#these have been collected over a few months

[readwritealldayallnight]

reader who is flexible / does yoga x simon who gets really flustered watching it? 👀

During those first few months of living together as flatmates, having gone from strangers who happened to have a friend in common to sharing a bedroom wall within 24 hours, you both learned a lot about each other

On your end, you learned that his presence in the flat was a rarity, gone for days if not weeks at a time before coming home. Even then, he usually was only back for short periods of time, most of it spent sleeping

You do discover that he’s an early riser however, much to your chagrin when the sound of his routine post workout shower wakes you up before the sun has ever risen

You learn that he’s a decent enough cook, but will always insist on helping in some way if he finds you in the kitchen working on something, no matter how simple or complicated the dish is

Over time you even find out how he prefers his tea in the morning and when you get the chance, try and surprise him with a warm drink waiting for him after his shower

When you know that he prefers to keep the flat a little cooler than you usually have it, you’ll turn the thermometer down a degree just before he comes home, just as he’s gotten into the habit of turning it back up for you on his way out, the gesture going unspoken between the two of you

Simon also learns a lot about you in the time since you’ve moved in

He learns all about your taste in music, a melody never not playing in the background of whichever room you’re occupying, often telling him the name of a song or artist you can tell he likes from the way his foot will tap or fingers will drum against his thigh

He discovers you’re a bit of a night owl, often hearing you in the kitchen baking some dessert or another at midnight, or talking on the phone with a friend. He never minds though. In one case he wakes up to sweet treats in the morning, and the other he gets to overhear your even sweeter voice chirping and giggling. And if one time a smile of his own graces his lips when he hears you telling your friend how you’re loving the new flat, and your flatmate “isn’t so bad on the eyes either”, then who’s complaining?

He finds out what your favourite take out food is, often surprising you with something on his return home, definitely not blushing under the mask if it earns him a hug or peck on the cheek as thanks

But one thing Simon learns about you early on, something that he thinks about not just at home but on base, in briefings, on missions, on helis and jets and trucks, is how part of your daily routine, is doing fucking yoga in the living room.

He’s been in countless situations most civilians could never even dream up, let alone withstand, and Simon under the mask that is Ghost always stays as cool and collected as any seasoned vet would

But seeing you in sweatpants, or leggings, or even worse when you’re wearing those shorts of yours, strolling into the living room with your yoga mat tucked under your arm, his pants instantly tighten every single time, knowing what’s to come (or rather who’s to c-)

Following along to your instructional video playing on the telly, paying him no mind as he sits in the adjoining kitchen as you bend into position after position, simply doing your nightly routine as you have for years now, unknowingly putting your flatmate through a torture he’s never endured before

Every time he’s lucky enough to witness you stretching your limbs, contorting your body into poses he couldn’t fathom doing himself, he finds his dreams that night filled with the very same images of you, though wearing far less clothing, and in his bed instead of a yoga mat, though he would take you anywhere let’s be honest

He always waits for you to finish your routine, be it a quick 15 minute stretch or a nearly hour long session, he remains and watches you until you leave, before he dares to stand with his arousal on full display through his pants, rushing to his room or bathroom to take care of business

He learns that he’s never felt more intense pleasure at his own hand than when he thinks of you, when he has has your face and body freshly imprinted on his mind as he finishes, imagining the heaven that it must be to have the real thing rather than his calloused fist

It’s interesting you see

You really like Simon, and you like when he’s home, like getting to know him and spend more time with him

And if you happen to learn that when you do your yoga routine out where he can see you, that he suddenly spends a lot more time in the flat than on base, coming home more and more often, no matter how short his stay is… well, who’s complaining?

[nerdykeppie]

Holiday Shopping that fights period poverty for college students? Yep! Read on. :)

After the success of our June/Pride 2024 sales goal, where we managed to eliminate a lot of the debt we accumulated while I was unable to work earlier this year & stock up cash so we didn't have to borrow for payroll during the fall lull and also donate to @queerliblib, we were considering where to focus on this year when a conversation I had with my mom pointed me in the direction of our charity for Holidays 2024: the East Stroudsburg University Warrior Food Pantry, and specifically, stocking menstrual products at the pantry.

Without getting too much into the weeds about the details - which I'll talk about under the cut for those of you who are interested - here's the pitch: we need to hit a gross sales goal of $45K in December in order to pay our bills and payroll basically until Pride starts up. Businesses like ours are very much feast or famine, and we've got to eat and we've got people whose paychecks depend on us having the cash to pay them.

If we hit that goal, we'll donate the equivalent of 1% of our net profit from the month of December in period products -- tampons and pads, specifically, by request of the food pantry, and possibly reusable pads and menstrual cups, if the pantry wants that from us. (At the end of the day, this is about taking care of people the way they need, and we'll listen to the pantry staff about what people are requesting.)

We've currently got our Bottoms & Tops sale going, too, so you can buy 2 tops or bottoms from the linked collection & get 69% off the 3rd item from that collection.

Okay, so for the long version whys and wherefores:

My mom taught math at ESU for 35 years, and she and Dad now volunteer running the food pantry along with a couple of other people. ESU is a state school, and as such is one of the few remaining vaguely affordable schools in Pennsylvania. A lot of its students are self-supporting for one reason or another -- many are "non-traditional"/adult students, have kids, or don't have families that can support them while they go to school. Mom & Dad have pushed to expand what the food pantry offers to personal care items, which has been difficult due to a bunch of boring stuff about money and state entities and also people thinking 'that's not food,' but Mom is stubborn about it, because -- to paraphrase her -- how can you focus on class when you feel gross? This struggle has been especially difficult for menstrual products, and way more so for tampons, because it's a rather conservative area and... yeah. People get weird about it.

I've been really broke, with a young kid, and reliant on food pantries, which rarely, if ever, have any menstrual products, let alone tampons. Period poverty is very real, and it sucks.

Plus, I gotta tell you, if we can send a bunch of boxes of tampons and pads to the food pantry, well... Rumor has it this will help my mom win an argument over whether those items should be carried at all, because what are they gonna do, throw them out? They're here! They've been donated! Wasting them would be terrible. :)

So that's the pitch, guys. Help me make a direct, measurable difference in the lives of people at the school where I went to winter swim team, the school that fed me growing up... and help my mom win an argument about making people's lives better... and get your holiday shopping done while you do. ;) We start counting sales from the minute I hit post. :P

[megalony]

They Call Me Hangman

It's been a while, but here is a Jake Seresin (Hangman) imagine, I hope you will all like this request. Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs

Main Masterlist

Summary: When (Y/n)'s ex starts to stalk her and follow her around, she eventually tells Jake. and he becomes protective over her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So what do you reckon Hangman, you ready to go home?"

A grin spread across Jake's lips as he hung his head down to avoid looking at the rest of the team.

Home. The place he had been fantasising about for the last three months. The place he was desperate to be; the place he had been aching to be since the moment he left.

The only part of the job that Jake didn't like was the fact that he had to be away from home- away from (Y/n)- for weeks and sometimes months at a time. He didn't like being away from her. It had been fine when he used to be someone who had casual flings and hook ups every other week and never had a steady girlfriend. But now he did. Now he had a fiancee waiting at home for him, and Jake hated to be away from her.

"More than ready." Jake lifted his head just a little and grinned over at Bradley as they headed across the base towards the gates.

They were being released. Sometimes leaving like this felt like they were being released from prison when they left the air base and those large metal gates reeled open to let them pass. It felt like they had been locked up rather than out on missions and out of the country most of the times.

The helmet in Jake's hand jostled as he reeled it in closer to his side and looped his bag higher on his right shoulder.

His eyes squinted in the midday sun as he lifted his head and looked around, wishing he hadn't stuffed his sunglasses in his bag earlier in his haste to pack up quickly. Most of the squad would be travelling home together. Bradley was driving Coyote, Bob and Phoenix were getting a taxi home together and the others all had people coming to collect them. Just like Jake.

He didn't have to hitch a ride from someone on the team or get a taxi to an empty home. Sometimes he used to go straight to the bar rather than going home so he wouldn't have to be met with a lonesome home, void and empty. Not anymore. His home was never empty and he now had someone waiting for him at the gates when he left.

A grin suddenly lit up Jake's face when he headed out of the gates and took a look around. He recognised that car parked on the right.

The bag on his shoulder slid down his arm until he could dump it on the dusty path and he tossed his red helmet on top of the bag so he could rush ahead.

His boots padded and thumped against the ground as he set off into a sprint with his eyes locked on that familiar frame that had been haunting his dreams for the last few months.

(Y/n) uncrossed her arms from resting over her chest and pushed up off the bonnet she had been leaning against. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes already the moment she saw Jake aiming her way. He was grinning from ear to ear, so much so that he could barely see a thing from how badly his smile was causing him to squint.

His hair looked perfectly swept over to one side, blond streaks glistening in the sunlight that reflected streaks of orange across each strand. The closer Jake got, the more (Y/n) could feel her heart thumping in her chest, threatening to break out of her ribcage.

He reached her in record time and (Y/n) barely opened her arms before Jake had hold of her.

He bent at the knees, deadlocked his arms around her waist and lifted her up off her feet. She had to loop her arms around his neck to stop herself from wobbling or swaying in his arms when he spun her round in huge circles like he was showing her off to the world and wishing her dress would fan around them in a display.

She laughed and tucked her face down into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent that felt so overpowering when she had him back in her arms like this. Compared to how (Y/n) had been hugging his shirts or lying on his pillow at night to try and feel closer to him when he wasn't there beside her.

It felt so good to have Jake's arms bound around her waist like this and have his hard chest pressing against her own. She could feel his chest rumbling with laughter that tickled her neck and his lips felt feverish and loving against her skin when he pressed hollow, wet kisses all up and down her neck.

"God, I missed you." His voice sounded a lot deeper than usual and had (Y/n) shivering in his arms.

Her hand moved to cup the back of his neck and she scratched her nails through the short hairs at the base of his head. While Jake finally lifted his head and stared up at her with that admiration in his eyes that made (Y/n) want to melt in his arms.

He was looking at her like she was an angel here on Earth, like she was the only person worth looking at. And he still hadn't put her down, his hands were clamped down on her hips and he had his chest tilted back to lean (Y/n) against him and keep her lifted up in the air so he could admire her.

When he finally set her down to her feet, (Y/n) felt like her knees were going to give way beneath her. She moved her hands round to cradle his neck in her hands and she stayed pressed up as close to his chest as she could manage until it felt like they were merging into one person.

Her thumbs traced along Jake's jaw until she had his smile committed to memory and she was sure no extra details had suddenly arisen on his skin while he had been away. He had no more lines around his eyes, no freckles suddenly appearing on his tanned skin. Those ruby red lips were the same as always, those blue eyes were just as intense and it looked like his hair hadn't grown an inch since he'd been gone, it had been cut expertly to match how he looked before he left.

"I missed you too." (Y/n) stumbled on her back foot when Jake swooped down and attached his lips to hers. She felt his nose rubbing against hers and his lips were bruising as he pushed into her like he was trying to flood her with his love and warmth and let her feel how much he'd missed her.

She felt his hand leave her lip so he could angle her head up in his direction and his thumb dragged along her cheekbone while their teeth meshed together and his lips seemed to devour every inch of her mouth.

Whatever breath she tried to take was swallowed up by Jake and the grin that was spreading across his lips when he felt her hand reach out to cradle his wrist that was against her face.

He nudged her back until her back and hips were met with the door of her car and she was sandwiched between Jake and the metal.

When a sudden coughing caught her ears, (Y/n) tried to squeeze Jake's wrist and lean her head back so she could glance to the right. The Dagger Squad were watching with bright eyes and broad smirks spread across their faces.

She felt Jake's lips attach to the corner of her mouth, desperate to steal her back into another kiss but he could see her attention was elsewhere. When Jake craned his eyes to the right, he barely spared the squad a glance before his eyes were back on (Y/n) and his fingers were curling around her chin, tilting her head back in his direction.

He didn't care if they all stood watching and gawping at them. Jake hadn't seen his girl in months, he was having as many kisses as he liked and he was attaching himself to her whether they watched him or not.

"Ignore 'em. I've waited long enough to have you back in my arms." He murmured against her lips with a gritty edge to his voice while he motioned one hand towards the team, silently telling them to move. They didn't have to stand and watch. They could all make their own way home and he would message them tomorrow.

Right now he was busy.

A groan tumbled past Jake's lips and his brows furrowed in his half-asleep state, wondering why he was awake. He was a deep sleeper at the best of times, he had to be when he had to share bunkers with others on the squad when they were away on deployment. If he didn't adapt he would never sleep with the sound of others moving about the room and snoring and making a general racket in the dead of night.

It took some effort to wake him, especially when he was home in the comfort of his own bed with no distractions or noises to focus on and keep him awake.

His eyes remained closed and he tried to burrow his face back down into the pillow and let himself drift back to sleep.

His mind was halfway back to shutting down when a sudden voice behind him caught him off guard.

"No!"

A shudder tore down his back and he hurriedly lifted his head from the pillow and cracked his eyes open, trying to adjust and see through the darkness in case there was an intruder in the room. It wasn't very likely. They'd never had a break-in before and they weren't in the kind of neighbourhood where that was a big worry.

The room was empty. Jake twisted around with a huff so he was no longer laid on his right side. He flopped onto his back and cracked his eyes open, trying to look around the room again find out what was going on. He could feel dread creeping through his system as he tilted his head to the left and looked over at (Y/n).

He narrowed his tired eyes and tried to look (Y/n) up and down, but he could tell instantly that she wasn't awake. That was somewhat of a relief, she wasn't panicking about someone breaking in or something happening in their home.

She was laid on her back with her head slightly turned towards the left so she was facing away from him. Her elbows were pinned into her waist and her lower back had arched up from the bed just a little making her spine curve, but every part of her was shaking.

It almost looked like Jake had woken up in the middle of an exorcism with how (Y/n) was pushing up from the bed and how badly she was shaking. When he dared to stretch his hand out in her direction, he realised she was beginning to sweat too.

His spine clicked into place as he pushed up into a sitting position and turned to lean over (Y/n).

It had been a while since she'd had a nightmare, at least from what Jake could remember.

"Baby?" His voice was flooded with caution and he tested the waters by reaching out for her. His thumb brushed across her jaw and his fingers pressed into the side of her neck to feel her pulse which was fluctuating but steadily rising higher. He could feel how her chest was rising and falling and the shallow, panicked breaths wheezing past her lips.

A guttural scream gurgled at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and sent Jake reeling back in shock while her body tremored and her arms jerked into her waist with her elbows jabbing into her sides.

Jake moved to flop onto his left side, resting his weight on his arm and his elbow which pressed down into the bed just beneath the pillow. And he reached his hand back out towards her, skimming his fingertips up and down her shoulder and down her arm to try and carefully bring her out of whatever nightmare she was trapped in.

He leaned across her with his chest lightly pressing down onto hers and he pecked her forehead when he noticed tears glistening in the corner of her eyes that finally started to flutter and her body seemed to break loose from her locked state.

Jake couldn't remember the last nightmare (Y/n) had, or why she had one. They used to be a common occurrence when they first got together, curtesy of her ex who hadn't been the nicest of people, far from it. But (Y/n) was comfortable and happy and flooded with love now she was with Jake and she barely suffered from nightmares or bad dreams anymore.

"It's okay, I've got you." Jake's voice was comforting and the feeling of his lips against her neck was like sparks igniting under (Y/n)'s skin and lighting up throughout her body.

(Y/n)'s eyes flickered but she could barely open them without seeing the remnants of her dream flashing before her eyes. She screwed them shut as tightly as she could, grumbling and gasping through clenched teeth as she continued to writhe and tremble against the mattress.

She wasn't sure whatever Jake said next over the blood pounding through her ears, but (Y/n) suddenly felt her right hand twitch against her thigh. It was enough to make her relieved and she tried to move it again, glad she wasn't becoming locked-in. She had suffered with sleep paralysis before and she didn't want to experience that again.

(Y/n) shifted her trembling hands and locked them around her waist as she tried to bring her knees up and curl in on herself. She could still feel herself trembling and the rest of her body felt stiff as if she had been covered in clay that had now dried and locked her in a plaster cast form. Even the tears rolling down her face felt like they were starting to dry out and make her face crack and tense up.

She was sure she was still shaking and she didn't dare open her eyes, but a deep warmth spread through her system when she felt a strong arm suddenly drape across her chest.

Jake's arm settled on her lower chest and when his hand reached up and cupped the side of her face, (Y/n) felt like bursting into another fit of tears. She leaned into the touch and managed a shaky kiss against his wrist while his thumb stroked along her chin.

He shuffled closer and flopped his head down on the very edge of his pillow so he was practically laid in the middle of the bed to be as close to her as possible. His chest moulded up against (Y/n)'s arm and he tilted his head down until his lips attached to her shoulder. He could feel the heat radiating off of her like she was a roaring fire and he inched closer, desperate to be embraced by the flames.

"Shh, you're okay." He murmured against her skin while he moved his right leg and gently hooked it over (Y/n)'s thigh so he was thoroughly enveloped around her like a weighted security blanket.

He felt the way (Y/n) turned her head down towards him and burrowed her nose and mouth against his hair and it made his arm tighten around her.

And the way her hands grabbed his arm and clutched him tighter made him sure that whatever nightmare she'd had was clearly a bad one. Her nails were scratching into his arm and when she kept tightening her hand on his arm, he sighed into her shoulder.

Without opening his eyes, Jake wriggled his arm out of her hold and removed his hand from her face so he could curl his fingers around the back of her hand. He squeezed tight and moved her arm down to her chest so he could keep hold of her hand and still have his arm hooked over her waist. His thumb stroked along the side of her palm and he started tracing his foot up and down her lower leg to give her something to focus on and distract herself with.

"Just a dream, you're alright now."

He pressed another flurry of kisses against her shoulder before he craned his head to smother his lips against the crook of her neck. Each breath softly fanned against her skin and warmed her up, not that (Y/n) needed to be any warmer, but it was still comforting.

Jake was wrapped around her. She was okay. She was safe.

***

"Baby, are you okay?"

Leaning to the right, Jake pressed his palm down on the kitchen counter while his other hand clamped down on his hip. He crossed one leg in front of the other and tilted his head to one side as he looked over at (Y/n).

He watched her carefully as she turned around so she was facing him. She had a light frown etched into her features as she set down the kettle and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Of course, why?" She gave him a funny look and shook her head as if asking why he would think something was wrong.

She was fine. She wasn't sick or feeling run down, she wasn't having a bad day and (Y/n) didn't think she had done anything to give Jake the impression that something was wrong. Her head ticked to one side and she waited for Jake to explain why he was under the impression that she wasn't okay or something was playing on her mind.

Her lips curved into a small, tender smile when Jake took a few steps forward so he was stood in front of her, but he didn't reach out for her like she thought he would. His arms moved to fold over his chest and he rose one brow as he stared down at her with worry in his eyes and his lips set into a frown.

"Last night… you haven't had nightmares like that in a while. What's going on?" Jake knew she usually told him if she was having nightmares and since he'd been back home, she'd had two in the space of one week.

That wasn't normal.

That was a sign that something was wrong and Jake wanted to know if this was something he needed to be worried about too. He hadn't seen (Y/n) scream from a nightmare like that in over a year, possibly longer.

Before he went on his last deployment (Y/n) had barely had any dreams or nights like that. And now he was home, she was suffering with them again. It made Jake wonder just how long the bad nights had been happening for and if she'd had a few while he'd been away and she neglected to tell him.

(Y/n) tilted her head down and reached her hands behind her to grip the counter so she had something to hold and focus on.

"It's silly." She shook her head as she spoke, but her heart started to double its pace when Jake's hand was suddenly beneath her chin.

He tilted her head back so she had no choice but to look up at him and see the way he was staring down at her. He had his chin aimed down near his chest, his brows raised and his eyes wide and trained in on her. And the way his lips formed such a tender little smile made (Y/n)'s knees threaten to give way. He didn't look like he was about to laugh at her or tell her she was being stupid or that she needed to explain herself now.

He looked like he would wait until the world ended if that was how long it would take for (Y/n) to feel comfortable and want to explain what was going through her head right now. Whatever it was, Jake knew it was something upsetting because she was clearly distressed and worried about something.

"I guarantee it's not. Tell me." He coaxed gently and brushed his thumb across the middle of her chin.

(Y/n) leaned her head into his hand, brushing against his touch while she tried to fathom how to find the words and tell Jake without feeling so stupid and paranoid.

"I just… I feel like I'm being followed, when I go out, you know? I got nervous. Must have triggered the dreams again."

(Y/n) brought her hand up to cup Jake's wrist while she focused on his fuchsia pink lips rather than daring to risk looking up into those ocean blue eyes. She didn't want to look up and lose her train of thought or dare see if he was smirking or rolling those lovely eyes if he thought she was being silly.

"And… and I've been getting strange calls," Her fingers curled tighter around Jake's wrist when he nudged her head back again and stared down at her with furrowed brows and a firm frown set in his features.

"What calls? What did they say?"

"Nothing. They either hang up, or I just- I hear this heavy breathing."

(Y/n) let go of Jake's wrist so she could loop both her arms around his waist and she gently pulled her head from his hand so she could push into his chest. She meshed her cheek up against his sternum and listened to the sound of his heartbeat that was thundering and picking up speed like he was halfway through a marathon.

She felt his arm bind around her waist with his fingers digging into her hip and his other hand moved to cup the back of her neck. He tilted his head down and sighed into her hair before he began kissing the top of her head.

"Do you think it's him?" The dark, gritty tone to Jake's voice made (Y/n) shiver and cling to him tighter.

"I don't know."

She wasn't one hundred percent sure if it was her ex that was making the calls and following her around or if she was just being silly. But (Y/n) wasn't stupid. She was so sure she kept seeing a man hovering around. When she walked to the shops, when she was leaving work or going for a drink with friends.

Whatever she seemed to be doing, she could see that shadow in the distance. Always with his hands in his pockets and a dark shirt and jeans. It was the same colour hair as John. The same height and roughly the same build. Whoever it was always hung back, never got too close, but almost every time (Y/n) went out she found that shadow following her around at some point during her day.

The phone calls were new. Most of them were hang up calls, she said hello, asked who was there and then the line went dead. Then they changed. She got no reply when she demanded to know who was calling, but (Y/n) started to hear heavy breathing or sometimes a light, shallow pattern huffing into the receiver.

She had stopped answering the phone. If she didn't know the number, (Y/n) didn't answer. It was too risky when the phone calls were just making her paranoid and upsetting her.

"When did this start?" Jake leaned his cheek on top of (Y/n)'s head while he leaned back into the counter and tugged her with him so she was leaning up against him. He dreaded to hear that this had been happening for weeks while he had been away. If that was the case, (Y/n) should have told him when they had their video calls and long phone calls during the night.

"Maybe, three weeks ago?" She cringed when she felt the deep breath Jake sucked in and how he practically growled into her hair.

"You should have told me sooner. If it's him, I'll find him, I won't let him do this to you. I promise."

If this was her ex, then Jake would make sure John backed away. He wouldn't let anyone do this to (Y/n), but especially not him. Not after what he had put her through.

(Y/n) had left John when he became controlling and boardering on cruel rather than kind. She walked away from him and left without regrets, but John didn't take that so well. He had called her, constantly followed her, turned up at her home, her work. He caused a scene every time, especially when (Y/n) had to start involving the police.

Thankfully that had frightened him and when (Y/n) got a restraining order against him, he backed away altogether.

Jake had only seen her ex a few times and he had always made sure to steer (Y/n) away from him and stop any confrontation. But they had never had this kind of worry with him before. He hadn't been around (Y/n) in years, she hadn't worried about him since she and Jake started steadily dating.

He shouldn't know where they live, he shouldn't really know (Y/n)'s new place of work but she was sure he did, if indeed it was John who was starting to follow her around.

"It'll be okay." Jake wasn't going to let this continue. He would do whatever he could to stop this.

He would protect her.

***

"Is (Y/n) coming?"

A smile flooded Jake's face and he glanced over to the left where Bradley was leaning back against the pool table in the corner of the bar. His arms were folded over his chest and his lips were curved into a smirk.

"She should be here soon." Jake peered at the watch strapped to his wrist before he threw the last dart in his hand with a satisfied smirk when he hit a triple twenty.

(Y/n) said she would come down to the bar once she finished work and she should be here anytime around now. It took about ten minutes to walk from her work down here near the beach. Jake had offered to go pick her up once she finished, but (Y/n) said it was easier to walk than have Jake mess around to come pick her up.

Jake retrieved all three darts from the board, jotted down his total on the scoreboard and backed up to let Bradley have his turn. In two more goes, Jake would win this round and the drinks would be on Bradley.

He leaned back against the wall and waited patiently for his opponent to take his go. And he let his eyes cast over to the pool table where Coyote and Bob were trying to have a game. Neither of them were very good, Jake would be surprised by whichever one of them won.

He began tapping the end of a dart against his thigh, tapping out a rhythm that was stuck in the back of his head. But he looked up when he heard a low whistle and he watched Bradley nod his head in the direction of the main entrance to the bar.

Jake spun and craned his head round to the left and his eyes creased when he locked onto (Y/n) walking into the bar.

He pushed up off the wall and took his first throw at the dartboard before he moved his left arm out and reached for (Y/n) when she aimed his way. She weaved expertly through the crowd of people clustering around the bar counter, waiting to be served. And she moved rather quickly until she was right next to Jake.

Her hands curled around his arm that was stretched out in her direction and she pulled it into her chest, gluing herself up into his side.

"Just in time to see me win, baby." Jake threw his next two darts and leaned his weight forward onto his right foot.

But when he glanced his eyes down at (Y/n) who was still attached to his left arm, his winning smirk faded into a look of concern. His head angled to one side and his lips faded into a thin line when (Y/n) didn't pull away from him. Her nose and lips were pressing against his shoulder through his beige uniform but he could feel her shaking against him. Added with the fact that she hadn't spoken to him yet, Jake got the sudden unsettling feeling that something was wrong.

Jake waved his hand towards the board and gave Bradley a certain look. Their game would have to be put on hold for a few minutes.

He moved his right hand to hold (Y/n)'s arm and his lips pressed down to her temple as he gently nudged her back and backed up towards the windows at the end that looked out onto the beach. He carefully reeled his arm out of (Y/n)'s grip so both hands could hold her hips but he shuddered when her hands instantly clutched at his shirt like she was about to rip it right off him.

"What's up?"

"He- he was following me. I saw him."

(Y/n) dared to lean her head around Jake's shoulder to try and look behind him, but she knew he hadn't followed her in here.

She smothered her face into Jake's shirt when his hands clenched down on her hips and he twisted to look over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed and a look of panic spread across his face as he tried to scout through the familiar faces in the bar, desperately searching for the one that shouldn't be here. But he couldn't see him.

Jake moved his hand around to cradle the back of (Y/n)'s neck and he leaned down to attach his lips to the top of her head again. His other arm looped around the back of her waist and he tucked her closer into his chest until they were practically merging into one person.

"Did he say anything- he didn't grab you, did he?" His voice came out gritty and dark but he found himself narrowing his eyes and focusing on the beach through the bay windows in front of them.

Would that creep hang around? If he hadn't followed (Y/n) inside the bar, would be wait around out there to try and get to her when she came out? Maybe he would walk around to the back at the back of the bar and wait there or try and peer through the windows to find her.

Jake wouldn't put anything past her ex.

He couldn't see anyone. There were a few couples wandering the beach right down the other end where the tide was starting to drift out. But there didn't seem to be any lonesome people wandering nearby or hanging particularly close to the bar. That was good. That implied he wasn't hanging around..

(Y/n) shook her head and leaned back just enough to look up at Jake. "I think- I think the bar put him off, b-but he was definitely following me."

She wasn't going insane and she wasn't imagining anything. (Y/n) saw John. She saw her ex as clear as day and this time, he was closer. He wasn't ten or fifteen feet behind her, he wasn't hanging back around a corner like he had been when she first noticed someone following her around.

He was six feet behind her, and he kept getting closer. He ended up being almost within arms reach of her and (Y/n) didn't know what to do. She couldn't stop and confront him, she didn't know if he would grab her or run away or try and hurt her, she had no idea what he might do. And if she started to run down the street people would think she was insane and if John started running too, he would most likely catch her.

She had started to jog when she saw the bar was within reach and when she reached the doors, she blundered inside and stood in the doorway. She didn't see where John went.

He wouldn't follow her into a crowded place like this, it was too risky and there were too many people about who could help and shield (Y/n). But it had definitely been her ex who had been following her.

"Okay, it's okay. You're with us now, he won't get anywhere near you."

The whole squad was her within the bar tonight. If John tried to get in, he wouldn't get within ten feet of (Y/n). The squad would form a ring around her and shield her from him.

They wouldn't let him get close to her.

***

A soft hum vibrated at the back of Jake's throat and his head started to nod along to the music playing quietly through the speakers in the store. Both arms rested on the trolley handlebar and his upper body arched over so his lower back was sticking out while he slowly nudged the trolley down the aisle.

His head moved from side to side, peering on the shelves but he wasn't really paying much attention.

His eyes kept moving back towards (Y/n). He watched the way her hips swayed from left to right as she walked and how she started to shimmy her upper body and shoulders when the beat changed in the music. He loved to see her quietly whispering the lyrics, trying her best not to be too loud and start singing in the middle of the shop.

The list in her hand was becoming crinkled while her fingers tapped into the paper and she peered at the shelves, trying to find what they needed.

Neither of them were a fan of shopping. Whenever they came out, they stuck to the list, grabbed just what they needed and left. They never wasted a minute.

He followed along behind (Y/n) with a smile tracing his lips and a softness growing in his heart. When they headed down the next aisle, Jake pushed up from the trolley to stand straight and he reached out to take a few things from the shelves. The quicker they got what they needed, the sooner they could head back home.

He picked up a few sauce packets and placed them in the trolley before he moved to stand beside (Y/n). He reached his arm out and gently cupped (Y/n)'s hip and attached his lips to the back of her head.

"You good?" He peered over her shoulder to look down at the list in her hand, most of which was now in the trolley.

But when he looked back up at her, he realised (Y/n) wasn't looking at the list, nor was she looking at anything at the end of the aisle either. He felt her hand move to grab his wrist that was on the trolley and she leaned into his side, but she wouldn't turn her head in his direction.

"Jake…" (Y/n) nodded her head towards the other aisle in front of them as her body turned rigid and her blood ran cold.

John.

He was here. He was in the same shop as them. There was no trolley in front of him, no basket in his hand and it didn't look like he had picked anything up from the shelves at all. Both hands were tucked into his jacket pockets with his shoulders hunched up high and he was leaning against one of the shelves.

But it was the way his head was inclined to the side and how his eyes were focused in on them that made (Y/n) want to be sick.

He was staring directly at them.

Had he followed them to the shop? Did he know (Y/n) would be here with Jake, or did he think she would be alone Why follow them here? Why come to a public place where he couldn't exactly approach (Y/n) without making a scene or making a fool of himself?

"We're leaving." The affirmation in Jake's tone was definite and the stern, cold expression on his face made (Y/n) shiver.

She went limp, letting him reach out for her and manoevure her so he could guide them both out. Jake's hands moved to her waist and he gently tugged her to the left until she was stood in front of the trolley and her numb, trembling hands curled around the handle to keep herself upright so her knees didn't cave in beneath her and she let the list flutter down into the trolley.

She felt Jake move behind her so his chest was pressing down comfortingly into her waist and his lips attached to the back of her head. While his hands moved down and curled around hers on the handle. His elbows pressed into her arms and his frame completely engulfed around her, keeping (Y/n) safely tucked between him and the trolley so she was hidden and protected.

He steered the trolley towards the checkout but Jake kept twisting his head to peer over his shoulder. So far, John hadn't followed right behind them like a shadow. Jake couldn't see him, but that didn't make him feel much better.

He could feel exactly how (Y/n) was trembling in his arms and she could barely grasp the items from the trolley with how badly her hands were shaking and how numb her fingers felt.

Her eyes kept looking up at Jake and he hated to see the fear pooling within them. It made him dread to think what might have happened if (Y/n) had been out shopping on her own. John might have approached her. He might have tried to grab her or make a scene or frighten her.

Jake's jaw locked tight and his face set into a permanent disgruntled look while he tossed the items from the trolley onto the checkout.

His chest was heaving and his arms were tensing and tightening. How did that idiot know they were here? Why had he followed them? If he didn't and this was a coincidence then Jake liked that idea even less. He didn't like the thought of bumping into John like this. He didn't want to see him hanging around at all.

(Y/n) stayed close into Jake's side when they went through the checkout and her hand curled around his upper arm while the lady on the checkout began scanning everything through.

She perched her chin on Jake's shoulder while his fingers danced up and down her waist but she couldn't stop looking around. Trying to see where John was, wondering which aisle he was hiding out in and how close to them he was going to try and get. Every time a person came close to their checkout line, (Y/n) pushed herself into Jake until she was almost forcing him back into the counter. Each person passing by made her shudder and wince and coil in on herself.

She wanted to go home. She wanted to go home and lock the door and feel safe because right now, all she felt was vulnerable and observed.

She couldn't have been more relieved when they were done and the trolley was packed up again. She felt Jake's arm bind tightly around her waist while his left hand held the trolley and they headed out the shop.

Her cheek leaned against Jake's arm and she stayed tucked up into his side, but as they headed into the car park, (Y/n) couldn't help it. She had to look around. She had to glance behind them to reassure herself that John wasn't following after them. That he wasn't about to come out here and try to follow them home or make some kind of scene.

She wasn't sure what he was trying to achieve by following and calling her like this. If he was trying to frighten her then it was working wonders, but he wasn't going to get much out of this by following her around. (Y/n) would end up needing to call the police on him again and he might get a jail sentence this time. That wouldn't do him much good.

A whimper flooded past her lips and her steps faltered when she glanced towards the shop entrance.

John had followed them out.

(Y/n) stopped walking, feeling rooted to the spot as her hands fisted around the trolley and she leaned forward until the handlebar was pressing down into her abdomen.

She felt sick. She wanted to go home. She wanted security to somehow understand the situation and drag John back inside the shop for a talk. She just wanted him to go away and leave her alone. Why was that so much to ask?

"Go get in the car."

(Y/n)'s hands barely worked when Jake pulled one hand free from the trolley and dumped the car keys into her palm.

Her eyes flooded with worry and she looked up at him with a panic-stricken expression and her jaw hanging loose. She fisted the keys into her palm until they started to cut against her skin and she looped both arms around Jake's tense bicep, trying to pull him into her because she had no idea what he was going to do.

"Jake-"

"Go to the car; I don't want him anywhere near you." His free hand cupped the back of her neck and he pressed his lips to her flushed temple. Jake stayed there for a few seconds, breathing in her scent to try and calm himself down and stop (Y/n) from going into a panic attack. He could feel each shallow breath she took fanning against his throat and her trembling body was swaying and leaning more and more into him.

"W-what are you going to do?" (Y/n) almost dreaded to ask and she didn't dare look up at Jake as she spoke.

"I don't know yet."

His fingers brushed across the base of her neck but when his eyes glanced to the right, he felt like a fire was burning within his chest and setting his heart ablaze. John was aiming their way, much faster than he had been a minute ago.

Unravelling from (Y/n), Jake gave her and the trolley a nudge to get her behind him and more towards the car. If she got in the car and put the lock on then she would be completely safe and that was what Jake wanted. He didn't want John to get within five feet of (Y/n); he didn't know what he would do.

When she shakily hurried towards the car, Jake turned on his heels and aimed for the other man heading their way. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and his eyes squinted, zooming in on John like he was back up in his plane, locking onto a target to drop a bomb onto.

Once they were face to face, Jake uncurled his hands and planted his palms down on John's chest to give him a rough shove backwards. He revelled in how the other man stumbled and his feet skidded against the concrete to regain his balance again.

"Alright, what do you think you're doing?"

"What?"

The way John scrunched his nose and sneered over at Jake made Jake grunt and raise his shoulders high. This wasn't a game and Jake wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what John had been doing, but he wanted to know why and he wanted him to stop. Now.

"Following her around. I know what you've been doing, the silent calls, following her around town, all of it. And it stops now. Fuck off and leave her alone."

Leaning back, Jake folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head to one side as he watched the emotions wash over John's face in waves. Surprise, realisation, shock, panic. Everything flooded his eyes and caused his expression to momentairely slacken before he regained his posture again.

His arms tensed, his hands curled into fists and he took a step closer and leaned his face towards Jake with a menacing look in his eyes. That look might have frightened others, but not Jake. He wasn't intimidated by someone who thought scaring and stalking his ex was a power trip.

Jake would show him what actual power was, and how very little of it John truly possessed.

"Or what?" John rose a brow and managed a small smile that dampened when a cocky grin plastered across Jake's face.

He watched the way Jake's arms dropped from his chest and in less than five seconds, Jake reached out and grabbed him. His hands fisted in John's shirt just over his collar bone and he yanked him forward, tugging him off balance until the toes of his shoes were scraping the floor and his knees bent forward to try and stabilise himself.

Both his hands curled around Jake's wrists to try and make him relent, but Jake didn't feel the touch. He didn't care about the few people starting to murmur and pause packing their cars in favour of watching, anticipating whether or not a fight was going to break out in the car park.

All he cared about was the look of panic lighting up John's eyes and making sure that his message got through to this creep.

"Or I'll have to break you." Jake's smile turned sickly sweet and he yanked on John's collar to pull him that much closer until their noses were almost touching. "Stop calling her, stop following her and hanging around her work. You back the Hell away from (Y/n) or it'll be me following you around and believe me, if you piss me off I'll render you useless."

When he received no response, Jake let go of John's shirt and gave him a shove. He dropped his hands down to his sides but kept them curled into tense fists, just in case he had to throw a punch to show this idiot that he was being deadly serious.

"There's a reason they call me Hangman. Wanna find out why?"

[peachdues]

WISH

Compass one-shot • bad boy!Sanemi Shinazugawa x f!Reader

A tooth-rottingly sweet one-shot honoring my sweet boy’s birthday.

This takes place a few months into Sanemi x Reader’s relationship in Compass — the main story is still in the hot, sticky summer. So think of this like a flash-forward. Don’t worry if you’re not fully caught up — no real spoilers here!

CW: 6k • MDNI • mostly sickeningly sweet fluff but enough allusions/references to these horny idiots’ very active sex life • some references to gang violence (not descriptive) • swearing • abuse of cake

COMPASS MASTERLIST

Good birthday?

The two words sit on his home screen, a notification labeled with Genya’s name.

It takes Sanemi a moment to make sense of his brother’s text, until he spies the date reflected in the upper corner of his phone.

It’s November 29th.

For someone like Sanemi, dates are only important as far as they signal when something is due — and when something is late. The only dates that matter to him are the ones he’s told to care about; those hard deadlines that go unmet and require Sanemi to strap his crowbar to his back and his gun to his hip, so he can pay some poor bastard a visit.

Today is one of those deadlines, and Sanemi has a list of obligations to follow through on. But Genya’s text is a glaring reminder of the other thing today represents.

It’s his birthday.

Every year, his brother asks him the same thing — though, admittedly, Sanemi thinks the text is more a reminder rather than a happy wish of another year’s passing. Without Genya’s annual good birthday? Sanemi is fairly certain he’d forget November 29th held any significance to him at all.

I’ll be damned, Sanemi thinks, walking up the back entrance to an old computer parts shop — his first stop of the morning. Made it another year.

As unenthused Sanemi is about his birthday, he usually answered his brother with some pithy little acknowledgement. A biting Still alive, ain’t I? or, if he was feeling particularly festive, he’d simply send a thumb’s up, one that signaled his brother that Sanemi was working and didn’t want to risk smearing more blood and sweat across his phone screen than absolutely necessary.

This year, though — his twenty-second, he realizes after doing a quick bit of math — Sanemi’s not in any position to reply to his brother. Not yet, at least. So for now, his phone will have to sit in his pocket; his hands are about to be busy.

He’s got debts to collect.

—

Two hours later, Sanemi sits on his bike in an empty alleyway spliced between Market and Eastern Avenue.

In the last week or so, a strong front of arctic air had swept through the City, plunging it deep into the throes of winter. For a moment, Sanemi was grateful for the chill of the air; he always gets worked up after a collection, his limbs abuzz with hot blood and adrenaline. Cold air helped him settle down faster, cleared his mind so he could approach the next job with the same, violent precision.

Except, it’s now colder than he likes, but that itch still burns hot inside him. Hence, why Sanemi remains here, tucked away in this dark, forgotten alley, huddled over his bike. He’s got nothing to keep warm with but his worn leather jacket and the cigarette perched his lips, its end flowing a faint orange.

Tobacco-tinged smoke curls around his head, mixing with condensation of his breath as he exhales long and slow. The rush of nicotine is both a welcome distraction and extra sedative and finally, Sanemi feels his shoulders relax.

He’s only halfway through his cigarette, but he flicks it to the ground anyway. He’s not sure whether the burning in his throat is from the cold air or this particular bad habit of his, but it’s enough to kill his desire for anything more now that his edge has been sufficiently dulled. Still, he considers whittling himself down to the occasional cigarette is a marked improvement from the daily half pack he blazed through in his youth, before he discovered other outlets for his stress. Maybe he’ll be able to kick the habit all together by this time next year.

Assuming he lives long enough to see his next birthday, that is.

Sanemi’s in the middle of stuffing his lighter back inside his jacket pocket when he feels his phone buzz. He shouldn’t check it, not when his to do list still has one more name to cross off, but he’s already indulged in one bad habit this afternoon. Might as well go two-for-two.

And boy, is he glad he does when he spies the notification bearing your name.

Tell me you’re coming over tonight.

Sanemi’s lips twitch up with a smile he hasn’t been able to muster in days. Leave it to you to brighten his day in so few words.

What time you want me, sweetness?

A cutting gust of wind tears down the alley, whipping and tearing through the layers of his clothes. Any other time, Sanemi would simply hunch over the clutch of his bike and speed off, thinking only of someplace that wasn’t outside.

Now, he’s got you to look forward to.

Your reply arrives a few seconds later. Got a few errands to run so I’m closing up early. Owner can suck it. It’s cold.

It is, Sanemi mentally agrees, and he feels a rush of relief that closing nearly means you’ll be home — or close enough to it — before dark. The uptick in violence through the City has crept too close to your neighborhood for his comfort, and Sanemi already fucking hates you walking home in the dark without him as it is. The season’s shortened days only makes that particular anxiety of his worse.

Thank the fucking stars you’re less inclined to weather the arrival of winter than he is.

It’s a date, beautiful. He texts back before pocketing his phone. He cups his hands around his mouth and huffs, willing his breath to unfreeze his fingers enough to grip his bike’s clutch.

Another torrent of wind rips through the alley, but this time, it brings with it the first snow of winter, pelting his face with fat, cold flakes.

Sanemi tilts his face up toward the sky and grins. It is a sharp, feral thing, full of teeth and challenge. Good. Let it snow as hard as it wants; let it suffocate the City under a thick blanket of white. He wouldn’t care; Sanemi can’t think of a way better to warm up than by crawling under the covers with you. Maybe he’ll even treat himself and convince you to sleep in with him tomorrow. It’s been a few days since he last had the chance to see you. While he knows better than to be a betting man, he’d wager his odds of keeping you in bed were pretty good.

Huffing nice, twice more on his hands and Sanemi starts his bike, its motor roaring to life underneath him. His fingers are still stiff, but he can at least grip his clutch enough to steer it. No doubt the icy sting of the wind will freeze his hands in place, but he’ll worry about how to unstick himself later.

For now, he still has work to do.

In the northwest corridor of the City is a port marina that harbors a smattering of small house boats. It’s inside one of these drafty little boats where his next target hides, no doubt relying on the sudden arrival of winter to trick his creditors into looking for him elsewhere.

That ruse might have worked if anyone else other than Sanemi had been tasked with hunting him down. Unfortunately for him, his name fell in Sanemi’s lap, and now he’s going to have to play host to some very unpleasant company.

Slowly, Sanemi treads his bike to the end of the alley, eyes squinted against the wind and the snow, sweeping the street for any unsuspecting travelers. Finding nothing but the odd plastic bag being whipped and tossed down the sidewalk, Sanemi kicks his bike into gear.

As soon as he gets this job over with, he’ll get to see you.

The engine revs, and then Sanemi is thundering down the street, a renewed warmth spreading through his chest that even the biting cold of November can’t dampen.

—

It’s just after dark when Sanemi pulls up to your apartment, quickly killing the motor on his bike. He scans the dark alleyway behind your complex once, twice, before he glances up at the series of windows. Once satisfied that there are no unwanted eyes tracking his movements, Sanemi makes his way to the building’s side entrance, and begins his steady climb up the stairs.

He twirls his key to your place around his finger. God, he can’t wait to get kick his boots off, strip down to his sweater, and climb into bed with you. Maybe you’ll let him poach off your neighbor’s cable satellite again, and that way, he can find you a movie to half-pay attention to. Or, maybe you’ve snuck away another handful of advanced release copies from work, and the two of you can get to work reading and reviewing them. Either way, Sanemi is ready for the calm he only feels when he’s with you; he’s ready to relax.

The first thing he notices when he steps into your apartment is the smell of something burning.

“Motherfucker —“ he hears your vicious snarl from the kitchen right as something clatters to the floor. “One more fucking thing go wrong, I dare you —“

Calm is not on the agenda, it seems.

The air inside your studio is hazy with smoke, enough that it tickles the back of his throat. Hastily, Sanemi pushes your door shut before it can spill into the hallway and tempt one of the building’s ancient fire alarms. The last thing he wants is to summon the City’s finest and tip them off that a high profile gang member likes frequenting this neighborhood. Or the reason why.

“It’s me.” He calls out, crossing through your living room to crank open one of the arched windows behind your bed. Cold air floods your apartment, the winter wind chasing out the thickest of the smoke into night. “Baby?”

No answer; only more furious clanging and a particularly fierce “oh, fuck you.”

Cautious, Sanemi pokes his head into your small kitchenette. “Y/N?”

He’s not sure what he expected, but he can’t say he’s prepared for the sight of you, standing in front of your oven, hands on your hips and your foot tapping irritably on the floor. A cooling tray lays by your feet, and you don’t seem to be in any hurry to collect it; not when you’re too busy glowering down at your stove.

Sanemi’s eyes follow yours, and he finds what he presumes is the source of the stench. The worst of the smoke rolls off something sitting on your stove, though it’s too black for Sanemi to even guess what it’s supposed to be.

You whirl around and Sanemi has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

There’s flour on your cheek and dusted all down your front, along with other smears and stains of beige — batter of some sort, if he had to guess, given the cluttered mess on your counter of used mixing bowls and measuring cups. Your hair is a mess, puffed up and frizzed out from the smoke, framing a face scrunched up in pinched fury.

All things considered, you look pretty damn adorable, but he isn’t about to tell you that. The block of kitchen knives you rarely touch are too close within your reach for his comfort.

So, Sanemi takes the pragmatic approach and casually folds his arms across his chest. He offers with a measured nod of his head toward your oven. “I thought we talked about you cookin’ without supervision.”

For all the grief he’d given you about your inability to make anything more substantive than cereal, Sanemi learned rather quickly it was the most you could be trusted with. Once, you’d tried to show off your culinary skills by making him ramen, only for you to stick the dried noodles in your microwave without water. You hadn’t even noticed the acrid smell of something burning until he pointed it out, and by then, it was too late. It was only after he’d thrown the smoking bowl of scorched, blackened noodles into your sink that he hotly declared you were not to use any appliance in your kitchen while by yourself.

He’d thought you’d agreed to that ban but, as he peers over your shoulder to inspect whatever it is that’s about to set off your fire alarm, Sanemi grimly realizes the two of you are not on the same page.

“I wasn’t cooking, I was baking.” You snap, as though the distinction matters. You yank an oven mitt off one hand and snatch a loose fork from the counter, jamming it right into the smoldering center of whatever the hell it is you’ve tried to make. It pops and sags beneath the stab of the fork, more steam hissing out of the wound you’ve opened in its surface.

You hold the fork up for inspection and your eyes widen with outrage. “How is it burnt on the outside and fucking raw on the inside —?”

Sanemi glances at your oven settings and raises an eyebrow. “‘Cuz you have it set to five hundred — didn’t even know ovens could go that high.”

You chuck the fork into the kitchen sink with more force than necessary. “I was trying to get your stupid cake done before you got here. I wanted you to be surprised!”

He blinks. “What cake?”

“Your birthday cake!” You rip the other oven mitt from your hands scrunching it up before throwing it to the counter in defeat. “It’s your birthday, and I didn’t leave the store ‘til late, so I had to rush to get it done because I couldn’t swing a present other than this stupid cake!” You jab a finger toward the blackened pan still smoking on the stove. “And I couldn’t even do that!”

Sanemi’s eyes widen and for a moment, he can’t remember to blink.

All he can do is stare.

As much as he’s tried to forget them, there were a handful of November 29ths that had stuck with him over the years; a wad of chewing gum cemented to his memory that he couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried scraping it away.

His fifth birthday was spent clinging to his mother’s arm, begging her not to leave him alone in that dinky, unheated shoebox where they lived. His eyes had been teary, and he hated that he was acting like a crybaby, but he didn’t want his Ma to go — didn’t want to be left alone. He wanted her to scoop him up in her arms, to hum fragments of lullabies into his hair as she curled over him beneath their threadbare blankets, desperate for her body heat to sink into her son and keep him warm.

But it was winter, and Sanemi needed something to eat, so Shizu, heavily pregnant, had to go work.

She returned the next day with a lukewarm fast food hamburger Sanemi couldn’t stomach eating. Not when his mother came home sporting a new black eye, so dark and purple that not even her paper thin smile could dull her obvious wince, or the shadowy bruises peppered along her too-thin arms.

He spent his eighth birthday scavenging for spare coins dropped between the sagging, stained cushions of the old man’s broken down furniture.

Genya was nearly three and crying, his belly aching with a hunger he didn’t understand. Their mother was dead, and no one knew how to care for them except for Sanemi, and he’d been desperate; enough so that he’d clawed at the broken wooden couch slats until his numb fingers turned raw; bloody.

Because it was snowing and cold and Kyogo had left his sons at home in the dark, unheated apartment with nothing to eat.

He’d found enough loose change to justify running down to his neighbor’s place, and the old man had been kind enough to give him a packet of stale instant noodles. No seasoning packets, but the Shinazugawa boys had been too hungry to mind.

The only candles he had to mark the day were the mismatched stumps scrounged out of some cluttered drawer. His birthday wish — the very first one he’d ever made — a feeble plea that come December, Kyogo wouldn’t waste the month’s electric bill on booze his sons couldn’t even drink to keep warm. Winter in the Silo was harsh enough.

But December came and went, heralding in harsh winds and thick sheets of ice, and the apartment never once turned warm.

Sanemi never made another birthday wish again.

When he turned ten, Genya brought him home a tiny green race car, no doubt swiped from the basket of loose toys that sat next to the cashier at the nearby corner store. The paint was chipped, and one of the wheels had a tendency to stick whenever Sanemi skated it over the kitchen’s cracked linoleum, but it was a toy, and Sanemi hadn’t had one of those before. So, he ruffled his brother’s hair and the two spent the night rolling the car back and forth to one another across the floor, giddy with that childlike innocence they never got to keep come sunrise.

The corner store it came from closed not long after his birthday, its owner having been dragged out sometime in the night by hooded men, face too swollen and mouth too bloodied to scream.

Not that anyone would’ve helped, anyway. Not here.

Sanemi still has the car, though. It’s since lost a wheel, and the paint has nearly faded away, but it sits in his window sill; a prized token of the boy he’d never been.

For his fifteenth birthday, Sanemi’s lucky ass got not one, but two presents: a broken rib and a black eye. Courtesy of Kyogai, a sleazy had-been in the Corps’ ranks, whose penchant for downers meant he never had enough money to pay his dues to the Corps. Sanemi, a junior at the time, had been sent to collect money Kyogai refused to cough up, and in his youthful arrogance, thought he could simply strong-arm the Corps’ payment back.

That was when he learned never to get between a junkie and their fix — especially once withdrawal set in.

Sanemi returned the birthday generosity on a cold day in January, with his crowbar to Kyogai’s kneecaps. Rumor was he still couldn’t walk without a cane. But he never tried his bullshit with Sanemi again, and he thought that was probably the best gift of all.

So no, Sanemi can’t say he expects much out of his birthdays.

“No one’s ever made me a birthday cake before.”

It’s a breathless sort of admission, one that he’d probably be embarrassed about making if he wasn’t so caught off guard.

His admission monetarily stuns you into silence, and he almost feels ashamed. But you quickly recover and instead offer only a brittle laugh. “Yeah, well. Fucked that up for you, I guess.”

You finally look at him and Sanemi is startled by the tears rapidly lining your eyes.

“It’s just a cake, baby,” Sanemi soothes, hands reaching for you. “And today’s just a day. ‘S no big deal.”

Another great sniff. “It is a big deal!”

Sanemi is all too used to never having and not being allowed to want, so accepting what others want or try to give doesn’t exactly come easy to him. But the sight of you, nearly reduced to tears over the scorched disaster you’d tried desperately to make into something worth marking the day with has him reevaluating twenty-two years’ worth of trained indifference.

Beneath your frustration is clear upset with the situation. Because, you tried.

Sure, Sanemi’s birthdays passed without the usual triumvirate of cake-ice cream-presents he supposes other kids got. Frankly, he didn’t quite see the appeal of it anyway, but that may have been because Sanemi hadn’t known to miss what he never had. November 29th was just a day, after all; the mark of another year gone by without him taking a bullet to the head or having his body dumped in some faraway hole. The watery sun that rose that morning was no different all the others he’d managed to cheat his way into seeing. To him, it’s insignificant.

But not to you. For some reason, you don’t think you’ve given him enough.

Months of being together, and he still hasn’t figured out how to make you understand that he doesn’t need any grand gestures from you. It’s enough that you continue allowing him into your home, your bed, your life; that you soothe his fragmented heart, and chase away the cloud of numbness always lurking over his shoulder with one of your sweet smiles.

He doesn’t want for anything because he already has everything in you.

But you still want to give him more.

God, he doesn’t deserve you. And he certainly doesn’t deserve the tears swimming in your eyes or the frustration that weighs down your shoulders.

Sure, he doesn’t really give a damn about his birthday, but he sure as hell gives several about you, and your defeat is not something he’ll tolerate.

Sanemi fishes his set of keys from his pocket. “C’mon,” he nods toward the door. “We’re going to the store.”

—

“It’s not right,” you sniff an hour later as you hand him an oven mitt. “You shouldn’t be making your own birthday cake.”

“We’re making,” Sanemi corrects, seamlessly pulling the hot pan from your oven and placing it atop your stove to cool. “The present ain’t the cake, anyway.”

He tosses the mitt to your counter and turns to you, eyeing the can of frosting in your hand, one you absently stir a butter knife into, unsure of how else to help.

With a faint smile, Sanemi swipes his finger through the top layer of sprinkled sugar, dolloping it right on the tip of your nose. “You are.”

You roll your eyes, swiping your finger through the small blob of icing and bringing it to your mouth. As you suck the tip of your finger clean, you peer over his arm, nose wrinkling as you as you look down at the golden brown surface of the very much baked-through cake. “Still, box cake mix?”

“A cake’s a cake.”

The kitchen is teeming with the warm, comforting scent of sweet vanilla, one that spreads through the rest of your studio, chasing away the last remnants of burnt confectionary which lingered after your earlier baking fiasco. Boxed mix or not, you have to know that plan b smells leagues better than plan a, even if that means your ego has to take the hit.

“If you say so,” you grumble, shouldering him out of the way as you scoop out a glob of frosting, ready to slap it across the cake’s surface.

“Not yet,” Sanemi corrects, gently catching your wrist before your knife can make contact. “It’s gotta cool first, or else that’s just gonna melt all over the place.”

Your mouth twists into an annoyed grimace. “That seems stupid.” You gripe, stabbing the knife back into the canister of icing, right in its center.

“Chemistry, sweetheart. Didn’t you pay attention?”

“I slept through most of chem back in the day.”

That surprises him. “Weren’t you a goody two shoes?”

You snort. “Not when it came to science. Or math, for that matter. Always got my lowest grades in science and math.”

Sanemi rolls his eyes. “And a low grade for you would’ve been —?”

This time, you drop your head, suddenly sheepish. “Anything below an A.”

Of course. “Damn, wish I’d known.” Sanemi smirks. “Maybe I could’ve made bank tutoring instead of runnin’ around, bein’ a delinquent.” At the skeptical raise of your brow, he scoffs. “What? You think a blossoming criminal couldn’t also score a few As?”

Math had always come easily to him, though that may have been out of necessity than raw talent. Knowing numbers meant he could tally up debts quickly in his head and calculate the exact interest owed, which meant less time wasted wherein his target might be able to get one over on him. Not once had he ever finished a job short-changed. That’s what made him so valuable to the Corps, even back then.

His academic success across the various fields of mathematics and science (which was math with more words thrown in), was just an added bonus.

“Still, though — tutoring?” You laugh. “Sorry — for some reason I can’t picture you meeting some poor kid in the library to go over formulas and equations. I can’t even imagine someone willing to ask you — I mean —“ you gesture to him, and Sanemi knows that’s explanation enough.

“I might’ve. Especially if a certain pretty girl had batted her lashes and asked me all nice and sweet.” Gently, he pushes your hair back over your shoulder, his eyes watching your breath hitch in your throat; the goosebumps that spread over your skin. Smirking, he leans in and presses his lips right below your ear. “Kinda like how you did last week — ‘cept, you were asking me to give you something then, weren’t you?”

The way your cheeks darken tell him you know exactly what he’s talking about.

It was him. Specifically, his cum; you’d begged for it, actually, your recurring chant of fill me up, fill me up, baby, please! sweeter than music to his fucking ears.

You turn to grab the can of icing, defiantly putting your back to him, if only to avoid having to look at the cocky set of his mouth.

Sanemi’s gloating isn’t over. It’s his birthday, after all. “You know I’m right.”

“Oh, shut up before I make you decorate your damn cake.”

Still grinning, he lets you shoo him from the kitchen. Sanemi plops himself onto your sofa and fishes your tv remote from between the cushions. He busies himself flipping through the handful of channels you get, finally landing on some pro baseball game he only watches with half-interest.

“Ready!” You call a few moments later, and Sanemi tosses the remote aside, the game, forgotten.

You hover in front of your counter, hands together twisting nervously. The moment he appears in the kitchen’s small entryway, you step aside, revealing the fruit of your shared labor.

“Happy Birthday, Sanemi.”

The cake is small and its edges are a little lopsided. The icing looks like it was applied the same way as wallpaper paste. A lone, green candle sits lit in the cake’s center, its flame bright and merry.

Sanemi’s never seen anything more appealing in his life.

“You have to make your wish,” you sternly remind him as he leans over the cake, his eyes glued to the candle. “And you can’t say it out loud.”

He watches the little flame dance and bend around the wick with soft wonder.

A birthday cake; his very own birthday cake.

There’s a part of him that hesitates to blow out the candle, too entranced by the way the little flame dances and bends around the wick. After all, the last time he’d made a wish, it hadn’t come true.

And yet, another part of him — that silly, hopelessly optimistic part he knows better than to indulge — wonders if perhaps his eight-year-old self’s wish hadn’t worked because he’d lit the candles for light and feeble warmth. They hadn’t been intended for celebration, and he certainly hadn’t had a cake to hold them.

Maybe that was part of the magic; the spell’s missing ingredients.

This time, maybe things will be different.

His wish is simple, if not a little selfish. But Sanemi thinks that birthdays might be the chance to be selfish, and he’s not making his wish out loud anyways, so maybe he can get away with this.

Sanemi closes his eyes and he wishes for time. Time with you. Time with Genya. As much as the universe will let him have.

That would be enough.

Sanemi blows out the candle.

“C’mere you,” he says roughly, reaching for you. He pulls you into his side and presses a kiss to your temple. “Thank you.”

Your arms wind around his middle. “You did most of the work.”

“You made it a birthday cake, though.” He lays his cheek atop your head. “You turned this whole damn day into somethin’ special. Thank you.”

Without you, Sanemi would never know what it felt like to have his own birthday cake or a candle to wish upon.

Neither of you of bother with plates or cutting slices; instead, you hand him another fork and the two of you dig right in.

At the first bite, Sanemi’s eyes slide shut. Cheap box cake has never tasted so fucking good.

“Not bad,” you say thickly through your own mouthful, leaning over your counter. Another bite is already loaded on your fork. “Wonder what mine would’ve tasted like.”

Sanemi swallows. “Like raw cake batter.”

You turn over your shoulder to stick your tongue out at him, not caring that your mouth is full, or for the crumbs that fall on the counter top.

You’re about to return to the cake when a smear of white catches his eye.

“Hold it.” Sanemi sets his fork down and catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger before you turn away. He tilts your face up, and smirks.

That’s when he leans in, flicks his tongue along your lower lip. He moans at the taste of sugar, the spare bit of icing left on your lip further sweetening the honey of your kiss, his mouth capturing yours.

Your moan rights everything in his world full of wrongs, your fork clattering to the counter.

The hand he keeps on your chin slides to the back of your neck, tilting your head; the other finds purchase at your hip, tugging you closer into him. It only takes a matter of seconds before Sanemi is drunk on your lips, the warmth of the evening liquid honey that pools in his stomach.

Your kiss tastes like cake and home.

He’d stay here all night if he could, but the fervor of your lips moving with his has quickly stolen his breath away. No matter how much he craves your kiss, his body demands air.

With a faint grunt, Sanemi breaks your kiss. The hand on the back of your neck remains firmly in place, keeping you close as Sanemi traces the slope of your nose with the tip of his. “You had icing on your lip. Had to fix it.”

Through his lowered lids, he can see the quickened rise and fall of your chest as you steady your own breathing; the flush in your cheeks. Your eyes are bright, however, illuminated with equal desire and challenge.

Your tongue flicks out to dampen your lower lip and Sanemi’s eyes narrow. “Maybe you should check for more.”

Fuck oxygen. His mouth is back on yours before you can finish your next inhale.

And then, he’s moving.

Though you’re walking backwards, you’re the one guiding him, your fingers hooked through his belt loops as you tug him through your kitchenette and out into the open space of your studio.

His groan vibrates into your mouth. Sanemi doesn’t have to open his eyes to know where you’re leading him; he’s treaded this very path to your bed too many times to count.

Oh, there’s plenty of time for this later, and he’ll happily indulge himself then. Besides, you’re even more sensitive in the mornings, and that means he’s guaranteed to coax two or three orgasms out of you with just his tongue before you both have to go to work in the morning, never mind what he’ll be able to do once he’s actually inside you. It’ll be worth holding off, for now.

But right now, his heart is too full, and tonight has been mending something inside of him he hadn’t known was broken. Something shy and curious, a remnant from the boy who might have secretly longed to know what it felt like to have a birthday mean something; to matter.

Still, he can’t resist fanning the fire a little, the hand on your hip sliding to your ass and squeezing, his fingers dangerously close to the dip in your thighs.

He lets you strip him down to his underwear and you to yours, since that’s how you prefer to sleep when not otherwise naked. Only when he feels your hand sliding down his bare abdomen does he still you, his fingers wrapping delicately around your wrist.

He feels your frown before he sees it. Cautious, your mouth breaks away from his and you lower yourself down from the tips of your toes.

A dent has notched itself between your eyebrows. “You don’t want —?”

Later, he’ll be sure to tell you that he wants you all the time — so much so that it might be a problem. But that’s not what tonight is about — not for him. For now, he can’t risk you discovering that he’s half-hard already; the second your hand finds him, he’ll be too erect to function, let alone think clearly.

He shakes his head. “Actually,” Sanemi hooks his arm around your waist and tugs you back against the bed, falling into your tower of pillows and blankets with you safely encased in his embrace. “I think I just wanna hold you, if that’s cool.”

Confusion flits briefly across your face before your eyes soften. “Of course. Don’t you know that birthdays mean you get whatever you want?”

He didn’t, but that doesn’t matter. Because this is why he loves you: you know, without him ever having to explain. You understand.

With a soft smile, Sanemi rolls to capture you under him, but braces himself above you long enough to allow you to sit up against the headboard. The moment you settle, Sanemi inches up beside you until he can rest his head on your stomach, his arm hugging your waist.

He swears he can hear your smile as you ask, “Happy?”

Exuberantly so; your body is soft in every way his isn’t, and warm. He’s in a heated, dimly lit apartment with no fear of the lights cutting out or the cold outside making his toes turn numb. The girl he loves, loves him back. Everything he hadn’t dared let himself wish for is now his, carding her beautiful fingers through his hair.

it’s almost perfect. Almost.

“Nah, I’ve got one more request.”

He leans over you and pulls a novel from the top of the stack that perpetually sits on your side of the bed, never shrinking. He hands it to you, meeting your inquisitive eyebrow with his smirk. “Read to me.”

He doesn’t care what book it is — whether it’s something he’s read before, or of a genre he isn’t all that into, it doesn’t matter. He just wants to hear you.

“A bedtime story? Really?” You tease, but you’re already flipping to the first page.

Content, Sanemi turns his face further into your stomach, burrowing harder into you. One hand still smoothing through his hair, you begin to read the prologue, pausing for dramatic effect where the passage calls for it. Slowly, the hours unfold as your voice weaves together the story — some high fantasy set in a distant world. Once upon a time, Sanemi would’ve wished he could dive into the pages of his book; anything to escape his reality.

Now, he can’t imagine being any place better than right here, with you.

—

It’s nearly midnight when Sanemi remembers Genya’s unanswered text still sitting in his inbox. Carefully, so as not to disturb you and your faint snoring, he untangles himself from you. One hand pats across the surface of your bedspread, searching for the small rectangle while the other gingerly removes the book still propped between your fingers. You’d made it about five chapters, your thumb still marking the page where you’d dozed off mid-passage.

Book in hand, he turns and tosses it on your threadbare rug, and it lands with a dull thump. He finds his phone near the foot of your bed. His eyes flick to you once to confirm that his gentle movements have not disturbed your well-earned rest.

Your mouth twitches with another light snore, and Sanemi smiles.

He clicks his phone to life, taking care to keep it turned away from you, mindful of the bright little screen. Quietly, he thumbs his answer to his brother. The moment he taps the send arrow, he tosses his phone back to the ground and reaches across the duvet for you once more.

A few hundred miles away inside a sleeping boys’ dormitory, under Zenitsu’s nasally snores and the odd, violent twitch from Inosuke, Genya’s phone buzzes from its place under his pillow.

Yeah. Good birthday.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS APPRECIATED!!

[blushblushbear]

Wrote a quick fic of @ren-054's Vitya and Nimh based off a drawing they did of them (and also cause I think they make a dang cute little couple!)

Mildly suggestive, most just sensual!

more under the cut!

At the start of it, Nimh was just trying to be more flexible. 

He wasn’t getting any younger and it was never too early to start trying to take care of your body; but given his heart condition, anything high impact or high cardio was out. 

He had attempted a yoga class but it was just too much! And all of that relaxing new wave zen music blasting while he was struggling did not help to relax him actually…

So on a weird whim, he took up a dance class.

It was beginner ballet. He knows that’s probably a bit weird but something about it called to him. He wasn’t about to drop it all and be a dancer or anything, but he was enjoying himself!

Actually, what he was really enjoying was his dreamy teacher with the dashing smile. It wasn’t why he joined or anything, or even why he stuck to it for months, but he had to admit the first time that elegant ray of sunshine beamed into the class he felt his knees get a little weak. And it didn’t hurt that the teacher was probably one of the most chill and encouraging people he’d ever met. Between his pretty face and charming personality;

Yeah, Nimh had to admit it, he had a little crush going. 

He’d never act on it of course, he’s way too much of a coward for that! But just being able to be around him once a week, to see him glide around swan as he watched over the class, to see that smile, to hear that voice– it got him through many a tough week.

And occasionally when he felt his hand on him– supporting his back, adjusting his stance, stretching his leg just a bit further– it was accompanied by the feeling of his heart leaping into his throat. 

Not that Vitya needed to know that.

Oh yeah, and his name was Vitya. Just when Nimh thought he couldn’t get more dreamy… 

He was trying to clear his head and focus on breathing as he stood there, eyes closed, bent over, back straight, feet in an awkward fourth position because he couldn’t handle fifth yet, one arm outstretched as gracefully as he could manage (which is to say, not really at all), while the other death gripped onto the balance bar above so that he didn’t fall flat on his face… again… 

“Your face is turning red again.” Vitya’s voice sounded so close, and when Nimh opened his eyes, he nearly jumped when he saw Vitya’s face just under his. And so so close… “You’re holding your breath again.” Vitya said with a bit of a pout, “You need to BREATHE.” He took a deep breath in to demonstrate, making it all look so easy as he practically folded himself in half to lower his face to meet Nimh’s. Nimh took in a deep breath, and exhaled it shakily, his limbs wobbling a little making him feel even more embarrassed than he already did. 

“Excellent!” He chirped, rising to a full stand with seemingly no effort at all. “Alright class, deep breath in–” a collective inhale, “and as we rise, exhale out! Good!” Nimh was grateful Vitya had sauntered on, so he wouldn’t catch how shakily he lifted his back, or how red his face still was– albeit for… different reasons. 

Even though he enjoyed himself, Nimh realized he hadn’t gotten much more flexible in the months he’d been coming to the class. He wondered why he hadn’t just been kicked out at this point. And when Vitya called to him at the end of class, for a brief moment, he worried he was about to be…

As the rest of the class filtered out for the day, Nimh and Vitya were left alone. 

“Hey,” Vitya began, his smile still sweet, but his eyes seemed a bit more concerned, “I’ve noticed you’re still having some trouble… This was my last class for the day and I was wondering– if you’re down to stay a few extra minutes, I’d really like to work with you one on one for a bit.”

Nimh screamed internally. 

It was bad enough he had to deal with his dumb little crush head on in the moments Vitya hovered around him, but having to do that ALONE. 

“I mean– if you don’t have the time today that’s fine…” 

His brain was scrambling, trying to find a way to say no, but as he looked at Vitya’s face (his stupidly handsome face, as it pouted at him, hand on a cocked hip and the other hand hooked against his other arm in a pose only a dancer standing idly would pull) he couldn’t find it in him to turn Vitya down. 

“N-no, I have a few minutes I could spare…” Nimh stuttered out. Vitya’s face was immediately beaming.

“Wonderful, let’s jump right into it then!” 

Within a few minutes Nimh was back standing at the bar, posing the same as he had earlier, only now he had Vitya’s full attention as he shakily lowered himself.

Vitya circled him as he bent over, eyes studying Nimh’s movements. 

“I know it’s hard for you,” Vitya began as he came up behind Nimh, “but you have to bend lower.” Nimh felt Vitya’s hand on his lower back and a chill rushed up his spin as Vitya began to gently push him lower. “That’s it…” Vitya cooed, hand slowly sliding up Nimh’s spine towards his shoulder blades, “bend further… remember to breathe…” Nimh could hear the smile in Vitya’s voice, but it felt… different… almost coy… and as Vitya leaned over him from behind, pushing Nimh further down, he wondered which was more inappropriate; this position, or the fact that having Vitya behind him with his hand on his back was putting the wildest images into his mind. 

Images of his hot dance instructor. Images of said instructor bending him over like this to have his way with him. Images of Nimh panting as Vitya, firm but gentle, gave him everything he had…

Nimh exhaled out shakily (though shaky for different reasons this time), closed his eyes, and tried to clear his head. His heart was pounding, and he was certain he was blushing from ear to ear. Vitya chuckled behind him. Nimh had never heard Vitya sound so playful, as the words,

“Good, very good…” escaped Vitya’s lips and made Nimh’s knees go a little weak. 

And then Vitya’s hand was gone.

Nimh blinked his eyes open, suddenly remembering where he was. 

“And now, rise up slowly.” Vitya said cheerily, circling around again and landing towards Nimh’s front. Nimh rose up slowly, quietly cursing how all it took was one dreamy dance instructor to turn him into a pervert apparently. What had he even been thinking? He closed his eyes, and bit his lip embarrassed. 

Vitya smiled, cocking his head slyly at Nimh. 

“Your hips aren’t square enough.” Vitya said in a very matter of fact manner, “You need to keep your hips straight.” He walked over to Nimh again, coming around behind him once more as he set his hands on Nimh’s hips, moving them a bit forcefully into the correct posture. “See, like this, they need to stay like this as you move. They’re perfectly fine as you go down, but once you come back up they’re all tilted.”

Nimh heard Vitya’s voice, but he took in none of the words he said. The moment Vitya’s hands were on his hips, Nimh’s head went all fuzzy.

“Try it once more.” Vitya instructed.

“Wh–huh?”

“Bend over again, and this time try and keep your hips squared.” 

Oh GOD.

With a gulp, Nimh began to bend over once more. 

“That’s it. Nice and steady…” one of Vitya’s hands was on his back again, “Remember to keep your back straight. Yes, just like that!” 

Yep. Nimh was bent over in front of his sexy ass dance teacher while said sexy ass dance teacher was behind him with one hand on his hip and the other on his back.

And Nimh was internally screaming again. 

He couldn’t tell if this was a dream or a nightmare but wow was it sure fantasy fodder for later… 

He tried to not think about it as his cheeks burned and he rose back up slowly.

“There you go,” Vitya continued, hand still on Nimh’s back, guiding him back up just as steadily as he lowered him, “And then– you’re back up! Shoulders square, hips square,” Vitya’s hand smoothed to Nimh’s front as he pulled Nimh back a bit, “back straight.” Nimh chanced a nervous glance at Vitya whose face was so close to his, smile all beam and eyes focused in on Nimh’s face. “Perfect.” 

Nimh stood there frozen for a moment, until a small gasp made him realize he had stopped breathing again. 

“O-oh… Uh… I…”

“Once more.”

“Huh? Oh! U-uh…”

With Vitya’s hands still resting on him, Nimh began to slowly lower again. Vitya still guided him, but more lightly than before. And before Nimh knew it, he was doubled over in front of his teacher again.

“And back up,” Vitya’s hand slid up Nimh’s side, guiding him to rise again, this time stopping a little up his arm. “Excellent. And back down,” Vitya’s thumb that rested at Nimh’s hip gave a little push and once again Nimh lowered. It was starting to feel a lot easier with Vitya guiding him. His hands helping to ease Nimh into the movements. He didn’t mean to, but he felt himself give his body over to Vitya’s control. It was forceful and gentle, bright yet sly, demanding yet sweet, and most of all– playful.

After a few more bends, Nimh eased back against Vitya again, stretching up and draping himself over his form as he panted lightly. His cheeks were flushed, eyes half lidded and mind hazy as he looked back at Vitya, who greeted him with a warm yet knowing smirk.

“There you are. See, you were practically in half on that last one.” Nimh was only half paying attention to Vitya’s words. His body felt so closely pressed against his, Nimh’s eyes on Vitya’s lips with a sudden urge to kiss him. Vitya noticed… “Nimh… you… you like me don’t you?” Nimh’s eyes went back to Vitya’s, lips pressing into an embarrassed line. Nimh couldn’t say it, but his expression answered for him. Vitya chuckled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you out like that. I just…” his hand slid up Nimh’s arm and took his hand, never breaking eye contact as he lowered it and giving it a small kiss. “I’ve noticed.” Vitya winked.

Nimh snapped back to reality, whole face turning red as he took a step away from Vitya, hands covering his mouth and eyes wide. 

Vitya cocked his head curiously.

“Sorry… was that not alright?” he asked, eyes soft with concern.

“No… I MEAN– NOT ‘NO’ NO! NO! I MEAN, YES! I MEAN—” Nimh’s eyes darted around the room trying to get a grip, “what I mean to say is…” he paused, looking over at Vitya. He let out a small sigh, “I was just… surprised… is all… that was fine… b-better than fine actually…”

Vitya smiled, stepping closer to Nimh, who was still a stammering mess, but he didn’t step back. Vitya leaned in close, took Nimh’s hand again, and gave it another kiss.

“Good. I really was hoping to keep helping my favorite student.” the word ‘favorite’ dripped out of his mouth like honey and with another playful smirk he leaned in closer and whispered against Nimh’s ear “Though next time, I would like to give a more… private lesson.”A shiver ran up Nimh’s spine. Vitya pulled back and, with a look that was a mix of sly and puppy dog, asked, “Is that alright?” 

Nimh nodded like crazy in response.

“Wonderful!” Vitya beamed. He pulled his phone out, and with a playful smile said, “Give me your number, and we’ll work on some real flexibility together.”

[myokk]

I wanted to share the tattoo I did yesterday!!

I really enjoyed the process🥹🫶 My “normal” art is generally a lot more detailed and time-consuming than these fanarts…something I genuinely LOVE is just spending lots of time focusing on the small details & forgetting everything else.

I’m overall really happy with how this turned out, I’ve been practicing A LOT😳 but even so, pork skin isn’t the same as a living, breathing human. I think this design might have been a BIT too complicated to be my first one but oh well…I learned a lot and pushing myself off the deep end is always how I learn best😆😆😤🙏

[ladymarlin]

Hahaha! Yes! More of them always!

[california-112]

Why is EVERYTHING happening this week lol.

[tacit-semantics]

Being very brave and starting a (supposed.) one skein shawlette with a labelless ball of yarn inherited from my grandmother this can surely only end well

[calyroco]

The best and worst part of being an adult with your own income is realizing you can buy any of that stuff you want at any time and you don't have to go through a third party for permission. You are the only one standing between you and the consequences of a shopping addiction

[creations-by-chaosfay]

A thing I pre-ordered months ago has shipped!

What's the thing?

Keepsake Quilting, and several other quilt companies/stores, put a sort of gift box together with fabric, notions, patterns, and gift cards in them. You don't know what you're getting, making it a surprise. I have never purchased one because they're expensive. This was 50% upfront, 50% when shipped, for a total of $150. Considering how much is in it, and what reviews were left the last several years, it's a steal. Plus, I wanna treat myself after having such a stressful and unpleasant year.

My mom and one of aunts have ordered such boxes in the past, but according to my mom, they're disappointing because she has so many of the things in the package, or no use for many of them. Rulers (some of which cost $30), needles, rotary cutters and extra blades (blades can be $10/each, new cutters up to $50), fabric marking tools (chalk pencils, disappearing ink, etc), precut fabric collections (jelly rolls can be $80, fat quarter collections up to $100 depending on number of FQs), and yardage ($12.99-$21.99/yard). She's been disappointed by "ugly" fabric too many times.

I, on the other hand, have significantly fewer tools. I make things for people to buy, and some folks love fabric I cannot stand (like x-mas and patriotic prints). There have been fabrics I consider well and truly hideous, and those I list in my shop or sell to people here. One person's trash is another's treasure, right? I've met people who think pastels are ugliest things to have ever existed. I think baby pink and green military camouflage look fantastic together, as well as turquoise and light hemp brown or terracotta and peacock blue. My mom finds them hideous. I think pink and any shade of brown look terrible together, or red and khaki (likely from working at Target and seeing is everywhere). Again, personal taste.

If any of you ever fancy treating me to one of these random collections of fabric and/or notions, feel free to do so. They're the sort of surprise I enjoy (that and people purchasing my work, especially from my shop). Sure, there are things that may he of no use to me, but others can use them. Nothing goes to waste.

This package will be arriving on November 18th, and has me giggling with excitement!

[iirulancorrino]

They reached the corner and turned into Pushkin Street. I stood there clutching the watch, alone; and suddenly, with a distinctness such as I had never before experienced, I saw the columns of the Municipal Building soaring up into the heights, the gas-lit foliage of the boulevard, Pushkin's bronze head touched by the dim gleam of the moon; saw for the first time the things surrounding me as they really were: frozen in silence and ineffably beautiful.

"Di Grasso," Isaac Babel

[malcolmreeds]

guess who just got a migraine diagnosis 😞

[evermoreal]

price would be strangely possessive over his assistant.

referring to her as things that really aren’t work appropriate at all. “swee’eart,” “dolly,” “sugar.” once, a “baby” slipped through his teeth, but he was switching the subject before she could really catch on.

it’s hard to pinpoint exactly when it was he started tacking “my” in front of his pet names. “my angel,” “my love.”

even when she wasn’t in the room — it was impossible to know he was talking about a colleague with the way he spoke about her. “my woman’s always on my case abou’ shit like that — cholesterol levels, sugar intake. fuckin’ bullshit, but i do it to make ‘er happy.” or “can’t stay long, lads — got my lady waitin’ on me.”

in the summer months, her skirts get a bit shorter and her tops a bit tighter. he doesn’t blame her, the AC is shit and the heat can be suffocating. what does bother him, though, is the way his men ogle her as they stroll past her desk. how they’re coming up with excuses to visit her throughout the day.

it’s an easy enough fix. “why don’t ye come work in my office for the day, lovey?” he’s already collecting her paperwork. “keep an old man company, would ye? i’ve got a nice little fan too, keep ye nice an’ cool.”

though the job came with benefits, perhaps more than an assistant should be getting, price didn’t think it was enough. when her phone started to slow and the screen cracked, he left a new one on her desk. didn’t bother mentioning it came out of his paycheque. if she complains about her outfit — all my good clothes are in the wash — he’ll take her shopping, doesn’t let her worry about the totals. and, hey, if they end up at a lingerie shop, no one has to know, right? he’s just being a good boss. it’s only crossing a few boundaries when he gets her to model it for him in the fitting rooms. when she disappears behind the curtain, john adjusts himself in his slacks — it’s a natural reaction. on that note, it would make too much of a fuss if he were to correct the worker when she asks if his wife needs any help.

when day turns to night and she’s refusing price’s suggestion of hitting another shop, he pulls into a nearby restaurant, insists on treating her to a glass of wine to end the night. finding out she’s a lightweight is a pleasant discovery — two glasses in and her skin is warm to the touch, she’s giggling and hanging onto his every word. he likes her like this, he decides — but it’s not safe to leave her alone. no, she should stay with him tonight. another few sips and she’s agreeing, changing into one of her new lingerie sets and falling into john’s bed, dozing off with his hand splayed over her tummy, beard tickling the back of her neck.

it’s been too long since he’s had a woman in his life. his wires have gotten a bit crossed. you can’t blame him, can you?

edit! here’s more <3

[the-cimmerians]

In 2022, Massachusetts residents voted in favor of a Fair Tax ballot measure to extra-super-duper-tax those earning more than one million dollars a year and to spend the revenue from that on education and transportation initiatives.

Naturally, there were the naysayers. Those who warned that all of the state’s rich people would move away to their very own Galt’s Gulch or whatever, if they were forced to pay a four percent tax on anything they make over a million dollars. The implication there, of course, is that raising this tax would, ironically, lead to the state collecting less revenue overall.

That didn’t happen! In fact, the state has already raised $1.8 billion in revenue so far for this fiscal year — which is $800 million more than they expected, and they still have a few months to go. The vast majority of the surplus will go to a fund that legislators can use for one-time investments in various projects.

The revenue has already been invested in universal school lunches, in more scholarships to public colleges, in improvements to the MBTA, and to repair roads and bridges. These are all things that will improve the quality of life for everyone, including the “ultra-rich” who happen to live there. The fact is, it’s just nice to live in a society that is more civil, that takes care of its people and its children and that fixes things when they are broken.

[ ]

Elizabeth Warren, Pramila Jayapal, and others have introduced bills in the House and Senate for a nationwide millionaire’s tax of two percent — two cents on the dollar for all wealth exceeding $50 million and six percent on all wealth over a billion dollars. This would bring in an estimated $3.75 trillion over 10 years, which we could use to improve the lives of all US citizens. We could have so many nice things!

It’s time to stop living in fear of what millionaires and billionaires — who have made their fortunes off of roads we’ve paid for and employees we’ve paid to educate — will do or where they will move if forced to pay their fair share. That’s no way to live. If they have some place better to go that won’t force them to contribute to improving their community? Let them. Other people will come along and be more than happy to pick up where they left off. But more than likely, they won’t do jack shit because they’re rich, and if they wanted to live someplace else, they’d be there by now.

[davinawritings]

A Knotty Discovery

Pairing: Male Werewolf X Fem Chubby Human Reader

Warnings: Smut, Penetration, Knotting, Sex toys, Ruined Orgasm, Creampie

Summary: You come home to find that your extremely attractive Werewolf roommate has found your collection of knotted dildos.

🖤❤️💕💕❤️🖤

When you walked into your apartment, you were surprised not to see your roommate sitting on the couch in the living room. It was Sunday night, which was your traditional movie night together. Both of you worked but always ensured you were home by five on Sundays. Since you both had Mondays off, you made Sunday your weekly pizza and movie night, staying up late and enjoying each other’s presence.

Decker and you have lived together for over a year now, and honestly, you love it. The only problem was your small, well maybe not so small, crush on him. You couldn’t help it, though; he is just so amazing. He is the exact opposite of you. You are human, and he is a werewolf. While you are short and chubby, he is massively tall and made of muscle. You are soft and gentle, while he is hard and strong.

You cherish movie nights where he wraps an arm around you and pulls you close. You love leaning against his large body and nuzzling into his soft fur. He always manages to brighten your day and make you laugh. He takes care of you and makes you feel love. Unfortunately, he has never expressed any romantic interest in you, so you try to be content with having him as a friend.

It’s already past five, and Decker is usually getting everything set up for movie night by now. You set the pizza you brought home on the counter, thinking he must be running late. You head for your bedroom and decide to take the extra time to put on your cute pajamas.

You certainly had not been expecting to walk in and see Decker kneeling on the floor in front of your closet, your box of vibrators and dildos open in front of him. There are several knotted dildos on the floor beside him, and the largest one is gripped in his clawed hand. Your face heats up immediately, and you accidentally let out a small gasp at the sight.

The noise catches his attention, and his eyes immediately meet your own. You quickly look to the floor in embarrassment at his intense gaze. “Oh, no, pretty girl. Eyes on me. How long have you been hiding this? Hmm?”. You can’t seem to push any words out of your mouth, and you hear him moving because of your lack of response. You stand entirely frozen as he stops before you, using one hand to guide your eyes up to his.

“All these months, you have never shown any interest in monsters. The only male you went on a few dates with, being that loser human, and now I find all this. My adorable little human likes monster cock, well, werewolf cock specifically”, he says with a smirk. You try to pull away, your mortification at an all-time high at his words, but he doesn’t let you budge.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you realize how much I have been holding myself back, thinking you had no interest in a werewolf like me. From the moment I met you, I wanted you sitting on my knot. I wanted to hold your plush body in my claws and never let you go, but I thought you wanted a human male. I had to keep myself from ripping your clothes off every fucking day”. You let out a needy whimper at his words, and a smirk appeared on his face once again.

“Baby, when you wear those little pajama shorts, and I can see your thick thighs, all I can think about is holding them in my hands as I thrust my cock inside you over and over. And last Sunday, when you wore that cute little nighty for our movie night, I swear I was hard all night. All I wanted to do was bend you over the side of the couch and knot you all night long. Your body looks so fucking breedable, baby, and I just want to fill you every moment of every day” he finishes his last statement with a low growl, and it goes straight to your panties.

You wet your lips and reply, “I.. I have always wanted you, Decker. I just didn’t think you were interested in me, so I never said anything”. He shakes his head and says, “Baby, how could I not want you? Everything about you makes me want to claim you, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing, but first, you are going to show me exactly what you do with those toys over there.

You feel a twinge of embarrassment at the thought, but it is quickly overpowered by arousal and lust at the thought of him watching you. He gives you a quick pat as you make your way over to the toys and reach for your medium-sized dildo.

“The big one, sweetheart. I must ensure you are nice and stretched out when I take you. I’m a lot bigger than your little toys over there”, he tells you, his voice a low purr. You almost moan at his words, the excitement of being so filled making you crave him even more.

You slowly take off your clothing, wanting to tease him a bit. As your panties hit the floor, you see Decker take a big inhale and moan. You blush under his gaze, and he gives you his signature wolfish grin.

You place the large dildo on the floor, the suction cup base holding it in place. You kneel over it, lining its tip up with your wet entrance. You look at him as you slowly let your weight push you down on the thick dildo. His eyes don’t leave your slick cunt as he moves one of his hands to squeeze his cock over his pants. You felt your mouth salivating at the sight.

You reach halfway down when you rise up again, leaving just the tip inside you before dropping back down. You continue this until the knot presses against your entrance on each downward stroke. You moan as you watch his eyes bounce all around your body. The dildo feels so good, but his eyes on you feel even better. You release soft whimpers and moans, and you work your body up and down.

“That’s it, baby. Keep riding. Fuck I love the sight of your greedy cunt swallowing that dildo. You look so fucking beautiful, baby. There you go. Go a little faster, baby. I wanna see those perfect tits bounce faster, little one. Fuck princess, I can’t wait to fill you with my cock. I wanna see you take that knot, baby. I wanna see your greedy little pussy stretch around it”, he growls out, lust lacing his voice.

You spread your legs wider and drop your pussy down lower. You move one of your fingers down to your swollen clit and rub tight circles on it. Pleasure slams through your body, and the knot fully pops inside your tight cunt. “Fu-Fuck Decker. I’m cumming. Fuck I’m cumming”, you cry out.

Just as your cunt clenches down at the beginning of probably the best orgasm of your life, Decker wraps his claws around your arms and pulls you up and off the dildo, the suction cup keeping it secured to the floor. You cry out at the ruined orgasm, your cunt trying to clench around nothing, and your clit pulsing in need of stimulation. Tears spring to your eyes as your thighs clench together, trying to get any stimulation at all. Decker is quick to reach one hand down and separate your legs, stopping any stimulation and ruining your orgasm completely.

You look at him in confusion and a hint of betrayal as tears stream down your face. He licks up the tears from your cheeks before saying, “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’ve decided that the first time we fuck, the only knot you are going to cum on is mine.” With that, he pushes you back to lie on the bed as he starts stripping his clothes.

You stare at every glorious inch of his body that gets exposed. Your need for him increases with each second. As his cock is revealed, you audibly gasp. He wasn’t lying when he said he was bigger than your toys. His cock is so giant that even fully hard, it hangs down towards the floor, too heavy to stand upright. The knot at the base is larger than your fist, and your nipples harden even more at the thought of him forcing it inside you.

“Tell me you want it, princess. I need you to tell me now because once I start, I won’t be able to stop. I’ve thought about this for far too long to be able to hold back once I finally have you,” he says, giving you one last chance to back out.

You spread your legs wide, making sure your dripping pussy is entirely on display, and reply, “Please, Decker. Please, I want this, I need this, I need you. Please fill me. Make me yours”. He is on you before you even finish. He pushes your legs up and over his shoulders, his cock resting over your pussy and your lower belly. He thrusts his cock back and forth but holds back from entering you, just working on covering himself in your slick juices.

“Mmmm, I love how soft your body is, baby. So fucking perfect in every way. Drives me fucking mad”, he growls out. Each brush of his cock rubs your pulsing clit, and all you want is for him to push inside you. You are just about to start begging when he finally lines himself up with your needy hole and pushes in. He only goes about halfway, but you are already crying out at the feeling.

He moans your name and keeps thrusting, moving deeper and deeper with each stroke. He watches your body open up for him, mumbling the word perfect under his breath. On his next thrust, his knot hits your entrance, and he seems to lose all control. He grabs onto your love handles and starts fucking you like an animal.

You cry out in ecstasy at feeling so full, his cock slamming into your g-spot brutally on every thrust. Your hands grip his forearms, needing to hold on and ground yourself as he fucks you like he owns you. “Fuck Decker… you feel so good. Don-don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please”.

He moans at your begging, leaning forward to cover your body with his own. Your knees are pushed up towards your shoulders, and his body keeps you in place, unable to move. You cum with a cry of his name, squirting on his cock from the pleasure.

He doesn’t give you any time to recover as he continues using your puffy pussy. You whimper at the overstimulation that sets in, but you don’t want him to stop. You need to feel him knot you. You need to feel him fill you with his cum.

“Your pussy is fucking heaven, baby. I’m never fucking letting you go. Do you hear me? You’re MINE.” he says as his thrusts speed up. His hips slammed against you and pushed you down into the mattress. You only manage to whimper and moan in response, tears streaming down your chubby cheeks in pleasure.

He pulls back almost entirely before slamming his hips down, pressing his knot against your entrance and keeping it there as he tries to push it in. Your entrance puts up a good fight, and he growls, angry at the denial of entry. You start to question whether or not he will be able to fit his knot inside when he shifts his weight so almost all of it is in his hips, pushing his knot harder against your dripping cunt.

Gravity seems to be on his side as his knot is forced into your tight cunt as he drops down against you completely. You scream out his name at the insane stretch, never having been this filled, his tip kissing your womb. Your arms wrap around his back as your nails dig into his fur. He starts his thrusts again, but this time shallow as his knot stays stuck inside of you. Each stroke causes your body to jiggle beneath him, your nipples rubbing against his hairy chest, sending shocks of pleasure to your aching clit.

He pulls his hips back, and his cock pulls your bottom half off the bed by your swollen cunt, before he drops back down. He groans with the motion and continues repeating it. You cry out each time, your pussy overfilled and overwhelmed with the sensation of him.

He slams you down once more, and your legs begin to shake with pleasure. You scream out his name as your cunt once again clamps down on his massive cock, milking him with everything you have. You feel his cock twitching as he lets out a loud growl followed by swears. His cock begins filling you to the brim with his seed. Your already too-full pussy is being filled even more. Your lower stomach bloats and hardens as he cums and cums and cums, his knot not allowing even a single drop of his seed to drip from your cunt.

You cling to him as you both come down, trying to regulate the air in your lungs. He keeps you pressed to him as he rolls onto his back, draping you over his warm chest. You stay like this for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of each other’s embrace. As your mind starts returning, you sit up slightly to look at him.

“Why were you going through my closet?” you ask him. He gives you a soft smile and answers, “I was setting up for movie night and wanted to get that fuzzy throw blanket you keep on the couch in the winter. It’s a little cold today, so I thought you might enjoy it. I remember you saying you were putting it in the closet, so I went looking for it.”.

You smile at his thoughtfulness and place a loving peck on his snout. “The throw blanket is in the hallway closet for future reference.” He stares at you for a moment before laughing. His chest rises and falls, causing you to shake up and down. His laughter is quickly interrupted by a moan as your pussy shifts on his cock from the movement.

“Well, we probably have another 30 minutes to rest while my knot goes down, and then we can start movie night. Although I think this time I’ll have you seated on my lap with my cock and knot nice and warm in your perfect little cunt”.

You smile approvingly, moving your head back to snuggle into his warm chest. You never thought you would be thankful that your roommate found your knotted dildos.

🖤❤️💕💕❤️🖤

Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoyed ❤️❤️❤️