#sorry for this i’ve been doing this a lot

[rafeswhre]

orrrr rafe having to deal with a tipsy reader but lowkey being overwhelmed at the whole situation cuz she’s being so lovey dovey and clingy but they’re not dating? 😭

rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, suggestive comments

a/n: this is my first time posting i’m so scared loll hope you like it, thanks for sending it🫶🏼 btw english isn’t my first language, let me know any mistakes.

“I don’t know, Top!” You laughed loudly while talking to Topper, who, to be honest, wasn’t actually funny. It was probably just the number of drinks you’d already had.

“Girl, you’re tipsy!” Topper laughed at you while sipping from his whiskey glass.

“I’m not.” You rolled your eyes and tried to take another shot—at least, you tried.

“You’re done.” Rafe took the shot from your hand and moved it away from you. By the way, who knows where he had come from; you hadn’t seen him since the party started.

“What do you mean I’m done? I’m just starting.” You gave the guy in front of you a funny look.

“I mean you’re done, princess. Let’s go.” Rafe took your arm and started guiding you through the crowd.

“Baby, you’re soooo boring.” You pouted at him once you arrived in the parking lot.

“Baby?” He raised his eyebrows, looking at you.

“What’s wrong? You call me princess all the damn time, I don’t say shit to ya, big boy.” You rolled your eyes.

“Watch that mouth of yours.” He leaned back against his car.

“Why are you so grumpy all the time?” You slowly got closer to him, resting your hands on his shoulders and giving them a little squeeze.

Rafe looked closely at your hands moving down his arms. “I’m not grumpy all the time.”

“I’m not grumpy all the time.” You imitated him in a funny voice and burst out laughing before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “’Course you are.” You whispered in his ear.

Rafe cleared his throat and looked everywhere but at your eyes. “Come on, let’s get you home.” He tried to escape your little grip.

“I don’t wanna go home, Ray!” You pouted again. “Let’s stay here; we could have so much fun! More fun than we’d have in your car, let me tell ya.”

“Why are you so complicated?” He rolled his eyes.

“Why are you so boring?” You teased him, poking his arms. “Although I can think of ways to have fun in your car too.” You got close to him, giving him a significant look.

“Stop saying stuff like that.” He opened his eyes wide, feeling out of place.

“Are you freaking out, Rafey?” you asked, teasing.

“Don’t call me that.” He frowned.

“Why not? That’s what all your bitches call you.”

“No! Just- just get in the car, kay?” He opened the passenger door so you could get in.

“We adore a gentleman.” You said as you climbed into the car. He closed the door and walked around the car to get into the driver’s seat.

The atmosphere filled with an overwhelming silence; Rafe hadn’t even started the car. You felt a little guilty.

While it was true that you weren’t entirely sober, you weren’t drunk either. You knew what you were doing; it was just that the bit of alcohol had given you the confidence to tell him things you wouldn’t say when fully sober.

“Rafe?” you asked nervously.

“Mmh?” He didn’t even look at you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—I know we’re friends; I didn’t mean to make you feel bad—” Suddenly, you felt like the alcohol in your body had disappeared.

“Hey, hey.” He looked at you. “It’s alright, it’s not that, kay?” He buried his head in his hands.

“So? What is it?” You tilted your head to the side, confused.

He sighed. “You know, all your attitudes and shit.” He waved his hand in the air, trying to make you understand. “You’re getting all touchy and clingy.”

“Oh—” You looked away.

“No, no, hey.” He gently took your face and made you look at him. “Look at me, baby. It’s not a bad thing; it’s alright—it’s just—you’re kinda cold all the time. I’ve never seen you this way, it freaked me out.”

“You’ve never been with a tipsy girl?” You giggled.

“Nah, yeah, I have. I said I’ve never seen you this way. It’s different.” He turned on the car.

“What do you mean? Why would it be?”

He turned on the radio.

“Are you ignoring me, Rafe?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” You frowned.

“Nah, I’m not.” He said while steering with one hand on the wheel.

You sighed and rolled your eyes.

[girlgenius1111]

study buddy

solstråle engen ft. @wileys-russo 's fresa! sol struggles with school, and facing the threat of having to repeat the year, ingrid and mapi try to get her some study help. it doesn't go... exceptionally well.

—

It was more frustrating than anything. For years, you hadn’t really given school much thought, or put in very much effort. And then, suddenly, you’d been shipped off to Spain and everything was different. Everything changed again six months later, and suddenly, school felt like something that held a lot more weight.

You didn’t have many opportunities to make Ingrid and Mapi proud of you. Sure, they’d say they were proud of you when you asked for help while having a panic attack, or for setting some sort of boundary. That just didn’t feel… right. It didn’t feel like it was enough. They were bending over backwards, every day, to make you feel known and seen and loved, and the least you could do was show that they were helping you, right?

So, very suddenly, school was important. Grades were important. It seemed, though, that the years of not caring and not paying attention had taken their toll. Because you studied, and you actually tried but it wasn’t enough. Your grades were still… mediocre. Nothing to brag about. 

You worked harder, to no avail. You tried different methods of studying, you devoted hours and hours to your schoolwork, and… no improvement. So much of your work felt like it went way over your head. 

You had promised yourself you wouldn’t be upset when you handed Ingrid the test you’d gotten back. She had a busy week and she really didn’t need you breaking down over a stupid test, like you had earlier in the school bathroom. Your plan was to bypass your sister and her girlfriend, head straight to your room, and maybe slam the door. If you acted angry, they were more likely to give you space to calm down, which meant there was much less of a chance you’d get all pathetic and upset.  

Only, you’d forgotten that Ingrid had known you were getting the test back today, having seen you study and study and study for it. Your sister was sure that since you studied so much, it must be a good grade, and she had a magnet all ready to attach your exam to the fridge. 

The minute you walked into the house and saw her waiting in the kitchen, freshly showered from training, an expectant and excited look on her face, you shrunk in on yourself, very suddenly wanting a hug more than you wanted to cry silently into your pillow all alone.

“How’d you do?!” Ingrid asked excitedly, her smile only faltering when your lip began to wobble. “Solstråle?”

“I’m sorry.” You choked out tugging the collar of your shirt up over your eyes before she could see you begin to cry. Ingrid’s arms were wrapping around you only a moment later, holding you tight against her as she floundered, confused as to what had upset you.

“Hey, it’s okay. Whatever happened, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” Ingrid promised, making eye contact over your head with Mapi, who had wandered into the kitchen and caught sight of you trembling against your sister. 

Ingrid thought something must have happened at school, and Mapi quickly came to the same conclusion. The thought that you’d done poorly on your test, and this was the reason behind your distress, never even crossed her mind. Ingrid had never known you to care much about your grades, and while you were trying harder now, she didn’t think something like a bad result could get you this upset. 

“I’m really sorry. I tried my best.” You whimpered, briefly wondering when you’d turned into this person who cried at the drop of a hat and allowed her sister to hug you whenever you were upset. It was so different. Everything was so different. 

“What are you sorry for?” She asked, heart melting a bit as Mapi walked closer and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before perching on the counter. “Tell me, Sol, tell me what’s wrong.” 

Wordlessly, you withdrew from the comforting embrace of your sister and swung your bag off your shoulder. You unzipped it, pulling out the exam from the red folder Ingrid had neatly labeled for you. You handed it to her, eyes brimming with tears again at the sight of all the red marks all over the first page. 

Ingrid’s first instinct was to sigh, but you’d been with her long enough for her to know you’d just shut down. Not to mention that she knew how much work you’d been putting into this specific exam. Prepared to ask you what had gone wrong, she looked up to see that the tears had stopped. There wasn’t a hint of emotion on your face, like you were preparing yourself to be yelled at. Ingrid had no such plans.

“Oh, Sol. Kjære, come here.” She said instead, pulling you back into her. There was some hesitation on your part, but after a second you melted into the hug, knowing that if Ingrid was upset, she would have told you so by now. “You studied so hard, I’m sorry it didn’t go well.” 

“I’m sorry.” You said again, frowning when Ingrid pulled back and placed both her hands on your face, tilting your head up to look at her. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You tried your best, that’s all I want from you.”

You shook your head, but didn’t say anything, instead opting to stare at your shoes. You hadn’t taken them off at the door, breaking one of Ingrid and Mapi’s rules. This additional mistake, regardless of how small it was, made you feel even worse. You couldn’t do anything right. 

A tattooed hand grabbed yours, and you looked up at Mapi. She had moved closer, holding the exam in one hand, her other gripping yours. 

“This is a passing grade, mi sol. Why are you so upset? It’s not like you to get so worked up over school.” Your face flushed, but before you could step away, Mapi’s grip tightened, as if she’d sensed you were about to run. “Come on, it’s us. You can tell us.” 

“I.. It’s not good enough.” You stammered, looking between your sister and her girlfriend with genuine despair written all across your face. “I wanted to do well. For both of you., I wanted you to be proud of me.” 

“Oh, Sol,” Ingrid sighed, exchanging a look with Mapi that only served to make you feel even more foolish. It had taken so much for you to admit why you were working so hard, and though you knew, logically, that Ingrid wasn’t trying to make you feel dumb, she had. 

You wrenched away from her, suddenly deciding that you didn't need her pity. Backing up until you hit the wall on the opposite side of the kitchen, you began to ramble. Unable to look either Ingrid or Mapi in the eye, you missed the sadness on their faces. “No, forget it. It’s fine. It’s really fine. It’s not a big deal, It’s my own fault, I’m too stupid to learn stuff my classmates already know-”

“Hey!” Mapi cut in, sounding uncharacteristically stern. “You are not stupid. Don’t ever say that again.” 

You froze, staring at her with your mouth agape. Ingrid took a cautious step closer, aware she was toeing a thin line between you breaking down again, and pushing you into anger. 

“You aren’t stupid.” Ingrid echoed. “You’re not stupid, and you know you aren’t. It’s just one exam, Sol, it doesn’t make or break anything.” 

At this, you averted your eyes, a blush creeping up your neck. This exam could be a determining factor in your educational career. Ingrid just didn’t really know that information yet. Like a bloodhound, though, Ingrid caught the scent of your secret, her eyebrows raising as she stared at you. 

“It doesn’t make or break anything, right?” 

It was a staring contest for a few moments, one you and Ingrid both knew she would win, yet you kept it going all the same. The silence became too intense, the gazes of your sister and her girlfriend breaking your resolve rather quickly. With a heavy sigh, you reached for your bag yet again and pulled out a slightly wrinkled envelope. 

Ingrid held her hand out expectantly, apprehension clear on her face. You handed her the envelope, eyes still training on the floor. 

“Solstråle. This is addressed to me.” Ingrid huffed, removing the letter from inside and beginning to read it. Mapi moved forward, peeking over her girlfriend’s shoulder, eyes quickly scanning over the letter. You braced yourself, prepared for the worst. 

The last time you’d brought home something like this… you’d ended up living in Spain. Which was potentially the best thing that could have happened, but you had a feeling the consequences of this letter wouldn’t work out as well. 

Your sister placed the paper down on the counter, raking her fingers through her hair as she thought for a moment. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. Part of her wanted to yell, but when was that ever the right choice? Before she could decide, María’s shoulder bumped into hers. Her girlfriend nodded in your direction, clearly trying to get Ingrid to see how terrified you were. 

And Ingrid couldn’t yell at you when you were like this, all sad and scared with your head bowed and your arms folded across your chest protectively. 

“Sol?” She said, her tone much quieter and kinder than you were expecting it to be. You looked up at her, shocked further to see that she didn’t look very angry. “Why didn’t you give this to me last week when they sent it?” 

Ingrid nodded towards the date on the letter, and you exhaled shakily. “I… I was hoping I could just try really hard for the rest of the year and do really well in all my classes and it would be fine.” 

Your sister nodded slowly, reading the letter over again. 

Mapi took the opportunity to chime in, her hand absentmindedly resting on your sister’s back, even as she fixed her warm gaze on you. “Nena, that is a lot for you to carry all by yourself. Having the threat of maybe needing to repeat the year hanging over your head… you should have told us.” 

You shrugged, blinking away the moisture pooling in your eyes at Mapi’s tone. “I didn’t want to disappoint you guys.” You mumbled. 

“You haven’t disappointed anyone!” Mapi exclaimed, frowning when you just scoffed in response. “I’m serious, Sol. We saw you study and study for this exam. You did your best, you’re doing your best. That’s all we can ask from you.” 

“My best isn’t good enough! I’m going to fail and have to repeat the year.” You cried, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation. The mere thought of another year of school was horrifying. 

Ingrid finally put the letter down, a blazingly determined expression on her face. “No. You’re not going to fail anything. We’ll help you, we’ll reach out to your teachers, we’ll get you extra help. We’ll figure it out, Sol, but you’re not going to fail. Not if I have anything to say about it.” 

For anyone else, that may have sounded overbearing. For you, though, it just felt supportive. It felt like you weren’t dealing with this yourself anymore, and that was a relief you didn’t know you needed. 

“Okay.” You said quietly. “Thanks.” 

Luckily, your sister knew you well enough to understand that after such an intense conversation, you’d need some time to yourself to process. 

“Hey,” Ingrid said, catching your wrist and turning you around slightly before you could leave the room. “I’m already proud of you, and the person you are. You could fail every test for the rest of your life, and I’d still be proud of you. Okay?”

You blinked at her for a prolonged second, before you nodded jerkily. Turning to head up the stairs to your room, you changed your mind, spinning back around and falling into your sister. She hugged you tight, as she always did, and you wondered briefly how you got so lucky. 

—

It was the following day that Mapi and Ingrid proposed their plan. Before they’d even said anything, you knew a few things. 

One, that they were excited about whatever plan they’d cooked up that day at training. 

And two, that you weren’t really going to have a choice in the matter. 

As a general rule, Ingrid and Mapi didn’t make you do many things. If they thought something was important, they’d encourage you to try it a few times, and then they’d let you stop if you still didn’t like it. That was how it had been for the school’s climbing club, the school’s hiking club, and the school’s baking club. All those were activities you enjoyed, but… activities you enjoyed doing yourself.

Well, not always.You loved to climb and hike with Ingrid. Frido, too, sometimes. And you could bake for hours with Mapi helping, measuring out ingredients and getting baking flour everywhere. But doing any of the above with strangers who spoke in rapid, fluent Spanish or catalan, was not fun. It was anxiety inducing. 

You knew this was about to be another one of those ideas, the ones you had to give a fair shot. 

It was at dinner, and you were trying to hide the wince everytime you picked up your water glass with your right hand, your wrist intensely aching after the time you spent in the climbing gym after school. It always hurt when you climbed for too long, though it was getting worse with every passing day. Another problem for another day, you decided, seeing the barely contained glee on Mapi’s face as she cleared her throat. 

“What?” You said suspiciously, putting your fork down and narrowing your eyes at the Spaniard. 

Mapi opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Ingrid chimed in. 

“Mapi’s made you a playdate!” She said, smirking when her girlfriend wacked her in the arm. 

“Ingrid, that is not going to help me convince her.” Mapi huffed, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. 

Still unamused, you continued to frown at Mapi. “I’d love it if you didn’t keep proposing ideas that you’d need to convince me of. Teaching you how to rock climb, trying to get that stain out of my favorite sweatshirt yourself, being the keeper while you practiced your free kicks, helping you build that bonfire–”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mapi dismissed. 

“You got stuck on the rock wall, my sweatshirt has a hole in it, the ball hit me so hard in the stomach I threw up, and both of us lost part of our eyebrows!” 

Mapi glared at you, while Ingrid hid her face behind her hand as her body shook with silent laughter. 

“Well this plan,” Mapi sighed, “is Ingrid AND Alexia approved.” 

That wiped the smile off your face. 

“Alexia? What does she have to do with this?” 

There were a few things you knew for certain about Mapi. One, she didn’t give up easily. Another, that she wanted more than anything for you to be friends with Alexia’s little sister. And from the sly smile on her face, you were almost sure you knew where this was headed. 

“I asked her to ask Fresa to tutor you!”

“No.” You said immediately. 

Mapi continued like you hadn’t spoken. “Fresa is a bit younger than you, but already finished your year! She’s studying to be a nurse, she’s very smart. Fres speaks English and she can help you with your Spanish and any other school things you need help with.” 

“No.” You repeated, looking helplessly at your sister. Ingrid looked to finally be taking the situation seriously, a familiar look on her face; one you knew meant that no matter how much you argued, she was going to get her way. Meanwhile, Mapi was still droning on. 

“–get along great with her! I think you guys have a lot in common, and it could be fun and educational!” 

“And you know all the best things are fun and educational.” Ingrid chimed in cheerily, this time her face telling you to go along with Mapi’s idea because she was excited about it, or else. 

“Educational.” You said sarcastically. “Super!” 

Still, you agreed, Mapi grinned at you, and Ingrid patted your back reassuringly. Mapi had a lot of bad ideas. You were pretty sure this would turn out to be the worst. 

—

You always spent more time at the climbing gym when things were rough. Back in Norway, you’d spend multiple hours a day, everyday, there. It was one of your tells; Ingrid always knew something was bothering you if you went to climb right after school. It was your way of shoving your emotions down before you could feel them, before your sister could read the hurt on your face and give you one of those tight hugs that brought tears to your eyes. 

Only, sometimes climbing didn’t do it. Sometimes, it felt like the walls were closing in, like you were about to suffocate, if you didn’t have some time completely by yourself to think. On those days, you really preferred to hike. You hadn’t felt that urge in a while; the urge to just disappear for hours, walk until your legs felt like they were going to fall up, and sit at the top of the trail until the world felt like a place you wanted to be in again. The last time had been back in Norway, after a day you didn’t even want to think about. 

Yet you found yourself in that same familiar mindset after your first study session with Fresa. 

It hadn’t gone well. You tried to go into it confident, sure that if you acted chill enough, she’d maybe miss that you had no idea what you were doing with your schoolwork. 

Confident, even as you arrived 15 minutes late. Scout had gotten his favorite toy, a small tiger that squeaked, stuck under the sofa, and it had taken you time you didn’t have to get it out for him. You could have left it, but Ingrid and Mapi weren’t home and you knew Scout would just sit by the couch and cry the whole time you were gone if you didn’t get his tiger out for him, and you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him to be so upset. And then you’d had a hard time finding a parking space at the library, and the directions inside were all in Spanish and Fresa had texted you to follow the signs to the study rooms but you misread the sign and went to the opposite end of the library before figuring out your mistake. And you would have texted you were going to be late, because you hated being late, but your phone was dead and the cord from your car had gone missing. 

When you entered the room, Fresa already looked annoyed. 

Annoyed, with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, twirling a pen repeatedly in an almost unconscious manner. She looked very… put together. 

“Llegas tarde.” She commented, rolling her eyes when you didn’t reply. Your face flushed a bit as she must have picked up on your confusion, repeating herself in english. “You are late.” 

Any other time, you would have known what she said. Your issue wasn’t really understanding Spanish, it was more speaking and reading it. You felt weirdly flustered though today, like your brain was distracted and not quite able to follow what the other girl was saying. Anxious, too, at this social situation you’d been forced into. 

Briefly, you thought about explaining about Scout and the tiger and the parking space and the signs being in Spanish, but then you realized Fresa wouldn’t care about any of that. So instead, you just nodded and apologized, feeling your heart start to pound from the anxiety of the situation. 

You didn’t like talking to new people. Especially pretty new people who spoke a different language and were looking at you like you weren’t very smart. Even if you thought that yourself… you didn’t want anyone else to think so. Any intention of actually asking Fresa for help with the mountains of stuff you were confused with went out the window, then, and you almost subconsciously decided to just… try to get through without letting her know quite how lost you were. 

Fresa was alarmingly smart. She kept asking you questions about your work, about what you needed help with. Everything didn’t feel like an answer you wanted to give. Fresa seemed organized, though, and you assumed letting her take the lead and decide what to work on would placate her. Instead, she just looked more and more annoyed with every passing second.

 She kept asking questions about this paper and that paper and you didn’t know what papers she was talking about. You felt so stupid. More stupid than when you’d failed your test last week. 

“How do you even find the right paper in there?” Fresa asked, pulling a judgemental look as you rifled through your bag, searching for the article she was asking for.

Your bag was a mess, you knew it was a mess. You’d knocked your coffee over all your folders a few days ago, sitting at the counter when Scout barked and startled you. That was oddly upsetting in and of itself because Ingrid had gotten you the folders and labeled them for you and you felt like you’d destroyed something nice she’d done for you. You hadn’t told her, not wanting to hurt her feelings or anything, so now your school papers were living crinkled and disorganized in your bag.

And you were pretty sure the article Fresa was asking for had been a casualty of the coffee incident, because you’d scanned the paper and thought it wasn’t important before throwing it out. The Spanish had confused you, and you hadn’t realized you’d need the article for an assignment. Stupid. 

 You were feeling more and more embarrassed as the minutes passed. And, maybe, your reaction to feeling embarrassed was always anger. You pulled out a random piece of paper, slamming it down onto the table with more force than necessary in your haste to give the Spaniard something. 

Fresa instantly knew that what you’d given her wasn’t the right article, asking again if you had it as you shoved the other paper back into your bag. 

Logically, you knew you should just… admit you threw it away because you didn’t realize you needed it. For some reason, you just couldn’t get the words out of your mouth. You couldn’t get any words out of your mouth, feeling shockingly like crying. Nothing was going right and you were making yourself look like an idiot and all you could do was shrug as Fresa looked at you and took a deep breath. 

Then, she seemed to come to some kind of realization, her expression softening slightly. 

“Can you not read this? The spanish?” 

You flinched, feeling your face flush. Again, the reply of ‘no I can’t, would you please help me?’ seemed to evade you. Instead, you spewed some lie about being able to read the article, calling Fresa’s questions stupid and telling her she was wasting your time. 

Fresa seemed to have reached her breaking point, her voice rising as yours had. You didn’t really hear what she said, much too distracted by the way her eyebrows knitted together when she was frustrated, and the way her hand tightly gripped the pen she was holding. 

Then, she made an offensive impression of your shrugging. And if you hadn’t been angry before, you were absolutely fuming now. 

So what if you were quiet? It wasn’t like you really needed to talk much, considering how many questions she’d asked. You were furious at being called out for all your bullshit, feeling like a mess compared to the perfect girl next to you. A very angry mess who’d had a long day and was cursing one María León for making her do this and cursing the beautiful girl next to her for being so infuriating.  

“Alexia’s super little sister. Everyone says you are so smart. Can you not see I do not want your help? You want to be a doctor, no? So go find someone who does.” 

Fresa’s nostrils flared as she shoved her chair away from the table and got to her feet. She began angrily putting her stuff into her bag, and you remained completely still, unable to stop this whole meeting from going up in flames. 

“Eres un maldita idiota!” Fresa snapped, her face red with anger. 

There wasn’t really anything worse she could have said to you at that moment. 

“Snobbete kjerring.” You threw back, feeling a sharp spike of satisfaction when she zipped her bag angrily, completely incapable of understanding what you’d called her. 

“You know, I did this as a favor, tonta. I have worked all day, I came right here after my shift, on time. I have my own studies to do because yes, I want to be a nurse. I am smart, and I know what I want to do with my life. Maybe if you get your head out of your own ass, Engen, you might too! And you are right, this is a waste of time. My time!”

Fresa stomped out of the room, then, and you waited until she was out of sight before dropping your head into your hands with a deep sigh. 

That couldn’t have gone… any worse. And though it was probably all mostly your fault, you couldn’t help the resentment building for the intelligent, stuck up girl that had thrown insult after insult at you, hitting you in all the places it hurt. You packed your own stuff up once you were sure you wouldn’t run into Fresa again in the parking lot or something, shuffling dejectedly to your car.

The overthinking had begun. Was it really overthinking, you wondered, if you’d actually completely fucked up and the reasons for your anxiety were entirely reasonable? You weren’t sure, and you supposed it didn’t matter, your thoughts quickly spiraling as you rewinded the short meeting in your head. 

The shrugging had really gotten to her, but you weren’t sure what else to do. When in doubt, you had learned silence got you the best results. Often, no one really cared what you had to say anyway. Fresa was different, though, looking at you with her wide eyes, expecting an answer. It was intimidating. It scared you, honestly, how well the other girl seemed to see right through you. 

And maybe… maybe there were some other feelings brewing. Ones you didn’t want to consider. Feeling that didn’t even matter given the way Fresa had stormed out. It didn’t seem like there would be another study session.

This led you to your other problem. You’d fucked this up. Something your sister and Mapi had gone out of their way to set up for you, because they didn’t want you to have to repeat the year. 

You didn’t like to make mistakes. Every single one you made carried the risk that Ingrid would lose her patience with you, and give up. She hadn’t yet, and you’d messed up a fair amount in the past several months, but you couldn’t let yourself believe that no mistake could push her away. That just wasn’t a possibility. So, rather than face your failure, tell Ingrid and Mapi how awkward and weird you’d been, you ran. 

Or walked, you supposed. Your study session with Fresa had ended at 4:00, and it was almost 8 when you found yourself at the top of your favorite trail, legs scratched and aching, as the sun slipped below the horizon. Your phone was still dead and now Ingrid was absolutely going to kill you for going off the grid. 

You broke traffic laws on the way home, any peace you’d found at the top of the hiking trail entirely gone as anxiety began to build up inside of you again. 

Stepping into the house, you slipped off your muddy shoes, wincing at the blood trickling down the few cuts on your legs. Before you could even set your car keys down, though, footsteps were pounding down the hallway towards you. 

“Oh, thank god.” Ingrid gasped, sounding alarmingly emotional as she rushed forward and crushed you into a hug. “She’s here!” 

“Dios  mio.” Mapi muttered, appearing over your sister’s shoulder a moment later. Ingrid pulled away from you, her hands on your shoulders keeping you at arm's length. Her face quickly transformed from relieved to furious. 

“Where the hell have you been?” She hissed. 

“I–”

“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You were supposed to be home hours ago, Sol. Your location wouldn’t show up on my phone, Fresa even said you ended your meeting early,” Ingrid ranted, though you began to tune her out at the sound of her name. 

“You talked to Fresa?” You interrupted, ignoring the incredulous look on Ingrid’s face, turning your attention towards Mapi who was staring stonily at you. 

“That doesn’t fucking matter right now. Where were you? Are you drunk? High? Were you fighting?” Ingrid demanded.

Each accusation felt like a bullet to the heart as Ingrid grabbed your chin and yanked it towards her, looking intently at your eyes. You shoved her away angrily; Ingrid wasn’t supposed to see you as that person anymore. She had promised that she didn’t, that she knew you weren’t a bad kid, that you had just been having a hard time. Now, though. She was looking at you like she didn’t trust a word that was about to come out of your mouth. 

“No.” You spat at her, grabbing your phone from your pocket and slamming it on the front hall table. “I went on a hike after I met Fresa and my phone died. I lost track of time. I wasn’t getting drunk or high and I wasn’t fighting anybody, but thanks for having some faith in me.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm, and even though you expected Ingrid to soften with a bit of guilt, she only seemed emboldened with anger. 

“Don’t you dare turn this around on me. You were supposed to be back four hours ago Solstråle. Four! This was so irresponsible. Do you not care that we were worried? Do you not care that we were here waiting for you? That Mapi made dinner, and you were going to work on her bike? Or that we were supposed to make cookies? After everything we’ve done for you, Solstråle, I expect more.” She was shouting at this point, pacing back and forth in front of you. 

You looked to Mapi, hoping for her to step in and talk her girlfriend down, but she looked almost as mad as Ingrid was, and you shrunk in on yourself.

“You are…. you are grounded. This is unacceptable, and you better never let it happen again. That is not how family behaves Solstråle. Did you think about how worried we would be? I am so upset with you, so disappointed that you didn’t think about anyone but yourself, that you were so selfish–”

“Alright, Ingrid. Enough.” Mapi cut in finally, stepping forward to grab her girlfriend's hand and squeeze it. You were frozen in front of your sister, fighting the sob that was building in your throat. 

Ingrid stepped back, her face still red with anger. A hint of regret flickered across her face at the sight of your lip trembling and the tears in your eyes. Still, you looked confused, and Ingrid couldn’t shove her anger down at your lack of understanding. She turned, stomping off towards the kitchen, leaving you and Mapi behind. 

“Sol-”

“I’m going to shower. Sorry, Mapi. I’m sorry.” You mumbled, pushing past her and heading up the stairs before the Spaniard could get out another word.  

Mapi sighed tiredly, rubbing her hand over her face. Her Engens were going to make her go grey. 

—

You had only just pulled some pajamas on after your shower when Mapi knocked, her gentle voice calling to you from the hall. 

“Yeah?” You called back, voice gravelly from all the sobbing you had done in the shower. 

Mapi entered, the first aid kit in her hands and a much calmer expression on her face. She was in her pajamas, too, clearly having been waiting up for you to get out of the shower. It had been a long one. Another thing to be sorry for, keeping Mapi awake. 

“Can I help with your legs?” She wondered, gesturing to the many cuts that littered them.

Shrugging noncommittally, you sunk down onto the edge of the bed, Mapi soon taking a seat opposite you. She pulled your calf up to rest across her lap, getting out the antiseptic spray and a few bandages. You purposefully looked away, barely having been able to get the blood off in the shower without getting light headed. 

“Are you okay, mi sol?” Mapi murmured, fanning her hands over the cuts so the spray would dry faster. Mapi had a way of looking at you, eyes crinkled with concern and kindness, that made you want to burst into tears. You fought that instinct. 

“I am fine.” 

Mapi sighed, unwrapping a few of the bandages and beginning to carefully put them on you. 

“Then someone else was crying in the shower while you were in there?” 

No reply came, and Mapi sighed again, tapping your leg to tell you she was done with that one. 

“Look, I know Ingrid was harsh, but you have to understand how worried she was. How worried we both were. I know you still remember the things you wrote in that letter all those months ago. Things like that don’t just go away, Sol, and when you disappear for hours without a word, we worry.” 

This time, Mapi got a shrug in reply, and a small sniffle. She finished up with your other leg, gently pushing it off her lap and pulling you into a soft hug. “It’s okay, Solstråle. Everything is fine now.” 

You scoffed through your tears. “Nothing is fine, Mapi. I screwed up with Fresa, I screwed up with Ingrid. They both probably hate me. Please, just go. I’m tired.” 

Mapi shook her head. “You’re upset, I just want to–”

“No Mapi, just leave me be.” You tried to sound firm, but your voice was shaking almost as much as your hands were, and you were sure you just came off as pathetic. 

“Alright, nena. I love you, hmm? Don’t be too hard on yourself.” 

You remained silent, flopping back onto your bed as Mapi walked out of the room. Scout hopped up on the bed in her absence, licking your cheek twice before curling into your side. 

It wasn’t being too hard on yourself; the self hatred you felt in that moment was completely justified. You were very sure of that. 

—

You were tucked into bed when the door creaked open again, Scout not even bothering to lift his head from where it was tucked into the comforter draped over your leg. You blinked your eyes open and they widened in surprise at the sight of Ingrid walking into the room, hair messy as though she’d been tossing and turning. She neared the edge of your bed, leaning down and kissing your forehead gently. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I don’t hate you, okay? I love you very much. Everything is going to be okay, so just try to get some rest.” 

You nodded weakly, impatiently pushing a tear off your cheek with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, Ingrid. Really sorry.” 

“It’s alright. You’re safe, yes? And that’s all that really matters.” Ingrid promised, and you nodded, sniffling pathetically. “We can talk more tomorrow, but just go to sleep, okay? Everything is fine.” 

“Love you.” You mumbled, Ingrid smiling softly down at her. You didn’t often say that first, something Ingrid attributed to having said it to your Mamma and not heard it back so many times. 

“I love you.” Ingrid replied, patting your cheek twice before tucking the covers up tighter around you, and heading out of the room. 

—

You woke up to a few unexpected things the next morning. One, it was almost 11 and Scout hadn’t woken you up demanding a walk. In fact, Scout was nowhere to be found. Two, the sounds of Mapi’s Spanish soap and Ingrid’s clanging around the kitchen echoed through the house. You’d forgotten they had the day off today. Ingrid must have taken Scout out to let you sleep in. 

The first two unexpected things, then, were explainable. The third… was not. 

A text from Fresa. 

Tuesday at the library. If you want to give it another shot. I think I can help. 

You thought about the way you’d behaved, and the way Fresa had spoken to you. Before you could delete the thread with her and close your phone, though, you thought about the letter you’d hidden from your sister. The excited smile on Mapi’s face when you’d agreed to let Fresa tutor you. 

Before you quite knew what you were doing, you pulled the message back up, your fingers typing away without you telling them to.

Yeah. I’d appreciate that. What time? 

There was something that drew you to Fresa, even as she infuriated you. Maybe it was how her voice had softened when she’d asked if you couldn’t read the Spanish on the paper, or maybe it was how she’d smiled unconsciously, watching Alexia score a goal the past weekend. It was a nice smile. And she had a nice voice. 

None of it really made any sense to you, but you’d already sent the text. 

—

For some reason, you felt a bit awkward. There was something very odd about knowing Mapi had been upset with you, because normally that was just Ingrid. But you knew Mapi had been just as worried last night as Ingrid, and just as upset. She’d been in the garage all morning, too, and you wondered if she was avoiding you or allowing you to decide to come to her if you wanted to talk.

After the 5th time you glanced at the door to the garage, though, Ingrid rolled her eyes from where she was sitting at the other end of the couch, typing away on her computer. 

“Go talk to her. She’s not angry, I promise.” 

Ingrid wasn’t angry anymore, either. You’d spoken with her practically first thing when you’d woken up, apologizing again and again and emphasizing that you hadn’t really realized how your actions would have affected Ingrid until it was too late. 

You’d told her about a time back in Norway when you’d stayed out all night after a fight with your Mamma, and when you’d come home the next morning, she hadn’t even noticed that you’d been gone. Ingrid understood a bit more, then, and was quick to hug you tight and whisper that she forgave you.

And even though Mapi had come in last night and tried to make you feel better, you knew she might have been waiting to be upset until she knew for sure you were okay. That made you even more nervous. 

Ingrid snorted from behind you when you knocked on the door to the garage, as normally you just walked right in. You shot her a glare, stepping inside the garage at the sound of Mapi’s quiet come in. 

The defender didn’t glance up as you walked in, but you took a seat in the chair next to her. Your chair. 

It was quiet for a moment, the sounds of Mapi’s metal tool gently clanging against the bike. 

“What did Fresa say to you last night?” You blurted out, face flushing red because why was that the first thing out of your mouth. 

Mapi fixed you with a half amused look, shaking her head. “That is what you’re asking?” 

“No.” You sighed. “Are you mad at me?” 

“No.” Mapi echoed, going quiet for a moment as she thought. “Not mad. It’s just hard for me, Sol. Last night, you didn’t even think that we’d be worried about you and where you were. It just makes me a bit sad.”

“Oh.” 

“And it’s not your fault, nena. I just worry for you.” 

You nodded slowly. “I’m really sorry. I should have thought about how worried you guys would have been.”

Mapi gave you a half smile. “I know you are. And you won’t do it again sí?” 

Your head bobbed up and down rapidly as you agreed, more sure than you’d ever been that you’d not be doing something that stupid again. 

“Now. Why are you so concerned with what Fresa said to me, hmm? What did you do?"

—

[reasonreblogs]

Same for both. The thing with explaining the reasons with an apology for me is part of the “I recognize how this action was wrong and how I ended up doing this thing that hurt you. I will be making an effort to stop this behavior. I hope you feel okay calling me out on it going forward. I want to assure you that I am aware of what I did, why I did it, that I am going to be working on it, that this hurt you, and that I’m sorry I did this.”

To me the reasons and why it happened shows that they understand and how likely they are to keep doing the same things or if thy ran it, that kind of thing. I’ve had someone who was basically overdosing on Xanax day spent the most horrible shit to me, hitting every insecurity I had about our friendship and after the fact *not* apologize and just said something like “I didn’t reply mean it, I just said crazy shit because I was prescribed a higher dose of Xanax than a person should be.”

Like… okay, I get that… and… it would mean something if you said “I’m sorry, I know it hurt you and I said a lot of things I knew would hurt most. I didn’t know I was prescribed higher dose than I should’ve been until recently and it really fucked with my head in a way that I wasn’t myself.” Instead, I wasn’t sure if she actually meant what she said looking back or if she’d do it again only without her mind being fucked up.

She gave the reason without the apology which made it an excuse and a “so you can’t be upset with anything I said” when she could scroll back and see exactly the things she said to me even if she didn’t quite remember. However, with an apology, I would be able to believe she didn’t mean it and was in a state of mind where she was actively looking to be as hurtful as possible rather than actually believing hat she said. It’s kind of like how some people go turn out to be suicidal try to make everyone around them hate them before going through with it under the notion it’d “hurt less” when it happens. I think of one or two popular youtubers who did exactly that, posting outrageous bigoted shit before disappearing and after hearing they killed themselves, it clicked that’s what they were doing.

As for the telling a story for how thy relate (as I did above actually lol) it’s like… “listen here’s a thing I went through… to me it sounds like what you’re going through, so I hope what I did to get through it helps or if talking to someone who might understand better makes you feel okay talking about this.”

It’s like… it adds some weight or legitimacy to what the person you’re talking to is saying for me. I’d be more likely to take their advice or reflect on how I handle or perceive it vs how they might have. When someone isn’t grasping at all what you’re saying, it turns into defending why you’re feeling and going through rather than being able to just… talk about it.

Idk, been thinking on the nuance of this for a while. I like reasons, I like getting an idea on if this will happen again or not. There’s just a lot of “depends on the person/situation” tho.

[thecoochiefairy]

━━ 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑙 .ᐟ toji.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 27.5K word count. toji! fushiguro! third person omniscient pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, deflowering, angry sex, rough sex, sweet sex, sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condomless sex, creampie, kissing, spanking, aggressive toji, caring toji, lil bit of sweet toji, violence, grief, loss, family drama, mention of suguru getou, minors aren’t welcome!

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆visuals. ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘ songs to play while listening‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘

𝐹𝑂𝑅 𝐶𝐸𝑅𝑇𝐴𝐼𝑁—𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇𝑌𝑁𝐸��𝑇𝐷𝑂𝑂𝑅

𝐼’𝐿𝐿 𝐾𝐼𝐿𝐿 𝑌𝑂𝑈—𝑆𝑈𝑀𝑀𝐸𝑅𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐾𝐸𝑅

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ now look, you should know when i make a fic, that hoe definitely gon’ be long as fuck. so don’t scream at me, okay? let’s make this a lil early christmas gift to my babies. i think this my favorite fic i’ve written. i’ve chained myself to the bed to finish this. i loved this plot so much. so so much. omg y’all. please enjoy it. please. okay, i’ve said enough.

….small note for name pronunciations within fic— nozomi (NO—ZO—ME) ami (AH—ME) isamu (EE—SAH—MOO)

PARTYNEXTDOOR FILLED THE SPEAKERS OF THE ROOM, R&B CRAWLING AMONGST THE WALLS. This is where she felt most at peace, her focus directly on her regular customer. 

“This is a new color for me, are you sure it’ll look nice?”

“Stop worrying, the color suits you beautifully. No black woman should ever turn away from brown hair,” she tells her, lessening the worry upon the customer's face. 

“Even at my age?” 

“Even at your gorgeous age, Ms. Bernice.” 

She adds the finishing touches, removing the curling iron as she sat it down on the table next to her. She spruces out the layered curls as she gives her a grin, “You’ ready to see?”

The woman who sat upon the chair nodded her head vigorously in excitement. She had been trying to convince Ms. Bernice to try a wig since she complained with her age that she was losing her hair. She offered to give her an age-appropriate bob, layered in between its curls. 

Her eyes gleamed as she turned in the chair to look in the mirror, a gasp of surprise escaping her lips as she inspected herself in disbelief, running her fingers through the silky soft hair, in complete shock that it was a wig. 

Her eyes sparkled in awe before turning back to her stylist, “It’s—It’s amazing! I look better now than I did with my real hair!”

“You looked just as beautiful before. I just enhanced your beauty,” she shakes her head, “It came out perfect.”

The woman laughed as she took out her wallet from her purse, “My husband’s going to flip when he sees this, you’re gonna get me in trouble!” 

Ms. Bernice then goes to pull out a fifty-dollar bill, this being her tip after already paying her in full as she says, “Thank you, Nozomi. You’ve really outdone yourself today.” 

Nozomi instantly takes the money, reaching around to put it back into her customers purse, “I told you to stop giving me those big ass tips, put some gas in your car or something. You know I’d do this for free if I didn’t have bills.”

The woman chuckled heartily as she pushed the money into Nozomi’s hand, making sure she took it, “Of course I know you’d do it for free, that’s exactly why I’m giving you a big tip! You don’t need the money, but you sure deserve it, you work so hard everyday, it’s the least I could do for you.”

She smiled as she then accepted the money, “Thank you. I really appreciate you.”

Ms. Bernice waves her hand, “Don’t start your sentimental stuff before I start crying. Anyways, can I book you again next week for a touch up? I have an event.” 

Nozomi sighs, “I’m sorry, my love. I’ll actually be out of town, my older sister’s getting married. I should be back a week after that.” 

“No worries—oh, a wedding, how beautiful. Congratulations to her. Where’s it gonna be?”

“It’s uh… actually a surprise to me. To the entire family, damn near. We won’t know until we get the invitations, but she gave us the dates and bought the tickets, so kinda sorta a free trip,” she briefly explains, “I’d never say no to that.”

“Ooh, a destination wedding, how exciting!” The woman clapped her hands together, “It’s like a mystery vacation,” Suddenly an idea popped into the her mind as she spoke, “Maybe it’s Vegas?”

Nozomi’s neck flung back, “God, I hope not. She might as well have Elvis be her damn officiant.”

Ms. Bernice chuckled as she spoke, “From the way you talk about her, she seems a little bougie. Probably Singapore or something.” 

“Now she knows our black ass family ain’t traveling to no damn Singapore,” Nozomi chuckled, “If that’s the case—pray for me. It’ll be a shit show.”

The woman laughed once more before nodding her head and standing up from the chair, grabbing her purse that rested on the counter on the opposite side of the room, “Maybe she’ll surprise you, send everyone off to Paris or something.” 

“The girl is bougie—never said she wasn’t a little frugal,” Nozomi replied as she walked her to the door.

“And that’s why you marry a rich man like your sister did,” Ms. Bernice finalizes. 

“That we can both agree on,” Nozomi chuckles, “See you next time, take a bunch of pictures for me!”

The woman gave a wave before walking out the door, “I will, I will! Bye bye now!” She shouted behind her. 

When she opens the door to let her out, Ms. Bernice stops herself from tripping as she nearly steps over an object along the ground. Nozomi looks down as she notices a pale pink box. 

She frowns, looking around the quiet outside before she hesitantly picks up the box, taking it inside her shop. Placing it along the counter, she pulls the silk white ribbon holding it together, opening the top as it looks to be cherry blossom petals within the box, scattering beneath the pink envelope, golden words trimmed atop of it. This was her sister's wedding invitation. 

She turns down the music within her shop as she absentmindedly begins to clean, other hand occupied as she reads the invitation. Then, her phone begins to ring. 

Ami. Just like clockwork. 

She holds the phone to her ear as she answers, continuing to read the invitation. The squeal on the other line was a usual greeting, something she was used to at this point. 

“Did you get it?”

Nozomi blinks at the envelope, “I did. Uh…Kyoto, Japan, Ami? Really?”

She could hear Ami giggling on the other line of the phone, her excitement evident, “Yes, really! Isn’t it perfect?” 

Nozomi continued to look at the envelope in hand, the pink cherry blossom petals filling out the box, “I…” she sighs, “It’s perfect. I love it.”

“No, no. Say what you need to say before you start holding in your anger and it turns into an even bigger thing.”

“I haven’t been to Japan in two years, Ami. Not since mom’s passing.”

She didn’t want to ruin the mood, knowing her sister wouldn’t let her comment make her upset. She just wanted to remind her. The mention of a place they once called home made something in her stomach turn, their mother being a fully black woman, their father being a full-blooded Japanese man. Their mom met him when traveling for school, and they fell in love immediately, raising their family there up until her sickness. They’d been back and forth between Kyoto and the states, but both of them were home to Nozomi. 

 They took traits from both parents. Ami looked more like their father, fair skinned, hair more pin-straight then anything, while Nozomi looked exactly like their mom, toffee skin, only having her fathers cheekbones, freckles and eyes. Every time she looked in the mirror, her heart ached.

“I know, I know…but,” Ami began to speak, her tone now more gentle than excited, “I just wanted to have the wedding somewhere special. Somewhere that’s special to us…”

Nozomi sighed once more, setting the invitation back amongst the cherry blossom petals. Her eyes traced over the golden writing, a small smile spreading across her lips, though her heart was still aching.

“I understand. Kyoto is an amazing place to have picked, mommy always loved it there. But it’s your man’s hometown too, huh? Did he have any say in this choice?”

She could hear her sister’s soft chuckle on the other line, her smile more than likely a soft one as she spoke, “Suguru thinks it’s a good idea, his family is already here, that’s less expenses on us. Although we still had to fly out our family, it was a smart choice.” 

There was a moment of silence before she could hear Ami speak once again, her tone holding a hint of concern, “Are you upset? I feel like you’re upset.”

Nozomi shakes her head, closing the top of the box as she says, “No, no. Not at all. I’m just…I didn’t think I’d be back there so soon. It’ll feel a little strange,” her smile is weak, trying to be lighthearted. Keyword—tried.

 She then asks, “Is uh…Is dad coming?”

Nozomi and her father’s relationship hadn’t been the best since her mother’s passing. After finding out he had been cheating on her while she was sick, Nozomi didn’t have anything to say to him. Ami kept in contact—that was enough for her.

A heavy silence fell on the other end of the line for a few moments, her sister’s voice finally breaking the uncomfortable silence between them.

“He is.” 

Nozomi could feel her heart begin to ache again, her smile disappearing. The topic of their father had always been a sore subject, though she knew it was better left alone. 

“Great,” she mutters, beginning to place the invitation politely back into the box, placing her other belongings in her purse as she was about to lock up her shop.

Her sister quickly replied on the other end of the line, holding a hint of panic, “Nozomi…don’t be like that. I know you have your feelings towards him, I get it. All I ask is that you at least try to be civil with him? For my wedding? I don’t want any drama.”

“I’d never do that to you, Ami,” she tells her, “Wanna go down your list of invites since you think I’m so barbaric?”

She could feel Ami rolling her eyes, “Don’t start your dramatics. Not when I’m about to tell you that I want you to be my maid of honor.” 

Nozomi halts, dropping her wallet into her purse as she glances out the window, “Me? Your maid of honor?”

A soft chuckle escaped her sister's lips, “Well duh, who else would it be? You’re my sissy-pooh. I’ve already got your dress, don’t worry, it’s not ugly. You’re excited, right? Please tell me you’re excited.”

Nozomi nods her head as if her sibling can see her, “Of course I’m excited. I just assumed that you would pick one of your friends.” 

“Oh, true. I mean, Kim will be there to help you—“

“Kim?” 

The entire conversation halts. It’s not that Nozomi was dramatic, however the name did bring an annoyance to her chest that she couldn’t shake. This was one of her sister's good friends, a friend of hers at one point—up until she slept with her man—the same man she was about to make things official with. It technically wasn’t cheating, but it was a fucked up gesture in her playbook.

“Yes, of course Kim is going to be there. I can’t not invite her to my wedding.”

“I’m aware,” Nozomi mutters more to herself, “But if you expect me to be butt-buddies wit ‘Kim-who-fucks-bitches-niggas’ Kim? Then it’ll be a cold day in hell, bridezilla. I’ll be cordial.” 

“Well you better keep that same energy when you see the man she fucked, cause Toji will be Suguru’s best man.” 

A pen could’ve dropped. 

The name echoed in her mind. She couldn’t lie to herself and say at one point she wasn’t endlessly in love with Toji. She had always been stubborn, not as emotional as her sister or willing to be in love the way Ami allowed herself to. But when the opportunity came with Toji, she made him work for it. He was just like her—stubborn, stern, aggressive—but he knew what he wanted, and that was her. He was the only person that could soften those walls, and just when she was ready to be committed to him, she found out that he hooked up with Kim, knowing that was also her friend, Kim also knowing that was her man. Both of them could go to hell.

Nozomi’s hand tightened around the phone, “Toji is his best man?”

Ami let out a breath as she spoke once more, her voice filled with reluctance, “I…yes. I know you both went through a rough patch—“ 

Nozomi could hear her sister’s voice soften even more, her voice taking a gentler tone, “I know things didn’t end well with you two, and I didn’t mention it before because I didn’t want you to say some bullshit about not going to my wedding.”

“Girl, bye. I love your ugly ass too much not to show up at your wedding,” she tries to joke away her anxiety, “Just send me pictures of all the bridesmaids dresses so I can know how to do my hair.”

Her sister’s giggles came through the phone as her squeal calmed down, her giddiness evident in her voice, “I’m so excited. Oh my God, everything is falling together! I already picked out the flowers…this is gonna be so much fun! Kyoto! Kyoto!” 

Nozomi could hear her sister begin to ramble on about her wedding preparations, it was cute to see her so excited and in love. But the back of her mind filled with the endless possibilities of this being a disaster. Her technical ex was in one room, while her ex-friend was in the other. She didn’t know who to swing on first. But this was her sister's wedding. It would be a perfect day for her. 

….Or an extremely hot day in Nozomi’s personal hell.

                      ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆

IT SEEMED LIKE THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS FLEW BY, and she was now arriving back in a place her parents called home at one point—Kyoto, Japan. The minute her feet landed in Osaka’s international airport, the crisp air made chills come down her spine. Memories of her mom rushed through mind like a collage, her smile, her laugh. Her throat went tight again. 

When she brought her focus back to finding her exit, a familiar face held up a sign that read, ‘NOZOMI—OMI.’ The nickname made her smile, pulling her suitcase as she ran up towards her older brother, Isamu, wrapping her arms around his neck as she crushed him into a hug. She wasn’t the affectionate type—but she also hadn't seen him since the funeral. She was the only sibling that now lived within the states, Ami staying in Kyoto with Suguru after the funeral, and Isamu living not too far from them. Nozomi needed the space and time to grieve. But maybe family was something she needed too. 

“Woah—hey, Omi’,” he clutched her, Nozomi digging her face into his shirt. Her eyes begin to well with tears, unable to stop herself as she squeezed him harder.

Her older brother wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him as he held her, his arms holding her around the waist as he squeezed her back. She couldn’t see it from having her face buried in his chest, but his face held a soft, sad smile. 

When he spoke, his deep voice was soft, “You’re squeezing me pretty hard, Omi’. You’ scared imma’ disappear if you let me go?”

“Maybe,” she muffled softly, squeezing the tightest she possibly could’ve, “Just—a little longer, please.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

He was well aware of the emotions going through her mind. Not seeing any of her family in over two years was hard enough. But returning to their family’s hometown was even harder. 

She quickly wiped her eyes before actual tears could come, hearing his voice made her want to break down. Her and her older brother had always been close—she missed his comfort, especially with their sister too busy in her relationship.

“How are you?” She asks, “You’ been okay?”

“I’ve been good…keeping busy with work and everything that’s been happening around here.” 

There was a brief moment of silence between the two before he spoke again, his voice a little quieter than before, “And you?“

“I’m…good,” she lies, “I’ve just been working. The hair business is great, I’m just…excited to be back here and spend time with you and Ami. I didn’t expect her to want to do the wedding here, considering how hard she took mom’s passing.”

Isamu could tell she was lying, knowing her as well as he did. But he decided against saying anything about it, not wanting to push the topic. His mouth twisted into a small smile as he spoke, “I think it kind of brings her comfort. Being here and all. She says it makes her feel like a piece of mom is here with us.”

He placed a gentle hand against her shoulder, his eyes holding a sad look as he spoke, “How are you feeling about all this? About being here right now?”

That was the burning question. She could handle being here, but as far as speaking upon her mom—she wasn’t ready for that. 

She brushed off the urge to cry again, “It feels nice to be here in Kyoto. I feel at home. However, the rest of our family, Kim, Toji, and our father all in one room? Ami has lost her damn mind to think that would go over well. It’ll be one terrible ass Jerry Springer episode.”

“She’s definitely lost her damn mind,” He agreed, “She’s hellbent on it all being perfect and everyone playing nice.”

“Did you know Toji was the best man? Since when did him and ole’ boy become so close?” She questions, watching as he begins picking up her suitcase, following him out of the airport, “And don’t get to defending your little boyfriend either, I’m aware at how close y’all are,” she threatens, referring to him and Toji’s relationship.

As he loaded her luggage into the trunk of his car, he let out a gentle laugh as he closed the trunk and leaned against the back of it. 

His eyes rolled into his skull as he thought about how to reply, “Him and Suguru got cool overtime, I don’t know. They’ve known each other for a while. Ole boy got a name, dickhead. I’m not defending Toji. I could give you reasons to hate him, but I’m not going to feed into that.”

His eyes met hers, a sly look in his gaze as he spoke, “But you’re not exactly the angel that you think you are.”

“Wh—me?! The hell did I do?” 

He knew he triggered an extremely long ramble, trying to hold back his laugh as she got in the passengers seat, “I don’t fuck peoples men! That’s Kim’s slimy ass! And I’m not the one with the dick that fucked Kim! Toji’s a slimey-nasty-bitch too!”

A loud bark of laughter came from him as they were on their way to their old home, another place Nozomi wasn’t sure she could handle being at. He snickered quietly as they drove, “It’s called a joke, Omi’. Damn. Chill before you pop a blood vessel.”

He chuckled to himself again, “That was some fucked up shit though, not gon’ lie.”

“Not fucked up enough for you to still be cool with him, and definitely not fucked up enough for him to be Suguru’s best man,” Nozomi grumbled.

“I don’t expect you to play nice with him or Kim.”

“At least your expectations aren’t as high as our sisters. You should lower them to hell, considering I wanna rip Kim’s arm off her body and smack her around with it. Fuck that hoe.”

His voice held a hint of amusement, “You got a whole lot of pent up anger and aggression going on in that frame. You might wanna calm down and get that checked out.”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” she grumbled, leaning herself more into the window.

As they continued to drive, she got a good look of the city. It looked as if it never changed. The trees were still healthily green, buildings still posh, everything was always so put together. This was home for her father as well, it made her wonder where he was, but the thought of speaking to him came back to mind. She didn’t want to talk.

Isamu could see her looking out the window in her silent behavior. Even as a child, she didn’t talk as much. 

They soon pulled up to the familiar home, Isamu turning the car off before looking over to her, his voice soft as he spoke, “You ready?”

She didn’t look at him as she sighed, “I have to be.” 

When she stepped out of the car, she looked over the childhood home. A shock came to her face as it seemed to be entirely re-modeled, yet still the same. Dark brown wood on the rooftop of the white house, caramel timber holding the walls all together. Lanterns were all around, glowing the building in a beautiful sight. An aura felt carried around it, almost as if she were here.

Nozomi looked back to her brother as her eyes narrowed, “When did y’all uh…remodel the house?”

He walked alongside her towards the front door, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket as he replied, “Ami started getting it done. A wedding gift to herself, I guess.”

She nods her head, still looking up, keeping her eyes along the trees that hunched over the home. She then hears her brother ask, “You don’t like it?”

She shakes her head, “Nah, it’s perfect. Mom always wanted this place remodeled, dad always griped about wanting a traditional home. She would’ve loved it.”

He chuckled under his breath, the sound a little sad, “Yeah…she always wanted all the fancy things. She would’ve loved this home. Dad’s probably somewhere complaining about it as we speak.” 

Their father was old school, and wanted to maintain the traditional things that Japan had to offer.

“But who gives a fuck about his opinions,” she adds on beneath her breath.

Her attention was pulled as she heard a squeal coming from the top of the stairs. The house looked small on the outside, but on the inside it held about seven bedrooms, perfectly accompanied for a big family that was always usually within the house. The furniture was still pretty small, most of it low to the ground, similar to the beds within the bedrooms, more large, still being covered by Shoji screens, thankful that each room had space enough to muffle the sound next to the other. She was sorry for the room closest to the newlyweds.

When her attention came back, she was nearly tackled as Ami wrapped her arms around Nozomi’s neck, wrapping her legs around her as well as she locked her into a hug. Nozomi couldn’t help but laugh softly, holding her tightly as she said, “Hey, beautiful. I missed you.” 

She could feel her top beginning to dampen, a small laugh falling from her lips again as she said, “Ami, why are you crying?”

Ami’s voice was soft and shaky as she attempted to speak through her tears, “I missed you too. So much, it’s just—“ Her voice broke off into a sob as she buried her face in Nozomi’s neck, her small hands gripping tighter to her sister as she continued to sob in her arms.

“I’m here,” she sighed, pulling her closer, “I missed you more. Please stop crying, this is the shit we’re supposed to be doing on your wedding day.”

“I know. I know, I’m…I’m okay. I swear, I’m just…glad you’re here, Omi’.” 

“Is she crying again?” 

A voice came down the stairs, appearing to be Ami's fiancè. He was just as handsome as Nozomi remembered him, long dark hair pulled out of his face, black sweatshirt, muscles bulging through the top, a tattoo coursing along his arm. 

Nozomi said, “Yes, she is.”

“Babydoll, don’t cry,” he tells her sister, coming from behind and rubbing her shoulder.

Ami turned towards her fiancé, her eyes still watery from crying. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against his body, her face flushed a soft shade of pink as she smiled. 

Isamu clarified, “She’s fine. Just emotional.”

“Remember when you cried every-time it rained outside, because you thought God was sad at you for behaving badly at school? Yeah, shut up,” Ami insults their brother, both of them putting their middle fingers up to each other. 

Nozomi says to Suguru, “It’s good to see you. Are you happy about the wedding being in your hometown? Is your family excited?”

The soon-to-be husband chuckled quietly as he spoke, his arms still wrapped around Ami as he said, “Everyone��s excited as hell. I can’t wait to make her my wife.”

Nozomi nods her head with a smile. He was sweet. Another question comes to mind as they hear a pair of feet circling the corner from where the office was, a familiar face appearing in the kitchen. Here she was, the infamous Kim. 

Her olive toned skin was always perfect, her dark brown hair up in a sleek ponytail. Her outfits were always classy and expensive. She was a beautiful woman, Nozomi could admit that. She just wished that beauty ran deeper than the skin surface.

Kim’s eyes flicked to everyone in the room, before they landed on Nozomi. A sly smile spread across her lips as she crossed the room, her voice sickeningly sweet as she spoke, “Well…if it isn’t little Omi’.”

“Hey, Kim,” Nozomi gives her a wave, wanting to say nothing else after that. 

Ami then budges in, “That’s it, ‘Hey, Kim?’ You can do better than that.” 

Nozomi raises an eyebrow, “You’ want us to start scissoring or something?”

“Jesus!” Ami smacks her arm, her fiancè and brother laughing at her younger sister's mouth. 

Kim then shrugs, “It’s fine. It’s nice to see you. It’s been so long,” Kim gives her a scan of her entire body, “It seems nothing has changed.“

That comment has Nozomi narrow her eyes, and it seems as if the whole room is holding their breath. She could admit, her and Kim were completely different, and that might’ve tied into more of her insecurities when the man she thought was attracted to her, went after her friend behind her back.

….Did Kim seem more calm? Eloquent? Classy? Knew when to shut up? What was it? 

Even if Kim was better in some aspects, that didn’t mean she couldn’t get the shit smacked out of her. Before Nozomi could dig into her ass, a pair of footsteps interrupt her foul insults, and when her eyes lock on the dark boots that stomp down each step, her throat nearly goes numb.

Each stomp of the boots was like the ticking of a clock, time slowing as she took in the figure standing on the stairs. A feeling of dread settled in her stomach, her mouth going dry as her lips parted but no words came out. Isamu and Ami both looked at her, noting her reaction. 

Toji’s tall frame came down the steps, his expression as cold and apathetic as usual, not that it was abnormal. The man had always been so stoic, to the point that it felt as if there was no life behind his eyes. Or, as Ami had stated a million times before, “That man isn’t a person, he’s a block of ice.” 

The more he matured, the finer he got. They weren’t much different in age, him and her siblings being thirty while she was only twenty-seven, but that came with a price. She was always blamed for not being as participant or even being a hot head, and as soon as she crashed out, her age was the first reason for explanation. But Toji never saw her that way. At least, that’s how he made her feel. 

The dark shirt he wore clung to his broad frame, contrasting the Japanese words that swirled along his arm, creating an entire sleeve that went up to his shoulder, dancing up to the side of his neck, disappearing behind his ear and clothing. His onyx hair and eyebrows, always low each time he entered a room. He was scary, sexy, tempting. Damn him. 

“Took you long enough,” Suguru said to him, “‘Fuck were you doing up there, powdering your nose?”

The tall man huffs in amusement as he responds, his voice deep and smooth, “I had to make an important phone call, you annoying bastard.” 

His friend gives him a smirk, as if mocking his words, “Who were you calling?” 

Toji rolls his eyes as he replies, “None of your fuckin’ business.”

“Omi’s here!” Ami interrupted, almost as if it was something to panic over. 

The entire room locked eyes with her, as if waiting for some type of reaction. They didn’t know what to expect. It annoyed her. When his eyes locked on her, she felt like she wanted to melt into the ground. One thing he could expect from her— she was different from her siblings. She stood in a white baby tee, star shaped nipple piercings poking through the top. Her green cargo pants were slightly baggy, hair in individual braids, poking in between  wavy human hair. 

They’re bohemian goddess braids, jackass. Look it up, he remembers her telling him. 

Her glasses laid upon her freckled face, almost looking similar to an office siren, nose ring shining beneath the lights of the kitchen. Small tattoos roamed her frame, large hips never discreet in any clothing she wore. She was fucking gorgeous.

His eyes took her entire body in, her usual appearance making his eyes narrow faintly. It made the scar on his lip twitch. She looked good, too good. Her brown skin was always just as smooth, her body just as curvy and attractive as always. 

“Yeah,” he scans her up and down, “She is.”

Nozomi has the sudden urge to choke him. 

Her attitude comes first as she completely bypasses him, looking at her sister as she says, “Show me to my room?”

The air suddenly tensed as she avoided him like the plague, his eyes narrowing further at her behavior. Ami noticed it as well, and she quickly nodded. 

“Uh, yeah…follow me.” 

She gave her fiancé a kiss on the cheek before she began walking up the stairs, gesturing for Nozomi to follow her.

“Who else is gonna be staying here?” Nozomi asks, yet she gets no response. She felt a mood shift within her sister, and she knew a lecture was about to come. Once they make it in front of her door, Ami turns to her and quietly whispers, “Why did you do that?!” 

Nozomi tilts her head, “Do what?”

Ami looks at her as if it’s obvious, her tone laced with confusion as she whispers back, “Ignore Toji!” 

She glances down the hall to make sure no one can hear them as she continues to speak in a quiet tone, “You acted like he wasn’t even there!”

“You didn’t tell me he was gonna be here, Ami. Don’t act like you didn’t purposely do that,” Nozomi replies, crossing her arms over her chest.

Ami lets out a long sigh, placing her hands on her hips as she rolls her eyes, “Look, I’m sorry, but you’re both adults. I know you’re mad at him, but you can’t act like he doesn’t exist the entire weekend.”

“I actually can!” She exclaims back in a whisper, “He can fuck Kim in every Kama Sutra position known to man. I wouldn’t give a fuck if he stood there in a clown costume! I still wouldn’t have spoken.” 

“Are you done?” Ami blinks. 

Nozomi then pulls back with a sigh, realizing how she’s being. “I’m sorry. Maybe I should just get a hotel. I don’t wanna ruin your weekend.” 

Ami shakes her head as she replies, “You’re not getting a hotel. Just…can you please try to speak to Toji? Like…be mature about it? You didn’t work out, sure. That’s okay!”

Nozomi blinks, “It’s okay? It’s okay that I was practically in love with the bastard, was gonna let him break me out of my abstinence? Take my virginity? Then to find out he fucked Kim because what— her pussy was free? Fuck him!” 

Ami squints, “You’re still a virgin?”

“Ami!”

Ami looks surprised for a moment before her face becomes neutral again, her voice lowering, “Really? You and Toji never…?” 

She pauses for a moment, as if realizing something else after asking that question. Her eyes widen as she speaks, her tone now in a low whisper, “How? You literally told me you had sex before? Did you lie? Why would you lie to me?!”

“Because I didn’t want you to think I was a weirdo or something, you were all experienced and shit, sex was scary to me! Still is! And you think imma’ let that gorilla take my banana when he’s giving his for free?”

“You don’t have a banana,” Ami reminds. 

“You get my analogy, though. My point still stands, fuck him.”

Ami groans faintly, raising her hands up to rub her temples to calm her growing headache. She sighs as she speaks, “I know, I know…but I need you to be mature about it for one weekend. Please?!” 

“I will respectfully ignore him, unless you want me to be so sweet that I slice his throat in his sleep. And that’s being charitable.”

Ami looks horrified for a moment at her response, her eyes wide as she replies, “No! You will not do that! My wedding does not include any cutting of throats!”

Nozomi stands there with her arms crossed, similar to a child before she huffs, “Fine.” 

“Good! Now go change and get washed up. Matter of fact, you’ll be in the kitchen. With Toji. Helping him cook. Goodbye!”

Nozomi’s eyes go wide, “Ami!—“

Her sister makes an incredulous noise, silencing her before she walks away. She wants to throw a tantrum. Fuck.

After showering, she was now fully dressed in a gray long sleeve that hugged her upper body, matching sweats and her house slippers that wouldn’t ache her feet like her regular shoes did. Her braids were held up by a claw clip, no makeup residual on her face as she pressed her glasses up along her nose. She’d put in her contacts eventually. She was hoping that she would enter the kitchen first, but as she saw Toji standing there in a black wife beater and sweats, silver jewelry clinking along his wrist, she held her breath. She held back the roll in her eyes as she scanned the countertop to see all the prepped food, not knowing where to start. Maybe this was the time to speak. 

Thankfully, she can hear his deep, gruff voice as she seems to be on the phone, speaking in Japanese. She understood most of it, but she didn’t care enough to listen to what he had to say. She took that as her opportunity to scan over the small box in the middle of the island, holding what looked to be the recipe for dinner tonight.

Toji’s eyes were on her the moment she entered the room, watching her movements as she took her time scanning the countertop, analyzing the ingredients and prepped food in front of her. He could admit, she looked as attractive as she did the first day he met her. Her skin was still smooth, hair braided up, tattoos exposed for him to admire beneath the gray clothing she adorned. Her glasses perched on her nose, making her look naturally sexy. Damn her.

She frowns down at the recipes, realizing how familiar they sound. She takes this moment to finally speak to him, never looking up from the counter as she asks, “Did Ami give these to you?”

He was surprised she'd actually spoken, even if it was to acknowledge the recipe, and not him. His eyes scanned her, noting the way her body looked in her current clothing, and how she was still somehow just as attractive in something as simple as sweats.

“Yeah, she did.”

“I’m assuming she has you cooking everything this weekend,” she comments, eyes glancing up at him.

Toji lets out a huff, and his deep voice responds to her question, “Not everything, but I am cooking.” 

He returns her stare, gray eyes scanning her face. He could tell she was bothered just by being in the room with him, but she was holding up. 

“So what did you need help with, then?” She questions, “It looks like you have everything under control.”

Something in him became immensely irritated at how she was being. He knew that she was still upset with him, but for the sake of her sister's wedding, he hoped she would put her feelings to the side. Clearly not. 

“I’m good. You can go,” he tells her, sharpness in his tone. 

She turns to leave the kitchen, and when he sees that she’s actually leaving, he becomes pissed off. 

“You’re gonna do this bullshit all weekend?”

Nozomi halts, turning towards him with a raised eyebrow. She replies, “Call it what you want, Fushiguro.”

“What, you don’t call me Toji anymore?” He snips, a sharp tongue being one of their similarities when they annoyed each other.

“Is that what you want?” 

“I want you to stop acting like a fuckin’ child.”

That makes both her eyebrows raise as she replies with an amused huff, “Huh. A child. Well how about I get back to my playground? Kim can come assist you.”

“Stop acting like a fuckin’ brat. Don’t act like you don’t feel something from seeing me.”

“Do you think you’re a prize? What did you think? That I was gonna be happy to see you? Jump for joy? Fuck you on this countertop? Don’t be fucking stupid. Do you need help in the kitchen or not? Cause that’s really all that needs to be said between us. I was doing my sister a favor by coming in here,” she snaps, anger seeping through her that she hadn’t felt in years.

“Don’t be a smart ass. I know that you’re pissed. I get that. But the weekend has barely started, and it’s already irritating dealing with your childish bullshit.”

“Then leave me the fuck alone, Fushiguro! I was fine before you said anything to me. I’m not gonna ruin my sister's wedding by bringing my own issues with you into that. I was fine before, I will be fine.” 

When she goes to turn, she feels him lock his hand around her wrist, her other hand close enough to the kitchen counter as she warns, “My hand is seconds away from a knife. Let go of me.”

For a split moment, he wonders if she’d actually stab him. She might. He decides to test that thought and refuses to listen to her, not letting go of her wrist.

“Maybe that’ll show me that you actually give a fuck to have a conversation,” he sharply replies.

“I don’t,” she promises. 

Damn, this woman. When he goes to pull her closer, the door to the kitchen swings open, the familiar ponytail appearing that almost makes Nozomi actually want to go for the knife on the counter. Kim. If she swung forward enough, she’d slice both of them.

The sight of Kim was both a good and bad thing. It was good because the brunette would act as a buffer between the two. It was bad because it would stop him from talking to Nozomi alone, since he was unable to do so outside of the kitchen. 

Kim asks, “You guys need help? Ami told me to come assist.”

“Of course she did,” Nozomi replies, her tongue on fire, “You got it. He seems to prefer you anyway.” 

She finally snatches herself away from him, making her way out of the kitchen without saying anything else. She barely acknowledges Kim, wanting to spit on her from how pissed she was. Fuck both of them.

Toji is almost tempted to grab her wrist again and snatch her back. His eyes watch her storm out in anger, and he turns his glare to Kim, who has no idea what the hell was going on. 

She looks to Toji, blowing out a breath as she mutters, “Drama Queen,” before shaking her head, “C’mon, I’ll help you finish. I’m starving.”

Nozomi was so upset that she was shaking. She didn’t think that she would care that much about seeing him or even speaking to him, but as soon as they went back and forth, all her feelings came erupting like vomit, and she didn’t know how to deal with them. She might’ve actually hurt him had she stayed in the kitchen. When she went back into her room, she kicked her shoes off, laying within the bed as she pressed her face into the sheets. She could feel her hot tears brimming into the comforter, wishing she wouldn’t cry when she was pissed off. 

She feels as if she’s laying there for an eternity. But as she hears her door slide open, she knows it’s her older sister. 

She mutters, “Not now, Ami. Please.”

She quietly closes the door behind her and makes her way to Nozomi, lowering onto the mattress as she sits down beside her. Ami gently places a hand on her back as she speaks, her tone soft, “You alright?”

It’s like the question had something almost shatter inside of her. She wraps her arms around the pillow in front of her, digging her face into it as she cries softly, “I fucking hate him.”

“You don’t hate him.”

“I know,” she replied, voice trembling. She didn’t hate him. In fact, seeing him again, she missed him so much. Everything hit her, her doubts, her insecurities. It all stood in between him and her sister's friend. 

“I feel so stupid. I’m stupid,”  she repeats, “Crying over a nigga that dropped me because I wasn’t ready to sleep with him.” 

“That’s not what it was about, Omi’,” her sister tries to counter.

Nozomi then sits up, “Then what was it, Ami? I know it’s because she’s prettier, thinner, smarter. More money. I just—“ 

She takes in a breath, trying to wipe her red face, “I just wish it didn’t hurt that bad. That she didn’t make me feel worse about it.”

Ami’s heart hurt as her sister voiced the thoughts that had been tormenting her. The insecurities and the pain that Toji had caused. Her sister had spent two years tormenting herself as if it was her fault.  

Ami gently takes her hand to squeeze, her eyes meeting with hers firmly, “You are so so stupid if you think that’s the only reason he fell for you. You’re beautiful and intelligent and talented. He didn’t break up with you because someone was better than you. And she’s not that.” 

“Then what?” Her glossy eyes glance up at her, “How am I supposed to feel when she’s here? Being with him?”

“Toji is a man, and men are idiots. That’s the only explanation for that. Look, Kim is just here as a friend for me. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to make you upset, it was wrong what she did. I can talk to her, make sure she doesn’t make you uncomfortable. But I need you to focus on yourself. Focus on the wedding. This weekend is a celebration, alright? I don’t want you making yourself feel shitty for that idiot.”

Nozomi sighs, finally feeling herself calm down. She was right. This was one weekend and she’d never have to see him again. It was gonna be a struggle, but she was tough. She wipes her eyes as she exhales, “You don’t need to talk to her. I’m fine. Kim is always gonna be Kim. The bitch has artistic intelligence, so I know she’s making your wedding a fairytale. I want that for you. I’ll be fine. As far as Toji, I’ll…I’m okay,” she finalizes, “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna ruin your night.”

Ami shakes her head gently, a kind smile on her face as she replies, “You could never ruin my night. I’d smack you if you did. I’m happy you’re here, it means the world to me.”

She gently reaches out to give Nozomi’s shoulder a light squeeze as she adds, “Just try to enjoy yourself, alright? You don’t have to talk to Toji, but you don’t have to be rude either. I don’t want you two arguing all weekend. I’m gonna go get dinner. I can bring you a plate up?”

Nozomi shakes her head, “I’ll come eat with everyone. Just need to clean my face up. Go enjoy your food.” 

She hesitates, wrapping her arms around her sister's neck as she mutters, “Love you.”

Ami’s heart warms when she hugs her. She returns the embrace, smiling gently as she responds, “I love you too. Always.” 

When she makes it downstairs, everyone is around the table, seated along the floor as they eat and talk amongst each other. She fell back into her solitude, grateful that no one questioned her silence. She’d give a brief glance at Toji when he wasn’t looking, watching as he spoke to his best friend, laughed, joked, a bit of normalcy that she couldn’t help but miss about him. She might’ve been stubborn, but she refused to get hurt again. She also couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that they used her mother’s recipes to cook the food, an entirely different reason why she felt so down. She wouldn’t have allowed her to cry over Toji. She would’ve called him a bastard and laughed in his face.

Toji feels her eyes on him. 

Throughout the night, he finds himself occasionally stealing glances in her direction. He can’t help it, she’s right there and it’s driving him mad. She’s still so damn beautiful.

As everyone makes small talk, and Kim tells a joke to crack some laughs, Toji’s eyes remain fixated on Nozomi. Her expression remains neutral, but he can see that she’s faking a calm composure. He wished she had giggled at his jokes the way she used to, he just wanted to feel something different from her. He missed that normalcy as well.

Nozomi barely touched her food, feeling her stomach growling as she made it back to bed that night. She couldn’t sleep. If it wasn’t her thoughts running amuck, it was definitely the unfortunate muffled sounds of her sister and her fiancè…enjoying their time together. 

She stands from the bed as she slides her door open, hoping her ears would fall off as she passes by their room, making her way towards the kitchen. She passes Kim’s room as well, and when she hears that Kim also seems to be enjoying herself, accompanied by a sound of masculine grunting, she can feel her palms shaking. 

“That fucking bastard,” she mutters. 

That ruins her entire appetite. Instead of her midnight snack, it sends her right back to bed. As she goes back to her door, she notices an object on the ground. She frowns beneath the darkness, leaning down as she sees an orchid laid along the wood. She sighs, knowing her brother had probably placed it there, a habit he had with both of his sisters if he was apologetic, trying to make them feel better. She appreciated it. She took the flower in her room and closed the door, attempting to get some sleep for the rest of the night. 

When the next morning came, she was greeted downstairs by everyone. Her sister was wrapped under her fiancè’s arms as she held a coffee mug close to her face, giggling as he talked within her ear.

Kim was in the kitchen making herself tea, talking to Nozomi’s brother, while Toji was engrossed within his phone, silent in an unusual manner. 

She rubbed her eyes as she tiredly greeted everyone, “Morning.”

Everyone replied with their own greeting, smiles and kind words exchanged between the group. Well, except for Toji, who was uncharacteristically silent.

He slowly looked up, his eyes locked on her as a pang of irritation spiked through him. She was wearing a tank top paired with tight boy shorts. Toji couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way her skin was on display, or the way her shorts hugged her hips. He was forced to look away, his jaw tense as he silently stared out the window instead.

“How’d you sleep?” Ami asks, “Want me to make you some tea?”

Nozomi shakes her head, “Slept okay. On account of you two love birds, y’all make me absolutely sick.”

“Nah, for real. Imma’ have to bleach my ears,” her brother pipes in, both older siblings once again throwing middle fingers to each other. 

“Oh, fuck off. This is my weekend! And this is my man, my man, my man!” 

Everyone laughs her off, knowing how in love she was with her fiancè. They couldn’t admit it, but it was adorable. 

Ami takes a sip of her tea as she says, “So, what’s on everyone’s agenda before the rehearsal dinner tonight?”

“I’m gonna head to the restaurant that’s catering the wedding, make sure your menus are just the way you wanted them and the food is perfect, beautiful bride,” Kim tells her, nudging her friend's leg with a smile. 

Nozomi figured that as the maid of honor these things would be her job, but if Kim wanted to kiss her sister's ass, she wasn’t going to stop her. 

“Imma’ go with her, it’ll give me a chance to get out of the house,” Isamu adds. 

“Great. We’ll be checking out the venue one more time, making sure they decorated it just how I imagined it—and from all the pictures I framed off Pinterest. If not, I will be going bridezilla on they ass. Anyways, my crew, rolling out!” 

As everyone disperses from the seating area, Nozomi notices as Toji is still there, interest deep within his phone. At least, pretending to be. She can’t read him. However, she can stare at him. The way he looks within this onyx wife-beater, she could lick him. The ink on his skin swirls along his arm, broad frame nearly wanting to break the small chair he sits in. 

Her attention is pulled away when she hears him ask, “You’ going out today?”

She blinks, “Huh?” 

Toji didn’t miss anything. He saw her staring from his peripheral, watching the way her eyes had roamed all along him. 

His eyes were locked on her now as he repeated, “I asked if you were going out today.”

“Oh, uh—“ she thinks about it, hearing her stomach deeply grumbling. She realized she hadn't had a full meal since she got on the flight to Japan. 

“Yeah—Imma’ head to this little restaurant my mom used to take us to,” she briefly replies, proud of herself for being cordial enough, especially after last night. At this point, she didn’t give a fuck about what he had going on. 

“Oishii?” he asks. 

She narrows her eyes a bit, “Yeah. How’d you know?” 

“Isamu mentioned it. I told him that place burnt down a couple months after your mom passed.”

“What?” She exclaims, “What the hell? Fuck, who was gonna tell me? That was the only place I really enjoyed.”

Toji can’t help but smirk at the surprise she expressed. He replies, “Been closed up for a while now,” with a shrug, “Damn shame. It was good.” 

He leans back, Nozomi knocking her eyes down as he spreads his knees, seated in a position he usually relaxed in if he wanted her to sit on his lap. It made her throat dry. 

“There’s other places to choose from. I know one. I’ll take you there.” 

She shakes her head, “That’s not necessary—“

“Get dressed.” 

His word was his bond, it always made her clutch her lips together. He was already standing, already walking away. He was never asking. With that, she pressed her lips together, a small groan falling from her mouth as she made her way back to her bedroom to put on some clothes.

He sat within his room for a while as he waited for her, knowing she would be a minute as she did her full routine. It annoyed him that he remembered that. 

He eventually stood across the door from her room, knowing she’d be out soon. When she opened it, she flew past him to get a look at herself in the full body mirror down the hall. She adjusted the tightly fitted yellow sundress she wore, a matching headband that pulled her braids out of her face, edges perfectly sculpted. She wore her contacts today, able to see the eyes that she carried from her father. She looked more stunning each time he saw her. 

She looked up to him as she pulled her white sandals on her feet, going back into the room for her purse as her soft voice asked, “Ready?”

Toji could have eaten her in this outfit, watching as she walked past him, catching her body in the mirror as she turned. The dress hugged her curves perfectly, showing off each and every bit of her he ached to touch. 

He nods in response, his voice low as he replies, “Let’s go.”

It wasn’t as cold as it usually was in Kyoto, the weather perfect for a wedding. She enjoyed being able to walk rather than drive everywhere, needing a car back in the states. Their walk was quiet, Nozomi enjoying the trees, nature, the colorful buildings. She walks beside him for a while, watching as the cars bustle on the street beside her. 

“Uh…do you know where we’re going?” She questions him, looking to the side of herself.

Toji’s own gaze was also fixated, watching her from the corner of his eye, studying the small habits he missed, the way she observed her surroundings so intently. The way her ass looked in this dress. His hands remained in his pockets, her question earning a glance as he looked down at her.

“You askin’ if I’m taking you to some secluded area where I’m gonna’ chop you up or something?” 

His voice is low in humor, a smirk on his lips as he continues to guide her. “Be patient.”

She sighs, crossing her arms behind herself as she holds her purse in her hand, “I don’t like surprises.”

“I know that, Nozomi.” 

“I would hope the food at this place is good, my mom was picky, so it makes me picky. What if it’s nasty? I’m hungry. I’ll be sad if it’s gross,” she banters.

“You’re whining a lot today, I see.” 

“I’m just curious,” she shrugs, “Fine. I’ll shut up.” 

Toji’s eyes narrow as he notices the way cars fly past as she continues on the sidewalk, something in him annoyed with how quickly they drive by. 

“Don’t. Keep talking to me,” he says, his movement swift as he grips her by her hip, gently pulling her on the inside of the sidewalk as he now walks where the cars pass, “You’ still working on your Japanese?” 

The movement was so quick that the chill down her spine was even quicker, her entire body tingling at his rough touch. 

She nearly loses focus of his question as she swallows, “Um—still pretty shit at it, actually.”

“You’re not trying enough,” his tone low, “‘Can’t speak the language but you’ve lived here. You are Japanese.” 

“Half,” she reminds, “My dad always said that I didn’t ‘look the part’ anyways. Ami always fit for him, her Japanese is award worthy.”

“I’m not talking about looks,” he mutters, rolling his eyes, “I’m talking about heritage. You’re still half, that means something. Your father should have been proud to know you speak his language. It’s annoying hearing you struggle.”

“Then how about you teach me, Mr. I know Everything? I understand you perfectly fine! That should count for something,” she begins to walk a little faster, hips twisting as she becomes slightly agitated with him.

Toji follows after her, his own stride matching as he easily keeps up. He scoffs, shaking his head at her words as he replies, “You don’t understand half the shit I tell you. You’ make this face when you’re confused, it’s cute.”

“Whatever,” Nozomi mutters, now actually irritated.

 As they continue to walk, she notices a small boutique, the dark purple font on the sign above bringing her instant nostalgia. She gasps, “Oh my god, this is the boutique my mom used to take me and Ami too! I can’t believe it’s still here…” 

She can’t help it, but she’s already pulling on the door handle, making her way inside in full curiosity.

Upon entering, she’s met with various traditional kimonos and dresses, a familiar scent filling her senses. Toji is immediately behind her, observing the entire shop as she takes it in. He can already tell that the nostalgia is overwhelming, watching as she walks around the place, her hands gently touching some of the dresses.

She looks along the wall of the shop, seeing all the Sanrio theme plushies and characters, blossoming different colors within her eyes. She felt like a child all over again. She nearly gives herself an asthma attack when she sees a particular plushie—she thought she was gonna faint. 

“Holy shit,” she mutters, pointing upwards, “You see that one? This is a Hello Kitty collectible,” she describes. His eyes follow up to what looks to be a toffee complexioned Hello Kitty, wearing a pink and red Kimono, a matching pink flower within its head. It was the biggest one of all, nearly as big as Nozomi’s entire body. 

“I literally cried all day because my mom wouldn’t buy it for me. She refused because Ami wanted one that looked like her, and because they didn’t have a collectible in her skin tone, my mom didn’t want her to feel left out. So neither of us got anything. The fact that it’s still here is insane.” 

She comes close to it, trying to squint at the price tag on its side as she mutters, “Wonder how much it is…”

“Wanna ask?” Toji questions. 

She turns with a frown, “I can ask, thank you.” 

She surprises him a bit as her tone changes, inquiring the price of the plushie as she asks within his native tongue. He couldn’t understand what she meant when she said her Japanese was shit, she sounded incredibly normal to him. Sexy, even. He wanted to hear her speak it again. 

She blinks as the woman responds, looking to Toji as she repeats back in English, “Thirty-Eight thousand yen? What is that in American dollars?”

“Shit is like three hundred dollars,” Toji replies back to her, watching as her jaw nearly drops.

“Oh hell, I don’t want it that bad,” she sighs, “Ugh. It’s so cute. My pockets will cry. Oh well.” 

She says thank you to the woman, “Let me look at these dresses for a second, then we can go,” her shoulders are a bit more slump as she searches the rest of the store, almost feeling defeated. 

As she continued to look around, her attention was along a dark brown Kimono, a pair of colors she’d never seen before. She doesn’t hear Toji speak to the woman, pointing towards the wall of plushies. She only ever realizes what he’s doing when the woman pulls down the large collectible she wanted, bringing it to the register. 

“What are you doing?” She questions from the other side of the store, nearly tripping as she makes her way back to him.

Toji can tell by her expression that she had completely given up on the possibility of leaving with that stupid doll. It was endearing, seeing the disappointment in her eyes. 

“Buying this stupid ass doll.”

He begins reaching for his wallet, pulling the wad of cash out as her eyes widen, placing her hand over his to stop him as she awkwardly speaks towards the woman, telling her not to worry about it, “No, you are not buying me that.”

Toji glances over at her as she speaks, smacking his lips at her. The woman behind the cash register pauses for a moment, looking between the two of them. 

“Didn’t you just want this shit two seconds ago?” 

Nozomi’s eyebrows furrow, “Yes—“

“So shut up.” 

When she goes to protest, the look he gives her makes her hands halt, pressing her lips together as she puts her hands behind her back. 

The older lady giggles, Nozomi understanding her as she asks if she wants a gift bag. Toji shakes his head, “She’ll hold it.” 

When he looks back to see her still standing with a perplexed expression, still shocked that he even bought it, he snaps her out of her trance as he says, “Take the damn doll from her before I choke you with it.” 

She smacks her lips now, politely thanking the woman as she has to wrap both arms around the plushie, it being a little heavy. She doesn’t know how to feel, but as he grumpily waits for the receipt, a small smile comes to her face.

When they make it to the restaurant, the lights on the streets begin to come on, the buildings and billboards bright to her eyes. She missed this feeling, almost like a child feeling Christmas air. Her plushie sits beside her in its own individual chair, Toji sitting across from her as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket, swiftly igniting it as they wait for someone to take their order. Nozomi looks down at the menu, not sure where to take the conversation. 

They’d been getting along, it was no harm in that. She couldn’t be a bitch after he spent three-hundred dollars on something she’d always wanted. 

She exhales as she looks around the crowded restaurant, looking back to him as she begins, “So…do you still live in the states, or did you move back here?”

Toji’s dark eyes remained on her while she looked around at the restaurant, his gaze always observant. He noticed how her eyes seemed to brighten at the view outside, how her mood completely changed after getting her silly doll. 

He takes a puff of his cigarette before replying, “Moved back home. Got sick of it.” 

“Sick of it? I thought you liked New York. I thought you enjoyed being a body-guard, kicking people's asses and getting paid for it,” she mentions, giving a polite smile to the man that hands her the drink she ordered.

Toji’s eyes follow her polite smile before watching her take a sip, replying as he rests an arm lazily along the back of the booth. 

“I did enjoy it. I just don’t like the people out there. New Yorkers are a pain in the ass,” he scoffs before puffing his cigarette again, continuing, “Why do it there when I can kick people's asses here and still get paid for it?”

That makes a small laugh come from her, something he hadn’t heard in a long time. She crosses her leg, leaning back within the seat as she questions, “When did you and Suguru become so close?” 

Toji’s eyes watch her body shift, taking another pull from his cigarette as her question registers in his head. 

“I’ve known the bastard since high school, but we got closer once I moved back. I thought it was funny he fell in love with your other half,” he pauses, looking at her with a smirk, “He’s a big ass softie now. Whipped, even.”

That makes her eyebrow raise, “So your perception of someone in love is being whipped, huh? Makes sense.”

Toji narrows his eyes at her snarky response, taking a moment to reply, “You’ still need me to choke you with your friend over there? I hope she isn’t ordering too, I’m good on money, but that’s pushing it.” 

She rolls her eyes as he adds with a serious tone, “And I didn’t say that. A man should respect his woman, I’ve just never seen him this way.”

“Well I think it’s adorable. Love should be all mushy and gross, that’s how you know it’s genuine. Makes me wonder what I’m doing wrong,” she admits, swirling her straw around in her cup, “I’m really happy for her.”

Toji’s expression doesn’t change as she responds, his cigarette hanging idly between his lips as his arm is still resting along the booth. 

He looks at her, really looks at her, a thought coming to his mind as he suddenly responds, “You’re not doing anything wrong.” 

He pauses, taking another pull before he changes the subject, “You spoke to your dad?”

That question almost startles her brain. She thought for a second that she could forget he’d be at the rehearsal dinner. She hadn’t seen him in two years. She kneels into the menu as she tries to deflect, “How do I tell the waiter I want this?”

Toji sees right through her, knowing exactly what she’s trying to do. He’s observant of a lot of her tendencies. He knows she’s avoiding talking about her father, and knows that she’s trying to forget. 

He’s not going to let her. 

“Show me what you want,” he mutters gruffly, nodding to the menu in her hand.

“Mmm, maybe I’ll just get ramen,” she tries to distract him. 

He eyes her as he suggests, “You can try the Sashimi.”

She scrunches up her nose, “I don’t think I’m in the mood for raw fish. No thank you.”

“You eat sushi all the time, baby. The fish is just cut differently,” he explains, ignoring the way she rolls her eyes.

He puffs his cigarette before speaking again, “Stop avoiding the subject and answer my question. Did you call him yet?”

She pulls back, letting him have the menu as she says, “I’ll see him at the rehearsal dinner. No need to call.”

“Bullshit,” he mutters, tossing the menu to the side, “He’s your father, of course you should call him.” Toji puts out his cigarette, now giving her his full attention.

“Oh hell, here you go with your family matters bullshit. I don’t need a therapy session. You don’t talk to your family either, Fushiguro,” she points out.

Toji’s expression drops at her mention of his family, something shifting in his eyes now. 

“Not the same thing, you know that.”

“Maybe,” she shrugs, “What am I supposed to say? Hey, thanks for cheating on my mom while she was sick, and then only being there to agree on pulling the plug on her? How’s your new bitch? Oh, did you figure out a tie for the wedding?” She tilts her head, sarcasm laced in her voice.

“Maybe say all that shit, it’s better than nothing. He still loves you.”

“Yeah, because I’m his daughter. Plus—it’s not my wedding, Dr. Phil.  It’s Ami’s and he loves her to death. Would do anything for her, she’s always been Daddy’s little girl,” she flatly says, “This isn’t about me.”

He shakes his head as he begins, “You don’t have to take the backseat to everything or be a doormat all the time. This is about you.” 

He moves closer, “It doesn’t matter who’s getting married. He’s your family, too. You think he doesn’t notice that you avoid him?”

“The phone is a two way street, if he wanted to speak to me that badly, he would’ve,” she crosses her arms over her chest, becoming uncomfortable with the conversation.

“Yeah, it’s a two way street. So why haven’t you called him in the entire two years? It goes both ways.”

“Because he hasn’t called me.” 

“So it’s a competition now?” 

“Fushiguro,” she warns.

Toji continues to glare her down, not backing off. 

“It’s not a competition. I’m just trying to understand your logic, or lack of,” he explains, “You keep saying the phone is a two way street. You haven’t called him either, but are pissed at him for not calling you, shit is ass-backwards.”

Her leg begins shaking beneath the table, not necessarily upset with him. The overall topic has her frustrated. Her attention is drawn back to him when Toji sees the tension in her movements, knowing that his persistent questions have stressed her. He grips her ankle gently to stop her from moving, his large hand wrapping completely around it as he places her leg on his lap. 

“All I’m trying to say is you should talk to him,” he says again, the firmness in his voice fading.

When she realizes that she’s only making herself upset, she stops. She had to face her father, and it would be happening tonight. It didn’t have to be a bad interaction, she just wished he never made the decisions he did.

 She looks down at the table as she then admits, “I love my father. But I hate what he did to our family.”

A small silence comes between them, his hand still loosely holding her ankle. 

“You don’t have to forgive him,” he finally says, “But don’t forget that he loves you. Even with his shitty decisions.”

She looks up at him, realizing his sincerity. The silence is filled as the waitress comes back, sitting down her bowl of ramen, also sitting down a plate of perfectly placed fish—raw, as she mentioned she didn’t like. 

Her arms are still holding onto her chest, realizing that for the sake of this weekend, maybe she needed to make a change. She sits up as she reaches for the chopsticks, dipping a piece of the fish into the soy sauce and popping it into her mouth. She chewed for a moment before tilting her head, “Seems like you don’t always have bad taste.”

He’s glad that she was able to open up a little bit, to talk about her family. As annoying as it was, he was beginning to worry about how she would deal with tonight. 

“See? If you weren’t so hard headed, shit would be much easier for you.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Stop talking to me.”

“Want me to feed you?—“ 

“Not too much, Fushiguro. I’m being nice to your ass right now.” 

“My bad.” 

She was afraid that their time together would be awkward, but it was the complete opposite. It was extremely natural, maybe even a little romantic. It was unfortunately creating that flipping feeling in her stomach. The one she felt if he even spoke to her, catered to her, adorned her—made her feel like she was his again. She pushed down that rush of emotions as they exited the restaurant, seeing the text from Isamu on Toji’s phone to let them know they needed to be on time to the rehearsal dinner. 

“Shit,” she mutters, “We might be late. Is there a quicker way to get back to our place from here?”

“Down this hill,” he refers, holding the large plushie in his own arm as she was too tired to carry it. 

As they continue walking, she realizes he refers to the road with a large downward path as a “hill,” and it makes her laugh to herself.

As they begin making their way down the lit up street, something within her feels giddy, and she can’t help herself. 

“Race you!” 

She’s already beelining down the road. Her body zigzags on the street as she takes off. She knew there was a small competitive bone in his body, no words as she heard his footsteps already booming behind her. Nozomi shrieks into giggles as he grips her up by her bottom half, throwing her over his shoulder as he continues running. 

She was happy and laughing, a sound he enjoyed hearing. He never wanted it to stop.

When he slowed down and was now walking, she huffed over his shoulder as she strained, “I guess this is better than walking,” gripping for her plushie to hold within the air.

Toji chuckled to himself as he felt her squirm in his hold, holding her tight so she wouldn’t fall, “You’re just upset that I always win,” he muttered with a grin, feeling her arms reaching for the plushie, pulling her up a bit so she could hold it.

Her eyes take sight of the city, another pang to her heart. She missed it here. It brought back so many memories within her childhood. Her eyes halt as she catches sight of a bridge farther down, patting his back as she says, “Hold on,” feeling as he places her down. 

She fixes her dress and hair as she catches her breath, looking over the bridge as she sees a rare sight—A cherry blossom tree. 

“They’re so pretty at night,” she sighs, “I’d kill for these in the states.”

Toji watches her as she takes in the scenery, now standing beside her. 

“I didn’t realize how much you missed Japan.” 

He looks out over the river, agreeing with her statement, “Yeah… shit is nice to look at, always has been.” 

It was then that Toji seen her shiver, his eyes glancing down as she attempted to cover her arms. 

“You cold?”

“I didn’t realize it’d be cold tonight, it was pretty warm earlier,” she says, a shiver exhaling from her mouth, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, no. You’re not.” 

Toji slips off his leather jacket, placing it around her shoulders as he murmurs, “Stubborn ass.”

She huffs out a laugh, seeing her warm breath in the air. She’s now turned towards him as he pulls the jacket to cover her body, her head tilted up to stare in his face, his frame hovering over hers. It was at this moment that she saw him—she hadn’t looked at him this way in a while.

He meets her gaze, his face much closer to hers than just a few seconds prior. The air between them has changed, the shift is palpable. Toji watches as she shudders again, the movement making her body press closer against him. The sight makes him feel protective.

“Toji, I—“

“I’m sorry.” 

She frowns, her eyebrows coming over her eyes as she’s confused. Her stomach tumbled at his sudden apology, and she wanted to beg that it wasn’t for their past. 

“I fucked up, Nozomi. I should’ve never hurt you the way I did.” 

This is the conversation she’d been avoiding. Her throat tightens. 

“Toji…”

Toji sees the mix of emotions in her expression, his own heart feeling heavy as he continues to look in her eyes. 

“I was a dumbass. I know that. I never should have—“ he pauses, feeling his throat constrict from the emotions now bubbling up, “Never should have done what I did, and I know my actions will never undo the pain I caused.” He sighs, voice lowering, “I just need you to know that you mean a lot to me. That never changed.”

She’s unsure of how to feel. He was always too stoic for his own good, never able to say his feelings, and here he was—completely transparent and vulnerable. She couldn’t keep fighting how she felt. She missed him. She wanted to forgive him. 

Toji’s phone then buzzes. Her eyes lowered to see KIM appear on the screen. The message read, ‘Where are you? Hurry back for dinner! It’s boring here without you.’

That was the icing on the cake. It brought back the anger she felt, why she was pissed with him in the first place. All her emotions went sinking into the back of her mind. 

She gives a humorless laugh, removing his jacket and handing it to him as she says, “That must’ve meant something to you too,” referring to his text. 

She begins walking, regardless of how cold she is, “C’mon. They’re looking for us.”

He frowns as her attitude takes a 180 turn, the moment of vulnerability gone as she hands him back his jacket.  Fuck. 

“Nozomi—“

But it’s too late, she’s already walking farther into the night. That was the end of the conversation. For now, at least.

When they arrive back at the house, she feels completely empty. The moment she opened up to him, possibly ready to have a conversation and move forward, it was all ruined. She didn’t know who to blame. Her stubbornness, his idiocy, or the bitch her sister called a friend. She was trying to keep it cute, but even this was too cute for her. 

Her look for the night was more simple this time, a halter top dress, doing her makeup softer than she usually would, her sister requesting her bridal party wear white. Her golden heels with white orchids along the top, braids swimming down to her lower back—feeling pretty might’ve made her feel better for the night to come. 

She came downstairs with everyone else, more to herself this time, especially when she saw Kim talking to Toji in the corner. His black button up was similar to her brothers, silver watch along his wrist and chain matching the jewelry he wore along his neck. 

Her attention was caught by her sister who pulled her arm for her attention as she asked, “You were damn near late, where have you been?” 

“I was just running errands, I’m sorry.”

Ami looks her up and down, “You missed the fitting for your dress. Kim has been calling you all day!”

“What?” She frowns, “I never got any calls from Kim. Why didn’t you just call me?”

“I didn’t have my phone on me, I was fitting for my dress too. It’s fine, let’s just hope you fit your dress.” 

She knew Ami, seeing she was trying not to be upset. But she knew she was. Her eyes flicked over to Kim, and she thought about ripping her dress off and choking her with it.

Everyone made their way into the limousine as they arrived at the rehearsal dinner, and just as they pulled in front did Nozomi realize something— her father was here.

She couldn’t focus. Although the venue was gorgeous and looked like something you’d see in a movie, her palms began to sweat. Most of Suguru’s family had already arrived, her side of the family there as well. She greeted everyone with absentminded hugs and cheek kisses. 

The usual conversations, ‘I’m sorry to hear about your mom’, ‘Why aren’t you married yet?’, ‘You and your sister look nothing alike,’ ‘You sure you both have the same father?’. It was unbearable, but she was used to it.

When she got down to the final family member, that’s when she saw…him. 

A traditional man, stoic and frightening, the only smile she’d ever seen on his face was if he saw her sister, or her mom, but he was different when it came to her. She follows behind Ami as she hears her sister call him, ‘Otosan’ an affectionate term, bowing respectfully. She then says, “Hi, Pa. I missed you,” pulling him into a hug.

He holds Ami to his chest, giving her a tight squeeze. 

“I missed you too, my love.”

He releases her gently, his eyes shifting over to Nozomi as she stands beside her sister. He looks her up and down for a moment, studying her appearance. This was the moment of truth. 

“Nozomi,” he says, “You look beautiful as ever.”  He holds his arms out, asking for a hug.

She doesn’t expect him to be happy to see her, nor was he an affectionate man. They hadn’t spoken in two years. She bows first as before she greets, “Hi, Pa,” taking in his hug, wrapping herself around him tighter than she thought she would.

He wraps his arms tightly around her shoulders, and it feels… strange.

“My sweet girl…” 

He sighs lowly, “Too beautiful for your own good. Still not married? You know the family is getting worried…”

“Pa,�� she brushes off, “I’m fine. This is Ami’s day, we can talk about my loneliness later.”

He laughs, feeling the familiarity. It was like nothing had changed. 

“You’re still stubborn as ever, I see.” 

He pats her back before releasing her, looking her up and down once more. 

“You’ve grown more, you look… different,” he says, “Just like your mother.”

The sentence made her heart ache, and she immediately felt tears wanting to brim her eyes. She quickly blinks them away, humming in response. The sweet moment is vastly interrupted as a woman appears. She was smaller in frame between her and her sister, but was definitely older in age. 

She bows affectionately to them as she greets, “It’s nice to formally meet you, Nozomi. Your father has told me so much about you.”

Nozomi holds back her frown, “Uh—nice to meet you as well, and you are?”

“This is Yua,” her father says, smiling from ear to ear, “My wife.” 

Nozomi blinks, “Oh…wife. You got married two years later…” she stopped herself, it wasn’t the time. Her sister clutched her arm to also shut her up. 

She looks at the woman, “It’s nice to meet you, Yua. I’m gonna go find my seat.”

Yua smiles kindly, a sweet tone in her voice, “Oh of course, enjoy yourself tonight.” 

One thing about her father—and maybe where she got it from—he wasn’t afraid to talk shit about anybody, including his own daughter. 

Her father clears his throat once Nozomi is walking away, sighing out, “That girl still has a mouth on her.” 

“You can’t blame her,” Yua says, looking up at him, “She’s probably still hurt.”

“She’s twenty-seven, it’s time for her to stop pouting like a child.”

She hears the small banter between the two, clutching her fist as she sits next to her Isamu at a round table that’s also accompanied by Kim, and Toji. The interaction between her and her father didn’t go entirely bad, but the comments he made still showed who he was, and now sitting close to Kim and Toji, this night still didn’t feel too good.

As soon as Toji notices her at the table, his eyes are glued to her. 

He had never realized how stubborn she really was. 

That was probably one of the reasons why he liked her so much.

“You okay?” Her brother asks. 

She looks up at him, “Yeah, fine.” 

“I saw you talked to dad.” 

She blinks, “Yeah. I did.”

The night is filled with conversations and laughs, Toji watching as Nozomi becomes more and more irritated. 

This rehearsal was becoming a little too much for her as time continued to pass. She felt like this dinner wouldn’t end, her attention coming along Kim who stood at the stage, clinking a small silverware against her champagne glass.

All eyes turned to her, the table quiet as Kim began to speak, “Thank you all for coming out tonight!”

The room responds with applause, everyone anticipating her speech. Kim smiles sweetly— the type that looks fake to Nozomi, but was entirely convincing to everyone else. 

She smiles, “I just wanted to give a little speech for the couple. The love they share started the moment they looked at each other, and they’ve been an unbreakable pair ever since.” 

The entire room is silent, everyone listening to her every word. Toji could see the anger in Nozomi’s face, her eyes almost burning a hole in Kim’s existence.

“I’m so honored to create the dream that you’ve always wanted, your perfect wedding. And as the woman closest to you,” she looked directly at Nozomi, “I’m so happy to call you my sister.” 

Nozomi thrashes her tongue within her cheek, listening as everyone claps, looking over to her sister's table as she gives a smile, which pisses her off even more.

When the speech is over, she stands from the table as she holds her dress up, going over to the open bar they had as she requested, “Got anything brown?”

The bartender nods, “Certainly. What kind?” 

He makes her a vanilla crown and Coke as requested.  She takes it like a shot. The moment she feels at ease when the drink pours down her throat, it’s like a cloud begins to shadow her sun, and here she is standing in front of her—Kim.

“Are you having fun? You barely talked to anyone tonight,” she feigns a frown, “What’s the matter?” 

She leans against the bar, her elbow perched on the counter top.

“I’m fine, Kim,” she brushes off, not ready for her bullshit. But as she takes the last sip of her drink, she has another thought, “Actually, my sister said there was a fitting for everyone’s dress today. Why wasn’t I told about that?”

Kim’s eyes widened faintly, a playful chuckle rolling off her tongue, “Oh, that?” 

She taps her manicured nails against the top of the counter, shrugging as she does so. 

“I must’ve forgotten to tell you,” she grins, “My bad.”

“Of course you did. You’re good at that little thing you do. Being all cute, acting like you’re not an insolent bitch on the inside. Maybe on the outside,” she tilts her head, giving her the same grin in return, watching as her face fell at her words.

She’s startled a bit at Nozomi’s truth. She thinks quickly on her feet as she takes a step forward, “I think the drink is going to your head, love.”

“Maybe. You should order something for yourself as well! But I suggest you wait until I walk away, cause my hand holding this glass is feeling a little itchy, and you might have a headache further into the night.” 

When she expects Kim to simply go back and forth with her, she suddenly shouts, “You’re gonna do what to me?” 

The calculated bitch, she was purposely causing a scene.

Ami, Toji and her brother came running over as Ami questioned, “What’s going on?” 

“Nozomi just threatened to hit me over the head with a glass! I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you’re scaring me!” Kim presses her hand to her chest, Oscar worthy acting as her hand shakes. 

“What?” Ami looks at Nozomi, “Did you say that?” 

“No!” Nozomi defends, “Well, yes. But not for no reason!”

“Nozomi, what the hell?” Her brother says, “What is going on? Why are you threatening Kim?”

“This bitch just said that she purposely didn’t call me for our dress fitting today!” She exclaims. 

“I would never do that,” Kim defends herself, “I called you a thousand times. You just didn’t answer. I’m sorry, Nozomi.”

“Are you serious?” She blinks, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you—“ she goes forward, Isamu stepping in front of her. 

Ami then cuts off,  “Enough, Nozomi. I have been trying to be patient with you since you got here, but this is too much! Doing this at my rehearsal dinner? Making a scene? What the hell is wrong with you?” 

“What the hell is wrong with me? Ask your fucking friend that! Oh, better yet, your new sister! You’re seriously gonna’ blame me for this? When am I ever gonna be taken seriously, and not some fucking drama Queen?”

Everyone in the area is shocked by the commotion, the guests at the rehearsal dinner turning and whispering from their seats.

Ami’s face contorts with anger, “I always take you seriously, but look at what you’re doing right now! I’m constantly at your defense! But you’re acting like a fucking child!”

That.  

It always led back to her being the youngest. Nozomi laughed sharply, “Great. I’m a child. I’m over here pulling myself together on account of your goddamn wedding. Forcing me to be cool with your idiotic ass friend who fucked my man, and is still fucking him to this day! Not only that, forcing me to be here with him! The one who fucked your idiotic ass friend in the first fucking place, because I wouldn’t fuck him! Making me be cordial with my father who I wasn’t ready to forgive, because he fucked his new bitch behind our dying mother’s back—I’m doing all this for you! I’m holding it together for you! And I’m a fucking child? How about you wanting everything your way, but pissed off the minute something goes wrong? That’s a fucking child!” 

“What?” Toji then comes in, “‘The fuck are you talking about?” 

“Don’t be dense. I heard you fucking her the first night I came!” 

Toji blinks, confusion not even the word. His eyes narrow as he says, “I didn’t fuck Kim. This is my first time seeing her since you mom’s funeral, and since I left the states. I left right after you broke shit off with me.” 

Nozomi blinks, now equally confused. 

“What?” 

Isamu then smacks his lips, “Jesus,” chiming in to clear the air, “I was fucking Kim, okay? Toji and her only fucked around that one time.” 

That makes everyone’s eyes bulge out—including Kim’s—now realizing that this was all one big misunderstanding. 

“You’re fucking Kim? Ew!” Nozomi starts, “Seriously? Jesus Christ. When the fuck did you even have time to leave that orchid at my door?” 

“I left that orchid at your door,” Toji then clarifies, “It was supposed to be an apology. I wanted to talk to you, but you stormed back into your room and I didn’t want to piss you off more.” 

Nozomi takes all of this in. She doesn’t know what to say.

There wasn’t anything to say at this point, nor did she want to say anything else. With that, Nozomi does everyone a favor as she exits out of the building, finding her way back to the house. This had been a rehearsal dinner like no other. 

                       ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆

THE NEXT MORNING WAS SILENT, which was unfortunate. It was supposed to be a beautiful day, Ami’s wedding day—everyone was supposed to be excited. But it felt like the complete opposite. The morning was quiet. Nozomi had a lot on her mind, but all of her other bullshit could be figured out later—she needed to make things right with Ami. 

The house had been cleared of all the men as they had to get ready at the venue, the bridal party now on their way to the house, Ami within her room as the makeup artist was also on the way. 

Nozomi quietly slid the door open to her room as she asked, “Can I come in?”

Ami glanced over at the door, a frown on her face, still upset from the previous night. She sighs before nodding softly, “Yeah, you can come in…”

She slides the door closed, standing along the wall. She tries to collect her thoughts, her words. Instead of jumping into the drama, she asks, “How are you feeling? Ready to be Mrs. Getou?”

Ami smiles, her anger softening as her eyes meet her sisters. She lets out a small yawn before nodding slowly, a tired smile on her face. 

“I’m nervous…” Ami admits, “A little too nervous, honestly…”

“It’s no need to be nervous. He loves you, even if you have a crazy ass family,” she tries to poke, “Today’s gonna be an amazing day for you. It already is. It’s filled with love.”

Ami laughs, the comment causing her to snort quietly, “You’re damn right about that. But I’m still a little mad at you…”

Nozomi sighs, “Look, I’m so sorry about last night, Ami. It wasn’t supposed to go like that. I was telling the truth, Kim purposely didn’t call me for the fitting, you know I wouldn’t have missed something as important as that. When she admitted it to me, I just…mushed her being a bitch to her fucking Toji, and I kinda spiraled. You can choose who you want to be friends with, I just don’t like how she treats me,” Nozomi softly admits, looking down to the floor.

Ami sighs, her expression softening. She knew that it hadn’t been entirely her sister's fault, even though she had been the one to cause the scene in the first place. 

“Listen, I’m not mad at you, okay? I wasn’t ever mad at you, I just hate how you never think anything through before doing it. You’ve always been that way, and you need to work on it.” 

Ami stands from the bed, walking over to Nozomi, wrapping her into a tight hug, “I love you, okay?”

“More than Kim?” She questions, trying to make another joke, “I really don’t like that hoe, seriously.”

A soft laugh tumbles from Ami’s lips, a snort following that, “Yes, more than Kim.” 

She pinches her sister's cheek, pulling her head back, “You gotta’ relax, okay? Today is my day, so keep your cool, yeah?”

“Scouts honor,” Nozomi promises, raising her hand up, “I don’t know why you didn’t just make Kim your maid of honor, no shade.”

Ami laughed, “Oh hell no. I want you to be part of the special moment,” She crosses her arms, “She can just stand over there and look pretty like every other bridesmaid.”

Nozomi rolls her eyes, “Yeah. Like a Disney villain.”

“Sidebar—where did you go yesterday?” Her sister then asks. 

Dammit. She was hoping she wouldn’t ask this question. She closes her eyes as she admits, “Don’t freak out. I went out with Toji—“

The squeal was already releasing from her lips, “Oh my god! Y’all are in love again! Wedding bells, are those wedding bells I hear?” 

“Ami.”

“Oh my goodness, he bought you that big ass plushie in your room! That’s the one you wanted mom to get you! I knew your frugal ass didn’t pay thirty-eight thousand yen for that!” 

“Ami.—“ 

“And he gave you an orchid to apologize, cause you love orchids! Oh my god, I’m gushing. I’m blushing!” 

“Jesus Christ, are you done?” Nozomi squints, “It was nothing. He probably thinks I’m crazy now after I accused him of fucking Kim again. But what else was I supposed to think? I probably just fucked everything up.”

Ami rolls her eyes, grabbing Nozomi’s shoulders, her gaze firm as she says, “Listen. You did not mess everything up. If he loved you then, he probably loves you even more now. You just need to apologize to him…after the wedding. Don’t make it about you, okay? Focus on the love we’re all sharing today, alright?”

She nods her head, “Got it.”

Ami smiles, bringing Nozomi into another tight hug, “Good, now go get your hair and makeup done, the artists will be here in an hour, and you’ve gotta’ look the best you can today, alright? You’re my maid of honor, you gotta’ look like the bottom bitch next to the head honcho!” 

“You’re a mess.”

“Not as much as you. It’s really my wedding day, eeeeek!”

They were thankful to have gotten up early, giving just enough time to do everything without feeling rushed. Nozomi of course did Ami’s hair, agreeing with her request to style it within a low bun pulled back to frame her face, sculpting her edges perfectly, adding her favorite flowers within the claw clip holding her hair together. The soft makeup along her expression brought her face out more than heavy makeup would’ve. She was gorgeous without it. Nozomi could feel a lump in her throat about to create, not sure why she suddenly felt so emotional, but she refused to cry. 

Ami’s heart swells at the sight of her sister in the mirror, her eyes softening as she hears her words. Memories of their mother flood her mind—memories of her sitting on the couch, watching her daughters put their hair in intricate styles for dance competitions, or style their hair for a wedding. She felt a pang of sadness in her chest.

Tears start to trickle down Ami’s cheeks, and she quickly wipes at her eyes. “God, don’t make me cry,” she murmurs, “I’m gonna’ ruin my makeup.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she kisses her forehead, “Don’t cry. Don’t want you choking me cause your makeup is ruined. No more tears!” She tells her, taking deep breaths with her before she continues crying.

Ami laughs through her tears, wiping at her eyes as she nods, “Okay, okay, no more tears. Don’t make me start again.” 

The makeup artist began to retouch her face. Everything was silent for a moment before Ami clears her throat, her voice soft as she says, “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?” 

“Do you love him—Toji, I mean?”

Nozomi looks up to the mirror, thinking about the question. She doesn’t lie to herself as she replies, “Yeah, I do. But he’ll never know that.”

Ami’s eyebrows furrow for a moment as she glances back at her sister, “Why not?” 

She turns her head, her eyes soft, “Why would you hold that in? After everything he’s done to show you how he feels, why not tell him?”

“Because today isn’t about me, remember? Now, let the makeup artist finish her job, you can’t keep talking while she does your lip liner,” she distracts, “I’m gonna go get ready.”

“I hate when you deflect,” Ami scrunches her nose, “Whatever. You’re dismissed!”

She began to see the bridesmaids' dresses as she exited the room, seeing that they were simple pink gowns, silky and strapless. They were gorgeous regardless, going to search for which one was hers. But as she continued to look, she noticed a dress hanging along the wall, her name attached to it. Her mouth gaped open. It was entirely different from the bridal parties dresses, the only similarity being the color. 

It was a gown, corseted all around, diamonds and jewels cascading the material all the way up to the top, fluff swimming along where her breast sat, mirroring along the side of her hip. 

“Fucking hell, Ami,” she mutters to herself. 

She didn’t have time to freak out about how extravagant this dress was—she had to get ready. 

She pulls her braids within a low ponytail to accentuate her dress, artistically sculpting her edges. It fits her entirely too well. Her hips struck out, the corset cinched her frame in a way that made her feel the most gorgeous she’d ever felt. When she looks within the mirror, all she can see is her mom. 

She exhales as she goes into the other room to show Ami, her jaw dropping at her older sibling. She’d never looked so… ethereal. 

Her dress was a pure white, covered with soft pearls that gave the illusion they dripped off her body, her entire frame equally corseted, material choking her tightly. 

“Ami,” Nozomi placed her hands over her mouth, not enough to ruin her own makeup, “Oh my goodness,” she became choked up, “You look…”

Ami smiles at her sibling, gently standing to keep her dress from being ruined. She looked down at herself, gently placing her hands along the dress, the gems and diamonds sparkling underneath the lights. 

“Good?” She asks her sister, her voice soft. 

“Amazing,” she promises, “Don’t be nervous. I’m so happy for you. Are you ready? We don’t wanna be late.”

“Let’s get going then, yeah?”

It’s now chaos when they arrive at the venue. None of them had yet to see what it looked like besides the bride and groom, the panic of getting into place leaving everything to a surprise once they walked out. The guests had already arrived, sitting within the white chairs that were covered with pink bows and flowers, wearing their own shades of her sister's favorite color. Here were the groomsmen, perfectly dressed in their tuxes, pink flowers within their breast pockets. They were ready, making sure they were perfectly lined up with the bridesmaid they were assigned to walk with. Ami was hidden within a back room, preparing to be the last one to walk out. 

Nozomi holds her dress as she speed walks out to where everyone else stands, seeing Suguru and Toji standing together. She hadn’t seen him since the chaos of the night before—she couldn’t help but not be happy to see him. Seeing Toji’s suit perfectly frame his broad physique, his best friend stands next to him, his long hair within a bun, tied out of his face. They looked handsome. 

“Ready?” She questions Suguru, “I can’t wait for you to see her. You’re not gonna cry, are you?”

Suguru smiles at the question, an almost embarrassed look on his face. However, he doesn’t deny it, “I’m most definitely going to cry.” 

Toji laughs, shaking his head, “Big ass dork.”

Suguru takes another deep breath before he stands by the door, preparing to walk out. Everyone now stands in place, and that meant it was time for Nozomi to get in position too. She turns to Toji whose eyes she can feel along her body as she asks, “What? Something wrong with my hair?”

Toji couldn’t deny that she looked incredible in that dress—more than incredible, breathtaking. Everything about her seemed to be amplified from the dress. 

She looked amazing, gorgeous, etc, etc.

“Words can’t describe how good you fuckin’ look right now,” he grunts within her ear, reaching out to grab for her hand, kissing her palm before he wraps it around his arm. 

That makes Nozomi‘s face go warm, turning her head back towards the ceremony. She watches as Suguru’s parents walk down the aisle, clicking that it was their turn. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt nervous. 

She nods, “Thank you. Um,” she twists the flower within his breast pocket, “Just—don’t let me fall, okay?”

Toji’s chuckle is attractive, still deep in her ear as he lowly promises, “Not a chance in hell.”

When he slides his arm down to clutch her fingers in his  own, their skin feels electrifying together. She hadn’t held his hand in so long—it felt so good. When they prepare to walk, she tugs his arm as she mutters, “Seriously, Fushiguro. Don’t let me fall. I’ll hurt you.”

His eyes glance down at hers as he promises, “You won’t fall, pretty.” 

They finally walk down the aisle, everyone’s eyes turning to them. The flower petals along the ground are being tread upon as they stroll down the walkway, Nozomi’s heart pounding within her chest. 

He squeezes her hand again, gently rubbing his thumb against her knuckles in an attempt to calm her. It works, but not by much, keeping her mind occupied as they walk.

She can now fully see the venue— cherry blossoms, the main event of it all. They all laid along the ground, pink trees floating above the chairs and guests, slumped down as petals swirled in the air each time the wind blew. She doesn’t realize how tightly she’s holding Toji’s hand, feeling a vast amount of emotions come to her, the sentiments of something as simple as a cherry blossom tree meaning so much more to her.

They finally make it to the end, and Toji releases her hand to go stand near Suguru, his nerves settling as he takes his place next to the groom. The music changes, signaling for the rest of the party to begin walking. Each bridesmaid and groom look perfect together—hell, even Kim and Isamu looked nice walking together.

Everyone giggled as one of Suguru’s younger cousins came tumbling down the aisle, throwing more flowers onto the ground, including a smaller baby boy, who followed after her, holding the rings close to his miniature tuxedo. 

It was finally the moment, the moment everyone had come for. When she appeared at the end of the aisle—a gasp came from the entire venue. Nozomi had already seen her, but seeing her here, holding her father’s arm as she began to walk, her veil that swam the ground, she hated the emotion that began smacking her around. It didn’t make it better that every bridesmaid was already crying—that was enough for her. The music that played, the way she could tell Ami herself was trying to hold back tears, it was the most special moment she had experienced.

Nozomi gripped the flowers in her hand, trying to stop the tears that poured like nothing. When she looked over to the groomsmen side—even they were crying, Suguru’s eyes were red as he couldn’t hold back his emotion. His best friend was of course behind him, rubbing his shoulder to comfort him. When Toji and Nozomi locked eyes, she gave a weak laugh, patting her own face to not mess up her makeup.

Toji couldn’t help but look at the way she was crying, his own eyes feeling soft as his chest felt heavy with an unknown emotion. His face felt warm, almost warm enough to make him tear up, but he tried his best to keep it down by looking away and trying to focus on the groom himself. 

However, every once in a while, his eyes would dart back towards her, admiring the way she looked in the soft lighting, the flower, the corseted dress, even her makeup. It amazed him. Seeing his best friend hold this much emotion towards a woman, it made him realize how much of a fuck up he was with Nozomi—he wanted to make things right.

The ceremony felt quicker than she expected, probably because she spent most of it crying. Everyone cheered and hollered as they kissed, cementing their love. It was now the reception, farther out into the trees, tables, menus, a selection of food, waitresses, anything you thought of at a high-end wedding, it was there. Everyone sat down as it was the bride and grooms first dance, seeing as they held each other tight, ‘SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK,’ by Joji filling the venue, Ami’s smile never leaving her face. 

Nozomi watched with a soft smile, kneeling on her arm. Others began joining them on the dance floor shortly after. Her attention was pulled as she heard her father’s voice behind her, “Omi’?” 

She hesitantly turns to him, “Yes, Pa?”

Her father had a wide smile on his face, his eyes soft as he placed a firm hand on his daughter’s shoulder, gently squeezing it. 

“Can I have this dance?” 

She gave him a gracious smile, “Sure.”

She took his arm, following him to the floor as she held one of his hands, the other going on his shoulder, while his hand went on her hip. They swayed slightly to the music. 

“I’m…really happy to see you, Pa’,” Nozomi tells him softly, “I’m sorry I haven’t called.I just…needed time, when mom passed. I know you wanted me to stay in Japan. But I couldn’t.”

Her father gently squeezed her hip, his eyes soft as he nodded his head, “I know.” He says, “I know it was hard. I remember how distraught you were when mom passed…it was hard on all of us. I couldn’t force you to stay in Japan. You needed some freedom after all that, and you found it in the states.”

He halts for a moment, trying to find his words as he says, “I miss your mom everyday. Despite my bad decisions. She’s always with me, just like she’s here with you.”

Despite his infidelity while their mom was sick, she knew how much he loved her. It wasn’t an excuse, but it could’ve been a way of coping with knowing she was going to pass, it was a loss for everyone. 

“I’ll do better at calling, Pa’. I promise.”

A small chuckle tumbles from her father’s lips, as he shakes his head, “No, you won’t,” he teased, “I’ll just have to keep calling you until you finally answer.”

“You know me so well,” she chuckles, continuing to sway with him. 

The moment was something she couldn’t ask for twice. To make up with her father, it brought a weight off her shoulders. She felt at peace. Maybe she needed to come back home. 

Her final conflict she had to resolve appeared, Toji stepping in as he politely asked her father, “May I?”

Her father nods gently at the man, patting his daughter on the hip one last time as Toji steps in front of her, holding his hand out. His eyes slowly drift downwards, examining the beautiful maid of honor, his chest feeling almost tight.

“There you are,” she says softly, bringing her arms around his neck, an eyebrow raising as Toji questions, “You were looking for me?” 

“Maybe.”

He places his hands on her hips, a smirk forming on his face, “You’ve been avoiding me,” he reminds, “The whole damn time. Barely said shit to me.”

“Wanted to make sure you weren’t mad at me,” she deflects, pulling his neck down, wanting him to be closer to her than he was, “The rehearsal dinner was a shitshow.”

Toji’s hands tightened on her hips as he pulled her a bit closer, their chests nearly touching. His dark gray eyes pierced into hers, almost staring into her soul.

“I’m not mad,” he mutters, “I’m used to your bullshit by now. It’s expected.”

She exhales, “That doesn’t sound like much of a compliment.” 

“Cause it isn’t.” 

The same song plays, distracting her for a moment. She rolls her eyes, “So what do you like about me then, since I’m such a problem?”

“You’re a smartass,” he stated bluntly, “A smartass that knows how to press my fuckin’ buttons. A smartass that’s stubborn as all hell. A smartass…that also happens to be the prettiest person in the fuckin’ building. The only person I see here.”

Nozomi blinks up at him, her eyes glittering underneath the lights they have within the ceiling. 

“You’ really wanna be with me?” She asks softly, knowing the answer, maybe just needing reassurance.

“Don’t ask shit you already know the answer to,” he grunts, mouth lowering closer to her ear. 

His forehead pressed against hers, Nozomi giggling as he pulled her heels along his own shoes, holding her close. This might’ve been the moment she needed from him. 

They stayed like that for a while. 

The reception is in full force, different family members dancing together, Suguru and Ami inseparable, the music and food perfect for the environment. Nozomi had found a small moment to pull her and Toji away from the reception as the newlyweds took pictures, pulling him deeper into the trees, away from all the people—away from an audience. 

She leans herself against the bark, fidgeting her hands against his tux as she rambles, “My mom actually wanted her burial to be a cherry blossom tree,” she says softly, keeping her eyes along the material of his tux.

She continues, “We didn’t know until we found her wishes hidden inside the mattress. A weird place to put it,” she laughs, but it’s weak, nothing actually funny, “I think that’s why this whole wedding has been so…emotional for me. Besides seeing my sister be in love and so happy. This entire weekend has brought so many memories for me. Things I’ve realized about myself. Things I wanna fix…”

Toji couldn’t help but watch her closely as she opened up. This was the first time in a while that she’s been so…honest. So vulnerable. 

“I don’t think I ever thanked you for the orchid you left at my door,” she says quietly, “Despite the way I treated you, you still tried. And tried, and tried…” she giggles, Toji grunting as he presses his forehead along hers. She then says, “I also haven’t apologized.“

It was as if everything that happened after that was an unfortunate cue.

 Their attention is pulled away from each other as Isamu and Kim walk up to them, her brother loud as he calls, “Yo, where y’all at? Sneaking out already?”

She tries not to be irritated with her sibling. But as she notices Kim beside him giving her the nastiest look, her blood pressure spikes. 

“Just talking,” Nozomi replies, keeping her hand along Toji’s suit. 

“Got him under your claws so I don’t get to him, I see,” Kim sharply replies, and it’s quick, so quick that Nozomi almost doesn’t catch it. 

She slightly sits herself up as she raises an eyebrow, “Excuse me?”

Kim shrugs, “You assumed I’ve just been fucking him all weekend, is my comment too far off?”

“No, actually, it isn’t. You fucked’ him before, makes no difference now. A hoe is still a hoe.”

“Who are you calling a hoe?” Kim fires off, coming closer. 

But that wasn’t a problem, Nozomi was ready to put her in a headlock as she came around Toji, “ You know what— I can blame a man for his stupidity. But what I can’t handle, is a stupid ass bitch like you that would do anything for the idiocy that is a man’s attention. You knew how I felt about Toji, and yet you fucked him anyways, and you were suppose to be my friend. You’re lucky I didn’t fuckin’ shoot you.”

“Alright, knock it the fuck off,” Toji mutters, bringing his arm around her hip, lightly pulling her back from Kim who was in arms reach of the girl. 

Kim then says, “Don’t blame me that you couldn’t keep your supposed  man in check. I wouldn’t want you either if you didn’t wanna fuck me, Ms. Holier Than Thou.” 

Yup, that was it.

Nozomi laughed humorlessly, taking a step back as she moved Toji’s arm to let him know she was calm, but it was the complete opposite. 

Her eyes quickly scanned the scenery, seeing no one else around, locking her eyes back on Kim. She steps forward, plummeting her knuckles clean into Kim’s jaw, the crack heard in the echoes of the trees, Kim immediately dropping to the ground from the impact. 

“Yo, Nozomi, what the fuck!” Isamu exclaimed. 

Kim holds the side of her face, turning to the side as she spat blood on the ground. Nozomi’s anger had seeped over her. She didn’t mean to hit her, it just happened. Her knuckles stung, but it’s unfortunate that she didn’t feel satisfied. When she lunges forward to finish her off, her feet are suddenly off the ground, Nozomi grunting as she’s being thrown over Toji’s shoulder again, being pulled away from the reception. 

“Put me the fuck down!” 

She didn’t realize how close they actually were to their family’s house, practically feeling the fire off Toji’s body. He carried her into his room, Nozomi grunting as she hit the bed, breathless as her dress was already tight. 

She glares as she sits up, “What?”

Toji was absolutely livid. He could feel the anger radiating off himself as he stepped into the bedroom, his eyes piercing into the woman on the bed. He had never seen her like this before. He didn’t have the time for her bullshit. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He questioned, anger laced in his voice, “You trying to get arrested at your sister's wedding?”

“I wouldn’t have gotten arrested,” she scoffed, “Don’t be dramatic. I been letting that bitch talk crazy to me all weekend. The bitch has literally been flirting with you, all up your fuckin’ ass, and you just—let her,” she spits.

“What part of I didn't reciprocate anything isn't getting through your thick ass skull?” He snapped at her, “I don’t give a fuck if she flirts with me. I wasn't interested. I only give a fuck about you.”

“Oh? So fucking her two years ago showed that you weren’t interested? You know what— let’s talk about it!” She exclaims, “Let’s just put it all out there. We were talking, it was becoming serious. Kim was my friend, a close friend at the time. Just when I was ready to bring my walls down, make things official, be with you, I find out you fucked Kim. And conveniently? It was right after I told you I wouldn’t have sex with you unless we were officially together. You couldn’t commit to me, but you could fuck her. Are we on the same page? Am I missing anything?” 

Toji's eyes darkened. The air between them was thick with tension. He never wanted to talk about this part of their relationship again, but if she was going to bring it up—he had to deal with it. 

“I could barely commit to you at the time,” he stated angrily, “You told me you wouldn't be intimate with me unless we were together. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“Wait for me!”  She shouted back, feeling her throat becoming tight. 

“You were supposed to wait for me! You said that it wasn’t important, that you loved me! If you didn’t, you should’ve never fucking led me on! That's why I hated you. I hated you for it. You sit here now, talking about ‘what was I supposed to do’— you haven’t fucking changed!” She continues to keep her voice raised.

Her anger seeps through so quickly that she can’t help the vast punch she throws into his chest, fist shaking as she turns away from him to control herself. She wanted to be violent.

He reached out and grabbed her wrists, spinning her around to look at him. His eyes locked onto hers with a dangerous glare as he spoke, “I’ve changed. But you’re acting too fuckin’ stupid to see that. It’s like you’re looking for reasons to push me away. To end what we have.”

“Oh? You’ve changed. Typical. Say it a couple more times and maybe you’ll believe yourself. You haven’t fucking changed. You’re a bitch.” 

“Watch your fuckin’ mouth, Nozomi.” 

“Make me.” 

He could set off a bomb with the fear-inducing look he gave her, practically enraged at this point. 

“You made your bed. Be a fucking man and lay in that shit. You wanted pussy so bad you had to fuck a bitch that fucks everybody, my friend at the time. Now look at your bitch on a string, onto the next, fucking my brother when I wasn’t even worried about you. Now you wanna come back to me on some change bullshit. Fuck you.” 

“I'm not that same man anymore,” he spat, “But I guess that doesn’t matter to you, huh? No matter how much I fuckin’ change. No matter how much I try. Your stubborn ass still thinks I’m the same man I was two years ago. You haven’t changed either.”

“And how the fuck haven’t I changed?”

“You’re still the woman who runs from every single emotion. Pushing everyone away from you. You can’t even stand to deal with your own fuckin’ feelings, so it’s easier for you to push everyone out of your life. You’re weak.” 

The words hit her. Actually, hit her. It all mushes together. The loss of her mother, shutting everyone out when she needed support in her time of grief. Toji. Her father. All of it. 

The tears finally come up, dropping down her face as there’s nothing but pure malice behind her voice as she lowly spits, “Fuck you.” 

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Nozomi. I would never hurt you the way I did before.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“I love you.” 

Her heart stopped, hearing those words come from him. He was gruff in his tone, but meant exactly what he said. He wasn’t gonna let her push him away. 

“No you don’t,” she says, her voice cracking as she says that, “No you don’t. Stop lying to me!” 

He comes forward, gripping her tighter by her wrist and tugging her towards him, causing her to try to yank out of his hold as she panics, “Let go of me!”

“Say it again,” he challenged, his voice a low growl, “Say that I don't love you. Say that shit again. Say that you hate me.”

“I fucking hate you!” She exclaims, her voice trembling, slamming her fist into his chest as he takes hold of her other arm, “I hate you…I hate you…” 

The tears won’t stop, and she can’t believe her own words. It gets to a point where her entire body trembles, and she throws her hands over her face, sobbing, “Let me go, Toji…”

Toji's heart tightens in his chest when he sees her crumble before him. This was the first time he’s ever really seen her break like this. He pulled her into his arms, wrapping them around her tightly as he held her against his chest, letting her cry into him. 

“Cry, baby. I want you too. Need you too. I’m here to let you.”

She felt extremely overwhelmed, covering her face to mask her embarrassment, but that quickly fades. She reaches up, wrapping her arms around his neck, clutching her fingers in his hair as she cries. 

He could feel her pain, her hurt, her anger. It practically radiated off of her. But there was one emotion that he could feel clearly. Fear. She was scared.

She didn’t want to be hurt again like the first time, she didn’t know if she could trust him with her heart again. But there was only one way she could find that out. Her crying eventually subsides, tears still along her face as she breathes into his neck, her hand still clutching within his hair.

 She says softly, “I…I love you too…”

Toji felt his breathing stop for a moment as he listened to her words. The three words he’s been wanting to hear for so long. 

“Again,” he mumbled against her skin, “Say that shit again.”

The sound of his voice. It’s different. She hadn’t heard him sound like this in a while, and when he did, it intimidated her. Sex didn’t necessarily scare her, it just scared her with him, for him to be her first. 

“I love y—“ 

It’s interrupted, Toji lowering down as he locks his mouth with hers, clutching a grip along her throat as he filthily kisses her. It’s abnormal. He wanted to entice her, he needed her.

He didn’t hold anything back as he slipped his tongue inside of her mouth, his fingers fully wrapping around her neck as a way to keep her still. He was enthralled, and he was going to show her just how badly he was. 

When he pulled his mouth back, her skin felt on fire. Her eyes blinked residuals of tears, teeth digging into her lip as he kept yanking her forward for another kiss, his mouth on her throat, her chest, her jaw, tongue dragging up her skin, aching for her. 

Her breath hitched as he picked her up, carrying her onto the bed. Her mind is spinning as he hovers over her frame, grasping her by the back of her neck and holding her up, kissing her so fiercely that it made her entire body tremble.

Toji’s mind was reeling. The feeling of her against him, her scent filling his nostrils, the way her skin felt against his lips. He felt like he was in a dream—a hazy, lustful dream. 

He pulled back from her mouth, leaving a trail of kisses down her jaw before moving to her neck. His lips left marks along her skin, wanting her to feel them the next morning when she woke up. 

She finally lets her mouth drop words out as she nervously exhales, “Fushiguro, wait…”

When her words came out with a breathlessness to them, Toji felt his mind go crazy. He pulled back, his hot breath fanning against her skin as he locked his eyes on hers. 

“What?” He questioned in a low tone, his gaze flicking down to her lips as he waited for her to speak.

“You know I haven’t…” she feels embarrassed, “I just…I don’t want to look stupid.”

Toji’s expression softened as he heard her words. He knew her concern, he understood it. But in his eyes, she was anything but stupid. She was perfect. 

“You won’t,” he assured her, his hand moving up to grip her chin, “You don’t look stupid. Let me take care of you.”

She blinks. Her hand slowly reaches back for his hair, nodding her head as she asks him quietly, “Can you…kiss my neck again? It…It felt nice.”

A low grunt of approval rolled from his lips as he heard her request. He leaned in, hovering just above her skin, teasing her, watching her reaction as he finally planted his lips along her neck, right under her ear. The feeling makes her breath hitch, her head kneeling back slightly to rush off the burn she gets from his mouth. 

He left a trail of kisses down to her collarbone, his tongue slowly dragging along one part of her skin in the most torturous way. She shifts beneath him, her chest rising, trying to appear normal—but her skin is buzzing.

He nips at the skin just below her collarbone, and that’s when he hears a sound that sets him absolutely off. 

A gasp. It escapes from her lips as she tries to bite it back. The sound makes his ears go crazy, and he’s instantly driven by one thing now. More.

The dress she wears instantly feels tighter. She’d been around Toji many times, but never fully naked. She kneels her head up, mouth close to his as she murmurs, “Need to um…take my dress off…”

“I know.” 

Her throat goes dry as he flips her body over beneath him, effortless as if she weighed nothing. He begins unzipping the dress, sliding his hand inside the material, his mouth now along the back of her neck. He uses his free hand to grip her hair, fisting it into a ponytail beneath his palms as the dress hits the ground with a thud. Her entire body was now bare to him from behind, only being covered by the ballerina pink thong she wore.

Her skin was like fine porcelain, smooth and delicate. He could see some ink that stretched along her skin, and he instantly was curious to see all of it later. For now, he would leave those questions for another time. His mouth trailed up along her neck before he whispered into her ear. 

“I wanna hear my name from your mouth.” He demanded lowly. “Need to hear it.”

He still holds her hair within his fist, his mouth along her skin again, now along her spine, causing her eyes to flutter closed, unable to respond just yet, only arching her back to show she enjoyed the feeling. Chills rushed down her body as he locked his fingers around her ankle, twisting her towards being on her back again. His mouth was now crawling on the back of her thigh. 

She shivered, a reaction coming from her as she gasped softly, “T—Toji, w—wait—“ 

Yet he didn’t stop, grunting as he continued making out with her leg, dragging his lips across her skin, running his tongue up to reach the back of her foot, repetitively making her lower body throb in a way she hadn’t felt before, like she needed something from him.

Toji was drunk with the feeling of her beneath him. His lips were famished on her skin, marking her up in places that he knew no one would see. When she was now on her back, Nozomi couldn’t help but press her arm over her breasts, her other hand pressing in between her legs to cover herself. She wasn’t insecure in her body, but this was the first time he’d officially seen her naked. She felt…shy.

“Nah, don’t cover yourself from me,” he grunts, “I wanna see my woman.” 

Toji felt her shiver underneath him. He had to taste more of her, to see what else he could make her react to.

His mouth trailed up her leg, lingering near her core. His expression made her entire lower body warm. He leaned forward, darting his tongue out to tease her clit through the fabric of her panties. A low growl came from him in response as he felt her tense underneath him. He lifted his head, looking up at her with a smirk as he tugged her panties to the side, revealing her wet opening to him.

"You're so fuckin’ wet already,” he groaned. 

Her legs nearly locked together when he gave her clit the softest kiss, admiring the pink nub. Her pussy was pretty. Just for him. Leaning back down to lick at her folds, his tongue swirled around her clit before he sucked it into his mouth.

Nozomi’s body shuddered, the feeling almost ticklish, like she wanted to push him away. He instantly locked his hands along the back of her thighs, pressing her knees against the bed as he grunted, nudging his mouth farther into her clit, a slurping sound creating at the way his lips moved. Her hand went to grip his hair if she couldn’t escape, a soft gasp leaving her lips as she whimpered, “Toji…”

The moment she called out his name, Toji felt something stir within him. It wasn't just lust anymore, it was desire. A need to claim her, to mark her as his own.

He continued eating at her, his tongue delving deeper into her folds as he tasted every inch. His hands tightened around her thighs as he held her open for himself, letting her feel his hot breath fan across her sensitive flesh.

"Fuck...you taste even better than I imagined," he murmured, his voice muffled as he dragged his entire mouth along her core, Nozomi jumping as he harshly spanked the side of her thigh in approval. 

Her legs lightly clasped around his face, twisting his head a bit as it felt overwhelming, gripping his hair harder as her body trembled. She whimpered again, pleading to him, “Baby…”

But that didn’t do anything to stop him, if anything it made him continue. Her breath hitched as one of his hands came up, gripping her breast within his palm as the other kept her legs spread.

Toji felt her squirm beneath him, her pleas only spurring him on further. He loved the way she sounded, begging for him to stop yet unable to pull herself away.

“I’m sorry, baby. Can’t help myself,” he groans to her. 

She's trapped beneath his relentlessment as he sticks his tongue out, pushing it inside of her walls, warm and gummy as they fold around his mouth. His eyes nearly rolled as he groaned again, feeling Nozomi’s thighs trembling as she softly cried— He could taste her arousal, thick and potent. It was intoxicating, making him drunk with desire.

“Pussy is so fuckin’ pretty,” he grunts, holding her thighs apart as he circles his head, deepening his tongue inside her, the sight to Nozomi’s eyes completely filthy.

She throws her hands over her face as she softly cries, “Fushiguro….stop…”  her face was entirely red.

The more she begged, the more Toji wanted to hear it. He liked hearing her pleads. He had the intention to make it worse. 

"Shut the fuck up,” he grunted out, “‘Gonna put your whole pussy on my face,” his tongue delving deeper into her. He could feel her walls clenching around him, her juices coating his face as he ate her out.

His hands gripped tighter onto her thighs, holding her open for himself as he continued to feast on her. He could feel her trembling beneath him, her pleas only serving to fuel his desire.

"Oh fuck...you're so tight," he groaned, his tongue curling as he pushed it further inside of her, “Not gonna be able to handle all this dick. Gonna fuckin’ cry,” he won’t stop talking, she wants to punch him at this point. 

Toji couldn't get enough of her—the taste of her. He lapped at her hungrily, his tongue plunging into her depths as his hands held her legs up. He could feel her tightening around him, her juices flowing freely as he devoured her.

"Oh my god, baby, gonna make you cum..." he growled against her pussy, his voice muffled by her folds. "Then I’m gonna fuck you up until you can't walk straight. Can’t think straight.” 

His words in her mind— it makes her legs shake even harder, trapping his head within her thighs again. He snatches them open, the sight of his eyes closed, tongue dipping in and out of her, she felt like she was going to faint. He gets a good leverage of her hips, dragging his tongue back up her clit, sucking it between his lips as the sound echoes in the room, sliding back down as he yanks her pussy against his jaw, practically bouncing her against his mouth. Her abdomen shakes as waves of pleasure come crashing down, something like his tongue making  her feel a stretch in her walls, how was she gonna survive? 

It didn’t help that Toji was beneath her, moaning as if this pleased him entirely, head swiveling around, bottom of his face completely soaked. Toji was lost in the taste of her, the feel of her body writhing beneath him. Her cries filled his ears, her juices coated his tongue, and the way her body shook beneath him drove him wild.

He sucked harder on her clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub as he worked it into his mouth. His hands gripped her hips tightly, holding her in place as he rolled his lips, sucking all at the same time, practically drinking between her legs. 

The moment her legs opened a bit wider for him, Nozomi reached up for her ankle that quivered, her hips matching the jitter as she looked down to him, panting, “Agh…Fushiguro…I—baby…” 

“About to cum, pretty baby?”

“I—I don’t know…” her throat grasps for the oxygen in the room, “F—Feel like I have to pee…”

That makes him grunt, clutching his palms back around her ankles, hovering his mouth above her hips as he makes contact directly with her clit, sloppily slurping at the sticky and wet flesh, dropping his lower lip against her entire core as he slows his mouth down, head motioning in a circle so effectively that he should’ve been dizzy. The sight, the sound, all of it makes Nozomi’s eyes flutter. She tightly snatches his hair as her abdomen tenses up, a sense of defeat as she gushes along his face, Toji reaching up as he sticks his fingers within her mouth, pulling her up by her teeth to make her watch. 

“Cum just like that. Good fuckin’ girl,” his voice is still muffled, entrapping her pussy with his mouth, lapping up her arousal mercilessly, worshipping her body for the pleasure she releases. She jumps as he raises his hand, spanking the side of her ass, gripping the flesh to watch it faint a color of red. 

Her eyes are low, body tired—but they’d only just begun. 

He comes up as he snatches the side of her face, plunging his lips against her own as he messily makes out with her. Nozomi attempts to keep up with him, but her body feels paralyzed, wondering if this was her time to plead the fifth. This man was trying to kill her. 

“Eyes,” he tells her, gripping her chin to look at him, “You’ okay? Need me to stop?”

Despite her own mind in fear of what was to come next, her body was on vibrate, and a bigger part of her wanted more. Needed more. She shook her head, pulling her eyes open as a response.

 She gasps softly as spanks her ass, “Nah. Fuck all that no talking shit, tell me everything you feel. Tell me you want me to keep going.” 

The thought of being vocal made her nervous, embarrassed even. She said softly, “Keep going…” 

He smacks his lips with a grunt of, “You can do better than that,” pulling her into another kiss before he backs up, standing at the edge of the bed to begin removing his own clothes. Nozomi only watches, her face warm and flustered, thinking back to running out of the room each time this man even took his shirt off. 

Now here he was, dark eyes intently on her as he aggressively tugged off his tie, never as gentle with himself as he could be with her. Her eyes drop down as he begins removing his pants, trying to hide the way her eyes want to fall out when he pulls down his boxers—he definitely was…gifted, if she could find the word.

“Don’t look at me like that if you don’t wanna come play with it.” 

She keeps her eyes to herself. 

He almost chuckles, feeling her gaze pull away as he stands before her, now completely naked. His entire frame was beautifully sculpted, abdomen hard, nearly sharp within her sight. He comes back onto the bed, his large arms caging her in by the sides of her head.  

“Like what you see, huh?”

 His lips are close to hers again, lightly brushing along the baby pink of her mouth. Her face is warm again, looking everywhere but between his legs. She says softly, “Don’t do that,” too nervous for his teasing. It’s the little things he does, brushing his mouth against hers instead of actually kissing her that drives her crazy. Her mouth is parted as she wants him to make out with her, but instead he presses light kisses along her jaw, watching as it makes her chest heave up and down, wrapping her arm around his neck, reaching for his hair from behind.

He chuckles, enjoying just how much he can get her worked up. Her need for his mouth on hers was obvious, it only made him want to tease her even more. 

 “You want my mouth?”

His fucking voice—the way he slowly begins locking her legs over his shoulders, it makes her clutch tighter for his hair. A small whine comes from her mouth, breathing into his throat as she begs beneath her breath, “Want your mouth, so bad…”

She’s so vulnerable like this, so vulnerable beneath him. 

“I know you do.” He mutters against her skin, his mouth now trailing up to her ear, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this, you know that? Begging for me, whining to have my mouth on you.”

Her legs being separated by his shoulders make her ache even more, unable to squeeze them together anymore. He still doesn’t give her what he wants. He needed the perfect moment. Her heart beats within her chest, hoping this isn’t as painful as she imagined it to be. 

Toji’s face hovers over hers, face stoic as he watches her expression. He locks his palms around her ankles while trapping her along the bed. The moment feels like an eternity. He takes his tip within his hand, rubbing it against her clit, watching as she shudders from that. He then slaps it along her opening, listening to her pussy squelch, needing to be filled. The silence was deafening at this point. 

Slowly, dreadfully, achingly, he begins to push inside of her. Nozomi’s eyes twitch, her mouth parts open a little after, and she starts to feel a deep pinch in her lower body, a sweet pain that she’d never experienced before. Toji keeps his eyes up, gently placing his forehead on top of hers as he moves a bit, the hold she had along his hair clutches even tighter, and finally, a whimper comes from her lips.

The sound of her whimper causes him to pause, closing his eyes momentarily to control himself. He was already engulfed in her pleasure, but it was the fact that he knew he was her first that was making him absolutely feral. 

Toji felt his breath get caught in his throat the moment he heard that sound come from her. It was a mixture of pain and pleasure, and it sounded so damn good to his ears.

Her legs instantly began trembling. Her arms around his neck tighten as she leans her head back, pulling him forward to press his lips along her neck. The mixture of the two feelings made her legs tremble even more, a shuddering whine coming from her mouth. 

She gasped, deeply, her eyes closing as she could feel tears brimming in them, a pleasure she had never experienced before filling her body.

The sight of her so sensitive causes his mind to snap. Her body is like a piece of glass; he has to hold her with care, otherwise she’d break. He had to be gentle with her, and he had never been this gentle with anyone. 

She’s gasping along his ear, Toji unable to help himself to talk to her as he grunts, “Shit feels good, doesn’t it? This is my pussy, huh?” 

His voice in her ear sends her into panting softly, keeping her grip on his hair. His grip along her ankles doesn’t falter, spreading her legs a little wider, Nozomi pulling his face deeper into her neck as she trembles, “Oh my…ohmygod.”

Her trembling beneath him only makes his heart race that much faster. She’s so reactive, every subtle movement he makes as he’s between her legs brings a new response. He lets her claw into his hair, needing her to mark him in some way as her hands stay there. 

Toji’s mind is hazy as he pushes deeper into her, a low groan leaving his mouth near her ear. “You’re doing so good, baby.”

Her inhales are short, but her exhales are long. She pulls his face up to meet hers, lightly pulling their lips together, trying to kiss him, unable to as her head spins, eyes rolling to the back of her head. She whines softly, “B—baby…I…”

He can’t help the grin that comes to his face as she tries desperately to kiss him, but her body is too sensitive to it. She trembles, her hair sticking to her skin, a glow of sweat along her body. 

It’s pleasure, and only Toji can give it to her. He’ll give her all of it. 

“What, baby?” He muttered against her skin, peppering kisses along her neck as he continued his slow movements. “You’ gonna say my name again?”

He’s barely moving, but the moment he does, she cries softly, dragging her nails into his back, “Toji,” she whimpers his name in the most desperate way, as if wasn’t allowed to.

Each time she says his name, he can’t help but feel heat fill his body. Each cry, each whimper, each breath from her skin as she says his name, it makes him hungry for more. 

His grip on her ankles tightens, using them in order to drive himself deeper. When she cries his name, Toji can’t help but groan against her skin, kissing where he can as he whispers, “Say my fuckin’ name just like that.”

His left hand reaches up for the headboard, finding a grip along the wood as his other hand still holds her ankle. Nozomi keeps her nails dug into his back, face within his shoulder as she brokenly moans, feeling that she’d be embarrassed about the sounds she made later. 

She gasps softly, “I…I feel…different…”

It’s obvious that she’s still new to the feeling. Her whimpers are filled with a hint of pain, but Toji was determined to make this as good for her as possible. 

He wants no thought to be in her mind but him.

“How do you feel?” He asked her between breaths, his chest pressing against hers, his head buried in her neck as he began to pick up rhythm, their flesh creating a clapping sound. He slowly moved her leg, moving it to a spot that would make her feel even more.

Her leg trembles at the movement of her leg, mouth right against his as a genuine, “Ughn—shit,” scatters desperately from her lips, eyes fluttering shut, losing the side of her brain to answer the question.

The sound of her swearing has a dark chuckle fan against her mouth from him. Toji wants to ruin her, and he intends to do just that. He wants to make her so sensitive that she’d be unable to handle just one more touch.

His lips brush hers as whispers to her, his movements deliberate and calculated. “You feel good, baby?” He muttered against her skin, “You’ hear me fucking you? Hear your pussy, baby? She sounds so pretty, doesn’t she? Sucking me in like she can’t let go. Listen.” 

The clapping sound of their skin, the way his hips bury into her, sloshing each time he pushes inside. She inhales deeply, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she breathlessly whimpers, “Yeaah,” she drags the word out a bit to her disadvantage, clutching his hair again, sucking her breathing back to silence as she hears herself losing her sense to talk.

Her voice makes Toji groan. She sounds absolutely wrecked. 

“It’s too much, huh?” He cooes, the bastard, his hand moving from her ankle to her thigh, “Who’s making you feel like this?” 

“You, baby,” she says, eyes rolling back ever so slightly, “You, baby. Fuck, it’s you, baby,” she repeats, as if she didn’t hear herself the first two times.

“That’s fuckin’ right,”  He muttered against her skin, his hand rubbing up and down her thigh as he continued his movements, making her feel every each inch of him, “Nobody else is gonna fuck you the way I do.” 

She’s the one who’s begging for him. She’s whining for him, and only him. She’s saying his name and only his name.

“You feel so good, baby.” He whispers to her, “Pussy made just for me. Wanna eat her again, miss that shit gushing all on my mouth.” 

She’s gripping onto him for dear life. Her reactive moans  is the only thing he can hear as he continued, “You’re so sensitive. If I eat you out, I know you’re gonna cream, might even squirt. Fuck, baby…” 

“Oooohshit,” her mouth parts, Toji grasping a rough kiss at the opportunity of her mouth opening, “Fuckin’ feel you, baby,” she clutches his hair tighter, “D—Don’t mean to pull your hair like that…m’sorry…”

“Pull harder.” He orders her, his voice low as his lips now give company to her ear. 

She tugs a little more in response—soft, making sure she doesn’t hurt him—which causes Toji to chuckle, the deep sound fanning against her lips. 

She nearly pouted, “Don’t laugh at me…”

He kisses her shoulder gently before grunts, “You’re so fuckin’ cute like this. Fuckin’ needy ass. So tough, so mouthy—all you needed was some dick.”

“You’re making fun of me…” she whimpers, turning her face down to his shoulder, becoming a bit

more vocal as her body relaxes. 

“I am,” he admitted against her skin, “But you’re taking my shit so good, baby. You’re being such a good girl, it’s so fuckin’ sexy.”

It seems that his voice is what triggers her, because when she takes in his tone, a particularly deep gasp comes from her chest, her head kneeling back, hips squirming in response. Her pussy tightens. 

Toji grumbles against her neck, “You like my voice, baby?”

She nods her head, “I—agh—like it, baby,” she agrees softly, “Like when you talk to me…” she tries to find her words, feeling her face warm as she also adds, “Like when you’re a little rough with me…”

He chuckles against her skin, her confession only furthering his drive, “Rough, huh?” He muttered against her skin, “I’m trying to be gentle, baby. Don’t do that.” 

“I’m okay,” her voice is soft, but it’s a protest, “Feels good, baby. I…” she drags her nails down his back, “Want more of you.”

The sound of her voice is so soft and needy, so desperate for more of him, Toji can’t keep himself from groaning against her skin, her nails digging into his skin just making him all the more greedy. 

“You want more of me?” He muttered against her neck, his lips brushing along her pulse, “You can barely take the dick I’m giving you now, whimpering and shit. You don’t need more.” 

She pulls him down by his hair, tugging it the way he asked before, her tongue dragging along his skin as she whimpers, “Please, Toji…”

The tug on his hair makes his breath get caught in this throat, and the way her tongue drags along his skin is only adding more gasoline to the fire that’s already burning inside of him. 

“Please what, baby?” He asked her against her skin, her whimpering driving him further over the edge, “You gotta tell me what you want, baby. Use your words.”

She thinks for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what she wanted. She then tells him, “‘Wanna get on top.”

The statement takes him by surprise, his movements pausing as he lifts his head to look at her. Being on top would give her a position of control. But one look at her face, her expression, he finds that he’s unable to say no even if he wanted to. 

“You wanna ride me, baby?” He grunts to her, Nozomi nodding in response as she persuades, “‘Wanna show you I can handle you…” a desperation to her tone, “Want you to feel good too.”

“I feel good as fuck, baby. Don’t worry about that. Come here.”

He leans himself back along the bed, pulling her above him as he states, “Prove that shit, then.”

Now she was actually nervous. Her legs feel numb, and there’s a very faint cramp in her lower abdomen, but the pleasure she felt—a rush of it came over her body seeing him now laid on his back, dark eyes watching her every move. She wanted more. 

She slowly crawls towards him, curiously eyeing the monster that stood at her attention, it jumping when she looks fully at his dick. It was veiny, probably heavy in her hands. She can’t help it. She leans forward as she wraps her lips around his tip, dipping her head down as she drags spit along his entire length, pulling her mouth back with a pop.

 As she runs her tongue over her lips, she feels him clutch her jaw, grunting at the sight of her sucking his dick as he growls, “You’re not ready for that. Come bounce on my dick.” 

She listens— although something in her prefers to be defiant—coming onto his lap, reaching behind herself as she runs her palm along his tip, guiding it towards her opening as she spreads herself with her other hand.  

She sinks herself down, the newfound feeling causing her eyes to drop lower, a soft gasp leaving her lips. It was an aching pinch in her body all over again. She adjusts her hips as she moans, feeling Toji’s hands grip the skin of her ass, balancing her weight.

He groaned at her walls tightening around him, opening his palm as he slammed it against her ass with a gruff, “That’s it, baby…” 

She leans herself into him, placing her hands along his chest as she looks behind herself, slowly raising her hips, gently dropping her ass back down. Her entire abdomen felt on fire, her eyes fluttering closed as her legs throbbed, pulling her hair behind her ear as she shuddered, “Like that?”

He groaned the second she began to move, and he was barely able to hold himself back from lifting her hips himself, making her move. He’s letting her set the pace, making sure to give her as much time as she needs to adjust herself. 

His hands found her hips again, guiding her gently as he let out a husky, “Just like that, baby…” His voice is a harsh whisper, his eyes unable to leave her. “So fuckin’ sexy…” 

The way his voice sounds is different from before, a vulnerability that he didn’t have when she was beneath him. She moved her hips up and down a couple of more times, the final connection sending a wave of pleasure over her body, her breath hitching before a soft moan released. This is where she began to find her rhythm, moving a little faster, her fingers sinking into his chest, digging into the skin as she dug her teeth into her lip, eyebrows furrowing as she attempted to hold back the whimpers that wanted to drop from her lips.

As she found her rhythm, Toji allowed himself to let out a low groan, his eyes closing as he savored the feeling of her body against his. The dig of her nails into his skin only drove him farther over the edge, his hands on her hips only holding her, fighting the demon that wanted to take control. He could feel her slowly gaining more confidence—he was loving it. 

“Riding my shit like a fuckin’ pro, baby…” 

She wasn’t sure why was so shy at this moment, and in order for her to feel good, she needed to relax. She swirls her hips around, running her fingers over her body in a way that makes her hips tremble, immediately placing her hands back along his chest as she moaned, “Need you to touch me…” as she takes one of his hands, placing it along her throat, face warm as she does so.

He clutches his palm around her throat immediately, still holding onto her hip, spanking her again, “Like that? That’s what you want?”

She nods, “Mhm,” sucking in a breath as she feels him using her throat as leverage to hold onto her, her breathing going back to quick inhales, and slow, heavy exhales, “Yeah, baby…love when you touch me like that.”

He’s becoming impatient—he can’t help himself. He gives her a new way to move, pulling her feet flat along the bed, raising his hands higher under her thighs to have a good leverage on her, before he’s lifting her up, dropping her down, bouncing her on top of him, the harsh movement causing their skin to make a loud noise, the impact making Nozomi fully gasp. It causes her to place her hand behind herself along his leg, the other still in front of his chest. 

She understands what he wants, doing just that, moving her entire body as her ass recoils to the slam of his abdomen, something she entirely was too sensitive for, but powered through in order to feel the pleasure that came with it. Her head was down, whining as her lower body shook, dragging up and plopping back down, a heavy groan dropping from her lips as her hair fell around her face and shoulder. 

She squeezed the skin she held onto as she messily moaned, “Oh my goddd—baby. baby, yeah—“ she squeaks, connecting their hips in between, “I can’t….” She pants, “Feels so…aghh.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

He was supposed to be letting her have her time on top, but he can’t hold back any longer. He growls against her skin, his voice almost a command, “Lean forward. Let me fuck you.” 

She leans into him, feeling as he wraps his arms around her lower back, his own hips thrusting upwards, the sound within the room like no other. Nozomi places her hand against his bicep, digging into the skin as she bleats, “Ooooh, shit, Toji—“ she gasps to herself, locking her hand over her mouth, shuddering wildly as she then wraps her arms around his neck as she cries, “Mmmm, wait, baby,” she whimpers out, unable to hold her voice back.

He buries his head into her neck, kissing, licking, biting, leaving a mark as he continues. 

“Nuh-uh, thought you could handle it? Thought you were a big girl?” He grunts in her ear, “Take my fuckin’ dick, big girl.”

He takes advantage of his movement, fully locking his arms under her legs, pulling her knees over his shoulders as she’s still on top of him. Her arms are still wrapped around his neck as he sits himself up a bit, holding her fully as he guides her roughly. His palms are hot as he holds the flesh of her ass, lifting her within the air as he yanks harshly, pussy sopping arousal as he slams her down onto his dick, his balls drenched in her cream.  Nozomi gasps against his mouth, blabbering cries faltering against his lips. She can only listen to the sounds their bodies create together, mewling in defeat. 

She pouts along his mouth as she whimpers, “Fuckin’ love you, babyy.”

He captures her lips with his own, his teeth gently tugging on her bottom lip as he grunts against her mouth, “Stop all that whining shit. Thought you hated me.”

She presses her forehead to his, “Don’t bring that up…” seeing how messy she was against him, her hand back in a deep grip on his hair. She goes silent for a moment, holding him close as she listens to their skin stickily connecting. But that didn’t mean he was done talking to her.

He moves himself slightly, shifting their position just enough for him to get a good angle to give a particularly aggressive thrust, enough to force a cry from her lips, “I know you fuckin’ hear me talking to you.”

Her heavy panting goes into a particularly long and raspy moan, her breath sucking in as she tries to fight it, back to pressing her forehead against his as she whimpers back, “Don’t hate you. Can’t hate you, when you’re fucking me like this…” she groans, eyes wanting to roll back again, “Sorry, baby…was so mean to you…”

He relishes in her groans, her whines, the way she’s unable to speak normally, the way she’s falling apart completely because of him. “You should be sorry. Now look at you.” 

He doesn’t halt at all, her small frame being carried effortlessly, lifting her up and down on his dick, his tip damn near reaching her throat. Her breathless pants are embarrassing to hear, but the squeal she makes when he swirls her hips down with a hard drop onto his hips, that's even worse. 

Her arms tremble as she tightens them around his neck, another aggressive moan pushing out her body, pleasurable tears triggering from that one. She gasps, “Oh my—“ she holds herself back, looking him in his eyes as she whines messily, “Forgive me, baby. So fuckin’ sorrry. Imsosorry,” cheeks hot as she listens to his arrogant laugh.

“Sorry, huh? You don’t mean it.”

“Mean it, baby. Fuck.” 

“It’s cause I’m fuckin’ you stupid,” he grunts, tugging her down, her walls gushing through his thrusts, spurting out suctions of air. 

She drags her tongue up his jaw, reaching his mouth as she pleads, “Said sorry already, baby. Know you wanna forgive me…”

He groans at that, keeping his composure as he talks to her, “Say you won’t be mean to me again,” he demanded against her lips, his grip on her hips tightening.

“Always gonna be nice to you, baby,” she whimpers, “Wanna be sweet to you…” she sucks on his lower lip, giggling in a way that makes her feel insane, so full of pleasure, she couldn’t even think.

“Yeah?” He asked breathlessly, his hands grasping a harsh and unforgiving grip on her hips, “You promise?”

“Promiseeee,” she moans back, “Fushigurooo,” she panics, gripping onto him, “I….my body…I feel numb.” 

She didn’t understand the feeling. She had experienced a certain amount of pleasure, but this was different. While all of this had been symphonies of pleasure, this was an entire orchestra. She was having her first orgasm.

“Just let it happen, baby.” He muttered against her neck, his lips against her skin, “It’s a good thing, I promise.”

Her entire body jolts, shivering in a defeated pleasure, a short scream releasing from her mouth as she holds onto him, her legs trembling as if she’d been electrocuted. Her knees shake over his shoulders as her eyes drop down to see her squirt against him, nails digging into his chest as she cried out, “Tojiii.” 

He presses his forehead to hers, his own body feeling like it��s on fire as she moans, “Ooh, fuck baby. You’re squirting. Keep cumming. Keep cumming. Keep. Fuckin’

Cumming,” he talks in between thrusts, sending her in a state of psychosis. 

The tears that drop from her eyes make her sob in pleasure, knowing his skin was welted with the way she clawed him, her face pressing into his neck as a warmth filled her cheeks. His brain is muffled as she whines, “Cum in me, cum in me. Cum in me.”

He tries to knock sense into himself, but with her in his ear, he grips her skin as he bottoms out, moaning as he cums to her voice. She made him insane.  

Both of them feel exhausted, but not as much as Nozomi. When she finally felt that her mouth wouldn’t release anymore shouts, her body still trembled as she whimpered, bringing her face deeper into his neck.

“Fuck, baby. You’ okay?”

She brings a hand over her face as she nods, unable to do anything else. All her vulnerability returns, realizing she was bare against him, realizing what’d she just done. What they’d just done. 

Her sudden shyness makes him careful. She’s vulnerable like this, and he wants to take the time to handle her, to treat her. He gently guides her body against his, rolling them so she’s against the mattress and he’s laid against her. He gently pries her hand away from her face, his fingers gently tracing over her cheeks. 

“Hey, pretty,” his deep voice greets her. 

Her face turns away, hiding within his shoulder for a moment. Silence goes between them as she softly says, “Hi.”

He lets out a soft laugh at her shy greeting, his hand gently rubbing the side of her body, his fingers gently tracing over her back. 

“You’ okay, baby?” He asked her stain, placing a gentle kiss against her temple, “You with me?”

“Mhm,” she replies gently, “I’m here.”

She whimpers as she feels him spank her attention to him, flicking her eyes as she says, “I’m just thinking.”

He can see the way she twitches from the smack, his voice dropping into a deep chuckle, “Thinking?” His tone is a tease, a playful taunt as he speaks, “I fucked you that good, huh?”

“Fushiguro,” she warns, “Jesus. Fuck off. Is this your way of pillow talk?”

“You’ got an attitude?” he raises an eyebrow.

He hikes her up as he growls into her neck, snatching her skin in a kiss that makes her giggle. She then says quietly, “I just…am curious to know what this means for us. Going forward…” 

She traces her finger over his chest, “If this just happened in the moment, or that you really wanted to be with me…”

The questions almost pissed him off. He’s never wanted anyone as much as he wants her. 

He suddenly captures her chin in his hand, bringing her face up to meet him as he spoke in a deep and serious tone, “I want you. I want all of you.”

The words are genuine, and her heart swells. She leans closer to his face as she grins, “Say it again.” 

She giggles as he raises her leg over his shoulder, spanking her again as he grunts, “I love you, Nozomi.”  

His words make her body warm, feeling as he gruffly kisses her neck, trying to prove his point. The way she smiles, the way the grin looks on her face…he’s completely smitten.  

“Say it back,” he grunts against her skin, his words like a breathless demand, “Say you love me.”

“I love me,” she says softly, giggling louder as he hovers over her now, growling against her skin as he spanks her a couple more times.

He chuckles against her skin at her sarcastic words, his hand gently digging into the flesh of her thigh as he pressed another possessive bite into the skin on her neck, just hard enough to make her squeal. 

“I swear. Say you love me, baby,” he teased her, nipping against her skin, “Please.”

She finally becomes serious, holding up his chin to look directly at her as she says, “I love you, Toji.”

A low groan drops from his lips as he captures her in a deep, hungry kiss, his mouth attacking her own as his hands tug at her body to pull her closer to him, “Again.” 

“I love you,” she muffled, giggling against his mouth, “I love you.”

His body is craving her even more after hearing her words, her voice a drug that’s suddenly driving him crazy, suddenly making him desperate and needy. His tongue forces its way into her mouth, desperate to fuck her. Eat her out. Something. 

She then pulls him back, “We need to get back to the reception before my sister kills me,” she giggles throughout his kisses, “Seriously, Fushiguro.”

He pauses, pulling back from her neck as he groans into her skin, pulling back to grumble against her skin, “Fine.”

“One more kiss,” he bargained with her, “Just one, before we go.”

“One,” she agrees, accepting the kiss from him. He then leans down, “Or two,” kissing her again, “Or three.” 

He can’t help but want to make her giggle. It had been so long since he heard it, he’d never make her stop. She sighs as she says, “Help me with this dress, please?”

“We’re really leaving? For real?” 

“Did you think I was joking?”

“A little.”

“Boy. Let's go.” 

“Didn’t you say you were gonna be nice to me earlier? You were like ‘aghhh, baby! imma’ be nice!’—“ 

“Fushiguro!” 

“…My bad.”

[dashing-disaster]

Bad Beer and Naked Rodents

Thank you @xmidhel for beta reading!

also on AO3

“You know,” Sal drawls, twisting the cap off another beer and handing it over, “for someone with an above average IQ, you’re dense as fuck.”

Tommy glares but accepts the bottle without protest. It’s his third. He takes a long sip and shudders. Bud Light. Why did Sal have to be such a fucking stereotype? But he was too tired to complain. He was too tired to do much of anything right now.

“He’s not wrong,” Lucy said to his left and Tommy directed his glare towards her instead. Like Sal, she wasn’t impressed.

“What? You know it’s true. There you are, genuinely happy for the first time in…” she pauses to think, “for the first time since I met you, actually.”

“Ever” Tommy supplies miserably, sinking further into the couch cushions. Something pokes into his right kidney and he reaches underneath himself, pulling out a small doll with messy blue hair, a pink ruffled dress and a … horn?

“Unicorn Barbie,” Sal exclaims and snags the doll from his hand. “Thanks man, you just saved this household a lot of sweat and tears. Look, babe, he found her!”

“Uncle Tommy to the rescue,” Gina says dryly, without even looking up from her laptop where she’s furiously typing some email that’s probably important and Tommy feels a pang of guilt at intruding on her peace and quiet unannounced at 9pm on a week day, Lucy in tow. He’s unable to dwell on it, however, because Lucy pipes up again.

“Let’s circle back here for a moment, your life was going great, you were happy, your hair was even starting to look good-“

“Hey!”

“Don’t interrupt me, Thomas. My point is, you got scared of commitment for three seconds and tell Evan Buckley, Evan Buckley, to go off to frolic on Grindr? I’m sorry, but do you know how stupid that is? Do you have any idea what happens to guys like Evan Buckley on Grindr?”

“Say his name like that one more time and I swear to God.” It comes out with far more venom than intended and he cringes internally. Why does he have to be such a bitch? It’s a credit to their love for him that none of his friends even bat an eye.

They’re not gentle either, and Tommy’s kind of glad about it. He doesn’t deserve gentle. Not now, maybe not ever again.

“What happens to guys like him on Grindr,” Sal asks curiously and then frowns. “And what do you know about Grindr?”

“My cousin wanted to try it out but he’s super paranoid about technology stealing his data, man’s still got a Nokia. So we set up his profile on my phone. He decided it wasn’t for him 10 minutes in but I kept the app and sometimes I go window shopping when downtime gets too long.”

“Why am I not surprised in the slightest,” Tommy mutters into his beer. Lucy is undeterred.

“Anyway, Gabe’s no hag either and similarly baby-faced as Buck so every time I open the app they’re on him in minutes. Seriously, it’s like The Walking Dead and some of the messages I get are borderline illegal. And don’t get me started on the dick pics. They’re not even nice-looking dicks most of the time.”

“Is there such a thing as a nice-looking dick? I’ve always found they all look a little like mole-rats.”

Sal, who’s been fiddling with Unicorn Barbie’s hair in a futile attempt to get out some of the knots pauses and makes a pitiful little sound staring wide-eyed at his wife who’s still neither looking up from her screen, nor is she pausing her aggressive typing, and Tommy’s both impressed and a little scared of that level of multi-tasking.

“Don’t worry, bud, Gi loves your dick. You’ve got three little monsters to prove it.”

Sal shoots Lucy a look so dirty Tommy almost laughs.

“I love the man attached to it. It’s still a mole-rat, though.” A beat of silence, then Gina looks up from her laptop for the first time in two hours, finding her husband’s eyes across the coffee table. “I love mole-rats.”

Lucy snorts, but Sal looks so pleased even Tommy has to smile.

“Still, though,” Lucy picks up the previous topic again, “are we sure it’s a good idea to throw Buck into a world of mole-rats and creepy old dudes wanting him to call them ‘daddy’?”

Tommy decidedly does not look in Sal’s direction. He loves Lucy and Gina but this is a topic one only discusses with one’s very best of friends.

“A world of disappointment, more like. Buck’s had Tommy now, anything else will just be a let-down.” The dirty grin spreading on Sal’s face tells Tommy he’s about to be in trouble. And he’s right.

“We didn’t call my boy here Nine-Inch-Nail in high school for nothin’.”

“Okay, first of all, that is such a lie,” the grin goes impossibly wider, “and second, I am not 9 inches, okay?”

Three sets of eyes wander down to his crotch and if it wasn’t these exact three people, Tommy would be so uncomfortable right now. As it is, he simply huffs and shoves a throw pillow into his lap, crossing his arms like a petulant toddler.

“I’m 8.6.”

Silence.

Then all three of them burst out laughing. He tries to hold on to his petulance, but he only lasts about ten seconds before the corners of his mouth begin to twitch and he finds himself joining in against all odds.

“As I was saying,” Sal hiccups after they’ve all calmed down again, “Buck doesn’t need any other mens’ mole-rats. He only needs Tommy’s giant mole-rat.”

Tommy groans.

“God, I hate you.”

Half past midnight Gina pulls the plug and throws them out. Sal tries to offer him the guest room, but he declines. As much as he loves his best friend’s daughters, he doubts he’ll can be Fun Uncle Tommy in the morning and he hates disappointing them.

As they wait for their Uber to pull up, Tommy feels strong fingers wrap around his wrist and a moment later he’s pulled into a tight hug.

“Don’t fuck up your life like that, Tom, not again. You were finally so happy. And I like you happy. ” Sal’s voice is quiet next to his ear, but there’s a softness to it that is usually reserved for his daughters. Tommy feels his throat close up and he buries his face into Sal’s shoulder.

“I just don’t know how not to, Sallie,” he admits and hates how forlorn it sounds.

How forlorn he feels.

“You trust him. I know it’s the most terrifying thing to do, believe me I do. But you gotta.”

Sal pulls back to catch his eyes, but keeps hold of Tommy’s shoulders.

“This man is the best thing that’s ever happened to you, Tom, and if you give up on what you have now, you will regret it for the rest of your life. But in order to keep it, you need to let him in and you need to trust him to know what he wants. It’s not your place to decide that for him.

And I know you want to let him set the pace, but you can only do that as long as you’re able to keep up. This relationship is about the both of you and if things are moving too fast, you have to tell him that. It’s not fair to either of you if you don’t.

And Tommy, you have to talk to him about your shit.”

Tommy opens his mouth to protest but Sal shuts him up with a shake of his head.

“No buts. Buck isn’t stupid. Do you really think he hasn’t clocked by now that you have trauma? I’m not saying you gotta tell him all of it at once. But you need to start somewhere.”

Sal pulls him back in roughly and presses a kiss to his temple.

 “I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you. He wants to take care of your heart so badly. Let him. Let him love you. All of you.

And if it all goes to shit anyway, you know that I’ll be right here. I always will be.”

Tommy bursts into tears.

It’s 3am when he finally finds himself knocking at the same door he closed behind himself for what he thought would be the last time less than ten hours ago.

It’s telling that it takes Evan just under half a minute to open it. It’s more telling that his eyes are red-rimmed, and he’s still wearing the same clothes.

Evan’s terrible at hiding his emotions, doesn’t even try to most of the time. It’s one of the many things Tommy loves about him.

Right now, he seems to experience all of them at the same time.

Hope, when he opens the door. Relief, when his eyes fall on Tommy in the hallway.

Hurt, anger, fear, concern, fondness, and finally back to hope.

He’s silent. Waiting.

Tommy takes a breath.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

They look at each other, the insecurity and fear hanging between them like a cloud of vapor, so thick Tommy can almost taste it.

But there’s something else, too. Smaller, more fragile, and yet persistent like a moth chasing the light.

It’s the same thing Tommy’s seen in Evan’s eyes earlier.

Hope.

For a time, neither of them moves, as if they’re scared, that if they do it’ll spook and leave them alone in the dark again.

A minute passes. Two.

Somewhere in the building a baby begins to cry.

Evan steps aside.

[tofics]

🥲 With the way my period went last week, this fic was on my brain constantly. But my god, Bug, I needed time to digest this masterpiece. (I've also saved various of your other works in my drafts to comment on later. I apologize for the reblog spam that is about to happen.)

Kay, now. Let's dive in, shall we? 🥰

Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?”

What a sweet, sweet, kind man. If I woke up to a freshly cleaned bathroom while on my period, I'd probably cry.

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”

🥲 Ma'am. I get it. But. The sweet man.

If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 

Sorry, did you say saint??? Saint Joel???

“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.”  “I said yes,” you snap.  Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you.

😫 The disrespect. The bitten cheek. (Loved that bit. His annoyance is growing, but he's still keeping his cool. Again, did someone say saint??)

“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually.

S' OKAY, SWEET BABY. C'MERE. MAMA'S GOT YOU.

“Your glasses broke.”  “Yeah. I see that.”  “I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively. “Right.”  “But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”

Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 

“You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says.

S' okay 🥲 I was a bitch 🥲 I deserve it 🥲 Do with me as you please 🥲🥲🥲

He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.”

“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”

🫡 Sir yes, sir.

“Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.”

I have really bad news for you, then. Ahem.

“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”

Ohhh, he's done done. I just *loved* this bit. The frustration, how fed up he is with the reader. Suddenly you're concerned about causing a little bit of work? Oh, hohoho, no no no. Too fucking late.

Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 

😩 Ma'am. Please. I can only take so much. The hotness in just this ONE paragraph. PLEASE. 😩 "An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary." 🥲 I am a puddle on the floor.

Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name.

🫠🙃🫠🙃

“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.”

“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”

*inhales* - *screams*

He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over… “It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.”

😶 I have died and am now reading this from the depth of hell. Fuuuuck me!

“Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 

The fucking "I know"s kill me. Like, I didn't know two simple words like that could do the things to me that they're doing. But here we are. Is that a kink? Is there an "I know" kink? I think I have it.

“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”

You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?”

😭😭😭 SAY IT WITH ME: JOEL MILLER IS A FUCKING SAINT. A SAINT THAT FUCKS, BUT A SAINT NONETHELESS.

Christ on a cracker, this was delicious from start to finish. I think you have had a lasting impact on how I see (and am trying to write) smut. 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Thank you indeed. 🙌 A masterpiece!!!!

Seeing Red

“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

Joel’s sorry that your period sucks, but he's reached the end of his rope with your attitude. (6k)

Tags - 18+ smut, brat taming, blow jobs, face fucking, rough period sex, fingering, mating press, overstimulation and multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare in the form of a shared bubble bath, all things periods and period symptoms so headaches, breast pain, cramps, irritability that reader takes out on Joel. You will feel so bad for being such a cunt to this man but he gets to fill two of your holes with his cum so it all kind of evens out. takes place in jackson Fic help - @beefrobeefcal and @joelsdagger for all of their love and support and eyeballs, @noxturnalpascal and @endlessthxxghts thank you both for being my compass and giving me direction and helping to make this fic perfect. I love you <3 A/N - if you're on your period, i'm sending you a hug <3 if you're not i'm hugging you too

I was reminded of my friend @covetyou's fic "Sleepless" which is a lovely piece of classic literature, just like the rest of her works, and I'd like to credit her for inspo. Thank you Lo 🤎🩷💚

You should have guessed there’d be a bloodstain in your underwear, but despite the headaches, your sore breasts, and your cramping abdomen, you’re surprised when you’re met with rusty red in your panties. Fucking great, you whisper, dripping with sarcasm, this is not what you needed today. You had so many things you wanted to get done and now you were going to be spending the whole day miserable and in pain.

“Joel,” you loudly call out. You wait a beat, nothing. “JOEL,” you yell louder. 

You hear the faint sound of his recliner, the popping of his knees and the creaking of the stairs as he walks up them. His two feet are visible through the space between the floor and the bathroom door and then he knocks, “Whatcha need, darlin’?”

“New underwear,” you answer. “And a pad. Also in the underwear drawer.” 

Joel walks away and returns with what you’ve asked for and slides both items under the door. You change your panties and secure the pad made of old rags and t-shirts with the clothespin attached to it. “You got it?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“Guessin’ you just started your cycle, then.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Can I get you anything?”

“Nope,” you answer. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.” 

“Alright. I’ll join you, then.” 

 You wash your hands and rinse the bloodstain out of your panties with annoyance in the sink, wringing them out before tossing them in the dirty laundry hamper in the bathroom. When you unlock the door and leave the bathroom, Joel’s already asleep in your shared bed. He sleeps curled on his side and yet he still fucking snores - between that and the pain you’re in, you know it won’t be a restful night of sleep. You look at Joel, sleeping peacefully like a baby, and yet you wanna beat the living fucking crap out of him. You curl your body around his, stealing his body heat to soothe your cramps. 

Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?” 

“Shitty.” You grab at the mirror and Joel’s skin crawls as you touch the glass with your thumb, the smudges left behind from your fingertips clear as day on the freshly cleaned glass. He’ll just touch it up later. You pull out your toothbrush and frown, your nose scrunched in disgust. “It smells like bleach in here,” you complain.

“Well, yeah,” Joel chuckles. “I just cleaned it for ya. ‘Course it smells like bleach.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”

“Oh,” Joel scratches the back of his head and frowns. “M’sorry, then. Well, we can let it air out for a while, we’ll leave the fan on. Shouldn’t smell for more than a day or so.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it. 

He cleans the kitchen first. He washes the dirty dishes you must’ve forgotten about last night and wipes crumbs from the table. As you come downstairs dressed in sweats and a shirt you stole from Joel, he’s finishing up making your breakfast. “Sit down, I made your favorite.” 

You sit down at the table with your head in your hands. Joel puts a plate with two slices of perfectly golden brown toast and two over-easy eggs in front of you, then a fork and a knife on either side. He fills a glass with water for you as well. He walks away to clean up the stove, then turns around to check on you. Your face is contorted in disgust and you’re not eating. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t want this,” you grouse.

“But s’your favorite. You love your eggs over easy,” Joel says. “And the toast, that’s fresh bread and butter. Eat up.” 

“Yeah, but I wanted scrambled.” 

Joel stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded. You usually hate scrambled eggs, and he knows this. But you’re not smirking or holding back laughter like you’re fucking with him. So maybe your tastes have changed, who knows. “Okay. Would you like me to make you scrambled eggs instead, then?”

“Yes,” you mumble in a small voice. 

“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.” 

“I said yes,” you snap. 

Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you. He quickly scarfs down the perfectly cooked eggs and toast as he makes you a new plate of breakfast, this time with scrambled eggs. He places it in front of you with a little less care than before and waits for you to take a bite. “Better?”

“Just okay.” 

‘Just okay’. Of course you think it’s ‘just okay’, they’re scrambled fucking eggs - which you don’t like. You’re just being - 

Joel needs to cool off. Hopefully once you’ve eaten you’re a little less irritable. “I’m gonna head out an’ do some errands. Be back shortly,” He’s met with no answer from you, which he expected. 

-

He comes back an hour or so later with a few things from the market he’s been needing along with a couple of VHS tapes that he rented from the library. “So,” Joel says, “I picked out some movies for ya.” He lays four tapes down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you lay. “When Harry Met Sally, that’s a good one,” he begins, “Next is How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, then Blade Runner, and I picked out My Cousin Vinny,” Joel says. He thinks you’re gonna pick out Blade Runner because it stars Harrison Ford, who he knows you have a thing for. “My Cousin Vinny is pretty good, I don’t think we’ve seen that one yet f’ya wanna give that a try.”

“Mmm, no.” 

Shot down. “Okay. How ‘bout Blade Runner, then. S’got Indiana Jones in -”

“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually. “I wanna watch this one,” you point to How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days. “He’s cute.” 

Of course you picked the Matthew McConaughey movie. God, Joel fucking hated him. He always seemed so skeezy, if there’s anyone who should’ve bit it on Outbreak Day, it should’ve been Matthew McConaughey. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Do you think he’s dreamy too?”

“Fuck off, Joel.” 

So teasing’s off the table too, he’ll add that to the list of things that have pissed you off today. Joel turns on the TV and puts the tape in the VHS player before he sits back down next to you. At first you rest on his shoulder, then you spread out and lay your head on his lap. It’s not long before you fall asleep on Joel, leaving him to watch this dumb fucking movie all by himself because god forbid he move you and disrupt your nap. He knows better than to do that. 

-

“So fuckin’ stupid,” Joel whispers to himself as the movie plays, though he did find himself enjoying the part where the Kate Hudson sings “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. He always did like that song. 

“Mmmm,” you groan, shifting onto your back. Joel’s hand is stroking your hair as you look up at him, but you push it away. “You’re too close to me,” you grumble. 

“What’re you talkin’ about?” 

“You’re crowding me. I feel smothered.” 

Joel scoffs. “Oh, you feel smothered? You’re the one who laid on me.” Once again, your glare is all that you need to say. “Alright then, I’ll move.” Joel concedes. He lifts your head gently and scoots down to the opposite end of the couch. And then he hears you huff. “What?”

“Well, now I don’t have a pillow.” 

Joel sighs as he gets up to grab a throw pillow from the opposite couch. 

“The other one.” 

You’re referring to the other throw pillow that’s absolutely indistinguishable from the one currently in Joel’s hand, but he gets it for you anyway. “Lift your head,” he says softly, putting the pillow under you. He sits back down in the spot you made him move to as you both watch the movie play, but your soft groans interrupt. You’re no doubt in pain from all the cramps right now. “I’ve got somethin’ like a heating pad,” Joel says, looking at you. “S’a big sock filled with rice, I heat it up and use it for neck and back pain. Would that help with them cramps?” You nod without making any effort to meet Joel’s eyes, which he finds a little rude. But still, you’re hurting. He’ll give you grace. 

So, once again, Joel gets up for you. He goes upstairs to get his rice sock from his nightstand, then comes back downstairs and heats it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. He pokes the sock to make sure it’s plenty warm for you and then gives it to you to take. “Here,” he says, “Hold it on your tummy.”

“JESUS,” you yell at him. 

“What?”

“It’s too fucking hot, Joel, why would you make it so hot?” 

 “Just give it a second, sweetheart, you’ll get used to it.” 

“No. It was burning me.” 

“Okay, then let me have it and we’ll let it cool off a minute. Christ almighty.” Joel takes the sock back from you, and he knows his hands are pretty calloused but…it doesn’t feel that hot. When a few minutes have passed, he gives it back to you. “This should be better.” 

You lay the big, warm stuffed sock across your stomach and frown. “It’s not warm enough.” 

“You have gotta be kiddin’ me.” 

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, giving Joel back his sock like you just assume he’ll heat it up again for you. 

“Just a couple minutes ago you screamed bloody murder about it burnin’ you. And now it’s not hot enough?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” When Joel doesn’t jump immediately to reheat the sock for you, you look at him impatiently. “Joel.” 

“You can ask, you know.” 

But Joel gets the hint and gets up for you a third time to reheat the sock he’s letting you borrow. You don’t say please, and when he returns with the sock reheated, there’s no thank you either. What does he get from you? “It’s too hot.”

“Then tell me how I should rectify that for you, because last time I let it cool off and it wasn’t warm enough for ya after.” 

“I don’t know,” you snap. “You’re just really upsetting me right now. Everything hurts and your voice is grating.”

“I’m upsetting you?” Joel repeats your words back to you. “And my voice is grating.” 

“Yes.” 

He’s about at his wits end. “You know, you–” Joel decides not to finish that sentence. Instead, he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out on the count of five. “Two, three, four…You need to drink some water. S’your first issue, you’re probably dehydrated. Did you drink any water?” 

“It’s not your business.”

 Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, well I’m makin’ it my business.” Joel gets up for the fourth goddamn time and slams the cup cabinet before filling a glass with water from the sink. He marches back to the couch, “Sit up,” he says. “Drink.” 

“I don’t want to,” you whine. 

“It’ll fix your headache. Drink.” 

“It won’t actually, that’s a myth.” 

“Right, what do I know when you’ve got an answer for fuckin’ everything. Drink.” 

You sit up, scowling at Joel as you take a sip. 

“All of it.” 

You drink the rest of it, glaring at him the whole time. He’s so full of shit, as if any of what you’re going through could be fixed by drinking a glass of water. Water won’t fix your cramps, won’t fix your aching and sore back. When you’re done, you slam the glass on the end table next to you and in doing so, break Joel’s reading glasses. Oops. Didn’t see those. The lenses aren’t shattered, but one of the arms is all bent now. When you look at Joel, he’s biting his bottom lip and breathing deeply. “Your glasses broke.” 

“Yeah. I see that.” 

“I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively.

“Right.” 

“But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”

“Yeah, right. Shouldn’t leave my glasses on the end table,” Joel says. “I should leave them where, exactly? Maybe the floor?” 

“Somewhere else.” 

“Right. Somewhere else.” 

He’s hoping that by repeating your words back to you, you start to hear how absolutely ridiculous you sound. But you don’t seem to. Joel turns and walks away before he fucking throttles you. 

“Can you put on the next movie? I wanna watch My Cousin Vinny.”

Now, now you want to watch that movie. And Joel’s gonna miss out, because he can’t stand to be around you for one minute longer. “Are your legs broken?” 

“Yes.” 

Walked into that one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible. Fine. I’ll put it on, then I’m goin’ away for a bit.” 

“Good.”

Oh, he could fucking kill you. This whole day he’s heard nothing but complaints from your mouth, no pleases or thank you’s at all. Everything he’s done today has been for you, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck. 

Joel puts on the movie, grabs his bent glasses from the end table and heads out to the garage without saying a single word to you. You wonder what bug crawled up his ass. 

-

My Cousin Vinny plays just fine until Vinny shows up in his ridiculous suit to the courthouse. The tape begins to skip a whole bunch, the movie barely making sense, and you have no idea how to fix it - not that it’s your job to know, anyway. So you call out the name of the man whose job it is. 

“Joel.” 

No answer. 

“JOELLLL,” you yell. 

Same deal. You sigh as you sit up and get off of the couch, walking to the garage door. There’s finally a break in your cramps and you’re feeling halfway-human for the first time since yesterday. Entering the garage, you find Joel sitting at his workbench, he’s working on bending the frame of his glasses back into shape. “Joel.” 

He doesn’t turn around to look at you and in fact, he heard you calling for him. He had just ignored you. “Looks like your legs are workin’ now,” Joel replies, without looking at you. “S’a miracle. Means you can follow me around now, terrific.”

You choose to ignore his sarcasm. “Whatever. You need to do something for me. The VCR is messing up and you have to fix it.”

“Hm,” he hums.

“What’s hm?” 

“I’ve fixed lotsa things for you today,” he says quietly. “I need some time to fix my glasses that you broke. S’a difficult task on account of the fact I need my glasses to see.”

“You can do me one favor, Joel. It won’t kill you.” 

Joel stops and gently places his broken glasses on his work bench. He turns to his right and glares daggers at you. “One favor,” he scoffs. “Oh, you’re a fuckin’ peach. You wanna try that again?”

“Try what again?” 

You’re fucking with him. You have to be fucking with him. Why are you fucking with him? You’re not antagonistic like this, not usually, so he concludes that you must be looking for a fight. At this point, Joel is too. 

“I’ve done you countless favors today, sweetheart,” Joel gripes.

“Yeah, but-” you begin.

Joel’s large, warm hand suddenly covers the lower half of your face, silencing your argument. “If the next words outta this mouth aren’t thank you, then I don’t wanna hear ‘em. In fact…”

He bites his inner cheek, nodding his head as he thinks. The way he stares at you, his dark eyes piercing through you - you feel the chill deep in your bones. A wave of clarity hits you as you recall some of the details of the day, the way Joel was there at every turn and while you were busy being cranky and achey, he was trying to wait on you hand and foot. Shit. You’ve been a Grade-A bitch to him all day, a total fucking cunt.

Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.” 

It’s like you’re watching a scene from a movie. You hear Joel’s words, but you almost don’t believe they’re real and so they don’t quite register. He pulls his hand away from your face slowly. Your mouth falls open a bit but you don’t say or do anything.

“Nod. If. You. Understand.” You nod quickly. Joel awaits your decision as you look at the garage door and contemplate your clean way out from this situation, “So what’ll it be?” he asks. Despite it all, that uneasy feeling in your gut, you drop to your knees anyway, eyes still lingering on the door before you look up at Joel. You trust him to take care of you and you think you might owe him this obedience after your behavior today. “You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says. It should scare you - and it does - but you’re still thrilled by it, by the way he sighs and his knees crack as he gets off of his barstool, by the cold look in his eyes as he reaches under his thick belly to unbuckle his belt. Standing above you, he pulls out his half-hard cock and pumps it, feeling it grow to full length in his hand. He’s thick, veiny, and generously sized, a pearly white bead of precum sits atop his slit. His cock is just an inch or two away from your mouth as he holds it between his fingers, his thumb on top and middle and forefingers on the underside. With his other hand, he cards his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips. “Open.”

You part your lips open and with that, Joel pushes himself into your mouth inch by inch. You smell him first, that musky and heady sort of scent. Next, you taste the saltiness of his skin and his precome on your tongue and for a moment it’s pleasurable, with his cock halfway in your mouth. You wrap your hand around the end of his shaft like you know what he wants but you don’t know, not really - Joel holds your hand in his own and squeezes it so that your knuckles grind against each other a little bit. He pushes himself further and you can’t lick him or savor this like you wanted to, you just feel his cock intruding, sliding into your mouth. Joel’s testing you, making sure that you can handle all of him and if you can’t, you know he’ll make you. 

He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.” 

There’s no gentleness to it, he fucks your mouth heatedly so that you’re drooling and choking on him, your eyes springing with tears as that pressure builds behind them. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “In and out. You ain’t done jus’ ‘cause you’re cryin’.” Your lips are sore with the repeated action, your jaw is aching. He rolls his hips, his cock is deep down your throat as he relishes in your warm, wet mouth and the way it makes him feel. 

“Mmm,” you moan, you’re not sure if the noise is indicative of your pleasure or discomfort.

“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”

Your nose is buried in that thatch of coarse curls as he rocks his hips over and over, his soft and pillowy tummy bouncing against your forehead. You squirm and whine as his tip teases the back of your throat and your mouth feels so full, uncomfortably so. Joel picks up on that. “Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.” 

He’s grunting and groaning, eyes screwed shut as he uses you, pumping in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches with the brutality of the way he fucks your mouth, and just as you think you can’t take anymore, you feel Joel’s cock begin to twitch and pulse. He comes in your mouth without a warning, painting your tongue with his hot spend. It’s salty and bitter and warm on your tongue. Once you’ve swallowed, Joel reaches down and yanks you up by your bicep. He thought fucking your mouth and coming down your throat would make him feel better but honestly, it doesn’t. As he looks at your face, all puffy with tears and swollen lips, he can’t quite find it in himself to let go of his anger. Not yet, at least. “Let’s go,” he grunts as he drags you with him towards the garage door. He marches you though the house and up the stairs. 

“Where are we going?”

“Bedroom,” Joel growls, answering your question like it’s obvious. You suppose it should be, but you figured he was done with you. But he’s not. The regret begins to set in when you realize the retribution you’re about to be met with for the way you’ve treated Joel today. You’d be lying if you said that while wallowing in your pain you didn’t notice how your curt tone got under his skin, hurt his feelings and frustrated him immensely. The dread you feel can’t save you, it’s all too late now. 

 “Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

“Fuck me,” you whisper. 

“Exactly.” 

Joel pushes you into the bedroom and locks the door behind himself. “Lie down on your back,” he says. 

You protest, “But the sheets, Joel. The blood–”

“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”

When you don’t jump at his request, Joel takes initiative. He pulls off your - his - shirt from your body and then bends you over the end of the neatly made bed, the old and worn comforter feels rough on the skin of your cheek. Joel pulls down your sweatpants and panties in one motion and then flips you over onto your back, your legs hanging off the end of the bed. You feel embarrassed when you catch a glimpse of your bloodied pad and underwear, moreso when you feel yourself making a mess on his bedding and between your legs. 

“You didn’t make yourself come today, did you?”

“Uhh–” you stutter. “I - I…”

“No point in gettin’ bashful now, darlin’. Just gimme an answer.”

“No,” you tell him. It’s been a while. 

“Figures.”

Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary. 

Joel undresses himself before pushing your thighs apart and hitching your legs around his waist. Slowly, he slides his thumb through your folds and then circles your clit. He knows you’re vulnerable like this - bleeding pussy on display for him as you make a mess of his sheets. But he’s patient, and he massages your clit calmly until you finally let a moan, a little mmm slip. He smirks at that. 

He pushes his middle two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. He then curls his fingers, searching for that sweet spot on a woman he loves so much. “Fuck,” you cry out, legs instinctually closing shut around him, and he knows he’s found it. 

“Don’t fight it,” he says, opening you back up. He curls his fingers and circles your clit in tandem, making all sorts of lewd noises with your cunt. He admires your body all laid out for him like this, your breasts and your pebbled nipples, soft tummy rising and falling with your breathy oh’s and ahh’s, thick curls framing your pretty pussy like a picture just for him. Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name. 

Joel pulls his fingers from your core and wipes them haphazardly on his own torso. “Joel,” you gasp when you feel the thick head of his cock at your entrance.

“I am sorry,” he begins, notching his tip inside you and popping it out. He slides the blunt head through your folds and over your clit, then taps the sensitive part of you with himself. “That you’re in pain. It isn’t fair and I know that. But you’ve done nothing but take your hurt out on me.” He presses himself inside you again, “I’ve got a half a mind to take my own hurt out on you, y’know.” His voice is dark and angered, but he speaks calmly in a way that contrasts the darkness but maintains his authority all the same. “And I think I’m gonna.”

“Joel, I– ”

“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.” 

 You obey his rule and nod, yes.

He drags his cock up and down your cunt again, the soft skin of your labia rubbing so nicely against his thickness. He notches himself inside you over and over again, pushing in a little bit deeper each time and pulling back out. You whine, rolling your hips in search of more. “I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”

Yes. You nod again. Quiet.

“S’right,” he says. “Good girl.”

With that, Joel pushes his leaking cock into you entirely, one gradual slide that has you sucking in a breath that comes out in a strained sort of whimper. His hard, warm shaft parting your insides, filling you whole. Joel hears it in the way that you sigh, that this, this is what you needed. He rocks his hips once, twice. Experiments with shallow thrusts, inching his way in and out of you before he draws out of your pussy entirely only to thrust himself right back in, deeper and harder than before. 

With the fullness of Joel inside of you, everything seems to melt away - all that anger, misplaced or not. Joel’s rhythmic thrusting soothes you, sort of. The soreness of your body, the aching cramps in your abdomen are all gone as you focus on the in and out, the in and out. He builds a comfortable pace, but one that borders on too much too soon. His hands on your waist, pulling you towards him as he pushes into you in equal measure. 

He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over…

“It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.” Joel reaches for your breasts, harshly squeezing the tender, sore flesh. You wince in pain and he loosens his grip, focusing on your nipples instead. He twists and flicks the sensitive buds and your moans become louder, more high pitched. Joel fucking loves it when that happens, you never realized. 

“Oh, Joel,” you moan, “Yeah, fuck.” 

With one hand still teasing your nipples, he brings the other to your pussy. A few strokes of his thumb on your clit is all it takes to send you over the edge a second time, wanton moans and choked sobs spilling from your lips as he fucks you through it. 

And fucks you, and fucks you. 

And keeps fucking you. 

It doesn’t end, he doesn’t slow himself and you never feel that come down, that descent from pleasure. It keeps going, like pressure with nowhere to go and you feel like you might break. “I can’t, I need you to stop, stop, Joel.”

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, thrusting still. “You can take it, be a good girl. Gonna fuck you good and deep like you need. You brought this on yourself, anyway. Two more.” 

This whole time, he doesn’t stop. It’s so much at once and when you thought it was going to end, it doesn’t. Tears of overstimulation spring in your eyes and flow freely down your cheeks. Joel lets you cry because he knows you need it, he knows the release is good for you. You poor thing, how much you must be feeling right now, both physically and mentally. “It’s too much, Joel, I can’t,” you plead.

 “Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.” 

It’s the way you look at Joel that causes him to cave, eyes all wide and tear-stained. You’re spent and he knows it, what with all that your body’s put you through. You’ve had a rough day and though he did too, he can’t help but feel sympathy for you at this moment. “Oh, my sweet girl. What am I gonna do with you, hm?”

“I don’t know,” you sniffle. 

“Know you don’t, ‘n you don’t have to. S’my job,” he soothes. With his clean hand, he traces the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “How about this, then - what are we gonna do next time you’re not feeling so good?” 

“I’m - I’m–”

“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “Yeah, I remember.”

 “But you forgot ‘em the whole day today,” Joel says softly. “I think you gotta learn to compromise, too,” he adds. The guilt had begun to set in before, but you really start to feel the burn now. You were unkind to Joel, and he’s been nothing but sweet, doting on every one of your needs. “I think an apology’s in order for the way you treated me today.” 

He’s right, and you know it. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Joel.”

“Oh, I know you are. You just needed the reminder, s’okay,” You hadn’t even noticed how his thrusting had slowed to a still until it picks up again slowly, as he presses kisses to you. Your cheeks first, then your lips. “I’ll compromise too - I’m only gonna make you come one more time, not two. Sound good? Sound fair?”

“I don’t think I can, Joel…”

“Yeah, you can, s’the last one. Take it good for me,” he encourages. “Take it good.” 

That’s what he repeats as his thrusts build again, fucking you deeply. Take it good, take it good for me. He hikes you up further on the bed and joins you so that he’s no longer standing at the floor, he’s got you pressed in half instead, your knees on either side of your chest and your feet above his shoulders. This angle intensifies everything and he knows, oh he knows how much it is for you. You’re tired, sore, overstimulated. But you’ll be done soon, he’ll be done with you soon. He takes your hand and wedges it between your bodies, pressing your own fingers to your clit, “Let go for me, I wanna feel you let go for me,” he says. “Focus right here. You’re gonna come with me, keep your eyes on me…”

You don’t even have to massage your clit, the way Joel angles himself has his body doing all the work, his pubic bone adding pressure to your fingers adding pressure to your clit. It’s intense, all of it - deeply energetic, overwhelming. You can’t quite discern your orgasm as it builds, there’s no definitive start but it’s powerful, devastating almost. Washing over you in waves, you feel it in the base of your spine first. You feel it in your gut, the backs of your thighs all the way to your toes. You hardly register that he’s coming with you, filling you deep with his come. His jaw is clenched tight and he’s groaning, grunting as he milks himself in you.

He leaves you there, whimpering, twitching on the bed. You hear the faint sound of running water, you figure he’s washing himself off. You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?” 

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “Yes. Please.” 

Joel sits in the tub first, spreads his legs and welcomes you to sit between them. He washes the blood from your poor, sensitive core and your thighs, washes it from his own body as well. When he’s done, he pulls you back into his chest and his hands find your breasts. “They’re tender, huh,” he murmurs into the side of your head. 

“Super, yeah. Sore.” 

“I’ll bet,” he says. He gently massages the tissue for you, his strong hands working you out in a way you can’t quite do. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

Joel chuckles. “Bout fuckin’ time you thanked me,” he says. “You’re welcome.” 

If you enjoyed, please reblog with thoughts, leave me a comment, or send me an ask! Your words motivate me to keep writing for you all 🩷

Least helpful cats award goes to these two 👇 if you’ve ever wondered what takes me so long to put fics out, it’s this. I try to write and I’m cockblocked by these fuzzballs.

[cosmicalily]

"pilates princess" a changbin oneshot by @cosmicalily

author's note: i was talking to @thevampywolf this morning about how there's a proper lack of changbin fluff fics on tumblr atm and i decided to make it my mission of the day to change that! i absolutely love binnie, he's the silliest, sweetest guy and i was thinking of how to blend his gym obsession with his adorable personality, and a (very much so in love) pilates princess was born!!

Seo Changbin did not have time for girls.

According to his roommate, Han Jisung, his one and only true love was the gym, where he spent almost every spare second of his day. His diet consisted of protein powder, chicken breasts, green smoothies and instant ramen. He only drank cold brews with absolutely no sugar, because he couldn’t stand sweet things. 

He was pretty quiet and some would say intimidating. Didn’t say a lot, didn’t do a lot.

But now, watching you, he felt something different. He felt strange. He felt soft.

Changbin looked over at you curiously from the bench press, pausing to catch his breath for a moment as you stretched your body like a cat, toes pointed, shoulders straight.

Dressed in a pale pink sports bra with a matching long-sleeved ballet wrap and black leggings, to say you looked a little out of place in a predominantly male gym was an understatement. Your hair was pulled back with a ribbon, a sticker-decorated drink bottle by the side of your mat and an iced milky-green drink beside it.

You breathed slowly, stretching your arms forward and touching your toes before sitting straight, cocking your head at your one-man audience.

“Why are you watching me?” you wrinkled your nose in disgust, self-consciously placing a hand over your chest. “I’m here for the exact same reason as you, it’s not my fault the girls’ dorms don’t have a gym.”

Changbin flushed. “I’m sorry. It probably seemed creepy, fuck, it’s not, I promise. I’m just . . . curious. What were you doing? I’ve never seen anyone exercise like that. Everyone who comes in either beats the shit out of the boxing bag or lifts.”

“Pilates,” you smiled, looking less uncomfortable. “I got my instructing licence a bit ago, but the place I teach at is only open in the mornings. So if I’ve had an early class or lecture and want to work out in the afternoon, I have to come here. Trust me, I wouldn’t be here voluntarily. You guys are gross.”

He pouted. “I’m not. I’m cute.” 

“Yeah, sure you are, princess,” you chuckled, taking a sip from the green drink. You noticed him looking at it. “It’s matcha, do you want some?”

“Fuck no, my friend said that tastes like grass,” Changbin shook his head furiously.

You laughed at him, inching the cup closer to him. “C’mon, try a sip. You’ll like this one, it’s sweet. I always get vanilla in it since I can’t stand bitter drinks.”

He very cautiously leaned forward, looking at you carefully in case you recoiled when he pressed his lips on the straw. You didn’t, seeming less and less shy by the second, watching him eagerly as he swallowed.

“...and the verdict is?” you prompted.

“Where can I get my own?”

Jisung looked around Changbin’s room in shock, eyes comically wide as he took in his surroundings. Sure, it had been a week while he’d been staying with his parents, but surely Changbin’s life hadn’t changed so . . . drastically? Or had he somehow been invaded by some kind of pink fairy?

A pale pink sports bra lay strewn on Changbin’s bed, accompanied by a pair of soft grey flared leggings and a drink bottle. There was a handbag too, with ribbons and cute fluffy keychains, all belongings that most certainly were not his. But there were slightly more permanent looking changes, too. A pink MyMelody sticker on Changbin’s previously pristine laptop. A little beaded bow charm on his duffle bag. Two polaroids pinned above his bed; one of a girl making a kissy face, another of her with Changbin, pinching his cheek as he beamed at her adoringly.

Did Seo Changbin have a girlfriend?

And why wasn’t she a black-donning, gym obsessed weirdo like he was?

“Oh hi, Ji, you’re back!” Changbin smiled wide, something that Jisung swore he had never seen in all his time being his roommate. Or at least, not for a very long time. But Changbin had a whole different air about him; his body, although still buff, didn’t seem as tense as it usually was. His brow wasn’t furrowed and there was colour in his cheeks. And, for the love of God, had he blow dried his hair?

Jisung smiled back. “Hey, Bin. What are you drinking? New protein powder?”

“It’s a vanilla matcha, you should try it,” he handed it to Jisung, who took a tentative sip then stared, open-mouthed in shock.

“That’s . . . sweet.”

“No shit,” Changbin laughed at him, thumping his friend on the back. “It’s good, right? Y/N introduced me to them.”

Jisung handed it back, still suspicious that the real Seo Changbin had been abducted and that the man in front of him was a secret twin. “Oh, nice. Is that her stuff in your room?”

“Sure is,” a sweet voice chuckled from behind Changbin. A petite girl flew through the door, wrapping her arms tight around Changbin’s waist. “I’m Y/N, Jisung. It’s nice to finally meet you! Binnie’s told me so much about you two.”

Jisung raised an eyebrow. “And you’re . . . ?”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Changbin said proudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah, but he’s the babygirl. Everyone knows that,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “He’s a pilates princess now, Jisung, I’ve converted him. Surprised he wasn’t doing it earlier; it’s very him, you know.”

Jisung blinked slowly, taking in the sight in front of him.

“Seo Changbin? A princess?” he mumbled.

“Sure I am,” Changbin shrugged, and Jisung promptly fainted in shock.

[papaya-twinks]

get over it! - l.n - p.2

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mental breakdown, breaking glass.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - sorry this took so long, I was doing all Lando’s birthday ones x

parts 🧡

Time Skip - Formula One Baku Grand Prix Pre-Race

Baku had always been a city of contrasts—historical yet modern, chaotic yet beautiful. And today, it felt like the perfect reflection of Lando's mood as he walked down the paddock, his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, jaw clenched tight.

Since your little ‘incident’ with Lando at Qualifying, you’d made sure to steer well out of his way. You would rather not be blamed for his driving by Zak or Andrea anyhow. It did slightly piss off the mechanics on Lando’s side of the garage, however.

Your energy was something that helped a lot of them to keep going, and now you were steering clear of Lando’s while side of the garage. You hadn’t even noticed him sliding into Oscar’s garage, as you handed around drinks.

“Y/N,” he said, tapping you on the shoulder, your shoulders immediately raising defensively, your head turning away from, signalling your dislike in speaking to him. “Y/N," he pressed, this time with more urgency. "Can we talk?"

You shook your head, still not looking at him. "I don’t think there’s anything left to say,” you said simply, handing some of Oscar’s mechanics some drinks. "You’re avoiding me," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. "You can’t just walk away, not after what happened,” he said firmly.

“Yes I can, besides, why do you even care? It’s not like you to do so,” you said, placing your tray down, taking some new cups from the stack. “Some of my mechanics are pissed about you not being in the garage and stuff,” he mumbled, slightly annoyed.

“Oh, and they made you drag your ass here to ask?” you asked, a scoff on your lips as Lando rolled his eyes. “Sorry for asking you to do your own damn job,” he snapped, his voice filling with the frustration and bite from earlier.

“Let me do my fucking job, and stop talking to me, then,” you said, your voice with equally as much spite as you glared at him, his jaw set firm, eyes narrowed. You rolled your eyes, walking past him, your chin held high - so what if he was a driver? He didn’t own you!

You’d had many fights with Lando, countless, some of them about such minor things, you almost laughed when you looked back at them. Of course, there was a time, even after the Sochi incident, where maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he could have forgiven you.

But then again, it was Lando Norris. He’d do anything just to fuck shit up.

Flashback - 2021 Mexican Grand Prix

It had started innocently enough - a late-night discussion about his diet. He had asked you to double-check his hydration formula before heading to the gym. You’d pointed out that it didn’t seem balanced, that he'd been skipping meals. He’d brushed it off like it was nothing. But that was just the start. 

“Why do you always act like you know better?” he had snapped, voice low but cutting. “I’m the one racing out there. You’re just a helper,”. His words stung. You didn’t respond immediately, too shocked by the sudden shift in his tone. But when you did, your voice was tight with restraint.

“Just a helper?” you’d repeated, incredulous. “I’ve been working with you for years, Lando. Don’t act like I don’t know how to do my job,” you had said, your voice edged with a hint of shock and hurt. “You don’t work with me, Y/N, you’re not on my level, you won’t ever be on my level. You work for the team, at least get it right,”.

“You can’t just skip meals and expect your hydration to be perfect,” you had replied, a little more firmly. “Your body needs food to process all the fluids properly. If you’re running on empty, no amount of water is going to make a difference.”

“I’m fine,” Lando shot back immediately, his tone defensive. “I told you, I’m good. I just didn’t feel like eating. It’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice becoming more and more frustrated. Why couldn’t he understand what you were saying? And why did all your arguments have to be centred around water?

For a moment, it seemed like Lando was going to say something else, but instead, he crossed his arms, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “I don’t need a babysitter, Y/N. I’m not a child. I know how to do my job,” he had said, his eyes narrowed once more.

The words hit harder than they should have. You’d been working with him for quite a while, supporting him in every way you could, and this was the first time you felt like he didn’t appreciate it. “I never said you were,” you had said, your voice cold now, your patience worn thin.

“But when you start acting like a diva and skipping meals while I’m the one having to pick up the pieces, then yeah, maybe I do need to step in,” you said, your jaw set firmly and your eyes narrowed. Lando opened his mouth to retort, but you turned away before he could, your back to him as you grabbed your tablet from the table.

Your hands had been shaking with frustration, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “I don’t have time for this right now,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “I’ve got a hundred other things to do,” you moved to his door, only stopped by his voice.

He didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his eyes on you. After a long, charged silence, he finally spoke. “You think I’m just acting like a diva, huh?” he asked, his voice colder than you would have thought, sharp and almost like a snarl.

“Im not the one who fucking acts like I run the whole team off my own back - all you do is give water to people, Y/N, you’re useless!” he snapped, his voice raising as you flinched. “Useless? I’m not-,” you started, your own voice becoming louder.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N! You think, just coz a few people like you, that you’re the one managing this whole team? You don’t do shit, Y/N, you’re not important! People would be sad you left your day or two and forget about it, okay? You’d be replaced in an instant, you have no skill!”.

All of this. Over a water plan. “I…fuck you, Lando,” you said, your eyes brimming with tears, voice cracking as you stepped out the door, not even sparing him a glance as you rushed away from him,”

Present Time - Formula One Baku Grand Prix

Sure, you were pissed at Lando, but it really wasn’t fair to take it out on the whole team, do, begrudgingly, you dragged yourself to Lando’s side of the garage to hand out refreshments, much to the relief of the mechanics and engineers.

Just imagining if Sochi had never happened in 2021, or you’d never said the comment that you’d said, it would’ve been some different, and you would’ve been cheering and going crazy with the team, watching Lando climb higher and higher from his low position.

You could practically feel the tension radiating off of Lando’s car, the stress of a potential championship fight that could be washed away due to one bad qualifying session, or the struggles of getting through to at least a points playing position, everyone was on edge.

Lando had a lot of positions to make up if he wanted to salvage his weekend, or at least begin to try and gain some points. And boy, did he make up positions. One after another, he passed car after car, refusing to let the mistake of qualifying 16th define his race. He was determined to prove himself.

As the race wore on, Lando's mood lifted. Every overtake, every clean pass, brought him closer to his goal. He had no idea what position he was in now—he was just racing, just pushing harder than he ever had. When the final laps came, he found himself fighting for 4th. And when he crossed the line, there it was: 4th place.

But all you could do was bury it deep inside of you and push Lando out of your mind - sometimes there were times when you wished you could have screamed and cheered with the team, like in Miami. But you had Oscar’s current winning margin to distract you from the hurt in the pit of your belly.

Time Skip - Post Race - Baku

The mechanics jostled round the garage, all talking, but slowly leaving, exiting the garage as the sky darkened, a pale shade of greyish-blue, a colour you found quite beautiful actually. Like a reflection of the ocean, in some ways.

“Why are you still here?” a voice snapped you from your train of thought, ruining what was otherwise quite a peaceful movement, your gaze forced sway from the clouds. “None of your business,” you scoffed, picking up your drinks tray from the side as Lando stared.

“I mean, kinda is,” he replied, his nose scrunched distastefully, like you were something or someone lower than him, which was how he perceived you anyways. “Everyone else has gone home,” he pointed out.

“Cheers Captain Obvious,” you said sarcastically, the glasses tinkling on your tray, some with lines of red wine at the bottom, beams of white from the lights above reflecting off the glass. “Whatever,” Lando said, his voice nearly a mumble as he dug he is hands into his pockets.

“Look, I’d appreciate if you stayed the fuck out of my way,” Lando said sarcastically, “I can’t stand your stupid presence,” he snapped, “there’s nothing to fucking be so happy about, I can’t have you annoyingly positive energy around all the time,”.

“Excuse me?” you said, not quite sure what to say after that little outburst of his came from. “You heard me, you’re stupidly positive and all you do is frolic around with that stupid little tray of yours,” Lando snapped, pushing the tray out of your hand, the plate clattering onto the floor, the glasses shattering at your feet.

“Lando, what the fuck is your issue?!” you half-screamed, scrambling away from the shards of glass scattered on the floor, cutting at the soles of your sneakers. “Just….fuck off, okay?!” he said, his curls a messy heap on his head, his eyes wild.

He looked on the verge of a full breakdown as you stared, in shock at the whole thing. He’d been fine a few seconds ago, what the hell had happened? “Lando, I didn’t-,” you started, raising your hands almost in surrender.

“I don’t care, I don’t care, Y/N!” he covered his ears, “Just fuck off!”. You said nothing, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stumbled back, away from the glassy heap on the floor, and rushing away from the garage. You’d never seen Lando break down before.

Was he…Was he okay?

[madlori]

Facebook Official

whoops my hand slipped and I banged out 1800 words of fix-it fic in like an hour. btw i think the Abby connection is dumb but I'm making it work.

Three years after reconciling with Buck, newly engaged to him, Tommy gets a phone call from a certain former dispatcher...who's just seen some interesting news via a Facebook Relationship Status post.

*****

(also on AO3)

To say that the phone call blindsided him would have been the understatement of the century.

He was just sitting at home watching the game, having a beer, minding his own business. Evan was on shift — must be a busy one, he’d only gotten two text messages all evening, one bitching about not having had time to eat dinner and the other about idiots who texted while driving.

His phone rang. Unknown number. Normally he wouldn’t have picked up, but with all the wedding preparations, a lot of vendors were calling. It was a little late to be making business calls, just after 8 pm, but he’d quickly learned that business norms meant little in the wedding planning business. “Hello?”

“Tommy?”

“Yes?” A woman’s voice. Familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

Pause “You’re marrying Buck??” A slightly hysterical note of disbelief entered the woman’s voice as she said the name.

And all at once, he knew who it was. Shit fuck motherfucker why didn’t we get ahead of this one.

“Abby. Um…”

“Evan Buckley? My ex-fiancé and my ex-boyfriend are marrying each other?”

“Small world, huh?” he said, going for levity.

“Buck’s not even gay!”

“No, he’s not. He’s bisexual.”

“I’m…okay. I’m sorry, it’s just…this is a lot of information to get all at once.”

“How did you even find out? Don’t you live in Phoenix?”

“Buck posted one of those relationship status things on Facebook.”

“Oh. I barely use Facebook.”

“Me either, but Buck does, and I hadn’t been on there in awhile, but I logged on and that was like the third post I saw!”

Tommy remembered the day Buck had made the post. They hadn’t really put their relationship on social media much - Buck posted photos of them on Instagram sometimes - and he hadn’t done one of those stupid relationship status things for them until they got engaged. They’d trawled their phones for the right pic, eventually settling on one taken at a 118 barbecue of them together, smiling, arms slung around waists. He hadn’t said so, but he’d gotten a little emotional over what Evan wrote on the post:

Evan Buckley is engaged to Tommy Kinard.

“It’s been a long road, but we made it. Can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with this man. He’s the best person I’ve ever known. I love you!”

“Well…I’m sorry that was an unpleasant surprise for you,” Tommy said, carefully.

She sighed. “I don’t know that it was…unpleasant. But a surprise, for sure. How do you even know Buck? How did you meet?”

“We’re both firefighters, it’s not that surprising that we could have met, is it?”

“No, I guess not.”

“And he was at my old firehouse. The one you refused to ever come to. But I guess you went when you were with him, didn’t you?”

“You never wanted me to meet your friends. I guess I found out why when you broke off our engagement.”

“I’m sorry, Abby. I know I said it then, but I’ll say it again now. I lied to myself, I lied to a lot of people. It took me almost trapping you in my lie, when you did not deserve that, to break me out of it.”

“I forgave you ages ago. We don’t have to go over all that again.”

“I met Evan…I guess it’s four years ago? We started dating not long after. I, um…was the first man he dated. I guess I made him realize some things about himself.”

“Just transforming lives everywhere you go, huh?” she said, a teasing note entering her voice. Tommy was happy to hear it.

“Yeah, well, I almost screwed it up. I broke up with him six months later. He was diving in headfirst, too fast, just all in and wanting to move in with me.”

“That sounds just like Buck.”

“I panicked and ended it before I could get in any deeper with him.”

“It was too late, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. I was already in love with him.”

“He’s easy to love. Too easy,” she said, quietly. “But you got back together, obviously.”

“Took a little while. Almost a year. I dated a few guys, he dated a few people, but nothing stuck for either of us - I know now it’s because we were still hung up on each other. We have a friend in common and we’d hear about each other through him…but I didn’t really see him until we ended up on a major incident call together. I sustained a minor injury - just a scrape, really - and Hen from his house patched me up. I was sitting there on the ambulance deck, more or less left to myself, and he came waltzing up with that eyebrow raised like he knew all my secrets.” Abby chuckled, like she knew the exact expression he was describing. “He just said, are you done being fucking stupid yet?”

“And you were.”

“Yep. I was. He took me home that night and we’ve barely been apart since. Got engaged a year later.”

“You sound happy.”

“I am. I’m ecstatic. I can’t believe I got a second chance with him. I kicked myself for ending it like that, I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do. You thought you weren’t enough for him to want to keep you.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s dumb.”

“That’s what he says.”

They sat there not speaking for what felt like a long time.

“Well…” Abby said. “I feel like I just unloaded on you out of the blue.”

“You kinda did,” he said, smiling.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have called.”

“I’m glad you did. You know…Evan and I didn’t realize we had you in common until our six month anniversary dinner. In fact, it was that revelation that sort of started us on the way to breaking up for awhile. But that’s been so long now and it hasn’t come up in a few years. I almost forgot about it.”

“Gee, thanks,” she said, her grin audible. “I’m glad you’re both happy. I have a lot of regret over Buck, how I left things with him. I assume he’s told you.”

“He has. If it helps, he doesn’t have any bad feelings towards you.”

“It does help. Thank you for that.” She sighed. “I’ll let you go. I just saw that Facebook post and spiralled a little bit.”

“Understandable.”

“Please tell Buck I say hello. And I wish you both so much happiness, Tommy.”

“Thank you. And I will.”

She hung up. Tommy stared at the phone for a moment, then opened his text message thread with Evan.

You’re not gonna believe what just happened.

*****

When Evan got home at 7 am, they had their usual two hours to share breakfast and maybe a quick fuck before Tommy had to be on shift himself. They tried to sync their schedules so their off days coincided, but it didn’t always work.

“Holy shit, why didn’t we get ahead of that one?” Evan said as he burst in the door, not even bothering with “hello.” His shoes and duffel went flying and he bustled into the kitchen where Tommy was mixing the pancake batter.

“Yeah, I had the same thought,” he said, leaning over to kiss him hello.

Evan went to the coffee pot. “I didn’t even think about it, that she might see.”

“Neither did I.”

“How’d she sound?”

“Really surprised at first. Incredulous, even? Like in the what-are-the-odds way.”

“Kinda like when I found out we’d both dated her.”

“Yeah, but you’re my himbo now,” Tommy said, smirking. “No, she was just shocked. I gave her the quick rundown, and she ended up congratulating us.”

“Did you tell her it’s her fault we broke up for a year?” Evan said, popping a strawberry into his mouth.

“I think the proper person to bear the fault is me.”

“And also me. Who asks someone to move in after six months? Before even saying ‘I love you?’ And when you had a house!”

“I say we blame Josh. He got you all juiced up with that damn Glee speech.” After they’d reconciled, Evan had given him chapter and verse on his mind-boggling thought processes on that last fateful day.

“He got me feeling guilty, is what he did. That I judged you for lying to Abby. Overcorrecting is one of my special gifts.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, while I’m overcorrecting…why don’t we invite her?”

Tommy looked up. “To our wedding?”

“Sure, why not? She can flip a coin whose side she sits on,” Evan said, grinning like the mischievous imp that he was.

“Evan, darling, love of my life, we are not inviting our ex to our wedding.”

He scrunched up his face. “Ew. ‘Our’ ex? Makes it sound like we were in a throuple.”

“Ew, indeed.”

He cocked his head. “I dunno, though. The thought’s kinda sexy.”

“Not to me! No vaginas anywhere near my bedroom. Kinsey 6, remember?”

“Of course, my apologies.”

Tommy looked at his innocent wide-eyed face for a few beats. “You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“Can I help it if the thought of two people I have found intensely attractive doing sexy things is appealing?”

“Can I help it if the thought of Chris Hemsworth going down on you has gotten me through some lonely nights?”

“Okay, I get the point. Shutting up now.” 

Tommy put a plate of pancakes in front of him. “Your shift okay?”

“Fine. Busy. I’m a bit wired. Do we have time for me to bounce on your dick for a bit before you have to head out?”

“For that, I’ll make time.” He sat down at the table at Evan’s side with his own pancakes. Evan slid a hand over and squeezed his thigh.

“Missed you, though,” he said, chewing.

“I always miss you when you’re on shift,” Tommy said.

Evan looked up at that, meeting his eyes. “Tommy, sometimes I miss you when you get up to get a beer.”

The simplicity, the sincerity of it made his chest tighten a little. He leaned forward, put his fingers under Evan’s chin and pulled him into a soft kiss, just like the first time. “I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you, too.”

“And we are not inviting my ex-fiancee who is also your ex-girlfriend to our wedding.”

Evan grinned. “Deal.”

[kendrawontfindmehere]

“my feelings don’t change with the winds”

“fuck that house”

“in my opinion, you’re guilty as shit”

“she must be leaving for her own selfish needs or she’s guilty of something”

“no one wanted your ass, i was the best thing that ever happened to you”

“i’m sorry, i understand if you don’t trust me anymore”

“why do you think i spent all that time and money on you? what did you think that was?”

“you’re my soulmate, my lover, my best friend”

“you make me feel like complete shit”

“she needs the emotional support of the entire house just to do dishes”

“she’s fat and lazy and needs to get a job” *i was pregnant.

“you need to step up and be the mother you should have been”

“why does it matter to you if we talk?”

“i don’t need to know that”

“everyone is chronically ill and has chronic pain and is always tired”

“you sound/look/dress/laugh/act/cope just like your mother”

“you need to get a job and start getting it together”

“you need to get a job and stop asking for handouts and stop taking shortcuts”

“i know. i’ve heard you cry yourself to sleep and cry in your sleep a lot through the walls”

“he would never do that and i’ll believe my husband first”

“no, nothing’s going on between us- i promise”

i still repeat the things u said to me in my head

[justin-chapmanswers]

Hey Justin! Quick question (okay maybe not so quick after I write this),

What are you and the other guys’s (Adam and Brian) thoughts and plans after you release II S2 E18? Are you planning to do anything with the characters after it?

What are your thoughts on (I don’t want to say ending oh my goodness) finishing? this season. Is there going to be anything else or are you just done for good. (NOT IN A MEAN WAY IM SORRY)

I’m just curious since I’ve been hyperfixating on II for a while now, and I’ve been working up courage to just ask my idol a quick thing but AAAGGGHHH WHO KNEW HOW SCARY IT IS.

Anyways, I hope you’re having a great day or night, and hope you aren’t overwhelmed or overworking yourself.

AAAGAGGHHHH BYEEE STAY SAFE HUBFRBFHURBFHURDR

- 💙 Queer ahh anon (OKAY IM SORRYHUCNFUHFR)

Hihi! Thank you for the sweet words.

Unfortunately I can't give a clear answer right now, because it's so up-in-the-air. We've thrown around ideas for II and non-II things. It really comes down to what inspires us most after this season has wrapped. If there's a big II story still to tell, we'll tell it. If something else calls to us, then we'll turn in that direction.

I don't have a lot of time to search it out, but I'm sure there must be at least one or two asks on this subject from a long time ago in which I responded with like "it would definitely be a very different world after this season" and I'm sure you can see why already haha.

I would be sad if I had to say bye to II forever after this, though. Whether or not there's anything more, season two's finale is written so that it could be an ending. So we'll seeeee.

[certifiedsexed]

hey there! i don’t mean this in bad faith at all, and i’m not trying to use a term that’s a fascist dogwhistle. i promise i’m just confused😭

so i’m not a guy, nor have i ever been perceived as one, but in one of your recent posts, you said that men can’t experience oppression solely based on the fact that they’re men. which was kind of confusing to me — i don’t think you’re wrong, i think it’s me but i don’t know how to get to how you see it like that.

because in my experience, men can experience oppression because they’re men, although i don’t know if i’m saying that right or conflating the meanings of certain terms. i’m probably wrong, and would just love some clarification?

for example, my brother and i were always held to different standards growing up — it was expected of me to always cry and be emotional, and i was a ‘stone cold bitch’ if that wasn’t the case, but if my brother wanted to show negative emotions like sadness he was treated like there was something wrong with him too. and i know it wasn’t my brother — i spend a lot of time working with my high school’s diversity team, and in a lot of the events we organise, guys talk about how they feel enormous pressure to be angry and never sad, and to have stereotypically masculine interests and never deviate from that norm.

i also know men who’ve struggled to get jobs such as teaching as those are viewed as ‘female’ jobs and it’s a common view that men who want those jobs are ‘only in it to be around kids’. i’ve heard many women around me perpetuate sentiments like that, so i know they’re not making it up, even if it isn’t equal to the systematic oppression women face in almost every aspect of their careers.

i’m not providing these examples to prove you wrong, since i do think you’re right. i’m hoping that a window into the way i’ve always thought might help you clarify this in a way that can help me to change my mind, since i just think i’m lacking some clarity or context here. i think i’m conflating abuse and stereotypes with oppression, but i’m really not sure. any advice would be really appreciated!

i’m so sorry if this comes off badly, i don’t mean it that way. i’m just trying to learn, i promise i’m not trying to promote the kind of hate and close mindedness you’ve been seeing in your inbox as of late.

Hi! As always, I do not mind answering genuine questions!

The things you're talking about growing up and seeing boys around you pressured to present only certain emotions, that's part of the patriarchy!

Certain emotions are supposed to be "feminine" and thus boys shouldn't show them, while girls are often always considered "emotional" in some fashion. That's not oppression based on those boys being men that you're talking about.

It's the backlash that the patriarchy, and by addition trans/misogyny has on men. It's boys being pressured not to show certain emotions because those emotions are "feminine" and they're supposed to associate feminimity with weakness and shit.

What you're talking about there is also trans/misogyny!

The idea that men who do things perceived as feminine are predators, the idea that specific jobs are "female" jobs [while even in those specific female jobs, men are generally paid better and find it easier to get into those jobs than women trying to get into traditionally "male" jobs"]

[Though obviously this varies based on race and whether they're trans, etc, etc.]

To be a little more clear, all of the things you're talking about don't primarily affect cis men/boys. They fuck up transfems, because it's trans/misogyny.

You're right! It's not systemic oppression.

You might wonder if it's social oppression, which is also a no. Social oppression would require a historical/systemic oppression behind it. But that doesn't exist in this case.

What it is is the common issue oppressors run into. While they benefit greatly from oppression, there is also backlash they face from their own systems of oppression.

Like white people who fall into suicide cults trying to work towards white supremacy, or TERFs who fall into groups where they slowly pick each other off as they discover they're not all exactly the same and wind up accusing each other of not being "real" women, systems of bigotry simply do not work out perfectly even for the oppressors.

They never do.

To create the patriarchy, you must establish trans/misogyny, you must establish intersexism and you must push people to conform to those ideals, even if they hurt your own.

It's similar to how white supremacy can harm white people, despite white people obviously not being oppressed racially. The backlash of oppression hits even the oppressors sometimes.

Suppression, as a term, would honestly work far better to describe what you're talking about.

So yes, it's stereotyping, yes it's abusive to tell your children not to show/feel their emotions but it's not oppression based on these guys in your life being men! It's part of how trans/misogyny, transphobia and intersexism are enforced.

I understand exactly where you're coming from! It doesn't sound bad and I genuinely don't mind answering questions! Especially since you've got some good ones!

I'm not sure if I rambled too much to explain this properly but I hope this helps! Let me know if you have any other questions and/or need me to clarify anything here. <33

[luvs4matt]

“𝑨𝑳𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑵𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑼𝑵𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬𝑺” a @luvs4matt and @submattenthusiast collab

— 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑵𝑬 | 𝑰𝑵 𝑷𝑼𝑩𝑳𝑰𝑪

𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 — dom!matt x sub!reader

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀 — in which, dom!matt and sub!matt both end up in the same scenarios, but how differently are they handled?

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 — SMUT, p in v, public sex, degrading praises, mirror sex, kissing, pantie eating?, bigdick!matt, slight orgasm control, clitoral stimulation, slight aftercare, petnames (baby, honey, sweetheart, good girl), small sir kink, shoppingggg, etc

with love and stems, cherry ღღ

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐓 work, and was ready to get home and see his favorite girl, but as soon as he got home, he didn’t even have time to take his shoes off before you ran up to him with your purse and shoes in hand. “you’re home!” you quickly sat down to put your shoes on “we need to go shopping! tj maxx has that shirt i’ve been wanting and i haven’t been able to find it anywhere!”

you dragged him out the door and into the car. he really didn’t want to go anywhere, he had been working for hours on end, but he wants you to be happy and he knows how much you love that shirt. you seen it once and when you went back to get it, it was gone.

you told him on the way there that you knew it was there because your friend called you and informed you about it. he pulled into the parking lot, finding a parking spot “i’ll wait in the car, please hurry baby” you looked at him in disbelief “what? no- matt. you’re coming in, c’mon” he sighed and got out of the car.

typically, matt doesn’t care when you take your time shopping, he finds it adorable even, but he wanted to go home and cuddle you. you found your shirt, but after you found it, you kept looking around “matt!” you squealed, finding the cutest pair of jeans “what.”

“..nevermind” you mumbled, no longer wanting to show them off. you placed them in your cart while you walked towards the undergarments.

“you almost done?” matt asked “not yet- i want to see if they have any bras in my size” you continued to look through them, finally finding a pack of bras in your size.

“i need to try these on!” matt groaned “why? aren’t they your size?” you looked at matt like he was stupid “obviously they are my size matt, but all bras fit differently” he mumbled a “whatever” before following you towards the dressing room.

“i’m trying all 3 items on matt, so it’s going to be a minute before i’m done” that was his last straw. he grabbed the cart from you, taking to the dressing room “ma’am? do you mind watching this for a few minutes?” the lady looked confused “um, sur-“ he grabbed your hand, dragging you towards the bathroom.

“matt- what the fuck” he pulled you inside, pushing you against the door as he covered your mouth with his hand.

“y’know- when i got home, all i wanted to do was shower, and spend time with you—relax, but then… then, you decided that you just absolutely needed to go get this fucking shirt, and i understood, i mean- you haven’t stopped talking about it. but you just keep shopping after that, and take your sweet little time as if I’m not fucking exhausted.”

you stared up at him through your lashes, starting to feel bad about making him take you here “m’sorry” your words were muffled from his palm against your mouth “oh yeah? you’re sorry? why’s that? is it because you know i’ll punish you if you don’t apologize? well, i’ll punish you anyway.. you know that too..”

his hand travels from your mouth, down to your waist “now tell me” his grip on your waist is hard as he brings his lips to your ear “are you gonna be a good girl and be quiet?” you muttered back a “yes sir..”

he chuckled “good.” he placed his lips on yours, roughly kissing you. this went on until your lips were bruised, and yours, and his clothes were off. he pulled away, turning you around to face the mirror “can’t believe i gotta teach you a lesson in a damn bathroom..” he grunted as he lines his tip up with your entrance.

you let out a moan while he filled your pussy, but it was louder than it should’ve been, someone in the store probably heard you “you said that you were going to be quiet, now be quiet, before i have to cover your mouth again”

“i know.. m’sorry.. y- you’re.. you’re just so big” he went as deep as he could after you said that “yeah? i got a big cock baby?” you hummed. you tried to restrain your moans and whimpers, but when he finally started fucking you, you couldn’t anymore.

they were so loud that matt had to still his hips, grabbing your panties from off the floor, before continuing “get these in your mouth, c’mon- oh- yeeaahh” he shoved your panties into your mouth, your own arousal filling your taste buds.

the sound of skin slapping skin echoed through out the room, sweat coating your forehead. you moaned and whined into the fabric as his cock brushes against your cervix.

you tried looking away from the mirror, embarrassed that you already were ruined just from some dick, but matt wouldn’t let you, he gripped your jaw, making you look at yourself “look at you.. ‘got your makeup all messy.. your droolin’ everywhere..”

his fingers rubbed fast, tight, circles on your clit.

the pleasure felt so good to the point that you couldn’t even make more sounds than a groan—possibly a whimper, which is why matt let you remove the panties from your mouth “m- matt” your voice was barely a whisper “hold it” you attempted to protest, but it was no use. “you either hold it, or you don’t cum at all.. your choice”

“i’ll h.. hold it..” you were so dangerously close to falling over the edge, but you didn’t want to disobey him “please..” he chuckled from behind you, speeding up his already rapid thrusts “fine.. cum all over my cock baby”

you came all over his cock, yours and his sticky substances flow out of your hole as he too finished. “did so good sweetheart” he gives you kisses on your cheek and your neck, almost as a small reward. he grabbed toilet paper, using it to clean both of you up before he re-clothed both of you “um.. matt?”

“yeah honey?” you looked down at your wobbly knees before looking back up at him “i.. i don’t know if i can walk..” he smirks at the fact that he took that ability from you “i’ll go get the cart”

“thank you” he gives you a sweet kiss before he leaves the bathroom.

​© luvs4matt

a/n - surprise???

divider by @fairytopea

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

Omg can I please get husband!bangchan x fem!reader plsplspls. My scenario is basically reader is stressed and can’t stop studying (uni) and bangchan sees that and helps her relax. (Daddy kink and praise plsplspls)

let me help you relax

pairing: daddy!husband!chan x fem reader

genre: smut with feelings

word count: ~1.3k

warnings: daddy kink, praise kink, tiny bit of size kink, unprotected sex, implied subspace, i think that’s all.

an: i’m finishing this and posting it while im half asleep so im sorry for any mistakes or if it’s absolute trash. but i’ve been feeling particularly feral about him today and he’s been on my mind. so here’s some daddy!chan for you. ♡ love ya.

masterlist • consider leaving me a tip

‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼ adults only ��� mdni ‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼

your eyes were betraying you. they burned, closing of their own accord, begging for rest. you reached for your coffee, an empty energy drink can falling to the floor. you needed to study more. it’s finals time and you’re stressed. the exam you have tomorrow could make or break your degree. you stomach churned at the thought.

“baby, why don’t you take a break?” your husbands voice approached from behind, his hands gently resting on your shoulders. you were on edge and he wasn’t helping.

“oh that’s rich, coming from you.” you snapped. and you realized your mistake immediately. his grip on your shoulders tightened ever so slightly. it would have been imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know your dynamic. but his voice is what gave you chills. it changed from sweet and doting, to serious. “oh really?” he said. you weren’t looking at him, but you could visualize his expression in your mind. he had at least one eyebrow raised, maybe both. it was the type of look that said: is this really how you want this to go?

and it wasn’t. you didn’t like being a brat. you were just stressed. “i’m sorry, daddy.” your shoulders slumped with exhaustion. “i didn’t mean to snap at you. i’m just under a lot of pressure.”

“i know you are, baby.” he said, his hands on your shoulders starting to massage the knots out. “you’ve been studying so hard.” his hands felt amazing and you started to relax in his hold. he hummed a sweet sound and then placed a kiss on the top of your head. one of his hands started to snake around your shoulder and down under the neckline of your pajama top. “i think it’s time for a break.” he said, his fingertips finding your bare nipple. “don’t you?”

your breath caught in your throat and you nodded, all thoughts of exams lost. he was pulling you deeper and deeper into that soft, fuzzy space that you loved so much. he knew exactly what to do to get your mind off of things.

his other hand tilted your chin up, so you were looking at him. he was upside down, but that didn’t matter. he kissed you gently anyway, before pulling away and helping you stand. he led you from the desk, to your shared bed, pulling your top over your head along the way. your legs hit the bed frame and you let your body fall back onto the mattress. you pulled him down with you, your hands wrapped around his neck. he chuckled against your lips as he kissed you, his hands wandering.

“baby’s been working so hard.” he said, kissing down your jaw to your neck. he nibbled at the sensitive skin there, mumbling his words. “let daddy take care of you. let me help you relax.”

his fingertips found the top of your shorts and began dancing in and out of the material, teasing you. his lips travelled further down, his breath warm against your skin, as he took your nipple into his mouth.

“yes daddy.” you panted.

his tongue swirled around your hard nipple, his teeth grazing it ever so slightly. his hand finally went under your shorts and started playing with your most sensitive area. he tugged gently on the small amount of hair you kept. “mmm..” he hummed. “daddy’s gonna make you forget all about school baby..” his kisses were wet against your nipple. “gonna fuck you till your heads empty.. yeah?”

little did he know, your head was already empty. your mind was cloudy with nothing but him. his smell, his taste, the feel of his hard body against your soft one. he rutted his clothed erection against your thigh, groaning deeply.

he moved his tongue across your chest to your other nipple as he slipped a finger inside your wet hole. your hands balled in the sheets. you wanted to beg him for more, please more, but you couldn’t find the words.

“pussy’s so wet baby..” he mumbled around your nipple. “perfect little pussy.. wants daddy’s cock so bad, huh?”

your answering moan told him he was right, and he slipped another finger inside. he needed to prep you at least a little bit. he kissed his way back up to your lips, letting his tongue play with yours. you started to grab for his curls, to pull him closer, but he pulled away. you whimpered at the loss, pouting.

“don’t pout baby.” he said, poking your jutting bottom lip. “i’m just going to give you what you want.” he pulled his fingers out of you, and removed his shorts. that was the only thing he was wearing, a courtesy to you, as you told him you can’t focus on studying when he walks around naked everywhere. but now, you basked in his nakedness. stared at him and admired him. he truly was beautiful. and so incredibly sexy. he kicked his shorts to the floor and pumped himself in his hand a few times before kneeling between your legs.

he slid the head of his cock up and down between your folds, teasing your entrance and bumping your clit with every pass. “gonna let daddy stretch you out baby?” he asked. he smiled warmly down at you when you didn’t answer him. you just stared up at him with big, glassy eyes, silently begging him to fill you. “can’t talk, baby girl?” he cooed.

the tip of his cock slowly entered you, and he brought one of his hands up to cup your face. you turned your face toward his hand, finding comfort there. “here we go, baby. deep breath, okay?” you nodded and inhaled deeply through your nose. and as you slowly let it out through your mouth, he pushed until he bottomed out. it kicked the breath out of you at first and he knew to give you a moment before he started moving. “good girl baby. there you go. taking me so well.” he rubbed your cheek with his thumb, before slowly bringing that thumb to rub against your clit.

you whined under him, your body unable to hold still, it just felt so good. he started to move. started to thrust in and out of you, his length hitting that perfect spot over and over. “you’re so perfect, baby. daddy’s perfect girl.” his thrusts were getting faster now, your high quickly building. “that’s.. fuck.. that’s why i married you baby.” he grunted in between thrusts. “nobody takes daddy’s cock like you do, princess.”

you reached for him, trying to hold onto anything to help ground yourself. he gave you his hand. you gripped his smallest finger as he fucked you, his muscled chest and abdomen gleaming with sweat. “good girl, baby. hold onto daddy’s pinky.” your walls fluttered around him, your orgasm was right there.

“cmon baby.” his thrusts were harsh now, his skin slapping against yours as your arousal slipped down onto the sheets. “let go for me. squeeze my cock.”

you held onto his hand for dear life as your orgasm rocked through you, your body quivering with pleasure. “thank— thank you daddy.” you blabbered.

“fuck-“ he was starting to get sloppy, unable to control his hips when you felt so good cumming around him. “fuck- i love you baby. im gonna- fuck.. gonna cum.”

he stilled as he released inside of you, his cock twitching as he filled you up. your body fell limp against the mattress, and he reclined back on his heels. he pushed the damp hair out his face before looking down at you. you looked so fucked out, so happy. he smiled.

he leaned down and kissed you gently on the lips. your sleepy eyes fluttered open to look at him. he brushed your own hair out of your eyes and kissed the tip of your nose. “are you coming back to me now, baby?” he chuckled. “come back to earth, sweetheart.”

you smiled a dreamy smile at him. “love you.” you mumbled.

he said something else that sounded like “love you more.” before he climbed off the bed in search of something to clean you up with, but you were already drifting off to a very much needed sleep, dreaming of him.

your daddy.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[darkmatilda]

╰┈➤ the pumpkin reaper

epilogue

previous parts:

1 2 3

in which you and reid are visiting your brother in hospital after he tried to commit a suicide

tw: mention of a suicide attempt

contents: spender reidxfem!bau!reader, it's an epilogue, please check the previous parts if you missed them!

words: 3.1k

You couldn’t believe those words came out of your mouth, but they did. And what’s more, they were sincere.

It was late in the evening when you were heading back to the office in Quantico. No case ever ended with just catching the unsub – after that came the long hours of report writing and paperwork. After everything you’d been through, the team almost forbade you from taking on that task. Instead, they insisted that you go straight home and get some proper rest.

You rolled your eyes and nodded, like a child whose mother insists they zip up their jacket. Hotch was nowhere to be seen, Morgan was listening to music with his eyes closed, Emily and JJ were absorbed in their conversation, and Rossi… well, Rossi was doing whatever it is Rossi does. So, you reached for the case files and tucked yourself away in a quiet corner of the jet. You wanted to go over everything again, even though you knew that as soon as you saw Logan's photo, all the unpleasant memories would come rushing back with relentless force.

 But before you could open the folder to the first page, someone simply took it from your hands. You looked up to see none other than Reid—blue shirt, sleeves rolled halfway up, a look of perpetual sleeplessness, his usual worry, and… joy. Small, but noticeable.

You, too, were almost disturbingly happy. Escaping death filled you with a mood akin to the high after smoking two joints back-to-back. Of course, it would only last for a brief moment; by tomorrow, you’d likely be tossing and turning in bed, plagued by nightmares. A familiar pattern.

"I don’t even want to see you trying to work right now," Spencer said, taking a seat next to you and placing the folder beside him, just out of your reach. Or at least far enough that you’d have to put in some serious effort to grab it—and your sore ribs had no intention of letting you do that.

"Then what do you suggest I do?" you asked, rolling your eyes. "I don't want to sleep."

"Kafka on the Shore?" he suggested.

"I've already read it. By the way, what was the deal with the soldiers and the hut in the woods at the very end?"

"Well, that's an element that leaves a lot of room for personal interpretation."

"Thanks for the explanation, that told me a lot," you chuckled. You pulled your knees to your chest, trying to get more comfortable in your spot, but the movement triggered a wave of pain. You hissed.

“They should have kept you in the hospital for at least one night,” Reid said, suddenly straightening up. “Do you need anything? There might be some ice around… or I could just leave, and you could lie down…”

“No. You’re staying,” you decided firmly. He raised an eyebrow at your abrupt response. You quickly followed up with an explanation. “Well, I’ve finished reading my book, and you took my files. So now you’re responsible for my potential boredom. It’s your duty to entertain me.”

“Yeah” he agreed with a smirk “It’s my duty” 

"So, how do you plan to do that? Are you going to dance? Sing? Juggle?"

"I can't dance or sing, and I don't have anything to juggle. Is it enough if we just talk? Or is that too common of an entertainment for you?"

You pretended to think for a moment.

"Fine, I guess."

"Then what are you planning to do when you get back?"

"Visit Jeremy."

"Oh, right, sorry…”

"Come on," you interrupted, waving your hand. A moment of silence followed as you hesitated before speaking again. However, you remembered that you had decided to stop staying silent about your worries and problems, at least in his presence. "It's just... it really stresses me out. I don't know how I should talk to him, I'm afraid I'll panic when I see him..."

Spencer cleared his throat before answering. 

“That... can really be tough,” he said, not bothering to lie or reassure you that everything would go perfectly. “But hey, remember that he’s probably looking forward to seeing his big sister. Even if you start talking about something you think is silly, he’ll be happy just to have you there.”

He made you smile, though the corners of your eyes began to gently dampen. You wiped them discreetly, not wanting to burst into tears on the jet.

"I hope you're right. And I hope he doesn't hate me for not being there for him..."

You stopped, feeling him take your hand. You realized you had been clenching it into a fist for quite some time.

"I don't know Jeremy, so I can only guess how he'll react. But I'm sure of one thing—he definitely doesn't hate you."

For a long time, you simply stared at your hand in his warm grip. Your fingers relaxed, releasing the tension that had been between them, becoming limp yet yearning for the touch.

"Spencer," you said suddenly, taking a deep breath. "I don't know if I can ask you this... but... you've been there for me this whole time and... okay, I’ll understand if you say no, but... would you maybe... want to visit him with me? I don't know if I can do it alone."

You waited for his response, your heart beating faster with each passing moment. Maybe it was too much? Maybe you shouldn’t be asking him for something like this; maybe it crossed the line of your acquaintance? Just a year ago... no, even a week ago, you never would have imagined you’d be begging anyone for something like this. You would have forced yourself to do it alone, ignoring your fear.

He simply smiled.

"Of course, you can ask me to do that. And I'm glad I'll be able to accompany you."

*

The sound of quickly pressed keys echoed as you gave the hospital receptionist your brother’s last name.

The stark whiteness of the place and the blinding, intense light felt like a scene straight out of a horror movie. The thought of seeing Jeremy soon made you tremble. You had so many questions for him, including why he even tried to take his own life, but you knew you couldn’t ask them just yet. He didn’t need an interrogation to satisfy your curiosity; he needed support.

You were so overwhelmed at the thought of seeing him that you shifted impatiently from foot to foot. You felt stressed but also excited. After all, he was your little brother, and you missed him. Standing beside you, Reid smiled slightly, noticing your behavior. If you were hurting him by squeezing his hand as tightly as you could, he didn’t let it show.

"Who are you to the patient?" the receptionist asked.

"His sister."

"And you?" she turned to Spencer.

"A frie—" he began, probably intending to say friend.

"Fiancé," you interrupted, quickly offering a word that began with the same letter. You worried that if the woman found out he wasn’t connected to you or Jeremy, she might ask him to stay in the waiting room. You didn’t expect him to go into Jeremy's room with you, but you wanted the reassurance that he’d be right outside, not on the other side of the hospital.

Reid first looked at you like you were crazy. You tried to silently signal him to join in on your desperate act. Luckily, he caught on incredibly fast.

"That's right, fiancé. Basically, husband. We're getting married... tomorrow," he improvised, nodding with such conviction that he almost seemed to believe it himself. "Well, actually, not tomorrow, but the day after, because tomorrow is Sunday, and we’re Catholic. In our religion, 

“Darling,” you gritted through your teeth, seeing the receptionist’s confused expression.

“In any case, I’m very close to the patient,” he emphasized.

If he said anything more, you would’ve nudged him with your elbow.

“Well… in that case… the patient is in room number fourteen. It’s that way…” She pointed in the right direction. You thanked her with an overly wide smile. “And… congratulations.”

“God bless you,” Reid said as he waved goodbye.

You quickly turned around, so she wouldn’t see your burst of laughter. As soon as you were out of the receptionist's sight, you hit him on the back so hard that a woman with a cast on her arm almost dropped her coffee. He laughed, and you awkwardly tried to hide how much the whole situation amused you as well.

“If I had let you say one more word, she wouldn’t have let either of us in,” you complained. “She would’ve thought we were freaks. Religious freaks. Or maybe point us to the psychiatric ward.”

“Hey, I’m not the best actor. You should know that,”

“I didn’t know. I’ll remember for next time, though I’m not sure if there will ever be another situation where you’ll need to pretend to be my husband.”

"Fiancé," he corrected. "You decided that yourself."

"Basically a husband. You decided that yourself."

You didn’t say anything more, only grabbed the edge of his coat sleeve to slow his pace. You were standing outside room 14, right in front of the door. You didn’t even peek inside; you weren’t ready to see Jeremy just yet.

“I need one more minute,” you whispered.

“Take all the time you need,” he replied gently.

 The playful mood that had accompanied you both was gone. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you stood on tiptoe and began adjusting his poorly tied scarf. 

“Sorry,” you muttered under your breath. “It’s been bothering me since I saw you.”

"I'll wait for you here, okay?" he asked quietly. Because you were so close to him, he barely had to raise his voice at all. "Jeremy doesn’t know me, I don’t want to just show up unannounced..."

“Are you coming in or what?”

You turned around, startled, to see none other than Jeremy. Lying on the hospital bed, poking at a container of chocolate pudding with a spoon, and most importantly, awake. 

At first, you were surprised, but soon emotion took control of your body, and you ran to him as if he were about to disappear.

"Oh my God, I can finally see you..." His shirt, which you hugged tightly, muffled your words.

"The pudding spilled on your jacket."

"I don't care."

He chuckled into your hair, holding you tighter. You stayed like that for a moment, desperately holding back tears. If even one had surfaced, you would’ve fallen apart like a child.

ou pulled away after a long time, immediately noticing that his eyes were also filled with tears. However, he quickly wiped them away with his hand. Still, he was a sixteen-year-old boy, and crying in front of his sister felt like public humiliation for him, a shame that would last forever. You tried to do everything you could to avoid looking at his wrists. Both hands were wrapped in bandages, and from the conversation with your father, you learned that they had put in a lot of stitches. You focused on looking at his face—young, similar to yours, with the same blue eyes.

"Are parents visiting you?"

He shrugged.

"Father, surprisingly, more often. Mother drops by irregularly and talks about strange things. Apparently, our neighbor's dog has worms, and it really pisses her off. My mother, not the neighbor. Though, probably the neighbor too..."

You didn't know why you started crying.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." you mumbled, your words slurring. “I should have gotten here earlier, and I didn’t. I regret so much that I didn’t, I’m sorry. I should have been here the moment you woke up.”

He didn’t say anything, letting you lament. Finally, you wiped away the last tear, then apologized to him about eighteen more times. You sat together in silence for a moment, busying yourself with wiping the dirty jacket. He wasn’t joking about the pudding.

“How are you feeling?”

He shrugged.

“Tolerable, I guess. By the way, who was that guy who came in with you?”

You turned toward the entrance, but Spencer was nowhere to be seen. He must have sat on one of the chairs outside the room, and knowing him, he’d probably started reading some medical brochure.

“A friend,” you replied briefly. “I hope it doesn’t bother you that I brought him... It’s just…”

You didn’t know how to explain that you couldn’t have made it here without support.

“He works for the FBI too?” he asked, suddenly curious. “Would he tell me more about the job than you do?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, pretending to be dead serious.

“I won’t let him tell my little brother any graphic details.”

“I’m not a kid!”

“To me, you are, and always will be.”

He looked like he was holding back from sticking his tongue out at you.

“Call him,” he asked. “I’d love to meet your friend. Is he a friend, or a friend?”

“Jeremy, you’re ridiculous…”

But you fulfilled his request. Spencer stared at you with wide eyes when you told him that your brother wanted to see him. As he entered the room, he almost tripped over... probably his own feet, since there was nothing else to trip on. And that’s how the rest of the visit went, the three of you together. Jeremy alternated between complaining about the hospital food and bombarding Reid with questions about absolutely everything related to being a profiler. He had always been fascinated by it, but after everything that had happened to you, you couldn’t, with a clear conscience, recommend that job to him. Spencer had been explaining everything in detail to him, and for the next hour, you almost felt like an intruder in their private conversation, which amused you instead of offending you.

Spencer left a moment before you, giving you a chance to say goodbye to your brother privately. When you finally released him from your embrace, promising you'd come back tomorrow, the same nurse who had spoken with you at the reception entered the room. She was checking Jeremy’s condition as you headed for the exit.

“Wait,” she suddenly said. “I think your husband left his scarf.”

She held up the purple scarf, indeed Reid's. You were about to thank her and take it when you noticed Jeremy’s mouth hanging open, and with horror, you realized what she'd said.

"Forgive me, dear sister, but what the fuck?”

*

“So, he’s convinced that we had a secret, spontaneous wedding that you didn’t tell him about?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

In reality, Jeremy had probably realized immediately that there was a misunderstanding, but he just couldn’t pass up the chance to tease you. He would likely bring it up again for the rest of your life. You were also worried that you'd get an angry phone call from your mother asking why you didn’t mention your “wedding,” but overall, you were content with how the meeting went.

You both walked together in an unknown direction, neither of you sure when you should part ways or if you even wanted to. You didn’t want to, but you had no idea about him. The weather was much better than in the town where you had spent the last few days. The fewer trees meant that autumn wasn’t as pronounced. It was only present in the chilly, gusty wind.

"If you don't have any plans, how about going out to eat?" you suggested.

"Sure." Reid agreed immediately, and the corner of your mouth twitched at the speed of his response. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Well, anything. There's a good restaurant on the corner of this street... Oh, God, I just remembered, I owe someone dinner as a thank you."

"Dinner? As a thank you?" he repeated with a strange look on his face. Before he could say anything else, he caught himself and snorted. "Interesting. Just curious, is it someone I know?"

"Oh, you know him." You continued with a barely suppressed smile. "Do you remember James Rivas? The forest ranger?"

Reid literally stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Dinner? With him?"

"That's right. Well, he saved my life, so I guess I owe him that."

You were shocked when you learned how your team knew where to find you after you were kidnapped. The bunker Osborne took you to was unknown to the local authorities, hidden deep in the forest, far from any paths. When the rumor spread through the town about who was responsible for the murders and that an FBI agent had been kidnapped, the forest ranger showed up at the police station. He revealed that he knew the place where you might have been held because, as a child, he used to go there with friends, including Logan Osborne.

But of course, you had no intention of taking him to dinner. You just wanted to laugh at Reid's reaction.

"You're absolutely not owed anything by him!" he blurted out with emotion, a hint of anger in his voice. "If he'd only remembered that he knew about the existence of some bunker, you wouldn't have been kidnapped in the first place. You wouldn't have had to go through that hell, and I wouldn't have been losing my mind the whole time, not knowing what happened to you. Plus, have you forgotten what an awful person he is? He's arrogant, self-absorbed, and full of self-admiration—do you really want to have dinner with someone like that...are you laughing?"

He furrowed his brow, completely confused by your reaction.

“God, Reid, I was just joking! I’d rather die than spend another hour with that jerk. Especially voluntarily,” you explained, laughing between words. Something in his remark made you smirk. “Were you really losing your mind when I was kidnapped? “

“You’re impossible," he snorted. “Where’s that restaurant?”

“Wait, don’t change the topic and answer my question”

He simply looked at you, tilting his head to the side.

 “Isn’t it obvious?”

taglist: @miriamnox @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @nightfullofparadox

thank you everyone for reading <3

[fanaticsnail]

Oh, oh, Buggy for the kissing booth please? (And if someone is in line ahead of me could I be tagged for him? 👉👈) Thank you! 🧡🧡🧡 This is such a fun idea!

-rorywritesjunk

(imma just request from main now on)

The Kissing Booth - Buggy for Rorywritesjunk

Word Count: 1,400+

Notes: Thank you so much for your patience, Rory! It's been a little while since I've done one of these! True to his form, here is the fail-forward clown in all his charismatic glory. Thank you for being here, and I hope you enjoy his kisses!

Taking a few final breaths to calm yourself down, ears pricked at the approach of heavy boots crunching gravel beneath the firm leather heels. Jingles of trinkets falling from jackets and belt buckles is what you assumed the twinkling chime sound was, but you knew better than to make an assumption on a stranger.

Laughter and merriment flung from the throats to christen the atmosphere with their joy, unintentionally drawing your own to bubble in your chest at the seriously large influx of unusual laughs. Not so much the content they were laughing at, but the laughs themselves was what had you teetering out soft giggles. 

“The hell is-...?” A nasally voice cut out, as the halt of his feet stood at the path before where you sat, “...A ‘Kissing Booth’? How does that work?” A few voices began to whisper amongst themselves as the boots drew ever nearer. 

Straightening your back, you shook yourself clear of any nerves as your posture became more alert and attentive. The crunch and crackle of boots meeting the floor halted and you felt your nose pick up the first whiff of their cologne. A deep musk and playful fruity scents interwoven with the spray of the sea, alongside something that almost matched the acidity of lemon sweets, met your nose and caused your mind to wander. Before you could make a motion to speak, their voice interrupted your monologuing with the same nose-front resting tone. 

“What do I do? Just sit in front of you and get a facefull of tongue?” the voice asked with confusion laced in their tone. “Are you even any good? No offense intended or anything.” 

You immediately reclined in your stool with your brow furrowing beneath the mask at his questioning. Hooking one leg over your knee, you fold your arms and turn your face from the stranger. 

“If I wasn’t any good, I wouldn't have volunteered for this,” you huff, angling your chin in the air and electing to ignore him. “And no, I don’t give out a ‘faceful of tongue’. If that’s your idea of a kiss, please, by all means, jog on.” 

“‘Jog on’?” He mimicked you, moving towards the guest seat and plopping himself down on the surface, “Crew, you lot ‘jog on’. I’m gonna have words with this one.” 

“You sure, Captain?” another voice asked the man, only being met with a few sounds of claps of hands meeting shoulders and directions for the person to hush. Overlaps of: “We can go on the ferris wheel,” “Boss is letting us of the leash,” “The captain wants some privacy,” and “I want to hit the barbeque,” was released in hushed whispers as footsteps immediately fled the scene unfolding between you and this ‘Captain’.

After the sounds of feet meeting the ground left to a complete vacation from your proximity, a few leaves of paper crumpled into the jar beside you by the hands of your guest. 

“I-... uh-...” they began, slowly scooting the stool closer to you, “I’m sorry about the tongue thing. I don’t know what that was all about. A-And for judging your abilities to kiss. I’m sure you are a fine kisser, and considering I’ve paid my Berry, I mean… If you’re still wanting to… I just… I’m sorry.”

You still angled your face away from him, only now pursing your lips to stifle a rising smile on your face. Slowly but surely, you turned to face him and extended your right hand out to offer him your truce. You felt his shrouded hand meet with yours, noticing a slightly worn fuzz to the leathery material before you felt contact meet with your knuckles. 

Breath warmed your skin before his lips descended to the middle knuckle: pursed in a perfect heart shape to caress your skin. Holding their lips there for a moment longer, they removed them and thumbed over the spot. 

“Forgiven then?” the voice asks you softly. You slowly turn your shrouded face towards him and give him a polite nod. 

“I’m sure your comment was offered in jest,” you smile at him, your hand still placed within his own. “And that was a very unique way to use your donation. Most people go for the lips.” 

The hand wrapped around yours tensed, frozen in place as their breath hitched in their throat.

“That wasn’t-, I didn’t mean-, kiss on-, was that-?” his words all jumbled together like a clown missing each juggling ball on their descent. You chuckled at his words, unlacing your knees and leaning towards him.

“I was joking,” you nod at him, slowly moving your hand up to where you assume his face was. Immediately, his remaining other hand blocked your touch: his thumb in the center of your palm and for fingers circling over your fingers.

“Don’t,” they warned you, moving in closer, “It’s… It’s better if you hold still and I lean in. Uh… In fact.” Their face felt closer to yours, each moment seeming to bob against your face without ever making contact, “If… If you could tilt your head a little…” 

You furrowed your brows, but complied with his request. Tilting your head to the right, giving him more of an invitation, you were unsure as to what you were expecting.

Only seconds pass until you feel contact being slowly pressed against your face. Not your lips, but stamped against your cheek, a round object squished against your skin as they moved their lips ever closer. 

‘A nose?’ you thought to yourself, refusing to question their actions and only tilting your chin up as a response. As you angled your face upwards, you felt his lips meet with yours. Timidity, uncertainty, and a small quiver was found in the lips of this formerly confident captain. Each motion was slow as he opened up more to the kiss. 

Slowly moving his lips against yours, he expelled a breathy sigh as you reciprocated all of his movements. Mouthing at your lips, he flicked his tongue out to playfully brush with your bottom lip, only to immediately whimper as you parted them to accept him. His hands left yours, regrouping to cup your face with his gloved hands. Pinky fingers at your jaw, he held you steady as he added more pressure to the intensity of his kiss. 

His head tilted to change angles, offering you a few more fluttered kisses as he swapped directions, brushing the rotund tip of his nose against yours in the interlude between his deep kiss. The moans from his throat intensified as you drew your hand to his chest and held firm to his collar, never breaking the kiss first for fear that you would pull away too quickly. 

There was no stop to the motions, using all in his power to continue claiming more of you against himself while attempting to breath as much of you in as he could. The way he kissed you was as if you were the last kiss he would ever have before resolving himself to the gallows. The need for air began to tug at your lungs, as was his own, prompting him to break the kiss with a smacked pucker of his lips on yours. 

“I-...” he choked as he panted through the heave of his lungs screaming at him, “...Am Buggy. And that?” you felt his clothed thumb press against your lips, brushing the skin in a smooth swipe, “That was a really good kiss. Hold still for me, starlight?” 

“Hold still-?” your question dies on your lips as you feel him begin to swipe a wet piece of material over your lips and dab at a few key spots on your skin.

“I… I wear paints, and you got a little transferred on you,” he commented with a small chuckle, “Don’t you worry, you’ll be all back to how you were when I clean you up. Just keep sitting as you are, and I’ll be done in a second, alright?” 

You did as you were told, asking no questions while Buggy dutifully cleaned up your features with every slow movement. As he said, it was all over in a quick moment. As he pulled the cloth away from your skin, he took a moment to ponder you as you sat on the booth. 

“When you’re all done up here, ‘shut up shop’ as it were,” he pressed the towel to the tip of your nose and playfully dabbed you, “Let me take you out? Just as an apology for the earlier comment about the faceful of tongue and the judgment on your ability.”

You hum thoughtfully and purse your lips in mock thought. Taking a second to yourself, you smile with your nose crinkled in a playful scrunch.

“I’ll think about it.”