom grumbles, giving your cousin a hard look. "You let this happen under your roof? What would your parents say if they knew? They'd be disappointed in your lack of morals."

"I don't agree with what they're doing," Sofia says. "But they're both adults, and-"

"You can't keep seeing him," your mother ignores her, turning to you. "You know that, right? It's inappropriate. He's twice your age. He should have more sense."

You never thought you'd have to prepare for this conversation. You never imagined you'd be in this spot, caught red-handed, being sinful with the first ounce of freedom you've been given.

"You don't understand, Mom.." you tell her. "I love him."

The slap registers only after it's happened, your cheek red hot, head on a swivel. Sofia gasps, steps forward to get Anita away from you as you press your own hand to your cheek, feel it already burning.

Joel thinks it's odd when you don't answer his texts, but he pays it little mind. You weren't upset when he left that morning. Then he starts to think you might be hurt. Maybe you fell and hit your head. What if you're unconscious and there's no one there to call 911?

Just when he's about to go stir crazy, his phone dings with a message from you:

don't come to the house tonight. my mom is in town. think someone told her about us. talk later, ok? love you

"Damn!" Joel nearly throws his phone into the street, the need to throttle something or someone is getting stronger. He never expected to have to see Anita again, hasn't seen her in almost twenty years and likes it that way.

You wait for a response to your text, but your phone remains silent. Frowning, you sigh deeply and start on your shower. You think on the many nights Joel has had you in here, pinned to the wall, or on your knees as you went down on him.. there were tender moments too, when he washed and scrubbed your hair for you, assuring you that he loved you the way you are, that there's nothing about you he could ever dislike.

Freshly showered, you change into your typical shirt and jeans, black Converse sneakers on, ready to leave at a moment's notice. But not with her. Not with your mom.

Unfortunately you take too much time preparing for the worst that only too late do you look out the window, realizing Joel's home. You rush out to meet him but your mom has already beat you to it. Sofia holds you back.

"Leave it be," she pleads. "If he loves you he'll come here, and he'll fight for you."

"I hope not literally," you mumble, watching the interaction between your mom and Joel from the safety of the living room window.

It's as if Anita has a radar for Joel. As soon as he's parked in his driveway she marches up. "How dare you? How dare you?" she screams.

He takes a deep breath in and out, taking a moment to calm himself before exiting the vehicle. "How've you been, Anita?" he asks calmly in an attempt to deescalate the situation.

She takes a good look at him as he gets out of the car. Joel Miller all grown up. "I've been better. You haven't changed in twenty years."

"Neither have you, still cornerin' me the minute I'm leavin' my truck. What brings you by?" His words are friendly, his tone is not.

"You screwing my innocent daughter is what 'brings me by'!"

"Jesus, Anita, you really don't mince words do ya? I'm not 'screwing' her."

"That's not what I heard." She puts her hands on her hips, her stance hostile.

"Well what did you hear? And who'd you hear it from? Hmm?"

"I don't need to tell you that. But you are to stay away from my daughter, do you hear me?"

Joel sighs. "I understand you're upset with me for.. for bein' with her. But you're not gonna keep her away from me. I know that she's young, but she's old enough to-"

"No, no, no," Anita shakes her head. "Don't you dare use that excuse. My daughter may be of legal age, but she's too young to know the kind of mess you've got her in."

"She's older than you were when you started messin' around."

"You son of a bitch! Don't you ever-"

"Can we talk somewhere other than the street? Or do you just like makin' a scene and lettin' the whole neighborhood know my business?" He starts to march towards your cousin's house.

"You were best friends with her father," Anita says, following behind. "Don't you think maybe she's confused? Maybe she's looking to you to be her father figure, not her lover?"

"She's with me because she loves me!" he shouts. "And I love her. What the hell do you plan on doin' about that?"

"She doesn't know what love is!" she scrambles to catch up with him on the porch. "Then you come along and you groom her to be this woman you want her to be. But she's too young to understand! You ought to know better!"

"Groom her? I would NEVER do that to her!" His fists are clenched at his sides, blood boiling at how she could defile the love you share.

"Imagine it was your daughter Sarah," Anita says softly. "Imagine she's eighteen, away from home for the first time, and a man twice her age does everything you've been doing with mine. What would you do?"

Joel closes his eyes, knowing he's caught between a rock and a hard place. One the one hand, he sees you as more than some eighteen-year-old. On the other hand, he'd knock the teeth out of any man who dared to try something on Sarah, at any age. "Damn you, Anita. You have no idea. If Sarah was in that situation, I'd make sure whoever that person was.. that they wouldn't see the light of day again."

She looks satisfied. "Then you understand. And the next time you think of coming near my daughter, I want you to think about that instead."

You jump when you see him come through the front door. Without an ounce of shame you hurry to him, enveloping him in a hug. "I don't know what happened," you murmur as you embrace each other tightly. "God, this is such a mess.."

"What happened to your cheek?" He looks at you with concern and turns to Anita. "Did you fuckin' hit her??"

"She doesn't know the worst of it, does she?" Anita asks, ignoring him. "I'm willing to stake everything on it, that you never told her."

You glance from her to Joel. "Told me what?"

His hesitation makes your heart thud, a shiver of unease tingles your spine. Sofia excuses herself to the patio.

Anita looks pleased with herself when she says, "Honey, he's your daddy."

You pull away from him, your natural reaction to uncertainty, your brain going at warp speed to try to process everything from the past couple of hours. "What?" you ask quietly in disbelief.

"God damn it, Anita! Don't go tellin' her shit like that!" Joel roars, and for a moment you worry that he'll hurt your mom, but all that takes a backseat when you take in what she just said.

Anita cuts in, giving you the story of her history with Joel, their brief relationship before she fell for the man you know as your father. How she struggled to maintain the lie, how hard it was to have a baby while still in high school.. all this you've heard before minus the part about Joel. She goes on, in excruciating detail, as Joel leaves. You barely register his absence, your head unable to wrap itself around the new facts.

Joel returns with a manila envelope. "Fuck you, I'm not her father. I never was." He shows a paternity test, old and crinkled around the edges, yellowed with time. "Chris had a paternity test done when he was tryin' to get out of bein' married to you," he glares at Anita. "I had one done through the mail as well, just to be sure." He practically shoves the paper in her face. "Had it done right after Sarah was born."

You take the paper yourself, wanting to see with your own eyes, and there it is: a 99.99% probability of Chris being your father. The results for Joel: 0%.

You give him back the paper and take a seat on the sofa. Every movement feels like you're underwater, body heavy against the tide.

Joel sits next to you, his arm around you in a gesture of comfort, without getting too close. "I wouldn't have done any of that if I'd been your dad, babygirl.. you know that." He kisses the top of your head. "I'd have taken you away from them, and Sarah could have a sister."

Feeling sick, you shake your head and remove his arm from you.

"I know," he says resignedly.

"Was what she told me true?" you whisper. "Did you really love her back then? And slept with her? Even when she was pregnant with me?" Your voice pleads for him to lie. It's the one time you'll accept a fabrication instead of the truth.

Joel looks worn down, older than his years. He can't even look you in the eyes, he just nods.

It feels like an eternity passes. "Was this what you wanted?" you ask your mother. "I could have gone my whole life without knowing any of this! And you told me this for what? For what?"

It's sickening the way your mom looks smug about stirring the pot. She's always like this. She's the can't leave well enough alone type.

Anita simply responds, "I'm not going to punish you for being naive. But I am bringing you back with me to Houston tonight. You can finish college there. You're never to be around Joel again."

Joel rises from his seat, looking ready for a fight again. "You can't do that, you can't just take her away from me like that!"

"Jesus, Joel. If Chris was here he'd beat the living hell out of you. Be glad I'm here and not him."

You stand up as well. "Fuck you both." With long strides you reach your room, packing a few things. When you return they're both quiet, looking to you for the next move, both have expectation written on their faces.

Anita seems deep in thought, older than her 35 years. "You're coming with me?"

"I'm not going anywhere with you. But I'm not staying here either."

Joel looks like he's about to break down and cry, and you realize this is the first time you've seen him truly vulnerable. Your own heart is too bruised and sore to worry about his.

"I just need to think about some things," you say in a small voice.

Anita goes to her car, speaking with Sofia, likely admonishing her for letting the love affair happen in the first place.

Joel stops you on the porch. "Are you sure this is somethin' you wanna do?"

You can't look up at him. If you do you'll cry, and if you cry you'll just let him pull you into his arms again.

"I need to figure some things out."

"I love you," he says softly. His voice cracks a little.

You swallow the tears that threaten to come, focusing on a small ladybug crawling on the floorboards of the white wooden porch. "When you were with me did you ever think about her? Did you ever think I'd be a good substitute for a woman who didn't want you anymore?"

"Is that what you think I was doin'?"

You shrug.

"Babygirl, you look so much like your mom that it hurts. So sometimes, yeah, I do see her in you. But you're a better person than she is.. you're smart, you're kind, you're clever.. I can't see myself wantin' anyone else."

It's not really the answer you hoped for, but then again this is not the kind of day you hoped for either.

"That's not enough for me to stay.." you whisper. Your mother ruined it, just like she ruined everything else, just like she ran your father off.

"I think we were looking for other people in each other," you tell him. "You were looking for my mom and I was looking for my dad."

"No, no, sweetheart, it ain't like that," Joel puts his hand on your shoulder, gently lifting your chin to meet his eyes. Your heart beats madly seeing the pain and anguish there. "What I felt for your mother was nothin' compared to what I feel for you. Please, baby.. stay." He clutches your hands in his.

It was just a summer thing, you think to yourself as you drive down the street, following your mom, away from the home you've known for just a couple of months, before you force yourself to not think about anything else but the drive, the long stretch of Interstate 10 that takes you to Houston.

Sarah's there at the end of the block, stopped on her bike as she watches you leave. You realize you hadn't said bye to her, but when you catch her eye she doesn't smile back, averting her eyes. She gives a small wave, uncomfortable even with the friendly gesture, and your stomach is in knots as you realize it had to have been her..

The one who slammed the door on you and Joel at the party. The one who reached out to your mom, describing what she walked in on. Why else would she take your leaving so well?

You watch her start riding towards her house, wind blowing through her locks. You watch her through your rearview mirror until she's a speck on the horizon, and then completely out of sight.

(I'm sorry. I love y'all. I'm sorry.)

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