#that's why I'm always saying i should delete everything

[irritablepoe]

apologies if i’m overstepping, i’m sure advice from an internet stranger is the last thing you want to hear today, so feel free to ignore all of this, but are you perhaps putting too much weight behind the concept of mutuals?

i’m not trying to berate you or say that you being upset over losing mutuals is in any way invalid; that would be hypocritical of me, i have to remind myself of this all the time, but you following someone, whose blog content you like, following back for the same reason and vice versa is not exactly a blood pact. while of course one can find true friends on tumblr (and if that happens to be the kind of mutual you lost then i’m sorry, i’m truly overstepping in that case), most fandom acquaintances tend to be fair weather friendships. (if the term friendship even applies; the general consensus seems to be that most people don’t even talk to a large chunk of their mutuals) whether they left because they’re no longer interested in the fandoms you blog about or even if they were put off by your vent posts (that's their prerogative, as much as it is yours), it’s important to remember that the people who are here for you and care about you despite the horrors are most certainly still here.

No you're fine and you're right, it was just a mutual I've actually talked to before (not in a while tbf but yk it was still like. Oh). And yeah I know I'm being unhealthy about this and not wanting people to hate me and leave, I have to figure that out but then again I'm posting unhealthily alone too so ig I'm not handling this blog + interactions well in general. Idk. I agree ofc that people should unfollow when they feel like it, especially when they're triggered by my vent posting, like logically I know that, it just makes me feel like I'm unlikeable and yk. sad (which is childish tbf... Yeah I have nothing to defend myself...)

[youjustcannotknow]

the weight of the world has crushed me flat on this fine afternoon

[foxtrology]

sweet sweet baby (since you've been gone)

harry castillo x reader

series

warnings: no y/n, 28 year age gap, female reader.

The last time he had gone up to a woman was at a wedding reception and it ended terribly for him.

Lucy was her name.

He had thought she was the one. All the time they had spent together, all the nights he held her, it was all for nothing. In the end he was the one left behind while she and that broke fucking waiter—oh how much he hated that broke waiter with a fucking passion—ran off into the sunset all happily.

John.

John was his name. Living in a rundown studio apartment with a struggling college student as a roommate. Yeah, what a fucking life she decided to choose.

He still follows her on Instagram.

An Instagram she begged for him to have. He valued his privacy. Being a successful CEO had its perks but it also had his downsides. Privacy was a major downside. He's lucky if a week has gone by without The New York Times calling his office.

Something he should've done a long time ago was delete Instagram and move on from Lucy, but of course he loves to make things more difficult for himself.

19lucy89 has posted a photo!

He should've at least turn off the notifications notifying him of her posting but he couldn't do it. He still wasn't over her. Scrolling on the social media app had him scoffing.

She had posted a photo of her and that broke waiter kissing.

"Whiskey neat."

Harry slips his phone back into his pocket, thanking the bartender. Sliding off the barstool, he glances at all the couples around him. He rolls his eyes.

Since when is everyone fucking dating? Everywhere he goes it's always a couple canoodling. It pisses him off.

Getting back to his table, Danny slaps Harry on his back as he sits down. He cringes as the hand hits his back. He's always had back problems but never acknowledged them.

Not until Lucy. She made him start seeing a chiropractor.

But since she's out of his life, he has been ignoring his pains and ignoring his chiropractor’s calls. She didn't care anymore so why should he.

"Dude Vanessa and everybody are going to an afterparty—"

"Is this not an afterparty?" Harry furrows his brows, interrupting his partygoer friend.

Danny shakes his head playfully, scoffing. "Any excuse to continue drinking, am I right?"

He really didn't want to spend another hour at a party. He's 54 for god's sake, he done.

He's old. He's an old man.

He gets cranky if he doesn't go to sleep at a certain time, he gets aggravated when he pushes paperwork aside leaving it to the last minute, he hated pleasing his friends who have been trying to get him out more ever since the whole Lucy thing happened.

He's leaving, he wants to go home.

"I think I'll be heading—" Then his phone vibrating in his coat pocket stops him.

Maybe Lucy texted him?

Fuck he's so delusional.

"Actually I'm gonna head out. I have a lot of paperwork." Harry stands up, pulling out his phone.

Danny furrows his brows at his friend.

"But you didn't even touch your drink?"

Harry tells him he has liquor at his place, he can finish his drink at home, not here. He doesn't bother to say any goodbyes to any of his friends. They won't remember it anyways.

He hurriedly swipes open his phone as the cold air hits his face.

19lucy89 has added onto their stories!

Clicking onto her profile made him sick.

He should have deleted Instagram.

He should have blocked her.

But he wasn't strong enough.

She posted a video.

Though it wasn't just any other video. The video showed John on his left knee holding up a ring.

He was fucking proposing.

It was like his whole world came tumbling down.

He had never felt this sick in his life.

Harry used to hate the way rich people would talk about money. They used to say money isn't everything, how it doesn't solve anything and it isn't happiness.

He begged to differ.

He didn't grow up with much. His mother struggled especially.

She was sick and wasn't financially stable for treatment so she died.

He used to think that if they had money she would still be here.

He never told anyone about it. Never spoke about the situation, he always tried to ignore it. Until Lucy came around.

She was the only person he confided in. He cried in her arms.

He didn't understand how she could just leave so easily. He remembers the night she told him, they were in the kitchen when she spoke the truth about how she was still in love with John.

She had said that he was the one that got away and that they needed each other.

She packed up her clothes and left his penthouse.

And that was it.

And now he’s standing outside The Met at 54 years old, pathetically hung up on a woman who left him for some broke waiter in a studio apartment that probably has one fucking bathroom.

A couple bumping into him made him come back to earth. He mutters an apology for blocking the entrance.

Another fucking couple.

He shoves his phone into his pocket with too much force, rolling his shoulders as he takes the steps two at a time, the cold air biting against his skin.

Only Vanessa Garnier would throw a goddamn dinner party at The Met.

He needs to go home.

Needs to drink.

Needs to pretend he didn’t just witness the woman he once loved agreeing to marry a broke fucking waiter.

Harry is already pissed off as he stomps down the Met steps. He’s just trying to leave this godforsaken party, get home, and drown himself in whiskey while pretending he doesn’t care about Lucy’s engagement.

Then—he sees her.

She’s sitting on the steps wrapped up in her own world, scrolling her phone.

She’s alone. Not giggling into her phone like the socialites inside, not throwing herself at men with trust funds bigger than their personalities.

Just…sitting.

And for some reason, it annoys him.

"You’re in my spot."

It wasn't his spot but he was annoyed.

Maybe he was annoyed of seeing people who aren't miserable like him.

She barely looks up.

Just a quick flick of her eyes from her phone to the man standing in front of her, assessing him in a single glance before exhaling softly through her nose—unimpressed and unbothered.

That should have been the end of it.

But it wasn’t.

Since he was already irritated, already on edge, already a step away from either throwing his phone into the street or smashing it against the nearest wall—he stood there, waiting for a reaction that didn’t come.

Nothing.

No wide eyes.

No forced politeness.

No recognition.

Just a woman sitting on the steps of The Met, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, scrolling through her phone like he wasn’t even there.

His jaw ticked.

"Did you hear me?"

She sighed—actually sighed—as if he was the one disturbing her.

Well he kind of was.

Finally, she lifted her head, phone still in her hand, her gaze settling on him with all the enthusiasm of someone being asked to do a survey on the street.

"Yeah. I heard you."

His brow furrowed. He waited.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t shift.

Didn’t apologize.

Didn’t give him an inch of what he was used to—deference, nervous laughter, people scrambling to please him just because of who he was.

Instead, she blinked once slow and deliberate before tilting her head slightly to the side.

"Pretty sure the city owns these steps."

Harry clenched his teeth.

Of course.

Of course, he’d have to deal with this tonight.

This was not his night.

This was not his fucking night.

He didn’t even know why he was still standing there, why he hadn’t just turned and left. He should be in his car by now, should be halfway home with a drink already in his hand.

But for some reason he wasn’t.

For some reason he sat down instead.

A slow, deliberate movement. A shift of his coat as he lowered himself onto the step beside her, his knee brushing against the fabric of her own red coat as he exhaled sharply.

Her brow lifted slightly, her grip on her phone tightening for a moment as if she was considering whether to acknowledge his presence or simply ignore him altogether.

She settled on the latter.

Good.

Fine.

He didn’t want to talk anyway.

Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring out at the street with the same burning resentment that had been sitting in his chest since he walked out of that party.

Another fucking couple passed by.

Laughing. Whispering. Holding hands like they were the only two people in the world.

His grip tightened around his knee. His mouth pressed into a firm thin line.

He should be at home.

He should be anywhere but here.

Instead, he was sitting on the cold steps of The Met beside a stranger who didn’t care that he was Harry fucking Castillo.

He scoffed.

The sound must have been louder than he intended, because this time—she looked at him.

Actually looked at him.

Not just a glance. Not just a flicker of vague recognition before returning to her phone.

No—she studied him, just for a second.

And then…the corner of her mouth twitched.

Not a smile. Not exactly. But close enough.

Close enough for something inside of him to tighten, for his stomach to knot in that irritating way he didn’t like.

She turned back to her phone.

"Rough night?"

He huffed out a sharp breath, shaking his head adjusting his tie even though it wasn’t loose.

"Something like that."

She hummed. Hummed. Like she wasn’t even surprised.

Like she already knew that about him.

Like she had already figured him out.

His teeth clenched.

She didn’t know him.

She didn’t know anything about him.

"What?" His voice was sharper than intended.

She barely reacted. Just tapped her thumb against her screen, scrolling absentmindedly before murmuring

"Nothing."

But it wasn’t nothing.

It was something.

It was definitely fucking something.

Harry exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his exhaustion settle deeper into his bones.

This night was never going to end, was it?

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

The sounds of the city hummed around them. Car horns. Distant conversations. The occasional roar of an engine as someone sped down Fifth Avenue.

And then—

"You gonna sit here all night?"

Harry turned his head slightly, catching the amused glint in her eyes as she finally looked at him again.

"Depends," he muttered. "You gonna move?"

She smirked. "Nope."

He exhaled.

Rolled his shoulders.

Ignored the way something unsettled was shifting in his chest.

"Guess I’m staying, then."

And for the first time in a long time—he didn’t mind.

That realization alone should have pissed him off. Should have made him get up, adjust his coat, and leave like he had originally planned.

But he stayed.

The cold air pressed against his skin, sneaking beneath his collar, curling around his fingers where they rested against his knee. The whiskey from earlier still burned slightly in the back of his throat, though it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, to settle the restless storm churning inside his chest.

The silence stretched.

Not an uncomfortable one, surprisingly. But an unfamiliar one.

People didn’t let silence sit with him. They filled it, rushed to fix it, scrambled to find something clever or charming or useful to say because people who sat next to him were always trying to get something from him.

The woman sitting next to him, scrolling through her phone like he wasn’t even there. Like he was just another insignificant part of the city.

That part should have pissed him off.

But it didn’t.

It intrigued him.

He tilted his head slightly, just enough to catch the faint reflection of her screen. Not because he cared what she was looking at—he didn’t—but because he needed a distraction. Any distraction.

A taxi app.

She was waiting for a ride.

She was leaving.

Good.

Great.

That meant he wouldn’t have to sit here much longer, wouldn’t have to keep pretending like this wasn’t some strange, unexplainable moment in his otherwise predictable night.

He could go home, pour himself a drink, scroll through Lucy’s Instagram like a fucking idiot, and pretend he wasn’t still furious.

But—

He didn’t want her to leave.

Not yet.

Not before he figured out why the hell he was still sitting here.

Not before he figured out why she wasn’t miserable like him.

His gaze flicked to her hands, the way she tapped at her screen absentmindedly like she wasn’t in a hurry, wasn’t anxious about the time, wasn’t dreading the ride home.

He wanted to ask where she was going.

He didn’t.

Instead, he spoke before he thought.

"Where do you live?"

She didn’t react at first.

Just kept scrolling.

Then without looking up.

"That’s a weird thing to ask a stranger."

Harry exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly.

"You’re waiting for a cab."

Finally, she turned to him, brow raised. "And?"

He rolled his shoulders, voice even. "I’ll take you home."

A beat of silence.

Then—

She laughed.

Not a giggle. Not a polite chuckle. A real, unfiltered laugh.

Like he’d just told the funniest joke in the world.

Harry’s expression did not change.

"I wasn’t joking."

That just made her laugh harder.

She shook her head, lips twitching as she locked her phone and slid it into her pocket, finally—finally—giving him her full attention.

"You, a man who I met ten minutes ago, are offering to take me home."

Harry blinked, unfazed.

"Yes."

"In your car?"

"Yes."

She exhaled, shaking her head again.

"This is the part where I ask if you're a serial killer."

He smirked, dry and humorless. "Would a serial killer offer?"

"Maybe a dumb one."

He scoffed. "Do I look dumb to you?"

She considered him for a moment. Then—

"A little bit."

Harry almost smiled.

Almost.

Instead, he sighed adjusting the sleeve of his coat as he stared out at the street again.

"Look, I don’t care where you live. I don’t care what you do. And I don’t care if you take the cab or not. But it’s late and I have a driver waiting." He paused. "Take the ride. Or don’t."

She studied him for a moment.

Not like the people at the party, not like the women who assessed him as a prize, a trophy, a walking investment.

No, she was studying him like she was still trying to figure out if he was serious.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why offer?"

Harry clenched his jaw.

Good question.

Why had he?

Because he was restless.

Because he didn’t want to be alone.

Because he wasn’t ready for the night to end.

But he didn’t say any of that.

Instead he said, "Because I can."

She hummed at that, something unreadable passing over her face.

Then to his absolute fucking surprise

She stood.

Pulled her coat tighter around herself.

Looked down at him with a grin.

"Lead the way, then."

The Maybach was parked at the curb, sleek and expensive and definitely out of place for a random stranger sitting on museum steps.

His driver, James barely batted an eye when Harry pulled open the door and gestured for her to get in first.

She hesitated.

Just for a moment.

And then—

She slid into the seat like she did this every day.

Harry followed, closing the door behind them.

James glanced at him through the rearview mirror, silent, waiting.

Harry exhaled, glancing at her.

"Where to?"

She gave him a look.

"Aren't you supposed to be a gentleman and ask for my name first?"

He huffed. "You never asked for mine."

"Because I don’t care."

His lips twitched. "Then why get in the car?"

She leaned back against the leather seat, legs crossed, gaze flicking out the window.

"Because I wanted to see if you'd actually do it."

Harry shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he gave James the silent cue to start driving.

This was insane.

He should have just gone home.

Should have just let her take the damn cab.

But now—he was in a car with a woman who didn’t care who he was, nor his money, didn’t even seem remotely fazed by the fact that she was sitting in a million dollar car with a man who could buy out half the city.

And for the first time all night...

Lucy’s engagement didn’t feel like the worst thing that had happened to him.

The car pulled away from the curb, merging smoothly into the flow of late night Manhattan traffic. The soft hum of the engine filled the space between them, a quiet luxury that most people would have fawned over.

But not her.

She wasn’t running her fingers over the leather seats, wasn’t sneaking glances at him, wasn’t pretending to be indifferent while stealing curious looks.

She just stared out the window, completely at ease.

Harry tilted his head slightly, studying her side profile.

"You still haven’t told me where you live."

She blinked, turning back to him, almost as if she’d forgotten he was even there.

"Oh. Right." She exhaled, stretching her arms slightly before dropping them into her lap. "I’ll just have your driver drop me off at the corner of—"

"Not James." His voice was firm, sharp in a way he didn’t expect.

She raised a brow.

"What?"

"Tell me."

A slow smirk curled at her lips, amusement flickering in her gaze.

"Are you always this controlling?"

"Are you always this difficult?"

Her smirk widened slightly, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she turned to the front of the car.

"Excuse me, take me to—"

"Don’t talk to my driver."

She whipped her head back to him, eyes narrowing. "Excuse me?"

"He’s not your driver."

She let out a small, sharp laugh, shaking her head.

"You’re serious?"

"Very."

She rolled her eyes, but there was something else there, something interested.

She sighed, crossing her arms, "Fine. Since you clearly need to be the one in control, Lower East Side."

He barely nodded before shifting his gaze back toward the front.

James, wordlessly, made a turn.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Harry leaned back against his seat, stretching out his legs, exhaling slowly as the tension from earlier in the night settled into something quieter.

The city moved past them in streaks of light, taxis cutting through traffic, pedestrians still wandering the streets like the night would never end.

She stayed turned toward the window, her fingers mindlessly tapping against her knee.

The silence should have been comfortable.

But it wasn’t.

Not for him.

Because he was still thinking.

Thinking about Lucy. Thinking about how stupid he felt for still checking her Instagram. Thinking about how much he hated the feeling of losing.

But also—thinking about her.

This woman.

This stranger who got into his car without a second thought, who didn’t care about his money, who didn’t care about him.

That part was what unsettled him the most.

Because he was used to being recognized. Used to being admired, envied, feared.

But she?

She was just here.

Like he was just another man.

Like he wasn’t anything at all.

And for some reason—he wasn’t sure he hated that.

She broke the silence first. "So, what’s your deal?"

Harry exhaled, rolling his head to the side slightly.

"My deal?"

"Yeah." She waved a hand vaguely. "You seem miserable."

"You say that like it’s an observation."

"It is."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Maybe I just don’t like parties."

"Nope."

He arched a brow.

"No?"

"Not just parties. Life."

Harry’s jaw tightened. "Bold assumption."

"Accurate assumption."

His gaze flicked toward her, sharp, assessing.

She met it without hesitation.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then she shrugged.

"Look, I don’t know what rich guy problems you have but you were sitting on those steps like someone had either ruined your life or just rejected your marriage proposal."

Harry stilled.

His fingers twitched slightly against his knee, his pulse slow, heavy.

She didn’t know how close she was.

How dangerously fucking close.

She didn’t know about Lucy. About the proposal he never got to make. About much time he spent believing he was enough only to realize that he wasn’t.

She didn’t know anything.

But she still saw right through him.

And that?

That pissed him off.

"Maybe I just wanted some fresh air." His voice was clipped, sharp.

"Sure." She smirked, looking out the window again. "And maybe I’m a billionaire, too."

Harry inhaled, slow and deep, rolling his head back against the seat, eyes flickering up toward the roof of the car.

"You’re insufferable."

"So I’ve been told."

For a moment, it was quiet again.

Then—

"Was it a girl?"

His brow furrowed.

"What?"

"The reason you were brooding." She tilted her head slightly. "Was it a girl?"

His fingers clenched.

She smirked.

"It was, wasn’t it?"

He clenched his jaw.

"Not everything is about a woman."

"I never said it was." She lifted a shoulder. "You just confirmed it, though."

Harry exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face.

This was insane.

She was insane.

Why was he even still talking to her?

Why hadn’t he just dropped her off and left?

"I don’t do small talk." His voice was firm.

"Good. Me neither."

Then—silence.

Not uncomfortable.

Not forced.

Just…there.

The car slowed as they reached her street.

She shifted slightly, sitting up, unfastening her seatbelt as James pulled over.

For a second, Harry felt something strange.

Something he didn’t want to name.

She reached for the door handle, but before she could push it open—

"Wait."

She paused.

Glanced back at him. Brows lifted, waiting.

Harry swallowed.

"Let me take you to dinner."

Silence.

Her head tilted, lips curving up at the corners. "Are you asking or telling?"

"Does it matter?"

She smirked.

"I guess not."

She pushed the door open, stepping out into the cold.

Harry watched her go, watched as she turned, hands stuffed into her pockets, eyes unreadable as she met his gaze one last time.

Then—

"If you find me again, maybe I’ll say yes."

And just like that—

She was gone.

Harry sat there for a long moment.

Watched the empty space where she had been.

Felt the quiet weight of something new settle over him.

And for the first time in years, he found himself hoping—

That he’d see her again.

And knowing, somehow—

That he would.

[starlightsearches]

All Yours

"I'm going to fucking ruin you." / "I won't apologize for marking you up, everyone should know you're taken." / "I don't want anyone else. No one can make me feel like you do."

@somethingvicked tagging you because I accidentally deleted the original ask 😬 just wanted to say thanks for the request and a big, fat SORRY for taking so long. i was scrolling through my drafts the other day and saw this was like a year old and the shame managed to motivate me enough to finish this. Ooops again and I hope you enjoy!! Comments, likes, and reblogs are always cherished 💖

Eddie Munson x F! Reader

AN: 18+ only!!!!!!, car sex, partially-clothed sex, piv, semi-public, titty worship, humping, dacryphilia, unwarranted jealousy, porn with a little plot, eddie's self-depricating at the beginning but he fucks like a god, very possesive! eddie, multiple orgasms, one (1) mention of pregnancy but it's off-hand and mostly unrelated to the sex, unprotected sex, I took the spirit of the prompts more than the literal wording, this is very different for me and maybe rushed? idk you tell me 🙃

Eddie always jokes that you're his second love.

His van—with its stained upholstery, rattling frame and the battery on its last leg—was here first, he says. And despite everything previously mentioned, he treats that car like his baby.

So when he slams his door hard enough to rattle the glass in the window, it wouldn’t take a genius to know something is up.

Eddie sits silently in the half-light, gripping at the steering wheel with both hands and gnawing at his bottom lip until the skin turns white.

"Everything okay?"

He won't even look at you when he shoves the key in the ignition.

"Sure," Eddie says, but there's a bite to his voice, quiet over the roaring grind of the starter, "why wouldn't it be?"

The car does start—despite his abuse to the engine—and you prop your feet up on the dash, raising your brows as he tears out onto the empty street.

"Ohhh-kay. Is this about—"

You don't even get a chance to take a guess.

"It's not about Steve."

Eddie spits Steve's name at the window and the passing trees, their leaves blurring into inky smudges. You watch his jaw tick, eyes flashing from the road to the rear-view mirror, but never to you.

His resolve falters with the press of your hand against his on the gearshift.

"Really? ‘Cause I was going to ask if this was about Patrick Swayze?”

The speedometer ticks up for a quick beat, and then drops, and Eddie squirms in his seat.

He steers off to the right, and the van shakes as the tires bump off the smooth pavement to the gravel edge of the road, little twigs snapping off on the trees outside against the fading paint.

"Fuck," Eddie grumbles, quiet, like he's having a conversation with himself. His fingers catch in his curls when he takes the other hand from the steering wheel. It's dark out here, away from the street lights, but you still catch the shine glazing his lower lashes, the way he blinks to keep any tears from pooling there.

"I mean, it's no big deal," you tell him, petting over his knuckles with your thumb, "I just wish you would have said something."

You're not sure what lies were spread to make sure the goofy little pre-teens didn't show up for movie night and try to break down Steve's door. You just knew that—for once—everybody piled on the couch in the living room was of legal age.

It seemed like an exciting prospect when the night started, but everything was pretty much the same: just more beer, and fewer voices shouting about whatever movie you were gonna watch.

Nancy and Robin were a united front when they pulled out Dirty Dancing, and you joined them, mostly to annoy Steve when he pretended he wasn't interested.

Eddie grumbled about the choice, arm slung around your shoulder, but he came around, eventually. Nobody can resist the allure of Johnny Castle.

However many beers you had may have been one too many, though, because as soon as the credits started rolling, Steve had yanked you from Eddie's grasp and onto your feet as Nancy and Robin were cheering jump jump jump and you ran, stumbling into Steve's arms with a surprisingly powerful leap. Then you were floating, high above the living room with a bird's eye view of the crushed beer cans and Hostess wrappers littered over the carpet for one glorious second.

Until you landed in a giggling heap with Steve groaning beneath you, the room shaking with laughter to the point of tears, until Robin threatened to pee her pants.

Now that you've sobered up a little, you recognize that Eddie hadn't been laughing along.

He lets his head fall back against the headrest, eyes big as saucers, pathetic like a little dog who's about to get yelled at for pissing on the couch, and he twists the hand that's resting beneath yours until your fingers intertwine, gives you a squeeze—a move you recognize as an apology before he's got the words for what he's feeling.

"You know I'm not interested in Steve, right?" you ask, squeezing back.

Eddie nods, but his eyes tell a different story. He carries this thing with him—a kind of self-conscious bewilderment each time you reach for him in a crowd, press your lips to his, call him your boyfriend when there are people around to hear it.

It's kind of funny how much it doesn't make sense to you, how you assumed that, deep down, Eddie knew that you loved him, but also how badly you wanted him. That it wasn't some kind of fluke or coincidence or apathy that kept you here.

Eddie's breath catches in his chest, like he's trying not to cry, and you know you were wrong. You're not doing nearly good enough a job at making Eddie feel half as loved as he is.

You slip your hand from his, resting it just above his knee—an innocent start for your more illicit plans—scooting in your chair until you're almost nose to nose, lower your voice into a whisper.

"I'm serious, honey. You've got nothing to worry about."

Your plan is working already. Eddie swallows hard enough you can see his adam's apple jump in his throat, and his gaze keeps flickering from your eyes to the hand you've got on his thigh, climbing higher with each soothing stroke.

"Yeah, I-I know, baby, it's just—" his breath hitches, but he's fighting to get the words out, wet lips parting with a heavy breath as your fingers travel higher, thumb in the crease between his thigh and his crotch, "it's Steve Harrington."

His voice jumps an octave on Steve’s name, and your quiet laughter comes out in little breaths.

“I don't want to talk about Steve Harrington."

Your words hit his mouth in a puff of hot air, and Eddie gasps into the kiss that follows, moaning a little when your palm meets the zipper of his jeans and his swelling cock beneath. The tip of his nose digs into your cheek, one of his big hands finding your waist, trying to pull you closer, or as close as he can with the center console in the way.

"God, baby. Need you- need you so bad," he huffs, but you’re already breaking from the kiss, lifting your hips from the seat as you crawl into the space between Eddie’s warm chest and the steering wheel.

“Then you can have me,” you tell him, settling your weight in his lap, grasping around for the lever that’ll give you a little extra space. The seat rattles back until it stops with a heavy clunk, and Eddie has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip to keep quiet when your body lurches into his.

He won’t meet your eyes, looking out the blackened windows, checking the car like somebody’s gonna pop out from the back seat.

“What? Uh, I mean—like, here?”

You take Eddie’s face in both your hands, relishing the scratch of the sparse stubble peppering his jaw. Out of habit, his hands come to rest on your thighs, and you hum in approval.

“Whenever–“ you whisper, shifting your hips back just to bring them forward again, the crotch of your jeans meeting the bulge in his, rattling the chains hooked to his belt loops. Eddie’s neck goes taut, head pressed back against the seat.

“Wherever– “ you place your lips at the delicate skin he’s revealed, just brushing along the column of his throat. When you meet his eyes again, Eddie’s pupils are blown wide.

“And however you want me, Eddie. I’m all yours.”

“You’re all mine,” he repeats back to you, and his hands echo the sentiment, his confidence growing as he moves around to grip at your ass cheeks, pulling you more fully against him until he can grind up on you, his lips at your neck now, planting messy kisses at the edge of your throat that have you digging your fingers into his hair just to keep him there.

Your boyfriend's got a big dick—fucking hung like a horse, although he doesn't seem to know it, and he's already throbbing and heavy in his jeans, bucking his hips into you like he's trying to get you pregnant before he’s even inside you.

"Eddie," you sigh his name, just to admire the feeling of it, and he lets out a groan that has you dripping, the damp fabric of your panties sticking to your cunt and dragging over your clit with each shift of his hips.

"Yeah, baby?" he asks, and you hardly notice his hands at the zipper on your jacket, trailing it down, down, down until he can slip it from your shoulders, gripping at your tits through your tank top.

"You feel so—fuck," he's cut you off mid-sentence, pulling the neckline of your top down until your breasts are free, nipples already pebbling in the cool air. Eddie pinches one of them in between two fingers, the metal of his rings biting at the other until you gasp.

"Yeah?" he repeats, harder this time, the word mumbled into your tits. Eddie's smothering himself, licking and kissing and teething his way as he moves to replace one of his hands with his mouth over the dark, stiff peak.

He sucks the bud between his lips, glides his tongue over the sensitive skin there. The sound of your moans fills the car, and suddenly the pressure of his cock isn't enough when there's so much fabric between you. You can't pull away, though, not with how his free arm has circled your waist, forcing the sway of your hips.

"Eddie," you call out again, but he just grunts, onto the other breast now, fucking devouring you in a way only he can.

He's not stopping, teeth scraping at your skin and his lips pursed, sucking the life out of you while his other hand pinches and flicks the other stiff bud, still damp with his spit.

It's almost frightening how close he's gotten you, and just from this—the movement of his hips and his worshiping mouth.

"Eddie."

There must be something different in the way you say it this time, because he listens, finally, snaking his hand down between your bodies, slipping the button on your jeans and shoving his fingers inside until they reach the apex of your aching cunt. Your vision goes foggy, on the verge of tears from the relief of something solid pressed right up against your clit.

And his mouth doesn't stray from your tits, single-minded in a way only somebody like Eddie could be, sucking at your nipples until they both shine.

His fingers curl, perfect, sitting right where you need them as you grind and grind and grind your hips, brain turning to jelly with the way he's making you feel.

You feel Eddie's teeth bite a perfect circle on the inside of your breast, and that's what pulls you under.

You're practically screaming, and Eddie still won't stop, letting you ride out the perfect feeling of him, maybe hoping you'll remember this moment the next time Steve sees you. Just the idea of meeting up with your friends again after this has you flushing so deep you think you might combust right here.

The sparks fade slowly, your pussy still shaking and empty, wet enough you're sure you've soaked Eddie's fingers and he finally relents, his plump, pink lips tracing your collar bones, stopping at the edge of your jaw. He takes the delicate skin their between his teeth and sucks, hard.

That jolts you from your stupor. You press his head back, one hand on his forehead so you can make him look you in the eyes.

"Hey—that's gonna bruise."

You're scolding has no effect; Eddie's on a different plane now, cocky from making you cum so easily and still a little peeved from earlier, pressing past your hold on him until he can reattach himself to your neck.

"Not sorry," he tells you, marking you up between staccato shifts of his hips, "wanna make sure everybody knows you're mine."

It's impenetrable logic—you couldn't argue with him if you wanted to, and you really, really don't want to when he makes his way to your mouth, kissing you, his tongue against yours and his hot, heavy breaths, one hand balled in the fabric of your tank top at the middle of your back.

"Turn around," he tells you, guiding you into compliance with his hands at your waist, and it makes you dizzy, feeling like you'd end up on the ceiling if Eddie didn't keep his grip on you, pulling you tight against him until your back meets his chest.

It’s like he's touching you everywhere, hands on your hips and your tits and pushing your hair up off your neck—looking for more skin that he hasn't painted yet—so you're not prepared when the chair falls back, left breathless and unmoored, staring at the stained upholstery on the roof of Eddie's van.

"You good?" Eddie asks in response to the gasp you let out, urging your hips into the air as he tugs your jeans and your underwear down around your thighs.

You just nod, too desperate for any explanation, to say anything at all. Eddie's turned you stupid, has you whining into his neck when you lean your head back on his shoulder, looking up at his jaw with wild, tear-filled eyes.

"Gonna ruin you for anybody else, sweetheart," he tells you over the sound of his jangling belt, his hot cock pressed against your back. "Gonna make sure you never leave me."

You nod, fucking rabid when he shifts and you can finally feel the fat tip of his dick at your entrance, smearing the first taste of his cum over your lips.

"Nobody else, Eddie," you promise him, "just you."

Eddie takes his cock in his hand, teasing it over your pussy, nudging it against your clit until you jump in his arms. He grips tighter at your waist, holding you just under your tits to keep you still.

"Promise?" he asks.

The tears that slip down your cheeks and onto his neck must be answer enough, because Eddie slides inside you, just the tip, and the relief at even this small feeling of fullness has you crying out.

Eddie's thrusts are methodical and relentless, slow at first, but they build quickly, his hips slamming into you, his grunts from exertion and from pleasure low in your ear. And you're moaning, too, like putty against him, totally enraptured as you watch the muscles in his jaw flex, beads of sweat collecting at his hairline.

He keeps hitting this spot inside you, has you full to the brim, and you're so wet you half-wonder if your pussy juice is soaking into the seat.

It feels like the van is rocking with the force of his thrusts, steam collecting around the edges of the windows from your shared breaths. It’s obscene how in to this you are, how loud it sounds, the wet squelch of your poor cunt echoing around the interior of his van.

"You're gonna cum for me, baby," he tells you, "wanna feel you squeezing my cock."

Four of his fingers meet at the top of your thighs, rubbing steady circles over your clit. You think you might be screaming.

Eddie has you cumming like you're being raptured, twitching in his lap, tits bouncing as he fucks into you, deeper than before until your vision blacks out and you can't see or feel or think of anything but perfect Eddie Munson and his perfect fucking cock.

It's dark when you come to. Maybe he fucked you blind.

Your vision returns, though, just in time. Eddie's chest heaves beneath you, and he pulls out with a grunt, his cum and yours dripping down your thighs in a sight so lurid it's got you flushing down to your neck.

That's definitely going to stain the upholstery.

Eddie doesn't seem to care, stroking his heavy hands over your thighs, pulling your clothes back into place—gentle where they had been rough, his mouth dotting soft kisses against the back of your spine.

Eddie shifts you around in his lap, let's his big eyes find yours. Your fingers twine with his, and he laughs a little when you kiss at his knuckles.

"You know," Eddie says, cheeks pink and a stupid smile on his face, "now that I think about it, Dirty Dancing might be my new favorite movie. I mean, who doesn’t love Patrick Swayze?"

[himasgod]

Ok hear me out the second place losers (Leona, vil, jamil) getting a best Second mug as a joke for their so ;}

Jamil, Leona and Vil x Reader

Where you give them a mug that says "Best Second Place"

How would they react if you gave them a mug making fun of them for being "second-losers"?

I haven't felt good about how this turned out i've reworked it over and over again, and I didn't know what approach to take, so I deleted the angst and all that and did what I could. It's not what I'm most proud of, sorry. Still, I hope you enjoy it. 😭

When he sees the mug, Jamil takes it wordlessly and examines it as if it were a castle trap. He reads the message in a low voice:

"Best. Second. Place."

Then he looks up and gives you that neutral smile and says

"I'm reconsidering this relationship."

But you already know him. You say with all the intention in the world, "It's recognition of your talent, babe. The world doesn't give you first places, but I do recognize your worth. Even if it's sarcastic."

Jamil sighs deeply, as if carrying an invisible weight, and ends up using the mug secretly so no one can see the message. But you notice. You always notice.

Later, he starts using it in front of Kalim. When Kalim asks him why it says "second place," he simply replies,

"A reminder that, despite everything, there's always someone who sees beyond the families."

He throws you a super passive-aggressive hint one night:

"Maybe I should get you a mug that says 'Best Annoying Jerk Lover.' So we can match."

But the truth is, he appreciates the joke. Because he knows it's coming from you. Because he knows that behind the joke is genuine affection and appreciation. And because for the first time, someone sees him for who he really is, beyond being in Kalim's shadow.

Leona isn't exactly a morning person, so when you place the wrapped box on his dorm without saying anything, he just glances at it and snorts

"Now what did you do?"

When he finally opens it and sees that beautiful white mug with gold lettering that says "Best Second Place," he freezes for a few seconds.

Total silence.

Then he gives you a menacing look. He looks at you with mockery and annoyance

"Oh, I get it. Very funny."

He doesn't break it. He doesn't throw it away. He just places it carefully on the table.

"Don't even think I'm going to use that"

But the next day… there he is, drinking a morning coffee from that same mug as if nothing had happened.

If you confront him with a "gotcha" smirk, he'll just snort:

"Keep being annoying and I'll make you second in bed tonight. Just sayin'."

He uses the mug secretly because, although he'd never admit it, he likes it when you mock him, even in jest. And because it's obvious it was a gift from you.

You're the only person who can tease him without ending up buried under an eternal nap.

When you give him the mug, Vil thinks it's an aesthetic gift, so he opens it with anticipation.

But as soon as he reads "Best Second Place," he frowns as if he's just seen Epel walk out the door with badly lined lips.

Silence. Just a slow blink, then a fake smile.

"Is this some kind of satire, honey? Have you spoken to Neige?"

You give him the best excuse in the world: "It's because you're so amazing that even the judges couldn't give you first place because it would have been unfair to him."

He narrows his eyes, but can't help but muster a very subtle smile.

He puts the mug away. Then, without you knowing it, he starts using it for his face masks and detox tea.

And when you notice, he simply says,

"The design is minimalist. I'm not going to get rid of something just because it has a questionable message."

Once, during a Magicam livestream, he lets slip that he uses the mug, and his followers go wild.

"Even second place is a threat when you know no one can match you."

He likes that you're able to joke with him without putting him down. Deep down, it gives him a certain peace to be able to share that kind of connection without having to be perfect all the time.

[cheeseceli]

SKZ arguing over the bill

Pairing: ot8!skz × gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff

Request: yes!

Warning: mentions of food, reader never pays lmao. Changbin, Chan, Seungmin's were heavily inspired by "Telling your Stray Kids boyfriend you can’t afford to eat out with them" by @ronnierites . If you don't allow this pls lemme know and I'll delete this post. Not proofread

A/n: that's kinda a new format, hope you guys like it! And this have been on my to do list since forever lol sorry for the wait

Bang Chan

Doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable

But he wants to spoil you so badly

Would let you pay if you were uncomfortable but he wants to make sure you get it he would love to pay for you as well

"You know Chris, I can pay for it."

"I know."

"So?"

"I'd rather do it. But thank you baby."

"But-" you stopped talking once you saw his card swiping. You truly should be used at this point "oh."

"Why do I feel like you're unhappy?"

"It's not that I am not happy, it's just that you always pay."

"It's my pleasure."

"But I don't know, I don't want you to think you're being pressured or something like that."

"Babe, I don't feel like that at all. Don't you worry. You're always doing so much for me, that's just a little 'thank you' of mine."

You gave him a little smile and proceeded to hug him, feeling safe in his warmth.

"I'm so lucky to have you."

"I should be the one saying it."

Lee Know

Bro you don't even spare a chance

He's paying before you even have a chance to take your wallet out of your pocket

I'm surprised you even try tbh

"Should we ask for the bill?"

"Oh, I already paid for it, don't worry."

You looked dumbfounded at him while he was finishing his food. You didn't see him talk to a waiter and you're sure he didn't pay for it before you two had your meal.

"What? When?"

"When we were asking for the dishes. Didn't you see it?"

"No?" you tried to recall the moment with no success "Why would you pay? I feel bad that you pay for everything all the time. I don't feel like reciprocating enough."

His eyes soften and a little smile comes to his lips while he watches you pout. If only you knew how much you did for him.

"Hey, look at me. It's okay. You already reciprocate with everything you do. That's already perfect"

Changbin

He pays with the money, you pay back with kisses

Sorry but that's his boyfriend duty

He is physically incapable of not paying for everything

"Hey baby. I'm off work in 40 minutes. I'll pick you up so we can have lunch, okay?"

You were glad that for once you were on a voice call with him instead of being in a face time like you'd usually do. This way he didn't see the way your smile dropped so quickly.

"Um, I don't think I'll be able to."

"Oh? Why?"

"I'm kinda... broke right now. I haven't received my last payment yet."

"Okay? What does that have to do with anything?"

"I don't want you to be the one who always pays for our things. I should be able to pay sometimes."

"You don't need to. That's my boyfriend duty. You know I don't mind, I actually enjoy it quite a lot."

"Still bothers me though. I'd hate to not contribute at all."

"You can always cuddle with me and shower me with kisses. That will make me happier than anything money can buy."

Hyunjin

Stop he'll be like genuinely so sad if he can't pay

He would let you pay if you were really insistent

But then he'll go like :( and you would let him take the bill out of pity lmao

"Hyunjin, stop looking at me like that."

"But darling, I can pay. You know it doesn't bother me."

"Just this once, let me pay, okay?"

"Okay"

"...Jinnie I really need you to stop that."

"I'm not even doing anything."

"Oh God" you sigh and let your head fall, knowing the man beside you won the argument once more "Fine. You can pay."

He didn't waste a second, swiping his card as fast as possible just so you couldn't have the time to change your mind. After he payed the meal, he took your hand in his and started to walk in the direction of the restaurant's exit with a triumphant (and really sweet) smile.

"I swear I don't get why you like to pay so much."

"My love should be treated as royalty, and that includes me paying for everything you wish for."

Han

Bro is offended

Believes with all his heart that he should be the one paying

Tries to distract you when the time to pay comes

"Were you paying while I was in the restroom?"

"... perhaps."

"Han."

"Baby. You know I like to pay for you."

"But you do that all the time."

"It's my way of showing love! If you ask me, I actually don't think it's enough. It's the least I can do."

He could see in your eyes that you weren't convinced. Unfortunately (for you), he only saw that as an opportunity to spend even more money. Maybe then you would believe him.

"C'mon, lemme show you a little bit of love. You can pay me back with thousands of kisses if that's what's bothering you."

Felix

He loves to pay.

If he could, he would pay for absolutely everything that you could ever want or need.

But if that's something which really bothers you, he will let you pay as well

Tries to do that "the one who invites is the one who pays" thing and fails

"Felix. Don't even dare."

He looked at you confused until he realised you were staring at the credit card in his hand, probably hoping that it could disappear before the waiter came back with the bill.

"C'mon, it's just a small lunch. I can pay for it."

"No. I invited you. I pay."

"Actually, if you think about it, I'm the one who suggested this place."

"Two years ago."

"Still counts."

"Not as an invitation though. I'm the one who asked if you wanted to come here."

Felix sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to convince you of otherwise. If only he could.

"Okay. Next time it's on me."

Seungmin

LMAO sorry you're 100% not paying

Don't even try

Boyfriend duty pt 2 except he is even more dedicated somehow

"Why did you bring your wallet?"

"I wanted to pay for this one."

"... why?"

"You always pay for everything."

"And I don't plan on stopping so you can take your wallet away."

"Minnie, please. I don't want you to be the one who always end up paying for everything."

"But I want to. I wouldn't mind paying for every single thing for the rest of our lives. So you can't take your money away of my sight because I'm paying."

"For the rest of our lives huh?"

"Don't tease." But you didn't miss how the corners of his lips lifted once he thought you weren't looking anymore.

I.N

Rock, paper, scissors. The winner is the one who pays

It's funny and neither of you can complain about the outcome of it because it's technically fair

Except you always throw scissors first and never noticed it

And Jeongin doesn't have the heart to tell you

"We should change this game."

"No way" he said while giving the money to the cashier whilst trying to hide his grin from you "Not my fault you are horrible at this."

"Seriously though, I think you're cheating. It's impossible for you to win every single time."

"How does one cheat at 'rock, paper, scissors'? Besides, you won yesterday."

"After losing at least 50 times. And I got to pay for some ice cream. It's not the same as paying for a whole meal."

"Get better at this and maybe you get to pay for a whole meal one day. C'mon, we can have some milkshake now. Maybe you'll win this time."

You had a feeling you wouldn't though. He was sure you wouldn't.

Reblogs and feedback are appreciated!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[holysupesbatman]

SuperBat Fic Recs

Woaaaah boy. I was in the Superbat tag and saw someone asking for recs and I got about 5 fics in before I realized that wouldn't fit in a reply and decided I should just make a whole post. I feel like I've read half of the Bruce/Clark tag on ao3 at this point and yet I still find more every time I look.

As a note, this post is heavily editorialized. These are all fics I've personally read and are here because I liked them and they come from my ao3 bookmarks. If you want better details about the fic, follow the links and check them out 🤷‍♀️ I'm a picky reader so the fact that it's on the list says a lot, though our tastes may vary.

Onto the recs! I'll organize them by ratings and then by length for simplicity and at the end I'll recommend some of my favorite SuperBat authors for further reading!

🦇

Rated: G

Uno Reverse by WixenBurr (~7k rated G) is really cute and fluffy

Summary: The batkids are trying to set Batman and Superman up. Unfortunately Bruce Wayne wants to date some rando news reporter named Clark Kent.

Rated: T

Know You Better by rotasha (~6k rated T)

super fluffy and cute. I adore this fic. Summary: Clark asks Bruce on a date, not knowing he’s a famous billionaire. Bruce says yes, because this is the first time this has ever happened to him.

I'm Not As Think As You Drunk I Am by Mardiaz173 (~13k rated T)

This one is SO much fun – Nobody believes Clark after he meets the supposed "flirty, stupid, entitled drunk" playboy billionaire Brucie Wayne when he says he's actually "clever, mischievous, and sober with an indecipherable ulterior motive."

Saudade by liodain (~20k rated T)

OK THIS ONE MAKES MY HEART MELT IT'S SO FLUFFY AND SWEET I CAN'T. Like put this on your re-read when you're sad and need to feel like love and goodness exist list. Bruce breaks down in Kansas in 2006 years before BvS and meets young Clark.

fallin' for him was like fallin' from grace by Resacon1990 (~23k rated T)

It's just 20k of Clark simping for Bruce. That's it. That's the fic. He's a golden retriever and he's in love, Your Honor. Bruce is not unaffected, but the pining is glorious.

summary: Or, five times Clark finds himself falling for Bruce, and the one time he does something about it

Mr. Romantic by Pandamomochan (~24k rated T)

ft Established Relationship SuperBat. Summary: Clark gets tasked to write a Valentine's Day article. The end result has every single women throwing themselves at him. Clark has always been patient with the drove of Brucie fans. Will Bruce be as mature with Clark's sudden popularity?

How to Date a Superhero by @solomonara (~25k rated T)

Technically a series of fics. Pure fluff. 1. Someone spots the Batman kissing Mild Mannered Reporter Clark Kent. Hijinks ensue. 2. Superman kissed Bruce Wayne in full view of several dozen phones. Now the whole world, including Lex Luthor, knows Superman has a boyfriend. But that's okay. Batman has a plan. 3. Deleted scenes from the How to Date a Superhero series, ruthlessly cut in most cases to prevent the Robins from taking over.

In every sense of the word by froggy-o (bobafiend) (~29k rated T) From the author's summary: Alternatively titled "Why Wonder Woman is on the verge of losing her fucking mind."

I swear this fic is just Diana's eyebrow twitching as she watches Bruce and Clark start dating and she's let in on both their civilian identities meanwhile Superman and Batman are on the watchtower arguing and disagreeing about basically everything on the daily. In the name of Justice, of course. The identity porn is on a whole other level and it was done so well.

Get Over It by rotasha (~32k rated T)

heh this one has plenty of identity hijinks. Sooooo funny. Summary: Bruce needs to get over his inconvenient feelings for Superman and he meets an attractive reporter who he thinks can help him do just that. Little does he know...

the cost of being a good dad by Mawiiish (~96k rated T)

hehehe... the batkids set up a dating profile for Bruce and catfish Clark. It's more of a blind date for Bruce (not that he had any idea he was going on a date at all), but who has Clark been texting for the past several weeks??? Oh yeah. The kids. What follows is as follows. Still with capes!

Rated: M

Guardian Dog by BombusBombus (~22k rated M)

Summary: There's something wrong with Clark Kent. He has to be a villain, right? A threat? He doesn't behave like a normal person, no matter how handsome or clever he may seem.

grasp his heart (once and for all) by liodain (~32k rated M) soulmate AU fic. Pretty emotional LOTS of identity issues going on there like so much. Kinda high on the drama and angst there honestly but it was a cute read. Summary: Bruce Wayne doesn't believe in fate.

tell all the truth (but tell it slant) by susiecarter (~33k rated M)

love me a fake dating AU. Summary: It takes a while for Batman and Superman to work things out, once Clark comes back from the dead. Pretending to date each other in order to explain why Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are in the same place so often? Doesn't help as much as you might think.

Strangers When We Meet by Trista_zevkia (~63k rated M)

ANOTHER soulmate AU! This time feat. Kryptonian Biology hehehe. Summary: Clark Kent thought he was straight, until Batman kick started something. The question is what did Batman start? Is Brucie Wayne able to explain it to him?

ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat (~77k rated M)

OK NO LISTEN this is one of my all-time favorite fics EVER. It's so meta and so funny. Clark is us. We are Clark. Clark is writing RPF for the Bruce/Batman ship and he's very convinced it's real EVEN THOUGH he has a huge crush on the Batman... let the hijinks BEGIN.

Rated: E

Embracing Destiny by Mithen (~8k rated E)

This one is just really really cute. Summary: As a member of the Legion of Super-Heroes in the 31st century, a teenaged Clark learns a stunning secret about his own future: he and someone called "Batman" will be legendary lovers.

perfect strangers by susiecarter (~15k rated E)

like. bruh. susie did it again. This tag says it all: communication failure. I love this one though. Summary: Batman and Superman are fucking. Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are a great cover for fighting crime, and also might be dating. Bruce and Clark have no idea what they're doing; but they definitely aren't going to be able to talk themselves into stopping.

Relinquishing Control by foxyk (~25k rated E)

afsfwsdfhishdfksj no words. Read the authors summary and then just go read the fic:

Superman worries that if he lets go he'll injure his partner. Batman knows better. Batman worries that if he lets someone else in, he'll hurt them. Superman knows better.

Picture Perfect by TheSaltiestDog @the-saltiest-dog (~26k rated E)

this one is cute and then horny on main but also just so fluffy. Clark sees Bruce in a new light through candid shots, then proceeds to take lots of candid shots as they begin a relationship. Cue schmoop, fluff, smut, and – you guessed it! –Miscommunication!

A Night Off and sequel A Day Off by Mawiiish (~37k combined; first part is E, second is T)

One of my all-time favorites. My bookmark says 10/10 would read again soooooooo... 👀🤷‍♀️😅🥵

Bruce is enjoying one of his few nights off when a very persistent young man offers to buy him a drink. At first he's apprehensive; he's just here for a good time and this Clark seems to be looking for more than that. Then again, what harm can one drink do?

Clark wakes up to an empty bed and despite Bruce being honest from the start, he's still disappointed.

The Downsides to a Secret Identity by liodain (~42k rated E)

I'm currently reading this one – the summary from the author says it all, it's so good but sooo drama:

Bruce Wayne has taken a shine to Clark Kent, but Clark is more interested in the Bat of Gotham. The Bat, however, has it in for the Superman in a big way. Clark should probably have considered that before falling quite so hard. They're working together to track down some missing Kryptonian weaponry, after all...

50 Shades of Wayne by susiecarter (~161k rated E)

No but listen, this is actually so full of plot and emotional depth and not as much smut as you might think. It's a full-scale retelling of Batman v Superman but without them knowing each other's secret identities. I read it in one go... the reveal? Maybe the best I've ever read. Soooo many emotions. It's one of the few times I've read BDSM in a fic and it actually felt in character. I wasn't sure I would read it when I started, but it was a compelling read and extremely well done. Honestly, I'd read it again.

SuperBat Author Shoutouts:

susiecarter @susiecarter

liodain @liodain

Resacon1990 @sassyresacon1990

shipyrds @burins

Mawiiish @superbattrash

rotasha

Mithen

[tellafairy]

Hi, can you please explain in detail how you changed your marks + got into your dream uni and how you always stay lean? This would change my life.

i have already answered this but i will re answer it more in depth !

when i was 16, i really wanted to attend a university quite far away. it was a dream i had for a while, but i was scared things wouldn't work out — especially when my counsiler told me over and over again that my grades "weren't good enough" and i "didn't meet the requirements". i was also scared about finances and the uni being to far away.

with this, when my senior year came and i turned 17 — i had saw a sucess story on tiktok of a girl who manifested her dream university experience simply through LOA. this prompted me to do the same, and i began to completely ignored everything my counsiler said. i told myself over and over again that i am attending the university, no ifs ands or buts. i repeated simple things like "i literally got into the university, is he crazy?" "my dorm room at university is so cute i love it" over and over again inside of my head whenever the topic of university was brought up or came to mind. whenever someone asked me where i'm going for uni, i told them this university. spoke about the uni as their student would. and when filling out my application, i was laughing to myself. "why am i even doing this? i'm already a student at __.. i guess it'll be fun to show other students what an application should look like if they wanna get into __ like me!"

id also saturate! sometimes i'd spend 1-2 hours just sitting there thinking of life at that university in my head as if i was already there. id go into detail about the financial aid id get, how my dorm would look, meal plans, etc etc — everything i wanted my uni life to be like. (this part is quite important to me, i made sure to incorporate the fact i wouldn't struggle with paying for uni or finding housing). id ignore any thoughts or worries whenever they came to mind, i always made it my priority to remind myself that i already attend the university — nothing else matters.

as for changing my marks; in my home country, your highschool submits all of your grades to the universities for you. and after graduation, they send you one final copy of your transcript. so when i was applying to university, i only saw my transcript once before graduation through my guidence counsiler, and it didn't even have all of my final grades because i was still taking classes, it only had my midterm marks (which are basically ur final marks before the final exams which would usually bring ur mark up by 5-10%)

anyways, after seeing it and realizing how bad my midterms were, i just affirmed that the transcript was wrong and that my final marks would be 10x better. i told myself that i'd ace my fianl exams so well that it would bring my marks up by more than 10%. despite this — after graduation, i received a transcript with my exact same mid term marks.

but, i didn't let this discourage me. i simply disregarded the email and deleted it, i didn't even save the transcript because i knew it wasn't right. i kept affirming and affirming and saturating and telling myself that they accidentally sent the wrong transcript. and i think you know what i'm gonna say next; that's exactly what they did. my principal had emailed me alongside my counsiler, both emails had a copy of my real transcript where my grades met the standard i had created in my mind — and they also apologized for giving me the wrong transcript, informing me that the universities i applied to all received the correct one.

i had already gotten my acceptance letter into the university before i had received my final transcript, so i think that's what made it easier for me to accept and know that the first transcript they sent me was wrong.

i'm not sure what anon means by staying lean.. so i'm sorry i can't answer that part 😅 but i hope the rest makes sense!

[moyokeansimblr]

Caio Love Myself Pajamas

So Priscilla requested the Satin Robe from this set by Caio as part of their last requests on Patreon and I decided I wanted to do all of them, and I'm finally finished! (With Caio's part, anyways... Should I do Serenity's next?)

There are four pairs of pajamas, only for AF right now but I could do TF/EF in the future maybe. I made the tops and bottoms into fullbody pajamas because that's just a personal preference but they'd be easy to separate so I could do that too sometime.

Everything has morphs, is compressorized, and includes a swatch. Everything is in one rar but in individual folders so you can delete anything you don't want. I of course am obligated to say that these aren't perfect. I definitely started running out of steam (as why I decided to not do the choker in the end) so as always, please feel free to point out any issues that I missed I won't be upset 🤗 I love creating, but a patient person I am not!

❗❗ 8/11/23 zip has been updated, I made some changes to the normals on the satin robe because of an issue @kalux-sims pointed out to me. It's still not 100% but it's better! Download and let replace!

🌙 Caio Love Myself Pajamas Collection

[imaginespazzi]

Part 3: Miss Me, Miss Me Not

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15

And it hits me when the lights go on (shit, maybe I miss you)

(In which a lazy writer somehow still manages to make her deadlines, much to her own shock)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 5.8K

TW: Swearing (once again I think that's it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I'm not gonna lie til about an hour ago, I very much did not think I was gonna give y'all a Monday update but here we are! A couple of housekeeping things, I went back and added months to the years so hopefully that's more helpful. I lowkey dislike this part but I felt like the fic needed it and I'm excited to write the next part. Ngl, the editing on this is pretty nonexistent because trying to read this back lowkey killed me so please feel free to point out mistakes so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, and disliked and anything you wanna see going forward. I really appreciate all of y'alls feedback and the long reviews make my day! Have a good rest of your week lovies <3

September 2017

Azzi: just got home :) 

It’s a simple text and it should be easy for Paige to conjure up an equally simple reply. Instead she finds herself typing and deleting, over and over, because nothing sounds quite right. There’s this hollow feeling thrumming in her chest, that has only gotten stronger every passing minute since she’d said goodbye to Azzi at the airport. If she tries hard enough, she can still feel the remnants of their last hug lingering against every inch of her skin. She wants to memorize that feeling and create a blanket out of its threads to numb the ice cold shiver that’s been repeatedly running through her veins from the second Azzi had gotten on that plane. But even that might not be enough. Not when she’s learnt just how warm Azzi’s presence can be and how everything else pales in comparison. 

Paige lies to herself that it’s an accidental slip of her fingers, that she’d meant to press send not call, that she had every intention of hanging up the facetime on the first ring itself. 

But then Azzi picks up on the second one.

And really it would be rude to hang up. 

“Hey what’s up?” Azzi’s face fills the screen, tired eyes staring intently at Paige through the screen. 

“Oh um-” Paige fumbles for words, awkwardly shuffling her feet that are dangling off the side of her bed, “I just wanted to ask how your flight was?”

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “you couldn’t have texted me that?”

“Too tired to text,” Paige lies and the words i just wanted to hear your voice stay stuck, burning hot, in her throat, “gotta save these money-making fingers for more important things.”

“Yeah I’m hanging up-”

“NO-” it comes out far more forceful than it should and if possible, Azzi’s eyebrow shoots up even farther, as Paige clears her throat, “I mean- uh- you didn’t tell me how your flight was.”

Paige is too busy cringing at herself to notice the light blush that tinges Azzi’s cheeks. She’s too busy wondering why this girl brings out this nervous bumbling side of hers to notice the fond smile that almost cracks through Azzi’s lips. 

“The flight was okay. I actually got to sleep this time,” Azzi says pointedly and Paige laughs. 

“So what you’re saying is it was boring as hell.”

“I’m saying it was really peaceful not having someone yapping in my ear while I was trying to sleep.”

“So you didn’t miss me?” Paige presses, trying to keep her voice teasing despite how desperately she wants the admission. 

Azzi hesitates, as if she’s debating with herself, before, “I didn’t say that.”

It’s a little ridiculous how large Paige’s grin is but it’s okay, because Azzi’s smiling back, soft and shy. They’d look foolish to anyone else, the way they’re so intently gazing at each other through a screen as if there’s no barrier between them at all. 

“It’s gonna be weird going to the gym without you tomorrow morning,” Paige confesses after a second, moving to lay down on her stomach. 

“I bet. You’re gonna get absolutely nothing done without me,” Azzi teases dramatically before her eyes soften, “it’s weird that I’m not gonna see you at all tomorrow.”

There’s something gut-wrenching about that admission and yet, there’s something in it that heals a part of Paige’s heart that she hadn’t even known needed to be fixed. It means something to her that Azzi must feel it too. Because if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been just a little afraid that maybe the connection was just in her head, that maybe Azzi was simply tolerating her presence out of kindness. 

“You should just move to Minnesota,” Paige replies finally, “much nicer than Virgina or whatever.”

“Have you ever even been to Virginia?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she flips herself to lie on her back, holding her phone above her in a way that lets Paige see entirely too much and yet not nearly enough. 

“No but it sounds boring as fuck.”

“Not with me,” Azzi says, biting her bottom lip sheepishly as soon as the words are out. 

Paige smirks, suddenly filled with a brand new confidence, “yeah? You’d make Virgina interesting for me Fudd? What would we do?”

Azzi licks her lips and Paige feels her mouth go dry. 

“We’d be together,” the younger girl says finally, averting her gaze as the depth of her words begin to make Paige feel like she’s being flooded by an ocean of emotions she’s not quite ready to feel yet, “anything can be interesting if we’re together.”

It would be so easy to come up with a sarcastic quip or tease Azzi for being a sap and yet there’s a certain sincerity in this moment that feels too fragile for Paige to feign nonchalance. 

“Is Virginia nice in the winter?” she asks finally, hands fidgeting with the hair ties secured around her wrist, “Minny’s a little too cold sometimes.”

Azzi’s eyes shine and Paige wants to try and read them, find the little clues hidden in her irises and solve the mystery lingering behind the crimson flush of her cheeks. But the truth is that Paige is a little scared of what she’d find, a little scared that discovering Azzi might mean discovering herself too. 

“You should come find out some time,” the brunette says, casual tone filled with intricacies of something far deeper. It’s the closest they’ve gotten to saying anything of actual substance and they tip-toe around saying what they both want, daring the other to ask first. 

“I dunno,” Paige says, determined to win the game, “I’m not in the habit of showing up to places without a proper invite.”

Azzi scoffs, “a proper invite? Are you expecting someone to send you a carrier pigeon with a gold letter addressed to her royal highness or something?”

“That would be nice,” Paige surmises and Azzi rolls her eyes.

“Does your back ever hurt from carrying that ego?”

“Only hurts from carrying my team.”

“Oh my god you’re so full of it.”

“Full of talent? Yessirrrr.”

Azzi huffs, “Paige.”

“Azzi,” Paige hums. 

“Do you wanna come visit me in Virginia during winter break?” Azzi says finally, a small smile playing on her lips like she’s okay with losing this game as long as it’s to Paige. 

“If I must,” Paige says dramatically, shrugging her shoulders and everything as Azzi lets out an offended squeak. But inside, her heart flutters at the offer, at the idea of seeing Azzi again, even if it feels like a lifetime away. Because as long as it’s Azzi on the other side, Paige and her impatient self can wait however long it takes. 

“Actually you know what nevermind, you don’t gotta come,” Azzi concedes bitterly,  scrunching her face (and Paige would never tell her this but she thinks Azzi looks just a little too cute when she’s mad and so maybe she riles her up on purpose)

“No takesies backsies Az,” Paige sing-songs before her lips uptick from a smirk into something more sincere, “hey Az,” she whispers, giggling to herself when Azzi pretends to ignore her, “I’d really like to come see you in Virginia during winter break.”

And as a brilliant grin dazzles across Azzi’s face, Paige realizes that her favorite thing about Azzi’s smile isn’t when her dimples show or when her eyes twinkle, it’s when it’s there because of Paige, when it’s there just for Paige. 

“Good,” Azzi whispers as they fall into a comfortable silence. 

There’s this serene sense of calm that laces itself around Paige’s nerves. Her normally fidgeting body is content to be perfectly still, an anomaly to her usual demeanor. The truth is that Paige isn’t the kind of person who’s okay with just existing; she likes to spend every second in motion, living out the high. There’s a part of her that’s scared of missing moments, scared that the people around her will leave her behind if she doesn’t chase them. But it’s different with Azzi. The younger girl makes Paige feel like it’s okay if she takes a moment to just breathe. Because Azzi will wait. Because Azzi won’t leave Paige behind. 

“Wait,” it’s a little while before Azzi pipes up, shaking Paige out of her thoughts, “what time is it?”

Paige’s eyes flicker to the time on her phone, confused by the line of questioning, “it’s almost 9 why?”

“Don’t you have a team party or something to go to tonight?” Azzi asks, face scrunching, “I swear you told me you had something tonight.”

“Oh-yeah- Amaya’s back to school thing,” Paige sheepishly scratches her neck, suddenly feeling itchy in her flannel shirt. She’d forgotten she was wearing that instead of her daily clothes. Hell, she’d forgotten she was supposed to be going somewhere in the first place, too occupied with other thoughts. 

“Bro get up,” Azzi orders, “you’re already late.”

“Nah it’s fine. I don’t think I’m gonna go,” Paige says and she thinks she should probably feel a little more guilty about it. 

“What do you mean you’re not gonna go?” Azzi asks in disbelief, “dude you’re the star of the team. You have to go.”

“Amaya will understand besides-” Paige drags in a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as the next words fall out in a quiet whisper, “I don’t wanna hang up yet.”

“Paige c’mon we can talk tomorrow,” Azzi tries to protest but it’s half-hearted at best.

“I wanna talk right now,” Paige argues, “you don’t wanna talk to me?”

For a second Paige thinks Azzi might just say no, might just chip away a little bit of heart with a well-intentioned rejection, but she doesn’t, “always wanna talk to you P.”

“Then don’t hang up. Talk to me.”

And Azzi does. All night. 

Two weeks laters there’s a letter, in an envelope with a picture of a carrier pigeon, that arrives in the Bueckers’ mail box. 

To her royal highness, 

Unfortunately I couldn’t find an actual carrier pigeon (I swear I tried) so this envelope and the mailman will have to do. 

~ You are formally invited this winter break to the Fudd family residence in Virginia. ~

(And you better show up Bueckers)

Yours, 

Azzi

February 2033

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Ice whines petulantly as she makes herself comfortable on the couch across from where Paige is getting her makeup done, “this is parental neglect.”

Paige laughs, eyes closed, her makeup artist does her mascara, “you’ll survive.”

“You don’t know that” Ice argues, plucking a grape from the fruit basket before segueing into a rant about how boring Arlington, Texas is. 

Paige is grateful for the distraction her younger friend is providing. Her nerves had been on edge since the moment she’d woken up this morning, anxious to get the impending farewell press conference over with. She’d already started accepting that the Wings weren’t the right place for her but that feeling had only been heightened by her trip to the Valkyries. And ever since she’s come back, Paige feels a little bit like she’s sleepwalking through her final moments in Dallas. If she’s honest, she’s probably rushing things a little bit. There’s still plenty of time before she really has to move to Oakland but it had been her choice to move there as soon as possible. Paige had always been good at conjuring excuses and she had plenty as to why she needed to be in California so soon. But at the end of the day it isn’t about training or team bonding or any of the other hundred justifications she’s given anyone who’s asked. It’s about a little girl who’s eyes had been brimming with tears when saying goodbye, a little girl who had made Paige pinky swear that she’d be back as soon as possible. 

Really, Paige thinks she should be applauded for her restraint, because truth be told, the second Stephie’s lower lip had trembled, Paige had been prepared to ask Ice to just ship her stuff to Oakland so that she’d never have to let go of the little girl’s hand. 

And here’s the thing, Paige is willing to admit she wants to go back to the Bay Area for Stephie. It’s that pesky little part of her that’s desperate to go back for Stephie’s mother, to go back for one more hesitant yet lingering touch, that she won’t ever share with anyone else. 

“I never thought I’d live to see you and Azzi willingly playing together again,” Ice says as soon as Paige’s makeup artist leaves the room, “KK and I didn’t even try betting on it, we were that sure it wouldn’t happen. Shit I should have. I totally would have won.”

“Don’t y’all get tired of betting on my life?” Paige asks, rolling her eyes, trying to ignore the first part of what Ice said. 

“Betting on your life has made me hundreds of dollars bro,” Ice says, before a more earnest  look crosses her face, “but genuinely P, are you sure about this? There’s a lot of history there.”

Paige sighs, “it’s not about our history. It’s a basketball decision. And we’re both mature adults who know that. I’m just tryna win. Nothing else.”

“It’s never nothing when it comes to you two.”

“It is this time,” Paige argues adamantly and Ice raises her hands in surrender. 

“I just don’t want another set of teammates to have to deal with y’alls bullshit,” the younger girl teases, but it’s laced with a hint of seriousness that sends a flare of guilt shooting through Paige’s body. 

“Ice-” she begins.

But Ice is quick to change to a lighter subject, “can’t believe Jana’s the one that gets mom and dad back together. I always knew she was the favorite.”

“We didn’t have favorites,” Paige plays along, thankful for Ice and her ability to always keep the tension to a bare minimum. 

“Oh don’t lie. We all know you did,” Ice scoffs and then lets out a chuckle, “and now Azzi’s actually a mom. That’s kinda insane. And you met the kid right?”

“Yeah. Yeah I did,” Paige says and she can’t help the way her entire face breaks into a gleaming smile as her thoughts turn into memories of Stephie. She doesn’t even realize she’s gotten lost in a different world until Ice coughs, an amused grin playing on her lips. 

“You’re so royally fucked Paige,” Ice shakes her head, “the only person I’ve seen you smile that big for before is Azzi.”

“She’s a cute, smart, adorable kid, that’s why I’m smiling,” Paige tries to defend herself. 

“She’s Azzi’s cute, smart, adorable kid,” Ice counters. 

“That has nothing to do with it,” Paige protests again but it rings hollow to her own ears.

“Oh my god I needa call KK and get this bet started. It’s only a matter of time for real,” Ice says, more to herself than to Paige, as she whips out her phone, probably texting KK. 

“A matter of time till what?”

“You’ll find out Paigey,” Ice says gravely with a mocking smile, patting Paige’s head, “all in due time.”

***

The Dallas Wings media room is buzzing, reporters desperate to ask Paige questions and the blonde tries to maintain a smile despite the fact that her heart is lurching in her throat right now. Her opening speech had been short and sweet, parroting basically the same thing that had gone out on her social media the night before; she’d been desperate to just get it out. Generally, Paige is pretty good with the media, having been immersed in the spotlight since basically forever. The attention and how to maneuver it has always come naturally to her so she’s not sure why she feels so unnerved by it all today.  From the back of the media room, Ice sends her a thumbs up and a reassuring grin and Paige lets out a breath, glad to have at least that comforting presence with her. 

“Aidrian Ginsburger with Bleacher Report, Paige, you’ve obviously spent all of your career so far with the Wings, can you tell us a little bit about the impact this organization has had on you?”

Paige smiles at the question, letting her brain skim through pages and pages of fond memories she has of time spent with this team. It might be time to move on but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have plenty of cherished moments. 

“Yeah um- this place has really shaped who I am as a person. Since day one, the front office, obviously it’s a different one to the one I came in with, they did a lot to make sure that I was comfortable. My teammates through the years have been incredible and I wouldn’t be the player I am today without them. And of course the fans you know, they always showed out for the team, for me. Always supported me in anyways and I hope that I was able to give back the love to them that they always gave to me,” she says, suddenly nostalgic for the team that had started it all. 

The next questions are similar in nature and Paige’s answer varies only in words but not substance. She feels herself start to settle into it, now fielding the expected questions about the Wings and Valkyries with an air of confidence. There are a couple questions about Azzi that make her heart thump, but that was to be expected. It’s a pretty brilliant story in the making, two MVPs who used to play on the same college team coming together. Talia had warned Paige in advance that there was no avoiding it. But for the most part the questions have an easy answer about how Azzi’s a brilliant player and she���s excited to play with her old friend again. That is until a familiar hand shoots up and all the tension that had previously dissipated, comes roaring back with a vengeance. 

“Olivia Reynolds with the Dallas Morning News, Paige, as others have said today, you and Azzi Fudd played together at UConn and you were best friends.” Olivia’s eyes glint viciously, “I mean it’s pretty well documented how hard you tried to recruit her to UConn. But despite being best friends, the two of you have been never seen hanging out, outside of games and formal events, unlike your other teammates that is-”

“Is there a point to this?” Paige asks, hands fisting in her lap as she tries to keep herself calm. 

Olivia smiles, sugary sweet, “I was just wondering if maybe there was some tension and how that would affect your on-court chemistry at the Valkyries?”

“There’s no tension,” Paige lies through gritted teeth, “we didn’t hang out because we live far apart. There isn’t much else to it. And even if there was, Azzi and I are professionals. We wouldn’t let anything off the court affect our goal to win.”

“You lived far apart before UConn too, but that didn’t seem to stop you guys. What changed?” Olivia presses.

“Time did. Our lives did. There’s nothing sensational here. It’s just a case of two people drifting apart,” Paige says and the fabrication feels heavy on her tongue. If only it really had been that simple. 

“But clearly not that much,” Olivia says, and Paige glances at the moderator, desperate for an intervention, “there were plenty of fan pictures of the two of you out getting ice cream with Azzi’s daughter. It seems like you’re already fitting into that Bay Area life-”

“I’m not hearing a question at the end of your sentence,” Paige hisses and she can practically already hear the scolding she’s going to get from Talia once her agent gets wind of how this press conference had gone. The entire media cohort is watching the exchange with wide eyes, no doubt questioning whether they were embarrassed or impressed by their colleague. Ice is mouthing something to Paige, probably something along the lines of please keep your shit together, but Paige is steaming. Really, she should have expected this. 

“Well if you’d let me finish,” Olivia snarls, the façade of innocence dropping, “even if the two of you have drifted, as you put it, clearly there’s still a relationship there. How big of a role did Azzi Fudd play in your choice to move to the Valkyries?”

Paige sucks in a deep breath, nails digging into her palm at the question, “Azzi is the best shooting guard in the country. That was her role in my decision to move to the Valkyries. I don’t know what else you’re trying to imply, but I want to play with her because we play well together. That’s it,” she stands up and there’s pin drop silence, “thank you all for coming but we’re done with this press conference. 

***

Paige is seething as she exits the media room, Ice hot on her heels trying to calm her down. The sane part of her knows she should head back to the makeup room or even to her car, instead she finds her feet carrying her in the direction of where she knows Olivia Reynolds will be, reviewing her press conference notes by the coffee machine like she always is. 

“What the actual fuck was that?” Paige spits as she comes to a halt in front of the reporter. 

“I know you think playing basketball is the only job in the world Paige, but that was a reporter doing her job,” Olivia says, her calm and composed voice only furthering Paige’s irritation. 

“Bull-fucking-shit.” Paige sneers, “that wasn’t a reporter out there, that was my ex-wife grilling me like we were back in fucking divorce court.”

Olivia cocks her head, “oh so you do remember who I am to you then?”

“Oliv-”

“Because if you did remember, I’d like to think you’d have the courtesy to at least personally tell me that you were moving to your,” she drops her voice, “ex-girlfriend’s team instead of letting me find out with the rest of the world. You don’t think you owed me that?”

“That’s what this is about?” Paige sighs, “Olivia we’ve been divorced for almost three years now, I don’t owe you-”

“You didn’t owe Azzi anything either,” Olivia whisper-yells, the calm in her voice replaced by the same anger that had tainted the last year of their marriage, “but when we first started dating, you kept us a secret for months. You wouldn’t even tell your fucking teammates cause you were so scared she’d find out,” her eyes drift towards Ice who looks like she wishes she’d made a different decision rather than following Paige out here, “you said she deserved to hear it from you but apparently I don’t-’

“I didn’t mean it like that Olivia. Look, I meant what I said up there. There’s nothing between- ”

“Spare me,” Olivia says, as she stuffs her notepad into her bag, “you can lie to all those other reporters out there about how all of this is a basketball decision. You can even lie to yourself if you want. But you can’t lie to me, not when I spent four years fighting to keep our relationship from getting crushed under whatever it is that Azzi is to you.”

***

It doesn’t matter how far Paige burrows her head into her pillows, she can’t seem to stop herself from hearing Olivia’s words reverberating through her ears. The two of them had done well at co-existing in their social circles after the divorce had been finalized. While no one could quite call them friends, they’d done a good job at being friendly, being able to converse and share an occasional drink when in their combined friend group. And if Paige is honest, she knows she’s fucked up, knows she probably did owe Olivia a call. But calling Olivia would have meant calling someone who would inevitably make Paige face the truth, just like she had today. The truth that, even with the deal Talia had concocted with the Liberty hanging in the background like a dark presence, the move to the Valkyries was about a lot more than just basketball for Paige. 

She’s so entrenched in her thought that she doesn’t bother checking who it is when the facetime rings, irritation seeping into her voice as she answers it, face still buried in her pillows, “WHAT?”

“Miss Buecks?” a tiny voice comes through the phone and for a second, Paige thinks she must be dreaming, until she finally lifts her head to look at her phone, and Stephie’s small face lights up the whole screen. And it’s like she can feel little hands on her shoulders, slowly unknotting her tightened muscles. 

“Stephie,” she breathes out, a sudden sense of serene calm washing over her previously tense body. 

“Hi Miss Buecks,” Stephie says happily before she squints at the screen, “you sleep weird.”

Paige laughs, “and why’s that?”

“You’re not wearing pajamas and it’s only seven. ‘Dults don’t sleep at seven,” Stephie says matter-of-factly. 

“It’s actually nine here,” Paige says, a little surprised by the time; she hadn’t realized she'd been moping in her bed for that long. Ice had forced her to get lunch together, not wanting to leave Paige alone after the encounter with Olivia. Once she’d finally gotten back to her apartment, Paige had flopped on her bed, taking out her frustrations on her poor pillow. 

“That’s not poss-ble,” Stephie scrunches her face, “Mama’s phone says it’s seven.”

“It’s seven in California, it’s nine in Texas,” Paige tries to explain though by the way Stephie’s looking at her, she thinks she’s probably just confusing the girl more, “how’d you figure out how to call me babe?”

Stephie gives her an exasperated look, “Miss Buecks I’m five. I know how to use facetime.”

“And does your Mama know you're facetiming me?” Paige asks, eyebrows raised.

“She’s in the shower,” Stephie whispers, grinning sheepishly. 

As if on cue, Azzi appears on the corner of the screen and Paige feels her mouth run dry. The darker skinned woman is clad in a light pink fluffy bathrobe that ends right above her knees, giving Paige the perfect view of her long, toned legs that seem to shimmer despite the shitty quality of the facetime. Rivulets of water cling to her neck, delicately cascading down the valley of her breasts before disappearing from sight. And Paige must be dehydrated because never has she wanted to taste a drop of liquid more than she does right now. 

“Stephie,” Azzi groans, as she walks towards the phone and Paige gulps, heart beating faster with every step the other woman takes, everything about her becoming clearer and clearer, “what did I say about using my phone.”

“Only in em-a-gencies,” Stephie recites, “but Mama I had an em-a-gency.”

Azzi tilts her head, eyebrows raised as she gives her daughter a knowing look, “and what was your emergency?”

“I really, really, really, this much” Stephie stretches out her hands as far as they’ll go,  really, really, really, miss Miss Buecks.”

Paige feels her heart flutter. Stephie’s words feel like a hand carefully pulling her out from under the pile of stress she’d been buried under the whole day. It’s like the little girl is pushing away the rubble pressing against her lungs, turning the rocks into dust with a light touch and Paige feels like she can finally breathe. 

“Sounds like a pretty big emergency to me,” she says, relishing the way Stephie’s face lights up at the admission, “cause I really, really, really miss you too Steph.”

“See Mama,” Stephie says, placing the phone against a wall so can place her hands on her hips and look up at Azzi with a pleased smirk. 

Azzi rolls her eyes before glaring at Paige, “you’re a bad influence on her.”

“I’m the best influence on her,” Paige argues, sending Stephie a conspiratorial wink, “just you wait Az, I’mma teach her all the good things.”

Something unreadable flashes across Azzi’s face before she’s back to looking at Paige with an unimpressed arched eyebrow, “I am not letting you corrupt my daughter Paige Bueckers.”

“We’ll see,” Paige says slowly and Azzi shakes her head before turning to Stephie. 

“Alright Stephie bean time to go brush your teeth. It’s almost bedtime babes,” she says with a stern look 

“But Mama-”

“No arguing, you have school tomorrow missy,” Azzi reminds the little girl and Paige can’t help but marvel at the mother that Azzi’s become. And it makes her heart ache for the fantasies she’d dreamed of when she was in her early twenties. She’d always known Azzi would be a great mother; Paige had just naively thought she’d be there alongside her too. 

“Can Miss Buecks stay on the phone till I fall asleep?” Stephie asks, peering up at Azzi with big doe eyes, “please Mama pleeeease.”

“I’m sure Miss Buecks has other things-”

“I don’t,” Paige cuts in far too enthusiastically, clearing her throat to get back some semblance of restraint as both mother and daughter turn to look at each other, “I don’t have anything to do tonight so I can stay till you fall asleep Stephie.”

“YAYY,” Stephie cheers enthusiastically while Azzi studies her with a weary look, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and then you can read me, my story Mama.”

With that, the little girl runs in the direction of what Paige can only assume is the bathroom, skipping with childlike joy as she sing-songs about something Paige can’t quite make out. 

“You know you don’t have to say yes to everything she asks right?” Azzi says slowly as she grabs her phone and sits on the couch. 

Paige shrugs, “I have time to stay.”

“Do you?” Azzi asks skeptically, “because from what I heard the Wings are having a little farewell party tonight, for you.”

Paige narrows her eyes, “and how exactly did you hear that?”

“I have connections.”

“You talked to Ice.”

“I talked to Ice,” Azzi concedes, “and I’m pretty sure you’re already an hour or so late for it.”

“Exactly. I’m already an hour late so why bother,” Paige says, sitting up so she can rest head against her headboard, “why were you talking to Ice?”

“I can’t talk to my friend?” Azzi asks slowly. 

“Of course you can but why specifically today?” Paige presses 

Azzi bites her lip, “I um- I watched your press conference today. You uh-” she averts her gaze, “you seemed really stressed at the end and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

A soft grin upturns Paige’s lips before she can stop it, “were you worried for me Fudd?”

“That’s not-” Azzi groans, “shut up.”

Paige smirks, “you were worried for me.”

“I was concerned for my future teammate," Azzi huffs, “besides,” her face hardens, “she was way out of line.”

Paige sighs at the implied mention of Olivia, “maybe but maybe I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t,” Azzi protests and that oh so familiar protective tone in her voice carves itself into every crevice of Paige’s heart, “no one deserves to be put on the spot like that. She was being unethical trying to dig into your personal life like that.”

“This is nice,” Paige says softly, unable to help herself. 

“What is?” 

“Seeing you get all defensive over me. It's nice to see you still care. I didn’t know if you still did.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second, gnawing at her bottom lip as she looks at Paige, “I’ve always cared Paige. And-” she hesitates as the tightrope beneath them wavers, “I’m always gonna care.”

There’s years worth of unsaid words lingering in the silence between them as they breach some unspoken rule they’d both inadvertently agreed to. And they both know that they shouldn’t be saying things like this to each other, that they’re teetering on the edge of falling into an abyss that has nothing but destruction at the bottom. But Azzi’s words feel like sunshine, like heat waves across her skin and Paige is so tired of feeling cold. 

Before either of them can say another word, Stephie comes back into the room, crawling into Azzi’s lap.

“I’m back,” she beams, completely unaware of the way the two adults are scrambling to act normal around her. 

“Here baby,” Azzi hands the phone to Stephie, “take Miss Buecks to your room. Mama’s gonna go change and then she’ll come read to you okay?”

“‘Kay Mama,” Stephie complies, pressing a soft kiss to Azzi’s cheek before running towards her room. For a second Paige’s screen is blurred in motion until Stephie fixes her again and Paige catches a glimpse of Stephie’s room, specifically the walls that are painted the perfect shade of Valkyrie purple. 

“I love your walls Stephie,” she compliments.

“They’re pu-ple,” Stephie exclaims, “that’s my favorite color.”

“First the ice-cream, now the color, you’re stealing all of my favorites kid,” Paige teases but she’s secretly pleased by this revelation. It’s dangerous how fast Stephie’s starting to whittle down Paige’s walls and build herself a permanent shelf in Paige’s cabinet of my people. 

“Can I tell you a secret Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, bringing her lips closer to the phone. 

Paige smiles, “of course you can.”

“I think Mama misses you too,” Stephie says softly and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat, “I heard her tell Nanna on the phone.”

“Can I tell you a secret Stephie?” Paige lowers her voice, leaning into her phone. 

“‘Course you can Miss Buecks.”

Paige swallows as the admission falls from her lips, “I really miss your Mama too.”

I miss her always and I think I’ll miss her forever. 

“What are you the two of you whispering about,” Azzi’s voice cuts in as she tucks herself next to Stephie, a children’s book in her hand. 

“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says immediately, winking at Paige through the phone. 

“Yeah,” Paige echoes, ignoring her erratic heartbeat, “nothing Azzi.”

Azzi looks between the both of them, clearly aware she’s being left out of something, but doesn’t push further. Instead she flips open the book, pulls Stephie closer into her arms and starts reading. If anyone were to ask Paige later, she wouldn’t have the faintest idea about a single word in that damn book. Because as Azzi’s soothing voice begins to lull Stephie to sleep, and the younger girl, despite her yawns, holds the phone up so the blonde can be included in every second of it, Paige feels herself being pulled into a dream she has no right to dream. She dreams of being in Stephie’s purple bedroom. She dreams of her and Azzi lying against Stephie’s lilac bedspread, their hands entwined in the middle over Stephie’s little body. She dreams of a forever that she’d long forsaken.

[nisuna]

This is a very old request I wrote, but it has probably been deleted, so I had to write it again. This is honestly just pure angst and manipulation. Quite horrible and heart-wrenching, so:

⚠️ Heavy Trigger Warning on this one -forced s*x and other mature themes- proceed at your own risk⚠️

Sukuna x protective!big sister!reader

TW: forced s*x, mating press, name calling, manipulation, big sister!reader protecting Yuji, mature

<3masterlist<3

-------------------Strictly 18+ MDNI------------------

"Let's make a binding vow."

"What?", you must've misheard. "Why in the hell should I?", you scoffed at the curse currently using your little brother's body.

"Chill out, sweetheart, that's not a good look on you. You should smile more.", he dared to grin at you.

"Just spit it out already."

"Alright, alright, geez. You always talk about wanting to help the brat. I'm giving you an opportunity of a lifetime."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Let me have some fun with you."

"What the hell? Definitely not. How would that even help my brother?!"

"Let me finish. Let me have my way with you and in exchange, I'll leave the brat alone whenever you're around."

You felt insane that you were even considering such a ridiculous offer, but you were getting desperate. This has been going on for way too long.

"Why do you even want that? And why should I trust you?"

"Because I'm dying of boredom sitting in that brat's head all day every day. And as I said, it's a binding vow, I'm just as fucked fucked as you will be if I dare break it.", he put his hands up in the air.

"Okay, let's say I trust you. What if he wakes up in the middle of it? You always watch everything that happens. I do not want him to see me like that."

"I will wipe his memory, no problem."

Shit, he always has an answer for everything.

"Just say the word and we can start, doll.", he pressed on when he saw you chewing on your bottom lip, deep in thought.

"Fuck off", you really didn't want to do this, but it was for your brother. If there was a way for you to linder his pain, no matter how humiliating, you were willing to do it. So you swallowed your pride and started to lift your shirt over your head. "Don't just stand there, let's get this over with."

"Atta girl.", he grinned and rid himself of your brother's clothes. You felt sick to your stomach.

--------

He's been pounding away at you for what felt like forever and you cursed yourself that it was starting to feel good. He had your legs swung over his broad shoulders and you were folded in half in a tight mating press. You were trying to keep it down, but all of your pent-up feelings were begging to be released.

"Best pussy I've had in centuries, curses don't compare to real humans. Goddamn if you keep squeezing me like that I will bust in no time."

"Oho, the mighty King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna-sama brought to his knees by a mortal pussy how laughable, ah-" your meager attempt at mocking him only earned you a harsh slap to your thigh.

"Shut it or I'll wake the brat up."

"You said you wouldn't! You can't!!", you tried to resist only to have your knees pressed tighter to your chest.

"I said I would wipe his memory after, if anything happened. I can wake him up right now and let him experience the whole thing if you don't shut up. Just look pretty and take it like the whore you are."

Once again, you swallowed your pride and gave him a nod. You're doing this for him. It's going to be worth it in the end. He's suffered far worse than you.

"Good girl."

-----

With the last ounce of mercy he actually had left in his body, he made you cum as well before filling you up.

As soon as he was done he got up and was decent enough to get Yuji dressed while you were trying your best to neaten up your dishevelled self. It was revolting feeling the sticky substance trickle down your legs as you pulled up your pants.

"You definitely made it worth my while. Alright, see you never, sweetheart.", he snarled the nickname before finally leaving your brother's body.

What you weren't prepared for was having to catch Yuji before he fell down face first on the floor.

"Fucking asshole", you mumbled while wiping your nose and trying to gently wake your brother up. You ever subconsciously holding your breath until you saw his eyelids flutter open. He looked so confused, but he wasn't in any pain as he looked up at your soft smile. His calm state didn't last long as soon as he saw your dishevelled hair and crooked clothes.

"Oh my god he was out wasn't he goddamn it! Are you okay?? What did he do to you? I swear I'm going to kill him, I'm going to fucking kill him if he hurt you-"

"Shh, it's alright he didn't do anything. We.. we just talked. Nee-chan talked to him and he will leave you alone from now on whenever I'm around. Isn't this great? We can always be together now. Nee-chan will never leave you alone ever again. It's going to be alright, everything will be alright now, Yuji! So please don't ask any more questions, I handled everything. Don't you worry your pretty little head, I got this.", you smiled and pulled his stiff body in a tight embrace, strategically hiding your face.

"Okay, I trust you, Nee-chan. You would never lie to me, right?", he finally relaxed in your hold and hugged you back just as tightly.

"Right. Never.", you felt your heart sink in your chest as you choked up the words and your eyes stung with tears that were threatening to spill. So you just hugged him tighter and prayed he wouldn't notice anything else.

You are a good older sister and you love your younger brother Yuji more than anything. And that is exactly why you will be taking this secret to the grave.

-----

I apologise 🥲

[storiesforallfandoms]

icdiwabh ~ joseph quinn

word count: 3688

request?: no

description: after finding out that her recently broken up with ex is already in a new relationship, she puts on a happy face for the public. but she can't do the same with him

pairing: joseph quinn x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angsty angst, rpf, use of y/n

based on this song

masterlist (one, two, three)

To give her credit, my best friend and guitarist, Chloe, tried her best to keep me from looking at my phone before our show. And it was working. I didn't even think anything of it, just that we were goofing off before a show as usual.

And then my phone chimed with a text from my mom. She always sent me a good luck text before a show. I unlocked my phone to respond, then saw that my social media notifications were blowing up more than usual.

I shouldn't have looked, but you know what they say about curiosity and the cat.

I opened Twitter to see I was being mentioned a lot. Mainly in replies to other tweets, and most of the tweets were along the lines of, "What happened to @(Y/U/N)?" I clicked on one to see what that context was, and was brought to a tweet from Pop Crave.

"Joseph Quinn photographed on a date with Doja Cat," followed by various photos of my ex-boyfriend getting cozy with another woman.

I felt my heart drop and break into millions of pieces.

I know what you're thinking: why would seeing my ex moving on hurt so much? It's not like we were together. We were both free to see whoever we wanted now. But there were a few reasons this news was upsetting; for one, we had only broken up three months ago, which apparently is around the time when these pictures were taken. Second, Joseph had broken up with me due to the fact that I was a singer, which meant we didn't get to spend as much time together as either of us would've wanted. I understood at the time. I mean, of course the break up still hurt, but I kind of knew it was coming when things between us had felt different the last month or so of our relationship.

Then there was the biggest reason: Doja was the woman he told me not to worry about.

I am not joking.

Joseph and I were together when the whole Doja versus Noah stuff happened online. We both laughed about it at the time, and i had jokingly asked Joseph, "Should I worry about you getting stolen away by Doja Cat?" He had wrapped me in his arms, kissed me, and said of course not.

Obviously, that had changed.

Chloe found me just as the tears started to fall. She was quick to hug me and whisper comforting words.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," she said. "But we have to get to the stage."

Performing was the last thing on my mind, but I had thousands of fans waiting for me. I couldn't let them down just because I was heartbroken.

I followed Chloe to take my place. I wiped the tears from my eyes, hoping my face wasn't too red or puffy. Our backstage crew passed me my microphone as the countdown for the show to start started in my earpiece. I took a deep, calming breath, pushing everything out of my mind. As the blinding stage lights hit me, I put on my best show smile.

~~~~~~

The next few weeks were tough. I had to go on a full social media hiatus, meaning I deleted all social media apps from my phone to keep myself from seeing any more updates on Joseph and Doja. Chloe took up posting on my accounts so no one suspected anything. We had already decided the best course of action was to ignore the questions and comments, and to pretend like the news didn't even hurt me.

But it did. It hurt me more than any words could ever describe. Having to go on stage two to three nights a week and sing the love songs I wrote about him made it even harder. I struggled to keep it together on stage sometimes. I saved the emotions for when I'd get back to the hotel or the tour bus. Then I'd be able to cry until my eyes hurt and were too heavy to stay awake.

Some nights were sleepless, though. On those nights, I'd usually just lay awake or try to use one of the streaming services on my phone to distract myself. One night, I found myself too hungry to be distracted. My stomach was rumbling enough that I could hardly hear the show I was watching. After some quick Googling, I found a 24 hour diner that seemed like it would be slow enough for me to go without being recgonized.

I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a baggy hoodie with the hood up to cover my face. I put my phone and my hotel room key in my pocket, and left to make my way to the diner.

As I expected, there weren't many people there. Maybe one table with two young ladies sat there, plus the workers. I kept my hood up anyways as I ordered, just in case. The host who took my order did look at me like he may have known who I was, but he didn't say anything.

My plan was to get my food and take it back to the hotel to eat it. But that plan was quickly changed when a familiar British voice said, "(Y/N)?"

I froze. There was no way he was actually here. It had to be a figment of my imagination. A hallucination made up by my misery over the breakup and his quick moving on.

But when I looked up, there he was. He was also in a hoodie and sweatpants, but was doing less to hide his identity. Actually, nothing to hide his identity. I couldn't help but glance around to make sure no one was looking at us or there was no paparazzi that had followed him and started snapping photos.

"How did you know it was me?" I asked, then realized it was a stupid question and winced at myself.

"That's...um...my hoodie."

I looked down and realized that he was right. I hadn't even noticed that I had it, even when I packed it for the tour.

"I was wondering where it went," he said with a little smile.

"Here it is," I said, lamely flourishing my hands. "I'd offer to give it back, but I'm not wearing anything underneath."

I saw him swallow at my comment. I thought I saw a tinge of pink creeping onto his cheeks, but I figured it must've been the lighting or something. There was no way I could still make him blush when he obviously had no feelings for me anymore.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I'm in town shooting the Fantastic Four movie," he explained. "I just finished a late shoot, so I stopped in for something to eat. What are you doing here?"

"I had a show tonight. I couldn't sleep, and I'm hungry. So..." I did my lame flourish again.

"Oh yes. The post-show adrenaline."

I ground my teeth to keep from saying anything. The weeks of sadness and misery suddenly vanished and became anger. I was angry at him for reminding me that he knew me so well. That we had shared memories on sleepless nights like this. I was also angry that he didn't think our breakup and his quick moving on would be the cause of my sleeplessness. Did he think I didn't know? Or just that I'd be okay with him and his new girlfriend mere weeks after our two year long relationship ended?

I just shrugged in response.

My order was called and I quickly grabbed it. I turned to give Joseph a wave as a goodbye. I needed to get out of there and get back to my hotel room to wallow in my dispair.

But it seemed Joseph had other plans, as he stopped me before I could leave. "Do you want to sit? Maybe...catch up?"

"Is that a good idea?" I asked.

"I don't see why it wouldn't be."

"You don't want your new girlfriend to see paparazzi photos of you with your ex."

There, it was finally out. No more tiptoeing around the topic.

It seemed to have its desired effect as Joseph was now awkwardly shuffling. He rubbed the back of his neck, which was now undoubtably turning pink. "So, you've heard."

"Of course I heard!" I snapped. I glanced around again, realizing I was raising my voice. "Your pictures are everywhere, and I'm being tagged in them cause we never told everyone we had broken up."

"I'm sorry you had to find out that way."

I scoffed. "How else was I going to find out? Were you going to call me and tell me you were dating the girl you said wasn't a threat to our relationship?"

He sighed. Before he could say anything else, they called that another order was ready, and evidently it was his. It was also packed in a to go bag, so he clearly had no intentions of staying either. With any luck, he'd drop this stupid idea of sitting down for a "catch up" and let me leave to deal with all the emptions I was feeling.

But of course, luck was not on my side.

Joseph grabbed his food and turned back to me. "Just...sit with me for 15 minutes at least. Let me explain."

Even though I very much wanted an explanation, I said, "You don't have to explain anything."

"Just...please, (Y/N)."

And that's how I found myself sat in a booth that was tucked away, in the middle of the night with my ex-boyfriend.

It was a bad idea, and I knew that. Besides the fact that I definitely should not be sitting down with the ex that I had been in shambles over for weeks, it was also a bad idea publicity wise. Joseph wasn't trying to hide himself. Anyone could see us and snap a picture, or call paparazzi to make a quick buck. Even with me trying to hide myself, someone would eventually put the pieces together to realize it was me. Then we'd have a whole new shit show on our hands.

I opened my food and started to eat. There was no point in letting it go cold and completely ruin my night. Joseph wasn't as quick to do the same. He was watching me. When I realized he wasn't eating, I made a gesture for him to start talking.

"Is there anything specific you want to know?" he asked.

Well, that was a stupid question. There was a lot I wanted to know. So much so that I knew we'd be here way longer than 15 minutes if I asked it all.

I decided to ask him the most prominent question on my mind: "Did you leave me for her?"

He seemed stunned by my question. "No! No, of course I didn't. Why would you think that?"

I gave him a look. "Come on, Joseph. We both know why I'd think that."

He shuffled in his seat. "It's not like that."

"Then explain it. That's the whole reason I'm sat here."

So he did. He told me he met Doja (he used her real name, which made my stomach churn) at her concert. He had gone with a few friends, and when she found out he was there she brought them backstage to meet her. He swore it was all casual at first, that they were just friendly and were making light of the situation between her and Noah. When things started changing, he swore it was just a rebound thing.

"I never meant for it to become anything more," he insisted. "I was still so hurt. I just wanted something that would take my mind off of the pain."

I couldn't hold back the scoff that escaped my lips. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," I said. "I'm just so sorry to hear that you were hurting."

"What, you don't think our breakup was hard for me?"

"Weirdly enough, no, I didn't think you took things hard when you dumped me."

Joseph sighed. "It wasn't - "

"And you know what else?" I cut him off. "You told me you found it hard for us to be together because of our professions. And, honestly, I understood! If you weren't away filming, I was away touring. If you weren't doing press for a movie or show, I was doing press for an album. It wasn't easy, and while I was willing to go through those strifes for us, I did understand how it could be too difficult for you. But then you turned around, not even a month after you dumped me, and started dating another singer."

He was quiet. He couldn't even meet my eye.

I felt a lump forming in my throat, and my voice cracked as I said, "If you didn't love me anymore, you could've just said that."

He looked up at me quickly. "That's not - "

He was cut off again. Not by me this time, but by his phone. Someone was calling him. When I looked at the screen, I saw her name. It felt like a knife directly through my heart.

I packed my food and stood. Joseph looked like he was going to say something, but I put a hand up to stop him. "Answer your girlfriend, Joseph."

He didn't try to stop me when I left this time.

~~~~~~

As I expected, photos of Joseph and I got out. I didn't know to what extent as I still wasn't back on social media. My manager confronted me about it and I explained what had happened. She wasn't upset as I wasn't the one who hadn't been concealing my identity, and she agreed that the best course of action was just to ignore everything until it blew over.

Another two months passed and the tour finally ended. It became easier to perform as the time went on. Not completely easy, and I did have a night or two where I slipped up and got emotional on stage, but eventually I was able to put the meanings of my songs aside and just performed them for my fans. I knew some nights weren't as great as others, but I got through it, and finally I was going to have a break.

Chloe reluctantly agreed to let me have my social media back. I was still hurting a little, but I told her I couldn't isolate myself forever. It just wasn't healthy. Besides, I would need something to keep me occupied while I was home, besides just watching mind numbing reality TV. She finally relented when I told her she could watch me block the words "Joseph Quinn" and "Doja Cat" on all social media so that I wouldn't have to see any posts about them.

I was honestly surprised to find that I didn't want to look up anything to do with them. For a long time, the desire to know about their relationship was eating away at me. There were so many specifics I felt like I needed to know, but I eventually realized that I was just going to hurt myself further if I looked into them. Of course, I didn't completely stop thinking about Joseph. I didn't expect to. We had been together for two years, almost moved in with one another. I thought we were going to get married. You don't just let that go easily. But at least it was getting a little easier to live in a world where he was no longer mine.

On one particularly nice day, I decided to go out on the balcony to read. It was one of those fall days where the sun was out and there was a little heat coming from it, but not enough that it was unbearable. A slight breeze would blow through every so often, just cool enough to keep it tolerable outside. I was laid back in one of my deck chairs, engrossed in my book to a point that I hadn't heard someone approaching.

"Must be an interesting novel."

I jumped at the sound of a voice coming from my driveway below. I bookmarked my page and sat up to see the last person I wanted to be around. "What are you doing here, Joseph?"

"I just got back from filming."

"Good for you."

"I...I was hoping you were home."

"Well, you see that I am. Don't let the gate hit you on the way out."

"(Y/N), can we just talk?"

I stood from my seat and leaned over the balcony railing to look at him. "We said all there was to say in that diner months ago. There's nothing else to be talked about. Besides, do you want more pictures of us to come out? I'm sure Doja wouldn't be happy to see her man making a personal visit to his ex's place."

"We broke up!"

I stopped. "What?"

"Last month. It was all over social media, or so Lupita tells me." He tilted his head. "You didn't hear?"

"I-I blocked yours and Doja's names on social media so I wouldn't have to see any tweets or posts about you."

Joseph looked at me for a moment before barking out a laugh. I couldn't help but put a hand over my face as I laughed as well. Of course, by trying to block him out completely, I had totally missed the one thing I would've wanted to see.

I was a bit reluctant, but eventually I invited Joseph to come up. He knew his way through my place, he had been there enough times. I sat back down on my deck chair and pulled another one closer to me, as he appeared in the glass doorway. He sat down next to me and memories of all the times we had been out here flooded back to me.

"I wasn't done talking that night in the diner," he said. "I still had so much to say, and I have even more to say now."

"I didn't want to hear it," I admitted. "In my mind, after hearing how you and Doja got together, it just made more sense if you had broken up with me because you didn't love me anymore."

He shook his head. "It wasn't that at all. I never stopped loving you."

I was itching to ask him if that meant he still loved me now, but instead I said, "Then why?"

"I broke up with you because I loved you so much," he said. "Because loving you but not getting to spend time with you hurt so much, and I knew there was no way around that. When I started getting more job offers I knew things were just going to get so much busier for me, and that our already very short time together was going to dwindle down more and more, and I hated the thought of that."

"I would've taken a break," I told him.

"I couldn't ask you to do that. You love making music and performing. I could never ask you to stop doing that, or to change that. I thought the best thing for you would be if you could find someone who wasn't as busy, and who'd be able to go on tour with you and be at all your shows. Someone who wouldn't be in a different time zone basically 11 months out of a year and only be able to call you for an hour max every night."

"But what if that's not what I want?" I asked. "Yes, it was hard not to get to see you all the time, but I never would've traded that for anything else. I was so proud of you for all those roles you were getting, and even if I only got to talk to you for a few minutes, I loved getting to hear what you were doing. Because you were achieving your dream, and I got to be there to experience it. I don't want someone who can be with me all the time, I want you."

I hadn't noticed that we were both sat on the edge of our chairs. We were so close we were almost touching. I could smell the familiar scent of his cologne and it was making my heart skip a few beats.

"I should've talked to you instead of deciding just to end things," he said, his voice soft and quiet.

"You should've," I agreed. "And then if you were going to rebound, you shouldn't have done it with the girl you told me not to worry about."

He awkwardly chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, not my finest moment."

I sat back in my chair, although I didn't want to. I wanted to keep being this close to him, or maybe to get closer. "So why did you two breakup anyways?"

"She was nice and all, but she wasn't you."

We sat in silence, letting his words sink in. He was looking at me, almost like he was waiting. Maybe I was waiting, too, to see where that confession was supposed to go. After a few moments, my body moved before my mind could comprehend what was happening. I quickly leaned forward, nearly putting myself on Joseph's lap, and started kissing him. He kissed me back immediately, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me the rest of the way onto his lap.

"I missed you," he mumbled against my lips.

"I missed you too," I admitted. I pulled away to add, "But don't think you're completely off the hook. You did still hurt me, you know."

"I know I did. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for it if I have to."

I smiled. "I think I like the sound of that."

He smiled back at me and pulled me back in for another kiss. Eventually, my book was abandoned on the balcony, and the large blinds were closed to keep from anyone being able to see the reunion happening inside.

[rubylace]

PART 4. WHAT WE DON'T SAY

m.list

pairing: musician!jay x reader (f)  

genre: coming-of-age, new adult, personal growth, sexual tension, fams dynamic, lovehate

wordcount: 19k

nb: I took a little bit from jay's enlog

+a/n: [re-up] ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT *sad brutally* luckily I had the notes

You wanted to go backwards, back in time and hug him. Never let him go. Still reeling from his admission, you dug your nails into the back of the couch and said, “I don’t want us to be virtual strangers. You still mean so much to me. The fact that you’re angry at me won’t change that.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want us to try to be friends again. I want us to be able to sit in the same room and talk to each other, maybe have a few laughs. We’re gonna always own this house together in any case. Someday, we’ll be bringing children here. We need to get along.”

“I'm not gonna have children,” he said emphatically.

The fact that Yunjin had confided in you about Jay’s not wanting kids had skipped your mind.

“She told me.”

“She did, did she? What else did you talk about? My d*ck size? You tell her you got a good look at it?”

You chose not to entertain the quip and stayed with the subject at hand. “Why don’t you want children, Jay?”

“You of all people should understand that it’s asinine to bring a child into this world if you’re not 100% sure of your capabilities. My parents are a prime example of people who should have never procreated.”

“You’re not your parents.”

“No, but I’m a fvcked-up product of their mistakes, and I’m not gonna repeat history.”

It made you immensely sad that he felt that way. Thinking back to how protective he always was of you, you knew Jay would make an amazing father. He just couldn’t see that. Knowing that you had promised yoj wouldn’t rehash the past beyond tonight, an urgent need to get more off your chest overtook you.

“I beg to differ. I think that you are so much stronger as a person because you had to grow up a lot quicker than kids who were coddled and handed everything easily. You’ve given to others what your parents neglected to give you. I’ll never forget how you always managed to make me laugh even when it seemed impossible, how you always knew exactly what I needed, how you always protected me. Those are the qualities that would make someone a good parent. And whether you have children or not, you are an amazing human being. Not only that, your musical talent completely blows me away. It makes me so sad to think of everything that I missed because of my stupidity and fear. I know we’ve both changed somewhat, but I still see all the good in you even when you are trying so hard to hide behind a mask.”

Your eyes started to water, and a teardrop fell. “I miss you, Jay.” It felt like everything had just come pouring out of you before you could think about the consequences of being so open about your feelings.

He startled you when he reached over and swiped a teardrop from your cheek with his thumb, prompting you to close your eyes. His touch felt so good. “I think we’ve talked enough for tonight,” he said.

Nodding, you said, “Okay.”

He lifted himself off the couch and turned off the television. “Come on. Let’s get some air.”

You followed his lead out the front door and down to the beach. You walked in silence for what seemed like an eternity. The night was still except for the sound of the waves crashing. The ocean breeze was calming, and as strange as it was, the silence between us seemed like a therapeutic exorcism of some kind.

It felt as though a huge weight had been lifted because you’d gotten to say what you wanted to. Even though there wasn’t really a clear conclusion to our conflict, it was more closure than you’d ever had with him.

The sound of Jay’s phone interrupted the quiet of your walk. He picked it up. “Hey.”

“Everything is good?”

“That’s great. It’s really happening. What are you doin?”

“Just taking a walk.”

You found it interesting that he didn’t mention he was with you.

“Okay. I love you.”

“Alright. Bye.” After he hung up, you looked at him. “How’s Yunjin?”

“She’s good. She’s going to get to perform tomorrow night because the lead’s grandfather died.”

“Wow. That’s amazing. Well, not that the grandfather died.”

“Yeah. I got that.”

Not another word was spoken until you started to approach the house. Jay pointed to something in the distance. “Do you see that?”

“Where?”

The next thing you knew you felt weightless. Jay had lifted you off your feet and was running toward the shore. Judging from his laughter, there was nothing to point out he’d just been trying to distract you long enough to snatch you up.

He dumped your fully clothed body into the ocean. Salty water ran down your throat and up your nose. Jay immediately ran back to the sand, leaving you to wade through the water after him. He’d planted himself on the sand and was still laughing. He’d taken off his shirt which had gotten wet, and his pants were soaked.

“Do you feel better now?” you huffed.

“A little.” He chuckled. “Actually a lot.”

“Well, good. I’m glad for you,” you said, wringing out your dress.

He stood up. “Let me.” Jay surprised you when he stood behind you and twisted your long hair to help get the water out.

His hands lingered for a few seconds, causing your ribs to tingle. You turned around to distract from it and was met by his brown eyes staring into yours. They were glowing in the reflection of the light coming from your house. He looked heartbreakingly handsome.

Fumbling your words a bit, you said, “Um.. thank you. Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be thanking you, because you caused it.”

“It was a long time coming. I’d wanted to throw you in the water since the first day I got here.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Really.” He smiled mischievously.

“By the way, why are you still here?”

He squinted. “What do you mean?”

“You could have easily gone back to NY with her. You know that.”

“Are you implying something?”

“I’m not implying anything. I just know that you’ve been using the Yeonjun’s gig as the reason, and I find that hard to believe.”

“What do you want to hear, Y/n? That I’m here because of you?”

“No, I don’t know. I..”

“I don’t know why I’m here. Alright? That’s the truth. It just didn’t feel like it was time to leave.”

“Fair enough.”

“Are you done interrogating me for one night, pain in my ass?”

“Yes.” you smiled. “‘Payne in my ass’” was another name he used to call you. It was a play o the last name, Payne.

“Good.”

“For the record, I’m really glad you stayed.”

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes then said, “Trying to hate you is so exhausting.”

“So, stop trying.”

Your teeth started to chatter, it was getting chilly out.

“We’d better go inside,” he said.

Following him to the house, you couldn’t help thinking that the cold air outside had nothing on the warm feeling inside of me from having reconnected with him tonight.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Starving, actually.”

“Go change. I’ll make dinner.”

“Really?”

“Well, we gotta eat, don’t we?”

“Yeah. I guess we do. I’ll be back.” You smiled all the way to your room, giddy from the idea of him cooking for you.

When you returned with a dry outfit, your heart fluttered at the sight of Jay standing at the stove. He was still shirtless and wearing his gray beanie while frying some vegetables in a pan.

You cleared your throat. “Smells good. What are you making?”

“Just a teriyaki stir fry with rice seeing as though you have a limited palate. When the hell did you stop eating red meat anyway? You used to be a carnivore.”

He must have remembered how much we enjoyed Burger Barn together in the old days.

“One day, I just woke up and thought about how bizarre it was to be eating a cow. It made no sense. And I just stopped cold turkey.”

“Seriously? That’s kind of ridiculous.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve always been a little bizarre, Y/n. I can’t say that surprises me.”

You winked. “That’s why you love me.” You’d meant it to come out facetiously but immediately regretted using the word love given his prior admission.

When he didn’t respond, you panicked and diarrheal of the mouth developed. “I didn’t mean that you still love me. I was just joking.”

He held out his palm. “Stop while you’re ahead. I knew what you meant.”

You pursed your lips, trying to think of a quick change of subject. “Do you think you’ll go back to playing at Yeonjun’s tomorrow night?”

“Probably.”

“Good. I’m really looking forward to hearing you perform again.”

He grabbed two plates and emptied the contents of the pan onto each of them and slid mine across the counter. “Here.”

“Thank you. This smells delicious.”

The dish he’d made was actually very tasty. He’d added sesame seeds and water chestnuts. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“Self-taught. I’ve been cooking for myself for years.”

“Where are your parents now?”

“I thought we were done talking about this stuff.”

“Sorry. You’re right.”

Despite his having said that, he looked up from his plate and answered your question anyway. “My mother moved back to Cincinnati when I was in college. They sold the house. My father lives in.. I don't know, he likes to work abroad.”

“How long after I left did things continue between my mother and him?”

“About a year. My mother found out about what they were doing under our roof and kicked him out. He lived with Helen for a while before things went sour between them.”

“He moved in with her?”

“Yeah.”

You couldn’t believe it.

“My mother kept that from me then. That explains why Ameryn stopped speaking to her around that time. She was mortified by their actions.”

“I spent a lot of time over there with your grandmother before I moved away. She was the only person who kept me sane.”

“Did you ever talk about me to her?”

“She tried to get me to, but I wouldn’t.”

“Do you think she left us both this house because she knew it would force us to face each other?”

“I honestly don’t know, Y/n.”

“I think she did.”

“I had no intention of coming here and trying to make amends with you.”

“No, really? I didn’t catch on.” When he cracked a slight smile, you asked, “Do you still feel the same?”

“Things don’t change overnight. We talked. That’s not gonna erase years of shit that happened. We’re not going to just be able to magically be best friends again.”

“I never expected that.”

Playing with the remnants of your food, you thought long and hard before speaking again. “I’m just gonna say one last thing. And then I promise I won’t harp on it anymore.”

“I wouldn’t put money on that.” When his mouth curved into another smile, it was enough to give me the confidence to spill your guts one last time.

“I'll probably spend the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I hadn’t run away, if I’d just put my fear aside and told you everything I was feeling. You told me tonight that you were in love with me back then. I truly didn’t know that, Jay, but I wish I had. I really had no clue you felt that way. I need you to know that I loved you, too. I just had a really shitty way of showing it. And to think that you spent all of these years hating me. I just want you to be happy. If being around me makes you angry or stressed, then I don’t want to force anything, and if that’s the case, maybe it is best that we keep our distance. But if there’s a chance that we can truly be friends again, I would want nothing more. And I’m not stupid. Of course, I know it won’t happen overnight. That’s it. I won’t say anything else about it.”

You got up from the table and put your plate in the dishwasher. “Thank you for dinner and for talking to me. I’m gonna turn in early.”

Just as your foot hit the first step to go upstairs, his voice stopped me. “I never hated you. I couldn’t hate you if I tried. Believe me, I have tried.”

Turning around and smiling, I said, “Good to know.”

“Good night, Payne in my ass.”

“Good night, Jay.”

You was having my morning coffee when a text notification lit up you phone. It was from Dr. Dino. ‘How about dinner tomorrow night?’

You pondered your reply. It would probably do you some good to take advantage of a distraction from Jay. Since your talk the other night, things had been more cordial between both. At least he was no longer avoiding you. After he performed last night, you actually drove home from Yeonjun’s together. It was a quiet ride, but it was a step in the right direction. So, things were as good as they could have been.

The problem was you. You still couldn’t curb your attraction to him and didn’t know where to draw the line on your emotions. You thought about him every second of the day. You’d be going your separate ways soon, not to mention the not insignificant detail of his committed relationship with Yunjin.

You would never do anything intentionally to jeopardize that. But you still couldn’t control your feelings. Your fingers forced out a response to Dino. ‘Tomorrow night sounds great. Just let me know what time.’

Jay’s deep morning voice startled me. “I see you made coffee fusion.”

You jumped, quickly putting down the phone.

He snickered. “Oh. Did I interrupt something? You texting a boy?”

“No.”

He glared at you suspiciously. “Liar.”

A nervous laugh escaped you. “Want some coffee?”

“Trying to change the subject?”

“Maybe.”

“So, who was it?”

“Dino.”

“Dr. Dino?”

“Yes.”

“Ever heard of stranger dinosaur?”

“Yes.”

“They created that term about him.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’m pretty sure. Yeah.” He poured himself a mug of coffee and turned to me again. “Seriously? Dr. Cheesehall? You’re gonna go out with him?”

Nodding, you said, “Tomorrow night. What’s your problem with him anyway?”

“He’s disrespectful.”

“In what way?”

“That guy was eyeing you before he even confirmed we weren’t together.”

“Maybe he’s just perceptive.”

“How?”

“He sensed your disdain toward me. It was quite obvious.”

“Where’s he taking you?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“You should find out.”

“What does it matter?”

“In case you go missing, I’ll know where to tell the police to start looking.”

Evening rolled around, and you had absolutely no clue what to wear. Dino said he was taking you to this restaurant on the water in nearby Tiverton. It was going to be a humid night, so you opted for a lightweight floral tube dress that you’d bought one afternoon while out shopping with Yunjin earlier this summer.

You could hear Jay panting from down the hall. Didn’t dare go over there to assess the situation after what happened the last time, you found myself witness to that jerk-off jamboree. After several minutes, what sounded like punching was added into the mix.

You broke your vow to stay out of it and marched out of your room to check things out. It turned out that Jay was in the exercise room beating the shit out of an Everlast punching bag.

Beads of sweat were dripping down his sculpted back. The room smelled of sweat mixed with his cologne. His hair was drenched. He had headpone in, and you could hear the music blasting through them. Gritting his teeth, he hit the black rubber contraption harder and harder. Your heart beat faster with every punch.

When you inched cautiously closer, he growled, “Get out of the way.”

you flinched as his arm swung dangerously close to you.

You backed up but stayed watching him from the corner of the room. you’d seen him working out before but never like this. He was like a beast, so strong and virile. It occurred to you that with Jade gone so long, he must have been sexually frustrated.

Maybe that was why he was taking it out on the punching bag. Whatever the reason, you was transfixed by the energy he was expending and found yourself unable to take your eyes off him.

He suddenly stopped, lowering the headphones on his neck, and moved over to the doorway where he’d set up a metal bar for pull ups. Your eyes followed.

He jumped down from the bar and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “Nothing better to do than to watch me work out? Aren’t you supposed to be getting dressed for a date?”

“I'm dressed.”

“That’s Yunjin’s dress, isn’t it?”

“No. It’s the same one she has, but this one is mine. We both bought these from the same shop on clearance the same day.”

“It looks normal on her. On you…it looks ridiculous.”

Your stomach sank. “Are you saying I’m fat?”

“No, but your body is different than hers. That dress looks obscene on you.”

Looking down at yourself, you suddenly felt naked. “What are you talking about?”

“You want me to spell it out?”

“Yes.”

He came up behind you, grabbing your shoulders and positioning you in front of the full-length mirror on the wall. Shivers ran down your spine from the feel of his rough hands on you.

“Look. Your tits are busting out of it. Your nipples are poking out of the middle of those daisy flowers.”

Your mind was in a fog because all you could see was you in the mirror with Jay’s hot, sweaty body behind you. Then, he flipped you around fast and his stare was burning into yours.

He was too close for comfort, and your legs felt like they were going to collapse under you from the surge of sexual awareness. “Look at your ass in the mirror. The material can barely wrap around it. You think Dr. Diilittle is going to be able to look you in the eyes when you’re dressed like that?”

“You really think this looks that bad?”

He suddenly walked away from you and returned to the pull-up bar. Your nipples were tingling. You just wanted his hands on you again. “I think it makes you look like a whore,” he said before doing a few more reps in silence.

He hopped down, the weight of his body causing a large thump against the wood floor. “You really are that oblivious, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You never did have any clue what kind of effect you have on people.”

“Be specific, please.”

“When we were younger, you would sit on my lap, put your hands on me, run your fingers through my hair, hug me all of the time with your massive tits pressed against me. I spent half of my teenage years walking around with a hard on that I couldn’t do anything about. The entire time you apparently had no clue.”

“I didn’t.”

“I know that now. And you have no idea how many times I had to defend you behind your back. Guys talking about your body, saying sexual things about you right in front of my face. Do you have any clue how many fights I got into because of you?”

“You never told me.”

“No. I didn’t. Because I was trying to protect your feelings. I tried so hard to fucking protect you from shit, and that was the one thing that bit me in the ass in the end.”

“I’m sorry.”

He held his hands up. “You know what? Never mind. My bad. Let’s not do this again. I told you we were done talking. And we are.”

“Okay.”

“I’d like to continue my work out in peace if you don’t mind.”

“Alright.”

Back in your room, you could hear that he’d returned to the punching bag in full force. Still reeling from his words, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. Maybe you was really just a clueless person.

But he never exactly expressed his feelings to you back then, either. “Was I supposed to be a mind reader?” you felt like you needed to make that point. It was bugging you. You returned down the hall and spoke through his violent hooks to the bag.

“The other night you asked me why I never told you how I felt. Well, clearly you didn’t have the balls to tell me how you felt, either.”

Jay stopped punching but kept his arms on the bag, leaning against it. He took a few seconds to catch his breath. “I thought it was understood. How much more obvious could I have been? All the f*cking songs I wrote you? Did you ever even see me with any other girls?”

“No. But you did admit to kissing someone before that night at Sunghoon’s.”

“I did kiss one girl before that night. Wanna know why? Because I didn’t want to be clueless as to what the f*ck I was doing when I finally got the courage to kiss you. I never considered it a real kiss. I wanted my first real one to be with you. I wanted everything with you. But I was afraid you were too young, so I was waiting. I didn’t want to rush things and ruin it. But you’re right. A part of me also didn’t have the balls to tell you how I felt.”

“I wish you had. You were being careful, and I was just clueless. Together, we were…careless.”

“Careful plus clueless equals careless? Did you just make that up right now?”

“Yes.”

“That’s pretty cheesy.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“You’d better get ready for your date with Trapper Dinosaur.”

You laughed, relieved that he was smiling about things now. “Will you help me?”

“Help you? What the f*ck do you need help with?”

“Help me pick out what to wear. Because I think you’re right. This is a little skimpy.”

“A little skimpy? Hustler would be calling you tomorrow if I sent them a picture.”

“Alright. A lot skimpy.”

“You can’t figure this shit out on your own? It’s pretty simple. You cover your tits and ass. Done.”

“Yeah. But I still want to look good. You know I have a tendency to pick weird stuff. Potato sack couture and all. I feel like I go from one extreme to the other, and I don’t know how to dress in between.”

“Fine.” Jay let out an exhausted breath and followed you to your room.

You started to take dresses out of your closet, throwing them on the bed one by one. “How about this?”

“Slutty.”

“This one?”

“Sluttier.”

“Okay. This?”

“You got Birkenstocks to go with it?”

“Alright? This one?”

“Well, that would be one way to get rid of him.”

You covered your face. “Aargh! This is so frustrating.”

“I know a solution.”

“What?”

“Don’t go on the date.”

“Because I can’t figure out what to wear?!”

“Yeah. I think you should stay home.”

“You just don’t like him.”

“You’re damn right.”

“Again, why?”

“He just wants in your pants, Y/n.”

“Well, he’s not getting in my pants.”

“You sure about that?”

“I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”

He lifted his brow skeptically. “You’ve never slept with a guy on the first date?”

“Well…”

“Exactly.”

“Even if I wanted to sleep with him which I don’t, it wouldn’t be tonight.”

“Why is that?”

“I stabbed myself again.”

He shook his head and chuckled when he figured out you was referring to your period. “I see.”

“Why do you think that he’s only interested in me for my body anyway?”

“It was his eyes. I don’t trust them. You can tell a lot about someone by the look in their eyes. His gave me a bad vibe.”

“Well, I have more going for me than my tits and ass. So, hopefully you’re wrong.”

“You’re right. You have nice deep-set dimples when you smile, too.”

My body felt flush from the compliment that had come out of the blue. I didn’t know how to respond, so I simply said, “Shut up.”

“Just be careful,” he said seriously, reaching into his back pocket. “Speaking of which.. take this with you.” It was his old red Swiss Army knife from when you were younger.

“You still have this?”

“I’ll never stop needing this.”

“You really want me to take this with me?”

“Yes.”

Taking it from him, you said, “Okay.”

“Are we done here?”

“We still haven’t picked out what I’m wearing.”

Jay walked over to your closet nd ran his hand slowly along the lineup of outfits, eventually stopping at a simple black sleeveless dress that was far from revealing. It looked more like something you could wear to a funeral. Actually, it was the dress you had bought to wear to Ameryn’s funeral before you realized she had explicitly written that she didn’t want one. She wanted to just be cremated with her ashes thrown in the ocean without any fanfare.

“This one? Really?”

He held the dress in his hand. “Don’t ask for my help if you’re not gonna listen.”

“Okay. This one it is.” I took it from him and watched as he made his way out the door. Your eyes focused on the rectangular tattoo on his back.

Even though you always thought it was sexy as hell, you was never able to get a good enough look at it for some reason until now. “Jay.”

He turned around. “Yeah.”

“What is that tattoo on your back?”

His body stiffened. “It’s a bar code.”

“That’s what I thought. I always wondered. Does it mean anything?”

Refusing to answer my question, he simply said, “Get dressed. You don’t want to be late for Dr. D!ck.”

“Dino!”

“Yeah. Whatever you say, Payne.”

taglist: @rikizm @sumzysworld @xyzcxx @morganaawriterr @maccaab @jungwonie

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[ciainahere]

A Second Chance

Viktor Hargreeves X Fem!Reader

Viktor reconnects with one of his past lovers

A/N: I love Elliot page, and I think it is a CRIME that there isn't more Viktor fics out there. This is in the timeline of season 4 which I WILL rewrite bc idk wtf I watched but it wasn't Tua.

(Y/N will be used but won't be described)

"Viktor has officially ran through every woman in the town" A guy announced in the bar making everyone laugh. "Okay that's enough" Viktor said taking the keys a woman had slammed on the counter. Viktor walked back behind the counter to pick up the ringing phone "What is it Luther-" Luther's words faded as he looked at the entrance to see a woman walking in. The woman walked up to the bar leaning on the counter, watching Viktor put the phone away without saying goodbye.

"Hi Viktor" "Hi Y/N"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

10 months earlier

"That's absolutely ridiculous V" Y/N laughed watching Viktor make breakfast. "I'm being so serious; we went back in time" Viktor giggled. Y/N took bacon from the pan "Okay so where are your so-called powers" Viktor rolled his eyes "I told you we lost them" "You lost them after coming out of a rich hotel with a killer bodyguard" Y/N busted out laughing realizing how stupid it all sounded. "It's not funny" Viktor wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her closer. "But it kind of is" She placed her hands on his cheeks.

They stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying being in each others arms. "So what else did your powers do" Y/N asked playing with his necklace "It was like energy blasts, vibrations and stuff" Viktor replied. A smirk grew on Y/N's face "Did your hands vibrate too" Viktor looked at her confused then sighed when he realized that she was thinking of "You're so annoying"

"You know you love me" "I do"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2 months earlier

"I can't do this anymore" Viktor said looking at his feet. "Come on, it's just a burger. You can finish it" Y/N giggled. Viktor looked at the woman in front of him. She was everything Viktor could wish for. She was perfect. Too perfect. It scared him. "I mean i can’t do... This." He gestured toward him and Y/N.

"Are you breaking up wit-" "Yes" Viktor interrupted. "Why? I thought we were okay, no actually. I thought we were great" Y/N stared trying to understand where they went wrong or what she could of done to make Viktor not love her anymore. Viktor had no explanation other than he was scared of falling in love with her. Even though he already has. "It's just.. too complicated. Your parents already don't like me and i have to run the bar, we barely even see each other." Viktor lied looking at his plate. Y/N had made them burgers and cake because of the success of the bar. And for their 5 month anniversary.

Y/N knew he was lying.

"I bring you lunch every day at the bar and I'm always awake when you come back. I even offered to help out. YOU were the one that said no." Tears started to fill her eyes trying to find an answer in Viktor's. He refused to look at her. Like she no longer mattered. "V. I've told you so many times that I don't care what my parents think. Or anyone else. It's my life, I choose what I do, and I can love who I want." Viktor needed to leave. He knew if he had looked at her everything would go wrong. Viktor headed for the door of Y/N apartment stopped when he heard Y/N's final words.

"Viktor, I want to love you... because I do but you- You have to let me love you."

Viktor left leaving Y/N with confusion and tears.

A/N: sooo.. should i delete myself and my page or keep going...🌚 PLEASE tell me what you think i genuinely don't mind advice as long as it's respectful.

[weeesi]

WEEESI READS

aka fic rec series where I scream "you need to read this!" into the void

Indefinite Lines by arwamachine

I know I'm late on this one and I can only apologise to myself for that really. Compelling casefic, cinematic writing, interesting narrative structure, the cutest Rosie incarnation this side of s4, and plenty - PLENTY - of angst and comfort. Incredible character voices, including one of the best Sherlocks I've ever read. Head the tags re: whump though, because hoo boy. @arwamachine is responsible for creating a term that I now think about once a day which I will refer to here as m*** s****** for fear of spoilers. Don't miss Bonus Lines, which is a collection of incredible deleted/bonus scenes that accompanies the fic.

2. Thankless (a 5 + 1) by Silvergirl

Do you love Lestrade? Do you love @totallysilvergirl? Lucky for you, I already knew your answer to both of those questions was OF COURSE YES, WHY DO YOU ASK. As it says on the tin, a 5 + 1 wherein we revisit key moments throughout the series where Lestrade helps Sherlock until, finally, it finally sinks in (hopefully before it's too late). Gorgeous, lush, emotionally resonant writing across the board. I adore Silver's Lestrade (and pretty much everything Silver writes, honestly, including the epic, fantastically written Drawn to Stars and the heartachy, beautifully written A Case of You) and I'm 100% positive you will too.

3. Inscrutable to the Last by DiscordantWords

I love a super unique fic idea and @discordantwords always seems to have an endless supply. How they do it, I would love to know. This fic. THIS FIC. I don't want to give any spoilers but the inherent premise is just sooooo clever. Precise and devastating writing, excellent plotting, with spot-on character details and dialogue (as usual). You should also read their heartbreaking (and heart-healing) s4 fix-it (Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea after you give this one a go!

If you're interested in more fic recs, let me know!

[michirusagi]

blues in the night.

there ain't a doubt about it now, the rain's a-fallin'.

Kn8 + heartbreak. Based on a song we sing sometimes in the choir I'm in lol

Kafka Hibino is used to heartbreak. So when you break up with him, he's not very reactive. He's like "oh :( haha...ok. I get it." Even as you explain that you just can't be with him if he's going to play it as risky as he usually does, your heart just can't take it, he probably just shuts down. Wouldn't try to convince you to stay, even though he'd think "i could play it a little safer for you."

Mina Ashiro doesn't know how to deal with your sudden stonewalling her. You have this dead look in your eyes when you dump her after months of one word responses and hardly seeing each other. She knows you're depressed, and asks how she can help. Your response is "leave me alone, find someone better." She'd push a little, but gives in after you yell at her to leave. Cries herself to sleep that night. Doesn't delete your number for weeks because she's still hoping you'll text eventually. You never do.

Reno Ichikawa is a mess when you dump him. Speed runs the five stages of grief. You tell him "I'm just not in love with you anymore." He wants to scream. What the fuck, since when? Argues and argues with you, won't let it go until you block him on everything. He really thought he could fix it. Most likely to try getting drunk to make it feel less terrible. Might never love again. Who knows.

Soshiro Hoshina fights with you when you tell him you're fed up with his loyalty to Captain Ashiro over you. He thinks you're being ridiculous and childish and just jealous which makes you want to rip him to shreds. He doesn't get it. Why would you see Mina as a threat? Mina. Not Captain Ashiro. That's the last straw. You end it and stomp out before he can protest. He thinks you'll come back but you never do. He's probably angry. You do not end on good terms.

Iharu Furuhashi cries when you break up with him. You give the whole "it's not you, it's me" schpiel but he doesn't buy it, why should he? You've been dating a month, he knows you met someone else. He's right. That's what he gets for moving so fast, he thinks. He always gets ahead of himself.

Gen Narumi screams at you when you tell him you're in love with someone else. He's hurt, he's pissed, he feels betrayed as hell. Not that he can blame you for falling in love with Kafka over him. He knew it, but hoped he was wrong. He covers this up by yelling about how Kafka is weak and not as cool as him, and you scream at him even louder to defend the guy. It sets him off. "So that's it then, you're done? We're done?" He sounds like a broken little kid when he says it. You apologize, teary eyed, but have to leave. It wouldn't be fair for you to keep lying to him. He isolates himself for days afterwards and plays a ton of shooting games. Only comes out for work and is more violent then. Don't cross him during this time.

Rin Shinonome breaks up with you easily, without breaking a sweat. It's practiced, wooden, boring even. You accept it too easily for her taste, and she knows it's because she's second to Captain Narumi. Whatever. At least she dumped you first, right?