#sorry I feel like this was more of an unanswer than an answer

[tsukii0002]

I wake up in the morning and the first thing I see is this 🙃

Damn, I... I don't know what to think, I'm furious, I'm sad and above all I'm confused. On the one hand (my more sympathetic side) I understand Solmare, they have lost the direction of their game and that has affected the quality of the story and to continue making more content for just doing it is better to stop...

Now then… What is going to happen with all the untied ends? Since nightbringer began, more unknowns have been opened than have been resolved. What is going to happen with Simeon? With the new power of Mc? Is that all we're going to get from Mephisto, Raphael and Thirteen? Considering that this season Thirteen is appearing between 0 and nothing…. We are not going to know about Michael, or the issue of the nobles house and Diavolo's father???? There are so many unresolved questions… Solomon's past, Thirteen's sister, Mephisto's little brother????

But what bothers me the most is…who the hell is nightbringer????!!!!! Why did we travel to the past? What is his goal with what purpose? ???? Are you telling me that in the rest of the season they're going to answer that question? Or are they going to leave it unanswered? If so, what was the point of making a new game, to gain time to develop the plot? Well, it hasn't been of much use…

Little more than a year after the release of a new game, they announce the end? I feel that the last seasons have been the preparation of the ground for the real story, and they have given us hardly anything, or maybe it's my fault for waiting too much… but they haven't really solved anything, we are exactly in the same place as when Om ended. I know that complain is useless, I know...

For my part I will continue writing about the game, drawing and expanding my universe, because now the story is in the hands of the fans, it has been for a long time already. I just, I don't know, I'm sad Obey is such an important part of me, it's the game I started sharing content for…. That this news feels like that part is being taken away from me. I hope you guys are well, sorry for this rant. And if you guys have anything to share, I'd be grateful to read it.

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[dire-kumori]

Oh and i had a question about, like, logistics of the reaper au!

Assuming there's a possible ending where reaper Mike dies and young Mike manages to live... do you think it would change things? Would it matter, in the end?

Or is Evan still fated to die at Mike’s hands, is Liz still fated to die, too? Is young Mike still fated to grow up and get scooped before ultimately dying while trying to kill his younger self? (Which is just... very, very sad and horrific in so many ways)

Because if none of these things happen, it could create a paradox; where would reaper Mike have come from if Evan and Liz never die, and Mike never gets scooped?

...Very good question.

Okay, so I like to think that Reaper Mike's mission is ultimately doomed to fail. Obviously he's never going to successfully erase his past self. But after a while, it's stopped being about 'making things right' and 'protecting Evan' and more about 'hurting (kid) Mike as much as possible,' so that doesn't really matter to him. At a certain point he just kind of stops being 'Michael Afton' and just becomes 'the Reaper.'

But Reaper Mike isn't the only one who's changed by the repeated loops. Even with the memories fragmented, young Mike is living out... weeks? Months? Hell, maybe even years in this loop. He's growing up, essentially, but without aging. I mean, of course his emotional and mental maturity is skewed because - [vague gesture at the blood-soaked death parade he's trapped in] - but after a certain number of loops he isn't quite the same person who would have thoughtlessly shoved his brother's head into moving machine parts. Especially not when he still has the broken images of Evan sobbing hysterically and begging the somebody to stop hurting his brother (the Reaper turning its fury onto Evan for daring to get between him and his target, past Mike throwing himself over Evan's little body in a vain attempt to at the very least save Evan's life, if not his own) floating around in his brain.

Can you tell I'm just word vomiting at this point? I kind of lost track of the original question.

I'm not 100% what this would mean for the Reaper Mike because with past Mike growing and changing, the Reaper would inevitably change as well. I like throwing characters up against forces or circumstances beyond their control, but I don't like saying things are just fated to happen. If things play out the same way again, it's because factors leading to those events are still the same. It might actually be that so long as Reaper Mike is stuck outside of his own time, he's largely unaffected by changes made to his past aside from some ripples in his memories. He was pretty shocked when his past self made choices he was certain he never would have made, such as seeking vengeance for Evan's sake after the loop where the Reaper killed them both. So scratch what I said above, past Mike is growing, while Reaper Mike stagnates, wallowing in his self-loathing.

[halfmoonaria]

unanswered II

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: tara finally comes to her senses.

word count: 6k

author’s note: sorry for the wait guys! might be forgiven tho since i claimed this was 4k words but it ended up with 6k.

i tried to include all your suggestions so i hope you like it

Tara had been blocked.

You had blocked her.

Though, it didn't hit her all at once. The first few minutes, she thought you were just asleep, it had been late when she had texted you after all.

Maybe you needed space after what Tara had said a few nights before, and she couldn't blame you for that.

Yet she still tried texting you, each one more desperate than the last. They were all small messages, apologies wrapped in awkward words that probably didn't mean much for anyone but her.

At first, Tara chalked it up to bad timing, bad service, something.

You had to see her messages eventually, right? So she kept sending them. But there was still no reply. Then, the doubt crept in.

Maybe you were ignoring her.

That thought weighed heavily on her, but she didn't stop.

She was still convinced there had to be an explanation. You always stayed. Even when things were at their worst, when she screwed up time and time again, you stayed.

But something was different this time. She felt it.

Then she noticed the green bubbles. The messages weren't delivering.

Her stomach had dropped. It wasn't bad service. It wasn't bad timing. You had cut her off completely.

Her thumb hovered over your contact, thinking about calling, but she stopped. What was the point? You wouldn't answer.

You were done with her.

She stared at her phone for longer than she should have, as if willing it to change.

But it didn't.

The reality sank in, slow and suffocating. You were gone.

For the first time, she wasn't the one walking away, and the absence of you—your presence, your texts, your warmth—was a hole Tara hadn't even realized she relied on.

It wasn't like she hadn't expected it after everything that had happened.

You always had a way of catching her when she messed up, but things seemed to smooth over eventually.

She never really had to confront her mistakes because you stayed, no matter how many times she got it wrong. Now, though, there was nothing.

Tara wasn't used to this. Sure, she knew she had done something wrong—pushing you away, keeping you in this weird limbo while she figured herself out—but she hadn't thought it would lead to you cutting her off.

Blocking her, even.

That had never happened before. No matter how many times she messed up, you had always been there, willing to pick up the pieces, and things just... worked.

She hadn't even realized how much she relied on your presence until it was gone.

For the first time, she was completely alone. No Amber, no you. Just silence.

———

Tara woke up the next morning with a strange sense of hope. She half expected to see the messages had been delivered, that maybe you'd unblocked her while she was asleep. Maybe it was all just a mistake. You wouldn't really cut her off, not after everything, right?

She grabbed her phone, swiping to the messages she'd sent.

Still green.

Her heart sank, the pit in her stomach deepening as she realized nothing had changed. You were serious. You weren't coming back.

When she got to school, a part of her still thought maybe you'd be there, waiting to talk like you always did, or at least watching from afar. She found herself glancing at the spots where she usually saw you, waiting for that familiar feeling of your eyes on her.

But you weren't there.

But Tara kept walking, her heart heavy as she scanned the hallways. That's when she spotted Amber, standing by her locker, waiting. The familiar feeling of longing tugged at her, but this time it wasn't as comforting as before.

Amber caught her eye and signaled for her to come over, flashing that smile Tara always fell for. Without thinking, Tara did. She walked straight into Amber's arms, letting Amber sling her arm casually around her shoulders as if nothing had changed between them.

For a brief moment, Tara felt like she had what she wanted. Amber was there, holding her close, showing everyone that she was hers—at least for today.

But there was still a heaviness in her chest, something she couldn't shake. It didn't make sense. She was with Amber now, wasn't this enough?

The thought of you crept in, uninvited.

No, it couldn't be that.

She pushed the feeling down, convincing herself that having Amber was enough.

It had to be.

That's what she told herself for the following days, trying to convince herself that Amber was enough, that this was what she wanted.

And for a while, it almost worked. Amber had been good—more attentive, more affectionate than usual—at least during the school week.

The weekends, though, were different. Parties took priority, and Amber's attention drifted.

Yet even when things were good; better than ever if you will, Tara couldn't shake the feeling lodged in her chest, that gut-wrenching discomfort that seemed to cling to her no matter how much she tried to ignore it.

The more she tried to push it down, the more it twisted inside her, leaving her uneasy.

And all of the thoughts led back to you. To Tara's own surprise.

You didn't try to search for her between classes, didn't glance in her direction when you passed her in the hallways. Nothing. Like she didn't even exist.

That was what Tara should've expected, really. After everything she'd done—after the way she'd strung you along, pushed you aside, left you waiting on the sidelines—it made sense. She had no right to expect anything different.

Tara had always been the one to call the shots, to decide when and where things stood between the two of you. Now, for the first time, the power was out of her hands.

She kept telling herself it was temporary. You'd come back—you always did. She just had to wait it out. Maybe this time it would take a little longer, but you'd be there, eventually. You had to be. So she forced herself to get used to it, to the absence, pretending she could handle the emptiness you left behind.

But what really started to get under Tara's skin wasn't just your absence or the way you seemed to move on so easily. It was seeing you with someone else.

She first noticed it during English class. You had been sitting next to some girl—someone Tara vaguely recognized but never really paid attention to before.

At first, she didn't think much of it, but as the days went on, she kept seeing the two of you together. Talking. Laughing. It wasn't just casual conversations either. You looked comfortable. Almost like you were enjoying yourself.

And as the days passed, Tara couldn't help but notice it more.

You hadn't even glanced her way in days, and yet here you were, cozying up to someone else like nothing had happened.

And every time she glanced in your direction during class, there you were, talking to her. Sometimes you'd laugh, or lean in a little closer, your body language relaxed in a way that made Tara's stomach twist.

You weren't just sitting next to each other anymore—you were... comfortable. And it wasn't just in English. She caught sight of you together in the hallways, outside the building after school.

The more she saw the two of you, the more it grated on her nerves. A sharp, simmering anger that built with each passing day.

Every smile, every shared glance between you and this girl made it harder for her to focus on Amber, even when Amber was right beside her, holding her hand or whispering in her ear.

It shouldn't have bothered her like this. It shouldn't have mattered.

You were free to talk to whoever you wanted. For all Tara knew, she was just a classmate, someone you happened to sit next to by chance.

But that didn't stop the ugly feeling from growing inside her, gnawing away at her with every interaction she witnessed.

She told herself it was nothing. That it didn't mean anything. But with every glance, every shared word between you and that girl, her anger simmered, coiling tighter until it was all she could focus on.

It wasn't jealousy, Tara told herself. It couldn't be. She had Amber, after all.

Yet there was no denying the way her chest tightened every time she saw you with her. It wasn't supposed to feel like this. You weren't supposed to matter anymore.

But somehow, you still did. Of course you did.

___

"What's got your panties in a twist?" Amber's voice broke through Tara's thoughts, cutting through the low hum of the campus.

Her tone was sharp, playful in a way that normally would've made Tara grin, but today it grated, pulling her out of the spiral she had been sinking into.

They were sitting outside, perched on one of the weathered wooden benches that lined the quad, the usual bustling energy of lunchtime fading as the crowd thinned.

Chad and Liv had disappeared first, throwing out some half-hearted excuse about "something better to do," Mindy had ditched too—not that Tara blamed her, considering she wasn't exactly Amber's biggest fan. Which left only Amber and Tara behind.

Normally, Tara would've reveled in that—the rare chance to have Amber's full attention, unshared, unchallenged by anyone else. She used to crave these moments when it was just the two of them, when Amber's eyes were only on her.

But now, Tara could barely summon the energy to care. The thrill of it had dulled, smothered under the weight of everything else she couldn't stop thinking about—of everything she couldn't feel.

Your absence hung heavy in the air, even though Amber didn't know it was there. She couldn't know.

She wouldn't have cared if she did.

Amber shifted beside her, more out of impatience than concern. "Seriously, you've been acting weird all week," she pressed, her voice tinged with frustration.

She wasn't used to Tara being so distant, and the idea that something might be slipping out of her control clearly bothered her. "What's your problem?"

Tara blinked, her mind sluggish, trying to catch up. It wasn't like she could explain it—not in any way that made sense.

How could she tell Amber that the cold shoulder she had been getting from you had thrown her completely off balance?

That it was the same cold shoulder she'd given you, over and over again, each time leaving you on the outside while she stayed wrapped up in Amber's world. How could she admit that now, when it was her on the receiving end, it felt like a punch to the gut every single time she saw you?

"I don't know," she mumbled, her voice barely audible. "I'm just tired."

It was the best she could come up with, the easiest excuse, but even as the words left her lips, she knew it wasn't enough.

Amber wasn't the type to let things slide, especially not when it came to Tara. She was used to being the center of attention, the one calling the shots, and when Tara's focus wasn't on her, Amber always took notice.

"Yeah, well, you've been 'tired' for a while now," Amber snapped back, her tone cutting through the brief silence like a whip.

She didn't sound concerned, not really—just annoyed, irritated that something wasn't going her way. "Maybe you should come out with me this weekend, you know? Party with me."

Amber's suggestion hung in the air between them, and Tara hesitated. Normally, Amber didn't bother to ask.

She'd go without her, living up the night on her own, letting Tara watch it all from the sidelines. She'd see it unfold through Amber's and other people's social media—photos and videos of Amber laughing, surrounded by friends, completely absorbed in her own world.

But this time, it felt different. Tara could feel it in the way Amber's eyes lingered on her, waiting, expecting something—expecting Tara to be excited, to jump at the chance like she would've done before.

But the thought of it, the thought of pretending everything was fine, felt suffocating.

She nodded anyway, forcing herself to give Amber the answer she was waiting for, even if it felt hollow. "Yeah. Sure."

But even as the words came out, Tara felt the weight of them, heavy and wrong.

Because the truth was, none of it mattered—not the party, not Amber's fleeting attention. None of it made a dent in the gnawing ache in her chest that had started the moment you stopped looking at her.

She told herself it was fine. She could play along. She had done it before. But deep down, Tara knew that no matter how much she tried to push it down, nothing could fix this disgusting feeling.

She sat in silence for a moment longer, staring at the ground as her mind whirred with thoughts she didn't want to have.

She clenched her jaw, trying to shake the feeling, trying to make herself believe that this—Amber, the party, all of it—would be enough. It definitely would've been before, hadn't it?

But now, the weight of your absence pressed in on her from every angle, heavy and suffocating. It wasn't supposed to feel like this. It wasn't supposed to matter so much.

Amber shifted beside her, sighing loudly. "Whatever, Tara," she muttered, standing up and brushing invisible dust off her jeans. "Don't get all weird on me."

Tara barely registered her leaving. The rush of relief she might have once felt in moments like these—when Amber turned her attention elsewhere—was gone, replaced by an ache she couldn't name.

A week ago, maybe two, Tara would've called after her, almost running to catch up. She would've asked if they could get ready together, spent half an hour agonizing over what she should wear, hoping for Amber's approval.

Her mind would've spun with questions, things she'd never needed to worry about when she was around you.

What should she wear? What did Amber want her to look like? Was her hair okay down, or should she try something new? She would've sent selfies for Amber's opinion, eager for a reaction, any reaction, to reassure her that she was enough.

But now, the questions didn't come. They felt distant, buried under the weight that had settled in her chest and refused to leave. Tara didn't care what Amber thought anymore. She didn't even care what she looked like.

The weekend came sooner than she had expected, almost sneaking up on her while she drifted through the week in a haze.

Throughout the week, Tara had tried to text you. Just one message each day, nothing too desperate, nothing that screamed she was losing her mind over your silence.

But each time, the bubble turned green, and with every little notification, her hope that you might respond twisted into something bitter, something angry.

Were you with her? That girl from your English class, the one she'd seen you walking with down the hallways, laughing, your head bent close to hers like you didn't have a care in the world.

Tara's stomach knotted at the thought, her grip tightening on her phone every time she imagined the two of you together. Were you sharing the jokes you used to save just for her? Did you laugh the same way?

By the time Friday came around, the anger had wrapped itself around her chest, growing heavier each time she looked at her phone, still green, still silent.

It weighed on her as she stood in front of the mirror that night, staring at her reflection like a stranger. She had thrown on whatever was closest, not caring how it looked—not caring how she looked—and now, standing there, she could feel the frustration boiling over.

She looked terrible, and she knew it. The clothes didn't sit right, her hair was a mess, and she didn't even have the energy to fix any of it.

Normally, she'd have texted Amber for advice, asked her what to wear, how to do her makeup. They might've gotten ready together if Amber cared enough, Amber teasing her the whole time but never letting her leave the house unless she looked perfect.

But tonight, none of that mattered. Tara was angry—angry at herself, at you, at the girl you were probably with right now. She felt like she was spinning, her thoughts spiraling into a million catastrophic possibilities, each one worse than the last.

Maybe she just needed to see you in person. Maybe if she could find you, look you in the eye, and tell you how she was feeling right now, you'd understand. Maybe that's what would finally break through this silence.

If she could just get you to listen, maybe if she could tell you all of it—how she didn't know what she was doing, how none of it made sense to her—you'd understand.

But would you even believe her? Would you even want to hear her out?

Without thinking twice, she pulled out her phone and typed out a message to Amber.

can't make it tonight. smth came up.

She didn't even wait for a response before throwing her phone onto the bed, her mind already somewhere else.

Part of her wanted to look you up, track you down, and talk to you face-to-face. Whether you were with someone else or just avoiding her the way she'd been avoiding you —but either way, Tara was done waiting around for you to reach out.

She stood frozen for a moment, feeling ridiculous as the thought of showing up at your house unannounced settled in.

She could already picture how stupid she'd look, standing at your door, trying to explain herself. You'd blocked her—didn't that already say everything she needed to know?

But then that other girl's face flashed in her mind, the way you laughed with her, walked next to her in the halls.

The thought of her taking you away, of her being the one you shared everything with now, twisted Tara's stomach in knots. She couldn't let that happen. Not without at least trying.

She didn't want to be too late.

Tara hated how desperate she felt, how even after everything, after you'd blocked her, she was still running after you. But she couldn't help it.

Even if she had to look you in the eye and hear you say you didn't want her anymore, she needed to know for sure. She needed to fight, because the thought of losing you to someone else was worse than any rejection you could throw at her.

With a deep breath and her hands shaking, she grabbed her jacket and keys.

Feeling stupid the whole way, she headed out the door, her heart pounding with every step she took toward your house.

___

didn't think u were weak enough to back out.

guess i was wrong.

Amber's text lit up her screen, but Tara barely glanced at it.

Normally, Amber's words usually stung, leaving Tara questioning herself, doubting everything. But tonight, they barely registered. She didn't care anymore, not about Amber's opinion or her insults.

The thought of how she'd been stringing you along—pushing and pulling, hot and cold—made her stomach twist in a way Amber's games never had.

Tara had always hated how Amber toyed with her, how she'd be there one day and gone the next, keeping Tara on a leash just long enough to never fully let go. Now, she realized, she was doing the same to you. She'd been selfish, scared, and now it was coming back to haunt her.

Amber had dragged her through the same emotional mess for so long—back and forth, never knowing where they stood—and now she had done the same to you.

It wasn't about Amber anymore. It was about you. And she wasn't going to let you slip away without at least trying.

She made it to your house almost sooner than she'd liked. The sight of your front door tightened the knot in her stomach, something she wasn't used to feeling.

Tara wasn't the nervous type—usually, she could handle herself in any situation, always sure of what she'd say or do. But now, her palms felt damp, her breath catching every time she thought of you opening that door.

She didn't know what she was going to say. Hell, she didn't even know if you'd open the door. But she had to try, even if her nerves were making her feel like a complete idiot for being there.

But she was already here, and she'd come this far—she couldn't just turn back now. She'd fought her way through every doubt to get here, and backing down wasn't an option.

Her feet felt heavy as she took each step up the walkway, the familiar creak of the wooden steps underfoot echoing louder in her ears than it ever had before.

The closer she got, the more every little detail stood out—the chipped paint on your door, the soft glow of light seeping out from the window.

She raised her hand to knock, fingers hovering just inches away, her heart pounding so loudly she wondered if you'd hear it from the other side.

Taking a deep breath, she let her knuckles tap lightly against the door, the sound swallowed almost instantly by the still night air.

It took long enough for you to answer that her thoughts had time to spiral. She knew your parents weren't home; in the little time she'd spent actually getting to know you, she'd learned that they hardly ever were.

You were probably home alone, and the idea haunted her—maybe you'd invited someone else over, maybe you weren't even alone at all, maybe you were with that girl she'd seen you with before.

By the time she heard footsteps approaching, her heart was beating so fast she almost felt sick, every possibility fighting for space in her mind.

Finally, the door swung open, and for a split second, there was a soft smile on your face.

But the moment your eyes landed on her, it vanished, replaced by something unreadable.

It wasn't anger—your expression was calm, almost neutral, yet there was a guardedness to it, like you'd been caught off guard, not entirely prepared to see her standing there.

The warmth in your eyes had dimmed, leaving something harder to read.

Tara couldn't tell if that look meant you were relieved or if she was the last person you wanted to see right now.

For a second, Tara felt so small. She knew she was short, but this was different—she'd never felt this out of place, like she was shrinking right there on your doorstep. Not since Amber.

Her fingers fidgeted, tracing over her knuckles as she tried to read you, to figure out what was going on behind that guarded expression. She barely registered the sound of her name until she heard your voice.

"Tara.. Hi."

The words hung there, making the quiet between you even heavier.

Tara didn't respond right away, too caught up in the questions swirling through her mind.

Had she interrupted something? Were you expecting someone else—someone who actually wanted to be here?

Her mind raced, flashing back to all the times you'd tried reaching out, inviting her over, and all the times she'd ignored you, too wrapped up in the momentary thrill of Amber's attention.

She hadn't let herself think about what that might've felt like for you.

And now, standing here, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was karma—that maybe you'd moved on, found someone else who didn't make you feel like a backup option. What if, after all this, she was too late?

Finally, after a moment, she managed to speak, her voice barely above a whisper, unsteady.

"Were... were you expecting somebody else?" Her words faltered, her gaze fixed on her hands as she twisted her fingers together, almost as if she could hold onto some kind of confidence.

You furrowed your brows just slightly, a small, almost confused smile pulling at the corner of your mouth as you let out a soft, breathy laugh. "No... why would I?"

Tara's mouth opened, but no words came out right away. She hadn't expected you to look so genuinely surprised, and now she felt her cheeks warming, her gaze darting down as she scrambled for something to say. Her fingers twisted together, and she forced herself to meet your eyes again, feeling silly for even bringing it up.

"I... I don't know. I just thought... maybe." Her voice was barely a whisper, and she hated how uncertain it sounded, as if she'd already given away too much. But she couldn't help it—she just had to know.

You tilted your head slightly, still wearing that soft smile, though there was a hint of something knowing in your eyes.

"Is she.. ignoring you again?" you asked, the question so casual yet so pointed that Tara's breath hitched.

She knew you meant Amber—you didn't even need to say her name. And the worst part was, she felt a pang of guilt because, honestly, it wouldn't have been the first time.

She swallowed hard, feeling like her own answer was betraying her. "Actually... no," she said slowly, her voice faltering as she tried to piece together her words. "She, uh, actually invited me to a party."

Your expression shifted, that lightness fading from your eyes, and Tara's stomach twisted painfully when she noticed.

She hadn't expected you to react like that, hadn't anticipated that flicker of hurt crossing your face. And now, standing there in the doorway, she felt a rush of regret wash over her.

Before she could stop herself, she added, her voice barely above a whisper, "But I didn't... I didn't go."

You didn't respond right away, just looked at her, eyebrows raised, silently waiting. Tara shifted under your gaze, feeling smaller by the second, until finally, she started to speak.

"I know you probably... don't want to talk to me right now," she began, her voice a little too fast, like she was rushing to get the words out before she lost her nerve.

She took a shaky breath and continued, "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. I mean, it's not like I've given you a reason to, you know, feel any different... or... yeah."

Her hand drifted up to her wrist, squeezing it as she fumbled for her next thought. "I... I messed up. And, I've been thinking about it, like, a lot, and it's just—I didn't know what I was doing. I mean, I thought I did, but then I... I didn't. And I didn't mean to make you feel like you weren't... important, or that I didn't care, because I did. I do."

She bit her lip, glancing up at you, unsure if she was making any sense, but she kept going. "I know it's probably too late to say any of this, and you've probably moved on, but I just... I don't know. I didn't want you to think that I... forgot about you. Or... or that you didn't matter."

Her gaze flickering down to the ground, then up to yours again, almost as if she's scared you'll walk away.

"That message where I told you to... that I didn't want anything to do with you..." She shakes her head, struggling for the right words. "I shouldn't have said that. I was... I don't even know what I was thinking. I just... Amber was there, and I felt like if I didn't, she'd—" She stops herself, clenching her fists a little, swallowing hard.

"And all those other messages.. I just kept trying to say sorry, but it was probably just... desperate, I guess. I didn't know how else to say that I... I wanted you, that I didn't mean it. That I still..."

Her words falter, and she sighs, rubbing her forehead as though exhausted with herself. "I know it probably doesn't make up for any of it, but... I swear, I didn't mean it. I never wanted to hurt you."

As soon as she stopped talking, a wave of embarrassment crashed over her, and it was all she could do not to cringe.

She hadn't even planned on saying half of what she'd said, and yet here she was, fumbling through one strained apology after another.

It felt messy, like she was just piling words on top of words, hoping that somehow they'd turn into something that made sense to you, that could somehow make things better.

But in her heart, she knew it sounded like nonsense, just a lot of desperate, pointless excuses that probably made her look even more pathetic.

And you just stood there, looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite read—somewhere between shocked and neutral.

The silence between you seemed to stretch on, making her rambling feel even more pointless, like each second of quiet only added weight to her mess of words.

Tara could feel her face heating up, and all she wanted was to take everything back, to make it sound right somehow—but she didn't even know what "right" would be.

Her fingers tightened around her wrist, her gaze dropping back to her worn out converses as the silence thickened around her. Part of her wanted to shrink back, to stop talking altogether, but she'd already put too much out there to turn back now.

So when you didn't answer, she continued.

"I... I want to do better," she said, each word a little slower, like she was searching for the strength to actually mean it. Her eyes barely lifted to meet yours, as if waiting for something—anything—that might tell her it wasn't too late.

Your hand, which had been holding the door open this whole time, finally slipped away. You clapped both hands against the sides of your thighs, the sound breaking the quiet between you two.

Then, with a tone that was almost unreadable, you asked, "Is that it?"

Tara's face fell slightly when your words cut through the silence. She searched your expression, looking for something—anything—that hinted at forgiveness, but the steady way you looked back at her made her stomach drop.

Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.

"So... you don't forgive me?"

Tara looked up at you, her eyes wide and glistening, almost like a puppy's, searching for any hint of understanding. It was a look she hadn't meant to put on, but somehow it found its way back to her face, a reflex from childhood.

She remembered using those same eyes when she'd gotten into trouble with her mom or when Sam wouldn't let her hang out with her friends. Back then, she'd wielded them like a weapon, a last-ditch effort to melt hearts and earn forgiveness.

Now, though, it felt different.

There was no intent behind it, just a genuine plea for empathy that made her feel exposed, and a wave of embarrassment washed over her as she realized how desperate she must look.

You took a breath before responding, your gaze steady but distant. "I do.. but I don't see why that matters because it'll all happen again." You said slowly, weighing each word.

Tara felt her heart sink at your words, the reality of what you said hitting her hard. She knew all too well how it felt to be caught in that cycle—Amber had done the same to her, repeatedly promising change only to slip back into old patterns.

It was frustrating and disheartening, and in that moment, she understood where you were coming from.

She took a shaky breath, trying to find her voice. "It won't... I promise it won't." Her tone was earnest, filled with a desperate need to be believed, to convince you that this time would be different.

Tara searched your expression, and as your words echoed in her mind—you did accept her apology—a flicker of hope ignited within her. It felt like a delicate promise written in cursive, intricate yet fragile, and she couldn't help but cling to it.

She tried to muster a soft smile, though it felt tentative, as if it might shatter under the weight of everything left unsaid.

"Can we... do you think that maybe we can try again?" The words tumbled out, filled with a mixture of uncertainty and determination. It was a fragile request, a chance she hoped wouldn't be met with rejection.

She could see the flicker of thoughts crossing your face. Your brow furrowed slightly, and she sensed the hesitation lingering in the air between you. It was as if you were weighing her words, measuring the sincerity of her apology against the weight of the past.

She couldn't tell if you were considering her request or if doubt still lingered in your mind.

It felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for a sign, desperately hoping that you would choose to leap with her this time.

After a long pause, a small, soft smile crept up on your face, the tension in your shoulders easing just a bit. You finally met her gaze, and the warmth in your eyes hinted at something Tara had been longing to see.

"Sure... yeah, I'd like that," you said, your voice gentle but firm, like a lifeline tossed her way.

Tara let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, her shoulders eased slightly at your response, something softening in her expression as she processed your words. It wasn't a promise, but it felt real enough.

A quiet acknowledgment that maybe this could lead somewhere different.

She looked at you for a moment longer, managing a small, uncertain smile as if not entirely sure this chance would hold but willing to take it anyway.

The silence lingered, weighty but almost comfortable. Tara held your gaze, her expression softening just a bit as she let herself settle into the quiet, not wanting to push any further. When she finally managed a small smile, it was tentative, as if she was holding onto it carefully.

"Guess I'll... see you around?" she asked, her voice a quiet murmur, like she wasn't entirely certain if she should even say it.

You gave a slight nod, already moving to close the door. The subtle acknowledgment was enough to let her feel that maybe, just maybe, things could shift—if only a little.

She shifted slightly, like she wanted to say something more but couldn't quite find the words. A small, unsure smile crossed her face as she looked up at you again, her voice softer.

With that, Tara turned to go, casting one last look back at you before turning around to walk away.

___

The next week, Tara's phone buzzed on her nightstand, pulling her from a the books scattered all over her bed.

She squinted at the screen, hoping to see your name lighting up, a sign that things were finally moving forward between you two.

Maybe it was about the plans you'd casually mentioned — plans that did not include Tara bringing out her frustrations in bed with you.

Instead, her heart sank a little as Amber's name flashed across the screen.

u free this friday?

For the first time, Tara felt a surprising clarity wash over her as she read the message. She didn't hesitate, knowing exactly how she wanted to respond without second-guessing herself.

In the past, she'd tiptoed around her replies, always afraid that Amber would judge her for whatever she said.

But now, after everything with you, she was certain of what she wanted. This time, there was no uncertainty clouding her thoughts. So, after a moment, she typed a quick reply.

im actually busy, sorry

With a breath of relief, she hit send and immediately blocked Amber's number. She felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

This time, she wouldn't be waiting for Amber's text, for promises that never changed anything.

She knew what she had now—this newfound sense of clarity—and what she wanted. And that was enough.

This was how it would stay.

[ellecdc]

hi mother i love ur writing !!! i was just wondering if you could write something with any ship that has james in it, where they're proud of reader bc she cleaned her room? i have really bad adhd and im cleaning it rn and im pretty proud of myself :) anyways its okay if not ! i love youuu !!!

thanks for your request, lovie (and congrats on cleaning your room!!!) here's a little baby blurb for you <3

marauders x roommate!reader who cleaned her room [500 words]

CW: platonic but could be read as something else, fem!reader, hints at non-platonic feelings but nothing outward

“One second, I’ll ask.” James says before he’s knocking on your bedroom door.

You had hardly raised your head to answer before he was pushing open the door door, his knock unanswered.

“Hey angel! Sirius and Remus are wondering if we want them to pick up- OH MY GOD!” He cut himself off, shouting as he looked around your room in…horror?

No, he was looking around your room in shock.

“What!?” You could hear Sirius shout from the other end of the line; a conversation that James had seemingly abandoned as he stared around your space. 

“What did you do?” James asked you breathlessly; finally moving his disbelieving stare from your belongings to yourself.

You suddenly felt horribly aware of yourself. You’d been cleaning all day; you had moved every piece of furniture and hoovered underneath and behind them, you had sorted out your closet and dresser, and you had finally organised the things that you had stashed under your bed to ‘deal with later’.

All this to say: you were sweaty, likely dirty, and you were sure your hair was in a right state.

“James what the hell is going on!? Is everything okay!?” Sirius�� muffled voice shouted from James’ phone. 

“James, you’re giving Sirius a fright.” You chided instead of drawing more attention to yourself.

James seemed to remember himself at that and brought the phone back up to his ear. “Sorry, sorry. What was that, Pads?”

Sirius’ response was quieter than before, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was still worked up.

“No, no. Sorry, everyone is fine. It’s just…bloody hell Pads, she cleaned her room!”

Another hot flash of embarrassment surged through you.

“It wasn’t that bad.” You mumbled as you folded your last shirt.

“Of course it wasn’t, angel. That’s not what I meant.” James offered; significantly softening at your worried expression. “I just know this had been on your list for a long while, and I also know how fucking hard this must have been.”

You hardly had a moment to wave him off before you heard Sirius shout “we want to see!” from the other end of the line.

Protests meeting deaf ears - because it apparently didn’t matter that they’d be home in a measly half hour - James was quickly turning the call into a facetime and pointing the camera around your room.

“Oh my god!” Sirius echoed James’ earlier sentiments. 

“It looks great, dovey!” Remus chimed in. “You must have been in there all day!”

“It looks amazing.” James agreed quickly, bending over to survey under your bed. “Think you can do mine next?”

“Prongs!” Remus was quick to admonish. “No, she’s done quite enough for the day I’d say.”

“Forget I asked anything Prongs; we are getting pizza and we are celebrating.” Sirius decided. 

“We don’t need to celebrate the fact that I cleaned my room, you sods.” You scolded.

“Oi.” Sirius called with faux severity. “Let us celebrate our sweet girl if we so please.”

“We should get a cake, too.” You heard him add as he and James ended the call.

“It looks really good, angel.” James repeated; no longer looking around your room in awe, but rather at you with a peculiarly soft expression. 

“Thank you Jamie.” 

James spent a moment longer smiling at you before he was turning to leave your room. “I’ll set up the living room for us. What movie do you want to watch? Don’t answer that; I already know!”

[bunnliix]

Somebody I used to Know

I wrote this a couple weeks ago when I was feeling angsty, so this is not a reflection of my mood today, since I got Stray Kids tickets! But, have some angst with this fic because this fic hurts/

Pairing: Chan x reader Summary: You realize the distance between you and Chan, and think about your friendship with the idol. wc: 2.6k Genre: Angst Warnings: Angst (it's really angsty y'all), hurt/no comfort, reader being sad, crying, anxiety, reader having a really rough time here, panicking on the side of Felix and Chan, yelling I think, this is just really sad and we got no happy ending. Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society Beta'd by the lovely @palindrome969

It had taken you a while to realize just how distant you and Chris had become. You had been friends with him for years, even before he had left for Seoul to pursue being an idol. Despite the long distance between the two of you, your friendship had remained strong, both of you finding time to maintain it and spend time with each other.

Now, you had realized that more and more time passed between the times you would talk with him. It made sense, Chan had gotten busier as time had passed, Stray Kids shooting up in popularity. But it had really been in the last year that he had messaged you less and less. You had to message him first most of the time nowadays, and even then, the likelihood of getting a response quickly, or at all, wasn’t great. You felt like you found out more about what he was up to via social media, than from Christopher himself. You were used to hearing every little thing that happened, both for himself personally, and for his group. You didn’t quite know when that stopped, but it had, and that feeling and realization hurt. You had been one of his closest friends for years, and now you felt that he was an acquaintance, almost a stranger to you.

And now here you sit, in a hotel in Seoul, having planned a trip to see him and the others. Felix had helped you plan this trip, seeing as you hadn’t gotten a chance to see Chan in a couple years now, due to busy social and work lives. You were grateful to the other Aussie, but now as you sat here to unanswered texts from either man, you felt that maybe this trip had been stupid. You figured Felix would make sure that there was time for you two to meet, but you guessed he forgot, even as close as two days ago, when you checked in for the final time before flying here. 

You laid back on the bed, when your phone buzzed and when you pulled it up to your face, you saw it was a message from Chris.

‘Sorry, I can’t talk now. Can we talk later?’

You sighed, feeling tears well in your eyes as you responded, ‘That’s fine. Talk to you later Chris.’

You wallowed in your sadness for a while, losing track of time while you let yourself drown in the silence of the hotel room. You didn’t know what to do now. Felix still hadn’t answered you, and it’s not like you had ever gotten any of the other’s numbers. Sure, you could go to JYPE and try to see him there, but you didn’t think your chances of even getting in would be good. That left you with a trip to Seoul where you now had nothing to do.

After another hour of laying there, you decided to get up, decided to go and explore the city. Because why not? You should at least use your time here wisely, and despite being friends, you had never travelled to or explored Seoul before.

You decided to wander, letting yourself be guided wherever your feet took you, finding yourself walking down side streets filled with little shops and buying whatever caught your eye. You spent the majority of the daytime that remained like this, just finding the little family run shops and cheering yourself up by buying things that made you happy. 

When you returned to the hotel later that evening, having had dinner and carrying multiple bags, you also found yourself getting a message from Felix.

‘Sorry! I was busy today, the group had rehearsals for our concerts in a couple days. Also, there will be a ticket for you, for the concert in two days. You’ll also have backstage access after the concert ends.’ The message said, along with the location of the concert.

Well, you guessed this will be your chance to see Chris then, even if it was just at a concert. You moved to drop your bags on the table in the room, moving to figure out a suitable outfit for a concert. You found more than a couple options, leaving them laid out to ask Felix his thoughts on them later, figuring the idol might have some opinions.

(linebreak)

You looked up at the arena hosting the concert, finding yourself among thousands of your friend’s fans, and somehow seeing the pickets of him and those dressed up like him only made you feel sadder, not happier. You had been effectively ignored by Chris, the man not having messaged you. And that shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did make standing here today even harder. You no longer felt like a friend, you felt like one of their fans. And no hatred to their fans, they’re wonderful people, but you hated being reduced to coming to a concert for a chance to even see him, let alone talk to him. 

You found a staff member, and asked them for directions to where Felix had told you to go, to retrieve your ticket and anything else you needed. You were quickly directed to where you needed to go, finding one of their managers and after proving you were who you said you were, you were then ushered to the line up with the rest of those who had won the battle for floor tickets. You didn’t really care if you were at the front, and found yourself towards the middle of the line. Though this didn’t stay that way for long, finding yourself pulled by a staff member to your rightful place, at least as far as the number on your wristband told you.

Because you had arrived late, and maybe to the displeasure of those around you, you didn’t have to wait too long before you were let into the stadium. You found yourself right against the barrier, despite your wish not to be that close. But here you were, and within a half an hour, the group your friend led was walking out onto the stage for soundcheck.

You watched as they waved at all of their fans, and you guessed you were now included in that category, and you noticed that Felix saw you, smiling and waving at you, which you returned, though you knew your smile was strained. You could see how the blonde wished he could say hello, but this was not the time nor the place, and he was quickly swept back into the group to start the soundcheck rehearsal for the fans. You watched as they performed song after song, and interacted with their fans in between.

Somehow Chris never walked by your side of the stage, though almost every other member had. You instead watched him as he interacted with the crowd of fans, saw the genuine smile on his face as he did, remembering a time when you got those smiles too. You felt tears well in your eyes, and you quickly tried to blink them away, and just as you wished hadn’t happened, Felix walked by and saw the tears in your eyes before you could hide them. You know he saw them, his eyebrows furrowing in concern and worry, but before he could do anything, he was grabbed by Hyunjin, who dragged him away.

You just stared at the stage for the rest of the soundcheck, which thankfully only lasted for another fifteen minutes. You didn’t quite know what to feel anymore, all of your feelings hitting you at once. You moved towards the back of the area you were at, letting others take your spot at the barricade. You didn’t want to be up close anymore, you fear you would sob if you were there the entire time. And being at the back allowed you to stay away from the view of either Aussie idol when it came time for the actual show to start.

(linebreak)

“Y/n’s here tonight,” Felix said, as he sat down next to Chan.

“What? She’s here?” Chan said, confused. How was she here at the concert, let alone in South Korea? He didn’t know she was supposed to be here, and she should have told him that she was here.

Felix nodded, “Yeah, she’s out in the crowd. She looked like she was going to cry at one point,” he said, both to himself and to Chan, a bit confused at Chan’s reactions. Felix had told the older Aussie that his friend was coming to Korea to see him. How could he have forgotten? He remembered it clear as day, he told the older man while he had been in the studio with 3racha.

“Oh,” Chan said, not sure what to say. He didn’t really know what to do with that. Maybe she was just emotional to finally be able to see him performing? To his knowledge, she had never gotten the chance to see him or the group as a whole perform live.

Before Felix could say anything more, their manager stuck his head into the green room, interrupting anything the blonde was going to say, “Guys, five minutes till show time, let’s go.”

Felix lost any chance of saying anything further, as the group of eight men walked out to start their concert.

The start of the actual concert came very quickly, and you watched as they all came out, their energy insanely high, and even as your emotions swirled within you, and the realizations of what your choices were, you felt yourself be absorbed into that energy as well.

You were merely an observer within the thousands of fans, feeling like you were on the outside of it all. You watched every interaction Chan had with fans, and though you knew it wasn’t the same, you realized that his happiness here was more than you had ever received in recent times. He seemed lively, happy, enjoying life, and as the concert continued, you realized that you no longer had a place in his life.

You realized that no amount of effort you could put into this friendship would make it work. Chan had stopped putting the effort in, and maybe it was time for you to do the same. Taking one long look at your friend on stage, seeing him looking over towards you, though you doubt he even saw you, you saw him smiling and happy, and that was the best way you could think to remember him. You only ever wanted him to be happy, and maybe his happiness didn’t include you anymore. 

Feeling a tear trail down your cheek, you turned and started walking away from the floor, and walking away from your shot at talking to Christopher. You knew that you could have taken the chance to talk to Chris and figure all of this out, but would it really do anything with how much the friendship had died already? 

You silently walked out of the stadium, a clear contrast to all the happy and excited fans who filled the stadium. You had located one of their managers, who had been alerted to your presence, by their recognition of you, and returned the lanyard that would have granted you backstage access. You told them, when asked, that you weren’t feeling well, and that you were returning to your hotel.

It took a while to get back to your hotel room, and instead of changing, you just crawled into the bed and laid there, zoning out and staring up at the ceiling as tears fell down your cheeks. You didn’t know how long you laid there, until your phone started buzzing like crazy, and you found that both Felix and Chan were messaging you. You numbly read through their messages, and as you took a couple deep breaths, you created a group chat for the three of you. 

You first thanked Felix for doing his best to get you and Chan the opportunity to meet up again and hang out. Because you were thankful. He had been helping you do this, as well as informing Chan about it, all while being busy himself. You even thanked him for the concert ticket, and that you were grateful to see them live, just once. As you kept typing, messages from the two came flooding in, each one more concerned than the last. When Felix stopped typing, you think he must have come to one of two conclusions, either you were ending the friendship, or doing something worse than that.

‘Christopher, I will always cherish our memories together, the decade long friendship that we shared. But I think we’re on different paths now, I think fate has said that our journey ends here. So with a heavy heart, I wish you all the best, and I’ll always love you, even though we won’t get to talk anymore. Goodbye Chris.’’

You left the group chat after that, not seeing any of the responses from either idol, and while it took you a moment to push yourself to do it, you deleted both of their numbers. Setting your phone down and ignoring the buzzing, you pulled your laptop out, deciding to cut your trip short, and rebooking your flight to leave midday tomorrow. You knew that as much as you’d like to stay here longer, if you wanted to avoid contact with your now ex-friend, it would be better to leave.

You then moved to pack up your things, not that you had many to begin with, as well as laying out your comfiest outfit for the morning, and packing away the outfit you had on currently. But not before taking one last selfie in it, so you could look back on this day, as sad as it would be.

You had arrived at the airport a couple hours early, having checked out of your hotel room early, knowing Felix had known what hotel you were in, and hoping to avoid that interaction. Thankfully the check-in process was quick, seeing as you were there much earlier than others would be, and it was just under 30 minutes before you were making your way over to security. You were in line waiting to enter security when you heard someone call out your name. You turned your head to find Chan, a hat and mask on, but neither hid his eyes, his eyes that were red and bloodshot as he stared right at you.

“Please! Talk to me!” Chan begged you, standing on the other side of the barrier that separated the two of you.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to muster up the words to respond to him. You knew this was the coward’s way out, but you just turned around and moved into security all while he kept calling out to you, his cries getting more desperate.

You went through security, knowing that he was still on the other side hoping that you’d turn around and come back out. But you couldn’t.

Instead, once you passed through security, you opened up your phone to send him one more text.

‘I’m sorry it had to end like this, Chris. I’m truly sorry. I’m a coward who can’t muster up the words to explain why, but this is better for both of us. I won’t have to worry if you really still want to be friends or if I still have a place in your life, and you can forget about me and continue making your fans happy.’

You knew you could absolutely be the villain in this story, and you were okay being that. No matter what, you couldn’t hurt him. Chris was too good for you to ever do that. You turned your notifications off as you put your phone in your pocket, heading to your gate, and leaving this all behind.

Taglist: @bethelighthalazia

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 5. first date

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You are left picking up the pieces from the events of the carnival night, in more ways than you expected.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, jealousy, domestic violence and implied SA (nothing descriptive), mental and physical abuse, bar-fight type violence

WC: 6.8K

A/N: This is a tough chapter, please heed the warnings and if anyone thinks I need to add anything, please let me know

Series Masterlist

You stared listlessly at the blades of the ceiling fan swirling above your head as you listened to the town waking up outside your window. It was getting harder and harder to force yourself out of bed, the all too familiar feeling of emptiness weighing you down with each passing day.

It's been almost a week since that night at the carnival. Almost a week since you've seen him. You wished you could remember what his lips felt like, but whenever you thought about that night, all you could see was the look on his face when you finally told him the truth. His hands dropped from your waist like you had burned him. His eyes hardened like you had slapped him. And before you even had a chance to explain, he was gone.

It was a miracle you were able to make it home, tears clouding your vision as you drove down the quiet streets back to your little apartment, all alone. At first, you had tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, but after an hour, you weren't so sure anymore. So, you picked up your phone and called him. You weren't even sure what you would say, but you needed to try to make things right. It didn't end up mattering, anyway. He never answered, which should have been telling for what was to come, but you still persisted.

You called him two more times - once more that night, and again the following morning, but still he ignored your calls. Now, you stared at your phone, looking at the unanswered texts you sent, hoping he would be tempted to respond that way, but there was no such luck.

Please call me back, I want to explain.

I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.

Where are you?

The last text was sent Monday afternoon when he didn't show up at the diner for the first time since you started. Even Betty looked shocked, but you wouldn't tell her what happened. How could you?

The rest of the week was the same. Every day you glanced up at the door, hoping to see his familiar frame walk through, hoping that maybe enough time would have passed for him to give you another chance, but all week he was missing.

You overheard Tommy talking with Maria in the kitchen, asking if she had seen his brother. Was he doing this to make things worse for you? Inevitably, the truth would come out if he kept this up, and you would be left to deal with the onslaught of questions. Was he purposely trying to hurt you?

Little did you know, later that evening you would receive your answer.

It was Friday, and you were on the schedule for the dinner shift. At least you had the luxury of laying in bed, sulking with only your overpowering guilt and the enormous stuffed penguin he won for you to keep you company. You stared at it now, wondering why you didn't shove it in your closet so you wouldn't have to look at it every time you walked into your room. But you knew the answer. You were punishing yourself for being selfish, for being dishonest, for being a horrible person who deserved what she got.

Eventually around noon, you pulled yourself out of bed, hunger getting the best of you and the smells from the pizza place downstairs didn't help matters.

You got a reminder on your calendar that you were supposed to go to book club tomorrow night. Aside from work, you hadn't left your apartment all week. You had to cancel. There was no way you would be able to go through with it. You could barely muster the energy to shower, and the only reason you managed to drag yourself to work was for the money. No longer did you have anything to look forward to now that Joel made his feelings crystal clear with his absence. What little enjoyment you had in this new life was long gone.

Deciding that you should take a short walk to try to clear your head and grab a treat from the coffee shop, you tugged on jeans and a T-shirt before pulling your hair back and grabbing a pair of sunglasses before heading down the stairs. At least with the sunglasses you could avoid eye contact.

Right as you were locking up after yourself, you heard your name. You grimaced but turned around and forced a smile when you saw Hailey approaching with a friendly wave.

"Hey," you said, giving her a small hug when she got closer.

"I haven't seen you all week! Have you been sick or something?"

"Something like that," you mumbled, adjusting your sunglasses.

"I've been trying to catch you, I wanted to show you some pics from last weekend. You were there, right? I thought I saw you tagged in something," Hailey said as she scrolled on her phone, presumably looking for pictures she took from the carnival.

"Tagged?" you repeated, confused. She nodded and held up her phone, showing you the Facebook app. You shook your head and frowned.

"I'm not on Facebook," you said to her. She pursed her lips and swiped through a few images before finally stopping on a video. It was terrible lighting and the sound was awful but you could clearly see the yellow dress you were wearing as you watched Joel play the target game. Even from the shitty video you could see the obvious attraction in your eyes as you gazed at him. A chorus of cheers followed after each pull of the trigger, but your eyes remained glued to Joel's back, frozen in place.

"Isn't this your page?" she asked, clicking on your name and showing you the profile. You took the phone from her with shaky hands, scrolling through the information and pictures listed. It was you. Everything listed was correct, but you never created this page. You wouldn't have been that stupid. Then the realization hit you and your blood ran cold.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and went back to the video, noticing at the top the location was tagged along with you, Joel, and a few other people from town you barely recognized.

"Oh my god," you whispered to yourself.

"What's wrong?"

You handed her the phone back, tears burning the back of your eyes.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go," you said, turning back around to fumble with your keys. You raced up the stairs, making sure both doors were double locked before hiding in your bedroom, your phone clutched in your hand as you looked up your fake profile, trying to learn more but you already knew.

Patrick was coming for you.

You were downright terrified to work that night. If he found you, and it was just a matter of time at this point, he most likely would wait until you were alone. He would wait until he could follow you, find out where you lived, and only then would he make his move. The idea of walking home at night seemed like a really bad idea, so even though it was a ten minute walk, you chose instead to drape yourself in an oversized hoodie with sunglasses and jog to your car, glancing nervously around the parking lot for any suspicious vehicles before sliding into the driver's seat.

Anxiously, you checked your mirrors the whole short drive to the diner, but it didn't appear that you were being followed. You knew once you got to work, you would be safe. Being around other people was your only defense. Then you had the weekend off, so you could hide and figure out what to do. All you had to do was get through your shift.

The diner was busy. It was Friday, and the carnival was no longer in town, so people were going back to their regular routines. Many people in town tended to stop by for dinner before the only movie theater in town ran the 7pm showing, so that typically meant a 5:30 rush.

Fortunately, you were busy. It helped keep your mind off everything: Patrick. Joel. The mess you created everywhere you went. It was all pushed to the back of your mind as you ran around the dining room, dropping off food and wiping down tables. You hadn't even noticed the familiar voice talking to Maria at the hostess stand, even though you had been yearning to hear it all week.

You were filling the ice when you heard him somewhere behind you, and you were so relieved you almost cried. Finally, he came back and you could explain to him what happened. He was the sheriff, after all. And you trusted him. If anybody might be able to do something to help you, it was him.

You turned around with a deep breath, then froze at what you saw. Joel was seated at one of the booths, not at the counter like he typically would be, and gazing adoringly across the table at Nikki.

He was on a date.

You thought you were going to be sick. You clutched your stomach and turned away, blinking back the tears but before you could go hide in the back, Maria spotted you.

"Do you mind taking care of Joel? Gina's got too many tables," she asked. You thought you would faint the way all the blood drained from your face. All you could manage to do was nod, and she hurried back to the hostess stand, completely oblivious.

You forced your feet to move, keeping your gaze down as you pulled out your pad of paper and pen with shaky fingers and forcing a weak smile when you approached their table. You weren't sure if his intention was to have you wait on him, or if he just wanted you to see him with another woman, or maybe he didn't care about you at all. But his reaction gave you nothing to work with since he barely spared you a glance when you greeted them. However, Nikki recognized you and gave you a warm smile.

"I don't think I knew you worked here!" she said, and when Joel realized you knew each other, he finally seemed to react. A muscle in his jaw twitched when he dragged his gaze up to look between the two of you, no playfulness or warmth to be found in his eyes. You swallowed and tried to focus on your job, ignoring Joel as best you could, but Nikki spoke before you could even get the specials out.

"We know each other from book club," she explained to him before turning back to you. "Will I be seeing you tomorrow?"

"Oh, um, no I don't think so," you said nervously, feeling Joel's eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

"Oh, that's a shame! We had such a fun time last month," she said with a giggle. You had to admit, they made a good match. She was beautiful and seemed very nice. You should be happy for them both, but you knew the moment you got home, you would collapse into tears.

"You should go," Joel said gruffly, and it took all the strength you had to make yourself look at him. He no longer gave you the same look he used to, and it broke your heart. He looked at you like a stranger, like he barely even knew you. It felt more painful than anything Patrick ever did.

"Maybe I will," you said, tearing your eyes away from him. Before Nikki could say anything else, you rambled off the specials, your mind on autopilot. You ripped a hole in your paper with your pen when you saw out of the corner of your eye Nikki link her fingers with his across the table. You mumbled something about being right back and hurried off, tears welling up in your eyes.

This was too cruel. You endured a lot in your time, but this? This was too much.

As you filled up their drinks and flicked away a stray tear from the corner of your eye, you heard Joel's voice clear his throat behind you at the counter. You turned around, drinks in hand. He was leaning over the counter, trying to stay hidden from sight.

"I didn't mean for -"

"It's fine," you said coldly, staring him down. He blinked at you, and for the first time you saw a shred of guilt pass over his features. When he didn't say anything else, you shifted your weight and glanced over his shoulder at Nikki.

"You better go. Your date's looking for you."

His gaze fell and he pinched the bridge of his nose, about to say something else but you didn't let him. You could only take so much. By the time he looked back up, you were halfway across the dining room, setting down their drinks and giving your attention to your other tables.

You drove home that night with hot tears finally trailing down your cheeks, your mind completely fixated now on Joel and Nikki. It hurt how he moved on so quickly. Maybe you misread him. Maybe he was just looking for a conquest and nothing more. What else would possibly explain it? For the first time, you wondered if you were the one better off after all.

Would he kiss her goodnight? Would they have sex?

Did they already have sex?

You parked your car and hunched over the steering wheel, letting the tears flow freely now that you were home and no one was around.

A sharp rap on your window pulled you out of your misery, making you jump. You wiped your cheeks before turning to look, your eyes widening and your heart immediately getting stuck in your throat.

Patrick just shook his head in disappointment, then beckoned you out of the car with his index finger. With a shaky hand, you reached for the door handle and swung it open, sliding out of the seat and taking a deep breath. Just when you thought the day couldn't get any worse.

"When are you gonna learn I'm never gonna give up on us, babe?"

After he left, you laid there in your bed, staring up at the fan swirling above you once again and the smell of that fucking cologne permeating your sheets. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. You couldn't help but think you brought this on yourself. Maybe if you didn't go to that fucking carnival in the first place, none of this would have happened. Joel wouldn't be icing you out, Patrick wouldn't have found you, and you wouldn't be cleaning up the mess he left between your legs while you sobbed over the bathroom sink. Every time this happened you were eternally grateful for your oldest cousin back home who took you to get birth control at the local clinic behind your husband's back. If not for her, who knows how much worse things would be.

But here you were, finding yourself slipping right back into the same situation you were trying to escape. This time, he promised to go to AA and NA. He promised he would try to get better. Part of you wanted to believe him, because what other choice did you have? He would always find you. And it was encouraging he didn't insist on staying with you at your apartment, nor did he hit you. This time.

Just as you were contemplating whether or not to flee again, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. You sighed and made your way over, your body and mind exhausted, the events of the day catching up with you. You lifted your phone up and froze. Blinking a few times, you sunk down into your mattress and opened up the message.

Joel: I'm sorry about earlier

You sniffled and stared at your phone, having no idea what to say. Had he just texted you the day before, or even that morning, maybe things would have been different. You decided to ignore it for now, turning your phone on silent before crawling under the covers and trying to block out the smell.

After a fitful night's sleep, the next morning you eagerly checked your phone, hoping for another text from Joel, but you only had one from Hailey. Disappointed, you opened it up, reading her message about book club that night and who was hosting. You reluctantly agreed to go at the last minute, figuring you would at least be around people for a little while, meaning you would be safe. Besides, you wouldn't be able to avoid Nikki forever. The town was too small and you were sure everyone was already buzzing about their date last night.

You swiped back to your message with Joel, staring at the words again, wondering if you should respond. What if he wasn't alone? What if Nikki spent the night with him? You put your phone down, choosing once and for all not to reply before burying yourself under the covers again.

Going to the book club meeting was a mistake. You politely declined a glass of wine, and you regretted it about twenty minutes in when Nikki began telling the whole group about her date with Joel.

You sat there, listening to every word, each one like a stab to the heart while she told all the ladies about how chivalrous he was when he picked her up, what they talked about, what movie they saw. Every minute bringing you closer and closer to tears.

That could have been you if you had just been honest with him, or maybe just stood up for yourself once in a while instead of letting Patrick steamroll you every chance he got for the past five years.

A couple women glanced your way as Nikki spoke. You had to imagine some people saw you together at the carnival. Towards the end of the night, the heat between you was palpable, but you were pretty certain nobody saw you kiss. You did your best to look indifferent, to act like Joel was just a friend and there were no feelings there, but it was hard. At one point, Hailey asked if you were okay and you had to lie about having a headache, hoping it would explain your quiet behavior.

"It was a little strange at the end of the night, though," Nikki said, finally wrapping up her story.

"How so?" one of the older ladies asked, and you could see the flush creeping up her neck before she even spoke.

"Well, he didn't seem to take my hint about coming inside for coffee when he dropped me off. Or maybe he just didn't want to..." she said, trailing off.

"Oh please, who wouldn't want to," Hailey chimed in, making Nikki giggle. "He's probably just so rusty he wouldn't know it unless you made him a big neon sign that said 'Joel, sleep with me'."

That caused a ripple of laughter amongst the women and you took a steadying breath, already planning on announcing you needed to leave early due to your fake headache when Nikki added one more piece of interesting information.

"Yeah, maybe. But even saying good night, it felt like he didn't really want to kiss me."

"But you did kiss?" another woman asked, and she nodded.

"It was... not what I expected," she admitted, pink dusting her cheeks as she took another sip of wine for courage.

"What do you mean?" Hailey asked, and you silently thanked her for being so nosy so you didn't have to ask the same questions that kept popping up in your head.

"I don't know, I thought he would be a better kisser. It was very... boring. Like, there was no passion or excitement."

All the other women murmured to themselves in shock while you remained perfectly silent. That was most definitely not the experience you had kissing Joel.

Fortunately, they moved on from the topic of Joel shortly thereafter, and you decided to force yourself to stay until the end. Given how horrible the whole week had been, you allowed yourself to feel a little bit of hope after Nikki's comment.

He didn't want to kiss her. Maybe you could still figure out a way to fix this.

Joel groaned as he rolled over in bed and snatched his phone off the charger, glaring at the device and mentally cursing whoever texted him so fucking early on a Sunday. Then his sleep addled brain jolted awake and his heart skipped a beat, wondering if your name was going to pop up on his phone again, but he was met with instant disappointment when he saw Nikki's name instead.

That couldn't be a good sign.

He should be happy to see that Nikki texted him. Deciding to blame it on the early hour and nothing more, he moved past it and set his phone back down to read the message later. He closed his eyes and sighed. Now that he was awake, all of the turmoil from the past week came rushing back to him, always plaguing his every waking moment.

He hadn't realized how much you were hurting until he finally saw you at the diner that night. It was one of his biggest regrets, taking Nikki there. He knew what he was doing, but he did it anyway, and it hurt you. But you didn't deserve that. Even though you nearly shattered his world with your secret, you still didn't deserve it.

His intention was to try to prove he wasn't as hung up on you as he really was. That it was fine that you were married. That he could move on.

It was a little cruel to go right to Nikki. He knew she had feelings for him, and he took advantage of it, all to prove he was over you. And it wasn't even true. He couldn't stop thinking about you. And now he was going to end up hurting two women, just to protect his ego.

So he decided he would try to make it work with Nikki. She was a pretty girl, she was nice and kind. Maybe, in time, he could develop real feelings for her. But when she kissed him the other night, he felt absolutely nothing. Not like what he felt when he kissed you. And that worried him.

If he knew now what he would be missing out on, could he really be happy with someone who didn't give him a fraction of what he felt with you?

He wished more than ever that he didn't let his emotions get the best of him that night. Maybe you had a reasonable explanation. He couldn't fathom what that could be, but he should have at least heard you out. You wouldn't have intentionally hurt him. In fact, you tried to tell him, in your own way. You constantly pushed him away, kept him at arms length, but he just kept coming back for more. Was it even your fault? Did he pressure you so much that you were forced to share something you weren't ready to share?

Letting his desperation win, he picked up his phone again and checked to see if you maybe texted him back in the last five minutes. When he quickly determined you didn't, he opened up Facebook. Maybe you replied to his private message on there.

Joel didn't get nervous often. He had a steady hand, a level head, and had a knack for seeing two steps ahead. He typically had a calming presence, which fit well for his job when he was able to de-escalate situations naturally and with ease.

But today, he was nervous.

For whatever reason, you didn't respond to his text message the other night, but you did decide to respond to the Facebook message he sent at an ungodly hour in the hopes he could get through to you some other way. And by some miracle, it worked.

You had agreed to meet him for coffee and talk. It was unexpected, he thought he would have to try harder, but you were very agreeable to seeing him.

He wasn't sure what he would say exactly, but he knew he wanted to apologize sincerely and give you the opportunity to explain your situation. If not to get some closure, then to at least make going back to the diner less uncomfortable.

He took a deep breath as he raked his fingers through his hair and swung open the door of the coffee shop. He glanced around the room before his eyes fell on you: hunched over and staring down at a small cup of coffee on the table in front of you.

He took a step forward, then stopped when he saw a man with a buzz cut and a beard sit down across from you. Joel didn't recognize him and he was fairly certain he could recognize just about anybody in town at this point. Something about the way you glanced up at the man across from you set his teeth on edge. You didn't smile. You didn't laugh. You looked pale and your eyes looked tired. He watched as the two of you exchanged a few words, and based on the man's body language, the mood was tense. Then suddenly, he reached his arm out across the table to grab your wrist and you jumped, fear flickering across your face. Even from this distance, Joel could see the whites of the man's knuckles as he squeezed your delicate skin under his firm grip.

Joel's nostrils flared and his jaw clenched and before he knew it, he was marching over to your table. Your eyes flicked up when you noticed him, looking like you had seen a ghost. Your eyes widened and your lips parted as you sat back in your chair. The man you were with noticed your reaction and finally loosened his grip, and you immediately tucked your hands on your lap underneath the table. He turned around and looked up with a scowl just as Joel approached.

"Everythin' alright here?" Joel asked, staring at you. You opened your mouth to reply, but the man across from you stood up, cutting you off.

"Everything's just great, Joel," he said with a sneer. Joel tore his eyes away from you to regard the man you were with. He looked him up and down, sizing him up, before answering.

"Sorry, have we met?"

"In a way," he said, crossing his muscular arms across his chest. Joel glanced at you again, but you were just staring down at your coffee cup, refusing to look at either of them.

"Don't look at her, look at me," he said, and Joel's head snapped back around with a glare.

"Excuse me?"

That was when Joel smelled the man's cologne. The same one Sarah bought for him. The same one you told him you were sensitive to. The wheels began turning in his head as he tried to put the pieces together.

"Patrick," you said quietly, trying to calm them both down when you felt other customers giving you curious looks.

"Shut up," he growled at you, still staring at Joel. Joel stiffened, the anger building low in his stomach, but he fought to keep a clear head.

"Hey, take it easy," Joel tried to interject, but Patrick scoffed. As his anger began to rise, Joel could see his neck splotching with red and veins popping out under his reddened skin.

"Don't stand there and act like you haven't been fucking my wife!" Patrick all but shouted, pulling the attention of everyone in the coffee shop now. Joel balked and took a step back.

"You've got it all wrong, we've never-"

"Patrick, I'm not sleeping with him, get a grip!" you snapped, finally standing up from the table.

"The hell you aren't. Why's he sending you messages in the middle of the night on Facebook saying he misses you and he's sorry and he needs to see you?" Patrick asked, turning on you now.

Your jaw dropped and your cheeks flushed pink, your surprised gaze bouncing between the two men and that was when Joel figured it out. Patrick lured him there to cause a fight, and you looked to be completely in the dark.

Joel glanced around nervously at all the onlookers now, murmuring amongst themselves, gossip he was sure would spread to the ends of town before noon.

"Listen, why don't we go outside and calm down. I can explain, it's not what it looks like," Joel said, lowering his voice.

"I'm staying right here," Patrick said, sitting back down in his chair and jutting his chin out with a glare. He seemed hellbent on doing this his way, and Joel was not in the mood.

"You're disturbin' the peace. These people are tryin' to enjoy their mornin' here. Either come outside with me, or we can do this a different way," Joel replied, pulling the hem of his shirt up to flash the gold star on his belt. Patrick laughed, then leaned over to grab his wallet out of his back pocket, showing Joel his own badge.

"Philly PD. 9th precinct. Wanna try that again, sheriff?"

That bit of information stunned Joel, momentarily at a loss for words.

"Hell, honey, at least you got a type," Patrick muttered to you, putting his wallet away. You grimaced and dropped your head between your shoulders, looking defeated.

"Either way, I gotta ask you to leave," Joel said, standing his ground. He could see the flush rising up Patrick's neck again, his fingers curling into a fist on the table before you stepped to stand between the two men.

"C'mon, Patrick. Let's go," you urged, holding your hand out shakily. Patrick slowly turned his head to look up at you. There was no love in his eyes. No affection or care. All Joel could see was raw anger.

"Why don't you come down to the station with me. We can talk this out, hm?" Joel asked him calmly, not feeling comfortable letting you leave with this man. You turned your head to the side, your eyes unable or unwilling to meet his.

"I got it, Joel. I'm sorry," you said softly over your shoulder.

Joel watched Patrick stand up and mock you under his breath before snatching your hand and pulling you roughly to his side, leading you out the front door. He was scrambling to find another reason to keep you from walking out of there, but he was too late. The pair of you were already halfway down the block by the time Joel was able to gather himself and walk out the door.

He stood on the sidewalk with his hands on his hips, watching as Patrick nearly dragged you up the street. You managed to turn your head once to look at him, your eyes wide and filled with worry before you turned the corner, disappearing from sight.

Nikki was talking his ear off, all bubbly and excited as she led Joel into one of the few bars in town. A blind man could see she was trying too hard. She was the one who came up with the idea of drinks, turning down dinner beforehand, and wearing one of the shorter dresses he's seen on a woman in a long time.

He realized about half an hour into the night it must have been a real blow to her self esteem when he turned her down after their first date because she was hanging all over him, pushing her chest against him every chance she could and even encouraged him to do a shot with her. He entertained the idea once but stopped her after that. He wasn't lying when he told you he wasn't much of a drinker, and he certainly wasn't interested in having meaningless, sloppy sex with Nikki, so he tried to slow her down and distract her.

"C'mon, why don't we order you somethin' to eat?" Joel said, flagging down the bartender for a menu, but Nikki shook her head and pouted.

"I'm hungry, but not for food, Joel," she whispered in his ear, then brazenly slid her hand over his thigh to try to cup him over his jeans. His hand shot down and grabbed her wrist.

"What are you doin'?" he asked with a nervous chuckle, and she groaned, pulling her hand back to wrap her arms around his shoulders instead.

"Isn't it obvious?" she replied, leaning forward to nibble on his ear. He made a face and untangled her arms from around him, pulling her back to her own stool.

"Listen, Nikki-"

A roar of laughter and some broken glass from the other side of the crowded bar caught Joel's attention. It was a Sunday night, but it was busy. There was a big football game on above the bar and it seemed to pull in all the men in town that evening. It was no wonder Joel didn't notice Patrick until that point.

He watched him through the throngs of bodies as he stumbled around the pool table with a couple other younger men from town. He looked like he was wasted: his eyes were bloodshot, his pupils blown wide, and his face was bright pink. Nikki followed Joel's gaze and turned back to him, confused.

"Who's that?" she asked, but Joel ignored her and instead waved down the bartender again.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked, wiping his hands with a worn out rag.

"What's goin' on over there, Hank?" Joel asked, nodding in Patrick's direction, watching as he grabbed the ass of a blonde girl heading to the bathroom.

"He's been here for hours," Hank said, leaning across the bar to keep his voice as low as possible. "I started waterin' down his drinks around 5, but he keeps gettin' worse and worse. Told one of his friends there to take him outside, I think he's too far gone and won't take kindly to me askin' him to leave."

Joel nodded and continued to watch. His skin looked red and his hair looked damp with sweat.

"What's wrong?" Nikki purred in his ear, trying to get his attention back on her, but he shook his head.

"Somethin' ain't right," he mumbled.

"I think he's married to that new waitress at the diner," Hank continued. Nikki sat back in her seat and said your name, her eyes beginning to clear. Hank snapped his fingers and pointed at her.

"Yep, that's the one. Was sayin' some real god awful stuff earlier 'bout her to those guys. Now you know I hear my fair share of bawdy talk 'round here, but this was enough to even make me blush."

Joel cursed under his breath and stood up from his stool. Nikki grabbed his arm and frowned.

"Where are you going?"

"Just gonna have a talk with him," Joel said, shrugging her hand off as he pushed his way through the crowd. As Joel approached the pool table, Patrick's drunken gaze fell on him and he smirked.

"Well, look who it is boys," Patrick said, his voice too loud as he stumbled to lean against the wall. "If it ain't the sheriff of this here wild west." Patrick laughed at his own joke, but the other three men he was with quieted down when they saw Joel.

"I think you oughta head home. Seems like you've had enough this evenin'," Joel said, his voice steady.

"I don't think I like you telling me what to do," Patrick said, his smile slipping as he pushed off the wall and took a few steps forward. One of the younger men that was playing pool with Patrick set his cue down on the table and spoke up.

"Hey man, let's just head out - "

"Shut the fuck up, I'll handle this asshole," Patrick turned and yelled, causing the whole bar to go quiet. Joel took a deep breath and reached behind him for his handcuffs.

"I don't fucking think so," Patrick said, his eyes locked on Joel's hand, but Joel just shook his head.

"You ain't givin' me much of a choice," he replied, but before he could blink, Patrick reared back and swung, his meaty fist coming in direct contact with Joel's chest, momentarily knocking the air out of his lungs. Luckily, Patrick was too drunk and missed Joel's face. But Joel was still relatively sober, and therefore much quicker. He lunged forward and clocked Patrick right in the nose, making him stumble backwards clutching his face with a pained howl.

People scattered out of the way, some men calling out to Patrick, telling him to stop, but most were just encouraging the fight with drunken excitement.

Once Patrick got his bearings, he ran forward at full speed, aiming to knock Joel down to the ground but he dodged him with ease and instead sent him flying head first into an empty table. He rolled over with a groan, blood trickling from his nose, a bright purple bruise already forming under his eye.

Joel leaned over him with a grin.

"You done?"

Patrick just groaned again, his hands coming up to rub his head. Joel took the opportunity to snatch his wrist and twist him around on the floor. Pressing his knee into Patrick's back, he pulled his other arm around and handcuffed him before pulling out his cell and dialing the number for the station.

Once Joel loaded Patrick into the back of Bobby's cruiser, telling his deputy to book him and he would deal with it in the morning, the rest of the bar went back to watching the football game, the excitement now over and done with. Joel scanned around and found Nikki seated exactly where he left her, but she looked less than pleased. He sighed and pushed his way through the crowd, back to his date.

"Hey, sorry 'bout -"

"I think I'm ready to leave, Joel," she said curtly, standing up and snatching her purse from the bar.

"Alright," he said. He led her outside and was heading to his truck when she stopped in front of a waiting car. He turned to look at her, confused.

"I asked a friend to come get me," she explained, and Joel slowly nodded.

"Hey, I'm sorry 'bout tonight, but sometimes the job just gets in the way."

"Was it the job, Joel? Or was it her?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. He paused, unsure what to say as he averted his gaze. She looked down at her feet and took a breath before bringing her eyes back up to him.

"This isn't going to work out, is it?" she asked softly. Joel forced himself to look at her again and after a moment, shook his head. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes and he immediately felt guilty. He took a step forward but she sniffled and stepped further away.

"I don't know why I couldn't see it. The whole fucking town sees it. Even after what happened at the coffee shop this morning... I just hoped..." she trailed off and wiped a stray tear from her eye.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, and he truly meant it. He didn't want to hurt her and he felt like shit that it had to come down to this.

"It's fine. I'll get over it," she said, trying to sound strong before turning to her friend's car and sliding into the front seat. He almost reached out, almost asked her to stay, but he stopped because it would have been cruel and selfish. He was only looking to assuage his own guilt. Instead, he watched the car back up and leave the parking lot, a pit growing in his stomach now that he was alone.

He knew it was the right thing to do, that he had to be honest with Nikki. At least he didn't lead her on, and he hoped he didn't hurt her feelings too badly, but he still felt like an asshole.

Then his thoughts drifted to you. What happened today after the coffee shop? Even though the guy was an asshole, it didn't change the fact you were married and he couldn't have you. What was he supposed to do? Pine away for you his whole life? Would he really ever be content with just being your friend?

And what the hell was he going to do with Patrick? He could charge him with assaulting an officer, that should keep him in jail for a few days until he posts bail, but would he ever see any charges actually stick? Or would he make a few phone calls and have them disappear?

He didn't anticipate this ever being a problem. He's never had to deal with another lawman on the receiving side of his job.

He was entering uncharted territory.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm

[infamous-if]

Hi Amy! Sorry if this is a weird ask, but I remember you said a while back that you leave a lot of asks unanswered because you either don’t find them interesting, or you don’t want to spoil something for the story. So, in your opinion, what kinds of questions are you more likely to answer?

I promise I’m not accusing you of anything, and it’s well within your right to not answer something you don’t want to, it’s just I’ve sent a lot of asks over the months that have went unanswered so I’m wondering if there’s a certain topic or character you’re more willing to talk about.

I'm more likely to answer questions on gameplay or to clarify something that someone is confused about and may be a sentiment shared with others. Mostly if someone has a problem with something and needs clarification haha Or funny one-liner comment because they're less responsibility and don't require much thought or thoughtful answers lol

Sometimes if there's an opinion or assumption made by more than a few people then ill be sure to answer it to clear things up :)

I don't answer scenario/RO asks much because I think it's too time consuming

I confess that compliments and nice words are screenshotted so I can read them when im feeling down lolol but I dont respond to them because I dont want to be seen stroking my own ego on the dash LMAO and not to spam people

It's not that I ignore questions or that I prefer answering questions about certain characters or topics, it's just that I have so many! I'm currently at 7k questions sitting in my inbox and this was after i emptied it out. I feel guilty about ignoring questions but the truth is that I dont even see them half the time ://

many times i start answering a question and then leave it in the drafts for later and forget...like this one, which was in my drafts for a few days before I finally posted it hahahaha sorry

I promise that im not ignoring ur questions and definitely didnt look at it and think "boo boring" I just most likely havent seen it or completely forgot to check it again to answer, I have really bad memory in general so yeah lolol

[fir3ylolol]

we want you! pt.2

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, afab!reader, riding, seated sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise, soft moments, aftercare, sleeping over, quick shower sex, eating out, im incapable of not writing whiny men, i had to write him soft yall he would take such good care of you

a/n: COME GET YALLS DILF!! im so happy w/all the interaction ive been getting, its so reassuring. idk if there'll be a 3rd part, I'm not too sure where to go lol. we shall see!

word count: 2.07 k

other parts

Ao3

“Oh shit,” you sit up, wobbling slightly at the blood rush. “I-I didn’t tell you my name?” You look at him incredulously. “You slept with me even though you didn’t know my name??” Sitting up slowly, he laughs at your surprise, “I mean, it's not like I don’t know you. I know about your family, your studies, your work. You’re not exactly a closed book.” Sighing, you plop back down on the bed, “You’re right, I guess.” As you turn your head to him, you breathe your name out, with Johnny perking up at the sound.

“I like that. It’s good,” he lays back down next to you. He pulls you closer to his chest, whispering, “I think I’ll stick to love though, you always sounded so pretty when I did.” Slightly whining at his words, you stretch your neck up to kiss him gently. He accepts happily, wrapping one hand around the back of your neck to pull you up to deepen the kiss. As you two start making out, his free hand reaches down to grab your bare ass. He slaps it lightly, laughing into your mouth at the way you jump. “Sorry, sorry, I couldn't help myself. Besides, you left one of my questions unanswered.” Tilting your head in a teasing way, you manage to get out, “Keep kissing me and you’ll have your answer.”

He wastes no time in diving back in, using his grip on your ass to pull you on top of him. Resting your legs on either side of him, you tangle your hands in his hair, which is soft under your fingers. He groans lightly at the feeling, of you on top of him, and knowing how close you two are is dangerous. His suspicions are confirmed when you begin to lightly grind against him, quickly growing hard again. He’s a lot more sensitive than before, sensitivity heightened from his very recent orgasm. So when you reach one hand around to grab his cock, it’s his turn to jump, whimpering into your mouth.

“What? I thought you wanted more,” you ask, teasing him with your words. He quickly stops you with another heated kiss, pulling away for air. “I want so much more just…be gentle with the equipment, yeah?” Giggling as you resume the kiss, you rub the fat tip of his cock against your folds, making sure you’re wet enough to take him. And wet you are, hearing it slightly over the sound of Johnny’s moans echoing throughout your head as you two keep kissing. It’s broken again as you finally sink back down onto him, no need to adjust this time. Both of his hands are on your ass now, tight grip on them as he gasps at the feeling of being back inside you. His eyelids flutter as he looks up at you, voice coming out in a barely audible whisper, “S-shit, that’s’good”, words slightly slurring. It’s like he's actually pussy drunk, mouth held agape and pupils blown out.

You sit up, starting to roll your hips in smooth, slow movements. With each bit you move, he whines out more, head thrown back against your comforter. His eyes are still closed as the grip he has on you tightens, and he starts moving your hips faster. Or at least, trying to, since you hold steady and lock your legs against his sides. Now no one is moving, needy whimpers pour from his lips, pleading cries of “C’mon, please baby. This ain’t fair, teasing me like this-”

But you start to move again, finally at the pace he wants. The only difference is that he’s not in control like he would’ve been. No, now he’s looking up at you, eyes rolling back in his head as the hold he had on you is loosened. Leaning forward to press your chest against him, you continue bouncing on him, stoking his cock with your body. He is whining out in the most delicious way in your ear, continuous praises of “Thank you, baby, thank you so much…” His hips occasionally buck up into you, halting the rhythm you have temporarily, which he does complain about. Loudly. Until…

He grabs your hips suddenly, holding you down against him, unable to move. “Wait wait wait…” he breathes out, trying to catch his breath. “Let me just…” You feel him shifting under you, wrapping his arms around you as he sits up. He scoots to the edge of the bed, feet planted on the ground. Looking up at you with sweet puppy-dog eyes, his chin resting on your chest, he smiles as he whispers, “I wanna make you feel good too.” He lifts you off of himself, hands around your waist, and holds you out so you can stand on your own. Once on your feet, he motions for you to spin, lightly touching himself at the sight of you in front of him. Partially confused, you do, back turned to him. He grabs your hips, pulling you back to him and down. As you sit, you slowly sink back down onto him, the new angle causing him to hit the exact right spot. He gently spreads your legs apart, one hand reaching down to rub against your swollen clit, earning a moan from you.

“There we go,” he whispers in your ear, free hand against your waist as he begins fucking up into you, your whole body bouncing against him. Now it’s your turn to be noisy, as the movement against his hand quickly pushes you toward your finish. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, biting and sucking at the skin. Both of you are extremely sensitive, but it seems you’re a little more so, as you lean your head back onto his other shoulder, face scrunched in pleasure.

“S-shit, don’t stop-ah!” You snap forward as you cum, it sneaks up on you in your sensitive state. Johnny bites down harder, a muffled moan vibrating through you. But he doesn’t slow, in fact, he does the opposite, speeding up. Both hands shoot up to wrap around your waist, holding you tight to himself as he continues wildly fucking into you. Finally letting go of the flesh he had trapped in his mouth, he starts spewing obscenities in your ear. “Hah, fuck, you feel so good when you cum baby, holy shit. So fuckin good, I’m losing my mind here. God, where have you been? How could I live this long without pussy this good?”

With only enough energy left to stay with him and let out high-pitched whines, your hands slowly reach up to wrap behind his head. Taking that to mean ‘I need more’, the same hand of his scrambles back down, nearly slipping off you from how wet you are. You let out a strangled moan, vision going black around the edges. Neither of you are very loud anymore, reduced to whimpers and quiet cries, the sound of his body slapping against yours lewdly is all you can hear. You’re brought there even faster this time, almost too much to handle at how sensitive you really are. Quickly, you cum around him one last time, your body falling forward slightly at the total loss of energy as you feel his hips stutter at the feeling. At almost the exact same time, so does he, nasal whines in your ear as he grips your body even tighter. He falls the opposite way, back onto the bed, bringing you with him. You lay there on top of him, head spinning and heavy breaths.

After what feels like forever, he shifts you off him and lays your head on a pillow. Pulling himself next to you, he whispers in your ear, “You need anything? Water? A towel?” Turning your head, you nod slightly and close your eyes. He laughs slightly, but gets up, whispering, “I asked two questions, but that works.” Hearing light shuffling in your kitchen and then the bathroom, he finally returns. He places the towel under you with a proud smile and puts the water on your nightstand. “I found everything love,” he says as he lays back down next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“You did so good dear, so good,” he whispers, kissing your cheek tenderly. After what just went down, you definitely needed this. Your shaky hands reach out and grab the water, taking a gulp. Plopping back down, you turn to him, voice slightly louder than before, “You wanna hang out tomorrow?” He stares at you, almost confused, before snort-laughing at you. “Kind of going in the wrong order, huh?” Huffing, you try to turn over, but he holds you tighter, nuzzling into you. “It sounds amazing. Sounds like a plan. Now, though, you should rest.” Unable to resist how comfortable he is and how tired you are, you quickly succumb to sleep.

Waking up slowly to the sun in your eyes, you notice how sore you are. Everything from the previous night floods in, and you look over to notice that he’s gone. Damn. He seemed so sweet though, and caring, and…and you smell food cooking. Trudging out, heavy feet on the cold floor, you see Johnny, back in just his pajama bottoms, cutting up fruit. He turns at the sound of you entering the room, eyes lighting up as he smiles and walks over to you. “Good morning, sleepy. Feel ok?” You walk directly into him, face against his chest. He laughs, wrapping his arms around you lightly, fingers tracing shapes on your back. “Well, that answers it. I’m glad I got up before you then, I’ve got some food ready. You want some?” Nodding sleepily, he smiles, whispering “Yeah? C’mere.” He leads you to a seat at your table, helping you sit down. He places a plate with fruit and toast in front of you, a glass of water, and a bowl of oatmeal. “I worked with what you had. You should really go grocery shopping.” He sits next to you, face still glowing with happiness. As you eat, he talks about how he slept, that he woke up early to call out of work, and that he can’t wait to spend the day with you.

You finish eating, finally fully awake, and get up to get ready for the day. But Johnny jumps up, lightly grabbing your wrist. “Ah, wait. I don’t want you to get dressed yet…take such a lovely view away from me.” Smiling at him, you turn your wrist so that you’re holding his hand. “Then get ready with me.” You start to lead him towards the bathroom, which he happily follows you to. As you turn the shower on, getting the water nice and hot, he stares at you, a wide smile across your face. “God, I’m so lucky.” You turn to face him, eyes confused, but smile just as wide. “Shut up and get in already.” He quickly follows you in, flinching at the heat, but quickly adjusting. Without wasting a second, he’s pressed you into the corner, lips pressing into yours messily. You lean into him, one hand reaching out to stroke him lightly. But that only lasts so long, as he drops to his knees, lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, and begins lazily eating you out. Obviously still sore, you hiss at the feeling, but it feels so good that you ignore it. His tongue is pressed against you, sucking at your sensitive clit, but only for a little bit. He stands back up, grabbing your hips and lifting you up. You’re pressed into the corner still, as he leans in and guides himself in. Both of you groan at the feeling, bodies still remembering the previous night, but your desires surpass that. 

He’s fucking into you, your legs wrapped around his torso. He uses the stability of the wall and slams his hips into yours. The water is missing both of you as he wildly bucks into you, moaning into open-mouthed kisses. It doesn’t take long at all for him to cum, which he seems kind of embarrassed about, but it doesn’t matter to you. Kissing him lightly as he set you down, you smile up at him and hold his hand tightly. Smiling back, he squeezes your hand back. “Let’s not waste any more water, yeah?

[ljubimaya]

– A LITTLE DEATH

SYNOPSIS: Wounded after a gang fight, Baji finds comfort in you in more than one way.

C/W: aged up characters (Baji and reader are 20+ years old), mentions of death (no one dies, though), fem! reader, friends to lovers, confessions, mentions of wounds and bruises and the treatment of such, reader and Baji teasing each other, a little angst with tons of comfort, fingering, p in v, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (keep it wrapped), soft sex, slow burn bc I yapped too much, pet names (pretty girl baby), lmk if I missed smth ♡

A/N: This took me seven months and three rewrites :,)) me writing soft sex with Kei is 100% self-indulgent and lowkey selfshipcoded btw

W/C: 9k+ words (I told you I yapped too hard, I'm sorry, it will happen again)

1 A.M. and you didn’t sleep. You weren't even tired, not after receiving the text from your best friend. 

“I’ll be at yours in a while” was all Baji sent you. You received his message when you were just getting ready for bed, after you took a nice hot shower and put on your freshly washed pajamas. All hopes of a peaceful, quiet night shattered the moment you opened the chat and read his text. 

That was at 10 P.M. the previous day. You’ve been sitting on your couch for three hours now and couldn’t get a grip on your idiotic best friend. Calls wouldn’t go through, messages would remain unanswered, and you didn’t even have the numbers of his other, equally idiotic friends so they could forward your message to Baji. Not that you would actually even reach out to them, despite being your friend’s friends, you were still deeply terrified of most of them. 

Worry took over at 11 P.M. when he didn’t show up like he promised he would and panicked, when you couldn’t even reach him by midnight, and once 1 A.M. rolled around, you found yourself trying to rationalize him not showing up. Maybe he’s asleep in his bed? Maybe he’s still out with his friends? Maybe he’s lying dead in a ditch?

Dread truly was the best alternative to caffeine, you couldn’t even think of going back to bed until you knew he was alive and breathing. 

So you sat on your couch, wrapped in your fuzzy blanket and sipping on your herbal tea to calm your nerves. The tea itself didn’t seem to help calm your anxiety at all, but you found that if you didn’t hold the warm cup, you'd reach out to grab your phone and start bombarding him with calls and texts. The little faith you had in him told you you would have enough time to give him an earful once he shows up. If he shows up…

A light knock brought you back to reality. You didn’t expect anyone except for Baji, so you felt safe to open the door. You didn’t know what it was, a logical conclusion that it could only be him, the hope you held in your heart that it was him, or an inner knowing. Whichever it may have been, you were right. 

Upon opening your front door, you were greeted with none other than the first division captain himself. Although alive and breathing, Baji looked exhausted. Cuts littered his handsome face, bloody knuckles clutched to his stomach, and his tired eyes told you everything you needed to know. He needed to get patched up. 

“Not asleep?” he asked in his deep raspy voice. His deep baritone usually makes you feel butterflies in your stomach, but hearing the tiredness out of his voice, you couldn’t bring yourself to swoon over him. At least not yet. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you answered “No. Couldn’t fall asleep when you texted me you’d come over. Although, I didn’t think I’d have to wait three hours” You laughed dryly. 

Baji frowned. He knew he arrived way later than he had promised you, and to his credit he would have arrived earlier if it were up to him. 

Usually, he would have been rough to anyone who gives him even the slightest bit of sass. He’d beat them back to their place and make sure they would choose their tone more carefully around him, but you weren’t just anyone to him. You know his temper, you have been victim to it on numerous occasions now, but he never dared to treat you like one of his underlings. Baji was never rough to you, tried avoiding becoming loud or calling you names except for the occasional “stupid”, “nerd”, or “brat”, which he knew wouldn’t offend you. 

“I know I said I’d arrive earlier, but you know how things are with the gang. One moment we’re having a normal meeting, the next we’re fighting some weak ass rival gang”

“You guys won?” you asked as you let the wild man enter your home. He grinned proudly as he settled down on your couch, still careful not to hurt himself further. 

“You know it. No gang can stand a chance against us” 

You rolled your eyes at him, chuckling as he boasted about his victory against the rival gang. 

“They had more members than Toman does” Baji grumbled as he watched you bring out the first aid kit “The nerve of them to attack us. No name gang, heard about them only once during another conflict with another rival gang”

“The one from last month?” You asked, taking out the bandages and alcohol wipes. This wasn’t the first time Baji had asked you to patch him up after a gang fight, it became a recurring thing when you befriended the hot headed gangster. You would always look forward to seeing him after a gang fight, it was almost therapeutic to take care of his wounds while he rambled about anything and everything. Given your busy schedules, both of you living completely different lives, and thus having a hard time making plans to meet up, him coming over after a gang fight felt more like catching up with him rather than a chore to you. 

“Yeah, those fucking bastards” Baji confirmed while he undid the buttons of his Toman uniform. Carefully, he took off the piece of clothing and put it right next to your first aid kit on the coffee table. You glared at him as he did that. 

“You did not just out your dirty shirt on my clean coffee table”

“Oh jeez, stop it. You sound like my mom” He teased, his hand soon grasping the article of clothing. “May I throw it on the floor, mom?” Baji taunted you as soon as he removed his shirt from your coffee table. Chuckling at his teasing, you retorted “Careful, or else I’ll ground you for a week. You can kiss your little gangster friends goodbye”

The ravenette groaned at your quick witted response “Thank God I’m a grown man. Thank God you’re not my mom” You took the shirt from his grasp, your fingers brushing against his rough ones for a short moment. 

“I can wash it for you. It looks really dirty, and I don’t want you to wear a dirty shirt when I’m done cleaning your wounds” 

Baji’s face softens when you suggest washing his shirt for him “You really don’t have to. I don’t mean to trouble you any more than I have to-”

“Nonsense” You cut him off as you stood up and started to walk towards your bathroom “I’ll throw it into the washing machine while I’ll take a look at your wounds. It’s not like I’m going to wash it with my hands”

Baji stared at you as you began to retreat from him “You want me to leave shirtless?”

“No. You can sleep over tonight” You hummed. While bold, you knew that you wouldn’t let him leave in the dead of the night, especially with his injuries. The prospect of Baji staying for the night makes your blood rush towards your cheeks. Trying to conceal your sudden shyness, you turned around from him, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell just how flustered you were. 

No matter how late Baji would visit, he wouldn’t stay over too long. This would be a first if he agreed to sleep over. You were almost certain he would disagree with you, tell you not to worry too much about him, that he didn’t need to sleep over, but you were willing to fight him over it. 

Baji scoffed “You really don’t have to. I don’t want to inconvenience you more than I already am. You’ve stayed awake for so long to take care of my bruises, you really don’t have to wash my clothes now too, or let me stay over. Besides” He stopped for a moment, studying the way you’ve turned away from him “You got work. I’m not a child you have to take care off”

“I understand that you’re an adult and can do whatever you please” You mustered up all the courage to turn around and face him “Let me care for you. I don’t want you to get infections, and I sure as hell don’t want you to walk home alone in your state. I know you can handle getting punched or kicked or thrown, but”  I can’t handle it. You halted. Heart beating against your ribcage furiously, you felt the blood rush to your face. If I don’t calm down now, I’ll end up crying.

So you took a deep breath, trying to get a hold on your bubbling emotions “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. You’re staying, and that’s final” Without letting him react, you walked off to your bathroom. 

You quickly returned with a big bowl filled with water once you’ve thrown his article of clothing into the washing machine. The walk back into the living room was filled with dread. Knowing how hot headed he can be, he should be pissed. He should be angry at you, he should tell you to back off and let him do whatever he wants. You were already mentally preparing yourself to argue and reason with him, but upon your return, you didn’t see a glaring, angry man. 

Baji sat silently on the couch, waiting for you to come back. No traces of anger graced his face, no clenching fists, he didn’t even talk when you approached him

You sat down next to him. Although the silence was awkward, it helped you focus on tending to his wounds. His naked torso was littered with small bruises. You were able to make out small cuts, but they were predominantly on his hands. No open wounds except his bloodied knuckles. Mentally taking notes on his physical condition, you made a treatment plan. Deciding his knuckles needed immediate attention, you carefully took his hand into yours. Baji let you take his hand without any sort of resistance, instead, he watched you clean the surrounding area of the wounds on his fingers and knuckles before carefully dabbing the alcohol infused cotton. Before, you rinsed his open wounds with cool water to get out any rubble that could be inside. A low hiss escaped Baji’s lips once you lightly pressed the in alcohol soaked cotton. Usually, he’d tell you to be more careful, but this time he doesn’t say a word. 

“I know it hurts” you muttered in an apologetic tone as you carefully dab the cotton on the wound, trying to get him to talk to you “I’ll try to be more careful”

Moments passed and he still didn’t make attempts to reply back. You continued cleaning his and dressing his knuckles and hands; and while it felt like an eternity without hearing Baji’s deep voice rambling about the gang or his personal life, you were finished tending to his hands much faster than it usually took you. 

One look at the bruises on his torso, and you knew they needed to be cooled, especially the big and dark bruise on his stomach. Suddenly, you remembered the way Baji was clutching his stomach. 

“What happened here?” You asked him, your fingers lightly grazing his rock hard abs absentmindedly. Baji groaned and gritted his teeth as you touched the bruise. Quickly realizing that he was in pain, you retreated your fingers from the hurting area. Mentally cursing at yourself for being so careless, you opened your mouth to utter an apology, but Baji was quicker. 

“Got hit by a metal pipe” Baji told you, a scowl adorning his face as he sat up straighter “That bastard swung at me out of nowhere. Didn’t even see him coming, was too busy punching some other fuckers”

“I’m so sorry”

Baji snorted at your apology as he finally looked at you, his eyes locking with yours for the first time since you demanded he stayed over. “‘s nothing you have to apologize for. You weren’t there, hell, I wouldn’t want you to be at a gang fight” He grinned teasingly at you, the awkward silence from before having completely vanished “The streets aren’t for you”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him and laugh “What? Are you calling me soft or something?”

“Maybe. Won’t call you tough either” He chuckled as he watched you reach over to grab the cotton again. 

“Lift up your head. I still need to disinfect the small scratches on your face, Mister Tough” You hummed as you took his face into your hands, taking a better look at the small cuts that littered his face. However, your attention slipped into other directions as you kept on looking at him. Suddenly, you weren’t looking at his small wounds, but rather, you were looking at his plump lips. Then his pointy nose, his bushy eyebrows, and soon, your gaze fell upon his eyes. 

Earthy brown irises looked back into yours, and you swore you saw them glint in the low light of your living room. You felt weak, your heart fluttering as you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. He has drawn you in with one single look of his eyes, and you swore you would drown in them like they were quicksand. Or maybe you would burn in the molten bronze of his eyes? Whatever it may be, all power left your body as soon as your eyes locked with his. You had no energy to look away; you had no energy and you certainly didn’t have the desire to. 

“That's not cleaning my wounds” a wolfish grin appeared on his lips, obviously amused by the sight of you flinching and tensing up when he caught you staring at him for far too long. 

Blood rushed to your face, you felt so embarrassed and humiliated at his teasing smirks. Oh that bastard…

“Well, I can't clean them when I haven't assessed them properly” you shot back, proud of your quick-witted response. Still, you couldn’t help but look away, the fluttering feeling inside your stomach growing more intense the longer his gaze remained on your form. Your face is turned away from him, your eyes averted to the floor when you felt his half bandaged hands reach towards your face, cupping it in a warm embrace. 

The teasing smirk having disappeared, Baji’s face has softened. His thumb lightly grazed your cheek when he turned you to face him, and just like that you locked eyes with him again. 

“Hey” he whispered in a tender tone, still stroking your cheek with his thumb “You ok?”

You leaned into his touch instinctively, eyes closing as you welcomed his warmth, basking in the comfort it provides. 

“I’m not the one that got hurt” you muttered “I am however incredibly…..” you took a deep breath as your voice falters. You felt the urge to double down on your words and tell him that everything was fine and that you were just overreacting and tired, but you couldn’t bear holding your tongue anymore. 

“I am incredibly worried about you”

Just like that, Pandora’s Box opened. The unsettling feeling you had right before he arrived returned and despite his warm hands holding your face, his face appeared to you so much paler than he usually was. 

Baji raised his eyebrow at your concerns, his thumb still caressing your cheek while he remained silent. You took his silence as a go ahead to explain your worry for him. 

“I know you are a grown man, and that you can do whatever you want. I can’t force you to do anything, and you know that you would never ask you to change anything about yourself” The words tumbled out of your mouth. Your heart pounded against your ribcage furiously, cold sweat coated your body and you felt your vision blurred. Yet, no tears rolled down your cheeks, you held them back as much as you could. There was no way you would break down in front of him like that. So you mustered up all the strength you had to calm your breathing before you continued.

“But I worry. I worry that there will be a day in which I’ll have to wake up to find out you’re lying in the hospital. I worry that one day I’ll wake up to find out you’re missing. And worst of all, I fear the day that you won’t return to me after a fight” 

You didn’t even finish talking and tears were already rolling down your face. Despite initially not wanting to cry in front of him, you felt as if a burden was being lifted from you. Baji listened silently to your distraught ramble. His hands never left your face, holding it so delicately as if you would crumble into pieces if he let go. 

“Promise me, Keisuke. Promise me that I won’t have to wake up in cold sweat from nightmares about losing you. Promise me I won’t have to stay awake all night long and wonder about your safety. Promise me you’ll always find your way back to me”

A shaky breath left your lips; you stared deeply into his eyes as you pleaded with him. You couldn’t take your gaze away from him, your eyes bored deeply into his, silently seeking for an answer to your emotionally charged demands. 

Finally, Baji broke his silence. 

“You know I can’t promise you any of that” He muttered. Baji firmly held your eye contact while his hands slowly retreated from your face “I can’t make such promises to you when I know just how unpredictable gang fights are” 

This wasn’t what you were expecting, nor the answer you wanted to hear from him. Your heart squeezed at his honest answer and his sudden retreat. Crushed, you too made an effort to distance yourself from him, but when you were about to stand up and excuse yourself, you felt his hands on yours. The ravenette guided your hands towards his face, making you hold his face. 

“I didn't know you were so worried about me. I never meant to inconvenience you in any way-”

“That's not what I'm complaining about!” You snapped back at him, not believing what you were hearing from him. 

“You're not inconveniencing me in any way. I look forward to seeing you. I wanna hear you ramble about your tights, your gang members, your colleagues - anything, really. I just hate seeing you hurt” 

Baji looked deeply into your eyes, and for a second you thought you would get swept up by his beautiful brown irises until you heard his usually gruff voice speaking to you in an unusually soft tone. A tone only reserved for you.

“Hey, look at me. I know it might sound harsh, but you gotta understand that I’m not making any promises to you that I know I won’t be able to keep. I wish I was able to say it with my full chest and promise that nothing will happen to me, but that’s not how life works” 

His reasoning seemed plausible, and yet, your heart sank as Baji tried to reason with you. Something inside you yearned for more, you needed to hear something from him, or else you knew you would never be able to sleep peacefully at night. 

“Keisuke” you whispered tenderly as you held his face gently, his hands still pressing against the back of your hands, keeping them in place. It was a firm grip, a grip that told you that he wanted to be held, and yet nothing about his touch seemed rough and forceful.

“I understand what you’re trying to tell me. I understand that some things are out of your reach, but this does nothing to calm my racing thoughts. I won’t be able to think of anything else but your safety when I know you’re out there. I know it sounds selfish of me to demand it, but for the sake of my own sanity, I need some reassurance of you” 

Baji's eyes never left your while you spoke. His eyebrow furrowed as his mind worked out a reasonable enough deal for you, a promise that would give you a peace of mind and that he would be able to fulfill. Eventually, his grip on your hands loosened. While no longer pressed against his own face, he held your hands tenderly. 

“I get that, I really do. While I can’t promise you that I will stay safe all the time, I can promise you that I will be more careful. I can promise you to be more mindful of my surroundings and I can promise you that I won’t run head first into fights” 

This seemed to be all the reassurance that you needed from him. A soft smile graced your face as you heard his proposal as relief washed over you. It may have not been what you wanted to hear, but it surely was better than no promise from him at all. 

“I’ll take it” a breathless whisper escaped through your lips. Baji broke his gaze from yours, only for his eyes to land on your hands holding his. You followed suit and looked at your intertwined fingers. You haven’t even realized that your fingers have laced with his. Was it when he made his promise to you to be more careful, or did you intertwine your fingers with his absentmindedly when you accepted the promise? Perhaps, it was him who took initiative and laced his fingers with yours?

Blood rushed to your cheeks when Baji gave your interlocked hand a gentle squeeze. 

“You should be careful” You muttered “Don’t move your fingers too much, they’re still wounded”

“I know, but I couldn’t resist” Baji grinned as you shyly averted your gaze from him, trying to pay no mind to his teasing.

“But I will be much more careful from now on. Gotta at least try and stay alive if someone cares about me that much” He mused, his deep honeyed voice making you feel butterflies in your stomach. Usually, you would try and hide the way he made you feel. You’d grin back at him and tease him back. On a different day, you would have told him off, but after the rollercoaster of emotions you have gone through, you didn’t want to bite back at him. 

“Yeah, you better” huffing, you carefully disentangled your fingers from his “I do care for you. Immensely, actually” You added in a quiet, soft tone before reaching to grab the antiseptic ointment. 

“Careful, this might burn a bit”

Baji’s smirk has softened. Intently, he watched your face as you worked to disinfect his wounds. A low hum escaped his lips as your skillful fingers ghosted over his face applying the antiseptic ointment. While he felt a slight burning sensation, Baji enjoyed the tender touches. 

“I know you care. You care so much you even ordered me to stay over and washed my shirt” 

Heat rose to your cheeks upon hearing Baji’s teasing remark. You were hoping he wouldn’t bring it back up, but one glance to Baji’s eyes, free of resentment and bitterness, told you that he wasn’t trying to make you feel uncomfortable. Yet, you remained silent, not knowing what to reply back, or rather, too embarrassed to say anything back to the ravenette. 

“I know I’m an ass sometimes. I’m impulsive, loud; I have a sharp tongue and I like weaponizing it, but I can’t even begin to explain how grateful I am that you care for someone like me” 

“Yeah” You chuckled while carefully cleaning a wound on his cheek, your heart skipping a beat when you caught the tender look in his eyes “You might be an ass, but you are my favorite ass”

Baji hummed at your reply “Yeah? That makes me feel so special”

Sighing, you put the cotton away “You know” you started, your voice carrying a nervous tone as you tried to articulate your thoughts “I’m sorry for trying to boss you around. Of course you don’t have to stay over. I could look inside my closet if I have a baggy shirt I could lend to you to walk home in-”

“No, I’m staying”

The firmness of Baji’s voice caught you off guard. Skeptical, you raised an eyebrow at your injured friend “You really don’t have to. I don’t wanna force you to stay here”

“Yeah I know, but I want to stay. I want to stay over, because I know you want me to stay. I don’t wanna worry you much more than I already have”  

You let out a groan as you heard Baji out, frustrated at the guilty face he made “Hey, I don’t want you to think that you are a burden to me in any shape or form. I have no right to make you stay if you don’t want to, you are not obligated to stay over just because I threw a temper tantrum earlier”

“I get that” Baji watched as you sat down next to him after putting all the utensils back into the first aid kit “But I understand where you’re coming from. I know I would be furious at you if you were hurt and refused help from me. I know I would chain you to bed so you wouldn’t wander off and get hurt again” 

“Baji-”

“It’s Keisuke” He rolled his eyes at your slip up, unable to hide his frustrations with you any longer “Listen, I do owe it to you to stay. If staying over is what will bring you peace of mind, I’ll stay. I care that you care for me so much”

And that was all the reassurance you needed from him. Baji went out of his way to make sure you wouldn’t worry too much about him; the way that he understood your anxiety regarding his health and wellbeing and tried to ease your mind made you feel butterflies in your stomach. 

“Thank you” You muttered while you leaned your head against his shoulder.

“No, thank you. Thank you for always being there for me” Baji whispered back, his hand soon finding its way to your hair. A satisfied hum escaped your lips when you felt him play with your hair.

“You don’t have to thank me. Caring for you comes naturally to me. It’s like a fish swimming, or a bird flying. I love caring for you” I love you.

“And I love that you care for me so much. Makes me feel really special” Baji said when his fingers played with your hair, careful not to tug too hard on your strands of hair.

“You already said that” You chuckled at him “You already said that me caring for you makes you feel special. Although” You moved your head to look at him, a teasing giggle leaving your lips “I don’t quite understand what I do to make you feel  so ‘special’ though”

Baji’s lips quirk into a grin as he turns his head as well and looks you deep in your eyes. And just like that, you were a prisoner of his earthy brown eyes. It’s as if the ground moved beneath your feet and swallowed you whole. The low light in your living room gave him an ethereal glow, and to you, he looked like the most perfect person.

“Hmm, it’s many things you do actually. You deal with my bullshit, like cleaning my wounds way past midnight. You laugh at my corny jokes, you cook from me from time to time” He chuckles “Although, your cooking skills are kinda lacking”

You scoffed at his teasing “I know I’m never going to be a Michelin star cook, but you always eat everything I make for you”

“I know. I would eat anything your golden hands would make” Baji hummed, leaning in closer to you. 

“You know, I love it when you look at me like this” He mumbles as his breath fanning over your lips. Your stomach was in knots, the proximity between you and him made you feel so damn dizzy. A tiny voice inside your head begged you to lean closer to him, to finally taste his lips like you’ve always wanted to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to bridge the distance. The rational - and perhaps shy - side won pretty quickly, so instead of making any moves on him, you hoped he would kiss you.

“How do I look at you?”, you asked in a whisper, daring him to finally say what you have waited for for so long: A hint on how he truly saw you. 

Baji’s hand reached to hold your face, no longer playing with your hair “Like I mean the world to you” He purred, his voice smooth like satin “You look at me as if I hung the stars and the moon. As if there is no one but me in the room”

“But there is no one besides you” You exclaimed, unable to stop yourself. Like a dam with cracks, you were bound to spill your feelings to him, and no force would hold back the flood. 

“And you do mean the world to me. To me, you might as well have hung the stars and the moon” you breathed shakily. You haven’t said it directly, yet you already felt like you have spilled your guts out to him “You are so incredibly important to me”

“I know, and I hope you know that I care for you just as much” Baji leans in closer, his nose touching yours “In fact, I think I might care about you than you do” He muses, his eyes never leaving yours. 

You felt as if you were on fire. It might have been the need to know if your best friend returned your feelings or not, it might have been the adrenaline you felt from feeling so close to him, perhaps you wanted to tease him back or it might have been a combination of all of the above, but you promptly challenged him “So you must love me then”

Baji’s other hand, the one that wasn’t already touching your cheek, gently cupped your face and leaned in closer to you, his lips ghosting over yours “I do” Baji mumbles, drunk of your smell and hungry to taste your lips “I love you” he breathes out before gently capturing your lips with his. 

Time seemed to slow down when his lips collided with yours. You were hoping for a hint, a clue on how he feels for you, so getting a confession and a kiss from the man you have loved for the longest time made you feel emotional. 

You wasted no time and returned the kiss eagerly, lips molding over his softly. Closing your eyes and moving your arms to carefully wrap themselves around his neck, Baji responded by turning his body towards you. His hands soon found their way towards your waist, his fingers softly gripping onto you. He didn’t want to let you go, he didn’t want to pull away or or even shift into a more comfortable position; not when he was busy summarizing every little detail of your lips. From the softness, to the taste, to the shiver he felt running down his spine when you moved your lips against his, he wanted everything engraved in his brain for the rest of his life. 

Breathlessly, you pulled away from Baji. You were mentally cursing out your body’s need for air when your soul craved to melt with his. A deep hum escaped his lips when he leaned his forehead against yours.

“I take it you like me back” Baji mumbled as he looked you deeply in your eyes. Despite it sounding like he was stating a fact, you couldn’t unhear the slightly questioning understone. You chuckled and brought your hand to his cheek, gently cupping it while your other hand remained on his neck.

“I don’t just like you” You muttered as you stole a quick peck from his lips “I love you too”

Baji let out a satisfied groan upon feeling your lips on his again “Then kiss me properly” He didn’t even waste a second and crashed his lips with yours, unable to wait for a reply back from you. While the first kiss was sweet and slow, this kiss felt raw and urgent. You felt so shy feeling his passion, but who were you to turn down a steamy kiss from Baji Keisuke?

So without thinking too much, you returned his kiss with fervor. Addicted to your lips, Baji would soon pull on your hips, his strong grip making you feel butterflies in your stomach. 

“Come sit on my lap, pretty girl” Baji whispered against your lips “Come on, sit on my lap” He demanded in a deep, sultry voice when he felt your hesitancy. Heat crept up your face and you looked away from his handsome face. His cheeks were tinted in a lovely red, the thin sheen of sweat made him look like he was sparkling in the dim light of your living room. 

“Hey” Baji tenderly held your chin and turned your face to look at him. You could still see the fire of passion in his half lidded eyes, but there was also restraint “Am I going too fast for you?” He asked before he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

“No, it’s not that. I just feel a little….shy” You whispered the last part. If Baji didn’t have such a firm grip on your chin, you would have tried to look away and hide your flustered face. 

“Shy?” Baji mused, a smirk creeping up on his lips “What you gotta be shy for? We confessed to each other, didn’t we?” 

“I know, but it’s just so sudden. My brain has barely registered that you like me”

“Nuh-huh, I didn’t say that I like you. I said I love you” Baji corrected, chuckling “But don’t worry, I can go slower if you’d like that. I just want you to feel comfortable around me”

That seemed to do the trick for you; despite still feeling flustered, a rush of excitement spread over your body and overpowered your initial shyness. Who would have thought that Baji ensuring you that your comfort coming first would turn you on so damn much?

Feeling bold, you eyed his toned torso. You didn’t know if it was weird or not, but you liked looking at the bruises on his body; seeing his naked upper body littered in cuts and bruises just made you feel so hot. 

“You could never make me feel uncomfortable” you whispered when you shifted closer to him, lips grazing over the now purple spot on his chest. 

Baji groaned when he felt you kiss his wound, feeling both pain and pleasure from your tender kisses. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He growled as he felt your lips travel lower and lower, kissing each and every bruise and cut.

“I’m kissing them better” You replied back, humming as the taste of his sweat hit your tongue. You looked up from him, still kissing your way over to the very last wound, the one right on his pelvis. 

A guttural growl rumbles from his chest as he took in the view in front of him: The woman he loved so much - desired for the longest time - kissing along his torso. Baji’s pants felt so tight when he saw the longing, lust filled gaze you looked at him from beneath him. Baji just wanted to lay you on the couch, rip your clothes off your body and make you his, but he knew that wasn’t the way he wanted to fuck you for the first time. He wanted to be soft and loving, worship every inch of your body and show you just how much you meant to him. 

So he placed his hand on your head, stopping from going any lower “Lay down pretty. Let me make you feel real good” 

You felt so weak to your knees when you heard his deep and husky voice, dripping with lust and hunger. The way he looked at you, eyes half lidded and full of love, made you feel so incredibly hot and bothered. Trembling, you obeyed and got up from your sitting position and laid down on the couch, impatiently awaiting his next move. 

He laid on top of you, caging you between his strong arms. You were surrounded by him - his arms holding you in place, his toned body laying on top of you, his strong musk, his bulge pressed against your thigh…You felt so delirious when you breathed in his scent, smelling a mix of cologne, shampoo and sweat. 

“Pretty” Baji breathed out when he leaned in closer to you. His breath fanned over your face as his lips kept an agonizing distance. So close, but not nearly close enough to still the intense fire of desire that burned within you. Garnering all the confidence that you could gather, you cupped his face and kissed him - a kiss he was all too eager to return. And when his tongue mingled its way inside your mouth, you put up no fight to deny him entrance; instead parting your lips so his wet muscle could explore your mouth. 

You were too engrossed with the kiss, busy remembering the taste of his lips to notice him repositioning himself. Before, his arms caged your frame, making it impossible for you to get out of what’s to come. Now, Baji shifted so he was being supported by just one arm, while his now free hand allowed him to explore other parts. 

Your eyes shot wide open when you felt his fingers lightly graze your naked thigh. Baji’s light, almost shy touches send waves of anticipation to your pussy. Even though you wanted him to trail his calloused fingers upwards along your thigh to your throbbing clit, even though you wanted to feel him pushing his digits inside your pussy, you knew that he wouldn’t do any of that unless you give him the go ahead. 

Baji felt your growing hesitancy and pulled away from the kiss. Open mouthed, the raven haired man pushed himself away from your lips, only a string of saliva connecting your lips to his before it broke. Labored breaths left his lips as he watched you lay underneath him, his hand still on your thigh.

“What’s wrong?” His voice smooth and deep like fine wine, he asked. His eyes never left your face, trying to figure out your thoughts and his next actions. You chew on your lips as you were confronted with two possibilities: slow down or tell him exactly what you want from him. Somehow, the decision didn’t seem so hard to make. 

So you held his gaze and smiled as your hands took hold of his belt.

“Nothing” You whispered, unbuckling his belt as you felt his fingers still caressing your thigh “You don’t have to worry about me. I want this, I want you.”

“Yeah?” The seriousness in his face melts into a light grin. Baji*s lips met your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin as his fingers inch closer to your pajama shorts “How badly do you want me?”

You let out a content hum “I’d say I want you almost as badly as you want me”

The man let out a snort as he heard your bold claim. Still, he didn’t stop his gentle assault on your neck “Ah, I doubt it.” Baji murmured, his fingers finally having hooked under the waistband of the pajama shorts before he tugged them down “Baby, that’s a hell of an assumption you’re making. I don’t want you” Baji let out a ragged breath as he finally pulled your shorts down “I need you”

Baji’s skilled fingers immediately traced your outer lips in a slow, teasing way before he dipped one finger inside your pussy.

“Look at you, you’re soaked” Baji grinned as he pushed his finger deeper inside, placing tender kisses on your cheek “Tell me when it gets too much, yeah?” 

Softly pumping his finger in and out, Baji was careful to be slow and gentle with you. The man was in no rush, so he took his time riling you up. A fortunate graze against your velvety walls left you moaning and shuddering, letting Baji know he’s found the spot he was looking for. 

“Feels good, baby?” your lover asked lowly, eyes trained on your face to detect any signs of discomfort. However, to his delight, he didn’t see any at all: instead his eyes were graced with you, sweaty, panting and eyes half lidded, and fuck does he feel get himself harder by just looking at your lust drunken state.

“Hng, never felt this good” you managed to whimper out. A satisfied chuckle left Baji’s lips.

“Yeah? Gonna make you feel so so good” The usually rough man leaned closer and began to gently kiss and bite the shell of your ear “I’m gonna have to add another finger. Gotta stretch you out nicely for me. You ok with that, right?”

Your pussy fluttered at the thought of getting stretched out by him. So you nodded your head and begged him to add more fingers “Yes, please. Wanna feel more of you” you whimpered as you felt his second finger, his middle finger, ease inside your fluttering hole. Once fully inside, Baji didn’t waste time,switching between curling and pumping his digits. 

Your pussy swallowed his fingers. If it was with anyone else, you’d feel sheer embarrassment from the squelching sounds and your arousal practically coating his whole hand, his leg and the blanket under you, but you didn’t. Not with your beloved Baji, the only man that could make you forget shame and focus on feeling good.

His free hand sneaked under your pajama shirt, playing with your erect nipple while his fingers worked you towards your orgasm. Your moans were music to his ears, but the way you eagerly sucked his digits in made him wanna hear the sounds you’d make when you’re cumming. While he was still knuckle deep inside, Baji’s thumb began drawing tight circles on your throbbing clit. 

Your moans grew more frantic, the pleasure overwhelming all of your senses. Buckling your hips into his hand, you chased after your orgasm. And before you knew it, the coil inside your tummy bursted, sending waves of pleasure all across your body. A strangled moan left your lips as your orgasm washed over you. 

After he’s helped you come down from your high, Baji pulled his fingers out of your still twitching hole with a satisfied grin on his lips. 

“Felt good?”

“Felt amazing” You hummed, watching him as he licked his fingers clean, groaning at the taste “Do I taste that good?” 

“Mhhh, why don’t you see for yourself?” 

With that, Baji crashed his lips against yours. You didn’t resist when you felt his tongue on your bottom lip, allowing him entrance. His tongue explored every corner of your mouth, allowing you to taste your own juices. Baji’s hand moved away from your nipple, instead grabbing onto the hem of your shirt. The ravenette pulled away from the kiss. Your head was spinning from the lack of air but you missed his lips on yours already. 

You understood what he wanted and pulled your pajama shirt over your head and threw it away, not caring where it landed as long as he was still on top of you. Baji’s eyes drank in the sight of you, bare and needy for him. Calloused hands gently kneaded your moundsas he placed a hot kiss on your lips.

“‘s that all for me?”Baji groaned against your lips “Gosh, you’re so damn pretty, you know that?”

“I wouldn’t mind if you’d tell me so more often” chuckling, you returned the yearning kiss, moaning softly from his touch.

“Yeah? I’m gonna tell you every day” Baji’s kissed your neck downwards “gonna remind you every day how perfect you are for me” 

His lips soon found your bare breasts, sucking and biting on your soft flesh. Baji carefully cupped your tits in his big hands before his mouth latched onto one of your nipples. Desire pooled between your thighs again. You wanted him, and you wanted him now. 

A small giggle left your lips. Your fingers combed his silky black hair away from his face, tucking his locks against his ears “I’m perfect for you? And they say love is dead”

You felt him gently bite your sensitive bud, grazing the hardened bud with his sharp canines before he let go. “In every way possible, yes. You are perfect for me” Baji mumbled against your chest. 

Your heart fluttered at his declaration. Somehow, this rough, impulsive man managed to make you putty in his hands. And you knew you were in it too deep because you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your hands sneaked away from his hair, traveling between your hot bodies and stopping at his pants. His bulge was still firmly pressed against your thigh and you wanted to free his dick from its confines. 

“Can I?” You asked sweetly, fingers gripping his belt, waiting for Baji to give the green light. Of course he would allow you. 

Baji lifted his head from your chest, a cheeky smirk on his lips as he heard your request “I don’t know” He mused “Can you?” and before you could pout or tell him off, he quickly added “Go ahead. Been waiting too long to have you already”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Swiftly, you undid his belt and tugged his pants and underwear lower. Baji helped you in getting rid of his remaining clothes. The ravenette readjusted his position and lifted himself up before discarding pants and shorts to a random corner of your living room. 

Finally, no barriers, no layers between you and him. You wanted to feel him, badly.  Not being able to think properly, your hand wandered lower, tracing along his abs to his pelvis before you firmly took hold of his dick. Baji shuddered at your touch. Your fingertips barely touched as you wrapped your hand around his girthy cock. The stretch is gonna be deliciously painful. Your mouth watered at the thought of it. 

Deep moans bubbled out of the ravenette’s lips, his eyes pressed shut at the feeling of your hand pumping him. Your hand stroked him with vigor, touching his cock from base to his leaking tip. God, you wished you could lick up all of his precum, but you knew there would be another time for sucking him off. Right now, playing with his pretty red tip and smearing his pre all over his tip would have to do.

However, he didn’t let you stroke him for too long “Baby, I’m not gonna last long if you keep on stroking me like that” Baji groaned “Wanna fuck you nice and slow” The raven haired man nestled his face into your neck, kissing the bite marks he gave you earlier.

“That is, if you let me” he moaned lightly as your hand stopped stroking him, retreating as he had requested “You sure you wanna do this?” your lover inquired. Despite his genuine concern, you saw the spark of desire in his brown, half lidded eyes, ready to be unleashed. You firmly nodded your head, unwilling to deny him or yourself of the intimacy the two of you craved for so long. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you, here and right now” 

That was all he needed. Baji wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock and slowly guided the tip inside your clenching hole. Moans and whimpers bounced off the walls of your living room as Baji slowly pushed his throbbing cock inside you. The stretch was overwhelming your senses; tears formed on your lower lash both from pain and pleasure. 

Your lover stopped pushing himself inside you, instead his hand wiped away the single tear that escaped your eyes. 

“You ok?” the raven haired man asked in a soft and worried tone. Your vision was blurry from the tears, but you could perfectly envision his furrowed brows and the concerned look in his eyes. Wiping away the tears, your predictions proved to be right. You knew him well, after all. 

“‘m ok, it’s just a lot” Baji caressed your warm cheek and you leaned into it instinctively “You can move now. I don’t want you to stop until you’re fully inside”

The tension left his face as soon as you gave him the go ahead. Baji’s hand never left your face while he pushed every inch inside your pussy, caressing it lightly and soothing you. How sweet of him. 

Once he bottomed out, Baji waited until you’ve adjusted to his size. He didn’t have a reputation of being patient, and although your walls clung to his dick so deliciously it drove him wild, Baji didn’t dare move until he knew it was fine for him to move. Oh the things he does for love.

You on the other hand weren’t feeling patient. You tried moving your hips against his but failed miserably when you didn’t feel the friction you were hoping for. Amused by your desperation, Baji watched your attempts at humping his cock with a wolfish grin. 

“And here I thought I was being a gentleman for being patient” He laughed heartily “That’s not gonna get you off baby. Lay back and let me make you feel real good, alright?” 

You rolled your eyes and chuckled, relaxing underneath him and letting him take control “You know, that does sound nice” your sentence got cut short by the sudden snap of his hips. Baji set a slow, comfortable pace. Not too fast to overwhelm you too soon, but also not too slow to bore you. Perfect for love making. 

Your moans and his grunts along with the soft squeaking noises of the couch bounced off the walls of your living room. His sweat drenched body collided with yours over and over again, his cockhead occasionally hitting your g-spot. He’d feel the way you’d clench harder around him, the way your eyes would roll back and the louder whimpers leaving your lips when he’d hit the right spots. Baji was a very perceptive man, paying close attention to the movements that would entice such reactions and recreating them. 

He angles his dick, hitting your g-spot over and over again. Baji’s efforts paid off, the sweet moans growing more frantic and your velvety walls clenching around his dick so deliciously were his rewards. 

“You know, you look so damn pretty all worked up” Baji mused, giving your lips a yearning peck “But I need to see how pretty you look when you cum on my cock” With that, your lover supported his weight with only one arm while the other relaxed, hand sneaking between your bodies and playing with your overstimulated clit. 

You felt a tight knot building up in your stomach as Baji continued to fuck into you. His pace picked up, his fingers not leaving your clit until you’d come undone for him. All thoughts have left your head and you weren’t able to form a coherent sentence at this point. You felt so overwhelmed; the way he sunk himself inside you at the perfect angle to hit your g-spot with his cockhead, the way his fingers drew tight circles on your sensitive puffy bud, the way his body pressed against yours, the way his face contorted in pleasure, the way that despite him chasing after his release Baji made it a priority to make you cum too, the way your name left his lips like a prayer. It made the tight knot burst.

You cried out his name as you came undone on his dick, just like he wanted you to. You arched your back as the wave of pleasure washed over you, legs shaking at how hard you came. 

Baji couldn’t get enough of your fucked out face. His fingers stopped their assault on your spent clit, instead gripping your hip lightly. His movements stuttered, his own orgasm building up. Your walls clenched around him so tightly, begging to be filled up with his cum. With one last strong thrust, Baji emptied himself inside of you, feeling the warm embrace of your velvety walls milking him dry for all he’s worth. 

Your lover collapsed on top of you, spent from the physical and emotional release. Baji buried his face into the crook of your neck and kissed your tender skin while your fingers raked through his long raven hair. 

“I love you so damn much” He mumbled in between kisses “And I love being able to tell you that I love you. I love that you’re officially mine”

Warmth rushed to your cheeks at his admission of love. Despite laying naked under him, hearing Baji say that he loves you never fails to make you feel like you were on fire. 

You chuckled, feeling butterflies in your stomach “Officially yours? When did you ask me?”

A deep chuckle rumbled through him as you teased him “Don’t be like that. You didn’t mind when you were screaming out my name not even 10 minutes ago” Baji lifted his face from your neck, a sly smirk adorning his handsome features “You’re mine, and I’m yours” he ended with a sweet kiss on your lips. You held his face and kissed him back, feeling warmth spread all over your body as he stated his claim over you. 

The ravenette pulled away from the kiss and gently caressed your cheek “You know, I was also absolutely right about you looking beautiful when you come all over me” You wanted to scoff and tease him, but the soft, adoring look in his eyes made you reconsider. No traces of teasing. Baji really meant it. 

Instead, you collected yourself and asked “So, you said you’ll stay over, right?” The way you’ve said it sounded so soft to him, he too didn’t have the heart to tease you for the remainder of the night. 

“Mhm, gonna stay the night” Baji placed a small kiss on your forehead “Come, I’ll carry you to your bed”

[logansargeantsbabymom]

I'm Sorry

Lance Stroll x Fem!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

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My heart raced as Lance stormed out of our apartment after our explosive argument. The slamming door echoed in my ears, leaving a hollow ache in my chest. Tears blurred my vision as I sank onto the couch, trying to process the hurtful words we had exchanged. I never expected him to call me that name, never imagined he would suggest breaking up.

Hours passed like an eternity. I paced the living room, my anxiety mounting with every unanswered call and text message. Where was he? Why wasn't he answering? My mind conjured up the worst scenarios—accidents, emergencies, anything to explain his absence. Fear gripped me like a vice, squeezing tighter with each passing minute.

When Lance finally returned, the relief that flooded through me was quickly overtaken by a surge of anger. He looked tired and defeated as he stood in the doorway, his eyes avoiding mine.

"Where were you?!" I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and worry. "I've been calling and texting you all day! I thought something had happened to you!"

Lance sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "I needed some space, Y/N. I'm sorry for worrying you."

His apology only fueled my frustration. "Space?! You disappear all day without a word, and you think that's okay? I thought… I thought you were dead, Lance!"

The weight of my words hung heavily between us. Lance looked stricken, his expression pained as he realized the depth of my fear.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, stepping closer. "I didn't mean to scare you. I should have let you know I was okay."

Tears streamed down my cheeks, my emotions raw and tumultuous. "You can't just… disappear like that," I whispered, feeling the hurt and fear spill over. "I was so scared, Lance."

He nodded, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I know. And I'm sorry. I messed up, Y/N. I messed up."

Silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken apologies and regrets. Lance reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. My breath caught as he opened it, revealing a key fob with the Aston Martin emblem.

"I got this for you," he said quietly. "It's not to make up for what I said or what I did today. It's to show you how much I regret hurting you."

I looked at the key fob, its significance not lost on me. It was more than a gift—it was a plea for forgiveness, a symbol of his remorse.

"Lance…" I began, my voice wavering. "I don't know…"

He stepped closer, placing the key fob gently in my hand. "Please, Y/N. I love you. I never want to hurt you like this again."

I closed my fingers around the key fob, feeling its weight and the weight of his words. Could I forgive him? Could I let go of the hurt and anger that had consumed me all day?

"Lance," I whispered, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "I love you too."

He pulled me into his arms, holding me close as we stood there in the doorway. The tension between us slowly melted away, replaced by a tentative hope for reconciliation.

The Aston Martin sat outside, its sleek lines reflecting the streetlights. It wasn't just a car—it was a promise. A promise to communicate better, to cherish each other, and to navigate the bumps and curves of our relationship with more care.

As Lance held me, I knew that forgiveness wasn't easy, but it was possible. And as we stood together, embracing the fragile yet resilient bond we shared, I dared to believe that we could overcome even our darkest moments, stronger together than we had ever been apart.

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[ughgoaway]

casual

It's hard being casual                                                                                                                               When my favourite bra lives in your dresser

a fic inspired by Chappell Roan's casual; snippet below the cut. 18+, 1.5k.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・.・.

Hot bodies press against you as you weave through the house, spilt beer making your skin sticky as more and more people carelessly dance with drinks sloshing in their hands. A playlist you don't recognise fills the air, and whilst Matty might be hosting, you can tell the playlist is completely out of his control. The vaguely rhythmic pumping drum and bass overwhelming your senses isn't something you can see him listening to, but maybe you just don't know him as well as you hoped.

Your eyes dart around the hoard of people looking for him and then back to your phone, desperate to see those three dots pop up and for him to finally respond. He never does, though, and when you scroll back, you see message after message go unanswered, unless they're about hooking up, of course. Those always get a response within minutes, which should be flattering, but seeing it laid out in front of you instead leaves a hollowed ache in your chest.

You know what you were signing up for the very first time his crisp white sheets got wrapped up between your thighs, sleeping with Matty Healy was a path well worn by girls before you, and not one of them had got a meaningful relationship out of it. More people have seen every inch of his skin than have ever seen his true personality, or maybe the faux rockstar cool guy act is who he really is, but you're not so convinced.

But that facade was all you needed. It's exactly why you started this in the first place. Misplaced anger towards your ex suddenly became you ripping a condom open with your teeth and sinking down on the dick of a man you'd spoken to maybe 5 times.

But that next morning, after he raised his eyebrows and asked if he wanted to go again, you ignored that screaming head in your voice to stay away and instead slid into his lap and put your lips on his.

Here you are now 4 months later, and your relationship is… something.  Matty would say it's completely casual. it's fun, low-commitment sex and nothing more. And when he says that, you nod and agree, immediately going for his belt to try and get those words out of your mind. And usually, within 30 seconds, with his hand in your hair and his dick in your mouth, it's pretty easy to forget. But it's times like this you're rudely reminded. When he invites you to a party knowing you don't know anyone and leaves you stranded, the truth comes crashing back into your head, impossible to ignore.

Some faces that glide past you feel familiar, but when a body crashes into yours and you look up at their face, it's the first one you really recognise. 

“George! Thank god, where’s Matty? he won’t answer my text” You try to sound blasé when you ask, acting how you think you should, running the gone girl “cool girl” monologue in your head. When George scrunches his face in confusion, you think he's seen right through your act, but what comes out of his mouth is worse than any transparent ploy he could've seen through.

“Sorry, do I know you?” George asked, nervously running his hand over his neck and looking down at you with squinted eyes. Suddenly, it feels like you've been shot in the chest, blood covering your clothes and hands. If you looked down right now, you swear they'd be stained red. But that's not very chill girl of you, so you giggle nervously and try and hide the crimson that covers you.

“Oh, sorry. I’m y/n. Has Matty ever mentioned me?” You giggle awkwardly as you speak, silently crushing the plastic cup of cheap beer that was forced into your hands as soon as you passed the threshold. 

Finally, after time dragged on for about 10 seconds longer than you'd like, a flicker of realisation fills George's eyes, and you expect an explanation. Maybe he's pissed, or high, or just not that good with faces. You convince yourself that there are a thousand reasons why Matty’s closest friend wouldn't know your face, but none of them match what falls from his lips.

“Oh yeahhhh. You're the girl Matty’s messing around with, right? The girl he fucked on the sofa at a party one time?” he drunkenly giggles, hiccupping halfway through his sentence.

Bang. The sound of a second gunshot fills your ears, and you swear you can feel the blood pouring again. He doesn't know it, he doesn't even know your name, but George's words felt like the eulogy at your funeral, as if he had just killed you and now he was sending you away. “The girl Matty is messing around with” not “Matty’s girlfriend”, or “Matty’s partner”, not even “Matty’s friend”, just the latest girl in his never-ending rotation.

Still, you smile even if you do feel yourself dying as you stand on the liquor-sodden carpet. “Yup. That's me… I guess. any idea where he is?” Even if you do speak through gritted teeth, George seems oblivious, quite easily directing you to Matty without a second thought.

“Uh last time I saw him was on the sofa in the front room, check there, maybe?” he shrugs, casting his eyes over your shoulder and smiling at someone. Well, it's nice to know he is capable of smiling, maybe he only does it with people who he actually knows, not people who he only kind of recognises for fucking his best friend.

“Yeah thanks, bye Geor-” Before you can even say a proper goodbye, he weaves through the crowd and shouts someone's name before tackling them in a hug. You wonder how he’d treat you if you were really Matty’s girlfriend. Would he cast you a smile and wrap you in a hug? Maybe you could have double dates with him as his girlfriend, then you'd know all Matty’s friends, the funny stories about him from childhood. 

You know the most intimate parts of Matty's body, the places that only your fingers brush, that you press kisses to. You know the tattoos that hide from everyone else. You've traced them with your tongue. But you don't know him. His favourite colour or movie, you don't know how his brain ticks, what his first kiss was, his first love, or if he's ever been in love.

He doesn't know anything about you either, but you think that's a blessing in disguise. If he asked if you'd ever been in love, you don't think you could lie. he'd see the lie in your eyes, swirling and fighting to leave your mouth in a way that sounded anyway believable. hed know that you are in love, right now. with him. No matter how thick you lay on the denial, there's only so much you can do to hide from your own thoughts.

So when you slip into the living room and see another girl on his lap with his hand around her waist, the third bullet of the night hits you, and this time you can't bring yourself to smile awkwardly and brush it off.

The blood won't stop. Each time his fingers stroke over her skin like they do on yours, you feel like you're dying. That any breath could be your last. The thump of the bass in your ears is replaced by your thumping heart, each beat permeating your skull. 

Thump. His hand pushes up her shirt, and his fingertips dance on her bare stomach. Thump. He throws his head back, laughing at something she says. Thump. He grips her hip and winks at her, pulling her deeper into his lap. Thump. She turns to face him. Thump. Her hand grips his cheek. Thump. He's kissing her. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your heart won't stop racing, growing faster with each second. You watch his hand move from her waist to her neck, pressing his fingers into her skin the same way he does to you. Subconsciously, your hand goes up to your neck, brushing over the very places where you're sure those same fingertips left bruises two nights before. Slowly, her hand slides up to his hair, gripping his curls the way you know he loves. You watch his hips jump at the feeling. It makes you sick to your stomach, that once empty space fulling with dread and jealousy over a man who barely spared a thought for you.

Someone bumps your shoulder and suddenly the world comes back into colour, and you can hear the familiar beat of the shitty music, the shouting of some teenage boys as a random girl takes her top off, and the chatter of the people around you. You can breathe again. But he's still there, her tongue in his mouth and his hand cupping her cheek.

Fuck. you need a cigarette.

[patscorner]

FAMILY DINNER PART 4 (FINALE)

Summary: Chris joins your family for dinner for the first time and it does not go as planned

Tw: Swearing, narcissistic dad, verbal arguing, panic attack mentions of alcohol use, mentions of ed(NO DETAIL), lmk if I missed something

wc: 3.5k

a/n: so sorry this one took so long. I've been swamped with schoolwork and writers block. here's the long-awaited finale. feel free to leave ur thoughts in my inbox

______________________________

You turn around at the voice, as you recognize it, but can’t put your finger on it. You turn around to look at Nick, whose head is also turned to look in the direction of the voice. “Who’s that?” Nick asked, letting you go and moving so you could see the figure clearly.

You don’t recognize the person at first, but based on his familiar figure and his almost distinguishable voice, the dots connect in a moment's time.

You gasp, your hands covering your mouth as your heart jumps in your chest. Your eyes meet the familiar eyes of your older brother, Cam. He looks much different from the last time you saw him, his ginger hair grown past his ears, and he’s started growing a beard.

You don’t say a word before walking up to him. You reach up and touch his face to make sure he’s real, and you're not seeing things; something you wouldn’t put past yourself, as this entire night seems like some long, tragic, nightmare.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispers, pulling you into a much needed warm embrace. You bury your head in the crook of his neck as tears, ones that you thought you’d run out of, fall from your eyes and onto his shirt. “Missed you, too.” Your voice comes out muffled by his shirt.

You pull away and look at the stain on his shirt. “Oops.” You say, smiling, remembering how Cam used to complain about the tear stains on his shirt when you were younger, but you both knew it never really bothered him too much. “Damn it. It’s been like 20 seconds, and you’ve already got my shirt wet. Like you're doing it on purpose at this point.” he laughs. You slap his chest and laugh lightly.

The laughing dies down and you guys are met with awkward silence. “So, what the fuck happened around here?” he asked, breaking the silence. You look at him sadly, before your eyes drop to your shoes. “Oh, you know, just a good ole family dinner.” You glance up at Cam, whose lip curls upwards for a second, before dropping. “What happened?” he asked, softer this time, looking for more of an answer.

“Dad met my boyfriend.” You say. “I sent yo-” you cut yourself off as your eyes widened. “Wait, why’d you come, you never come.” You haven’t seen your brother in more than 5 years, and all the sudden he randomly shows up to a family dinner? You’ve sent him countless invites to the family gatherings, all were left unanswered.

“Well, I couldn’t miss another boyfriend meeting. Not after the last one. Plus, I didn’t get an invite last year or the year before, so I was really confused. I thought you guys finally realized how nothing ever changes.” His voice was calm, like it usually was, even when talking about something so emotional. You nodded, eyes lighting up once again, as you remember Nick is standing behind you. “That reminds me. Nick! Come here!” You raise your voice slightly at Nick, who is no more than ten feet away on his phone, probably texting Marylou and Jimmy about their situation.

Nick turns around and smiles, making his way to you both. “This is Chris’s brother, Nick. Nick, this is my older brother, Cam.” The men exchange greetings and Cam turns to you. “Where is your boyfriend, anyway?”

“Currently? Probably getting processed into the county jail.” Nick speaks bluntly. You and Cam look over at him, Cam more shocked than I am. “Seriously?” Cam’s eyes shoot to yours. You nod. “Holy, fuck, this is worse than last time.” he rubs his head, as you nod once again.

“What happened last time?” Nick asks, looking between you and Cam. Cam shakes his head, “Story for another time, but let’s just say he did not stay for dessert.” You laugh at the reference, shaking your head at the memory. Nick rolls his eyes. “How are we gonna get my brother out of jail?” he reminds you.

You sigh, “I don’t know if we can. Where the fuck are we gonna get sixty grand? I-I mean, we could make a go fund me, I’m certain your fans would be more than willing…” You truly have no other ideas, and as much as you didn’t want to use their fans for money, you were desperate. You could see Nick hesitate at the idea, knowing his PR team was gonna have a field day.

“Let me help.” Cam offers, shrugging it off. You and Nick both look at him. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.” You say, shaking your head.

“You didn’t ask, I offered.” he shrugged again. “Let me help.” he repeated, this time more sternly, as if every other suggestion was out of the question. You look at Nick who raises his eyebrows. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” Nick responds, quickly embracing Cam.

Cam’s eyes widened, hesitating for a moment before hugging him back. You smile, knowing Cam was never the type to enjoy hugs or any sort of physical touch. “Alright, alright, if you hug me any tighter, you’ll pop my lungs.” he strained out.

Nick pulled away, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry.” He nervously shoved his hands in his pocket. You chuckle at Nick’s actions, before embracing Cam as well, yours a lot more heartfelt. “I’m so happy you’re back.” you mumble into his shoulder. He squeezes you tighter. “Happy to be back.”

_____

Cam now sat on the couch, checkbook open. You’d told your siblings he was back, and tears were shed. You had no idea where your mom was, nor did you care. She and your father were the least of your concerns, you just wanted your boyfriend. Even though it’s only been a couple hours, you were so worried about Chris.

You knew how much he liked to talk, and that scared the fuck outta you, but Matt assured you he knew how to shut the fuck up when he absolutely needed. If it came to his or his family’s safety, Chris would never speak again.

“Okay, okay, so I can get 2000 dollars from Mom and Dad, out of their retirement fund.” Nick spoke out, typing quickly on his phone. He had convinced Cam not to pay for it all because it was his brother, not Cam’s. Cam reluctantly agreed. Cam nodded at Nick’s words.

“I can give you guys 52 grand, I just won’t be able to get starbucks in the morning anymore.” He shrugged. You had learned that Cam was the CEO of a very prestigious clothing company, ‘Cam’s Clothing’, (very creative), which is where he got all this money from. “So with 52 grand, Peter’s grand, my two grand, and Nick’s 2 grand, it’s only 57,000 dollars.” You sigh.

“Yeah, but the officer only said it was an estimate. It may not be that much.” Matt chimed in, rubbing Maya’s back. She had refused to go upstairs again, and opted for sleeping on Matt’s lap. He didn’t mind, and you were too tired to fight it. Plus, you understood, Matt had been the closest thing to a father figure tonight, and Maya needed that.

The rest of the night consisted of you being held by Cam as he told you, your siblings, and Nick and Matt, stories about his life since he’d been gone. You were so happy he was back, and you let him distract you and your family from the tasks that were to come.

_____

The next week was spent sitting down with Chris’s lawyer, the triplets PR team, figuring out how to get him out of jail, and how to do so quietly. None of you cared if the internet knew, it was moreso the onslaught of opinions that would pop up from people who had no fucking idea what was going on. It’s been a week, and none of the triplets had posted anything, except for Nick posting on the group account that something came up and there wouldn’t be a video for a while.

And that alone was enough to send the fans into a spiral. All hell broke loose as theories and conspiracies flew towards the Sturniolos left and right. Some say Matt was sent to a mental institution, that one of the triplets was dying, that Chris and you broke up. It was chaos, causing you and the triplets to delete social media. You’d all be back, but you were already stressed as is, and you didn’t need to add dumbass rumors to the mix.

Tensions had already boiled over, when you went off on Matt because he blamed you for Chris going to jail in the first place.

“I can’t fucking believe your father put my brother in jail.” Matt scoffed. You both had been going back and forth playfully, until you made a joke Matt didn’t like, causing him to overstep. It had been a long day, as he hadn’t been sleeping and social media was getting in his head. You were just as stressed as Matt so of course the argument escalated.

“That’s got nothing to do with me, Matt! I told you all what was going to happen if we went! And if I remember correctly, youall said it was going to be fine! This isn’t fucking on me.” You spit out. You were glad your younger siblings weren’t home. They didn’t need to hate Matt, because you didn’t even if you were arguing with him.

“How the fuck was I supposed to know your bitchass dad was going to try and kill him?! This isn’t on anyone but you and your fucked up family!” he shouts. At that moment, you were also glad Peter and Cam weren’t home, because if they were, there would be a Sturniolo in the hospital, and a couple more charges on Peter.

“Matthew Bernard! What the fuck is your problem?!” Nick scolded. He’d been watching the argument unfold, not wanting to intervene, although now he wished he had. “Have you lost your fucking mind?!” Nick shouted at Matt, who looked at his shoes. You felt the hot tears roll down your face as you stared at Matt.

Your heart stung at his words, sure, but you always had a way of understanding when any of the triplets were overwhelmed. So, instead of shouting back at him, you walked up to him and took him into a tight embrace. He immediately broke down in your arms, his tears staining your shirt. His knees went weak and you slowly lowered both of you to the ground. Nick joined you shortly after, and the three of you spent the rest of that night crying in each other's arms.

So it’s safe to say social media had to go. That was a no brainer. So all of you deleted the apps, making sure the accounts stayed.

Now if someone were to ask you how you were doing, you would burst into tears. You missed your boyfriend and you worried about him constantly. Despite having talked to him everyday through the jail phone, updating him on progress, and him assuring you he was fine, you couldn’t help but hold the heavy weight of anxiety on your chest.

Your nails were bitten down to the nub from the chewing and you had rashes on your arms from scratching your skin as you thought about your boyfriend. Nick had to talk you out of driving to the jailhouse and demanding them to release your boyfriend, and Matt had to calm you down from multiple panic attacks you had just doing things that reminded you of him.

But finally, the day had come. Your dad and Chris in the courtroom, both in orange jumpers and handcuffs on their wrists, your dads arms behind his back, your boyfriends in front of him. Chris looked exhausted, and you assumed it’s because he never slept well by himself. His hair was unkempt and his stubble had started growing in, due to him not being able to shave. His bruises had mostly healed, except for the cut above his eyebrow you must’ve missed when he was in the cop car.

Your dad on the other hand, had 2 officers on each side of him, and his face was fucked up. He had a bruise along his jaw, along with a black eye and a bloody nose. You almost feel bad, but then remember he’s the whole reason you’re in this mess.

There’s no jury, so it’s just you, Nick, Matt, Cam, and Peter sitting in the courtroom. When Chris locks eyes with you, his face lights up and his eyes immediately fill with tears. Not only has he missed you, but he’s missed his brothers, his freedom, and his privacy.

The trial goes smoothly, the judge asks your dad to stop talking twice. Other than that, the trial continued without issues, both lawyers articulating their words carefully for the best outcome for their clients. The judge did not seem to bite the bait your dad’s lawyer laid out, seeing right through the fancy words to distract him from what was truly being implied.

You could tell by the way he looked unimpressed at your dad, even more so when he found out about his not so pretty criminal history. However, when it came down to it, Chris attacked him, despite the valid reasoning. The judge did recognize Chris’s clean record, not even having a parking ticket, which isn’t surprising considering the man didn’t have his license. Chris and his lawyer had their story down to a tee, while your dad and his lawyer struggled to cover up the holes forming in their version.

The judge noticed, of course, and he didn’t let them get away with it either. After what felt like years, the judge came to a conclusion.

“In the case of David, you’ll be sentenced to 3 years in the county penitentiary, with bail being posted at eighty-five thou-”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me! He hit me! Why the fuck would I go to prison?!” Your dad cuts him off, ignoring his lawyer’s pleas. He had stood up, causing the officers around him to be on high alert.

“Sir, stop talking. If you find it hard to do so, you will be removed from the courtroom.” the judge deadpanned. Your dad grumbled under his breath before sitting back down reluctantly.

“Thank you.” he clears his throat. “Where was I-? Oh, okay. Bail will be posted at eighty five thousand dollars, with a year and a half of probation.” he sighs as he directs his attention to Chris.

“In the case of Chris, you will not have to go to prison.” You let out a deep breath you didn’t even know you were holding, clinging to Nick’s side, squeezing his bicep in anticipation. “However.”

Your heart dropped.

“You will be on probation for six months, because you did assault an officer. I understand you have two places of residence, so you can choose what state you’d like to be as you will not be able to leave.

The judge stacked his papers up before looking at the plaintiff. “Get him in a transport van. And get Mr. Sturniolo out of those handcuffs.” The plaintiff nods as he starts towards Chris. The judge smacked the gavel on the table.

“Case dismissed.”

You stand at the stove, stirring the steaming pot of spaghetti, humming to Right Here by Chase Atlantic. It’s been a month since Chris and your dad’s trial, and things have been… rocky to say the least. After getting a mouthful from your mother, she left the house without telling anyone her destination. You figured she just left to cool off, as she had before, but after a day, you began growing worried.

The second your call went to voicemail for the 45th time, you decided to file a missing persons report. Of course, they claimed they couldn’t do anything, especially after you slipped up and told them it’s happened before, they no longer took you seriously, despite you informing them that it’s never lasted this long before.

That following weeks, you decided that she probably wasn’t coming back, so you got temporary custody of your younger siblings. That’s the reason you're still in your hometown, cooking dinner for 9. You knew the boys would be hungry when they got back from James’s football game, and since they had already got takeout twice that week, you told Matt to just bring them home.

Jules and Maya went to a friend's house for a playdate, although Julia insisted it was a hangout. So that left you at home alone, which you didn’t mind considering you live with 9 people temporarily. But your peace is interrupted by the door unlocking, followed by lots of yelling.

You roll your eyes and turn your music off, as you know you won’t be able to hear it anyway. James is the first up the stairs with a giant smile on his face, running up to you. “I won the first game! I got the winning touchdown, and even though some bitch fucked up my shoulder, I was able to catch the ball!”

Your eyes widen as you look at Nick. “Why the fuck is my brother swearing like a sailor?!” You exclaim. “You told me you’d watch your mouth.” You point at Nick after turning the heat down on the stove.

“Why’d you assume it was me?! Matt spends more time with him!?” Nick raised his hands in defense. “Matt knows how to watch his mouth, unlike you!” you laugh.

“She’s got a point.” Matt spoke. Nick rolls his eyes and James looks at you with giant puppy eyes. “What?”

“I scored the winning touchdown!” he announced. You laughed, and engulfed him in a big hug, grimacing at his sweaty body. “Congratulations, kid. I’m proud of you. Now go shower, you stink.” you say pulling away.

“Thank you.” he looked up at you before sprinting up the stairs. You smile as you direct your attention to the rest of the boys that had walked in. Cam, Peter, and Nick got comfy on the couch, while Matt made his way to his room.

You smile at the last standing brunette, your beautiful boyfriend, taking his shoes off. “Hi, baby.” he says as he approaches you, resting his hands around your waist. You nuzzle your head into his chest, humming as you breathe in his scent. Ever since Chris got back, you’d be clinging to him like a koala.

“What’re you making?” he asks softly, guiding you both to the stove, curiously peering into the pot. “Chicken alfredo.” you reply, taking the boiling water off the hot eye. Noticing the sudden silence, you turn around to see all eyes on you.

“What?” you question, looking down at yourself, checking that you didn’t spill anything on your clothes. When you find nothing, you look back up. “What?” you repeat.

“Chris if you don’t fucking marry her, I will.” Nick finally says, causing Cam to laugh. You smile as you look at Chris, who practically has hearts in eyes. “Nah, bro, she’s all mine.” he smiles, approaching you and cupping your jaw with both hands, before kissing you passionately. You hesitate out of shock, before melting into the kiss.

You swear you could feel every word Chris wanted to say, in that one moment. You could feel every word of admiration, every word laced with love, all communicated to you through one kiss.

“Alright, alright, get a room.” Peter grimaces, turning back to the TV.

Chris pulls away, rolling his eyes. “With pleasure.” he said, grabbing your hand, pulling you behind him as he started towards the stairs.

“Ew!” Nick exclaimed.

“I should’ve shut my mouth.” Peter laughs, shaking his head. “Use protection!” Cam called after you, causing you to laugh out loud.

“Chris, what about dinner?” you ask as he tugs you up the stairs into the guest bedroom where you and him reside. “They can get takeout.” he muttered, closing the door as he pulled you into another loving kiss. You roll your eyes but sigh into the kiss anyway.

He leads you to the bed, pushing you down so he can hover over you. “You’re so fucking pretty.” he whispers before wrapping his lips around your neck. You whine as he sucks the spot on your neck.

“Chris..”

“Hm.”

“I love you.” He pulls away, placing a kiss on your lips. “I love you so much more, sweetheart.” he whispers as he rubs circles on your hips with his right hand. “Now, stay still.”

You latch your lips onto his, continuing the passionate make out Chris had started downstairs. His tongue swipes your bottom lip, and you open your mouth a little, as a battle for dominance ensues. You lose, as usual.

You both are interrupted by your phone buzzing, and you pull away as Chris whines. “Baby…”

“I know, hang on.” You open your phone and see a message from Cam.

|‘Dont be silly, wrap the willy’|

|‘No but fr, that mf better pull out, theres already to many kids’|

You laugh and show Chris the phone, and he smiles before rolling his eyes playfully. “Fine, now can we continue?”

You smile. “Yes, sir.” kissing Chris as he groans.

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[enchantedflameandflower]

Gavin (Karl Urban) x reader!

Fireside confessions, cuddling and you finally get in those big, strong, muscly, hot arms!

Summary: When you started working at the lumber mill, you couldn't help but instantly fall in lust with the strong, quiet younger brother. But you're determined to keep it professional, until one work trip suddenly changes it all.

co-written with CheshireCatSmile

@kus-babygirl @shirley-girly @jynx15 @everchar-of-the-shire @scraftsku35

@deathlesun @billybutcherxyou @butchers-girl @hippo2211

karl urban masterlist

direct link to part 1

Part 4

Gavin chuckles affectionately at your ask about dinner and searches through his bag, pulling out some packets with the name of some new hightech backpacking adventure company. "Been wanting to try these for awhile...let's see...would you like the gourmet beef stew or the um...old fashioned chicken and dumplings? Or there's beef lo mein if you're feeling like Chinese...or...turkey chili?" He hands you a couple of the pouches to look at, his strong fingers brushing against yours.

You can’t help grinning. “Actually they all sound good. I’ll do the chicken and dumplings tonight.” He nods and grabs the beef stew for himself, then props them on the fire in a particular way to heat. He sits right next to you and you shift a little so your leg is just pressing against his.

He seems to notice. "The temperature is dropping a lot quicker than I would have figured for this early in the season. Are you gonna be warm enough tonight?" He presses his thigh a little more firmly against yours but when you glance over he’s concentrating on the fire.

But you can feel the heat radiating from him and it’s wonderful. He’s right, though, it is getting cold. “I brought a thermal and an extra sweatshirt, so…I hope so. I mean, I’m sure I’ll be okay. I’ve slept in worse places,” you smile at him.

Gavin turns to look at you, dark eyes swirling with emotions and unanswered questions at your admission. "I'll try to make things as comfy-cozy as I can out here for you,” he gives you a warm look. “After all...you're doin’ me a big favor comin’ with me. Jack and I really need things to fall in line with this for the business and...I really need Jack to know he can count on me." His voice trails off.  "I'm sorry....I didn't mean to...you're just easy to talk to."

“It’s okay.” You want him to be able to talk to you about anything. “I’m really happy to be here, for you and the business. I want you guys to be successful. I believe in what you’re doing, trying to cut responsibly.

“But I think Jack already does know he can count on you,” you add, watching while he takes the pouches out of the fire and sets them to cool in front of you. 

"I hope so. I have a lot to make up for," he says so softly you can barely hear him. He hands you some utensils and opens your packet for you then does the same with his own. He smiles and taps his packet against yours like a toast. "Moment of truth," he chuckles.

After a few bites, what he said niggles in the back of your mind, and you glance over at him. You hope the question isn’t too much, but you truly want to get to know him better. “What really did happen last year? I’ve heard murmurs here and there but everyone is pretty quiet about it. Was there…really a dragon? Why are people upset with you?”

"There was really a dragon,” he answers, meeting your gaze then looking away. “I....well I had some hair-brained get rich quick idea and I went off half-cocked without takin’ anyone's feelings into account. I wouldn't listen to anyone, I was so full of myself... Almost lost the people I care about most in the world and turned something amazing into a nightmare for everyone. I've had a long time to think about it since then. I can't believe how blind I was to everything that really mattered." He shakes his head and pokes the fire with a stick sending a small plume of sparks into the air.

You can feel his mood has plummeted and now you feel guilty for bringing it up. You chew your bottom lip for a minute thinking. You know he can be impatient sometimes, and gets caught up in excitement when he has an idea. Clearly he’s always hoping to prove himself to his older brother, so you can see how he could’ve made a mistake like that. “I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I shouldn’t have said anything. But I think your brother sees how much thought you’ve put into your work since then. He knows how much you care for him.”

“I wonder if my nephew will ever really trust me?” he muses, still staring into the fire. “That little kid has more courage than most of the grown men I hang with." Gavin shakes his head and stares off into the distance for a moment. Then, coming back to himself, he looks at you. "Oh hey, I forgot. I brought some cornbread from the diner."

It’s an obvious shift away from the subject and attempt to lighten the mood, and you’re grateful. He rummages in his pack and pulls out a tin. "Should I warm it a tiny bit?"

“Sure, that sounds really good.” You know which diner he means and it’s the sweet kind of corn bread, almost like a dessert, and you actually love it. “That was the first place I ate when I got this job. A special treat.”

"Yeah, their food is the best." He opens the tin and sits it just so at the edge of the fire. "You know...I think I may have seen you there that evening," he says softly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, as though trying to gage your reaction. "It was still pretty warm out and you had that pretty yellow sundress on..."

“Yes that was me,” you blush a little again, but smile. “How embarrassing to be caught taking myself on a date,” you laugh. “Going out all alone.” You take a bite from your chicken dinner then reach for a corner of corn bread, popping it in your mouth.

"Not embarrassing at all,” he grins. “But a sweet, smart, pretty girl like you should never have to go to dinner alone if ya don’t want to. We...um...we may need to fix that." He reaches to break off a little piece of cornbread himself. 

His leg feels warm where it presses against yours. His heat is addicting and you can’t stop yourself from wondering what it would feel like to be wrapped up tight in his arms. Your heart flutters at his compliments. They’re hard to believe but nice to hear. “How would we fix that?” you ask him even though your heart is racing with anxiousness.

"Well...I was thinkin’...you might like to go out to dinner with me sometime. Well...that is...if you wouldn't feel uncomfortable going out with your boss to dinner and...maybe a movie? I mean...I'll understand if you have reservations about… About mixing your work and private life but..."

Your heart flutters wildly again and your smile grows wider. You can’t believe this is actually happening. Even though the entire thing makes you nervous, you can’t help but want it. “I’d really like that a lot, Gavin. If you don’t think Jack would mind.” You finish the last bite and just then a breeze comes through the trees, making them rustle then making you shiver.

He sees you shiver and tosses a little more wood on the fire then scoots over and puts his strong arm around you pulling you into his side. "Definitely going to be cold tonight but I think I have the tent set up nice and cozy so we should be okay."

You almost give a soft little moan when he pulls you close but you manage to stop it. “Th-thank you,” you murmur. It feels so good for him to even care like this, and he feels good against you, but your heart is really racing now. “My um…my last relationship didn’t go well, and it ended really badly so if I seem anxious, that’s why. But I like you, Gavin. I just wanted you to know.”

"I like you too. I want to really spend time getting to know you. We can take it slow...no pressure. I've always rushed headlong into things in the past and...that hasn't really served me well." He pokes at the fire some more with his free hand but keeps his arm firmly around you as the chill settles in a little more a the first stars wink on above the treetops.

The crackling of the fire is soothing and his hand starts to rub your arm idly as he holds you. It’s more comfort than you’ve felt in a really long time. Without you realizing you start to drift off.

What feels like only a moment later, your eyes flutter open and you feel movement and strong arms holding you against a warm solid chest. Is someone carrying you? Then it comes back to you in a flash...you had started to drift off near the fire. Oh my! Was Gavin carrying you ...you startle and a soothing, low male voice is telling you to hush...that everything is okay. Then you feel the fat raindrops on your face...

You blink for a moment then open your eyes all the way and you can just barely see Gavin’s eyes in the darkness as it starts to rain. He crouches down right next to the small tent and carefully sets you slowly on your feet when he sees you’re awake. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry Gavin! I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that. You didn’t have to carry me...”

Gavin’s answering smile is so warmly affectionate, you feel like you might just throw yourself at him here and now. "No worries Sleeping Beauty,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “I really didn't mind. I just need to close up the big pack and put it up a tree. I'll be right back. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable and I'll be back in a few minutes. He brushes your hair back from your face gently and looks into your eyes for a moment then turns to take care of the pack.

Next up: A shirt and some jeans are coming off and makin’ out tent style! Let me know if you want a tag! Thank you so so much for reading and for your likes, comments and reblogs, they mean the whole world to me!

Part 5

karl urban masterlist

[lavendermunson]

with a broken heart - steve harrington

chapter 6 of miss americana and the heartbreak prince

summary after all the hard work one night can potentially ruin everything

cw reader gets distracted with an older man sorry mentions of alcohol, the usual heartbreak

w.c 2.5k

a/n all im saying is… she’s in her rep era in this chapter?

series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

You dance while cooking in the kitchen, and music playing softly in the background makes you so relaxed. While checking the pots and shredding the cheese to add to your pasta, the door rings, and you run towards the door.

"Hey, beautiful, I missed you.”

Steve hugs your waist and lifts you with a strong grip around your body. You’ve been feeling so alone without him, but you know it’s going to be a couple of busy weeks for him. He leaves pecks on your cheeks and puts you down so he can see your face, his palms cup your cheek, and he presses his lips against yours, not once, not twice but three times.

“I missed you too, c'mon, let’s celebrate!”

He joins you in the kitchen, helping you carry all the plates and food to the dining room and you get a special bottle of fine wine to celebrate with him. You two eat dinner while talking about your day. You tell him how much you want to go back on tour but you’ll miss him so much, and unfortunately, he can’t join you.

You spend the night drinking wine, eating, and talking. It’s so mundane, it’s something that you do with other people, but this time it feels so special. He rubs your hand and takes a sip of wine. Looking at you with that shine in his eyes, you feel so lucky to have him, and he does too.

He takes your hand in his and tugs it softly so you join him, closer. You sit on his lap, tangling your arms around his neck and kissing his face. Steve closes his eyes, letting himself fall in the moment and enjoying how your body presses against his.

“I’m so proud of you, I know you’ll have so much fun” you whisper, your words tangling his skin as you softly nip his earlobe.

“Baby–” Steve lets out a groan, pressing his fingers against your naked thighs and rubbing them slowly.

His touch makes your body fill with electricity, and his hands search for the wet patch between your legs and slowly tease your clothed clit with his finger.

“I can have fun anywhere-“

The alarm goes off, and another night having the same dreadful, hopeful dream. You were so tired, it’s been a week since you've seen him, and you knew it was time to do something about it.

You felt miserable, you kept doom scrolling on your phone and “accidentally” stalking him. You watch gossip accounts from time to time, seeing him in the arms of different girls, and it's funny how they all look like you in some sort of way.

You don’t know if you want him back, but you know this feeling has to stop.

Funny enough, your new album is almost ready. It’s a new thing, you’ve had fun experimenting and finding a new tone. It’s a mix of heartbreaking songs and ballads full of rage, with lyrics that had you mark the words in your notebook so much they bled through the page.

There’s still a week left until you start the next leg of your tour, and you are excited to go back and feel some type of love again. You’ve forgotten what that feels like.

You glance at your phone, it’s 9:00am, just in time for attending that painting class you’ve been taking to distract yourself. Your screen glows with all the unanswered calls and notifications from Robin, Steve and your team.

There has been times when you can handle even the hardest and most strange things that have come in your way, but right now your head is in a flight or fight mode and the usual answer is flight, get away from everyone, set the attention on yourself and maybe you’ll be better. Maybe you’ll start to sleep more than three hours, your skin will stop breaking out, the bags on your eyes will disappear.

But that’s just a maybe, and as your cat jumps out of your bed it’s time to get going.

_

Painting class was fine, it wasn’t a big group and everyone there didn’t really know you. They knew your name but you weren’t close to them, just a couple of brunches and coffee shops here and there.

“Hey! We are going to Mika’s birthday party in case you want to join us” Charlie asks, she’s been one of your favorite people to hang out with even if you aren’t best friends, you still have fun around each other. And what’s more fun than a party full of models?

“I’d love to!” you reply, smiling at her while you pack your things. She’s the one who introduced you to this painting class, and it has been a real change in your life. Connecting with your creative side in a way you’ve never imagined.

“I’ll text you the details, see you soon, babe!”

She blows you a kiss in the air and you do the same, closing your backpack and going out to the back door.

—

After you got the details to the party, you decided to get ready. The best way to spend the night was in a tiny black dress. The revenge dress. It hugs your body perfectly, showing off your best features and making you feel so sexy and so confident.

As you arrive at the party, everyone starts to welcome you with a bright smile, hugs from some of the models you know and appreciate, they’ve made you feel so included. A thing that didn’t happen so often, you felt so safe and so free. No attachments, no one talking your ear off about how great you are or how jealous they are of you. No negativity, no side eyes, or weird envy looks, just people you can hang out with and drink as if tomorrow will never come.

You ignore another call from Robin and join the group of girls at the bar.

“The first round is on me!” you shout over the music, they all applaud as you get closer to the bar and order a round of tequila.

As you wait for your drinks, a tall figure comes to you. It’s none other than Drew, an actor who has enormous talent and a big career in Hollywood. He is tall, handsome, famous, and a bit older than you.

“Thank you” you shout at the bartender, getting your shots and walking to your table, not after winking at Drew and giving him a smile. He does the same and watches you from afar.

“Sweet! Let's celebrate this birthday the right way!” Mika says, all of you raise your tiny glasses in the air and cheer for the birthday girl before drinking.

The first shot sits just right, it burns your throat as it travels down, and the taste leaves you dreaming of more.

“Another one! another one!" All the girls chant. Charlie goes for the second round, the third, the fourth.

At this point you’ve lost count of how many shots you’ve taken, but it doesn’t matter. You have everything you need, your girls and good music to sway your hips to.

You are on the dance floor, as the dj plays Mika’s favorite songs, and you find a liking for them. They are fast paced, not like your regular songs, they are more disco like with a heavy beat and lyrics that give you even more confidence. This night is perfect.

“Is it me, or Drew has been watching you all night?” Charlie says it in your ear, and you turn around to watch him.

“It’s just you,” you reply.

“If I were you, I'd take the shot. I don’t mean this one” she points at the cup on her hands. “Or maybe do both, you’ll need it”

You’ve drunk enough, but your body yearns for more. It’s the same with the attention, you knew he had been watching you all night, and you’ve been dancing provocatively to catch his attention. You could feel his heavy gaze on you and see the way he was undressing you with his eyes. It felt good, risky, and so...

“Is there something in my face?” You say as you meet him over the bar, he is drinking whiskey, and suddenly your mind starts to play tricks on you.

“No, nothing wrong I mean. You have a beautiful face.”

You giggle like a teenager, finding the seat next to him without ever breaking eye contact. He turns to the side to have a better look at you.

“You have a beautiful face too, i’ve seen it on the big screen.”

He laughs, and his voice is even deeper when he does that.

“You are funny," he says as he finishes his whiskey, leaving the glass on the table and getting closer.

You let him. Because he smells like something you know, but he feels like an entire new world.

“What are the odds of us meeting here? both alone and waiting for a good time?” he says, his voice so deep it charms your socks off. “Do you believe in destiny?”

“I believe in having fun, do you want to dance?” You ask him, forgetting everything he said earlier.

“I don’t dance, but I like to watch,” he confesses.

“Suit yourself,” you shrug, threatening to walk away from him if he doesn’t stop you. As if he were reading your mind, he touches your shoulder ever so slightly, but it feels like a million fires.

“Wait, i’m a terrible dancer, but i’ll try for you”

And there he is. At your feet.

“Join me, handsome” Something very deep inside you hurts at the nickname, but the alcohol and the smell of his cologne blur the feeling.

—

Your dance moves wear the alcohol off, you start to feel the pain on your feet, and your arms are completely sore.

“Someone is tired, maybe I can drive you home?” Drew says, he has been dancing with you for more than an hour.

“Oh” the way he looks at you, the smell of his cologne, and the way his body starts to warm you when he gets closer. “I’d love that.”

"Goodbye, babes, thank you for coming!” Mika gets closer to you, she helps you get in your coat and joins her boyfriend.

“Bye bye, love you,” you say, as Drew keeps his eyes on you. He takes your purse and then your hand, leading you to the door but he sees you struggling.

“Are you alright? Do you need me to carry you?” he asks.

“My feet hurt but i can handle it, don’t worry,” you reassured.

“Not on my watch, let me help you.”

You nod, he gets ever closer as he gets behind you and lifts you up from the ground. He carries you bridal style and you start to giggle, he finds it adorable and grins at you.

You feel like you’re in the clouds. The amount of attention, the mischievous feeling of care and love. You’ve just met him, and he looks good, he smells good, and he’s so, so strong.

As you get to the door, a couple of flashes come your way, you hide your face in the crook of Drew’s face and he starts laughing as your breath tickles on his skin. He hurries up to his car and helps you get on the ground, then on the car.

You forget who you are in the moment, and you lean up to kiss him while the flashes go on.

—

He drives you home, as he promised.

“We arrived,” he says, looking at you, with that same grin from before.

“Thank you for driving me home, it’s been nice to meet you and dance with you,” you smile.

“It’s been my pleasure, honey.”

You blush for the first time that night, the heat catches up on your cheeks. It’s crimson red the way he looks at you.

He starts to lean in, you do the same. His lips brush yours as he whispers, “You are so beautiful” His lips meet yours in a coordinated dance, and that’s when he loses you.

You remember, you remember everything. That night in the backyard, that night at the concert, that day at the little farm, that day at your house.

He’s always on your mind. His silhouette, his raspy voice, he comes to you as a ghost. The remnants of whiskey, he tastes just like him, just like your Steve. Even though he is not yours anymore, He is wandering around with a different girl a day, and you feel so replaceable, so hurt.

Drew’s hands press on the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

“Touch me,” you whisper.

His hands travel down your ass, where he squeezes and pinches with such intensity. But it doesn’t feel like him, it doesn’t feel like Steve because he is not Steve.

He is not the one you want, he is a vessel for something you yearn for every day.

You stop moving your lips, squeezing his bicep as you push him back to his seat. Suddenly, you feel tired, and a headache starts to grow. Your head falls to the side, resting on his shoulder.

“Are you alright, honey?” he asks, caressing your ass delicately.

“I’m, i think i should go”

You take your stuff with you, hand on the door and taking all your bottled feelings with you.

“Sure, i’ll walk you to the door” he says, fixing his jeans to hide his hard on and taking the keys off the ignition.

“No, I'm fine. I’m only tired and i have an early meeting tomorrow.”

You lie—anything to get out of his car right now.

“Can we see each other again?” he asks, breaking into your head and interrupting your pool of thoughts.

“Yes, i’ll dm you” you answer, but as you look at him, his confused face makes you giggle again.

“What’s dm you?”

“Very funny, good night,” you say, fixing your dress and ready to get out of the car.

“Can I get your number?” he asks, his voice softly pleading to you.

“Oh, you don’t know what a dm is?”

“I’m old, honey”

“Right, i’ll give you my number. You can text me, and we can hang out again”

You extend your hand, and he quickly understands, he gives you his phone so you can save your number in his contacts.

“Did we just hang out?” he asks as you type your name on the screen, you write your name without a single heart or smile. Your interest in him seems to vanish as his cologne isn’t so strong anymore.

“A little,” you shrug, handing the phone back he takes it without stopping looking at you.

“Alright, i’d love to do it again then”

“Goodnight, thank you for the ride” You kiss his cheek and wave at him as you get to your door.

He waves back at you and puts the key back to the ignition. You open the door of your home and get in.

As you get ready to bed you start thinking about Drew. Is it bad you used him as a distraction? Do you really want to see him again?

You take off your makeup feeling like something is missing, apart from Steve and now Robin. You are forgetting something but you can’t wrap your head around it. You put on your pajamas, the worries will have to wait until the morning.

As you go to sleep, you look at your ceiling. “Steve, please stop haunting my dreams” you whisper.

And on the other side of the country, he does the same thing. Wishing you were by his side and he wasn’t such an idiot.

i wanted to cry with this one because i’ve been through hanging out with someone because i missed someone else and it’s so unfair and heartbreaking ):

tags @eddiesguitarskills @hipsternerd9 @afraidofshrimp @rexorangecouny @crowssixof @wiltedflowerz-blog @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @thxtmarvelchick @kriitiihere @kitdjarin1 @peculiarwren thank you for the support!! (comment if you want to join the tag list!!)

I hope you like this series, feedback is appreciated! don't forget to REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR! ♡

[holybibly]

Bunnies, please spend a little time with this message, because there are things I want to talk to you about.

First of all, I'm fine. I'm so sorry for worrying so many people yesterday. Sorry if I haven't replied to your DMs yet, there are a lot of them and I need time to reply to all the bunnies.

Please do not worry. Your experiences are not worth me (don't even think about arguing about it), nothing in your life can be more important than you and your family.

Now let's talk about serious matters. I did a lot of thinking last night and it was a hard night, I won't lie. I am a very sensitive person and most of the time I accumulate emotions until they just drown me. The last few weeks have been stressful for me with work and I haven't had much time to relax or get inspired, but when things finally started to pick up, this message was the last straw. It really hurt me.

I hope situations like this don't happen again

Now, I want to talk about comfort and other things on the blog.

1. Nicknames. For all the followers of my blog there is a special nickname "bunny". This is a special nickname associated with one of my works - Pretty Flushed. This is my first popular piece, it is a unique idea and this is what makes my blog my own. From the moment I posted this, it became natural to call my followers 'bunny', as everyone who asked me questions or wrote to me personally signed themselves as 'bunny'.

Now I want to ask you - are you comfortable with this nickname? Did you feel anxious or uncomfortable when I called you that? I don't want you to feel that way, so if it bothers you, let me know and I'll stop.

2. The question of trust. As I wrote earlier, unfortunately I cannot be sure whether I am communicating with minors or not.Because the issue of age deception is very acute.

Neither Tumblr, nor Wattpad, nor YouTube, nor even Gmail can verify your age on a reliable, documented basis when you create a personal account. The only way we can find out is if the user reports it to us. And this is where the question of trust comes in. Can I trust you? Should I keep doing this? These questions are constantly on my mind. It makes me anxious and panicky. But also, how can we live in a society where you are afraid every day? My blog is a safe place for adults and conscious people, but I can't guarantee that somewhere among my 2.8k followers there aren't underage teenagers. Because I just don't know who's telling me the truth and who's not.

If any of my bunnies find out about underage accounts, please let me know so that we can make the issue public.

There is also the issue of anonymity. You can call me shameless, but I am not ashamed of my desires or thoughts, you all literally live in my head, but I know that there are people who are not ready to talk publicly about their desires and dreams, here are also people who are simply afraid to do so because someone might find out and use it against them. We all have different lives and we all have different life and social circumstances, so I understand all the people who are not ready, who are afraid or who are ashamed of their thoughts and dreams.

I will not block the possibility to talk to me anonymously and I leave it up to you. You can also DM me with your request if you don't feel comfortable with me posting the answer for everyone to see.

3. Communication. Bunnies, communication is important to me; it's true. I always want to know how you feel, if you are comfortable, and what you think of my work and of me. But unfortunately, sometimes my questions remain unanswered, and I begin to doubt if everything is going well. There is no greater fear for me than that you do not feel comfortable with me.

I don't know why, but it seems to me that many people avoid communicating with me. Some people think I'm rude or abrupt, and I don't seem to fit in with the general happy atmosphere. I am most comfortable with my bunnies. I enjoy playing with them, flirting with them, or just talking to them, and I'm very lucky to have made great friends, but I still feel isolated in a way.

It's weird; people always tell me that they've heard of me or that I have some kind of bunny fandom of my own, but I'm nothing more than a normal person. I will never lie to you and try to be better than I am. I am who I am, and I have no intention of creating a false persona in order to be loved. If I'm not right for you, don't waste your time.

I always tell you that you can come to me with all the questions in the world. I will never refuse to help you. Communication is the key to success, don't you think? I know I can be intense, and the way I communicate on the blog is unique, but that is how I see this space—without templates, labels, bias, shaming, judgement, and other things. This is a place where you can be yourself.

So let's communicate more and get to know each other better to make our lives a little easier.

I may decide to add a few more things here later, but these are the issues that concern me most at the moment.

Also, in terms of updates, the planned update for this weekend for full-length work will be postponed until next week.

Unholy hours have been on the air since the weekend. 

I love and appreciate you very much, my bunnies, and I hope I have been able to share some of my thoughts with you. We will work on improving the atmosphere in our little naughty house.

[kahluamystery97]

Satellite (HS x OC)

 Chapter One  (March 2021)

“Cmon baby, pick up." Harry Styles muttered to himself. Each unanswered ring of the phone frazzled his already fraught nerves. As he resigned himself to being relegated to voicemail the line came alive. 

"Hello.” Her greeting more of a question. 

"Hi, uh, hi um, thanks for answering.” Harry was suddenly at a loss for words. Fumbling and unsure what to say next he blurts, "I just, I won tonight. I won a Grammy."

"I uh, I know. Congratulations. I was watching.” She admitted quietly. 

She knows. She was watching. Harry’s heart nearly leapt from his chest. He pushed down the fear of her rejecting him and boldly decided to say what he was feeling. 

"To celebrate this win without you feels so hollow though.  So much of this is because of you." 

“Harry.’ She said his name like a warning. 

He knew he was pushing his luck. He couldn’t stop now. Harry braved it. 

"You helped more than you know.  You let me adore you," He played on the song he had written for her. The line was silent.  

Her laugh was flat and angry. “Just me? Did you call Colette first or is she next?" 

Harry swallowed hard. He deserved that. "I'm sorry this isn't where I wanted this call to go. I wanted to ask you to come tonight. To celebrate. Be with me.  Just having a little thing. We don't have to have any complicated conversations. Just come and be beside me. Celebrate with me."

Maggie Dunne felt her gut twist into knots. Had she had any significant amount of food in her system she was sure she would vomit. She picked up the phone to congratulate him. This was a big moment in his career. She genuinely cared that he should have a good night. She did not expect an invite out. 

Maggie knew if she wasn’t careful she could be sucked right back into his orbit only to be spit out again.  She surprised even herself when she said, "Text me the details. I'll try. I'm not even dressed."

"Wear whatever you like. It isn't a giant thing. Everyone will be so happy to see you. I could send a car for you." He offered hoping that would guarantee her turning up.

"I can get my own car." Just like that she hung up the phone. She had no idea why the fuck she was considering this. Things between Maggie and Harry hadn’t always been so complicated.

This is just a teaser. I wrote this story ages ago. I started it right after Harry won his first Grammy. I shared a really rough version of it a long time ago on here and it didn't have too many followers. I thought since the place seemed sort of quiet I would give it a rewrite and see if anyone was interested in it. It is more for me than anyone else. Just to prove that I haven't totally let all of my creativity die while I toil away in corporate America. Hope you enjoy it (more to come).