#sorry i didn’t know where to put these thoughts i needed to say this somewhere

[iwriteloveletters]

every time i see someone say that (anime character) would only like white women an angel loses its wings why are we limiting drawings to eurocentric beauty standards let the drawing like latinas yall 💔 and poc in general lmfao stop limiting them !!! ur fucking weird !!!

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[cursedcola]

Prompt: “I Lived Bitch” <- You send them a text message of an an image. Said image is a headshot of you with bandages around your head, a couple of bruises on your face, and the staple cheeky peace sign to tie it all together. Context Varies. Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Overblot Homies Format: TEXT.IMG + Bullets.

Parts: (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil) (Here) , (Vil, Idia, Malleus) Masterlist: Link A/N: Saw some of these floating around and thought the text format would be good for some mixed scenarios <3. Sorry they’re not all in one. Tumblr has a picture limit. Edit: HUZZAH I have discovered a way to put more images. Less parts hehe.

A gradual spiral. Riddle isn’t one to dwell until order is disrupted. He initially thinks you’re off causing mischief with Ace and Deuce - already preparing for whatever comes.

When they arrive on their own, knowing nothing about you? He’s uncomfortable. When Grim struts in on his own, he’s concerned. When Crewel stops him saying that you missed half your classes and didn’t have any absentee excuse? He’s panicking.

The controlled type of panic where it feels like that first month of Sophomore year all over again. Grim’s already earned a collar. How could he not know where his prefect is? The Headmaster is irresponsible surely, but you were a good student. Riddle wouldn’t partner with someone unable to uphold their basic responsibilities.

Riddle was one hour short of marching to Crowley’s office, because perhaps it was STYX scenario again and he wasn’t having a repetition.

You finally respond when he’s desperately trying to study - he wasn’t going to sacrifice his schedule.

Which gets forgotten regardless. He leaves the books abandoned (not that he could get past one page without drifting) and speed walks to the clinic. That anxious red poking out from his collar, heels smacking against marble. It’s rare for him to ever walk with his head in a screen - such a thing is rude, but his eyes are glued as he turns each corner.

He’s not happy you chose to downplay the situation. Considering his history with medicinal magic, Riddle’s already bombarding the nurse for your medical report once he enters. Then he sits silently at your bedside, flipping through the clipped papers. The occasional scoff turns to a tick in his jaw when reading the incident report.

Cave in of the Ramshackle stairwell? Looks like he’s having a word with the Headmaster after all.

Unlike Riddle, there’s an instant agitation with this one. Call it the princely charm of wanting instant responses.

Also. You don’t ignore him for silly reasons. When you say that you’re meeting him somewhere, you do. Same for Leona. He might gripe but he always shows up.

So he doesn’t need to wait. There’s already a nagging feeling in his stomach after the first twenty minutes pass.

He’s logical. Knows all your spots. Knows your schedule and would honestly even text Azul (if you’re working that day). Pain in the ass, but he’ll do it.

So first instinct is to do a play-by-play of the past week in his head. Look for any reason you might be pissed or too ‘busy’ to hold your plans. When he comes up empty, he’ll strut up to the little frosh table. Stir some anxiety with a glare or whatever, which gets serious when no one has any idea where you’re at. Not even the little weasel.

Any longer and he might’ve gone to Rook. We all know how Leona feels about Rook, but he’s the best when it comes to tabbing someone.

Your text comes during Spelldrive practice. He’s standing on his broom, looking over the field, arms crossed and agitated with the TWST equivalent of a bluetooth headset in his ear.

Dips out so fast. 0mph to roughly 50 after waving Ruggie to finish without him. Flies right out the practice court, overhead main campus, and outside the infirmary. Not in the mood to deal with the nurse or any of that crap. Comes in through the window.

Pissed. Pissed he didn’t think to check here, and pissed he should’ve had to. Did you learn nothing from the Spelldrive tournament? Broomwork isn’t easy, and not meant for two people unless someone with strong magic can support it.

Wants to know which idiot let you fall, but he’s been on edge all day. He can grill it out of you later. Scoot over and make room, he’s owed his mid-day nap. No. He’s not sleeping in a free bed. The scent of antibacterial spray is shanking his nose, so he needs yours to mask it.

In truth he is NOT okay. He’s very pissed and doesn’t sleep a wink. How could he? Pulls the curtain around your bed and flops over you with his tail curled around your leg. Hurts? Tough luck. Don’t pull a stunt like that ever again.

Azul is tweaking out - just so you know. First out of panic and then for the little sweettalk - even if he asked for it

Already used to you getting knocked over the head - Floyd's a bit too rough for his liking when swinging ya around, but what can he do?

Amidst packing up his belongings in a rush, the VIP lounge's empty so he can skidadle along like he normally would when alone. The moment the picture loads, he's honestly glad you texted vs. video call since it's easier to feign that cocky attitude of his via message.

Despite sassing you about the twins - he's a bit miffed you'd think for a moment he isn't coming himself. If anything to get the story from word-of-mouth vs. whatever Jade's going to relay.

Speaking of, oh look - one of the lounge couches is already set up to accommodate one injured prefect. A light meal and some tea too. Floyd's itching for a squeeze, but the most you get is a rough toss on the cushion before Azul's got him in one of those rare gridlocks where Floyd backs down. Did you think he couldn't? Octopi are freaking strong.

Rather than be outwardly miffed, he's already regained his composure during his walk to the infirmary.

So...you fell while trying to get an overhead shot of campus for the newspaper? And you were just...given access? To one of the high towers? You. A student without a broom or ability to cast a safeguard charm.

....Hmm. Someone gave you access? Curious. Only Professors are allowed to hand out access passes. Sounds a bit 'fishy' but he's satisfied. Looks like Floyd might get to play after all.

....oh he's not mad, he's just disappointed (ouch)

He's too busy to sit and worry over where you're at. Jamil trust (ed) that as the only other mildly-sane person at this school, you'd make educated decisions

Okay. That's a lie. You're not sane, but he accepted as much when he begrudgingly fell for said insanity...damn hearts and their lack of logic

Honestly? He was shocked you put him as an emergency contact. Flattered even. Until the simmering frustration began to boil - because of course you went of campus. Of course you took the trolly down to the Isle shops, and of course you got hit by a car trying to stop Grim from running across the street (he saw a sushi shop and bolted).

Of course Jamil can't just go on his own. He has to finish his tasks, get permission, and using the carpet means telling Kalim. Which will then lead to him getting worked up and lo behold it is an event now.

At least using the Al Asim name gets the permission granted without a fuss...Jamil just wants to see that you're okay in person for himself...and also lay into you for being reckless. No holding back.

Hah. Haha. -_-

Don't try getting out of this by acting cute with the little 'i love you' and grabby hands once he gets there. He's not that soft-hearted...yet. Jamil has his principles.

Kalim might jump off and barrel in past medical professionals without thinking twice. Jamil will do his casual glance-over, speak with the nurses, and pull up a chair once he realizes you won't be let go until morning. Great. Now it's just you three stuck in a small hospital room (Kalim got ya booted up to a private stay) as some strange impromptu sleepover.

Just...give him a bit. Wait for Kalim to pass out on the spare cot and then he'll stop looking so emotionally repressed. Believe it or not, he'd trade places with you in a heartbeat if he could.

Not because he feels obligated, but because getting the 'hey, your partner is off in a clinic miles away' call during his normal schedule was a heart attack Jamil wasn't prepped for.

He thought the worst news could be that you'd gone home without saying anything. Somehow? This was nearly on par. 90% on par.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Meet Me Behind The Mall

Pairing: shy!Peter Parker x popular!Reader

Synopsis: after getting ditched by your friends, you spend a day with Peter in the mall, who’s secret you recently figured out

Masterlist

In his peripheral vision, Peter could see a tiny piece of paper being pushed onto his side of the lab table. He curiously looked at it, then up at you. You nodded your head towards the note so Peter unfolded it.

“What’s the answer to number 7?” The note read. Peter glanced up at the professor before scribbling down the answer and passing the note back to you. You read his response and circled the correct answer. A few seconds passed when another note was passed across the table. Peter picked it up and opened it to reveal three hearts drawn around the words “thank u!”. Peter felt his face flush and looked over at you again. You gave him a thumbs up before going up to hand in your test.

After class, you caught up with Peter in the hallway and put your hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Thank you so much for helping me in there. I counted up all the answers I was confident I got right and it wasn’t enough to get a pass. I just don’t get this unit.”

“You’re welcome.” Was all Peter could say. He thought about offering to tutor you or telling you he also struggled with the topic, but he felt too shy to get anything more out than a cordial response.

“I bet you did really well. You always do. God, I wish I was as good at science as you are. It’s just never come naturally to me. How do you always know the answer?” You asked him as you continued to walk together.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged and immediately scrunched his face in embarrassment. He wished he could be better at conversing with you, especially since you were always so nice to him. He saw a pack of your friends coming down the hallway and they waved you over, putting your conversation out of it’s misery.

“Bye, Peter. I’ll see you next class. Have a good weekend.” You waved to him as you ran to catch up with your large group of friends. He knew he should return the sentiment but instead stayed silent and gave you a pathetic wave back.

That night, the cheap alcohol of the frat party didn’t sit well with you so you headed home early. You were a pretty far walk from your dorm but felt too nauseas to get into a car. Instead, you started walking home and let the cold New York air calm you down.

“Where are you going, gorgeous?”

You felt panic drop in your stomach at the sound of a man’s voice somewhere in the darkness but kept walking to your dorm. The sound of footsteps behind you picked up behind you so you quickened your pace. You could still hear music coming from the party you had left so you knew people were nearby if worst came to worst.

“Hey. I’m talking to you. Where are you going?”The man asked as he caught up to you and walked beside you. You ignored him and tugged your jacket tighter around your body. He suddenly took you by the elbow and you froze in fear.

“Come on. Don’t be rude. Just give me a smile and I’ll leave you alone.” The man said with a sickening smile as he tried to get you to look at him.

“Please. I’ll give you whatever you want from my bag. Just leave me alone.” You pleaded and moved away from him. He snatched your purse from your hands and started to rummage through it.

“What the hell is this? This is just full of receipts.” He grimaced in disgust and pulled out a handful of crumbled receipts.

“I don’t want to throw them out in case I need to return something one day.” You said meekly.

“Do you even have a wallet? All I’m finding is lip gloss.” The man said as he picked up five different lip products from the bottom of your bag.

“Oh, I’m sorry you didn’t find a better person to rob.” You scoffed sarcastically. The man looked up at you with a primal look in his eyes.

“Oh, you think you’re funny? I don’t like girls who think they’re funny.” He said and gripped your elbow again. You tried to pull away but he was too strong. Before you could tell him to let to, Spiderman dropped down next to you. You cracked a smile at the sight of him and let out a sigh of relief.

“Sir, I hate to be the one to tell you this but that purse does not to with that outfit.” Peter sassed and moved his hands in dramatic exasperation.

“Huh?” The guy said and let go of you.

“Now, you better not have left a bruise on this lovely lady’s elbows or you and I are gonna have a serious problem.” Peter warned as he shot a web at the guys pants. He yanked them down and the man’s jeans fell to his ankles.

“Hm. I did not peg you for a boxers guy. Your whole vibe screams “Fruit of the Loom” tighty whities. Yet now I stand corrected.” Peter said as he tilted his head to the side. You covered your mouth and let out a laugh, making the man grow angry. He went to lunge at Peter but tripped over his dropped pants.

“Uh oh. Someone’s angry. Maybe your whities are a little too tighty.” Peter commented as he pinched his fingers together. You laughed again as Peter shot a web at your purse.

“I’ll take that.” He quipped and yanked the purse out of the man’s hands.

“Thank you!” Peter said politely as he caught your purse.

“Hey!” The man shouted.

“Hey?” Peter laughed. “You’re yelling at me like it’s yours.”

The man tried to lunge at Peter again and ended up falling flat on his face. Peter took that as his cue to wrap an arm around you and pick you up to swing you to safety. He landed a few blocks away and carefully put you down. You stared at him through the mask as he put you down, your faces just inches apart. Peter gulped and felt his entire face go red beneath the mask.

“Thank you, Spiderman.” You smiled softly at him as you slowly withdrew your arm from around his neck.

“You’re very welcome, miss. I believe this belongs to you.” He said as he put your purse back into your hands. Your eyebrows knit together suddenly in confusion and you let out a short laugh.

“Wait, Peter?” You asked, making Peter’s heart drop.

“Uh, what?” He gulped. “Who’s that? I’m your friendly neighbor Spiderman.”

“Right. Sorry. You sound just like this guy in my chemistry class.” You laughed and shook your head. Peter felt his blush spread all the way to his ears over you recognizing the sound of his voice. You ran in different circles at school, you being apart of the popular group of girls and him belonging to a small group of local nerds. That being said, your ever present kindness towards him left him to develop a small crush on you.

“Oh. Well, that’s not me. But he sounds really handsome.” Peter replied, making you laugh again.

“He is.” You nodded without an ounce of sarcasm in your voice. This piked his curiosity and he leaned in a little.

“He is?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely.” You nodded. “In a hot nerd kind of way. Like Spencer Reid. But kinda short. Which I’m not sure why I’m telling you now that I hear myself.”

“It’s okay. I like that show too.” He chuckled shyly. “He sounds really cool.”

“He is really cool. At least, I think he is. But I’m not really sure. Everytime I try to talk to him, he looks away.” You sighed like you were disappointed. Peter realized you were a little drunk and probably didn’t know what you were saying. Even if that was the case, it was still nice to hear.

“Maybe he’s just shy. And doesn’t know how to look pretty girls in the eye.” Peter said as he kicked a rock around with his foot.

“That’s a shame.” You smiled sadly. “Because I think he and I could be friends if he ever learned to look at me.”

Peter stopped messing with the rock and looked up at you. There was a smallness to you tonight that shone through your party dress and heavy makeup. Your typically bright hand bubbly demeanor was cloudy by something you weren’t telling him.

“Maybe he’ll start.” He told you.

“I hope so.“ You answered honestly. “He seems nice. I could use a friend like him.”

Standing under that streetlight, Peter noticed a sadness to you for the first time. You were usually in a circle of friends all wearing smiles but right now, you seemed completely alone down to your bones.

“So how was your night?” He asked in a quiet voice. You stared off into the distance as your eyes brimmed with tears suddenly.

“Do you ever feel completely alone despite being in a room full of people you know?” You asked him.

“I do, actually. All the time.” He answered. You looked at him and smiled sadly.

“Do really, Spiderman?” You asked with hope in your voice. It wasn’t that you wanted him to feel alone. You just wanted to know you weren’t the only one who felt that way.

“I do. Is that how you felt tonight?”

“I don’t know. I guess. Sometimes I make jokes and my friends all look at each other. And they all make this face as if they’re thinking the same thing. And what they’re thinking is that I’m a freakish alien who they’re embarrassed to know. That’s how I felt tonight.”

“Well that’s no fun. And you’re not a freakish alien. You’re very funny.”

“And you know that because you’re the cute guy in my chemistry class?” You asked with a hopeful smile.

“I’m not him. I’m just guessing that you’re funny. So maybe you are an alien. I don’t know. This is our first time meeting.”

“Right.” You rolled your eyes. “So how do you think you did on the last test? I actually feel pretty confident.”

“I don’t know because I didn’t take any test because I’m not the guy in your chemistry class. Now can I walk you home? It’s freezing out here and I have no jacket to offer you.”

“Sure, thanks. I’m this way.” You said and pointed in the direction of your dorm. Peter placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you towards your dorm.

“You should get a friend to walk with you next time you leave a party. It’s not safe to be out here by yourself. Especially with guys like that going around snatching purses.”

“I know. I asked my friends but they weren’t ready to leave yet.” You shrugged.

“And they let you walk home alone? Drunk? Sounds like you need some new friends.” Peter joked but you nodded in agreement.

“I know. But you know how friends can be. They still wanted to party. Why should I be their problem?” You shrugged again, making Peter frown.

“It’s not a problem to look out for you.” He said simply.

“That’s easy for you to say. You look out for everyone. It’s your job.” You reminded him.

“I’m not just saying that because of my job. It wouldn’t be a burden to take care of you no matter who I was.” Peter replied, making you stop walking. He looked at you and you looked that you had been waiting your whole life to hear what he had just said.

“Thank you.” You said with a fond smile.

“You’re very welcome.” Peter replied in an equally soft voice. You kept walking in comfortable silence until you reached the girls dorm.

“This is my dorm.” You told him. Thanks again for walking me home. And getting my purse back for me.”

“Anytime.”He nodded. “I just hope it doesn’t happen again. But if it did, you know.”

“You’d be here.” You finished his sentence.

“Exactly.” He smiled. “You can count on it.”

You couldn’t see the smile under his mask but you knew it was there. You held up your purse to show him that you had it before walking up a few of your dorm steps.

“See you at school?” You asked him.

“Don’t think so.” Peter chuckled. You squinted your eyes as if you didn’t believe him but eventually shrugged.

“That’s too bad. Good night.” You waved to him and walked the rest of the way up the stairs.

“Good night.” He called after you.

Once Monday came, you were determined to talk to Peter. You didn’t have chemistry that day so you’d have to find him elsewhere on campus. You knew he usually hung out in the library so you went there to check. Sure enough, he was at a table with his friends Ned and Miles.

“Hey, Peter.” You greeted as you walked up to him.

“H-hi.” He stammered. “What are you? I mean, how are you up? I mean, how are you? What’s up?”

“There we go.” Ned nodded. “I knew he’d get there eventually.”

“I’m good.” You replied. “How are you doing?”

“Ooo. Is this your girlfriend from chemistry class?” Miles asked as his raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“Is that what you told them?” You smiled in surprise as you looked at Peter.

“No. I didn’t. I swear.“ He assured you as his entire face went red.

“He did show us the note you gave him.” Ned told you.

“Oh yeah. Three hearts. I didn’t realize you guys were so serious.” Miles teased Peter as he gave his friends a look that begged them to stop.

“I never said she was my girlfriend.” Peter whispered harshly to them. You could tell he was getting embarrassed so you played along to save him. You frowned and ran your fingers through his hair before letting your hand rest on his cheek.

“What? You didn’t tell them about us, baby?” You asked and titled your head to the side. Miles and Ned’s made surprised faces as Peters entire face went red.

“W-what?” Peter sputtered out.

“I’m messing with you.” You smiled. “But I do need to talk to you.”

“Oh, uh, okay. Sure.” Peter said and moved his bag so you could sit down. You looked at Miles and Ned and smiled timidly.

“Privately.” You clarified. Miles and Ned “oooo”ed as you walked away from their table and went into the hall.

“Dude, follow her.” Ned told him and pushed Peter up from the table. Peter nervously fixed his hair and got up to follow you.

“What’s up?” He asked once you were alone. You looked around to see who was watching before stepping closer to him.

“I just wanted to thank for getting my purse back for me. It’s my favorite bag. And my favorite lip combo was in there. You really saved me.” You said and squeezed his arm in appreciation.

“Oh, you’re welcome. Anytime.” Peter said waved his hand like it was no big deal. Your lips curved into a wicked smile and Peter realized his mistake.

“Shit.” He whispered as you jumped up and down and clapped your hands.

“I knew it!” You whispered. “I knew that was your voice!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said quickly.

“Yes you do.” You grinned and poked him in the chest.

“I really don’t.” He shrugged but he knew he was caught.

“Then why are you so flustered right now?” You folded your arms to ask him. Peter touched his burning cheek and debated telling you his face always did that around you.

“I’m not.” He lied.

“Your face is hot.” You pointed out as you touched a cold hand to his cheek.

“Psht. Your face is hot.” He scoffed and pushed your hand away.

“Thank you.” You said pointedly. “But you and I both know that I figured out your little secret. There’s no point in denying it now.”

“I don’t have any secrets. So you don’t know anything.”

“Come on, Peter.” You whined. “I’ve been waiting all weekend to tell you that I know. I wanted to text you but I don’t have your number and I couldn’t find you on Instagram. You have one, don’t you?”

“I’m not on social media.” He told you.

“Okay. That’s serial killer behavior but I’m willing to look past it if you confirm my suspicions.” You said and excitedly drummed your fingers on your chin.

“I’m not Spiderman. So I cannot confirm your suspicions.” He whispered for only you to hear. You smirked a little before shrugging.

“I guess you can’t.” You sighed. “It’s weird though, right?”

“What’s weird?” He wondered.

“That I never said you were Spiderman. I just thanked you for getting my purse.” You said with a coy smile. Peter hung his head in shame as he confirmed to you for the second time that he was in fact Spiderman.

“I knew it! I knew it was you. I even recognized the way you walk.” You said proudly.

“What do you know about the way I walk?” He asked with a shy smile.

“You walk really stiff like you’re holding two invisible briefcases.” You explained and demonstrated for him with a near perfect imitation of how he walked.

“What? No I don’t. Oh wait. Yeah, I kinda do.” He realized as he watched you.

“You definitely do. Now can you please just tell me I’m right? I’ve been thinking about it all weekend. I need to hear you tell me I was right.” You begged him as you put your hands on his shoulders. Peter playfully rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and sighed.

“You right.” He mumbled.

“Yes! I knew I was right!” You cheered. “Everything makes sense now. That’s why you’re always disappearing or yawning or bruised. You’re probably up every night getting girls purses, aren’t you?”

“Not always purses.” He instead. “Sometimes it’s bikes. And one time, a mean chihuahua.”

“Wow.” You said with genuine amazement. “So how long have you been doing this?”

“Since I was 15.”

“15? Damn. I was exhausted from working 4 hours a week at Kohl’s at 15. How do you do it? You must be so tired.” You frowned and rubbed his arm kindly.

“It’s tiring but someone has to do it.” He shrugged. “Just like someone has to hand out Kohl’s cash.”

“Thats true.” You chuckled. “And that’s a very selfless way to look at it.”

“Oh. Thank you.” He smiled shyly. “But please, you can’t tell anyone about this. Nobody else knows.”

“Duh.” You replied. “This is our secret.”

“Yeah. Ours.” He smiled and felt his face heat up at the mention of something belonging to only the two of you. Your moment was cut short by one of your friends coming up to you and completely disregarding Peter.

“Hey, girl. I need your notes from class today.” She said to you.

“Oh, sure. How come you weren’t there?” You asked her.

“Liz and I went got coffee instead.” She replied. Peter could tell you were hurt they didn’t ask you to come get coffee but you just smiled and nodded.

“I’ll text them to you.” You told her.

“Thanks. Let’s go to the library. I need you to look at my English paper and tell me if it’s good.” She said and nodded towards the library. You looked at Peter and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Bye, Peter. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” You told him before leaving with your friend.

“Why were you talking to that lesbian?” Your friend asked you as you walked away.

“That wasn’t a lesbian. That was my friend Peter.” He heard you tell her before going into the library. He watched you disappear and let out a little sigh. He knew he was going to over analyze that entire conversation for probably the rest of his life, or at least until the next time you spoke.

That weekend, Peter headed to the mall a few blocks from campus to do some wandering by himself since Ned was busying. He did a little shopping before taking a seat on the mall fountain to check his texts. He was so engrossed in his phone that he didn’t notice you walk up to him.

“Well, well, well.” You chuckled, making him look up at you and blush.

“It’s a fountain, actually.” Peter deadpanned, making you crack a smile.

“You’re stupid. Move over.” You laughed and sat beside him. Your knees were touching which made Peters face warm up the way it always seemed to around you.

“Should I be worried? I’m starting to think you might be stalking me.” He teased you.

“Excuse me? I was just walking around and saw you. You’re the one who keeps ending up placed I’m already in.”

“Sounds like something a stalker would say.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.

“You wish I was your stalker. Now come on, give me the haul. What did you buy?” You asked him and nodded towards his bag.

“Socks and boxers.” He smiled proudly and held up his items.

“Oh shit. You did not come to play.”

“I really didn’t.” He played along, making you laugh again. You stared at him for a minute with a fond smile and he stared back with a matching one.

“What?” He wondered.

“You’re talking to me.”

“So?” He laughed shyly. “You’re talking to me.”

“No, I mean, like. Full eye contact. And full sentences. Who is this man? I’ve been waiting to meet him forever.” You teased him and he playfully rolled his eyes.

“I guess it’s easier to talk to you now that you know my secret. You’re not as scary anymore.”

“I was scary before?” You gasped and pretended to be offended.

“Yes. Girls like you are very terrifying to me.”

“Girls like me?” You smiled coyly.

“Pretty girls who are nice to me. I really wish you were a giant snake or the multi-bear from Gravity Falls or something. That’s way less scary.” He insisted.

“You’d rather talk to the multi-bear than me?”You scoffed. “I have half a mind to forget about you and go stalk some other guy.”

“No, please. Stay. I forgot how awkward it is to shop alone and I still need to get a belt.” He pretended to beg and put a hand on your leg to get you to stay. You looked at the hand on your leg and cracked a smile at the unexpected contact from him.

“Well I would never abandon a man on a belt quest.” You replied, making him laugh.

“Thank you. What about you? What are you looking for?”

He could have said “shopping for” but that’s not what he meant. He wanted to know what you were looking for. You cracked a smile as if you understood what he was asking.

“Better friends, actually. Have you seen any?” You asked with a playful but sad smile.

“I just saw your friends in H&M.” He told you and pointed to the store. You shrugged a little and shook your head.

“Yeah. I saw them too. After they all told me they were busy today and couldn’t hang out.” You admitted without looking at him. Peter frowned and moved closer to you.

“They came here without you?”

“I asked them to hang out. They all said they couldn’t. But now I’m getting a sneaking suspicion there’s a second group chat that I’m not in.” You laughed but he knew it was fake.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly.

“I came here to cheer myself up and ended up feeling 200 times worse when I saw them all hanging out without me. I didn’t even say anything to them because I didn’t want them to feel bad for not inviting me. Not that they ever care when they make me feel bad.” You laughed again but it ended up in a sigh. You stared at your shoes for a second and Peter stayed silent.

“Girls suck.” You said after a beat. “Not always, of course, but when they suck, they really suck. They know how painful it can be to be the only one left out. But they still did it to me. I don’t understand why.”

“Neither do I. I thought those girls were your friends?”

“I don’t know. I kinda saw this coming.” You admitted. “I started to notice that I was always the one texting first. And always the one trying to make plans. And when they did text me, they were asking me for something. It was never just to check in on me.”

“That’s really hurtful. I’m sorry. I’ve been there too. It sucks when you realize that if you stopped reaching out to someone, you’d probably never speak again.” Peter replied, making you smile sadly at him.

“Exactly. Or when you wonder how long it would take them to notice if you stopped reaching out. And worse, wonder if they’d notice at all.”

“No one deserves to feel that way. Especially not someone as kind and considerate as you. You really do need new friends.” He nodded in agreement, making you genuinely laugh this time.

“We’re friends, right? Because I know your secret.”

“We can be friends.” Peter nodded, bringing a smile out of you.

“Thanks.” You told him and gave his shoulder a rub. Peter felt a sudden burst of confidence and decided to keep the momentum he had built.

“You’re probably gonna say no to this, but Ned and I were gonna get sandwiches and then build legos together tomorrow. You can come, if you’d like.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to give me a pity invite to your sandwich and Lego party.” You told him.

“It’s not a pity invite. I want you to be there. It would make me happy to have you around.” Peter answered, making you smile once again. It was the simple change from “you can come” to “I wanted you to be there” that made all the difference.

“Do you want to hang out with me today?” You asked him.

“Yeah. I do.” He said immediately. You stood up and held out your hand for him to take.

“Come on. Let’s go look at the home decor.”

Peter took your hand and let you pull him towards the home decor store in the mall. He awkwardly ran ahead of you so that he could open the door for you but it was worth it when he saw you smiling.

“Thank you.” You said curtly and walked inside. He followed you around the store like a puppy dog and listened to your commentary on the various throw pillows and wall art as if it was words from a prophet.

“This would be perfect for you.” You gasped and held up an old Halloween pillow that had a sequenced spiderweb on it along with a spider made up of mostly fallen off beads.

“Is my job a joke to you?” He laughed and flicked the pillow.

“I mean, I did see some funny videos of you online. How often do you miss your webs and fall into bushes?”

“Bushes are rare, actually. It’s usually car hoods and hot dog stands.” He admitted.

“Ouch.” You grimaced. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“No. Hot dog stands are really soft.” He said seriously. You laughed and kept walking down the aisles of the store.

“I love that I’m the only one that knows this about you.” You told him.

“You really do, don’t you?” He realized with an amused smile.

“Well, yeah. I always knew there was something about you and learning this vindicated me so hard.”

“Something about me? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. You’re so allusive.” You shrugged. “Always disappearing and reappearing from places. Not on any sports teams but will never miss when throwing something into the trash from across the room. Knows all the answers in chemistry but never raises his hand. Ripped but hides it under Catholic school boy sweaters. I always wondered about you. Now I know.”

“Wow. You pick up on a lot of details. Nobody’s ever really noticed me like that.” Peter said as he looked at the ground so you wouldn’t see how flustered that made him.

“That you know of.” You corrected. “Because I noticed you a long time ago and you had no idea until now.”

“I notice you too.” He said as he looked into your eyes. You smiled at the eye contact and stayed looking at him.

“So, uh, were you just messing with me when you told Spiderman that you thought I was, you know.”

“A hot nerd?”

“Yeah. That.” He laughed shyly.

“I wasn’t messing with you.” You shrugged. “Or him. Either of you. I meant what I said.”

“So did I. I really don’t know how to talk to pretty girls.”

“We’re just regular people. Aside from our razor sharp teeth and detachable feet.”

“Why would you need to detach your feet?” He laughed.

“I don’t know but I used to have these dolls when I was younger where you’d yank their whole foot off to change their shoes. And they’d just have a little nub until you put new feet on them. God forbid you lose one of their shoes. Then they have no feet and had to walk around my dollhouse with nubs”.

“To be a woman is to perform.” He nodded along.

“Shut up.” You laughed and kept walking down the aisles of the store. You ended up buy some statue of an animal that you mentioned your mom liked to collect and Peter carried your bag for you into the next store.

“So who else knows about this secret? Besides us two.” You asked as you flipped through a clothing rack.

“My best friend. But that’s because he accidentally walked in on me in my suit. And my aunt. Who found out in the exact same way.”

“Sounds like you need to invest in a giant trench coat to cover yourself with when entering and exiting your room.” You told him.

“That’s a really good idea, actually. Do you think they sell those here?” He asked, making you laugh.

“So I was the first to figure it out?”

“You were. And now I’m really hoping it’s not obvious.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s obvious. I’m just very observant.”

“Of everything or just me?” He asked you.

“Just you.” You teased, making him blush again.

“What else have you observed about me?” He wondered.

“A few things, actually. You keep flexing your hand and I’m starting to think you’re working up the nerve to hold mine. That or you’re fighting the urge to punch me so I’m hoping it’s the former. I also observed that you haven’t checked your phone once since I found you and you’re letting me pick all the stores we go into.”

“Wow. And what do your observations tell you?”

“That you like me.” You said simply and continued looking at the clothes.

“What?” Peter sputtered. “No I don’t.”

“Says the boy who got my purse back from a burglar. Classic crush culture right there.” You clicked your tongue and shook your head.

“What?” He laughed. “That is not what I do when I have a crush on a girl. That’s just my job.”

“All right then. So what do you do when you have a crush?”

“Avoid eye contact and hope she likes shy tendencies. And open doors for her, obviously.” Peter said as he opened the door for you into the next store.

“Good to know.” You said and gave him a pleased smile as you passed him. He continued to follow you down the aisles of the store while holding your collection of clothes you wanted to try on.

“So why spiders? I’ve always wondered why you named yourself after arguably the worst bug of all time. Why not something more palatable like Lady Bug Man? Or Moth Man and then you could live under a bridge and spook people?” You asked as you handed him another dress for you to try on.

“It was a spider bite that gave me the abilities, actually. That’s where I got the name.” He explained as you disappeared behind a changing room curtain. You opened it up after a few seconds in one of the dresses you had taken off the rack.

“Really? I never would’ve guessed that. I’m learning so much right now.” You said as you turned around and moved your hair away from your neck. Peter blushed and picked up what you were implying and zipped the dress for you. You turned back around and gave him a grateful smile.

“What else do you want to know?” He asked with a shy smile. He usually categorized himself as shy and never wanting to be the center of attention, but right now he was hoping you had more questions to ask him. He liked being the center of attention when it was your attention he was getting.

“Why red and blue?” You wondered.

“Red for my mom’s red hair and blue for the car my dad drove.” Peter said out loud for the first time.

“Aw, Peter.” You pouted. “That’s really beautiful. I love that.”

“Thank you. I never told anybody that before.” He admitted.

“Hm. Something else just between us, then.” You winked at him before shutting the dressing room curtain again.

When you left that store, Peter opened the door for you on the way out with his free hand and held your bags with his other hand. As you walked through the mall, yours hands kept bumping against each others. It happened so many times in a row that Peter was starting to think he was doing it on purpose.

“You can, you know. If you want to.” You said without looking at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter lied as your hands bumped once again.

“Okay. Never mind, then.” You replied and kept walking. Peter decided to do something for once and took your hand. You didn’t say anything but smirked and gave his hand a squeeze. You stayed holding hands as you went to a few more stores and ended up back by the fountain. Through the streams of water, you suddenly spotted the very group of friends that had left you out.

“Oh God. It’s them.” You gasped and stopped short. Peter thought you were going to drop his hand but you didn’t.

“What are you gonna do?” He asked. “I can stick to the wall if that at all helps.”

“Well I’m definitely gonna need to see that at some point but not right now. I need to hide.” You decided and looked around for the nearest exit. During your search, you heard the sound of your friends laughing and it made your stomach drop. You didn’t want to run away anymore and pretend that the things they did didn’t hurt you. They did. And it was time they knew that.

“Actually, no.” You decided. “Why should I hide to make them more comfortable? They did something mean to me. I shouldn’t run away just so they don’t have to face what they did. I should go talk to them.”

“Let’s do it.” Peter agreed and you smiled. You blew out a nervous breath before walking up to the group of girls.

“Hey guys! So glad your schedules freed up.” You greeted them with a friendly smile. They all froze and either looked down at the ground or at you with stunned expressions. You took your time looking at every one of their guilty faces with an unamused expression.

“We were gonna text you.” Liz said quickly.

“Don’t even worry about it.” You told her. “In fact, don’t text me ever again. I deserve friends who include me. Not people who keep me around just in case they need something from me.”

“So what? You’re gonna ditch us to hang out with losers?” Liz scoffed and looked at Peter. You felt bad that Peter had caught a stray but he wasn’t phased.

“You’re the ones who just lost a good friend. And missed out on a fun day at the mall with the coolest girl in New York. So I’m pretty sure that makes you guys the losers.” Peter stated. Everyone, including you, was shocked to hear those words out of the notoriously shy Peter’s mouth. You looked at him and gave him a grateful smile.

“Yeah.” You agreed. “You guys are losers. You all say bad things about each other behind each other’s back and I’m sure you did the same to me so I can’t say I’m gonna miss this friend group. But I do have to thank you for ditching me or else I wouldn’t have found a real friend.”

“Who? This lesbian?” One of the other girls scoffed and gestured to Peter.

“Yeah.” Peter snapped. “This lesbian.“

“Now if you’ll excuse us, Peter needs to find a belt.” You said and walked away with Peter following right behind you. You didn’t drop his hand as you did a half walk half run through the mall as adrenaline rushed through you. Once you were far enough away from them, you stopped running.

“That felt good.” You said through an out of breath laugh.

“For me too.” Peter agreed. “And I was almost entirely uninvolved in that situation.”

“Come on. I wanna do the Photo Booth and immortalize this day.” You said and excitedly pulled him into the Photo Booth. Peter shut the curtain while you picked the boarder for the pictures, purposefully choosing one that had red hearts all over it.

“Okay. We only have five seconds between pictures so you have to pick your poses quickly.” You told him as the countdown began.

“But I’m so awkward. I don’t know how to pose.” Peter said as the countdown dwindled down.

“Just smile and look like you like me.” You said and pressed your cheek against his to smile for the camera. The camera flashed and you slung your arm around him for the next photo. The camera flashed again and Peter gulped.

“I do like you.” He said in a soft voice as he turned to look at you.

You looked at him and leaned in just as the camera flashed. You were still kissing when the fourth and final flash went off but you didn’t care. You pulled Peter closer by his shirt while his hands snaked around your waist. You pushed him away suddenly with a suspicious look on your face.

“Wait, do the webs, like, come out of your butt ever?”

“What? No.” He laughed. “They don’t come out of me at all. I built devices and developed a web fluid to shoot out of them. I don’t actually produce webs.”

“Oh. Okay.” You nodded and pulled him back into a kiss. He kissed you back for a moment before pulling away.

“Wait, would that have been a deal breaker if I did? Produce webs, I mean.” He asked you.

“I mean, I’d still like you but I don’t know if I could date a guy who could physically produce webs in his body. I just think that would really gross me out. Producing webs is I think where I’d have to draw the line.”

“So does that mean you’d date a guy who doesn’t produce webs?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

“Isn’t that every guy?” You pointed out.

“Oh. Yeah. I guess it kinda is.” He realized. “Well, would you date a guy who is far more likely to shoot webs from his butt than the average man? Given his spider themed career path?”

“Well, I don’t know. I never thought about that before.” You pursed your lips and pretended to give it genuine though. Peter playfully rolled his eyes at you and cupped your face to kiss you again.

“What do you think now?” He asked with your face still in his hands.

“I think I would.” You smiled and tugged his shirt to bring him back into a kiss.

Tag List

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[moonstruckme]

I had my car’s battery die the other day (still don’t know why) and I thought it would be cute if the same thing happened to reader… so like maybe she’d be on the phone with Remus and Sirius be like “my car died which sucks lol” and he’d leave work early just to help her jump start her car 😍

Sorry about your car battery babe! That used to happen to me all of the time. I wasn't quite sure who you wanted the love interest to be in this one, but since you mentioned both Remus and Sirius I went with poly wolfstar, hope that's alright <3

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 757 words

When Remus arrives home, you seem to be bickering at Sirius while he rifles through his trunk.

“I know he said they were in here somewhere.” 

“Your manager is going to be so upset with you,” you fret. “I could’ve caught the bus.” 

“Yes, but why would you when you have a perfectly good car and a perfectly capable boyfriend?” Sirius turns to toss one of his flippant grins at you, and he catches sight of Remus coming up behind him. “Hello.” He greets him with a kiss, pleasantly surprised. “I didn’t know you were walking home, love, I’d have picked you up.” 

“It’s fine,” says Remus. “I thought you were at work.” 

“He was.” You seem unable to choose between feeling cross with Sirius and guilty with yourself, but you’re definitely distressed. “He left work early, just because I texted you guys.” 

“You know,” Sirius drawls, “some people want a partner who would drop everything to come help them.” 

“I wouldn’t have said anything if I’d known you were going to leave work!”

Remus understands your upset. Sirius is perpetually on thin ice with his manager—who, in Remus’ completely unbiased opinion, is a tyrant who expects far too much sacrifice from his employees—and Remus would feel bad too if he further jeopardized Sirius’ job by accidentally calling him away from work early. But also, you’re going to be late for work if you can’t get your car started. 

“You need his car here to get a jump, dove,” Remus says. He can feel Sirius’ smugness like an aura about him, but Remus ignores it. 

You sigh, resigned but dispirited. “You didn’t have to come home, either. I was only complaining to complain.” 

Remus smiles and stretches out his arm. You fit yourself under it automatically. “I wanted to see if I could help,” he murmurs, kissing the top of your head in greeting. “Don’t be upset, okay?” 

You’re easily mollified by a soft touch and a loving tone. “Okay,” you mumble. Remus kisses your head again in thanks. 

“Alright.” Sirius stops digging around in the trunk, spreading his hands helplessly. “Are we sure we ever had jumper cables?” 

“We do,” Remus says. He lets you go to join Sirius, showing him the compartment where the spare tire and other essentials are kept. 

“Oh, a secret extra trunk. Excellent. Now, does anyone know how to use these?”

Remus has always been a public transportation beneficiary and Sirius was raised posh, so the three of you end up cloistered around Sirius’ phone watching a video about how to jump start a car. 

“Seems easy enough,” says Sirius. “So, we start my car first, then?”

“We start neither car before all the cables are attached,” you say, while Remus gives his boyfriend a worried look. 

“It seems important that we do everything in order,” Remus agrees. “Considering we’re working with electricity and such.” 

None of your objections seem to put a dent in Sirius’ confidence, however. Though nothing you’re doing involves working with grease, he takes his work shirt off “to keep it from getting dirty” and ties his hair back. It’s all rather dramatic, Remus knows, but he can’t find it in himself to protest. Neither can you, apparently. 

“Okay, so that one goes on the positive one.” 

“Right.” You tear your eyes from your boyfriend’s tattooed abdomen, visibly forcing yourself to concentrate on the battery. “Uh…” 

“The one with the plus sign, doll.” 

Sirius’ eyes dance with mirth, but he delivers the instructions patiently until both cables are connected and Remus is turning the ignition in Sirius’ car. 

“Okay, now yours!” Sirius calls to you. 

Remus hears the croaking sounds of your car trying to start, but then the engine roars to life. 

“Beautiful!” 

Remus gets out of Sirius’ car to see you beaming at each other, your upset over his leaving work clearly forgotten. Sirius looks like he’s about to pat your car approvingly, so Remus catches his hand before he can burn himself. Sirius appears not to notice the interception, only squeezing his boyfriend’s hand excitedly. 

“I’ll pull out of your way so you can get out of here,” Sirius says, backing towards his car. 

“Wait!” Your door opens, and you come running out. “Just one thing first.” 

You take Sirius’ face in your hands, planting a heavy kiss on his lips. He looks half dazed when you pull away and come for Remus, your mouth warm and sweet on his. 

You break away with a giant grin on your face. “Thanks,” you say breathlessly.

[iiping]

kaveh snapping at alhaitham for buying another ugly wood carving… except he forgot it was his birthday 👀

read my short fic on twitter here or see more below! 🫶

—

“This looks absolutely nothing like me!” Kaveh snaps at the rough-out Aranara carving that suddenly shows up one morning, looking so blonde and angry.

Alhaitham comes out of his room at this moment and walks over to their common shelf where the architect stands.

Kaveh has a meeting with a particularly frustrating client today and he’s feeling so anxious that he cannot help but snaps at Alhaitham too, “How many times do I have to tell you not to bring ugly wood carvings into our home!?”

Alhaitham looks at Kaveh, his lips tightens. Something unfathomable flashes across his eyes and disappears just as suddenly.

“Do whatever you want with it then,” Alhaitham says finally after an awkward silence. Then he grabs his key from the shelf and turns his back to walk towards the front door without saying another word.

Kaveh looks at him leaving the house in puzzlement. It is not a rare occasion to see the Scribe not bothering to argue with him but Alhaitham never walks away after saying only one sentence before. He looks as if he’s angry or even…pouting? Kaveh is not sure if that word can describe Alhaitham.

Maybe Kaveh did something wrong? He gasps at the thought.

Is it because the smell of the cream soup he made yesterday was too strong? Or maybe it was the fact that the house is now so messy because he’s in the middle of tidying up things? Or maybe he moved or touched some books he wasn’t supposed to?

Kaveh ends up thinking for the whole day. He even spaces out during the client’s meeting and almost drops the model when he tries to present his plan.

He thinks and thinks but nothing comes to his mind. They have been on unusually pretty good terms lately, so he cannot think of something recent that might have made Alhaitham upset.

Kaveh is so deep in thought he almost bumps into Collei on the way home.

“Ah! Sorry!” Kaveh exclaims then realizes who it is, “Collei! I didn’t know you were in town today!”

Somehow, the trainee Forest Ranger looks shocked to see him. She quickly picks up something that fell to the ground when they bumped into each other earlier. Kaveh catches a glimpse of a small green box with yellow ribbon before Collei swiftly hides it behind her back.

“It’s so good to see you! Wanna grab something to eat?” Kaveh asks, ignoring her suspicious behavior. He’s not ready to go home just yet, not when he still hasn’t figured out what he did wrong.

“Uh, sorry I have somewhere to be today,” Collei replies nervously, avoiding to meeting his eyes, “If you will excuse me, I really need to get going.”

Then she takes off before he can say another word.

Kaveh ruffles his hair in confusion. What is going on today?

After wandering around aimlessly for a while, he decides that he has no other place to go except the good old Lambad’s Tavern.

He sits down at a table and orders a drink even though it’s merely 5PM.

“Hey, Kaveh!” Lambad shouts his name from behind the counter, “That one’s on the house! Happy Birthday!”

Oh. Shit.

A realization strikes him like a bolt of lightning.

“How could I forget!” he cries, standing up abruptly, “It is my birthday!”

He tells Lambad that he’ll take a raincheck on that glass of wine before leaving the tavern. Kaveh rushes home as fast as he can and finds Alhaitham standing in front of the shelf with the Aranara carving on one hand and a bag on another.

Alhaitham raises his eyebrows when he sees Kaveh practically flying from the front door.

“No, wait—-“ Kaveh tries to catch his breath, “D-don’t throw that away!”

“Oh?” Alhaitham puts down the Aranara and turns to face the architect. “Seems like you finally remember something.”

“Sorry for what I said this morning,” Kaveh blurts out, “I know it sounds like an excuse but that client’s project kept me frustrated all night and I shouldn’t have taken it on you.”

Alhaitham looks at him silently.

“Alright, alright,” Kaveh puts two hands in the air, “I apologize for calling it ugly.”

The Scribe lets out a chuckle right this second. It is clear that he does not intend put up any fights with Kaveh on his birthday.

Alhaitham hands him the Aranara in question and asks, “Will you also stop calling my other wood carvings ugly?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Kaveh replies with a beaming smile. His eyes light up as he takes the wooden figure in his hands.

Alhaitham gives him birthday presents every year but they are usually books or drafting tools. This is the first time Kaveh has received something custom-made. Well, from anyone, really.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me this morning,” he mumbles, feeling the rough wood under his fingers. “Sure, it looks a bit cruder than that one in your bedroom which I kind of like, but the more you look at it, the mor—- Hey!”

“I changed my mind,” Alhaitham announces with a straight face, the Aranara is now back to his hand. “I’m taking it back.”

Kaveh blinks.

“What did you just say!?” he raises his voice.

“I don’t see any reasons why it should be in the possession of someone who doesn’t appreciate it,” he replies simply while putting the wooden figure in the bag, then starts to walk to the entrance hall.

“How do you know I don’t appreciate it!?” Kaveh follows him, trying so hard not to yell at his back, “This is ridiculous! You just gave it to me literally a second ago!”

That does not make Alhaitham slow down one bit. In the heat of the moment, Kaveh charges at him without thinking.

Next thing he knows, they are both on the floor with Alhaitham being beneath him. He quickly snatches the bag from the Scribe’s hand and sits up.

“Ha!” Kaveh exclaims, raising it in the air in victory. “You cannot walk away from me this time! Don’t you know that it’s rude to take back what you have given!?”

When there isn’t any response, Kaveh glances down, only to see that Alhaitham is covering his face laughing.

Kaveh looks at this scene in disbelief.

“Were you just teasing me!?” he asks with a high-pitched voice, “Oh my god, who are you? What have you done to my Alhaitham?”

“I couldn’t help,” he is still laughing, “You should’ve seen your face.”

It’s extremely rare for Kaveh to see a silly side of Alhaitham, let alone seeing him laughing like this. Kaveh stares dazedly at him, completely forgetting why he was mad in the first place.

“You can have the Aranara,” Alhaitham says with a smile, “Will you get off me now? Although I don’t really mind—-”

Kaveh interrupts this sentence with a cough, just realizing what a dangerous position they are in. He shifts to move out of the way, but at this moment, a small piece of paper falls of the bag and lands on Alhaitham’s chest.

The Scribe’s eyes widen as he moves to reach for it, but Kaveh is quicker.

Seeing what’s on there, he is speechless.

Alhaitham covers his face again, but his ears are turning visibly red. The worse thing is, Kaveh can also feel his face burning too.

“You carved this,” he asks softly, “for me?”

After a while, Alhaitham admits with a sigh, “Yes.”

Kaveh is dumbfounded. He assumed that it was merely a commission. Never has he ever thought Alhaitham would go that far to do something like this for him.

“That’s why you’ve been coming home late for the past week!” Kaveh just remembers how unusual it was when he said that he needed to work overtime.

“You knowing this wasn’t part of the plan, I was too careless.” he says flatly and decides to pull himself up, unintentionally getting closer to Kaveh. “Now it’s good time for you to forget you have seen that workshop receipt.”

“Nuh-uh,” Kaveh pokes his chest, “This Aranara is now worth a million mora to me.”

“You have just burdened yourself with a new enormous debt then” Alhaitham teases.

“Hey!”

“I think wood craving has grown on me.” Alhaitham smiles, “So I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with these ugly figurines for now.”

“Come on, they are not that ugly,” Kaveh chuckles, “But we do need to set up a proper corner for them so they don’t disrupt the current aesthetic.”

The Scribe can’t help but roll his eyes at this comment.

“Seriously though, thank you” Kaveh softly touches his shoulder and looks directly into his eyes, “It’s the first time someone did something so special for me. I will always treasure it.”

The Scribe stares back at him and without a warning, Alhaitham pulls him into his arms and whispers to his hair, “Happy Birthday, Kaveh.”

After that, Collei, along with Cyno and Tighnari, burst open their front door right when they are still hugging in the hallway. Kaveh’s face turns as red as a tomato as Alhaitham helps him up on his feet.

The night cannot be more perfect. The house is filled with the smell of good food, laughers and joy. His most favorite dishes are laid out on the table and the gifts are waiting for him to open. Wine never tastes better and even Cyno’s jokes are funnier than usual.

Kaveh watches as everyone starts to eat and cheerfully discuss about what games they are going to play tonight. His heart aches a bit thinking of how much he does not want to ever lose this; his friends, his happiness, his home.

And when his eyes accidentally meet with Alhaitham’s, he cannot help but wonder, would things turn out differently if he hadn’t met the Scribe at the tavern that night where he had taken Kaveh in?

He tries harder now to stay happy, to actually listen to some of Alhaitham’s advice, the sensible ones at least.

“Don’t burden yourself with something unnecessary from the past and from the future”, he would say.

So instead of dwelling on the past regrets and unknown future, Kaveh thinks he is ready now to find comfort in the present happiness.

(END)

[vicsnook]

Out of Oklahoma | Tyler Owens x Reader

word count: 3326

warnings: Tornadoes, Loss, Implied smut

notes: Hey y’all 🤠 I am back with some more content! When I tell y’all I was sat at that theater. Even my boyfriend was thirsting over Glen (specifically in the rain scene, iykyk). Anyways, hope y’all enjoy this one and please don’t forget to like and reblog 🫶🏼.

I crawl out of the hotel bed at 5, hitting the snooze button on the way to the bathroom. My reflection looks back at me less than thrilled for what’s to come today.

Apparently the world hates me because there is no coffee to brew when I check the kitchenette, so now my day’s gone from bad to worse. I check my phone and sure enough I have a million messages from my dumba-sweet brother Boone about how he can’t wait for me to meet his friends.

I'm not ready for that. But nevertheless I carry on and make my way to the airport to board a flight to take me home, to Oklahoma. It’s fine, I think to myself. It’s all going to be okay. But I know it’s a lie. Still I get on the plane and pretend I’m going somewhere tropical instead of the one place I swore I wouldn’t return to.

The wheels touch down roughly on the strip, startling me awake. Here goes nothing. The airport is packed but thankfully all I have is my carry on which holds what little I left to California with six months ago. So much for making a life for myself.

The old Ram is parked just outside the doors and I know I can’t put this off any longer. After what happened last year, I want to turn around and get the hell out of dodge but I can’t avoid him forever. Not when my family needs me, well what’s left of it. “Well, well, well, look at what the cat drug in.”

I sigh and look up, locking eyes with the one person I didn’t want to see ever again. Tyler Owens. My ex-fiancée.

“Tyler. Nice to see you didn’t get blown away by a Tornado,” I force out with the fakest smile I can muster. God knows I’d love to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, amongst other things, I shake my head dismissing the stupid thought.

“Y/N, good to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor. That all your luggage?” he asks, grabbing my carry on from me and placing it in the bed of the truck before I can even answer. “Yep,” I mumble, getting into the truck.

“So, where’s Boone?” I ask, trying to ease the tension.

Tyler glances over at me and I feel my stomach do a stupid flip. Stop it!

“He’s at your Nana’s house dealing with some of the insurance people. I’m really sorry about what happened, Y/N.” he says. “We tried to warn them.”

“I know,” I say. “It’s not your fault, Tyler. You didn’t know it would turn and hit them directly.” I start to reach for his arm to comfort him but pull it back, the gesture feeling inappropriate after all that happened between us.

He nods and continues to drive on. Him and Boone blame themselves but I know there’s nothing they could’ve done. I just wish they’d see it that way.

-

The ruins of the home we grew up in come into view and my heart shatters all over again. The anger bubbling in my stomach as I see all the tornado took from us. Why!? Why us!? I want to scream at the sky as I walk up to my brother who I can tell is barely holding it together.

“Hey Boonie,” I whisper, hugging his back. His breathing shakes as he turns and pulls me into a hug, nearly suffocating me. “I tried sissy, I really did but they’re gone.” he says, “I was too late.”

I hold him as he finally breaks down and I try whispering reassurances in his ear but I know he’s not listening. My eyes make contact with Tyler’s as he heads towards the rubble and begins to sort things out.

“It’s not your fault, Boonie.” I say, holding his face so he looks at me. “There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

He nods quietly, pulling me in for another hug as the guilt consumes me for having left him behind. I should’ve never gone to California.

-

I follow Tyler to the entrance of the dingy motel on the edge of town, still holding on to Boone’s hand. “Thank you for coming, Y/N.” Boone says, handing me the key to my room. “Always,” I respond. Squeezing his hand one last time as he turns to go to his room.

“Where’s the rest of your crew? I haven’t seen them.” I ask Tyler as we head up the stairs since our rooms are on the second floor. “They’re helping some people downtown that got hit too. They asked me to give you their condolences.” He answers, stopping in front of my door.

“Um, thanks and thank you for all you’ve been doing for Boone. I hate that I couldn’t get here sooner.” I say. “California wasn’t all I thought it’d be.”

“Tried to tell ya.”

“I know. I'm sorry, Tyler.”

He moves a step forward and drops his mouth beside my ear, the distance between us almost non-existent. “Nothing to be sorry about, darling.” He drawls, pulling back, then turning around and walking into his room, leaving me in the hallway.

This man will be the death of me.

-

The weeks go by slowly as we deal with the insurance but somewhere along the way we finally get Nana’s ashes back. Boone and I take them out to the river, spreading them at the one place she loved most.

“So how are things between Kate and Tyler?” I ask Boone as we head back to the motel from the pizza parlor.

My stomach clenches, waiting for his answer.

He looks at me and grins. “Why you want to know Sissy? Any interest in getting back in that saddle?”

“Ew! No! I was just curious, Boone.” I say, glaring at him while he laughs.

“They never really were anything serious. She ran off to New York City the second she got her research. Oklahoma held too many painful memories for her or something.”

I nod. Pulling into the motel parking lot that we now call home. That is until the money from the insurance comes through and we can get to rebuilding Nana’s place.

“There’s the man of the hour.” Says Boone pointing at Tyler who’s getting out of his truck. The white shirt clinging to his chiseled chest because of the rain.

He really does look good in a cowboy hat. I think, quickly shaking my head trying to erase the thought. “Close your mouth Sissy, you’re gonna get drool all over yourself.” Boone teases and I playfully smack him, tearing my eyes off Tyler.

“You know Sissy, I don’t get it.”

“Get what?” I ask, turning off the ignition.

“How y’all girls run away from that man. I mean I ain’t blind and I may be biased because he’s my best friend but his personality doesn’t suck either.” I sigh, knowing he’s not wrong.

“It’s complicated.” I finally say, and get out of the car. Heading for my room before Boone can add anything else.

-

“Where are we going?” I ask again for the millionth time. Letting Tyler and Boone blindfold me was starting to seem like a mistake the longer we were in the truck.

It also didn’t help that Tyler was playing the cd I burned for him back in high school.

“Almost there, Sissy.” Boone assures me, as the truck left the paved road and headed down a dirt road. Please Lord don’t let this be another one of Boone’s pranks.

Tyler helps me out the truck and leads me down a rocky path. My nerves increasing by the second and wondering where my brother had ran off to.

“Tada!” yells Boone, the bandana falling off my eyes as Tyler pulls off the knot.

“I know it ain't much Sissy but I couldn’t let you keep living in that Motel much longer.” Boone says, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the tiny home that now sits behind where Nana’s new house will be. “So, you hate it?”

“No! Thank you so much!” I yell, pulling him into a hug. “You really didn’t have to do this Boonie.” Tears stream down my face as my brother squeezes me. Thank you God for such a good brother.

“I can’t take all the credit, it was Tyler’s idea after all.” Boone whispers to me. I nod, pulling away and wiping the tears off my cheeks.

Lord knows if things were different I’d be running to Tyler and giving him a big ol’ kiss right now. But they aren’t. I remind myself so I settled for just saying “Thank you, Ty.”

“Not a problem.” He says, turning to follow my brother to my now little home.

-

“Please work, come on!” I yell at the shower. My little home was nothing but perfect, well except for the water which always seemed to go out at the most inconvenient times.

I try calling Boone but I’m greeted by his voicemail which only leaves one other person to call. Sighing I pull up his contact and dial. Ignoring the contact picture that I never bothered to change.

“Hello?”

“Hey, um sorry to bother but I can’t reach Boone and my water went out again while I was washing my hair,” I say, already regretting calling him.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” He replies, hanging up before I can say anything else. I pull on a bathrobe and tidy up before he gets here. I wince when I see my hair in the mirror, suds still in it but oh well. Tyler’s seen me how the lord made me so I doubt a little bit of suds will make me ugly.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts by his knocking and I think as I open the door that maybe I should’ve thrown some clothes on. “Hey,” I say, stepping aside as he makes his way to the water heater closet to check there first.

The minutes pass and the silence is eating me alive. The temptation to say that I was wrong for ending things the way I did consumes me. So much so that I don’t realize he’s talking to me until he comes to stand in front of me.

“Earth to Y/N? It’s fixed. You shouldn’t have any more issues.”

“Thanks Ty. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” I reply, his eyes meeting mine.

“Live your life without fear of me dying everyday because of what I do,” he says, it's clear to me then that the wound is still very much open.

He starts to head for the door but I’m quick to get up and grab his arm, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Ty, I’m sorry. I was wrong, okay? All I did was trade tornadoes for earthquakes. Happiness for misery. I was wrong and I shouldn’t have left the way I did.” I say, my eyes searching for his.

“You left me, Y/N. You packed your bags and left without saying a word, leaving all of us behind. So, no, sorry doesn’t cut it here. I’m sorry about your Nana but you made your mistakes. Live with them.” He replies, the anger in his eyes sending chills down my spine. I swallow the lump in my throat long enough for him to walk out and slam the door on his way out. What the fuck did I do and how can I even fix it?

-

** 6 months later **

Nana’s house is finished. It looks similar to the one the tornado tore from the ground but me and Boone know it couldn’t be more different.

We bring in what we could salvage slowly and try to make it look as closely as possible to the original one. Lastly, placing a picture of Nana, Boone, and I, that Lily recovered from the wreckage on the mantel.

“Close enough,” Boone whispers, sitting on the couches that Dani and Dexter got us.

“Yeah, I just wish she was still here.” I reply, sitting across from him. “You going chasing again today?”

“Yeah, but I promise we’re being safe sissy. We don’t do that driving into tornadoes and shooting off fireworks anymore after Nana,” He answers, sadness filling his features.

“Just be safe,” I mutter, taking a seat next to him and letting him pull me into a hug. “Always.”

“For what it’s worth, he’s not really mad at you. He’s mad at himself for not realizing sooner how far gone you were until it was too late.”

A sigh escapes me as he gets up, giving me a faint smile before walking out the door. Off to chase the very thing that took the last bit of family we had.

-

The rain came in buckets. All day it’d been so pretty but as soon as I stepped outside the grocery store, I saw how much the sky had changed. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as lightning struck.

Rushing to my car, I threw the groceries in the back seat but before I could throw the car in reverse I heard it.

The tornado sirens.

I threw open the car door and started sprinting back into the grocery store but a cry for help stopped me before I could make it in. Lord please protect them. I prayed quickly.

Debris was already flying all around me when I turned to look for the source of the pleas and then I spotted her. A girl who looked no more than 15 was on the ground in the parking lot, her leg in a cast and her crutches nowhere to be seen. “Please help me!”

I ran towards her. My body going into overdrive as the wind threatened to push me over too. “Please don’t let me die,” she begged as I threw her arm around me and hurried back for the door.

The wind picked up even more and the rain turned into hail as I trekked through the lot trying to make it back inside. The short distance seemed infinite.

I felt it before I could even turn. It was there. The loud roar filled my ears as I pulled the girl in front of me and with the last of my strength I had, I pushed her to where the door was.

Then my feet left the ground as the tornado sucked me in and I felt the world go black.

-

“Bo-one?” I rasp, my throat on fire and my entire body feeling like it’d been run over. The events leading up to this moment slowly coming back to me as I struggle to open my eyes.

“Hey, he’s just outside talking to the doctor, let me get him,” replies Tyler softly. My eyes adjust to the harsh hospital lights as he steps out the door and taps Boone on the shoulder.

My head pounds as I take in my surroundings. Scratches cover up both my arms. If I looked into a mirror right now I’d probably collapse.

“Sissy! Thank God you’re okay!” Hollers Boone as he comes to my bedside, careful not to hurt me when pulling me to him. “I thought I lost you.”

His tears wetting my hospital gown as I hug him back as best I could. “I’m okay, Boonie.” I whisper in his ear as he sobs.

“Is the girl okay?” I ask, worry filling me up at the thought that she didn’t make it.

“Yes, she made it inside just in time, Sissy. You saved her life.” Boone says, taking my head in his hands and pressing our foreheads together like we did when we were kids.

I close my eyes, nodding and thanking God that we were all okay.

“I need to go sign some paperwork but if you’re feeling up to it, we can take you home today. You got lucky,” Boone tells me while getting up from my hospital bed.

“I’d love nothing more than my bed.” I reply, shooting him a smile as he steps out.

I turn to Tyler who’s been quietly standing in the corner this whole time and I notice his swollen eyes. My heart squeezing at the thought of having worried him and Boone.

“Hey,” I mutter, and his eyes finally meet mine.

“Guess Boone isn’t the only tornado chaser in the family huh,” he jokes, still standing in the corner.

“Guess not,” I reply, chuckling but my throat is so dry that it turns into a cough and he’s rushing to my bedside with a glass of water in hand.

“Thank you,” I manage to say as I chug the water. Instant relief filling my throat. “So, can you fill me in on what happened after I got sucked into the tornado?”

“Uh, well witness accounts are that you pushed the girl inside and then got sucked in. Me and Boone had been chasing the tornado and pulled into the lot as it dissipated.” He stops, taking a seat on the bed and grabbing my hand. “The people in the supermarket started pouring out and screaming that you got sucked in, of course at the time we didn’t know it’d been you. Nevertheless we all started searching and found you passed out on top of a tarp in the baseball field.”

“Oh wow, that’s quite the distance. Saved myself some gas for sure,” I joke, but he doesn’t laugh. “Y/N, you could’ve died. You got out with scratches and a story but you could’ve died,” he says, a somber look on his face.

“Hey, I’m okay. I didn’t die. Nana protected me,” I tell him, tipping his face so his eyes meet mine. “I got a second chance to start over and,” but he cuts me off.

“I love you,” he says, then his lips crash into mine. The kiss knocks the air out of my lungs but as he pulls away, I recover and pull him back to my lips.

When he finally draws back, his eyes are teary but there is no sadness in them anymore. “I’m sorry for walking out on you, if you had died, I don’t know how I could live with myself, knowing how I left things,” he says, his words piercing my heart.

“Hey,” I say softly, “I’m here and I’m okay. I know there’s a lot we need to talk about but I can promise you this, I’m not leaving Oklahoma. Ever.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” I whisper, leaning in to meet his lips.

But before we can finish our moment with a kiss Boone is bursting through the door.

-

** One month later **

“Ty! Dinner’s ready!” I holler, and I hear the sound of the shower turning off. Making my way to the living room I stop and pick up my Nana’s picture, thank you for saving me. I think to myself and put it back down.

“Ty! Come on!” I yell, quietly sneaking up the stairs to our room. Glad that Boone’s off with Lily at the fair.

“Coming!” I hear him yell from the bathroom. The towel is wrapped around his waist and drops of water make their way down his abs. Man, I’d sure love to be that towel. I think to myself as I watch from the door crack but am greeted with a smirk when I make my way up to his face.

“Hey darlin’, coming to see the view?” he asks cheekily, turning to me. Busted.

“Well you’re the one who says “if you feel it, chase it,” and I sure am feeling a lot of things right now,” I reply, letting my eyes trail down his chest.

“Oh, yeah?” he replies, coming closer. “Well you better start running.”

I giggle and turn to run but don’t even make it out the room before he’s tackling me to the bed. Dinner is gonna be real cold when we’re done here.

[undressrehearsal]

is it casual now?

chapter 1

summary: you and ellie agreed that this was just for a little fun - so what's the harm in her inviting you to joel's for a movie night?

word count: 2.3k

tags: nsfw, fingering (e and r receiving), angst, dub con?? i think?, does this count as public sex?, this shit's messy af y'all, mean reader, toxic relationship

a/n: i've wanted to write a fic based off this song for a while now. i've seen a few people write it (the song's a banger) but i only ever see ellie being written as the distant toxic one and tbh i don't think that matches her character so here's the opposite

also i hid a one last stop reference in here if you find it you get a prize (it's not hard to find)

if you wanna be tagged in the things i post, just lmk in the replies!

Joel was trying to decide what movie you should watch. 

At least, Ellie thought he was. She could see the way his lips were moving - could even make out the words Dawn of the Wolf, whatever that meant - but she couldn’t actually hear him. She sat across from him at the dining table, nodding along, trying to school her expression into a pantomime of interest, but his words were drowned out by the ringing in her ears. 

Your hand on her thigh crept higher. 

Ellie shifted in the uncomfortable wood chair, uncrossing her legs only to recross them, and your hand didn’t move. You stroked slow circles into her jeans with your thumb; she would have thought it was absentminded if she didn’t know you so well. Ellie could see you in her peripheral. You smiled politely, nodding along as Joel listed off what movies he had found lately - it had become his mission to hunt for them while he was on patrol. (He always insisted that Ellie needed to be familiar with all the classics from before the outbreak.) 

Somewhere past the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, Ellie heard Joel say her name. She blinked, shifted in her seat again, and replied intelligently, “Huh?” 

He shook his head at her and laughed as he said, “Where you at, kiddo?” 

She ran a hand through her hair, purposely avoiding looking at you - she knew she’d only find that shit-eating smile on your face. “Sorry, had patrol late last night. Yeah, that movie sounds cool.” She had no idea what movie he had suggested. 

It didn’t matter much in the end. After switching off the lights, Joel sat back in his big old recliner (he’d looked like a fucking kid on Christmas morning when Tommy gave that to him), leaving the couch to you and Ellie. You leaned into her with your head on her shoulder; she had her arm draped over the back of the couch, not quite touching you. She was dancing a fine line between wanting to hold you and knowing you wouldn’t let her, but the tightrope was slipping from under her feet because you had put your fucking hand on her thigh again. She’d swear there was a damn magnet connecting your hand to her. 

Ellie covered a gasp with a cough when your hand drifted between her legs. Your eyes were glued to the flickering television, but there was no hiding the small, satisfied smile on your lips. And she fucking hated herself for wanting to kiss it more than anything. 

The tattered blanket you shared covered up the fact that the tips of your fingers were grazing across the seam of her jeans. Even the ghost of friction made her squirm, the movie becoming nothing more than white noise. You were too fucking bold, and her head spun when your nimble fingers undid the button and slid the zipper down so slowly it ached. When your fingertips dipped below the waistband of her boxers, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Joel. He was enthralled in the movie, and she couldn’t even pay attention to it; she hated herself for that too. 

She knew she shouldn’t; she knew she should’ve grabbed your wrist, told you to stop so she could just enjoy the movie with her… with Joel. He’d been trying to plan a movie night with her for a week, and tonight she had finally been free from patrol. God, she shouldn’t have invited you, but when he asked if she wanted to bring a friend, of course your name had popped up. 

She should have known it would be a mistake - an intoxicating one, but a mistake nonetheless. And when you dragged your fingers over her, pressing the lightest pressure to her clit, it took everything in her not to tilt her hips against your hand in search of friction. 

Ellie bit down on her lip so hard she'd swear she tasted blood when you dipped just the tips of your fingers inside her. It was embarrassing how easy it was - how wet she already was and you had hardly even touched her. But when you circled her clit, your fingers already soaked, the shame burning in her chest evaporated. Her eyes fluttered, heat burning in her stomach, your touch setting her aflame. Her fingers dug into the back of the couch. She longed to touch you, to just wrap her arm around you and hold you close, press your head to her chest so you could hear how her heart reached for you. 

Instead, she could only grip the couch behind your shoulder, gritting her teeth against the ache of it. You didn't even look at her, playing with her as though it were an afterthought, but there was no missing the smirk on your lips. She hated it; God, she wanted to kiss you. 

Ellie didn't dare look at Joel - she didn't think she could handle seeing him so engrossed in the movie he had been so excited to show her while she sat only a few feet away, coming undone on his couch. She couldn't handle the shame rising in her throat again. If she looked at him, she was sure she'd be sick right there. 

She tried so hard to keep it together - her hips ached from the force of holding them still, her lip surely cracked from biting it. Her chest burned with the moans she had to swallow like acid. But she couldn't keep it all in - it was overflowing. And when finally, the coil in her stomach threatening to snap, a low groan spilled from her lips, Joel turned to look at her. 

Ellie didn't want to think about what he saw, but whatever it was, it made his brow pinch in concern. She couldn't meet his worried eyes when he said, “You okay, kiddo? You don't look too good.” 

Your fingers hadn't even fucking slowed. You looked at her with a mask of concern, batting your eyes so innocently even as you pressed your fingers into her, curling them so you hit that spot that made her see stars. And then Ellie did grab you, gripping your shoulder in warning and glaring down at you. You wrinkled your nose, but relented and slid your fingers out of her; her grip tightened when you slid back over her clit. Fuck, she never should've invited you. 

Ellie cleared her throat; she couldn't look at either of you without feeling sick, so she turned her gaze to the movie. What was it even about? 

“Sorry, I just-” Her voice was strained, suffocating in her own throat. She felt like she was going to swallow her own tongue. The coil in her stomach tightened and she felt nauseous. She groaned again, and the words tripped over themselves in a rush when she said, “I don't feel good.” 

Ellie stumbled to her feet, forcing you to withdraw your hand; when she glanced down, she could see that your fingers were wet and it made her stomach twist. Keeping one hand over her stomach to hide the fact that her fucking pants were undone, she hurried from the room, ignoring Joel when he called after her. She couldn't look him in the eye or else she might actually puke.

Making a beeline for the bathroom, Ellie slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, the wood cold against her back. She took a deep breath, counting the cracks in the ceiling until her heart finally stopped bashing against her ribs, her throat burning. Pinprick tears stung her eyes as she fixed her pants, her fingers shaking so hard she could hardly grasp the button. 

Cursing under her breath, Ellie braced her hands on the bathroom sink, her shoulders sagging. Her eyes were rimmed red; she scrubbed her hands over her face roughly, willing her stomach to settle. 

She shouldn’t have been upset, really. The first time your hand had found its way into her pants, all those months ago, you had made it perfectly clear what this was. She could still hear your voice from that night, saccharine sweet and smelling like the whiskey you had nabbed from her cabinet: Come on, Els, Jackson’s so boring. We can just have a little fun, right? She remembered the weight of your body when you climbed onto her lap, your thighs warm on either side of her hips, your hands pressing her back against the couch. She could still feel the way your breath had ghosted over her neck, your voice dripping with honeyed desire: It's just a little fun.

Her own eyes looked so unfamiliar, a stranger peering at her from the bathroom mirror. 

Cursing again, she turned on the faucet, bending to splash water on her face - it was December and the water was so cold it numbed her hands. It was a welcome relief against her burning skin. 

Ellie felt so fucking dirty it hurt. No matter how she scrubbed at her skin, rubbing it raw, she couldn’t seem to rid herself of it. The cold water stung her cheeks. 

A knock on the door made her jump, cold water splashing down the front of her shirt. She cursed, pulling the damp fabric away from her chest with a grimace before calling, “Give me a minute, okay?” 

But you had never been very good at listening, had you? You didn’t even look surprised when you pushed the door open, ignoring her protest, and found Ellie leaning against the counter, water still dripping from her chin. If anything, you looked almost amused, quirking an eyebrow at her. It was the look you gave her every time you got her worked up, your eyes showing the laughter you bit back. She fucking hated that look. 

Ellie glared over her shoulder at you, but there was no real malice behind it - even when she hated you, something in her still softened when you were around. A switchblade girl with a cotton candy heart. 

You closed the door softly behind you, leaning back against it with a smug smile that she wanted to wipe off your face - she just wasn’t sure how she wanted to yet. Ellie could hear how your ego tinted your voice when you said, “Joel sent me to check on you. Probably thinks you're barfing your guts out or something.” 

Ellie rolled her eyes, looking away from you and mumbling, “Yeah, I guess dinner didn’t sit well….” 

You scoffed and the sound went straight to her stomach. She felt rather than saw you step behind her; she tensed when you placed your hands on her hips, leaning forward to put your chin on her shoulder. Her hands gripped the edges of the sink so hard she thought the porcelain might crack. She could feel the heat of your body all the way down her back, your hips pressing into her ass, and her traitorous heart fluttered embarrassingly. 

Ellie met your eyes in the reflection, watching as your smile grew into something almost mocking. You placed a kiss on the back of her neck, pressing your words into her skin: “Damn, Els, I didn’t know Dawn of the Wolf got you so hot and bothered.” Your fingers pressed into her hips, pulled her back against you. She failed to smother the sigh it pulled from her. She hated how it made your smile widen, and she hated even more how much she wanted to fucking kiss it off your stupid face. She shivered when she felt your teeth graze over her neck, and almost missed it when you muttered, laughing, “God, you’re so fucking easy, you know that?” 

Ellie shoved away from the counter, spinning on her heel and grabbing your wrist before you could flinch away. You had only blinked before she slammed you back against the wall, praying that Joel didn’t hear it. Her fingers wrapped so tightly around your wrist she could feel your pounding pulse, pressing it to the wall above your head. She slipped her thigh between your legs, pressing up into you, and she only had a moment to register that smug fucking grin before she slapped a hand over your mouth. She relished in the way your eyes flashed in something akin to fear. She had to find wins where she could, right? 

Leaning forward so her nose brushed yours, Ellie growled into the back of her hand, “Don’t make a fucking sound.” 

And she did get to wipe that cocky smile off your face. She kept her hand over your mouth, releasing your wrist to snake her arm between your legs. She muffled your moans, hissing when your nails dug into her biceps. 

Joel was in the next room, she thought distantly. Joel was in the next room, watching the movie he had been so excited to show her. He was in the next room, concerned about her, waiting for her, and here she was pressing her best friend into the wall of his bathroom. She had your pants around your ankles, two - three - fingers pushing into you. She could feel the vibrations of your moans against her hand - she wanted to press her lips to yours and swallow them, knowing you would never let her. 

It came too fast, Ellie pressing into you relentlessly if only to make you fucking shut up for once. Your body shuddered against her, and she wanted to hold you through it, but by the time it was over you were already pushing her away. When her hand fell from your mouth, you were smiling again. Maybe she was going to be sick after all. 

@filtered-sunlight

[thatlittlered]

would've, could've, should've | aaron hotchner

warning(s): one whole curse word, smoking, stunning amount of fluff and a little bit of action

GIF by @littlecarmine

part one

part two

author's note: Sorry for the delay, hope it was worth it! I also want to thank the sweet anon for the ask with the Robert Siken poem, which I included here. Next part will be straight-up filthy smut, so stay tuned, fellow sluts.

Follow me @MadeofLilies on Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

You don’t see much of each other for the next couple of days. Aaron is on autopilot, avoiding any chance to be alone with you. The rest of the team unknowingly act as a buffer and all he has to do is not look at you during work hours, keep the door to his office shut to not hear your laughter.

It’s a relief when you and Morgan are called to testify in court for a case. You’re somewhere far away for the day, where he knows you’re safe and he can go back to pretending nothing has changed.

The problems start when he’s not being kept busy.

 How much paperwork can one person do?

The stars align oddly in his favor and he’s into calls or meetings until long after everyone else has gone home. When ten pm rolls around, he finally calls it quits but sees no point in leaving in a hurry. It’s past Jack’s bed time, it’d be cruel to wake him up now and carry him back home when tomorrow’s Sunday. If all goes well, he can pick him in the morning and they’ll get to spend the day together.

His finger is hovering over Jessica’s number when he spots your name in his call logs. It’s silly and childish, but he hasn’t thought of you in a couple of hours and God.

Deep down, he knows he’s been incredibly unfair to you. He had to. Had to tell himself it was something outside of him causing him torment. An obstacle to overcome, a distraction to ignore. He had to act as if you were forcing your way into his life in order to be able to put up walls, but what have you really done except exist near him? He is the one to blame for allowing it to grow beneath his skin; succumbing to his need for some sort of intimacy when he could have -should have- nipped this at the bud a very long time ago. He recognized it within himself the other day, when he realized he could have -should have- kissed you.

But nothing is healed with a kiss. Only new grievances arise.

It’s where you go from there that matters and he finds himself unable to guide or be guided.

Where do you go from here?

When he decides to feed his insomnia with a cup of late-night coffee, he is yet again reminded of you. So, he calls, but you don’t answer and he pours another, completely indifferent to the idea of sleep.

It’s getting too late to be here, even by his standards. He tries calling again, but, no answer. He gathers his stuff to leave and there is a horrible feeling at the pit of his stomach when he settles inside the car. It’s only eleven and you always say you never sleep this early.

Another call, this time to Emily, who miraculously, picks up.

“Hello? Hotch?”

There is a deafening buzz in the background; loud voices and music blasting.

Aaron apologizes for the late hour and tries to be discreet when he asks about you. Says he needs to go over something about a case file but you won’t answer his calls and he got worried.

“Yeah, she’s fine, she’s right here with me, but it’s a little hard to get her right now. Is it urgent?”

“Uh, no, don’t bother her. Is everyone else there too?”

“Not everyone, just the two of us, Garcia and Morgan. Do you need them as well?”

You didn’t invite him, why would you? He would have never said yes.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Sorry, sir, I can’t make out much with all this noise. We’re at the ‘Matter’ if you need us. I’ll tell the guys to call you as soon as they can, okay? Have a good night.”

So, he drives two miles a little before midnight to come sit outside ‘Matter’, which is apparently a very busy nightclub downtown, half a mile away from the nearest parking spot he could find.

He doesn’t really know why he came.

He can’t come in and join you. Can’t ask for you.

They probably wouldn’t even let him in while dressed like this.

It’s very unclear what the next step is.

He knows it’s pointless to call you again when you’re probably too busy dancing and drinking with a great many people who are not him. Morgan has some trouble keeping his hands to himself when he drinks.

He sits on the curb of the street, cracks open the pack of cigarettes he snack out of the car’s glove compartment, always hidden below the insurance papers. Astoundingly loud music plays every time the doors to the club open and people come out stumbling, kissing sloppily and dragging each other away.

He just wants to see you and put this horrible feeling inside him to rest.

“No fucking way.”

He jolts at the sound of your voice and throws away the cigarette, putting it out with his shoe before he turns to see you standing outside the club. You approach timidly until you can be sure it’s him and when you step closer to the streetlight, he can really see you. The clothes you could never wear to work, the shoes you apparently spend all your money on. You’re beautiful.

He can’t possibly move until you’re sat beside him. For the first time in what seems like forever, now that he’s grown so used to it, you keep a very respectable distance between your bodies.

“You didn’t have to throw it away; I already saw you and,” you pick up the abandoned carton from the sidewalk and almost laugh at how immaculate it looks just having been opened, “I have so many questions. Since when do you smoke?”

His voice is quiet, unamused.

“Almost never.”

You look at him curiously and he thinks you would make a great interrogator simply by the way you make everyone around you spill their souls out if it will satisfy you.

“Sometimes when I’m very stressed.”

You hum, “I never would have guessed that.”

He laughs to himself and looks at his hands.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of things that are not typical of me lately.”

You help yourself to a cigarette and he cups his hand over yours when the breeze makes it too hard to light up.

“Is that because of me? Am I a bad influence?”

“No. It’s me, I’m the common denominator.”

You hum again and smile at him teasingly in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Breakthrough.”

“So, this is what therapy is like?”

He wants to thank you, for always trying to make things as easy as possible for him. You open the door and difficult as it may seem, all he really has to do is walk through it.

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t smoke in session.”

“Oh good.”

You’re sitting closer again and Aaron doesn’t know how. He doesn’t think either of you moved. He keeps his eyes on the road in front of him, glances at you only from the corner of his eye. Your perfume mingles with the smoke of the cigarette and it’s all a haze to him.

“Why are you not inside?”

“I needed a breath; it was very loud and packed in there… and I finally saw your calls.”

He hums, unable to find anything else to say.

“Why are you here?

“I don’t know.”

He knows that is not a good enough of an answer.

“I always have this terrible feeling that something is going to happen to you.”

Your shoulder touches his and he can admire the smoothness of it, focus on each mark there to avoid the dreaded eye contact.

“Do you think that fear is reasonable, or is it rooted in something else?’

His eyes shut tightly, “Don’t do that, please. Don’t talk to me like I’m a subject.”

“You use your ‘agent tone’ all the time outside of work.”

His voice deepens, “I am aware.”

Heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry I did all that and then backed out at the last minute.”

“It’s alright. I think I knew you would.”

“See, that’s even worse.”

You look at his suit, the wrinkles that have formed in the shirt underneath from the hours of wear.

“Did you come here straight from the office?”

A sigh, “Yeah.”

You nod your head in understanding and move to put out what’s left of the cigarette.

“I’m alright. I’ve got the others too; they’ll take me home. You can relax now.”

“I don’t think I ever can.”

You don’t know what to say really. If what he needs is time, you can give it, but he seems undecided as well when he picks up your hand.

“I think I’m scared of what will happen once the line is crossed.”

A confession.

That, you did not expect.

“Aside from the complications at work, I just,” his hand rubs gently on the spot your watch has left its mark, “I have proved time and time again that I can’t handle any relationship beyond professionalism and once we stop being just colleagues, I will lose you completely from my life.”

“Do you think that line has not been crossed already?”

He laughs quietly.

You can both feel the bouncer looking at you and Aaron is suddenly aware of how vulnerable he is right now.

“I guess it has.”

You’re both quiet for a little while.

“I have to go back inside now, or they’ll start getting worried.”

He looks like he’s about to say something, but no words leave his mouth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them you were here.”

That hurt. You know it, but what else was there to say?

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll know.”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze before you leave and he’s left staring while you go back inside.

-.-.-

A little past two, the girls drop you off in a shared cub before going their separate ways and you rush to your apartment building, only to find Aaron waiting there.

“Well, you certainly have a thing for sitting on curbs.”

He looks tired, so tired, and alone in the empty street. It’s very hard to maintain your position when he always looks this beaten down in his most tender moments. You wish to care for him, love him back into happiness but that wouldn’t be fair.

Still, you can’t help but go to him and he is relieved that you sit closer this time.

“Have you been waiting here this whole time?”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

You softly take his right hand to look at his watch. His body relaxes at the touch.

“Huh.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, but I’m a little more drunk than the last time you saw me.”

Your skin glows under the soft moonlight and he notices.

It is technically tomorrow now.

“How drunk?”

His face moves closer and you can’t help but shiver at the sudden change. His breath is warm on your face. The words come out in a whisper.

“Not that much.”

That’s all it takes.

His lips press against yours once… then twice and then… he doesn’t stop.

You always thought he’d be one to kiss carefully and with absolute purpose, just like he does everything else, but he kisses like a man on fire. He seeks to quench something deep inside of him and you provide happily. The remnants of your lip gloss tingle on his mouth, as if kissing you alone is not enough of an awakening.

It’s becoming increasingly hard to keep up with breathing when he envelops you so, and cages you in the pleasant whirl of his scent. When you break away for breath, he’s quick to capture you once more. His hands come to your face to keep you there until he’s had enough, but how he can he ever have enough of you?

He only lets you go because he has to. You’re both practically panting and he can’t decide what to do. He wants to kiss you, look at you, touch you, but it cannot all be done at once. When your own hand comes to his face just below his jawline, he melts under the touch. His eyes are sunken, his body is begging for rest, but it would not come without you.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

His voice is low and breathy when he nods.

“Yeah…”

-.-.-

You walk upstairs, hand in hand, and Aaron can see your own exhaustion is taking over. Something started with that first touch. Your bodies wish only to find comfort near each other.

His breath is warm on your neck while you open the door, his hands softly placed on your waist with the excuse of keeping you steady. When you move to take off your shoes, he is behind you again, as if tied to you with invisible thread, and holds you gently by the elbow when he sees you struggling.

You’re suddenly very aware he is in your house again. Touching you.

“Can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head no, but you’re too focused on the way his hand moves languidly up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

He is so caring. So soft below the austere guise.

“I just need to take a shower,” you almost stumble backward and he thinks it’s the alcohol, but it might just be the feeling of his hands on your face, “I must have fifty different people’s sweat on me right now.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait.”

His voice is soft – tired.

You turn on the lights for him in the living room and he gives a half-smile when you check on him again.

“I won’t be long.”

Once left alone, he gets to look around your house. He sees your carefully assorted nick-knacks and smiles at the framed pictures all over your bookshelves. He can’t help but notice you’ve chosen one, if not the only, photo of the team that he’s also part of.

He is important to you too.

He can see you in every corner of the room, in the books you buy and the realistic-looking-but-admittedly-fake plants sprinkled here and there for a lack of time to take care of any real ones. He can even see you in the soft material of the couch when he sits and lets his cheek touch the fabric. He has been here before in a dream, with your head in his lap.

The room is awfully quiet save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall and the sound of running water in the background. For a man that’s usually so good at sitting alone with his thoughts, he suddenly can’t stand it.

He knocks gently on the bathroom door and opens it slowly, only to be hit with the dizzying cloud of warm steam. Your head peeks behind the shower curtain and he can tell you got tired of standing and sat in the tub instead.

“Is it okay if I sit in here with you?”

You thought he’d sit on the toilet seat, but he crawls to the edge of the tub and sits on the bathmat with his back to you.

How close is close enough?

Now that he’s ventured, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be satisfied.

So, he closes his eyes and rests his head back on the, now warm, porcelain.

“Aaron.”

He doesn’t know if he actually fell asleep, but the water is now turned off and you’re looking at him. He realizes now, for the first time, that you’re naked behind him. Your hair and eyelashes are angelically wet, the sheen of water on your flushed skin is divine. He knows that you’d be warm if he touched you now.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

You smile at him -siren- and your hand grabs a handful of his shirt, staining it with water that reaches his body underneath and makes him shiver. You kiss him with plump wet lips and he reaches for you. His hand entangles in your hair until you’re both practically pulling at each other.

A less enamored man would have broken away just to sneak a peek at your bare skin, but he won’t. He is respectful even now, even like this.

“I should have kissed you the other day. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

It’s a whisper when his mouth leaves yours, but you catch it.

You hum, eyes glossy, “Would've, could've, should’ve.”

What matters is now.

He kisses you again – just one more time. You both feel like giddy, lovesick children.

“Can you hand me my bathrobe?”

The bathrobe is also impossibly soft to the touch and when you emerge clad in it, he thinks he’d like to hold you. The spell of the warm steam is broken outside, however, and being so close to your naked body suddenly becomes very serious.

You let him sit in your bed, still fully clothed, save for his suit jacket, and he closes his eyes again. The comforter underneath is lovely.

Is everything in this house soft?

Is this what it feels like to be loved by you?

You disappear inside the walk-in closet and reappear, now properly dressed in your pajamas. The bed dips when you sit next to him and he turns to you completely.

“I have a T-shirt you can sleep in, don’t know about pants though.”

Please. Just be here, with him.

He watches you leave, but it’s not long before you return with the aforementioned shirt. You laugh when he finally realizes he’ll have to sleep in his boxers.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of you.”

He throws a teasing look, but can’t possibly come up with a clever answer right now.

“I’ll go dry my hair and you can get dressed, alright?”

You are so gentle with your guidance that it makes him feel like a helpless child, but there’s a hidden relief at that. It’s nice; being cared for like this and there is something to be said about parallels, with you going now to do as you had done a week and a half ago in a Florida hotel and him waiting for you – on your bed.

It’s the same, but it’s different.

He hangs his work clothes carefully on the chair in the corner of your room and goes to sit on the bed, but feels too uncomfortable to climb under the covers. He knows you’d find his duality funny; how he goes from hungrily kissing you to being too embarrassed to join you in bed, even if it’s only for sleep.

You notice his stiffness when you come back in the room, but don’t say anything. It’s not exactly easy for you either, you’re just better at hiding it than he is. You choose to lead by example instead and turn off the lights before reaching for the one on your nightstand and climbing inside your bedding.

He only speaks to deflect attention from him again, “You have a TV in your room.”

“Jealous?”

He turns to look at you and you’re perched up on the plump pillows, smiling at him. Your hand reaches for his own over the comforter and you gently pull him to you.

He comes, of course.

“I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“Of course you don’t.”

He joins you with his back on the pillows and his shoulder touching yours, but he’s still too stiff.

“What do you watch?”

“Mostly reruns of sitcoms-,” he laughs at that, “-Seinfeld.”

“Isn’t that show a thousand years old?

“You would know.”

He laughs again and you can almost make out a wounded pout on his face, but a kiss is enough of a cure. His shoulders relax and he gives in to the warmth and softness; be it the bed or you next to him. You can tell he’s barely managing to stay awake, but he still can’t let go completely. His head slumps backward again.

“Can we turn it on?”

You find the courage to caress his hair, admiring the softness of it and the discreet sprinkle of grey that you can only see up close.

“If you want.”

The quiet humming of the television and your breath in his ear, putting his mind to ease, are enough for him to finally sleep and you’re not long behind. His head is turned to the side where you are, hand tightly holding yours.

Later in the night, when you stir in your sleep, he pulls you further into him – wraps his arm around you completely and doesn’t let go.

next part

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Squeaky Clean 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You start work as a maid but you're not prepared for the mess your client brings with him. (maid AU -- plus!reader)

Note: yeah...

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

This isn’t where you pictured yourself. Even as a cynic, it’s not a job you would aspire too. You’re realistic. Practical. You do what needs to be done. And you suppose, at the end of the day, that’s all this is. Cleaning is rarely enjoyable but it needs to be done. 

You have your kit. The agency gave that to you for a $30 fee. Wonderful, you get to pay for supplies. Business is business. Just another way of the world. The bucket is weighed down by the cleaners, the sponges, clothes, etc. The vacuum is a rental and weighs down your trunk with the broom and mop from your own apartment. You’re not buying a whole new set just for this. They’ll do the job. 

You can settle for that. For what will do. For the bare minimum. Life has been a lot of that. You’re not the only one living that way so why feel sorry for yourself. Get through it, get over it. 

The map on your phone leads you to the address. It’s a big place. One of those high-end townhouses. Not new but renovated. Protected by some city ordinance for ‘historical preservation’. Under that, they sell for nothing less than two million. Yep, you expect that. Logic and practicality are easy bedmates. 

You park and feed the meter. Again, paying to make money. The world runs on money. Put in a little and hope for a few cents to get you by. 

You get out and grab your bucket. You'll come back for the rest when you need them. Zuli, the woman who went over the expectations with you assured you that most clients are away during a service call. They don’t like mingling with the help. If they are around, you likely won’t see them. Or they won’t acknowledge you. 

You can suck up your pride. It’s that city mindset. When you’re on the subway, you keep your head down, you don’t make eye contact. If you hadn’t taken this damned job, you wouldn’t be slogging through New York traffic in the company pinto. A job is a job, money is money, everything is simple if you just parse down your expectations. 

You climb the front steps and as you go to ring the doorbell, a lens built in to protect the overpriced property, the door opens. You retract your hand in surprise. Bad timing? 

The man that greets you is tall and blond. He wears a button up; brown plaid, and khakis. He looks like a cut-out husband from a 1950s advertisement for laundry soap. ‘Give your a fresh scent’ or whatever. 

 Strangely, he also tweaks your memory. Do you know him from somewhere? That’s not possible. You don’t know anyone you’re not forced to know. 

“Mister...” You lift your phone and check the app. “...Rogers.” 

Oh, right. Steve Rogers. You thought it was a coincidence. It can’t be a very uncommon name. You really didn’t anticipate the Captain America opening the door, even in Brooklyn. 

“You must be...” he says your name with a smile. “You can just call me Steve.” 

He holds out his hand. You look at it and stiffly set down the kit. You shake it, out of courtesy. Just your luck. You get one that wants to chat. 

“I’ll give you the tour,” he squeezes your hand firmly before he lets go. “You can get the lay of the land.” 

Another false promise. You should be used to those by now. Those written directions Zuli mentioned are out the window. You get the full curated walk through. 

“Thanks,” you nod and bend your knees. 

He’s quicker than you. Stronger too. Obviously. But the way he easily scoops up the bucket, it’s like he’s picking up no more than a pillow. The act adds to the hint of mortification in prickling behind your ears. Here you are, in sweats and a bandana, in a nice neighbourhood, and now you’re faced with the primped and pristine golden boy. 

He backs up and gestures you inside, the bottle of bleach wiggling in the bucket. You enter and stop on the matter. You slip out of your shoes as he shuts the door. He turns, coming close, close enough that his warm radiates through the back of your hoodie. 

“You can hang up your sweater,” he reaches to tap a peg on the coat rack mounted on the wall. 

“Sure,” you unzip the hoodie and hang it. 

The house is nice. Organized. You wonder why he needs a maid but then again, you suppose even if he can do it himself, he might not want to. Or have the time. How much leisure does he have when he isn’t saving the world. 

It’s a pretty standard layout. You’ve seen homes with a similar floor plan by the fixtures are loose and corroded and the floorboards splintered. Nice places, just aged. Owned by those who can’t afford hired help. 

You notice a few original pieces, restored, but emblazoned with the patent that demarcates them as turn of the twentieth century. Almost as old as the man leading you around. You go through the first floor, the second floor, and come back down. 

“So, I’ll be around here and there. I don’t really have a solid schedule but I’ll try to have you come in around the same time, make it easy on you,” he explains. He has a hand on his hip as he gestures with the other; like he’s ordering around his soldiers, rather, his avengers. 

“Right,” you nod again.  

Taking orders isn’t that hard. They remind you of someone else but they’re not difficult. It’s harder when you don’t know what others want. When disappointing them is easy. 

“Any questions?” He asks. 

“No,” you shake your head. You stand awkwardly, waiting. You clear your throat. “I can take that.” 

You reach for the kit and he flinches as he looks down. He chuckles, “oh, oh yeah. Heavy. Let me know where to put it. I’ll save you the pulled muscle.” 

“Really, I can handle it,” you grab the handle, next to his hand. He resists for a moment then lets you take it. He could keep it from you if he wanted. That thought is something else. This man is powerful in more ways than one. “Thanks.” 

“No problem, and whatever you need, water or whatever, let me know,” he offers as he slides one heel back. “I’m up in my office today so you can do that last.” 

“Makes sense,” you accept and turn away.  

Kitchen first, that’s the most tedious. 

[nanpecan]

₊✩‧₊˚once more to see you˚₊✩‧₊ pt 6

{nanami x f!reader}

pt 1.  pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt. 5

˚₊✩‧₊summary: You’re a manager at Jujutsu Kaisen and you’ve now had two three four extremely intimate encounters with grade 1 sorcerer Nanami Kento, but who's keeping count.... You're preparing for your morning date at your place when you get some unexpected company.

˚₊✩‧₊tags: nanami x fem!reader, nanami gets a little jealous but don't worry bc I can't stand miscommunication tropes, explicit smut towards the end (mdni)

˚₊✩‧₊word count: 8.6k SORRY LOL

˚₊✩‧₊author’s note: lemme start by saying im sorry for taking so long to post the next part but i have been going through it :D i am so grateful for all the positive feedback and messages i've gotten in my absence, i've missed my fellow nanami freaks, so this one is for all yall<3 also i posted this on A03 yesterday...i just feel like its faster posting it there bc im lazy. thank you to everyone for reading!

taglist at the end and feel free to let me know if you want off or if want to be added!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After about thirty minutes of scrubbing you came to accept that the pink frosting stain wasn’t going to come out of your shirt. You sighed and put down the wet fabric. Another shirt lost to your shenanigans with Nanami. You laughed to yourself as the realization hit you. You’d lost three shirts in the last four days…you should probably plan to go shopping soon. You grimaced, maybe you should have saved that extra money you’d sent your mother earlier in the week. 

You went around your apartment cleaning here and there, you had found it in better shape than you remembered, but compared to his apartment you felt that yours was definitely lacking in cohesive design. Your eclectic furniture was a little bit of every style, the art on your walls didn’t really follow a theme, you just framed things you liked. You tidied up more than you think you ever had and smiled as you looked around. It may not have been much, but it was home. You felt safe here. 

The building as whole was another issue. You’d frowned when you had seen the elevator was still out of order. Nanami would have to take the seven flights of stairs just like you had. You looked down at your phone, maybe you could reschedule? Meet somewhere else to have breakfast? No, he had been looking forward to seeing your apartment. It was such a silly thing but you could tell he really wanted to. You wiped down your kitchen countertops one more time before cleaning the small dishes in your sink. 

You were planning on going to bed a bit earlier than usual. You were going to prep breakfast to make some pastries for him in the morning. It had been a while since you’d baked. You looked around, satisfied at your cleaning streak. You decided to shower before continuing, maybe you’d be able to catch anything you had missed afterwards.

You stepped out of the shower and walked up to the sink. What a crazy few days you’d had. You hadn’t really had the chance to be alone and process everything. You stared at your reflection as you wiped the mirror. You’d never really thought of yourself as someone worthy of being desired. An odd thing to admit, but you had also never really had the luxury of having the sort of life where that would matter. The world of Jujutsu Sorcery was a fast paced one and every day could be your last, so you often found yourself discouraged from participating in things people your age did. Dating, partying, traveling…it's not like you could afford it either. The only reason you’d really ever gone out was because of Akari. She would invite you to go out to places where she could relive her delinquent youth. She was also the reason you had gone on any dates in the first place. That reminded you, you needed to text her and see when she was free to hangout. You had a lot to catch her up on. 

You walked out to your living room and sat on the couch, picking up your phone. It suddenly dawned on you that you had never gotten Nanami’s number. You seemed to remember Akari saying she gave him yours. You opened your messages and scrolled to confirm. 

Something made a noise in your kitchen. 

Your blood ran cold. Was it an intruder? A curse? Had something broken in? You slowly reached under the couch and pulled out a baseball bat. You sat up and looked towards the noise, but didn’t see anything. A cup holding your washed silverware had been knocked over. Okay…maybe it had just come unbalanced. You got up holding the bat up and slowly approached the kitchen. You cautiously made your way around the counter looking down and jumped. 

It was your neighbor's cat. 

You sighed in relief and lowered your bat. “Messi, what are you doing here?” You picked up the orange cat who meowed in return. “How have you been? It’s been a while.” He meowed again. “Really?” Meow. “I’ve been good. I met someone.” Meow. “Well he was someone I already knew.” You walked out of your apartment, cat in tow, and made your way next door. Your window had a tear in the screen and Messi had made a habit of going through it and somehow prying open your window (which didn’t lock) and wandering into your place. You didn’t mind, you had actually set up a little water bowl for him in your apartment. 

You knocked on the door. “Hi, it’s Y/N. I'm returning Messi, I haven’t been home for a couple of days, so I don’t know how long he’s been in there.” 

You heard some shuffling and suddenly an older lady opened the door. You had never seen her before. She looked at you and then at the cat. “Keep the damn thing.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice from behind the lady, your neighbor. She made her way to the door and you saw she was crying. She took the cat in her arms and held him close, starting to cry again. “Thank you.” 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Osuke had his second trial today and was convicted,” she said through tears. Osuke was her husband.

“That stupid lawyer, I should curse his entire family,” the old lady muttered. You had a feeling she was Osuke’s mother. 

“I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do to help?” you asked. You had known about the trial, it had been ongoing for a couple of months now. He had been arrested after being framed for a robbery. The story you had been told was that his boss had been the one to frame him. He was a bottom tier worker, and the perfect scapegoat for the crime. 

“No, thank you though,” the woman said. 

“You can take the damn cat. She’s moving out of here. After the lawyer’s fees and the loss of his income she’s moving in with me, I don’t want to take care of that thing,” the older lady said.

“I’ll take care of it, please,” the woman cried. 

The lady grumbled something else and went back inside. “Thank you for bringing him back.” She wiped her tears and offered you a hug. “We’ll be out by tomorrow, I can't afford the rent. I’m already behind on the last two months.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I hope everything works out. You have my number, call me if you need anything. Anything at all.” You smiled at her and she nodded and closed the door. 

You stood alone in the hallway. Everything was so silent. You heard the women arguing again and you sighed. You went back into your apartment, sitting on your couch again. You hoped everything would work out for them. The couple next door had been so nice. Osuke and Makiko and their cat Messi, they’d lived here longer than you had. You sighed and rubbed your temples. There really wasn’t much you could do for them.  

You reached for your phone again and went to text Akari. 

-sorry i meant to text you earlier, and then i got distracted again. messi was in my apartment and scared me to death. -when are they going to fix that damn window for you? -i don’t mind, i love that cat.  -but if he can get in so can other things, my skin is crawling just thinking about it  -someone is on the road to getting uninvited from my place.  -no way, you owe me from all the times I’ve let you crash at my place -damn…speaking of, when is your next free day? we need to hang out.  -i can do the day after tomorrow, i have a half day, does that work? -perfect, i’m also just coming in in the morning -you can tell me all about your adventures with the old man. have you said yes to being his girlfriend yet? -he hasn’t asked me yet -boooo

You started typing when you received a notification from an unknown number. 

-Did you make it home okay?- It read. You smiled.  -is this who I think it is? -Y/n it’s me, it’s Nanami Kento.  -then it is who I thought. I did make it home safe, I found my neighbor's cat in my apartment so I’m glad I came to check, they’re moving out tomorrow morning. -So you’re free now? -…yes ? -That’s good, get some rest. Have a good night. I'll see you tomorrow.

Hmm you thought he was going to ask something else. You looked at the clock. It was 7:53, earlier than you thought. I should probably get started, you thought to yourself. You pulled yourself off of the couch and went into your kitchen. You would make your dough tonight and let it proof overnight. 

Overnight proofing is the best way to make bread. 

You were shot back into a memory. 

The best things in life are worth waiting for you know. And what’s better than fresh bread? Nothing! Ask anyone that comes in tomorrow, I dare you.  

You smiled fondly as you rolled the dough into a little acorn shape before rounding it out and setting it in a glass bowl. 

As you finished up you checked the time. You had gotten done pretty quickly. You just needed the topping for the melon bread, which you could make as the oven heated up in the morning. You checked your pantry one last time for brown sugar and you realized you didn’t have any. You frowned. You’d run out for some in the morning. If you didn’t go to bed soon you weren't going to want to get up in the morning.

You sat for a moment and noticed the silence again. It’s not like it wasn’t ever quiet around here, but maybe after the events of the last four days something about being alone bothered you. It surely hadn’t before.

You moved into your bedroom and lay on the bed. You usually felt stuffy in here, that’s why you preferred to lay out on the couch, at least it seemed more of an open space compared to your bedroom. But now it felt nice. You felt safe. 

You stared at your ceiling. “Maybe I should call him,” you said out loud to yourself. You closed your eyes and imagined his smile. The way his perfect teeth shone, the way his nose crinkled a bit when the corners of his mouth lifted, his lips on yours. You swallowed and opened your eyes. If you let your mind wander any longer you’d be in trouble. You groaned in frustration. You missed him, how pathetic. You had always been one to make fun of how quickly people in your field tended to get together, but here you were. 

You heard your neighbor and her mother in law faintly arguing through the walls. You frowned trying to think if there was really nothing you could do. 

You had too much “compassion”, you had been told by one of the old professors at Jujutsu Tech. There’s no way to save everyone and to try is to doom yourself. You scowled as you remembered what he had said to you. The arguing died down and you hoped to yourself they worked it out. At least they had each other going through this. Things were tense now but hopefully they’d adjust. You made a note to check in on them tomorrow. You went to set your alarm when you remembered Shoko had wanted you to stop by her office early in the morning. You groaned and set your alarm for earlier than you had intended. Nanami said he’d be by around 7, it would have to be a quick breakfast as you wanted to get to the school by 8, you hoped he didn’t mind. You finally drifted to sleep. 

You groaned as your alarm woke you up, but you quickly sat up and went to wash your face. You needed to split the dough, and lay the cookie topping over it and let it proof for another 30 minutes at least. You could run out to your corner store while they sat and you preheated the oven. 

As you opened the door to exit, you almost tripped on a pile of items placed in front of your place. Cat toys, a litter box, cans of cat food, a small bed, and a note. 

Messi got out again last night and I’m afraid we just don’t have time to look for him. I think he’s better off with you anyway. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. If it’s too much I've contacted a shelter that would take him. Here is the number. 

You frowned a bit. You loved Messi but you didn’t want a cat. You dragged the items into your apartment and quickly went out the door. You’d deal with this later, you were already running behind.

As you stepped back into the hall, winded and trying to catch your breath after returning and climbing the seven floors, you looked up to see a man in a suit knocking on your neighbors door. This wasn’t your man in a suit, quite the opposite. 

You approached him cautiously. He had jet black hair, his suit was dark, and he reeked of alcohol. 

“Please, just let me apologize- I did all I could. I won’t charge ya any money, just please, I’m sorry.” He stumbled as he continued to knock. You were going to have to get past him to get to your door. There was no avoiding him. 

“Excuse me,” you said, announcing yourself behind him. The man turned to look at you. His eyes were tired and sleepy, he had deep bags under his eyes and his sharp nose was red. He was definitely drunk. “If you’re looking for the residents, they’ve moved out.” 

“What?” 

“They’ve moved out, what did you need to tell them?” you asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You’re sorry?” 

“I need to apologize to them. Osuke was jailed. It’s not fair. The whole system is corrupt. I should-” 

“Were you their lawyer?” you asked. 

“Yes,” he turned back and started pounding on the door again. “Please let me speak to you!” 

“Tell him to stop that before I call the police!” an old man from down the hall had stuck his head out of his door to yell. 

“Sir, no one is in there. You have to go, it’s too early to be causing such a ruckus,” you said. 

“I need to apologize,” he whined. You noticed a buzzing coming from his pocket, his phone was ringing. 

“Do you need to get that?” you asked. 

He pulled the phone out of his pocket and handed it to you before turning back to the door. The caller ID said Shimizu. You grabbed the man's shoulder and pulled him away from the door as you answered with your other hand. 

“Hello?” 

“Yes, hello… is this Higuruma’s cellphone? Who’s speaking?” A woman spoke on the other end. 

“Ah, he just handed me his phone. He’s very drunk and knocking at someone- I think maybe one of his clients' doors.” 

You heard her curse, “Would you be able to tell me where he is? I apologize for the disturbance, I’ll come by to get him as soon as I know where to go.” 

“Ah, yes-” he pulled himself from your grip and started going towards the door again. “Sir-” 

“There is no justice!” he cried out. 

You stared at him a bit shocked, what was he on about? You told the woman your address. 

“I can be there in around 25 minutes. Would there be any way you could keep him put? I apologize again for the inconvenience.” 

“I’ll try my best…” you looked at the man as he collapsed onto his knees, staring forward at the door. You walked over to him and handed him his phone. “Shimizu is on her way to get you,” you said. He just stared. You looked at your apartment and sighed. “Would you like to wait for her inside?” You pulled the man up to his feet and unlocked your apartment. You held the door open as he stumbled inside. You reached inside and grabbed a couple of cans of cat food to hold your door open. The last thing you wanted was for Nanami to get the wrong idea.

Once inside you rushed over to your kitchen to check on the bread. The man walked around not looking at anything in particular, but just moping. “Have a seat,” you motioned to the small table and chairs. He sat down and you turned back to your baking, unpacking the sugar you had just bought. You quickly grabbed a plate and spread the sugar, then you rolled the diamond patterned tops in the sugar. You placed the six little buns you had made back on the baking sheet. The oven still had a couple of minutes before it was ready. 

You turned back to the man and were shocked to find him staring at you. “You just let a strange drunk man into your apartment, while alone?” 

“I left the door open…” you muttered. “Besides, I think I could take you in a fight. I’ve dealt with worse.” He gave you a questioning look. “Would you like some water? Some tea? Coffee?”

“Water.” You poured him a glass and walked it over to him. He began rubbing his temples with his hand. He seemed to be sobering up quickly. You grabbed a couple of crackers from your shelf and handed them to him too. 

“Eat something, get a grip before your friend comes to get you.” 

You heard the oven ding and you walked over to put the pasties in the oven. You set a timer for twenty minutes. Looking at the clock you had about 30 until Nanami showed up, probably less since he seemed to be pretty punctual. You turned back to the man and saw he had chugged the water and was gingerly taking a bite out of the crackers. You started cleaning up the kitchen, putting the bowls in the sink and clearing off your small drying rack. 

“Who is coming to get me?” he asked.

“Ah, your friend, I think her name was Shimizu,” you answered. He muttered something under his breath. “More water?” you asked. 

He nodded. You went over with a pitcher and filled his cup, this time sitting down across from him. “Thank you,” he said quietly. 

“So…there’s no justice in the world, huh?” You asked. He frowned. “I don’t think that’s something I’d want to hear from my lawyer,” you eyed him curiously. 

“I apologize for my outburst.” 

“No, no I understand. From what I know Osuke was innocent. It must be frustrating to lose a case, especially when what happened was so unfair.” You thought back to the old woman grumbling about the lawyer. “That old lady was very angry, I can’t imagine that’s easy on you.” 

His hand gripped the cup tightly. “People have no sense of understanding right or wrong. Everything is so black and white to them. But there are so many complications before you can see one or the other clearly.” He stared at the cup. “Most only see the bad, the ugly, that’s the easiest thing to pick out, the easiest to understand. I think most people assume that others are inherently bad, so expecting bad things to come from them is second nature.” You stayed silent as he contemplated his words. “It doesn’t help when your client looks like a bad guy, it’s an uphill battle, but I try I really do.”

He sighed, taking a drink of water before continuing. “ If I lose a case, it's easy to blame me. I'm much more tangible than blaming some higher power for not being in your favor. No one wants to believe that I do this out of a want to help others, they see me as wanting money, as taking advantage of those in dire situations. They only ever see me as greedy when I lose. Another bad guy. I want to help, but when it comes down to it, who am I to a jury, to a judge? I’m another bad person, defending a bad person who did a bad deed. They think if they were truly innocent I wouldn’t have to work as hard, I wouldn’t have to find such cunning ways to prove their innocence, but I try. Not out of trickery or malice, but because I want to believe that not everyone is bad. But again and again people only see me as a bad guy defending bad people, and I'm afraid I'm losing sight of what this all used to mean to me.”   

You looked at the cup he was holding. “I see…” you thought about everything he had just said. You thought a part of him was just feeling sorry for himself, but other points he made were valid. There was a time when you thought everyone in the world might have been bad too. “When I was sixteen…I left my home because of an incident,” you started. “I was alone and scared and I thought that it had happened to me because I was bad.” You frowned slightly as you recalled the events. “And because I thought I was bad, I justified a lot of the things I did. I snuck onto buses and trains to get to Tokyo, away from where I was because I didn’t feel like I deserved to be there, I didn’t deserve to be close to my family. And I stole…a lot…not big things, not precious things, food mostly. I was hungry and had no place to stay and I saw others do it…and so I became ‘bad’. I became what I thought I was, what I believed the world wanted me to be.” You looked up at him, he was staring at you trying to figure out where you were going with this. “But then I met someone, someone who was good, someone who only ever saw the good in people no matter what and that…changed me.” 

“Who did you meet?” he asked. 

“I went to a bakery,” you smiled fondly and looked down at your hands on the table. “I had known about it since I arrived in Tokyo, the line was always out of the door by 7 am, but I had never had the chance to go in. I mean, I never even had the money for it and the owner, she was this sweet old lady and even though I was already stealing food from other places, I felt like if I stole from her I would be too far gone. 

But as it goes, the more I stole, the more I felt entitled to, and after a month of fighting it, I finally gave in and made a plan.” You shifted in your seat, you had never told anyone this story. “I made a plan, and woke up early, to be one of the first in line. I was sixth or seventh outside the door, and when I finally got to go in I felt like crying, it smelled so good and it was so warm. She greeted everyone with such kindness and it was just her that day. I had seen a granddaughter with her before, but this morning it was just the lady. 

“I pretended to look around, considering what to buy. I let people go in and out before I finally decided on a single piece of Melon bread, delicately wrapped in plastic. It was the most beautiful thing I think I’d ever seen. I grabbed the piece and tucked it under my arm and started heading towards the door. I turned to check if anyone had seen me and I saw her staring at me.” You laughed and shook your head. “She was just staring at me and her eyes went to the piece of bread I had tucked under my arm and you know what she did?” You looked up at him. “She looked back into my eyes, smiling the whole time, and said to come back soon. I ran out of there, terrified for my life. I thought she was going to call the cops, but there was something about her smile that just seemed so genuine. 

I think I got about ten steps down the road before I stopped. The guilt was too much, I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t deserve to have something so nice. I was bad, and I had done a bad thing.” You scrunched your nose. “I went back immediately. I pushed past the people in line and went right up to her and I handed her the bread back. She looked at me confused and just shook her head. ‘You can have it, it’s your first time here right? Take a seat, let me know what you think of it.’” You laughed and covered your face with your hands. “I sat down and just cried while I ate it. I bawled, like people stared at me out of concern.” The lawyer stared at you. “When I finished she came up to me and asked how it was. I started apologizing profusely and she just handed me another one, and asked if I’d like to learn how to make my own,” you shook your head incredulously. 

“She offered me a job and a place to stay. I still don’t understand how she was able to see right through me.” You heard the timer go off and you shot up to get the bread out of the oven. You smiled as you saw how perfectly the six little buns had crisped up. You transferred them over to a plate and grabbed one for the lawyer. You placed it in front of him. “There are bad people out there, but there are also good people. There has to be a natural balance otherwise everything would fall apart, don’t you think?” You looked at him as he stared at the pastry before him. “I can see that you really care about your clients. Even if this was a bit inappropriate to do, drunkenly asking to speak to them and all, but the right sentiment is there.” He pressed his lips together into a thin line. “The world needs more people that are willing to look past everything and find the good. I hope you can keep doing that.” 

You heard laughter from the hallway and looked over the lawyer’s shoulder at the open door to see Nanami and a sharply dressed woman stepping out of the stairway. The woman suddenly looked at you and then at the lawyer. “Higuruma!” She quickened her step towards your place. Nanami followed behind her. “Pardon my intrusion,” she said as she entered. She stomped up to the man checking on him before turning to you. She bowed slightly. “I apologize for his behavior. This is completely out of character for him, I don’t know what he’s thinking. I’m sorry-” 

“It’s okay, he explained some of what’s been going on. Do you work with him?” 

“Yes, my name is Shimizu, I’m a colleague of his, I’m also a lawyer.” 

“I’m Y/N, sorry we have to meet like this.” You turned your attention to Nanami who was staring at the man. “Sorry our breakfast plans got thrown around a little.” 

Shimizu turned towards Nanami and then back to you. “Ah, I see...” She smiled at you. “I’ll take over now, thank you again for your help. Here’s my business card, let me know if there’s ever anything you need.” You took her card and smiled. Fancy, you thought to yourself.

“Wait,” Higuruma said. “Have my card too,” he felt around his pockets for them but couldn’t find anything. 

“Don’t tell me you lost your wallet,” Shimuzu said, annoyed. She pulled out another card and handed it to you. “Here’s his card as well.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Thank you for listening to me…” Higuruma looked like he was trying to remember your name.

“Y/N,” you repeated. 

He smiled at you. “Wait!” he said again as Shimuzu started pushing him out. “My melon bread…” he muttered, turning back and grabbing it off the plate. Shimuzu sighed and continued to push him out. 

You watched the two bicker as they went down the hall and into the staircase. You became aware of Nanami’s eyes on you. You reached down to move the cat food out of the door frame and let the door shut. “If I ever got called to fetch you out of some stranger’s apartment after you had a drunken night out, I don’t think I’d be as calm as she was,” you said. You turned back to him after he hadn’t said anything. “I hope you’re not getting the wrong idea. I helped him out and we just talked.” You frowned. “I feel like saying that makes me seem more guilty, but I don’t even know why I’m defending myself here.” You turned to him and stared for a bit. “Are you mad at me?” 

His eyebrows furrowed. “No?” 

“Oh.” You turned back towards the door. “You were just being so quiet…I mean I heard you guys laughing…the lawyer lady, Shimizu. She was really pretty. She looked so professional..” You smiled half heartedly. “You looked good together.” You muttered. You frowned as you realized how ridiculous you sounded. “Anyway…” you turned towards the kitchen and started walking to the counter. “I made some pastries this morning. It’s not much, but we’ll also have to be quick because I forgot I promised Shoko I’d meet her early. So I only have time to change and then we probably need to head out. Sorry for rushing things.” you frowned again. “I should have told you to stop by earlier, but I got a little distracted.” 

“Are you jealous?” 

“M-me?” You felt your face grow red. “No-no I’m not- why would you- why would you think that?” you laughed awkwardly. “I was just saying she’s super pretty and I’d just never heard someone laugh with you like that before I mean other than me- but I mean I guess I don’t really know you-I mean I know you but not like I know you now- and she’s-I mean she’s super pretty you have to admit-“ 

“I wasn’t a fan of the way he asked for your name at the end of your conversation,” he said looking down at his wrist and fiddling with his watch. “I know that look he gave you… I’ve given you that look.” 

You smiled and felt relief. “Seems like we’re on the same boat.” You shook your head and went over to him, looking up with a playful frown. “Was she really that funny?” 

“She was the only one laughing, I don’t think anything I said was particularly interesting.” 

You thought back at the way her eyes had turned from you to him and back to you. Oh I see, she had said. “She was into you,” you wrapped your arms around him. “I’ve done that before, laughed like an idiot at someone who’s not funny because I thought they were hot.” 

“Have you done that with me?” He asked. 

“No, you’re actually funny. It’s never forced with you.” You looked up at him again. “It’s your fault, you’re so handsome. We have to do something about your face.” 

“Well then, what do you suggest we do about yours?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He was quite taken with you.” 

You made a face and shook your head. “Men will rant about their problems to you and then think they’re in love just because you listened.” 

“Did he rant about his problems? His alcoholism? His brutishness? What was he thinking coming into someone’s apartment in that state? He’s lucky he didn’t-“ 

“He was having a rough time of it actually. I do feel a bit bad.” You turned back to look at the door and then the cat items. “He was my neighbor’s lawyer. They’re a young couple, the husband was arrested on some unfair charges and he seemed devastated by the outcome.” 

“That’s not very professional.” 

You shrugged. “I think it’s been a long time coming. Hopefully my pep talk keeps him back on track for a while longer, but I have a feeling he’s going to snap one day,” you said darkly. “There was something unhinged in his eyes.” 

Nanami pulled you back and hugged you tightly again as you buried your face back into his chest. He smelled nice. 

“Speaking of my neighbors. Do you like cats?” 

“I don’t dislike them.” You nodded, backing out of his arms. “Why?” 

“They left me in charge of their cat, Messi. Well not left me in charge, it’s more like they gave him to me. They left me all his stuff, he got out of their place yesterday before they left and somehow he always ends up at my place.” 

“How does he get in?” 

“Oh I guess I should show you around my apartment. Though there isn’t much to look at.” You ran a hand through your hair as you looked around. You pointed at where he was standing, next to the table. “Dining room, living room, kitchen, bathroom door, bedroom door, ta da!” You smiled cheekily as you pointed back where you started. “Bet that’s the fastest you’ve ever had a house tour, huh.” He looked around slowly, taking in the frames on the wall, the knick knacks on your shelves and the books piled all over the place, stacked not so neatly. “It’s- it’s really not much but it’s home,” you said feeling a little insecure again. Maybe you should have cleaned more. 

“It’s lovely,” he said. “It feels very much like you.” 

“Thanks…” you said. Your eyes went to the clock in your kitchen and you perked up. “Oh wow, is that the time…” 

“May I see your bedroom?” He asked. You felt your face go red again. 

“Oh, sure,” you started walking towards it. “I need to change anyway, hope you don’t mind.” 

“Never.” You felt the blush grow and your stomach get tingly. 

You opened the door and gestured briefly. “This is it, again it's not much... I think the bed is too big for this space, but it’s comfortable.” you went around to your closet pulling out a pair of black slacks and a white button down. You laughed to yourself. “That pink frosting was not coming off of my shirt. That’s two shirts you owe me, Kento.” 

“I’ll have to make it up to you,” he said as he looked around the room. “What about this weekend? Are you free? I could take you shopping.” 

You laughed again, “You’re like the main lead in a drama series. You’re too much, you know that?” 

“Sorry?” He offered. 

You smiled at him.“Thank you, but I’ll take a rain check on the shopping. I can get my own stuff. I’m hanging out with Akari on my half day, but Sunday I’ll be free,” you said as you buttoned your pants. “That is if you want to meet up on Sunday… if you’ve available.” 

You turned to him and saw him blush this time. “Sunday…works.” You smiled victoriously as you walked over to him in just your bra. He stared at your face and you nodded briefly as if to give him permission to look. His eyes trailed down. “It’s a shame we have to hurry to campus. Are you sure Shoko can’t wait.” 

“She’s doing me a favor by offering to teach me, I can’t do that to her,” you said. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you forward. You looked up expectantly and he planted a soft kiss on your lips. You smiled. 

You finished getting dressed and you felt his eyes never leave you as you moved around. He walked behind you out of the room and into the kitchen where you proudly showed him the bread you had made. 

“This is a very secret recipe, I doubt you’ll ever have one as good as this.” He looked down at the bread and smiled fondly. He picked up one of the little buns and slowly bit into it. You watched his face carefully for a reaction. You saw his eyes water slightly as he savored the treat. 

He smiled and nodded. “Good.” 

You were a bit confused. “Yeah…you okay?” He seemed to be lost in thought. “Kento?” 

He smiled again and blinked a few times. “Yes, sorry, it brought up some memories. This is very good, Y/N.” 

You smiled, deciding to not push it. “I worked at a bakery for a short time.” You looked at the buns. “They're good but you should have tried the ones where I learned… I guess people are masters for a reason.” He nodded and continued to eat. 

“Did you want coffee or-” Suddenly your phone rang. You pulled it out of your pocket and read the name, Shoko. 

“Hello?” you answered. 

“Hey, Y/N. I’ve been called out to do something so I won't be at the school this morning. Is there any way you could come in during your lunch?” 

“I think that should work,” you said. Nanami looked at you curiously. 

“Great, see you then.” 

“Ooo~ is that Y/N?’ you heard Gojo’s voice in the background before she hung up. 

You looked at your phone and then back up at Nanami. “So it looks like we have time after all, Shoko just rescheduled.” You sighed and leaned against the counter. “Sorry for rushing you before. Did you want some coffee or anything? I need a little pick me up.” 

He shook his head, “Sit down, you’ve had a long morning. Do you mind if I make us some coffee?” 

“I can make it for you, it's no problem-”

“I insist. It’s the least I can do,” he said with a smile. You smiled back and nodded. 

“Fine, let me atleast get the ingredients out for you.” 

“I’m sure I can find what I need,” he said, gesturing for you to go sit at the table.

You obliged and sat down with a happy sigh. You watched as he moved around the kitchen, looking for ingredients. The coffee, the sugar, etc. You smiled as he grumbled to himself as he searched for items and he would occasionally look over at you for some guidance. You pointed at your cup drawer and he looked over at you as he pulled out two mugs. He held one in his hand and read the text. 

He frowned. “I used to work at this company,” he said. 

“Ah, I got it as a freebie after signing up for their newsletter or something like that, I don't remember now.” You laughed, “I wonder if you were at that event. It must have been around the time you worked there. Before I had this apartment I used to rent one close to their headquarters, so I would walk by almost daily. We were so close and had no idea.” 

Nanami smiled, bringing over two cups of coffee and the tray of bread. “I don’t think you would have liked me then.” 

“What do you mean?” You took the warm cup from him. 

He sighed as he sat, “I feel as if I was a soulless shell of a man focused on money”

“Was?” you teased. 

He gave you a look, “Am I still?” You blew on your cup and smiled slyly. He smiled, “I guess I am still focused on money, but soulless?”

“Definitely not, I can tell by the way you made this coffee,” you said, taking a sip. He shook his head and looked down at his cup. He had taken the one with his old company logo. 

“Would you have liked me?” He mumbled. 

“Probably not, if I’m honest,” you said bluntly. You smiled, “I hate stiffs in suits and I don’t have much money so I doubt you’d have given me the time of day anyway.” 

“Stiffs in suits? Isn’t that what I am now?” 

“At least you’re helping people, now. That company always had a fishy vibe, there was always a tan blonde man in sunglasses who would try to pick me up with bad English phrases.” You scrunched your face. “Sound like someone you know?” 

He laughed. “Unfortunately I know who you’re referring to.”

The two of you finished up your breakfast and Nanami offered to do the dishes while you tidied up. You wiped down your counters as he rinsed the cups. You moved on to the table. 

Laying on the table were the two business cards the lawyer had handed you. You examined the sturdy ivory rectangle and the elegant gold lettering of the man’s business card. Hiromi Higuruma, it sounded like a name out of a tv show. You looked up and saw Nanami staring at the card in your hand with disdain. You smiled, laughing a bit at his expression. 

“Here,” you reached out and handed him the card. “Hold on to this for me, you never know when I might need a lawyer.” 

He begrudgingly took the card and scanned the writing, the scowl still on his face. “I’ll keep you out of trouble.” He tucked the card into his pocket. 

“Did he really bother you that much?” 

“Please, enough about him,” he said with a sigh.

“I kind of like that you’re jealous,” you teased. “Anyway, what are you so worried about?” You reached out and put a hand on his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.” You felt his cheek grow warm as a blush came over his face.

Nanami looked down at his watch, he seemed to be calculating something in his head. “We have about thirty minutes until we have to leave right?”

“Yeah, why?” 

He suddenly moved closer to you, putting his hand on either side of the table around your waist. “Should we make use of our morning?”He gave you a cocky smirk as he gently moved one of his hands under your chin, tilting your face upwards.

You felt your face burning now. “What can we even do in only half an hour” 

He tilted his head as he thought. “Well we really only have twenty minutes,  I would allow us another ten to compose ourselves.”

“Do you think that’s enough?” you asked, laughing. 

He shrugged as he brought his face closer to yours. “We can make it work.” He closed the distance between you, delicately placing his lips on yours. He was so warm, so soft. You pulled him closer, placing your hand on the back of his head and lacing your fingers within his silky blonde locks. His lips moved softly against yours, his hand gently placed on your back as he settled himself between your legs. You pulled back for a second and looked up at him. His lips were glistening with your mixed saliva and face was flush. You smiled. 

“Seeing as I haven’t really had the time to do laundry, and the fact that I’m down a couple of shirts, and that we have a record of being…messy. I propose we move this to my bedroom.” 

He smiled and nodded. He placed another soft kiss on your lips before backing up to let you move forward away from the table. 

“I’ll try to not let it become a habit.” 

“What?”

“Ruining your shirts.” 

“To be fair you only ruined two, the other one was that monster.” You shrugged, “Some things are just inevitable.” You turned towards him once you were in your room and started unbuttoning your shirt. “Should we set a timer?” you joked. 

Nanami set his blazer aside and loosened his tie. “We can be quick about it. We made do in that bathroom.” 

You felt your cheeks go red, “Oh my god,” you buried your face in your hands and sat on the bed. You heard him chuckle and you looked up. He placed a hand down onto your cheek and you smiled at him. He slowly lowered his face down towards you and kissed your forehead. He pushed you onto your back as he finished unbuttoning his shirt. You shifted your weight as you reached down to pull your pants down. You slipped them off of your legs and suddenly felt him grab your right ankle. He smiled coyly as he placed it up onto his shoulders, you felt your face go red as you looked at him. He held your leg firmly as he lazily unbuttoned his pants and shuffled them down to expose himself. You felt your heartbeat quicken as he moved forward and ran his cock over your underwear. He moved forward, placing his knees on the bed as he brought your legs up onto his thighs. He picked up your left leg and pressed it against his side as he moved forward to kiss you. You groaned as you felt your right thigh stretch against his chest. You moved one of your hands onto his shoulder and the other laced into his hair bringing him closer. Your tongues danced as you desperately kissed him. He continued to buck his hips, running his cock over your now soaked panties. He grunted at the friction and quickly moved back suddenly. You whimpered again as your leg moved back up with him. He let go of your left leg and moved it over opening your legs wide before him. He looked up at you, his pupils wide and his mouth wet with your spit. He swallowed hard as his eyes trailed down your body. “Y/N…I don’t know how to explain what you do to me…” He licked his lips as he thrust his hips forward against your clothed cunt. “I apologize in advance if I’m being too rough.” He looked back up at you. “Please let me know if I’m too rough..” He moved a hand down and pushed aside the wet fabric easily. 

He pressed his tip lightly against your opening. You moved a hand forward and pressed it against his abdomen stopping him momentarily. “Kento…” 

His head snapped up to meet your eyes. “Yes?”

There was a desperation in his gaze that made you feel a warmth in your chest. “It’s okay.” You moved your hand back and lifted your arms over your head. “Be rough with me, please…” you moaned and arched your back as you felt him dip a little deeper inside you. 

Nanami quickly grabbed your other leg and pressed it back against you as he moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. You let out a yelp, which was muffled by him devouring your lips. He pushed his hips roughly against you, desperately, quickly, as he held your legs further back. You were folded over yourself and you felt the head of his cock bully the deepest parts of you. You gasped everytime he pushed into you, becoming a mumbling mess under his touch. He slipped an arm behind you and brought you closer to him and you gasped at the change in position. He had you trapped in a mating press and all you could do was mutter incoherently. “Kento!” you cried, tears forming in your eyes from the pleasure. He moved his mouth from your lips and trailed sloppy kisses down to your jaw and into your neck. You felt him bite your skin gently before latching onto the side of your neck. He was going to leave a mark, you were sure. You moved your arms forward and hugged his large torso towering over you. He wasn’t slowing down and you were reaching your limit. You dug your nails into his back and you heard him hiss as he released your neck. He smiled snarkily before moving to the other side of your neck and biting down on it. You dragged your nails along his back again and he bit down harder. You cried out as he desperately moved his hips with more force, his knees slipping and forcing him deeper as he temporarily let his weight drop on you for an instant. You moaned loudly and clenched your entire body as you came. He grunted into your ear as he thrust his hips one more time before releasing with a roar. 

You were both breathing heavily as he stayed inside of you for a while longer, twitching against your contracting walls. He kissed your face gently as he tried to catch his breath and you smiled, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling. After some time he finally moved back, releasing your legs which had been trapped between the two of you. He took a moment to massage your thighs in his hands. You hummed in appreciation. 

You felt him move back and pull out of you. You winced as you felt warm liquid ooze out of you. You pointed to your bedside table and he quickly fetched a handkerchief to clean you up. 

“I might have gotten carried away again.” 

You laughed and sat up sorely. “It's only 8 am.” You mumbled. He smiled at you and you saw his eyes trail to your neck. You put a hand over the spots he had leeched on to. He smiled satisfied as he made his way off the bed. 

“I’m going to take a quick shower…would you like to join me?” You nodded and scooted off of the bed. You looked at him as he turned his back towards you and winced. He turned to look. “What? Is something wrong?” 

“Your back,” you said with a frown. “I didn’t realize how hard I was scratching.” 

He peeked over his shoulder at the sharp red lines. “Nothing you can’t fix,” he said. He went over to you and scooped you up in his arms. 

After your quick shower together you went back into your bedroom to get dressed. You looked in the mirror at your body. He had left a mark at the base of your neck, just low enough to be covered by the collar of your shirt. You looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw he was staring with a smile on his face. “I might have been caught up in the moment, but I made sure I was careful.” 

You smiled back and looked at the mark again. You looked back up at him. “This…this doesn’t have anything to do with you being jealous does it?” 

He blinked and you saw his eyebrows furrow slightly. “No,” he huffed, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeve.. “Why would you- No, I’m not-”

You laughed. “Sorry, I had to tease. I love when you get flustered.”

He sighed and came up behind you, leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Do you have the lady lawyer’s card? What was her name? Shimizu? I think I should hold on to her card as well.” 

You frowned and leaned your head into his. “I knew it. You’re leaving me for her.” 

He laughed and wrapped his arms around you bringing you closer to him. He buried his face into your neck and took a deep breath. He pressed a kiss into your shoulder before moving up to kiss your cheek. “We should get going.” 

You turned to look at him. “Okay.” He took your hands and lifted them to his lips to give them a gentle kiss. 

“Make sure Shoko doesn’t go too far, she has a habit of getting carried away…”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

pt 1.  pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5.

˚₊✩‧₊thank you for reading my way too overly complicated fic, i have so much planned and its all really self indulgent but I'm glad I can share it with other nanami lovers. i'll try to be better about posting the next part without a three month ghosting period, but in my defense the end of 2024 was out to get me....anyway much love to you all and as always if you saw a typo, no you didn't -Nana

˚₊✩‧₊ taglist: @wrldtups @rjreins @phattyboo90 @tnyblacklesbo @silkija @justwantedachange @inthedarkshadows000 @nniiyyaa @starkmila09 @sikuthealien @wifenanami @bloombb @kentos-glasses @inciteterr0r @naturalismi @kimkimoruo @thatvintagefanboy @lavenderdaydream97

[more-hysteria-things]

BEGGING FOR SOME LIKE JACK FLUFF FROM LIKE A ROUGH DAY ON SET AND HIM JUST BEING SWEET TO US!! (my first scenario🥳)

ROUGH DAY

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jack champion x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it’s one of those days on set, and jack is not having it. even worse that it’s his birthday, the day when it’s supposed to be fun and carefree. then, you come along to truly show how much he means to you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none! just tooth rotting fluff :)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,224

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: FIRST JACK FIC LFG.

also, since this is my other account for non-sturniolo fics i’m still putting the same tag list. if you would like to not get tagged for this blog, just let me know!

shoutout to bbg @venusbabysblog for helping me get started🥹

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 blessing. it’s a job where you have great opportunities to meet amazing people and be in hit films, but sometimes it’s a struggle. jack opens the door to his trailer with a clenched jaw, shutting the door as he looks around. his eyebrows twitch in confusion, noticing how you’re not in sight.

your boyfriend loves to bring you along to wherever he goes for filming. one reason being that he honestly can’t live without you, but also because you’re his biggest fan and will support him through anything. usually, you’d be watching him act from afar or you’d be waiting in his trailer by watching TV or keeping yourself occupied in general. however, you’re nowhere to be seen.

he’s on a long break until later tonight, which annoys him. he just wants this day to be over. “y/n?” he calls out, peeking his head into the small bedroom. alas, you’re not there.

alarms start to go off in his head, although it’s silly. you can’t really go anywhere, but since you’re not in your usual spot, the caring boyfriend in him makes him worry that something bad has happened. especially since you didn’t text him that you were going somewhere or anything.

then, a giggle is heard along with the opening of his trailer door, and he turns around to face the noise. he takes a small sigh of relief when he sees you beaming from ear to ear holding a present bag.

while in the middle of a scene, jack texted you about the day he’s having—lines he couldn’t nail, and a director who seemed impossible to please. you frown slightly when you see his semi-disgruntled face, shuffling over to him excitedly to wrap your arms around his body in an embrace he desperately needs. he exhales deeply, bends down to nuzzle his face into your neck, and kisses it softly.

“sorry, i was hoping i’d be back before you were, but your mom and i got stuck in traffic,” you say in his chest before pulling away after long seconds. trying to make the atmosphere more positive, you smile and extend your arm with the bag in hand. “happy birthday!”

the smallest smile appears on his face, grabbing your hand to head over to the leather couch to sit down. he places the bag onto the floor, removing the tissue inside of it to reveal his presents. his eyes widen in surprise, seeing more than he thought you’d get him. “you didn’t have to do all of this...” he says, a small blush forming on his cheeks.

he pulls out the first thing that sits on top of the rest, which is a homemade birthday card out of construction paper in his favorite color. he lets out a chuckle as he looks at the front of it, seeing two drawn stick figures that are supposed to be you and him holding hands with the title in big writing: HAPPY BIRTHDAY •ᴗ•

opening the card, there’s a bunch of words scribbled on the right side.

jack,

*queue song* happy birthday to you!

i am so incredibly proud of you watching the way you chase your dreams. here’s to many more birthdays, memories, and quiet moments in between the chaos. no matter how many lights and cameras around, you’ll always just be jack to me. the one who laughs too loud, holds me close, and somehow manages to make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world.

i’m so grateful to be apart of your story.

always, y/n ❤︎

p.s. like what your name implies, you are indeed a champion.

his heart jumps with joy, closing the note and leaning in to peck you on the nose. your face turns red as you try not to beam with happiness, tilting your head to the bag. “there’s still a lot more.”

he nods, placing the card aside as he grabs a leather journal, specifically personalized for him. the border of it is embroidered with eye-catching detail, his initials JC in big cursive letters in the middle. you know jack sometimes likes to scribble lines down in between takes in a way to remember, or something to put his ideas in for fun. he flips through the pages rapidly, the gust of air flowing on his face as he smells the paper and leather mixed.

you watch his every move, nibbling on your bottom lip excitedly when he pulls out a small, navy blue box. inside of it is a chained necklace with a small pendant of a waxing crescent. the moon phase the day he was born.

scratching the back of your neck nervously, you speak. “this one’s a little girly…” you trail off. “you don’t have to wear it, you can hang it up or something for decoration. i just thought it was pretty.”

he nudges your arm with his elbow. “stop that. it’s beautiful; i love it.”

jack carefully takes it out of the box, undoing the chain and reaching behind his neck to clip it. the length is perfect, and the accessory oddly suits him. “thank you.” he says softly, running his hand over the moon and reaching into the bag once more.

this time, he pulls out two things. another book along with a film camera on top of it tied in ribbon so both items can stick together. while untying it, he notices the scrapbook underneath.

THE STORY OF US…

he glances at you as he starts to look into it. the pages are filled with film photos, ticket stubs, and little mementos from your favorite times together. you’d written little captions under each, capturing inside jokes and sweet moments. it was something he could flip through on hard days.

however, each left page is blank. “you can add to it whenever you have the time. it takes two people to make a love story, you know.” you explain, feeling somewhat cheesy and cringy at the saying, but you mean it.

last but not least, the last few items are snacks. homemade cookies, energy bars, and even a small container of his favorite food.

he feels overwhelmed by all of the gifts but in a good way. nobody has ever shown him this much adoration before, and it’s obvious how much he means to you. “y/n.” your name rolls perfectly off of his tongue, his eyes not leaving the presents now scattered on the couch cushion. “i love it all so much. genuinely, thank you.”

you place your hands on the sides of his neck so he can look at you, kissing him full of love. he cherishes you, and he couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend. he’s always so grateful that he met you that time in his hometown. you made his 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐘 turn around completely.

“how’d you even do all of this?” he adds, starting to feel dumbfounded about how you did all of this under his nose without him knowing.

“i don’t kiss and tell.” you say with a smirk. “but also with the help of your mom.”

laughing, he grunts as he lays to rest his head on your stomach, your hands finding way into his wavy hair. “i’m so in love with you.” he mumbles, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it.

best. birthday. ever.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @deareststurns @starz4star

[inmyheaddd]

✦ brand new, full throttle - percy jackson x reader

summary: your best friend percy confesses quite possibly the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard from him a/n: friends to lovers you’ll never get old!!

the fire crackled softly as the waves lapped at the shore in the background, the distant sound of laughter and chatter blending with the hum of the ocean. everyone else was still in the dining pavilion, and you sat down a good few feet away from percy, behind him. 

you pulled your knees to your chest, staring up at the stars twinkling above, lost in thought.

you didn’t know why percy had been so quiet all day, but it wasn’t like him. normally he’d be the one making jokes, grinning at you from far away and sending you a wave, or simply saying stupid things to try make you laugh. 

instead, he’d just been… quiet. every time you initiated a conversation you could tell his mind was in a whole different place. even now, it seemed like he didn’t even notice your presence further down the beach. you stared at the back of his head, his gaze clearly fixed somewhere far beyond the horizon.

finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. you stood, brushing the sand off your shorts and walking over to where he sat, closer to the shore but still far enough where you didn’t have to worry about wet sand.

“okay, you need to spill,” you said, dropping down beside him.

he blinked, glancing at you like he hadn’t noticed you coming over. “what?”

you dropped down beside him, close enough for your shoulder to brush his. “don’t ‘what?’ me,” you said, raising an eyebrow and tilting your head to look at him. “what’s going on with you? you’ve been weird all day.”

he huffed a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair. “nothing, i’m fine,” he said, but it wasn’t convincing.

“percy.”

he sighed, leaning back on his hands and staring out at the waves again. “i don’t know,” he started, his voice low. “i’ve just been thinking.”

you took in the way his face looked with the low moonlight hitting his features, trying to commit it to memory. “about what?” you prompted, your gaze never leaving him.

he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure how to put it into words. finally, he turned to look at you fully, his expression soft, almost vulnerable. 

“it’s just, you always reminded me of something, and i’ve been trying to figure out what it was,” he said, pausing for a second before continuing. “but i think i got it,” his eyes scanned your face, “it’s— you remind me of the ocean.”

you blinked, caught off guard. “the ocean?”

you didn’t think there were any qualities you had that were similar to the ocean. percy was all things ocean, so, to say you were incredibly confused was an understatement. you were definitely intrigued, though. 

“yeah,” he said, his lips twitching into a small smile. “and not just ’cause it’s pretty, and you’re pretty, but... ’cause you feel like home, you know?”

his words hit you like a wave, stealing the air from your lungs. for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your cheeks burning. “oh,” you said softly, your voice barely audible.

this was percy, your best friend percy, the one who would make up new nicknames for you just to get on your nerves, the one who would tell you to not even bother asking for his food whenever you hung out because he ‘there was no chance he’d be sharing with anyone.’ but then always ended up offering before you could ask anyway, and insisted when you said you were fine.

this was also the percy that made your insides feel like they were melting whenever you hugged goodbye, or if he smiled at you a little longer than usual. this was the percy you only realized you liked being around so much when you were separated for the school year.

again, this was your best friend percy, saying you felt like home to him? 

he gave you a sheepish smile, glancing back at the water. “sorry, that probably sounded dumb.”

“no it didn’t,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “it didn’t at all.”

he looked at you again, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you. 

the fire crackled behind you, the ocean hummed in the distance, and everything else faded away.

“that’s… that’s good, then,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. whatever haze you seemed to be feeling, he looked— and sounded— like he was in it too.

neither of you moved for a moment, and then—almost without thinking—you leaned in. so did he. when your lips met, it was soft and warm, like the waves brushing the shore. his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as you melted into the kiss. 

when you finally pulled back, your heart was pounding in your chest, and his face was so close you could see the little freckles on his nose that were only visible in the spring and summer. 

“what?” you asked softly, noticing the way his lips twitched into the smallest smile.

he shook his head, like he couldn’t quite put grasp the words, then glanced out at the waves before looking back at you. “nothin’,” he said, his voice quiet. “just… missed you recently.”

your chest tightened, warmth spreading through you as you smiled back. “i missed you too.” you said, “we here now, though” 

his smile grew, just a little, and then you rested your head on his shoulder. his arm wrapped around your shoulders and brought you closer.

you couldn’t help but ask, “so, that’s what’s been on your mind all day?” a small laugh escaped past your lips, “the reason why you were acting so weird?”

percy chuckled, leaning back on his hand behind him and looking down at you. “well, yeah, i guess.” he sent you one of those sarcastic smiles, “that, and whether you were gonna share the candy you snuck in later.”

you shoved his shoulder lightly, getting out of his hold with a laugh as you rolled your eyes. “unbelievable.”

“what?” he said, grinning, holding his arms out. “i’m a guy of many thoughts. you’re just the main one.”

“percy!” you groaned, covering your face, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

he laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “come on, don’t act like you’re not flattered. you’re up there with sleep and candy— very important stuff.”

you peeked at him from between your fingers. “you’re lucky i like you.”

“yeah,” he grinned at you, putting his arm around you once again, and you melted into his side. “i know.”

tag list: @lovethornes @littlemissmentallyunstable @midiosaamor @maybxlle @imaseabear 

@sheisntyou @off-to-the-r4ces @anintellectualintellectual @wish-i-were-heather @hxress23

@hermesenthusiast

[grapejuicebrat]

because i liked a boy

PAIRING: dark!rafe cameron x reader

SUMMARY: you thought dating rafe was hard. but breaking up was much worse.

WARNINGS: language, death treats, angst, abusive relationship, happy or not happy ending is up to you.

WORD COUNT: 1176

my masterlist

breaking up with rafe was hard. first of all because it was your idea. you wanted to move on. rafe was happy just where he was. you wanna know what it was? somewhere in the middle of your relationship, when his true colours started to show and hurt, you fell out of love with him and started creating this sort of fantasy in your mind of who you hoped he would eventually become for you and fell in love with that. needless to say, you learned the hard way that people don't become who you want them to, if that's not who they want to be. that’s why you were with rafe for more than 3 years. you wanted to believe that he would change for you but in fact he changed you.

in the beginning of your relationship it was all so innocent. rafe gave you all his attention, every evening you went out on some fancy dinner. daily calls and texts - everything felt like some sort of fairytale. you felt like a princess. you were finally in healthy relationship.

tanneyhill was your second home. you stayed here for a night more often than at your own house but your parents were okay with that. you were safe with your boyfriend, so everything was alright.

you knew from the beginning that rafe uses coke. but again, you closed your eyes and pretended that everything is okay. rafe knows what he is doing. he is older, he is smarter. he makes money so you can relax and don’t have to think about anything. it didn’t effect your relationship, rafe knew how to combine his business and private life. at first that’s how it was.

and than everything changed. step by step. slowly. so you didn’t notice at first.

sometimes he would shout at you. and than rafe would come to you and hug you tightly. he would say that he is sorry and it’s just emotions. of course you forgave me. you believed him. you loved him.

than he wouldn’t even tell you that he is sorry. he shouts at you even when you’re not guilty, but it’s okay. he is just a human who has emotions. you would be okay with that. you would just go to your room or if rafe tells you to leave you just silently leave. and than come back if rafe says so.

two weeks later and you have a bruise on your neck. of course it wasn’t okay but every time you tried to find some shitty excuse like work is stressing him or it was your fault.

of course you understand that it is not okay. and you need to do something about that. you wrote some notes, mentally preparing for some conversation with rafe. you wanted this relationship to work. because you loved rafe and he loved you. maybe. the thing is every time he came home, you were afraid to tell him something, he wouldn’t be happy with. you didn’t know what is coming next.

rafe could easily call you a slut or would tell you that he wanted to fuck another girl but remembered that you’re waiting for him at home. so you need to be thankful for him keeping his dick in his pants. and you know what’s funny? you thanked him for this.

love made you blind. you were thankful for him just coming home. and you were thankful for him not fucking another girl.

you had to get over the fact that you would probably never get an apology from him because in his twisted mind... he'd done absolutely nothing wrong.

you kept running back into his arms because you're settling for what's familiar. you kept holding on, hoping that there's still something there. you missed him because he's all that you know. he's all you're used to... but he's also the reason you kept putting your life on hold. have you ever thought that maybe if you actually let him go, you would finally be able to breathe again?

rafe was asleep and you were crying by his side. part of you wanted him to hear your cries and he would wake up. he would hug you and tell you that everything will be alright. other part wanted to just disappear. you wanted to be all by yourself without those arguments, without those problems.

maybe you are his favorite. so he says. but how many times has he made you feel alone. how many times has he filled your heart with anger and sorrow. how many times have you felt the bitterness. the emptiness. the endless void that leads to nowhere.

the truth is. he is a broken man. and honestly, you're not meant to fix him. you’re not meant to save him. change him or even force him to get his shit together. no. if he doesn't want those things for himself to begin with, then why should you exhaust yourself trying to help him. you can't make someone care. you’re not his mother. and your love is not meant to be drained by redirecting careless grown men towards their glory. you’re better than that. you have your own problems to deal with. and honestly, you have better shit to do.

that’s what you were thinking about months later. that’s what you were thinking about when you were breaking up with rafe. because if you don’t do that now it will be harder to do this later. maybe even unreal.

“rafe, we’re over”

back to these days, if you knew everything will be like this, you would never break up with rafe. never.

dating him was bad, but break up was worse. rafe always kept an eye on you. not in a sweet way, course no. in a creepy way, like joe goldberg and i mean it. every guy who you ever talked to was missing now. you never met them twice. all because rafe saw them as a danger.

in the beginning he sent you flowers. beautiful, bigger than your whole body bouquets. rafe would go to your house and beg on his knees so you come back to him. of course you wanted to give in and give him a second chance. but in fact you gave him so many chances during your relationship so it wouldn’t be even close to a second chance.

a week later you would receive texts with death threats and something about you being a fucking pussy. you understood that he won’t change. never. rafe would pretend that he is getting better but in fact he’ll be the same old rafe. toxic, dark, manipulative. this relationship would never work.

by now you’re sure you two just weren’t meant to be.

you: I stayed with you for so long throughout the bullshit because I was torn between not giving up on the person that I loved, and coming to terms with fact that the person that I loved no longer existed inside of the body that I was staring at every day; and I don't give a fuck what anyone says... that's a really difficult and painful thing to wrap your brain around. It takes a while to believe it.

rafe: fuck you. you’re just a fucking pussy. can’t even admit that you never loved me.

and he has no idea how wrong he is. you were ready to break yourself for him. that’s how much you loved this man.

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[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I Want It All: Part 2

Part 1, Part 3

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Kissing, Angst, Asexual Angst, Allusions to Past Relationships

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?

A/N: OMG, thank you to everyone who has read the first part. I was not expecting for it to blow up like it did. Hopefully this next part doesn't disappoint. And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!! (Especially those I've tagged. I'd really like to know if you still like it.)

Word Count: 3.0K

How could ten feet of hallway feel like a death march?  It was a question you never thought to pose to yourself, until you faced the distance between your door and Astarion’s. 

What could you even say to him? An apology was always a good start, but for what? Neither of you made any formal declarations of intentions towards each other. That was the whole point of this game of yours, to keep the other guessing. It wasn’t like you outright lied to him or made promises you didn’t intend to keep. 

So why did you feel so guilty? 

Of course, you could be working yourself up over nothing. He could just as easily laugh in your face. 

With all these thoughts swirling in your mind, you were almost surprised to see the light beneath his door reflecting on your boots.

A lump of panic tightened your throat. From the angle of the light, he wouldn’t be able to tell you were standing there. There was still time to turn around, put it off until morning–.

“The door is open, darling.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his voice. He didn’t sound upset or angry. Hell, he didn’t even sound smug. It was that rare gentleness he only took on when nobody else was looking. There were times it seemed to surprise even him. You didn’t stand a chance. 

With a breath, you opened the door. 

Warm candle light met your eyes, illuminating the room with a soft orange glow. The room itself was nothing special. Similar to yours it really only held the bed, desk and chair. The only noticeable difference was the widow facing due east, its curtains open allowing a view of the rain pittering against the window. 

Astarion had insisted on this room. You understood why now. He always wanted to start the day facing the rising sun. 

For a brief moment, you allowed the stillness of the moment to calm you, before turning your gaze to the man himself. 

Oh thank the Gods, he was still dressed. 

Astarion sat on the edge of the bed, in his most comfortable white ruffled shirt and black pants. Despite his casual appearance he still came off as nothing short of a prince awaiting his court. His lips were posed in a knowing smile as he regarded you, tilting his head to the side. The light of the candles caught his scarlet eyes, making them burn.

“Are you going to keep that open all night?” he asked. 

Blinking, you turned to see your hand was still on the door handle. A little too quickly, you shut it behind you. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, not knowing what else to say. 

“It’s quite alright,” he said, his tone only mildly teasing. 

You stood there awkwardly, not really knowing where to put your hands. How in the hells were you meant to start a conversation after everything he saw? You were a bard for Gods’ sake. Talking was supposed to be something you were good at. Still the silence lingered, becoming worse with every second. 

Astarion raised an eyebrow. “What are you still doing way over there?”

You shrugged, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise up your neck. “Is there somewhere else you want me?”

He gave you a playful smirk, offering his hand. “Come on. I’d promise not to bite, but…” He trailed off, widening his smile enough for his fangs to show. 

Of all things, it was that small flash of teeth which put you at ease. He was poking fun at you. Surely that was a good sign. 

Slowly, you walked toward him, taking his outstretched hand. He was cool to the touch. His fingers a mixture of manicured softness and well fought calluses, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. You centered in on sensation letting it the ground you back into the here and now. 

He guided you to sit next to him, never letting his touch slip from yours. 

“That was…quite a performance,” he said. 

You gave a half hearted smile. It was as good a place to start as any, but you couldn’t look at him, instead focusing on the way his hand intertwined with yours. It should have frightened you or at the very least made you suspicious, but it felt too good. You didn’t want to break the spell. 

“I wasn’t expecting it,” you said, honestly. 

He gave a hum of agreement. “I don’t think any of us were.”

His hand trailed further up your arm, allowing his thumb to brush against the scars on your wrist. 

A small shiver went through you. The scars on your neck had long since faded after the first night you let him feed on you. You’d made a point to only let him bite your wrist from that point onward. It was meant to hedge expectations. You’d thought a neck bite would make the act more charged than you intended. What a fool you were. Of course he’d find a way to make even the barest touch feel intimate.

“The melody alone…I’ve never heard its equal,” he continued. 

You nodded, unsure what to do with his praise. You couldn’t dismiss it as easily as before. He sounded too sincere. 

“Thank you,” you said, softly, “but I’m not sure how much credit I can take. It felt more like the song was playing me.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me. How else could you explain such radiance?”

You felt now was the time for you to say something clever, but any words that might have formed fell heavy on your tongue as he moved your wrist to his lips, pressing a kiss to the raised marks of your skin. Your heart began to pound. No doubt he could feel every racing beat of it. 

“Are you hungry?” you said, the words blurting out before you could stop them. 

He laughed, the vibrations running down the length of your arm. 

“Certainly,” he purred, turning his gaze to you. “But not for blood. I was hoping you’d let me indulge in some other parts of you.” 

Panic struck you then, turning in your stomach as your eyes widened. “Astarion…”

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he said. He still held your wrist delicately in his hand allowing the other to brush lightly against your cheek. 

Your breath shook and damn you to the hells if you knew exactly the cause. 

“I saw you,” he whispered. “I saw what it is you truly desire. It was beautiful, passionate…starving, and all for me.” He leaned it close, the warmth of his breath dancing against your lips. “Am I wrong?”

Your mouth became dry as sand, forcing you to swallow. “Not entirely.”

“Would it surprise you then, to know I want the same thing?”

The sudden urge to laugh rose within you. Gods was this really happening? “I rather doubt that.”

“Then allow me to show you.” 

Before you could say another word, he closed the small gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. 

It was…nice; really nice, if you were being honest. His hand cupped your cheek, as if it were made of the finest porcelain. There was a care to his touch you hadn’t expected, leaving the door open for you to pull away. The assurance was enough to make you want to stay. 

You’d always liked this part. In truth, you craved physical affection; holding hands, hugging, kissing, they had a way of making you feel so much closer to those you cared for. The trouble always came when people expected more.  

He pressed further into you, teasing your mouth to spark a reaction. 

You needed to pull away. If there was a time for you to stop, this was it. But, it did feel so good. Maybe you could indulge a little longer. It was just kissing. 

Your own hand reached out, lacing your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. 

He hummed in approval, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. 

You let yourself get lost in him. It was easy to forget when he held you so reverently. For a moment you could convince yourself this was all there was. 

A slight shift in his body. His hands grasping you just a little tighter and next thing you knew you were on your back with Astarion hovering over you. 

His low moan poured into your mouth as he slotted himself between your legs and pressed his weight against you. 

Fear spiked within you, forcing the air from your lungs. Shit, this was happening.  

His lips left yours trailing kisses across your cheek to the underside of your jaw. 

“Just relax,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so well for me.” 

His lips met your neck and it was taking everything in your power to breathe normally. 

This wasn’t what you wanted, but it didn’t feel bad. Astarion was being so tender with you. Maybe, if you went through with it, things wouldn’t have to change. You could still flirt and tease. Hell maybe you could convince him to simply hold you now and again. All you’d have to do is let him have something for himself. It was more than a fair trade. Besides, he was experienced in this, certainly more than others you’d been with. You could do this for him. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before. 

His hands moved further down your body, teasing the edge of your shirt. 

The memory of that twisted melody came into your heart filling you with dread. The way you had been so willing to morph yourself into what somebody else wanted for the sake of not being alone. Wasn’t this supposed to be different? 

“Wait, stop,” you said, before you had time to question yourself. 

To your relief, Astarion didn’t hesitate pulling his hands away as if they just caught fire. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. “Did I hurt you?” 

You shook your head, that familiar guilt twisting inside you at his concern. “No. You didn’t do anything, I just…” You swallowed. You weren’t going to cry.  Not now. Gods, you were such an idiot. “Could you…could you move off me? Please.” 

His brow furrowed, but he did not question you as he pulled himself away. 

Cool air rushed over you, pulling a sigh of relief from your lips. For a long time you just laid there, calming the rush of adrenaline pumping through your blood. It was over. It was all over.

With an effort, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position. Out of the corner of your eye Astarion watched you, his expression unreadable. You’d expect nothing less from him.  

“I’m sorry,” you managed. 

“I don’t need an apology,” he said, firmly, “but I would like an explanation.” 

Slowly, as if to keep from frightening an cornered animal, he turned his body to face yours, making a point to keep a respectable distance. He really wasn’t going to make this easier for you. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked. 

You shook your head fervently. “No. No, you were perfect. That’s rather the problem.”

His lips turned into a hard line, clearly unsure how to take your statement. His eyes then narrowed, leaning closer to more carefully examine your features. 

“You’re not cursed, are you?” he asked, suddenly. 

The question caught you off guard, forcing a laugh. “What?”

“You know, something something, any man who touches you below the belt is smited. That kind of thing.” 

You shook your head, baffled as to where this conversation was headed. “No.” 

He nodded, in consideration “Alright then, any diseases you neglected to inform me about?”

“No.”

“Hells, don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”

“Gods no!” you snapped, feeling your whole body go flush. 

“Then what is it? One second you were there and the next…” he trailed off, before forcing a deep breath. “Look, I’m not angry, but if there is something wrong, I’d prefer to know.” 

“Nothing is wrong,” you insisted. 

“So why the hesitation?” he pressed. “You find me desirable. I’ve made clear I find you desirable. We’ve been dancing around each other for weeks and even have a proper mattress for the occasion. The only conclusion I can come to is there’s something you’re not telling me.” 

You opened your mouth only to close it again, wracking your brain on how to start this.

To your shock, Astarion remained silent. It wasn’t the quiet entitled anger you had received in the past or even idle confusion. He looked like he truly wanted to know. 

You let out a long sigh. There was no getting around it now. 

“I do find you desirable,” you said. “The trouble is, physically speaking…I don’t really.”

He raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Is this your way of telling me you don’t think I’m pretty?”

You had to laugh, shaking your head. “Astarion, I promise, you are possibly the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. But that doesn’t factor into why I desire you.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No,” you said plainly. “It never has. Not with anyone.”

He cocked his head, his eyes caught between his natural suspicion and genuine surprise. “Never?”

You shrugged. 

“Above such things are you?” he said, dryly. 

“It’s not as if I’ve taken a vow of chastity,” you snapped. “I’m not trying to achieve some arbitrary moral purity. I just never felt attracted to anyone in that way. I can look at someone and know objectively they’re beautiful or handsome or any number of other descriptors, but that need, that hunger so many people describe, it just never clicked.”

He continued to stare at you blankly before his mouth turned into a hard line. 

“So when I was kissing you, just now. You didn’t feel anything?”

“Not especially,” you said, a little guilty. “Don’t get me wrong, it was pleasant. I do like being close to you. It’s just the things kissing leads to I’m not a fan of.”

You didn’t know what to make of the look that shot across his face. He seemed lost, somewhere far away, before blinking back to the present. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” he asked. 

“I meant to,” you assured. “I should have. I just…sometimes forget I don’t need a reason to say no.” 

You took a breath, willing yourself to calm. 

“I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking some part of me was broken. That if I waited long enough or tried hard enough, I’d feel the things I’m supposed to feel. I’ve come to terms with the fact I never will. I’m not upset about it. It just means that what I want, what I desire from another person, it’s different than most.” 

He took that in, his red eyes peering deep into yours as if truly looking at you for the first time. 

“So, if it’s not my body you desire, what else could you possibly want?” 

You stared at him as his expression suddenly hardened. His whole body turned on edge as if waiting for you to cast the ending blow. 

“What?” he prompted, sharply. 

You shook your head. “You really don’t understand, do you?”

He gave you an incredulous look. 

Keeping your movements slow and obvious, leaned closer to him. You reached out, moving towards his hand. 

He didn’t pull away, but the guarded expression never faded. 

You took that as a good sign, allowing your hand to rest on top of his as you looked him straight in the eyes. 

“Astarion, when I say I desire you, I mean all of you,” you said, keeping your tone as clear and open so there could be no doubt of the truth of your words. “I want your attentions. I want your adoration. I want your petty jealousies and loud annoyances. I want your teasing. I want your promises and your secrets. I want nights filled with your laughter and mornings in your arms. I want to feel your heart in my chest. I want to know it beats for me. And in return, I want to give you mine. So no, I’m not especially interested in your body. But for the rest? I’m insatiable.”

He only stared at you. You supposed you should take it as a triumph. You’d found an effective way to shut him up at least; declare your overwhelming love for him.

“I know,” you said, softly. “It’s a lot. I’m a lot. But, you don’t have to worry. I don’t expect anything.”

“You don’t?”

You gave a self deprecating smile.“Despite all evidence to the contrary, I’m not an idiot. I know whatever…favor you gave me, it wasn’t real.”

“That’s not true,” he said quickly.

You gave him a doubtful look. 

He grimaced. “Alright, maybe some of it was, but–.”

“It’s fine,” you cut off. “I know what game I was playing. I’m just not very good at it.” 

You pulled your hand away, letting your eyes fall from his. Despite the coolness of his touch, somehow your hand felt even colder at the loss of it. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice unnaturally unsure of itself. 

You tried to smile. “Don’t be. I’ll get over it. I always do.”

Something in his eyes flicked in the firelight. His expression turned contemplative as he looked deeply into your eyes. 

“I rather doubt that,” he murmured.

A sharp pain buried its way into your chest at his words, not because they were cruel or came from a place of arrogance, but because they were undeniably true. 

You pushed yourself off the bed, forcing down the well of emotion threatening to burst from your eyes at any moment. 

“I should go,” you said. “Goodnight.” 

You made your way towards the door only to stop at the sound of your name. It was said so gently, like a desperate prayer. 

You didn’t reach for it, not this time.  It already burned too much. 

Without another word, you stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind you leaving nothing but dark and silence.

Tag List:

@yaimlight, @hallowedandhungry, @bluestuesday, @meggsssart, @murmoruno, @prophetszendo, @cabbit17, @sunset-sunrise-sunshine, @isharaneith, @thisisew, @easy-there-leftovers, @ohhnoimbisexual, @dolceaspidenera, @dork-of-the-universe, @righteous-scamp, @ambrolyer, @our-little-shared-infinity, @baldursgateslittlestar, @pkail, @nanaoise08squad, @becksynthetic, @deliriumcrow, @badgerstorms-art, @taraiel, @writingmysanity

[trippinsorrows]

ltye: in your hands

authors note: welp. here i am, once again. we're back with yet another 'what if' scenario, prompted by you lovely people in an ask that i can't seem to find to link right now. smh.

words: 3.3k

warnings: none. just sam being sam.

song inspo: in your hands by halle

Roman should have stuck with his first mind. Stayed home. Texted her some excuse about being caught up with work. She would have never found out the truth, and even if she did, he wouldn’t have given two fucks. 

Because this shit doesn’t seem to be getting any better. 

This dating thing. 

It’s gotta be at least the fifth or sixth one he’s taken her on, and each one has been just as miserable up until the point where he gets her on her knees, gagging or bouncing on his dick the minute they get back to his penthouse. Anything before that has been irksome, borderline miserable. 

Samantha is stunning. Has been since they were kids, and her body is the most desirable of the women he has on his roster. She leans on the thinner side of what he prefers, but the tits and ass are decent, regardless. She’s also just as kinky as him, which is why they’ve worked all these years.

But, the more “dates” Roman forces himself to power through, the more he’s starting to feel like bedroom activities is where it stops for them. 

Technically, he’s always known this. Even if he did have some level of desire to be in a real relationship with someone, which he doesn't, it would never be her. She’s vain, condescending, and seems to think she’s somehow better than the other women he fucks with.

If only she realized he views her just like he views the rest of the women. A warm body with a wet cunt to help him get his dick wet. 

“Roman!” Her voice cuts through his inner dialogue as he focuses on her cleavage. The dress she wore, short and tight, doesn’t help his desire to skip to the fucking part of this evening. “Did you hear what I said?”

“No.” Roman sees no sense in lying to her. “I probably don’t care either.”

She rolls her eyes and proceeds to continue like he literally didn’t just tell her he doesn’t care. “I was saying we should go somewhere.”

He’s partially intrigued now. Mostly because he’ll probably need to set her ass straight. “Where?”

She smiles and shrugs. “I don’t know. I was thinking Bora Bora.”

He shakes his head. “So go.”

She frowns, clarifying. “I said we should go, Roman.”

He scoffs, looking off at the ice sculpture in the middle of the upscale restaurant. A waste of money, in his opinion. “What the hell makes you think I have time to go to fucking Bora Bora with you?” He really wants to ask her what makes her think he would want to in the first place, but he’s trying to be somewhat less of an asshole to see if maybe this could work.

His Wise Man’s nervous voice balanced out with sage wisdom returning to the front of his mind.

“If the Elders are to force you into a marriage, why not with someone you already know? Especially someone who you know would have no issue in giving you an heir.”

If only Samantha wasn’t so fucking annoying.

She leans back in the chair. “You make time for these dates.”

Out of obligation. But, he won’t say that. “Yeah, but I can get my nut and send your ass packing in the same night. Can't do that if we're out of the fucking country.”

“You’re suck a di—”

“I’m so sorry.”

Soft. It’s the first thing that comes to mind hearing her voice. Light, almost. Kind. Even with just three words being spoken. And that’s just based off audio. Visually, Roman’s thoughts take an entirely different direction.

Stunning. 

Roman’s seen, entertained, and done a lot more with some beautiful women in his time, but the one standing at their table seems to have something more than all of them put together. She’s beautiful, easily one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever laid eyes on. And her smile, small but genuine makes him pause. As does her body.

She’s wearing the same uniform he’s noticed on the other waitresses, but none of them fill them out like she does. The white, long sleeved shirt that’s tucked into the knee length black pencil skirt can’t hide the curves he can practically see through the bland outfit. Nice, heavy breast. Curvy hips, thick thighs and an ass he can partially see from the front. 

This. This is his preferred body type. A woman who has something he can grab onto when he’s fucking her from behind. And Roman can only imagine what it would be like to be holding onto those luscious hips of hers while he—

“Oh my god, are you stupid?” Samantha’s annoying voice once again pulls him from his carnal fantasies. She gestures between herself and him. “Can you not see we’re in the middle of something?”

The girl, who Roman would guess is in her late twenties, early thirties at most, immediately looks repentant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I was just going to apologize for your wa—”

“Whatever.” Samantha lifts her hand, silencing the girl who’s now looking down at her shoes, clearly embarrassed. “What’s the special for this evening?”

“What’s your name?” Roman’s question comes out at the same time as Samantha’s inquiry. However, his voice clearly presents with more of a commanding nature. 

She swallows. “S–Solana.”

Pretty. Just like her. 

Samantha notices the way Roman is looking at her and is fully confused as to why he’s asking this fat troll for her name. She cuts in again, in that same nasty tone. “Hello? I asked you a question.” 

Solana is clearly struggling with Samantha’s aggressiveness, Roman wondering why this bitch is directing whatever unresolved feelings she has onto this innocent girl. “Umm, I think—”

Samantha scoffs, nose turned up. “You’re our waitress, and you don’t even know what the evening special is?”

“No ma’am, I do. I’m sorry. It’s just—it’s been a long day.” There’s a weight to her words, a sadness in her voice and in her pretty brown eyes. Roman notices all of these things and finds himself wondering what the story is. Everyone has one, and hers is suddenly of interest to him. For reasons he cannot understand. 

“Pretty unprofessional to bring up your personal life, don’t you think?”

Solana closes her eyes, pausing before answering. She looks exhausted. Mentally and physically. “It’s Squab. That’s the main co—”

“I’m a vegetarian. I don’t eat meat.” Roman rolls his eyes. This hoe has been saying that since they were in high school, yet every so often she goes back to having a normal fucking diet only to switch back to that salad shit. “What’s on your—”

“I’ll do us both a favor and get her to shut the fuck up.” Roman has had enough, both of Samantha’s grating voice but mostly her being a bitch to this girl for no reason. He’s a dick on the regular. He knows this. But, never has he come across someone like this Solana woman who, with just her presence alone, exudes such softness. Like, she doesn’t have a mean bone in her fine ass body. And she clearly doesn’t because anyone else would have probably lost their job by cussing Samantha out. Not that it wouldn’t be deserved.

Roman catches the faintest hint of a smile on Solana’s face as she redirects her attention to him. “Give her the salmon. I’ll take your best steak. For wine, you carry Madeira?” 

She’s pulled out her notepad and finishes taking down the order before answering with a nod. “Yes, sir.”

Roman’s jaw clenches at that sir bit. He could ruin this girl. “What do you recommend?”

She’s visibly taken back by his question, probably by the fact that he’s asking her for her opinion. “Umm—”

“Roman, I can rec—”

“I didn’t ask you,” he cuts that bitch off with the quickness, eyes never leaving the pretty girl before him. “I asked Solana.”

Her smiles widens as she answers in a more confident tone. “Julio Barros…..1950.”

Roman smirks. 

Exactly what he was going to order.

“I’ll take it.”

Their gazes linger on each other a second too long for Samantha’s liking as she cuts in once once more. “You can go now.”

Solana’s smile drops again, Roman suddenly finding himself all annoyed. Her smile is something pretty that he wouldn’t mind seeing more of, though that irritation is waned as he’s granted the view of her nice, round ass and curvy hips swaying as she walks to the back to turn in their order.

Samantha reaches over and touches his hand, Roman snatching it back and sneering at her. “What?”

She sighs. “Baby, I’m trying to talk about us.”

And just like that, he’s annoyed all over again. “There is no us.”

Samantha looks sad only for a brief second. “Roman, I’m not stupid. I know what these dates have been for. You’re trying to see if it could work.”

“If what could work?”

“Us.” She goes on to share. “There’s rumors that the Elders have been putting more pressure on you to settle down and make an heir.” Sam leans over the table, intentionally trying to emphasize her cleavage. It’s nice. He’ll give her that. But, he’s certain it’s nothing compared to Solana though and those big breast of her hers. “I can do that for you. Be that for you. Be your wife. The mother of your children.”

Not a damn thing she’s saying sounds even the least bit desirable. At all. 

“I mean, we’ve been fucking around since we were kids. Why not make it official?”

For a lot of reasons. All the reasons. The main one being Roman don’t like this bitch unless she’s choking on or riding his dick. 

What he does like, however, and finds solace in is the interactions with Ms. Solana as the evening goes on. They’re not very often outside of her bringing the bottle of wine and their food when it’s ready as well as a check-in here or there on how they’re doing.

Each time Samantha sending her the dirtiest look or just being an ol’e nasty bitch, to which Roman shuts down, cutting her off and even telling her to shut the fuck up.

The girl is just trying to do her damn job. And as his eyes locate and land on her on several different occasions, he can see that she works hard. Moving from table to table, almost saddened facial expression indicates she’s on the receiving end of more verbal lashings from people like Samantha.

That actually pisses him off, Roman having to control and stop himself from doing some out of pocket shit. 

Again, for what reason, he hasn’t the slightest clue. He just knows those brief glimpses of her actually smiling, usually when she’s chatting with a coworker, do something for him. 

Maybe even to him. 

And unbeknownst to him, the intrigue goes both ways, because as shitty a day Solana Miller was having, the handsome stranger with the rude girlfriend or wife or whatever has somehow, someway made this day just a little bit better.

It’s been some time, if ever, Solana has come across someone with such a presence about them. Him dining at this uppity restaurant she was able to score a job at tells her that he’s wealthy. His disposition and the fact that he somehow secured it to where the surrounding tables of where he sits have been marked as unavailable tells her that he has pull. But, the way he interacts with her, a literal nobody, she’s not sure what that means.

Especially with the beautiful woman he’s with, because while Solana thinks she’s every bit a bitch as most of the women who come into this place, she’s a stunning bitch. 

Which is why Solana can’t allow herself to believe that that equally beautiful looking man is looking at her in any sort of capacity. 

There’s no way in he—

“Solana.”

And just like that, she's frowning again. “Mami?”

The last thing she expected to see this evening was the sight of her mother, already dressed in her scrubs, baby in her arms. 

Solana’s baby. 

Her 11-month–old daughter, Soraya. 

The shock wears off as Nina gets closer, Solana shaking her head, “what are you—”

Nina shakes her head, face apologetic and tone contrite. “I’m so sorry, baby, but I got called into work. I can’t watch Raya.”

Shit

It's inconvenient, but Solana understands it. She remembers the countless times Nina had no other option but to leave her with a neighbor after being called into work at all kinds of hours. She’s always worked so hard to take care of the two of them when Solana was growing up. 

“It’s okay, mama.” Solana easily reaches for her daughter, a wave of relief and happiness washing over her as she holds and kisses her baby. The source of all her joy. All of the struggle, every bit of it, is worth it as long as she has her daughter. She’d do anything for her. “How was she?”

Nina gives a small chuckle. “She’s like you were and still are. An easy child.” Solana kisses Soraya’s temple. “Sol…..” And just like that, Solana already knows she’s probably not going to like what she’s about to hear. “I know you’ve said you don’t want to go after him for child support, but it’s not fair for you to be out here working two jobs while putting yourself through school to take care of his child.”

Solana holds Soraya just a smidge tighter. “She’s my baby, mami.” 

Nina counters. “She’s his biological child.” Solana looks away, hopeful her manager, Aldis, doesn’t come out and scold her for this little interaction. She’s scheduled to clock out in another half hour anyway. “He should be paying you child support.”

Her mom is right. Solana knows this, knows that it’s not fair for her to have to be the sole provider for her baby girl, while Cruz lives his best life as an absentee, deadbeat dad. And she’s considered on several occasions going to the courthouse to see what she needs to do to get that ball rolling. 

But, every time, she’s haunted by something he said the last time they spoke, not even a month after her daughter was born. 

“Don’t you get it? We were fine before she came in the picture! We could be fine again if she wasn’t.”

Solana’s never been more disturbed than she was to hear those words leave his mouth. That’s why she’s glad he’s gone, that he wants nothing to do with her or his child. Because she would never trust to leave her baby girl with him in the first place.

And if that means she does it without him contributing financially, that’s exactly what she’ll do. 

Solana shifts Soraya from one hip to the other. “I don’t need him, mami.” And she doesn’t. Because if Solana had to resort to sex work to take care of herself and her daughter, it’s exactly what she’d do.

Nina gives a heavy sigh. “Mija, you know I help you when I can.”

“I know.” Because she does. But, the same way that times are hard for her. They’re hard for her mom, too. Everyone’s struggling these days, it seems. Everyone except the rich people who wine and dine without a care in the world around them. “I’ll be okay.”

Always will be.

Nina gives a knowing nod, hugging her daughter and gently taking her granddaughter’s hand, kissing it, speaking in Spanish. “I’ll see you later, okay? Abuela loves you.”

Solana smiles. “Thanks, mama.”

“Always, baby.” 

Nina reaches Solana the diaper bag, Solana placing it on the bar stool, knowing it’s bound to be left alone. These rich ass people would never bother with the Ross purchase. With a final parting smile, Nina is off to the hospital, leaving Solana with her daughter who’s just now waking up.

“Hi, baby girl,” Solana giggles at the almost cranky expression on her baby’s face. Raya is definitely not the happiest camper when being woken up. 

A glance at the time reminds Solana that she technically is still on the clock and really shouldn’t have her child with her. But, with no other option, she accepts she’ll just have to clock out early and take whatever those consequences are.

But before that, the least she can do is grab the bill from the table where the handsome stranger and his girlfriend sat. She’s briefly disappointed to see the table empty, even if she remembers his deep voice thanking her for her assistance this evening as she brought them that same check earlier. 

It’s a silly thing, really. And she tries to push away the disappointment at not properly telling him goodbye. A stranger. 

Silly.

Soraya grasps at the collar of her shirt while Solana walks over to the table, pausing as she gets close enough to see that there’s more than just a bill with a signature. There’s cash. A stack of it. Money in hand, she’s confused, because this man paid with a black card, so what—

“Good.” 

Solana gaps and spins around, her eyes widening as she looks up. He’s a lot taller than she realized, burly body nearly eclipsing her view of anything else, silky black hair in such a neat, perfect bun. “Wanted to make sure you got it.”

Brows furrowed, it’s hard for her to speak for a lot of reasons. One of which is the fact that this man cannot be real. A man cannot be this handsome. But, he is real, and he’s looking at her.

And Soraya. 

“I—” She shakes her head, clearing her throat. “Is this—you already paid—”

“That’s not for the bill,” his voice is so velvety, smooth, and deep. “It’s your tip.”

Eyes widening, her gaze snaps to the wad of cash as Soraya continues to grasp and squeeze her shirt. She doesn’t even need to count to know that this is a nice amount of money. 

Too much.

“I can’t—it’s too much.” 

He chuckles, “do I look like I can’t afford it?” Her eyes roam over his big, muscular build dressed in fine, expensive looking clothes. He just oozes wealth. 

And power. 

“N–no.”

“Dealing with Samantha, trust me, you earned it.” Solana looks down, wanting to hide her small smile. His gaze redirects to the child in her arm. “Who is this?”

And just like that, Solana’s proud smile returns. “My daughter, Soraya.” It’s like Soraya knows she’s being discussed, lifting her little head to look at Roman. A big grin on her face before she buries her face into Solana’s neck. 

Roman makes a sound, and she can almost swear she sees the smallest smile on his handsome face. “She looks like you.”

That creates such a warm, fuzzy feeling in her stomach, “thank you…..”

He looks at her a bit confused, like her unspoken question surprises him, before answering. “Roman.” Roman. “Roman Reigns.”

Roman Reigns. Even his name is powerful.

It fits him.

Solana shifts Soraya around as she starts to get wiggly in her arms. “Well, thank you, Mr. Reigns.” She’s certain the shock of just how much money this random, rich stranger has given her hasn’t truly set in. Because if it had, she’d have a much more visceral response. 

A lot more.

“Roman,” he corrects. “Call me Roman.” 

“Roman….” 

Something indecipherable flashes in his eyes, something that makes her feel a bit unnerved under his intense stare. It’s broken, however, by her now irritated daughter.

“Mama.” Soraya makes her dissatisfaction at being still for too long known by punching her tiny fist against Solana’s chest. “Mama!”

“Shhhhh,” Solana kisses her temple, trying to quiet her down before someone makes Aldis aware of her presence. She looks at Roman, eyes softening, “thank you again.”

Truly. Honestly. He hasn’t the slightest clue how much this will help her. It’s why she can stand here without anxiety and concern about making it to the bus stop on time. Tonight.....tonight she’ll treat herself and her baby with calling an Uber instead. 

Might even stop and pick up dinner.

Roman nods, eyes briefly glancing at her daughter again, the smallest smile on his face. “I’ll see you later, Solana.” His head dips a bit in acknowledgment towards her baby. “Soraya.”

The smile is plastered on her face even as he walks off without another word. And it’s only a good two minutes later that she catches onto what he said. A certain word in particular standing out the most. 

What did he mean by later?