#they are a pain in the ass to clean. they are ugly! THEY ARE UGLY AND BORING

[happywitch416]

I'd like to meet the creator of mini blinds. I just wanna talk!

[in-class-daydreams]

Imaging you and ex-husband Gojo getting into an ugly fight for one of the first times since the initial divorce.

"Does your little boyfriend know you kissed me?" he asks lowly.

Your living room was not the ideal place to get into spats like this, but you'd rather here than either school where eavesdroppers can spread your business all over the place.

"He doesn't, actually!" You turn and stalk towards the kitchen, calling over your shoulder, "He's not my boyfriend, so it doesn't matter."

Satoru and his ridiculous long legs easily keep up with you. "Is that how that works?"

You turn to face him, only to bump right into his chest. When did he get that close?

Jabbing a finger into his chest, you say, "If, by some insane lapse in judgement, I kissed you while I had a boyfriend, I'd own it and come clean. It's called 'communication,' Satoru, look it up." Again, you turn to make your way into another room, eager to be away from him, but he grabs you by the wrist.

"I hate when you do that! You say some pain in the ass thing, then you try to walk away! You do it every time," he gripes. "And what would you tell him, huh?"

"I'd tell him your fucking lips were dry!" you snap. "And that it was a mistake."

Satoru grabs you by the face with one hand, squishing your cheeks together and forcing you to look at him. With one flick of his finger, he uses his technique to force his blindfold off. You're left looking into his crystal blue eyes that make you feel like a teenager again.

"You still love me," he tells you.

"I don't."

"I can tell. You look at me the same way you always have."

"No."

"Say it!"

"Fuck off!" You turn and bite his hand hard. He yelps and recoils. His fault for always letting you through his infinity. "You want me to love you, Satoru?" you shout. "You wanna act like you've changed?"

Memories of him walking into the restaurant with another woman on his arm flash in your mind. Holding back tears, you continue, "Maybe you have. But you changed for other women instead of me, so why should I give a damn about what you want?"

Satoru always blamed himself for the divorce, as much as you tried in the past to reassure him that there were a dozen factors working against you. He's done his best to take what you've said in the end days of your marriage to heart and become a better man. Communicating with dates, being better about speaking his true thoughts, all of it was an attempt to be the type of man you wanted to be married to. For you to imply that all that was too little, too late cut him deeper than you could ever know.

And so, in a stroke of pure idiocy, Satoru reaches out, cups your face, and kisses you like he'd never get to again.

Heehoo

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[bi-writes]

ghost is off limits. not just emotionally or romantically, but physically. you have seen the aftermath of when someone so much as bumps into him or brushes past his arm in a tight hallway. they learn very quickly that lieutenant riley isn't to be touched, not even a little, not at all. (18+)

ohhhh but not for the medic. your touch is clinical. necessary. ordered. ghost glares, but he does not tell you to go away when you make your way into captain price's office. it's late; they just touched down not even ten minutes ago, exhausted and burdened by an op that took a few weeks of their absence.

he smells like sweat, like grime, and you can taste the sand in the air when you take a seat next to him. even seated, he is taller than you. he takes up a ridiculous amount of space, dwarfing the office chair he sits in. you set your kit down on your captain's desk, turning to face your lieutenant.

"uhm...could you show it to me?"

he huffs in annoyance before he pulls his tactical vest over his head, tossing it onto the floor. you swallow, blinking, focusing, as he unzips the jacket he wears and lets it fall at his feet. your lips part a little as he reveals the strength of his arms, tight muscles straining against the shirt he wears and showing off the sleeve of ugly military tattoos that are sunburnt along one arm.

gorgeous, giant man, but then your eyes take interest on the nasty gash along one arm, a jagged wound that stretches nearly from shoulder to elbow. it looks angry and irritated, much like the look in his eyes.

when you put your hands on him for the first time, he flinches. not because he is in pain, but the feeling of skin against skin is so foreign, like a wound of its own. you blink up at him, soft and sweet, and you show him your hands, what you're doing with them.

"just going to clean it out and stitch you up, lieutenant. promise i won't take too long."

but he likes it. the way your soft palm cups his scarred forearm, running a cloth over the lines of blood that trace along the length to his wrist and drip onto the floor. the warm drag of your fingers pushing his skin together so you can hook the needle through and stitch him up solid and effectively. those easy, gentle strokes, threading through skin as you would hem a skirt, a pattern that you have not forgotten that is now being weaved onto his very body.

he'll wear your stitch pattern like a patch he has so dutifully earned. and you will wear his marks just the same, yes she will, the good girl that she is.

when you finish, he grunts, flexing his fist to gauge the tautness of his skin and the way the wound burns as he stretches his arm. he tilts his head to the side, glaring. your hands rest easy there, still pressed up against him, and he nods at you expectantly.

"open y'r mouth, sergeant."

and you do. because he's your lieutenant, and he has given you an order. he hikes his mask up, revealing a disgusting grin and the sharp edge of a torn lip, a face mangled beyond recognition. when he spits in your mouth, he tastes just as you expected--like sand and smoke.

"now swallow."

and you do, but not because he's your lieutenant, it's something else, something more. not afraid, but intrigued, somehow not put off, but needing sustenance.

when he crowds you in the infirmary later that night, you don't understand. you don't understand the sudden need to touch, the way he grips your ass, the nasty way he bites at your jaw and pushes your pants down your thighs and puts his cock between your thighs.

he promises he won't fuck you, promises he'll be nice this time, but it's hard to discern between reality and heaven when he lets the tip catch on your clit with every frantic stroke. you squeak with every rough thrust, pressing your ass against his pelvis as you arch your back, wanting to see his face, wanting to kiss him, wanting to make this tender and soft and a little romantic, but that isn't ghost.

ghost is mean. ghost isn't a giver, he's a taker. ghost is made of sharp edges only, broken glass on all sides, it's such a shame his cock is so nice and so big and so good, lieutenant, please, i need it--

"need more," is what you beg, even though you know he can't give it to you. you know, but he does it anyway, he slips a big hand between your thighs and opens you up, and you cry when he finally sinks deep, hoisting you up, your back tight against his chest as he learns how quiet the voices in his head are when he's so deep in your pretty, pretty pussy.

he slips another hand around your throat, baring it, giving himself room so he can bite at your neck and lick over the salt and brand you with the evidence of the reprieve he refuses to give, but you don't care, all you can do is smile.

you know his secrets now, the things he would never tell, the things he can't say out loud.

it's almost frightening that you don't really care if he has to kill you to keep you quiet.

[lomlhwa]

glory hole (v.c)

pairing: sex worker!reader x patron!vernon

preview: vernon's friends found a club that has secret glory holes. they know he's dying to get laid, so why not visit the glory holes?

tags/warnings: fem reader, reader is basically bent over a table and chained down, monster cock vernon, spanking, overstimulation, squirting, pet names (slut, whore, cumdump), degrading, reader calls vernon 'sir', unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampies

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.2k

song recs for this fic: gimmie more by britney spears

a/n: this one's a doozy

vernon anxiously nibbles on his fingernail as he waits for his friends to arrive. he’s standing outside a raunchy club, looking like a total creep. why did he agree to this? there’s no way he’s actually this desperate to get off. 

just as he’s about to walk away, his friends round the corner, laughing and carrying on. “yo vernon! you excited, buddy?” his friend, mingyu, asks. vernon shrugs. “i guess so.” mingyu throws his arm over vernon’s shoulder and guides him into the club.

they head straight for the back of the room, finding a small desk that looks like a reception desk. “hey, reservation for jeonghan?” his other friend walks up. reservations for glory holes is insane. “ah, welcome back sir. 4 of you today?” the receptionist asks and jeonghan nods. the receptionist smiles and types something into her computer.

“would any of you gentlemen like protection? we make sure our workers are all clean but if you’d like the extra precaution, let me know.” everyone shakes their heads so vernon follows suit. the woman smiles again. she hands all four of them waivers to sign. he reads it carefully before signing it and handing it back.

the receptionist rises from her chair and walks over to unlock the door beside the group of friends. “your rooms are numbers 5 through 8. remember, feel free to engage in any of your fantasies as long as you don’t seriously injure anyone. their chains are easy to rotate if you wanna change positions. enjoy your 2 hours with our lovely women.” with that, the door is shut. 

“alright boys, see you later,” mingyu shouts before running into a room and clicking it locked. all of the other disperse as well, leaving vernon alone. he wanders to the last one of their rooms available. room number 6. he can already hear the sounds of skin slapping coming from other rooms.

he opens the door hesitantly, finding you bent over, humming to yourself. when he clicks the door locked, you jump and stop humming. “welcome sir. feel free to use me as you please. i’m here for your pleasure,” you recite the standard welcome message to the new patron who has just walked in. you can only hope it’s not some gross middle aged man with a tiny cock again.

when you feel no contact for another 5 minutes, you get worried. “sorry, i don’t mean to not touch you, i got dragged here by my friends and i feel bad using you.” you can’t help but stifle a small giggle. a man feeling bad about using a glory hole? that’s a new one. “sir, this is my job. just fuck me already.” by now, you’re certain he’s an ugly, washed up man. 

finally, you hear his belt jingle and you know he’s sucking it up. you hear him take a deep breath before shoving into you. you gasp at the size, your walls stretching painfully around him. you grip your chains with such force that your knuckles turn white. 

“fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he mutters before beginning to move. he starts off slow, knowing that the stretch is painful. he grips your hips tightly, leaving finger indents in your soft skin. he snaps your hips against yours, driving his cock against your g-spot and prodding your cervix. it’s been so long since you actually enjoyed a patron, but this felt so good. you wished you could reach your arm back to hold his arm or something. 

“you’re such a good slut, aren’t you?” he says before landing a hard smack on your ass. clearly he has managed to get much more comfortable. you nod your head, agreeing with him. you can feel your release building up with every thrust. such a timid man fucking so well is unheard of. but you’re loving this. you grip your chains for dear life, gasping for air as your orgasm creeps up. “god, please sir i’m gonna cum,” you beg, barely fighting it off. 

“you can cum, but i’m not gonna stop fucking you. i’m not done yet. i’m gonna use your hole until i cum” vernon smacks your ass again and you fall over the edge. your legs shake violently. if it weren’t for the chains, you would be snapping your legs closed. he continues to jackhammer into your hole, pushing you past the edge and towards another orgasm. you notice that his thrusts are getting sloppy, signaling to you that he’s close. “please cum inside me, sir. i need it so bad,” you plead, your walls squeezing around him. he digs his nails into your sides as he cums, filling you to the brim. the sensation sends you into another orgasm, this time you squirt all over his legs and the floor.

“aw, the cumdump likes being filled so much that she couldn’t take it,” he snickers, running his fingers over your sensitive core. you shake and twitch at every small touch. “i’m gonna flip you over, i wanna see your pretty face.” he hooks his arms around your waist and rolls you over. being rolled over holds your arms down to your chest with the chains, still trapped. 

when you’re finally situated and you see his face, you’re astonished to see how beautiful this man is. you almost wish this wasn’t a business exchange, but you know better than to get attached to customers. “well aren’t you a pretty little thing. so pretty and such a whore,” he comments, stroking your face. he ducks down to situate your crossed legs around his waist. he reaches down between you to shove back into you.

“i have 15 minutes left, i’m gonna get another orgasm out of you.” 15 minutes? how has it already almost been 2 hours? he slides into you easier this time, your hole having yet to recover from his previous entry. your arms strain against your chains, wishing you could grab onto him to ground yourself. he pounds into you ruthlessly, his only focus being to drive you over the edge.

he reaches down to rub your clit and you throw your head back, your eyes crossing involuntarily. “oh my fucking god,” you croak, your voice getting caught in the back of your throat. you squeeze your legs around his waist, desperate for release. with 5 minutes left on the clock, you plead for your orgasm. “cum with me, slut. i’m gonna fill you up again,” he demands, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face. 

as he feels you tighten for a final time, he leans down to kiss you. you hadn’t been kissed in so long so this surprised you. you kiss him back, cumming onto his cock as he simultaneously fills you up to the brim.

he pulls out of you and flips you back over into your original position just as his time strikes zero. “h-have a good day sir. feel f-free to return whenever you’d like,” you stutter the standard goodbye message. he slaps your ass one last time before pulling his pants back up and walking out. 

as the door closes behind him, he finds his friends coming out of their own rooms as well. “so? how was it?” jun asks him, patting him on the back. “so good, and she’s so hot,” he says, gesturing back to his room. 

“i will be coming back.”

© lomlhwa 2024

[haruchi-slit]

"TAKE A LOOK IN MY EYES, CAN YOU FEEL THE TENSION?"

kinktober '24 | warnings: enemies who fucks each other + reader is called as: "miss president" + they're literally enemies + p in v

ryomen sukuna was notorious for being a trouble maker at your university, for fuck's sake he doesn't have any proper bone in his body he's always having the time of his life, fucking girls in vacant classrooms, always out for after school fights, he believes it's for the "thrill" and he's always been a pain in your ass, he's you call him "pain in the ass sukuna" with how much trouble he's dragging you, both of you are just so opposite at everything, but they say "opposites attract" and fucking hell why is it right?

"this is the 3rd time the two of you got in trouble, do you want me to expell both of you!?" the principal's voice roared thru his office. you flinched as the principal shouts, you're standing beside the one and only fucker who got you dragged on his mess, "no, of course not." he responds, making the principal's brows twitch. "I'm so disappointed on you miss president. how can you not prevented this to happen?" the principal said, "the two of are going to clean the basketball court as punishment. this is the last time I'll be seeing the both of you here. get out. the two of you GET OUT!" the principal screamed, you saw him getting red with frustration, which you found funny.

"this is all your fucking fault" you huffed, with furrowed brows, "my fault?" he twitched, "it's our fault dumb bitch." he huffed back, you gasped, "call me bitch one more time i swear you fuckin' monkey" he smirks, "okay...biiiiitch" and oh, all hell breaks loose. you threw the broom on the floor before marching angrily towards him as he awaits with a devious smirk, but before you could punch him, the principal walks in, almost catching you red handed... "what's going on?" you quickly retrieved your fist and jabbed sukuna on his side "fuck-ing ouch!" , "nothing sir! he was telling me a joke! righttt?" "no you-" you jabbed him once more and he winced in pain, "yeah, yeah, and then the frog jumped out the window!" "OH hahahaha! that's so funny sukuna" you laughed, while shooting deadly glares at him, "oh is that so? very well then I'll leave you two be." the principal squints before going out.

you took a deep breath before picking up the broom "let's get this over with." "why do you hate me that much, hm?" he sighs angrily, "cause you're a pain in the ass, you're a frat boy, you're ugly, you act like a stupid fucking monkey and the list goes on"

you saw his eyes twitch as you enumerated his flaws, "are you fucking blind? ugly? where? fucking bitch."

the two of you were always at odds, constantly trying to outdo one another in everything. Whether it was in the classroom, on the sports field, or in any other aspect of life, you and Sukuna were rivals...

but there was always an underlying tension between the two of you, a spark of attraction that neither of you wanted to admit it was bad and you knew it. it was a dangerous game with fire, this constant push and pull, but neither of you could resist.

"close the damn door before you head out airhead" you shout, picking up your bag from the floor, "why should i?" he hissed, "just do it fucking hell!" you shout louder, "fuck you!" sukuna shouts back "no, fuck you bitch!" you spat back before walking out. after the incident, you didn't saw nor heard of him for a week, which is a fucking relief, but for fuck's sake why's destiny always ruining good things for you?

"WHAT the hell is wrong with the two of you?!" the principal shouts, "this is the fourth time, i need the two of you to work on your attitudes, you two are INSANE, who in their right mind would fight Infront a teacher?!" "the principal adds, "it wasn't my fault i swear!" you tried to justify, "sure, it wasn't your fault." "tell him sukuna." you screamed, "tell him what?" he scoffs, "get the fuck out of my office, NOW!"

the both of you were punished to clean the rest room and locker room for a whole semester, after the heated you both are now in the locker room,

"fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU why do you need to ruin my day?! you're bat shit crazy! get a life for fuck's sake!"

"can i use you for that?" sukuna smirked

"go fuck yourself"

and the argument between the two of you goes on and on, that it turned into a physical altercation, "fuck you" you shout, "you wanna fuck me that badly?" he laughs, shoving you to the ground, "go to hell, fucker!" you spat, kicking his knees hard "I'll drag you down with me bitch." and before you knew it, you were pinned against the floor, sukuna's lips crashing down on yours in a fiery kiss.

"what-the fuck, mhmm.. are you doing-" you paused between kisses, "you're pretty when you shut the fuck up, -you mnnn, should do that-fuck- more," "oh-ngh why don't you shut the fuck up too?" you groaned, unbuttoning your blouse off, it was like a switch had been flipped, all that pent up frustration and desire exploding between the two of you. clothes were quickly discarded, sukuna's hands roaming over heated skin as you both gave into the pool of undeniable lust and pleasure, "fucking hell, you're so good, fuckkk, you smell so sweet, i wanna destroy you so bad.." sukuna lets out a shaky moan, "s-shut up- airhead" you whimpered, arching your back as you feel his member sliding in, your eyes rolls back in the deepest depths of your skull, while sukuna's hands roam freely on your body, "you infuriate me -so ugh fuck!-much" you babbled, "yet you can't even resist my touch" sukuna chuckles, "c'mon miss president, your face's flushing so hard"

"s-hut up!" you struggled to form a word, in that moment, all previous hatred and animosity were forgotten as you both lost yourselves in each other. bodies moving in perfect sync as you both reached new heights of pleasure.

"f-fuck sukunaaa- yes just like that- mhn-" you cried, "can you say "please" miss president?" "go fuck- yourself!" sukuna laughs before he lifts your leg up and placed it on his shoulder, "fuck you're squeezing me so fucking tight" he says, pounding his hips to yours, "fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckkk!" you yelped, "gonna cum, miss president?" "oh-nghhmm, yes yes!" sukuna grinned, stretching your leg further to it's limits, "fuck-" and with the last final thrust both of you came to your climax, you can feel his member twitch inside of you as he shoots thick strings of cum in you, "this never happ-" *KNOCK KNOCK*

"hello, is someone in there?"

...

taglist: @catobsessedlady @tojis-ball-sack @sukunawhores @sugoroo

[xveenusx]

Enough

Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Realizing that no matter what you do, no matter how much you love someone, you are still not enough.

Author’s note: I’ve had a severe case of writer’s block so please don’t hate my disappearance.

Rating: Pure brutal angst

Warnings: fucking painful

__________________________

I think I may have made a small miscalculation.

My eyes trailed over the mass of muscle currently spread out on my bed.

Rafe Cameron.

Kook King, heir to Ward's real estate empire, and asshole extrodinare was sleeping soundly in my bed. It was almost laughable if I wasn't so fucking terrified.

The sunlight danced across his tan skin, the sheets bunched up at his hips leaving little to imagination. My breath caught as my eyes followed the small happy trail causing memories of last night to assualt me.

Sitting on the chaise lounge chair, I curl up against the pillows humming softly to myself. Bringing the mug up to my lips, I bite back a smile at the utter relaxtaion on his face.

When Rafe told me to pack a bag, my stomach flipped with nerves. Being the maid of the infamous Cameron family wasn't exactly ideal in the eyes of his family let alone being a pogue. So we kept our relationship a secret at his request. He had too much to lose if his family reacted poorly.

People wouldn't understand. Ward wouldn't understand. That's what he always told me.

Yet, as much as I tried to understand his reasoning, a small part of me ached at the thought of it being much simpler: I just wasn't enough.

It was exahusting to say the least. Always having to hide and watch as other women with more social status and money than me throw themselves at him. It didn't help that Rafe had a tendency to flirt back causing the green monster known as jealousy to rear its ugly head in my face.

So I stuck with what I knew how to do: clean.

And just as I begin to fall off the deep end, straight over a cliff into overthinking, Rafe always manages to pull me back out. This time he did it by offering a small getaway.

The Cameron's weren't set to use their beach house for another month or so, leaving this entire property for Rafe and I to simply enjoy each other's company. Something we rarely get to do.

There was no need to pretend here.

A groan pulled me out of my thoughts directing my eyes to the bed. A cool salty breeze swept in from the open balcony doors, the sounds of waves crashing agaisnt the shore soothed me.

Rafe peered at me from under his arm with a frown marring his features.

"What's with that face?"

"I don't like waking up alone." He complained, staring at me expectantly.

Giddiness singes every nerve in my body as I set down my mug and scurry over to the bed. The moment my knees hit the bed, strong arms envelope me and tug me into a warm prison.

"Mmmmh." Rafe hums, burying his face into the nape of my neck while his hand slowly tugs my leg over his hip. A small giggle slips from my lips at his softness.

"Are you laughing at me?" His voice rumbled with sleep.

"Yes, you’re a very simple man to please."

"I didn't have you, and now I do. There, it's simple."

My heart melted at his words. For someone who struggled wiht expressing how he felt, Rafe always managed to knock me on my ass.

"What did you wanna do today?" I asked, trailing my fingertips along his face, placing every freckle, every spot to memory.

Blue crytsalized eyes follow me every move. "You. In every room in this house. Then outside."

Blushing at his words, I huffed in fake annoyance and playfully shoved his face away from me. "Rafe, I'm being serious."

"I'm being dead serious, baby." He nipped at my fingers before rolling over onto his back, dragging me directly on top.

I rest my chin on the tops of my hands that laid on his chest and stare at the beautiful man below me. Rafe's fingers thread themselves into my hair brushing it softly, alomst lulling me to sleep.

I wanted to capture this moment forever. The sound of the seagulls chirping, the smell of the salty breeze, the warmth of his body under mine, and the utter adortion that dances in his eyes as he looks at me. It was intimate and real. And for a moment, I allowed myself to dream about the possibility of this becoming a reality.

The abilty to hold his hand in public and kiss his body in private. Being able to go on dates and be on his arm for events and dinners. Hanging out with his friends and his family because I knew what they meant to him. Being able to wake up in his bed rather than sneaking out in the middle of the night. I wanted it all.

Our picture perfect bubble. And consider me naive, but I thought this moment would last forever. But the thing about bubbles is they always pop in the end.

"Guess what?" Rafe asked, his cerulean orbs intense and sincere.

A beaming smile stretched across my lips at the familiar phrase he always used. "What?"

"I love-"

"I love you." I beat him to it, making him let out a deep bellyed laugh. I was memoriezed, enamoured by every little thing he did. I wanted to hear it again and again.

Opening my mouth, "No take backs-"

A knock on the door interrupts me.

That's when our bubble pops.

"Rafe? Open up." Sarah Cameron's voice fillters in from the other side of the door.

My eyes dart to Rafe, only for his face to be painted with sheer panic. In seconds, I'm shoved off the side of the bed and fall onto the floor in a heap of sheets.

My mind took a moment to catch up with my body. But when it did, the flood of emotions that crashed into me were nothing short of excruciating. An immediate lump formed in my throat at his actions as I try to make quick excuses for him but nothing came to mind.

"Just stay down, please." The sound of his request has me closing my eyes, his words hitting me deep, knifelike in the size of the wounds that they left.

I nodded softly. I remain still on my side on the cold floor as I numbly stare at the wall.

"Sarah, what the fuck are you doing here? I had the beach house for the weekend." His words were low and sharp, nothing like how he spoke to me mere seconds ago.

"Chill out. My friends and I wanted to get away a little, plus I figured you were already here, so. "

"You brought those fucking pogues here?"

I hear her scoff. "Your friends are worse."

"Just make sure they don't steal anything. I know it's hard for them considering they wouldn't see this type of money in a life time." His words were cruel, twisting the knife deeper into my chest.

I couldn't help but wonder if there was a double meaning behind his words. I was a pogue, just like Sarah's friends, and it would take me years to afford even a fraction of what's in this beach house.

Was that how he saw me? Was this the reason why we couldn't be public?

"Have you seen her? She wasn't at the house when I left." Sarah's question drew me back to the present.

I held my breath as I waited for him to answer about my whereabouts. I couldn't take another hit.

"I know you have about two brain cells, but please tell me why you would think I know where the help is?"

All my breath left my body and I fought the urge to scream. A heavy weight sat on my chest as I blankly stared at the floor, my eyeballs burning in absolute mortification.

"God, you're such an asshole."

"I aim to please. Now leave me alone." With that, Rafe slammed the door shut but I refused to move a muscle.

Instead, I tried to focus on my breath. It was the only thing that would keep me from having a panic attack. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs but it's like my body forgot how to breathe.

Tears finally began to fall silently as I gasped for breath, clutching the sheet closer to my chest. Humilation pricked my very being as his words play on repeat in my mind.

Rafe was the best part of my day. He made me want things I didn't even know I wanted. And yet, this was how he viewed me. So small and insiginifcant.

Footsteps move in my direction but I paid them no mind. Moving was impossible, so I just stayed in the spot where Rafe thought I belonged— on the cold hard floor.

"I know how it looks, just give me a chance to explain." I felt him kneel beside me, his hand reaching to cup my face. I jerked my face away from him and return my attention to the wall.

"Can you please get off the floor?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"This is where you wanted me, right?" The words left a stale taste in my mouth.

My heart pounded in my throat as a hot flush filled my cheeks.

"Look at me." He demanded.

I couldn't. It hurt too much.

"Baby, please. Look at me." He touched my chin and I felt my body shudder.

"Don't touch me." The words tore out of my chest as I wrenched myself away from him.

Rafe's eyes tracked my movement and his face became very still as if contemplating his next move.

The level of betrayal I felt must have been painted on my face, because his expression shifted to one of regret.

"I made a mistake-"

"Stop." I snapped, lifting my hand to cut him off. "Get out. I need to change and leave before Sarah see's me."

"I drove you, where are you going to go when you don't have a car?"

My eyes narrow at his tone. Once again he was painting me as this helpless girl that was nothing without him.

"I have two legs that work perfetly fine."

Rafe crossed his bulging arms against his toned chest. "You're not leaving until we talk."

A fake laugh past my lips. "We're done, there's nothing left to talk about."

He let out a growl of frustation. "We're not breaking up."

Was he delusional?

"This is me breaking up with you. We are done, Rafe."

Rafe's icey blue eyes narrowed into slits. "Stop trying to break up with me."

"You threw me off the bed!" I shouted, my hands pointing to the floor where I laid moments ago, the shame still fresh as an open wound.

"You threw me off the bed." I repeated softer, my voice breaking at the end. "The bed, Rafe. Just so Sarah didn't see you with me."

"I shouldn't have done that-"

"It happened. It's done. Just let me leave."

Protecting what little self respect I had left was my only goal. No matter how much I loved him, it wasn't worth this constant stream of self doubt and humiliation that seemed to follow us like a plague.

Rafe stared at me for a moment before he jumped into action. Heading towards my suitcase, I watch frozen as he goes through my clothes, picking an outfit for me.

Taking several strides to me, Rafe shoved the clothes into my arms, his breath heavy. "Put these on."

"Rafe, what the hell are you doing-"

"I made a mistake. One that I'm going to fix right now. So stop fighting with me and put these on."

Unease filled me chest as my eyes dart to the clothes.

"How?"

"No more hiding. You and me, okay?"

I stared into his hopeful gaze, looking for even a flash of insincerity or deceit, but only found sheer determination. "Rafe, you can get out of this. I'm giving you an out-"

He shakes his head roughly, strands of golden hair falling on his forehead. "I don't want an out, I want you. So put the clothes on so I can go tell the world I love you."

I snorted, "Seems a bit melodramatic. Let's start small, yeah?"

Pushing his hair back, a sexy smile pulled at his lips. "Small."

I made my decision. Turning around, I grabbed the clothes and began to dress.

I wiped my sweaty hands against my mini white sundress as nerves begin to prick every bit of my skin. Rafe stood in front of me, his glacial eyes soft, with his hand held out for mine. "Ready, baby?"

Hope inflated my lungs as I placed my trembling hand in his, the cool feel of his rings brining a familiar type of comfort.

Rafe leads us out of the room and towards the staircase where voices floated up from downstairs. I was nervous. Extremely nervous. He was going to do it. Rafe was going to introduce me as his girlfriend to his sister and her friends, no less.

The sound of our footsteps echoed against the giant house causing the voices to slowly die away.

Coming into view, Sarah and the pogues are all perched in the living room wearing beach attire. An open bottle of tequila and shot glasses are spread along the table.

All eyes zone in on us before they zoom in on our clased hands. Sarah's eyes widened and I fought the urge to pull my hand from Rafe's grasp. As if sensing my thoughts, Rafe squeezed my hand reassuringly and moved me slightly in front of him.

He cleard his throat. "I uh-"

His eyes shot to mine. I let my fingers brush against his arm in encouragement, a proud smile gracing my lips.

This was the first step in the right direction. Once we told Sarah, it would be easier with each passing person.

Butterflies swarmed my stomach like a zoo. I knew how hard this was for him, but he was still doing this for me, for us. Rafe was finally making us a priority. The unattainble future now felt like it was within my reach.

"Sarah, there's something I want to tell you. I've um-well I've been seeing-"

The front door slammed.

"Looks like we're missing all the fun." Ward Cameron walked in, hand in hand with Rose. A loose linen shirt with thin pants dress his body with a hat and an expensive pair of sungalsses cover his face.

I felt Rafe's grip slowly loosen on my hand. Panic clawed at my throat as I turn my head to look at him. Rafe stared directly ahead with his jaw clenched. He refused to even look at me.

In a last ditch effort to cling onto the invisible string that held us together, I tightened my grip on his hand but Rafe jerked his hand away.

I felt the pressure in my chest finally pop and the string that once tethered us together finally tear. Dread sat in my stomach like lead and bile traveled up my throat.

He made his decision and once again, it wasn't me.

Heat rushed up my neck as I left my arms hang limply at my side. I didn't know what to do, I couldn't think. My shoulders slumped as I bit down on my tongue hard enought to draw blood.

It kept me from screaming.

"Rafe, thank god you brought the help. Though it looks like she hasn't been doing much cleaning." Rose tsked as she looked at the littered table in distaste. "Honey, be a dear and make us new drinks. Then when you have a minute, our bags are out front. Go ahead and put them in our room."

With a wave of a hand she dismissed me, as her and Ward walk passed me with no other acknowlegment.

My mouth went dry as I clenched my shaky shands together. I could feel Sarah's gaze drilling into the side of my head, but I couldn't look at her. Instead, I once again looked at the bane of my existance. The source of this crippling pain the crushes every inch of my soul.

"Rafe..." My voice trembled as I begged him, pleaded, for him to look at me. Just once.

I wanted him to see my face. He refused, the only hint of his turmoil was the bob of his adam's apple.

Swallowing my pride, I put my head down and do what I do best: clean.

____________________

I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me alive. I spent the rest of the day doing every little thing Rose asked. I kept my head down and said not one word.

Rafe made my place in his life very clear so I was going to be exactly what he wanted me to be. The perfect little maid.

The entire Cameron family sat at the table for dinner, John B included, as I gently set each of their plates down in front of them. I held my breath once I reached Rafe, knowing that one hint of his expensive musky cologne would send me into a fit of tears.

"Thank you." The timber of his voice caused me to close my eyes briefly in pain.

A familiar touch to my wrist made me jerk away and clear my throat. I continue serving dinner, forcing myself to ignore the gravity that's pulling me towards him.

"That'll be all, you can go relax for a bit. We'll need you back to clean up, of course."

"Of course." My smile was brittle. I allowed myself only a glance. Rafe glared down at his plate, hands clenched into fists at his side.

My feet moved on their own accord and soon I found myself outside, standing beside the pool that overlooked the shore. Taking in gulps of air, I placed my head in my hands.

Starting over was never something I planned. Once I met Rafe, everything else shifted into perspective. All I ever thought about was moving forward with him and starting a life together. One that he would be proud of. One where I didn't have to hide.

"I'm sorry." The words came from behind me and burned a whole straight through my chest.

I choked back on my tears that threatened to drown me and stare down at the rag in my hands.

"Baby." He moved closer now, his heat pressing into my side.

A small shake of my head was all I could muster. The armour I placed around my delicate heart was getting weaker with each passing second.

"I said, I'm sorry." His hand reaches for my waist, turning me to face my destruction.

A light blue linen shirt paired with white six inch seamed shorts don his body. A large gold watch decorated his wrist to match the shiny gold necklace that rested on his chest.

Looking down at myself, a simple tee and leggings, the contrast was so striking it was laughable. In what world had I fooled myself into thinking Rafe Cameron was mine.

Deciding to proctect my sanity, I moved back towards the house with every intention of cleaning up before grabbing my bag and leaving when Rafe blocked my escape.

"Did you hear me? I'm so fucking sorry, for all of it."

"I heard you." Indifference lacing every word.

Rafe gowled, running his hands through his hair in frustation at my lack of emotion. "Stop acting like you don't care and just talk to me."

"I don't care what your family thinks of me and I don't care what you think of me. I dont care anymore, Rafe."

Rafe gripped my chin and his irate gaze burned me. "Tell me what to do to fix it."

There was nothing left of me for him to fix.

The sound of Ward calling out my name is enough to distract Rafe. Pulling my face from his grasp, I promplty turned around and headed towards the house.

"Stop fucking walking." He barked out harshly.

Ignoring his words, I continue to head in the direction of the house. Only a few more hours and I can leave with my head held high despite the gaping hole in my chest.

"I swear to God, stop walking." I could hear his footsteps behind me causing a rush of adrenaline to spread like wildfire through my veins.

"Last time I checked, you work for my family. My last name is fucking Cameron so if I tell you to stop walking, you stop fucking walking." The words are cruel and dark and they have their desired effect because I stop immediately in my tracks.

My eyes began to burn as I pivoted on my heel and slwoly turned to face him. His gaze hardened and I can see him contemplating something before a vicious smirk decorates the face I love.

A glass tumblr was in his hand and I watched in absolute shock as he tilted the cup, spilling the dark liquid onto the floor. The rag in my hand suddenly weighed eight tons as I realized his intent.

"Clean it up."

My blood turned ice cold and a sound a disbelief left my lips.

"I said, Clean. It. Up." He gestured to the floor.

I searched his eyes for anything, for everything, but there's nothing there. Looking back down at the mess, I nodded my head and slowly dropped to my knees.

Tears blurred my vision as I scrubbed the floor clean, wanting nothing more than to disappear. Our fate was finally sealed in that moment.

Leaning back on the heels of my feet, I swallowed. Tears clung to my lashes but the damage was already done. The trails the tears left in their wake burned into my skin as a reminder of his cruelty.

His cold mask finally cracked at the sight of my tears. Rafe took a step in my direction but something in my face made him halt.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Cameron?” I averted my eyes from his.

A harsh noise escaped his lips then he reached out and grabbed my shoulders. I closed my eyes at the heat of his touch and my lips began to quiver.

“I just wanted you to talk to me….” Rafe spoke softly, his words pained.

I wiped my tears harshly and forced myself to look at him for the last time. His hard glacial eyes study my face.

The memory from this morning continued to fade out of my reach. Pain filled me as I realized that was the last time we would ever be together.

“Am I free to go, Mr. Cameron?”

His face crumbled. For a second, one second, a twisted sense of happiness hit me at the sight of his pain. Rafe did this to us. Not his family, not his friends, but him.

Rafe’s face became very still. He nodded slightly and relief filled me. I stared into his eyes, hoping he could see all the love I had been so willing to shower him with, but it was now too late.

Giving him my back, I allowed the dirty rag in my hand drop. 20 more steps. That’s all that stood between me and the next chapter of my story. One that didn’t include him.

Each step seemed to get heavier the farther I walked away from Rafe. I was wrapped around a haze of heartbreak that almost made my movements mechanical.

I entered the house, numb to the bone, and gathered all my things. Everything around me was out of focus as I dragged my suitcase towards the front door.

I could see Rose from the corner of my eye, her mouth moving, but the ringing in my ears only seemed to get louder. Pushing past her, I headed straight for the door and forced myself not to look back.

Everything was different now. In a way, so was I.

One foot in front of the other, I walked down the drive way. The ringing in my ears and the adrenaline that pumped through my veins was suddenly dulled at the sound of the door slamming open behind me.

Loud footsteps echoed behind me before my arms are grabbed and I’m forced to turn around.

Rafe’s eyes were wild with panic as he panted in front of me. His entire appearance was disheveled with his hair sticking out in all directions.

“Don’t go.”

I was so close to being out of his grasp and being free of this agony that gripped me so tightly it made it hard to breathe.

“You were never mine. Were you?” The question slipped past my lips before I knew it.

“I love you. I do, please just come back inside and I’ll do what you want. I’ll tell Ward and Rose right now.” His blue eyes held so much hope, but it wasn’t enough. The magic was all gone, replaced with this cruel torment.

“I was yours, in every way possible. But, it didn’t matter what I did. I still wasn’t enough for you. I’m never going to be good enough, am I?” My voice cracked, but the words were out along with the realization of how painfully accurate they were.

Warm hands cradled my face pulling me towards his. Rafe rested his forehead on mine, his eyes boring into mine. I could feel the slight tremble in his hands.

“That’s not true. You know that’s not true.”

“How could I possibly know that? You never do anything that says otherwise.”

“I love a man who can’t even hold my hand in public.” He couldn’t hold me gaze, instead he turned it to the floor with his jaw clenched.

“You knew who I was when we started this. You knew what came with being with a Cameron. Our situation is much more complicated than you’re making it fucking seem. So I didn’t hold your hand, now you’re going to leave me?”

His logic was horribly flawed.

“Our situation is not complicated. All you had to do was love me the way I loved you.”

“Whether you like it or not, you’re a fucking maid,” Rafe said through gritted teeth,” The maid to my family, no less, and you expect to be welcomed in with open arms? This isn’t a fairytale, wake up.”

”Then what was the point of all of this? Of me loving you and you loving me, if it was never going to go anywhere.”

“The point was that we were together and we were happy.” Rafe let out a frustrated noise and shook his head. But it was clear, he wasn’t getting it. I knew nothing I’d say would ever get through to him.

“Were we? Together, I mean. Because I was always at your beck and call. Literally and figuratively. Where were you for my college graduation? Where were you when my dad died? I’ll tell you where you were,” I pressed my finger into his chest, “You. Weren’t. There. Instead, you chose to love me from afar because you care more about the opinion of sheep than you do me.”

I couldn’t stop talking. It was as though a wall cracked and suddenly every emotion I held in was flooding through.

“Look at me.” I shouted, grabbing his chin and forcing him to stare. “I want you to look me in the fucking eye. Look at the damage you caused. You did this to us. ”

“Stop being cruel.”

“Cruel? You threw your drink on the floor and made me clean it up. Did seeing me on my knees make you feel big and strong?”

He tilted his head, his expression darkening. “Enough. Come back inside, now.”

“I wanted everything for you.” I laughed at how incredibly stupid and blind I had been. “And you can’t even hold my fucking hand.”

Race’s eyes softened marginally. “Tell me what to do. How can I fix this?”

My stomach tightened. Steeling myself, I swallowed the lump in my throat and pushed out the next words. “You can’t.”

“I can, but you’re not give me a fucking chance here.” His words came out as a plea.

“Being with you was a choice I made every day. One that you clearly couldn’t make, so I’m making it for you. We’re done.

His jaw ticked. ”Try and fucking leave me.”

I wanted nothing more than to run back into his arms and comfort him, despite it all. But I knew, if I was going to survive this at all, I couldn’t be with him.

“I’m always running behind you, trying to keep up. Trying to be everything you want and everything you need, but I’m all out of breath. I have nothing left to give you. But it’s still more than you ever gave me.” With those being my parting words, I clutched onto the handle of my suitcase in a death grip and force myself to walk away from him.

My shoulders jump at the sound of something shattering behind me.

“I love you.” Rafe screamed at the top of his lungs from behind me. His voice was brutal and laced with pain.

Not enough.

_________________

Side note: pls let me know what you think! I’ve been gone for several months so I’m a bit rusty:) I am working on the second part of Hate as promised!

[cjlouwho]

Bucktommy prompt: Tommy is dealing with chronic pain and Buck helps him through it.

Part 3 of my injured Tommy fic

If Tommy were being honest, there were some positives to being paralyzed. The first time he'd told Evan as much, he'd stared back at him with eyebrows raised and a face that said, “I can't wait to see where this is going.”

So Tommy had gone through the list he'd made in his head.

1. He always got the best parking spots.

2. Little old ladies now helped him in the grocery store.

3. People were constantly opening doors for him.

4. He'd get to board first on a plane... as soon as he and Evan figured out where they were going to go for their honeymoon.

5. Sometimes people let him cut in line.

6. He'd learned how to do some sick ass wheelies!

Buck had laughed along with his list, even adding a few himself.

7. Bigger hotel rooms.

8. Tommy's biceps were larger than Buck thought humanly possible.

9. If Buck got tired of walking, he could just sit on Tommy's lap and get a free ride.

And while these things were all good and true, there were plenty of things that made Tommy's new life far more difficult.

One of which were the body spasms.

He'd been warned about them in the hospital. Had a few of them before he'd been discharged. Learned how to deal with them, for the most part, through physical therapy. He'd also been put on muscle relaxants, sleeping pills, and antidepressants.

Which really only caused more problems, because he spent the better part of a month feeling so doped up that he was asleep more than he was awake.

His doctors changed doses and moved around schedules, trying to find the perfect balance, but Tommy hated the pills no matter what.

They didn't only impact his day to day life, but also his ability and desire for sex.

And God, as his body recovered and he and Buck settled into their new normal, he really wanted to want to have sex.

Adjustments already had to be made do to the reduction of sensation he felt around his pelvis. Things got weaker and weaker from there, reduced to no feeling at all in his legs.

They'd had their quickie wedding at the courthouse in February, followed by a ceremony with family the next month, and started planning a honeymoon in the summer. And that's when Tommy decided he was going to cut back on some of his medications, and cut others out completely. He was not going to spend his honeymoon in a half daze, not caring whether or not his drop dead gorgeous husband was naked on top of him.

Buck had protested at first. He'd made it clear that sex didn't mean everything to him. The things they still did do were pretty damn great, and it wasn't worth Tommy being in pain.

But Tommy insisted.

So they'd met with his doctors and come up with a plan. He could go off the sleeping pills, taking them only when needed. They'd reduce the antidepressant in increments. And muscle relaxants could be used as needed as well.

For the most part, everything went fairly smoothly. His spasticity would rear its ugly head from time to time, but it wasn't anything unmanageable.

Until, one night, it was.

He should have known it was going to be a bad night. He'd been restless and uncomfortable all day long. He'd go from his wheelchair, to the couch, to the wheelchair, to the dining room chair, to the wheelchair, to the bed, then back to the wheelchair.

He'd tried wheeling around the neighborhood, usually enjoying using his arms to push himself around, but today he just felt stiff.

The muscle relaxants in the kitchen cabinet had been calling his name, but he'd resisted. Evan was coming off a forty-eight hour shift tonight, and he'd already texted Tommy a picture of himself all sweaty, no shirt on, telling him he was gonna get himself all cleaned up for Tommy.

And Tommy wanted nothing more than to give him everything he wanted, because he wanted it too. Which was a damn good feeling to have back.

He hoped that sex would help his body relax.

It didn't.

He'd gotten through it though, with a few little twinges of pain in his chest and back. Nothing too severe. And with Buck on top of him, his body flushed red, head tossed back and mouth hanging open, the pleasure overrode the pain.

It didn't get really bad until after Buck had fallen asleep. Tommy wasn't sure how long he laid there, trying to stay as still as possible so he didn't wake Evan.

Even as the pain started to radiate up his back, he clenched his teeth to keep himself from groaning.

Then it went to his chest, causing his breath to hitch. The spasm made his back arch off the bed. If it didn't hurt so bad, he would have made some sort of exorcist joke.

His hands gripped onto the fitted sheet and he could feel a vibration.

His legs were probably shaking. He couldn't feel it, but it always happened when he had these spasms, even the minor ones.

He couldn't hardly get a breath. Not while fighting to be quiet. Not while his back and chest felt like they were becoming harder than a rock.

Finally, he unclenched his jaw and let out a half-moan, half-gasp.

“Ev- Evan,” he huffed out, releasing his grip on the sheet to smack his hand down on the bed. Tommy couldn't quite reach out far enough to touch him. Not when everything was seizing up like this. “Evan!” he repeated, louder this time.

Even in his deep sleep, Buck must've realized something was wrong. One second he was dead to the world, and the next he was jumping up, tossing the covers off of them both.

“What? What's wrong?” he said, clumsily reaching over to the nightstand and turning on the lamp.

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut against the light. He didn't feel like seeing himself right now.

It took Buck's brain a few seconds to catch up to the sight in front of him. When he finally registered what was happening, he headed for the door. “I'm gonna get your meds.”

“No!” Tommy yelled, sucking in a breath. “D- Don't.”

“Tommy, you need your muscle relaxant.”

“I- I can't.” He managed to bring a hand to his throat, hoping Evan understood.

“You can't swallow right now,” Buck replied. It wasn't a question.

“Mhm. Just... Just-”

“Massage?” Buck guessed, getting to Tommy's side of the bed in record speed. “You think that would help this time?”

Figuring out the correct responses to these episodes was always a guessing game. Sometimes touch could make it worse. Tommy was pretty sure nothing could make it any worse right now.

“Mm... Mhm.” His jaw was getting so tight he could barely open his mouth.

“I'm gonna move you onto your side.” Very carefully, Buck turned Tommy's rigid body so he was facing away from him. It was an awkward angle, and he was having to do most of the work to keep Tommy on his side, but he managed to get into a position where he could start to dig the palm of his hand into Tommy's back.

At first, he was so tight Buck worried he was going to hurt him even more by massaging him. But, Tommy's breathing seemed to become a little fuller, and the groaning died down a bit.

So Buck continued. He'd alternate between using his palm, his fist, his thumb, to dig into the muscles and get them to loosen.

After a few minutes, Tommy had quieted down completely. His body relaxed into the bed as he flopped the rest of the way onto his stomach. The shaking in his legs subsided. He no longer felt like he was going to shatter into a million little pieces.

Still, Buck continued his massage. He worked up Tommy's neck, massaged his head, down to his shoulders, his back. He even massaged over his legs and feet, letting Tommy know what he was doing so he wouldn't think Buck had just left the room.

After about half an hour, Buck rested his hand at the center of Tommy's back. “Feel better?” he asked quietly, unsure if Tommy was even still awake at this point.

“Mhm. Thank you,” Tommy replied. He paused, blushing before starting to ask, “Did I... Do I need..?” He couldn't quite get the words out. Did I piss myself? Do I need to get up so we can change the sheets and clean me up?

It happened sometimes, when his body seized up. And while he nearly had full bladder control back, everything went haywire when it came to his spasms.

“No, you're good,” Buck answered, and Tommy thanked whoever might be listening that they were able to read each other's minds. “Think you can turn back over now?”

“Yeah. Yes, I- you'll have to help me though.”

“Of course.”

Once Tommy was resting comfortably on his back, head propped up under two pillows, Buck stared down at him. “You knew it was gonna happen today, didn't you?”

Tommy sighed. There was no point in lying. “Yeah. Not this bad though.”

“And you didn't take a pill earlier?”

“No.”

Buck sucked in a shaky breath as he nodded. He didn't answer. Didn't say a word. He simply turned and headed into the bathroom.

Tommy listened as he turned the sink on. It ran for a while, then Buck was back by his side. He ran a warm washcloth over Tommy's face, Tommy closing his eyes and melting into the touch.

Once Buck had finished wiping off his face, he started on his chest.

Tommy blinked his eyes back open, studying Buck.

He was tense, eyebrows knitted together as he focused on cleaning the sweat from Tommy's body.

Tommy's eyes drifted to Buck's hand, shaking ever so slightly.

He reached out and placed his hand over Buck's, gently gripping his wrist. Finally, Buck made eye contact with him.

“Please don't be mad,” Tommy said, knowing it was unfair even as he said it. Still, he hated to see Evan disappointed. Wasn't sure if he could handle it right now.

But as he looked further into Evan's eyes, he didn't see anger.

He saw fear, and sadness. Red-rimmed, wet with unshed tears that were threatening to spill over.

“M'not mad,” he replied, clearing his throat. “I- I'm upset. I don't like seeing you in pain, Tommy.”

“I know. I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to be sorry. Just don't do it again. I can't... I can't enjoy being with you- having sex with you,” he clarified, “if I think you're hurting yourself for it.”

“I know, Evan. I just... I just wanted to be with you tonight. Wanted to feel good. Wanted to make you feel good.”

Buck tossed the rag onto the nightstand, sitting down on the bed beside Tommy. “You know what makes me feel good?” he started, resting two fingers under Tommy's chin so he couldn't look away. “Seeing you comfortable makes me feel good. Us enjoying dinner together makes me feel good. Going for a walk in the evening, watching movies, going out for ice cream, you holding me in your arms, getting to hold you in mine, kissing you for hours and hours. All those things, plus like a million more, make me feel good. Sex is fun, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it because damn you've got some moves,” he said, getting a smile out of Tommy, “but it's not everything to me. You are everything to me. I know we can't always prevent spasticity, but when we can, it would make me feel good if we did. Got it?”

Tommy nodded, giving himself a few seconds before verbally responding. “You can't just say stuff like that to me, you know,” he said, choked up. “I'm a softy now.”

Buck scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully. “You were always a softy,” he informed Tommy, leaning in for a kiss.

“I'm gonna go get your pills now, okay?”

“Okay.” Before Buck could get too far, Tommy reached out and grabbed at his hand. “Hey. Have I told you lately that I love you?”

Buck cocked his head, giving Tommy a glare. “If you start singing Rod Stewart to me, I will divorce you.”

“No, seriously, Baby,” Tommy said, keeping a straight face. “Have I told you there's no one else above you?”

“I already know a good attorney.”

“You fill my heart with gladness,” Tommy continued, grinning, “take away all my sadness.”

Buck wriggled his hand free of Tommy's grasp, heading out toward the kitchen. “If you hear the front door slam, I'll be back later for my things.”

Tommy's smile only widened as he yelled out, “You ease my troubles, that's what you do!”

[stxrborne]

PRECISION

|| Feitan x neutral! Reader ||

|| dt to @after-witch @ddarker-dreams @depravitycentral for inspiring me to finally get off my ass and write, and also for their amazing works ofc! check them out! ||

It’s ironic, Feitan thinks, to sew up the wounds of his victims. But they can’t die just yet.

His thin, long fingers push the needle through the victims skin of their inner thigh, and he gives out a light scoff in mockery when they whimper. Little rich boy can’t handle a little pain? He hates these rich types that think they can pull one over on the troupe. They were fun to interrogate, they always worked up his temper where taking it out on them was something he looked forward to. Due punishment, not only for their bratty, pretentious attitude, but their lucky pull in birth circumstances. Feitan acts as their comeuppance.

He’ll give it to this victim, however, still holding on to the information despite it all. Usually his male victims would start spilling whatever they knew when Feitan picked up a hammer and pushed their thighs apart. But here his victim was, crying and whimpering, and now a eunuch, and still not speaking.

Feitan finishes his stitches with a clean knot, and sets the needle and thread aside on his medical tool tables. He likes to pride himself in his efficiency and perfection. After all, torture required just as much knowledge of the human body as a surgeon. The image of Feitan as a doctor, in a different life, flashed in his mind and he laughed aloud. Maybe. Maybe if he was born lucky. Maybe if he didn’t have to learn surgery and amputations from the cruelty of his home.

After all, doctors can’t save everyone. And he didn’t see the point in willingly putting that responsibility and burden on yourself. Especially for ungrateful rich brats.

No, it was much easier to take life than to protect it. Much more fulfilling too. Other people aren’t your responsibility.

How funny though, Feitan thought. To now have something to willingly burden yourself with.

His ears pricked up to his victim shuffling in his chains, and he turned to them. The man wasn’t remarkable, only one person really was in Feitan’s eyes. The only thing noticeable now was the man’s family crest Feitan had carved on the skin above his heart.

How can you claim to belong to something, if you can’t even mark yourself with it? When you die, how will people know where you belonged to?

Feitan takes the man’s face in between his hand, and moves his head around to inspect his work. He debated between leaving the cut next to eye, dropping a few drops of an infectious bacteria into it so the eye would eventually eat itself. It’d take about a week, and then another for the infection to spread to the rest of the body.

Feitan couldn’t help but smile at the image. He gripped his victims face with his nails, and told him so.

“It’d be funny to see you swell up with blood and pus. I wonder if you’d get fat like an ugly cyst, but you already don’t look all that different from one.”

He let him go unceremoniously, and watched as his head fell forward. Feitan will grant him the mercy of sleep. After all, a dog will still endure abuse if you feed it often enough.

“Feitan?”

He heard you before you reached the basement door of course. He knew where you were in the house at all times after all.

You knew you weren’t allowed to open the door. If you needed him, just knock or call his name. You think it’s because he’d have to kill you if you saw what he was doing.

He knows that, and thinks you’re silly. He wipes his bloodied hands with a clean cloth as he walks to the door. His eyes meet yours when he opens the door, and his gaze doesn’t leave yours as he closes it. You don’t even know what color the walls of the basement are.

Feitan looks you over, with the same precision he gives to everything. You’ve been picking at your hangnails again and for some reason you didn’t bother bandaging your thumb, where you had ripped and tore at the skin enough for it to bleed. Another thing is that you’re wearing nothing but a towel, which means one thing.

“I want to take a bath,” you say, your clasped hands nervously squeezing themselves. It was another thing you weren’t allowed to do on your own. You didn’t understand why, and you didn’t understand why he did the things he did. He’d set the water the way you like it, even though you don’t remember telling him. He scents it with fragrances and oils that you can tell are expensive, in your favorite scents too. He helps you in and then holds out your towel so he doesn’t see your naked body, and he swiftly turns and closes the curtain. He does the same when you’re ready to come out.

He has a chair he sits on, quietly and unmoving as he watches your silhouette. Maybe it’s a kink or fetish of some kind, you think. It had taken you a while to get use to. But something tells you it wasn’t that exactly. One time you had slipped when washing your body, and before you could fully gasp out in surprise, you were in his arms with his face to the side.

He didn’t act the way you expected a kidnapper would. But it still didn’t explain why you were here at all.

Feitan nods at you, and you lead the way. You’ve learned he preferred to be your second shadow than to be your leading light.

Your large bathroom was attached to your equally large room. Funny how you’ve started to refer to them as ‘yours’. It’s difficult not to, when he is somehow able to let you decorate it the way you want. Feitan does that often, you’ve found. No matter how expensive your request, and you have tested that, he will get it for you. You’re scared to ask how.

He begins his routine when you both step into the bathroom. He gets the water to the temperature you like and let the bath tub fill. The sound of the tub jets fill the air, and you watch as he drips expensive oils into the water. His movements are methodical, and somehow he’s figured out the ratio of water to oil that’s right for your skin.

Feitan doesn’t dare mix the water with his hand.

Your nose is soon filled with the scent, and you feel your tense shoulders slowly let go and relax. He’s watching you, you know that. He stops the faucet when the tub fills up, and you walk up the small steps and stand in front of him.

A part of you is always tempted to touch. His pale skin is smooth and such a contrast to his dark hair. This close, you can see just a hint of green in his black eyes, the way they don’t seem to blink. You wonder if he is even human.

You nod softly and he moves behind you. You can’t even feel his presence, hear his breath, and you slightly jump when he reaches to gently clasp the small fold that holds your towel up.

Feitan waits until you calm again to continue. He never touches you directly, not even a stray touch from any finger. He takes off your towel and spreads it as a barrier between you and him.

But then you do something that has his heart beating and stopping erratically. His breath catches in his throat, your gaze turning to him and he feels trapped beneath it. How do you not know how much power you have over him?

His eyes instantly move to the way you nervously bite at your lip. Somehow he can know everything about you, how you think, how you word those thoughts, and yet now, he can’t believe what he thinks you’re going to say.

“…help me?” You say slowly, so quietly that a normal person wouldn’t have heard you.

But you know he did. And you don’t drop your eyes from him.

Feitan, in return, lets the towel drop.

[wrrrenff]

How the Stardew Valley Bachelors React When the Farmer Injures Themselves

TW:// slight injury

Ahh... The crops have all been watered and the animals all have been fed. I deserve a snack!

The farmer starts their trek back to their farmhouse, thinking about what they might throw together in the kitchen. Suddenly you adorable pet bolts in front of you trying to chase a bird, and trips you! You land hard on the ground. You groan, your body feeling sore but overall fine, and get up. You dust yourself off only to notice that you landed on some sticks and they scraped up your arm pretty bad. It honestly didn't really hurt. It did look pretty ugly though. Hopefully no one will notice it once it's all cleaned up...

Harvey:

'Hey Far-'

Notices IMMEDIATELY

I mean c'mon of course he does. HES A DOCTOR

Doctor mode activated

Asks if he can take a closer look and fully inspects your arm

Asks what you used to clean it and scolds you when you say you just rinsed it off

Drags you back to his office and properly washes and bandages you

He's been so worried about what caused this the whole time but doesn't ask. He want you to share the cause only if you're comfortable

Let's out the biggest sigh of relief when he finds out it wasn't anything serious that caused this

Is on your ass making sure you are properly cleaning the wound and changing your bandage

Will softly kiss your bandages and forehead

'Thank yoba you have such an attentive doctor to take care of you'

Alex:

Despite how tough and nonchalant Alex may seem, I think he would be pretty worried and maybe even a little squeamish toward your injury

He does get injured sometimes playing gridball but the man is clueless when it come to caring for those injuries

He would usually just go to his grandma for help... which is exactly what he did with you

'Grandma can you help the farmer? They're hurt pretty bad. I-I just want to make them feel better'

After Evelyn patches you up, he grabs a blanket and something from his room then suggests you two go take a walk on the beach

Once at the beach he lays out the blanket and you both sit

That's when he pulls out his mothers music box and opens it, letting the soothing music play

'Mom would hum this while taking care of me and it always help me feel better. Maybe it'll be the same for you'

He will hold you and kiss you to help you forget about your pain

Shane:

I feel like he wouldn't notice immediately. Maybe 2 or 3 days after it happened and it's already pretty scabbed over

'Woah farmer, did one of you chickens get you?'

Tries to keep it together but is freaking out inside

Buys you a drink to 'help with the pain'

Gets a drink for himself to calm the fear of other things that could hurt you

Starts taking more 'walks around the valley' just to stop by the farm and make sure you stay safe

Sam:

'How'd you get that mean scrape farmer?''

He wasn't even fazed

He almost immediately assumed you just hurt yourself farming

He knew it couldn't be serious since you were still acting like your usual self

Sam has had some nasty injuries from skating around so he was a PRO when it came to cleaning and bandaging

Kept on you to change you bandages

Once he got a bad infection from not cleaning his scrape enough and he DOES NOT want you to have to deal with that

Will force you to hang with him and watch movies/eat snacks to keep you from overexerting yourself

Elliot:

If he sees your injury fresh I fully believe this man would faint

'Oh darling what happened? Did someone hurt you? Was it an animal? O-oh it was some... sticks? Those dastardly sticks!!"

Man will treat you like you broke you arm

I'm talking, making your food for you, drawing you baths, tucking you into bed, even doing your farming for you

You insist your fine but he wont hear it

Will cover your arm in kisses to make you feel better

Stays on top of cleaning your wound

He will definitely take inspiration from this moment for his novel

Sebastian:

Noticed it as soon as you walked into his room

He didn't want to say anything about it but you noticed his eyes were basically glued to your arm

His mind immediately went to the mines since he's seen you go in and out many times while he goes out to smoke

Is so relieved that is was just from some stupid sticks

He will absentmindedly rub the injury lightly when he's sitting near you

Lets you lay in his bed while he works to make you feel better, definitely not because he wants to keep an eye on you and make sure you don't hurt yourself more

[littlelamy]

I don't actually have an idea but I really wanted some angst for rafe 😭 I think rafe was written especially for angst lovers, best friend's brother and pogue reader. that's him coded. I don't really know what to ask but maybe something with him struggling to get clean (with his coke addiction and all) with a reader who's part of the p4l team, so she sees him in private and no one knows and he tried really hard to be better to not disappoint her

i hope you like it! ⭐️the sound of waves crashing against the shore barely registered as you walked toward the old, rickety pier, the sun beginning to set over the horizon, casting everything in a warm golden hue. it was a typical evening in the outer banks, but tonight felt different. you had been feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders lately, especially with rafe.

he was your best friend’s brother, the kind of guy who had a reputation for being reckless, but he was also the one you had developed a soft spot for. rafe had always been a part of your life, but recently, it was more complicated. he was struggling with his demons—his addiction to coke—and you found yourself constantly torn between wanting to help him and the fear of losing him to that darkness.

as a member of the P4L, you had seen the ugly side of addiction up close. it was raw and painful, and rafe’s situation was a constant reminder of the risks you faced living in the outer banks, where privilege and poverty collided. no one outside of your small circle knew the extent of rafe’s struggle, but you had made it your mission to be there for him, even when it felt like you were walking on a tightrope.

you found him at the end of the pier, leaning against the weathered wood, staring out at the water. his expression was distant, lost in thoughts that you could only guess. when he saw you, a flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly masked by a feigned nonchalance. “what are you doing here?” he asked, attempting to sound casual, but you could hear the tension in his voice.

“i wanted to see you,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. the breeze caught your hair, and you tucked a strand behind your ear, nervously avoiding his gaze. “i’ve been worried.”

rafe let out a short, humorless laugh. “worried? for me? that’s a first.”

“don’t be an ass,” you shot back, crossing your arms defensively. “you know I care about you.”

“yeah, well…” he trailed off, looking back at the horizon. “caring about me is a bad idea.”

“why?” you stepped closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “because you think you’re beyond help? or because you’re too proud to admit you need it?”

he turned to face you, his blue eyes flashing with an intensity that made you swallow hard. “you don’t understand. this isn’t some fairy tale where everything gets better if you just try hard enough. i’m fighting something that’s bigger than me.”

“then let me fight it with you,” you pleaded, feeling the heat of the moment pressing down on both of you. “you don’t have to do this alone.”

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he snapped, frustration spilling over. “what if i fuck up? what if i disappoint you?”

“i’d rather have you try and fail than not try at all,” you countered, your voice steadying. “but you have to want it, rafe. you can’t keep doing this—hiding from everyone and pretending like you’re okay.”

he ran a hand through his hair, the gesture both familiar and painful to witness. “i don’t want to disappoint you. i want to be better… for you.”

“then let me help,” you urged, reaching out to take his hand. he hesitated before accepting your touch, the warmth of your skin igniting something deep within him. “we’ll figure it out together. one step at a time.”

for a moment, silence enveloped you both, the waves providing a soothing soundtrack to the chaos in rafe’s mind. he looked down at your intertwined hands, the contrast of your warmth against his coldness serving as a stark reminder of how far he had fallen.

“you really want this?” he asked, vulnerability seeping into his tone. “you’re not just saying it because you feel sorry for me?”

“i want this, rafe,” you affirmed, squeezing his hand. “i want you. not the person you think you are, but the person you can be.”

“i don’t even know if that person exists anymore,” he admitted, the façade crumbling. “the drugs make me feel alive, but then i crash. and i don’t want to drag you down with me.”

“i’ve seen you at your best, rafe. you’re so much more than your addiction,” you said softly. “you just have to believe that.”

he studied your face, searching for any hint of doubt, but all he found was sincerity. it terrified him how much he wanted to believe you. “what if i let you down?” he whispered, the fear in his eyes cutting deep.

“then we’ll pick up the pieces together,” you replied, your heart aching for him. “you don’t have to be perfect. you just have to be you.”

for the first time in a long time, rafe felt the weight on his chest lighten just a little. he drew in a deep breath, steeling himself for the fight ahead. “i’ll try,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “but no promises.”

“that’s all i’m asking for,” you replied, relief flooding your senses.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the pier, you and rafe stood side by side, your fingers still intertwined. it wouldn’t be easy, and the road ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but for the first time in a long while, rafe felt like he had someone worth fighting for.

after a moment, rafe turned to you, the weight of your shared promise hanging between you. “you know, it’s not just about the drugs,” he said, his voice lower now, filled with a seriousness that made your stomach flutter. “it’s about everything. my past… my mistakes. sometimes, i don’t know how to let go.”

you met his gaze, your heart racing. “you don’t have to carry it all alone, rafe. you can share it with me.”

he stepped closer, the warmth radiating off him making you feel dizzy. “i want to,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “i want to share everything with you.”

as the last rays of sun disappeared behind the water, a heavy silence hung in the air. you could feel the tension building, the space between you charged with an electricity you had never experienced before. instinctively, you leaned in closer, heart pounding as rafe’s eyes flickered down to your lips.

“can i—” he started, but you didn’t let him finish. you closed the gap, pressing your lips against his. it was tentative at first, a mix of hesitation and longing, but as he responded, deepening the kiss, everything else faded away. the salty breeze and the sound of crashing waves became background noise as you lost yourself in him.

his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if he was afraid you might disappear. you melted into him, the kiss igniting a fire deep within your chest. it was everything you had been feeling for so long, a release of the tension that had built between you, and a promise of the fight ahead.

when you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, rafe rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. “that was… wow,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“yeah,” you breathed, still reeling from the moment. “wow.”

“i’m glad i have you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing your cheek. “this… this feels right.”

“it does,” you agreed, smiling softly. “and we’ll get through this together. one step at a time.”

as the stars began to twinkle above, you knew that this was just the beginning of something new—something that might just save him, and perhaps save you both.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @dinakisser @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Ruffling Feathers

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x gn!pilot!reader

Masterlist

Summary: "It’s not my fault that your callsign is a flightless bird, dumbass." OR You hated Rooster. And his mustache. ...Until he made it hard to.

Word Count: ~4.6k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers. Arguing. Quite a bit of swearing. Flirting. Jealousy. Depictions of a plane crash and hospital room. Some angst, some comfort, some suggestiveness, and lots of fluff.

*Reader's callsign is Spider

A/n: Guess I just love writing angry!Rooster lol. This one took me a little bit, but I'd love to hear what you think! Thank you for reading <3

--

Stomping through the corridor, your flight suit pushed down to your waist, you tried calculating how hard you’d have to punch Rooster to knock that ugly mustache off his face —- or at least the stupid smug grin he always wore. Maybe Cyclone would only give you a lecture since you’re doing everyone a favor by shutting Rooster up.

The pain from digging your fingernails into your palm did nothing to distract you from the anger rising through your body. Just when you’d get the fastest time on the team, there he’d be climbing from his plane with a time just barely beating yours. You’d answer one of Cyclone’s questions in class only for Rooster to correct you on the most insignificant detail — all with that shit-eating smile.

He was a careful pilot, one that didn’t always act on impulse. But he threw all of that out the window when it came to you, clogging the comms with his amused comments to throw you off concentration. You didn’t take that lying down, either. 

But today, the back-and-forth bickering came with a cost. He’d been in the middle of throwing an insult your way, even though you were on the same team, when Coyote shouted through the comms at him.

“You’re down.”

His only response came with a string of swears.

Phoenix quickly followed with, “Got you too, Spider” as she locked onto your jet too. Her words had you dropping your head back against the seat, realizing Rooster came last with you just barely above him.

All that fighting had thrown you off, making both of your flying sloppy. You told him as much on the tarmac as you both completed 100 push ups for coming out at the bottom. As a burn bled through your arms, you considered strangling Rooster. Maybe when he wasn’t looking, like in the shower. Not that you often thought of him showering.

But now, walking toward the locker room, your anger began to subside — despite the sweat dripping along the side of your face and your aching arms. But any hope for peace shattered when you rounded the corner, nearly bumping into Rooster. 

A scowl immediately overtook your expression as you stepped back, taking in his form — already clean and sweat-free. It only fueled the explosive fire inside you. “Watch where you’re going, Bradshaw,” you told him.

“You should’ve listened to that advice in the air today, sweetheart,” Rooster shot back, his gaze locked on you. He had slicked back his hair, the ends of it still dripping wet.

You crossed your arms, accidentally making your slick skin stick together. “Oh, eat shit. You sabotaged me on purpose today.”

“Oh, so trying to save your ass is sabotage now?” He lifted an eyebrow, that frustrating glint in his eyes.

“God, you just never shut up, do you? Clearly, ‘saving my ass’ didn’t work, did it? And maybe if you stopped talking for one minute, I could actually focus on flying instead of wishing my plane would ram into yours.”

“Me?” Rooster nearly shouted, his jaw ticking. He stepped just an inch closer when you nodded as if it were obvious. “You’re the one that kept saying I couldn’t fly for shit, and look who actually can’t.”

“It’s not my fault that your callsign is a flightless bird, dumbass. And that was only because you kept calling me an asshole,” you told him, now pointing a finger right into his chest.

He scoffed at you. “Oh, and I wonder why I’d ever say something like that, Spider.”

With how close his face was to yours now, you could pick out the pool of colors in his eyes or count the freckles across his tanned cheeks. And before another retort could come to mind, the sound of someone coming toward the two of you echoed from the other end of the hall.

You broke away from him, telling yourself that your quickened pulse came from how infuriated Rooster made you. “Whatever,” you muttered, sidestepping him and making the rest of the walk to the locker room, your heart in your throat the entire way.

Ripping your flight suit off and finally getting clean, even with shaky arms, you finally took a slow breath. Your fingers rubbed down your face as water from the showerhead dripped along your body. You scrubbed until your skin grew angry with you — but you just let the water wash away the day, the setbacks, and any thoughts of Rooster, promising yourself that you wouldn’t let him get the better of you again.

And you’d kept your word for a little bit, biting your tongue when he tried to get under your skin. Turning the other way when Hangman joined it to revel in the teasing. Instead, you let Phoenix rip him to shreds when they got on her nerves too. Things quieted down even — hallway spats became silent head nods as you passed one another. You’d call that a win, especially since his mouth stayed shut.

It certainly became easier to tune him out when flying, just focusing on you and the plane speeding through the air. Hangman gave an instigating laugh, but all you saw was the course to run. Breathe in, breathe out. You were a good pilot.

And when you came back down, Cyclone congratulated you on getting the fastest time of the day. You nearly waited for the inevitable “But…” that followed after Rooster, but it never came. Instead, you were met with a pat on the back from Bob and Phoenix and no extra push ups for the day. 

Your body felt lighter as you walked to the locker room, back to your room, and even all the way to The Hard Deck. Fresh and wearing clothes that actually fit well, you entered arm-in-arm with Phoenix to the bar.

You two ordered drinks, chatting with Penny as the place grew busier as the night passed along. She quickly became too distracted to keep talking, but you just sipped on your drink, enjoying the good mood. More pilots arrived, giving you the chance to talk with them in between turns at the pool table. 

Coyote even convinced Bob to a game, goading the rest of you into placing bets. The laughter and smiles between everyone brought a glow to your vision. You and Phoenix were the only ones to bet on Bob winning, but it was worth it for his wide grin.

And despite Rooster also showing up, in that horrible Hawaiian shirt of his, you still managed to avoid him and keep civil. He didn’t even try to instigate anything — though that didn’t stop you from looking away any time he caught your eyes on him. But the competitive game going on proved distraction enough.

Coming down to the final shot, the game had every pilot leaning in. Several of them threw comments out to distract Bob as he lined up his shot. But a smile broke out on your face as Bob sunk the 8 ball, beating Coyote, and leaving both of them with looks of complete disbelief. 

You threw up your hands, clapping louder than all the booing. Others eventually joined in despite their losing bets, cheering for Bob’s unexpected victory. The way Coyote shook his head had you giggling until your stomach hurt. 

You gave a congratulatory pat on Bob’s shoulder as you thanked him for the money he won you. Collecting the pool of cash along with Phoenix, you told her, “Going to head to the bar, spend my winnings on another drink.”

She gave you a smile before you weaved through the crowd. Over the cheers and music, you asked Penny for another drink as you counted up your winnings. Plenty happy with the amount, you waited, turning around and resting your body back against the bar’s edge. The bubbling warmth never left your body when you hung out like this. Though a voice to your side broke you from the moment.

“You can put that drink on my tab, actually. Thanks.”

Turning, you were met with a handsome man you hadn’t seen here before. As Penny handed you your drink, you gave her a gracious nod. 

“Thank you, um…”

“Will,” he answered for you with a smile. And he certainly did have a nice smile. “To celebrate your victory.” He nodded toward the pool table, raising a beer to your drink.

“Well, he did all the work,” you laughed, leaning forward just an inch, though it was enough to pick up on the comforting scent coming from Will. You happily took a sip along with him.

“But you were smart enough to bet on him.”

A smile broke out on your face, gesturing out a hand as you said, “See! Finally, someone recognizes my gambling prowess.”

He bit back a grin of his own as he leaned his head in closer. His finger pointed toward the pool table again as he asked, “Alright, so since you’re an expert, who’s going to win the next one?”

You felt the heat of his body radiating onto you. The waves of it proved slightly distracting as you saw Hangman and Fanboy racking up the pool balls. Still staring at them, trying to hold back the warmth rushing to your cheeks, you said, “Tall, blond one definitely. He’ll cheat if he has to.”

“Okay, I won’t be going up against him then,” he laughed.

You turned back to Will, watching him run a hand through his dark hair. Did you wish your hand was going through his hair? Probably. 

He then asked, “Since you know how to pick winners, what are the odds of you beating me in pool?”

Raising your eyebrows, you told him, “Never seen you play, but I’d have to guess that you’d sink two in before I win.”

Lifting up his hands in surrender, Will shook his head. “Fair enough. I won’t put money on the line for that game. But…” he said, dragging his eyes across you, “what are the odds, then, of me taking you out sometime?”

You tried fighting the grin etching along your face at his cheesiness, not that you minded all that much when it came with that smile. As you were about to respond, the last person you wanted to see snuggled right up to your side.

“Hey Spider, Phoenix’s been asking for you,” Rooster said. His arm rested against the bar right behind your back, the weight of it along your spine.

You looked between him and Will, your teeth grinding together. “I’m sure she can wait a minute, Bradshaw.”

“Said it was important,” he insisted, smiling the entire time at the two of you. 

“Fine,” you muttered, offering a fake grin to Rooster. “I’ll be right back,” you told Will.

You pushed past Rooster, weaving through the crowd once again with your fist clenched. Of course he had to show up. You shook your head, willing yourself to keep him from getting to you.

Back with the team, you came back to find Hangman in the lead against Fanboy and quickly returned to Phoenix.

“Hey, what’s up? What’s going on?” you asked, hoping something terrible wasn’t happening.

But she sat there, beer in hand and a wide smile until she processed your words. “Just watching them play. What’s wrong?” Her eyebrows furrowed together. “Does it have to do with that hunk chatting you up over there… Oh, where’d he go?”

Your face twisted as you turned, standing on the tips of your toes and straining your neck to see over everyone. Right where you and Will had been was now occupied by strangers, the man nowhere to be seen. But you did find Rooster as he walked back toward your team.

“No goddamn way.” You muttered it under your breath, your face dropping in disbelief. “Hold this, I’m going to kick Bradshaw’s ass,” you told Phoenix. The blood rushing through you pounded in your ears, blocking out anything she might’ve said.

“Where is he?” you asked, venom laced in your voice as you walked up to Rooster. The laidback hang of his shoulders and that dumb fucking mustache nearly made you scream your words at him.

But Rooster just raised an eyebrow at you, holding his beer. “Where’s who?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to take a breath. “Will. The man I was talking with before you interrupted, remember?”

“Ah, right. He left, had to go somewhere.”

“God, Rooster. What did you say to him?” you asked, shoving a finger into his chest. “Though I don’t know why I’m asking since you’ll probably lie like you did about Phoenix.” You crossed your arms, squeezing them against your body.

Rooster sighed, bringing his beer up to his mouth to take a sip. 

“Look, I’ve seen him around here before. Goes home with someone different every time.”

Scoffing at him, you stared daggers through his eyes. “You’re so full of bullshit. Even if that is true, I can find that out for myself, okay? You’re not my dad or something.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to save you from getting your feelings hurt,” he said, pretending to put his hands in the air like he was innocent. “God knows how bad we’d crash and burn if your heartbroken ass did worse up there.” 

You stepped back, feeling like he knocked the air from your lungs. Pushing past him, your shoulder hitting his, you left The Hard Deck — not even to find Will. You couldn’t handle either of them right now, not when you had to deal with Rooster ruining your night while pretending to care about you.

After that, for your sake, you’d made it your mission to stay away from him as much as possible. You refused to acknowledge his comments or even look his way. Classes were quieter, and insults were no longer thrown across the halls at each other. At least you wouldn’t be misplacing your trust again.

You had other teammates you could rely on, could trust with your life. But either fate hated you or Cyclone loved drama because he paired you up with Bradley Bradshaw once again — as if the universe and the class had to have another laugh at your misery. You just nodded your head at Cyclone as he named the two of you off, standing so still as if it could help you disappear.

Talking rose again as duos came together to discuss the practice exercise. But not the two of you. Your hard stare just fixated on the horizon. Even hearing him clear his throat set your body on edge.

“I’m, uh, sorry for how last weekend went,” Rooster offered, rocking back and forth on his heels.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, not needing it to cause a lecture from Cyclone on how to work with your teammates. Your refusal to give an answer left a space of buzzing silence, one that Rooster filled again. “Didn’t mean to sabotage it, but I’m not letting a dickhead mess with my friends, alright?”

“Friends?” you asked, finally turning to look at him. “Is that what we are, Rooster?”

“Look, we’re on a team. We watch each other’s backs.”

A scoff escaped under your breath. “Oh, like when you got the both of us killed the last time we were on a team?”

As the words left your lips, Rooster placed his hand on your shoulder. The grip made you look at him straight, the sound of everyone else drifting to the background. “I never tried to sabotage you up there. I really tried to save your life. Okay?” His fingers squeezed when you didn’t answer. “Okay?”

With scrunched eyebrows, you said, “Okay, fine. Doesn’t mean you don’t flood the comms with useless talking to distract me, though.”

As his hand dropped back to his side, he raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh, so I’m distracting to you?” And there it was, that Bradshaw smug grin back in place. A small part of you in the back of your mind, or the left side of your chest, had missed it.

You weakly pushed against his arm, shaking your head. “I’m going to rip your mustache off.”

Cyclone called you all to start the exercise, the two of you among the first up. As you walked to your jets, Rooster said, “Oh, so you’re thinking about my mustache now? I understand, she is a beauty.”

You let out a long groan while fighting back a smile, which he absolutely saw through, before pulling on your helmets. Climbing into the plane and strapping in, you let the few moments of silence before flying into the sky center yourself again — to not let Rooster, good or bad, get in your head.

It was a regular dogfighting exercise, one that’d become part of the curriculum since Maverick came through. But it’d be you and Rooster against Hangman and Payback.

In the air, before it even began, in the buzzing quiet before it all descended into chaos, Hangman flew past you much too close for comfort. It shook your jet, making you let out a long sigh. You looked to your side, watching Rooster give you a thumbs up before Cyclone appeared in the comms. 

“First team to get a lock on both members of the other team wins. That easy,” he told you all.

That easy. They were good pilots, you all were. It’d be a long fight.

Immediately, you and Rooster split off in opposite directions. He climbed higher toward Hangman as you dropped, aiming for Payback’s jet.

Payback broke left, rolling his plane to the side as he evaded you. The world around you, the wispy clouds and landscape below, blurred past. Each time you came close to locking on, he’d pitch up or hit the throttle — always keeping you just out of reach.

“Spider, Hangman’s closing in on your six,” Rooster said through the comms.

In an instant, all of your focus on trying to eliminate Payback now switched to evading in any way you could.

“Almost got you now, Spider…” you could hear Hangman say. Your jaw clenched, your muscles squeezing harder with each passing second.

Braking hard, you rolled right toward the nearby cliffs, trying to keep him from locking on. You gained altitude with the little time you had of shaking Hangman for just a second, flying back around until you saw Payback in your view again.

If you went for him, Hangman would certainly be back on you in an instant.

But Rooster’s voice hit your ears. “Go for it.”

With those three little words, you threw your trust into Rooster. You sped up, diving for Payback and leaving Rooster to cover you. And he did. Without a second thought.

“Got lock.”

“You’re down!”

Your voice mixed with Hangman’s, two simultaneous kills. Hangman left Payback at your mercy. Rooster sacrificed himself to Hangman.

“See you back at base, Spider. Give him hell,” Rooster said, his jet peeling off and heading in the opposite direction alongside Payback’s.

You pulled up, looking all around for Hangman — until he showed up on your radar just below you.

“It’s almost too easy,” he drawled with that lazy laugh. 

Hitting the brakes, you pulled behind him. Just as you angled down, close to locking on, he rolled left, pitching the plane up and trying to loop behind you.

The two of you switched back and forth, the unrelenting sun piercing through the glass. Sweat began to bead along your forehead, dripping down to your neck.

Only once you’d chased Hangman toward the cliffs did you gain any sort of hope of taking him down. His flying became just a bit more reckless, giving you a chance to counter his maneuvers. Your lock grew closer and closer to his jet, your victory on the tip of your tongue.

The lock sound began to buzz as you said, “Got y-”

Your plane shook as something rammed into your plane. Only once Hangman’s voice shouting “Bird strike!” did you register what happened. 

The damage done to your jet’s engines appeared at once, the jerking of your jet ate down to your core.

 “Left engine out,” you panted, pressing the button to cut fuel to it as you tried gaining altitude. Your body felt heavy, falling back into the seat with panicked breaths. The right engine quickly caught too, leaving your dashboard blinking every warning light it could manage. Your stomach climbed into your throat as you lost control, the plane beginning to spin out.

Your hands shakily wrapped around the ejection handle, your lungs feeling squeezed tight. Pulling as hard as you could, your seat flew from the jet. Between the jerk of your body as the parachute released and the fiery crash of your plane into the ground a few moments later, you barely saw anything before hitting the desert all too fast.

You vaguely remembered rolling, or maybe the world was spinning, before you were consumed by darkness.

–

In flashes of memories, you caught the intense whirring of a helicopter, vague shapes of people rushing around you, and… was that Rooster? You couldn’t be sure, not when the pain took hold of your body, pulling you down under again.

–

The echoing emergency alarms of your jet slowly bled into the beeping of medical machines, the light of the sun into bright fluorescents above, and the lingering voice of your team… stayed.

As your eyes fought to open, the world came into focus in bits and pieces. Your throat felt so dry and painful — but it left your mind when the aching of the rest of your body rose to the surface. The groan tumbling from your mouth only fueled the sting.

But he did help, ready at your side and telling you to take it easy.

“Hey, Spider. Slow down. Hey,” Rooster pleaded, his voice desperate against your ears. But only once his hand gingerly wrapped around yours did you finally stop fighting.

You turned to look at him, mind still fuzzy. But it wasn’t hard to focus on him, your gaze unable to rip away from the dark honey of his eyes. 

“Hi.” His whisper entwined around each curve of you, settling onto your skin like a blanket you never wanted to take off.

You grabbed the cup of water he handed you, gulping it down until it soothed your throat.

“Hi,” you finally returned, offering a slight smile. Laying back in the bed, feeling the slight pull of the tubes attached to your body, you asked, “So, what’s my damage?”

Your head lulled to the side, watching Rooster slightly relax at last. The clench of his jaw eased, his shoulders fell.

“Nothing that could stop you. Fractured bone here, internal bleeding there…” he joked, but his grin didn’t reach his eyes. “But you’re alive. You’ll be just fine.”

That eased your nagging thoughts, though you guessed he said it for himself as much as he said it for you.

You squeezed his hand, loving the weight of it on yours. “Thank you.”

He nearly rolled his eyes, as if to say that he didn’t deserve it. “For what?” he asked, the taste of bitterness dripping from his words.

“For having my back, Rooster.”

You said it like it was the most obvious thing. It was to you. Even though he didn’t always show it in the way you’d expect, or even like for that manner, he was there.

He nodded. “You’d do the same for me.”

You would. In a heartbeat.

He whispered, “We all heard you on the radio as it happened. I made them let me on the helicopter to rescue you… Thought you were gone. Couldn’t handle it.” His hand rested over his mouth, his eyes fixed on the ground.

“I’m here, okay? You said it, I’ll be just fine,” you told him, wanting to pull him in if you weren’t stuck in this bed. But then his words registered. “Wait, you forced yourself onto the rescue helicopter? Are you insane?”

You smacked his arm, scoffing at him. You teased him, but it brought a smile to his face.

“That’s what you got from that? Okay, this is the last time I admit to caring about you,” he said behind a wave of laughter bubbling out.

Though all it did was further fuel you, bringing a disbelieving look to your face. “Oh my god, Rooster. I get it now. You were totally jealous of Will.”

“Oh god, why would I be jealous of that tool?” he groaned, pulling away from you. “I think your pain meds are too strong.”

“Calling him a tool like that is such a jealous thing to say!”

“Not if he’s actually a tool.”

You brought your hands to your lap, playing with the sheet as you said, “Wow, who would’ve thought that Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw actually cared abou-”

“I know you didn’t have to do those push ups with me, Spider,” he interrupted. He looked straight at you then, not even fighting his kind smile. “That punishment was only for last place, and you didn’t get last.”

You pursed your lips, feeling a heat rise to your cheeks under his gaze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, trying to give him an innocent look. But you did, and you knew that he had gotten last trying to save you, even when the two of you bickered, so you paid the price with him.

His eyes softened. “I think you do. And I think that you also care more than you let on.”

Goosebumps erupted across your skin as Rooster grabbed your hand again, his thumb rubbing along the backs of your fingers. You stared down at where your bodies intertwined as you asked, “Did you really wait here for me the whole time?”

He nodded, his swept-back hair falling forward. But at your growing smile, he warned, “Spider, don’t ruin this.”

“You’re just a big ol’ softy, aren’t you? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like like me.” You laughed despite the ache that came with it. It meant you were alive, after all.

Rubbing a hand down his face, he said, “I think that’s enough. You’ve ruined it. Happy now?”

“Quite.”

After a comfortable silence spread through the room, just the sounds of your breathing and the machines beeping, Rooster said, “I do like you. Hope you know that.”

The flutter in your chest spread through your body, pushing the pain to the back to be replaced by a floating feeling. You didn’t think it would take so much for Rooster to admit his feelings, but you supposed it didn’t surprise you. 

He looked to you, worry etched into the curves of his face as he waited for your response. It barely looked like he breathed, sitting frozen still until you answered.

Shaking your head, you told him, “Rooster, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’m really going to rip off your mustache this time.”

A wide, toothy grin overtook his face. “There you go again about my mustache… You’re obsessed, aren’t you?” he said, his hand moving to rest on your cheek.

Rooster inched closer, careful to not put any weight on you or cause any pain. “Is this okay?” he whispered against your lips.

But impatience ran through you, making you twist your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him against you. Melting into him, you thought this felt better than any painkillers the doctors could prescribe you. It made you dizzy and craving more, until you were broken apart by Phoenix obnoxiously clearing her throat from the doorway.

As he kissed you one more time, the rest of the world drifting away, you couldn’t quite say you hated his mustache anymore.

--

@reidslovely

[boughkeeping]

That Itoshi Sae!

"you're a pain in the ass"

"I'm YOUR pain in the ass"

Itoshi Sae x fem!reader enemies to lovers but it's actually one sided :p high school au let's pretend he studied 💀 songfic

Listening to your currently favourite song Everybody's talks by Neon trees and walking hurriedly to your school, ball just smacked the back of your head almost making you tumble and instead of being greeted with an apology you got a simple "pass the ball"

♫I could hear the chit-chat

Take me to your love shack♫

"I'm telling you- if I wasn't in a hurry that day..." Your friend concerned at your current rising blood pressure gave you a playful pat on your back "okay calm down do you know his name?" You hissed "that's the issue, I don't I was in a hurry that time"

She sighed "Do you at least know what he looks like?" You bit your lower lip "of course! Pink or red head with ugly bangs" "I think the only one with that hair colour in our school is Itoshi Sae" "He's gonna get it- THAT ITOSHI SAE!" and that's exactly when someone coughed behind you.

A very familiar guy behind you two. "You......" do you call him a cunt? Asshole? Would it be too hyper for you to do so? "...have no manners!"

He simply put his pinky finger in his one ear and walked away squeezing himself between you two to make way.

♫ I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time

I found out that everybody talks ♫

You swore you don't want to see his face again but as if the fate and universe collaborated together to make sure nothing goes your way here you were with that Itoshi Sae cleaning the grassy grounds at the back of your school as a punishment for being late again.

He was too quiet, you disliked that. Because it prevented you from getting any reason to go off at him. "saysomethingsaysomethingsaysomething" you stared hard into his back profile as he was brooming away the leaves.

You didn't know but he felt goosebumps up his spine, he turned back to look at you with an eyebrow up a 'something the problem?' expression but you just looked away and pretended to ignore him.

After a good twenty seconds which wasn't even long you couldn't hold it in anymore, the incident embarrassed you, your airpods falling into the drain as the ball collided with your head. It all flashed in ur eyes again.

"hey." You called out, he didn't respond. "Is he for real?" "Hello?" You called out again but he didn't respond, you wondered if he was deaf. "Earth to Itoshi???" Still no response you walked with heavy steps and pulled him by his collar "Excuse me mister you're surely not deaf?"

"tch" he hissed, "Wow you're seriously gonna pretend nothing happened yesterday?" He dug his ear again "What happened?" He played dumb.

Seriously that Itoshi Sae....

♫Hey honey, you could be my drug

You could be my new prescription♫

This was severely getting out of hand now, your lunchbox just got knocked out by that Itoshi Sae again. Him and his dumb ball. You got up and marched towards him, all eyes on you two.

You grabbed his collar "See I don't know if you're doing this on purpose or not but get that stupid ball anywhere near me again and the consequences won't be good"

He dumbly tilted his head towards where your lunch had fallen down "oh?" Was all he uttered, "Is that all you have to say!? You have no manners do you!?"

He sighed and put his hand over yours to remove his collar from your grip "I'll treat you to lunch" normally you'd refuse but you were seriously hungry this day because you skipped breakfast, you could swear you saw a smirk for a split second on his face. You huffed and marched towards the canteen "I'm robbing your wallet dry by the way"

♫Hey sugar, show me all your love

All you're giving me is friction ♫

He didn't come to school for two weeks, probably busy with his football bla bla bla stuff you hated it even more, the fact he's actually almost professional at something.

But hey why are you suddenly reminded of that fool? Is it because you saw reddish brown roses on the way? "That Itoshi Sae....cabrón" you hissed as you got into the bus and then again as if fate wanted to tie you two together regardless of your wish,

he was right there in his seat at the corner.

All the seats were empty. You'd want to pick the seat farthest from his. He was sitting at the corner like a loner his earbuds were in, seems like he didn't notice you entered. It hit you, you could do the funniest thing right now.

You sat next to him with a stupid smirk on your face, but he paid no mind. In fact, he didn't even flinch. You waved your hand in front of him that's when he finally turned his head to you.

He didn't even say anything but the 'what do you want?' expression on his face was clear. "I came here to piss you off" you announced and he simply pointed his finger towards his earbuds and waved his hand, it gestured 'I can't hear you over my music'

You just gave a quick sigh and opened your phone, to turn your Bluetooth on but it hit you that your airpods were done for good, obviously because of the guy next to you right now, wait why is an earbuds open to connect on your screen?

You quickly plucked an earbud from his left ear and it was the first time he had an expression other than that dumb deadpan face, his eyes looked a little shocked.

You put that earbud on your ear and.....nothing was playing.

"Were you pretending to not hear me all this time?"

He looked away "yeah."

He looked away expecting you to be mad or start yelling already but instead for the first time his open left ear where you just snatched his earbud from was graced with a genuine laugh from you instead.

You connected your Bluetooth with his, "Seriously? You're so stupid....hah"

A music played, he usually doesn't listen to this type of song but he liked this one for some reason. Maybe because you played it? Or not who knows who cares.

♫Never thought I'd live to see the day (ooh-ah)

When everybody's words got in the way, oh!♫

The song was over and you got up, what surprised you was he grabbed your wrist, "My earbud" you slightly pulled out your tongue and removed your wrist from his grasp. "Not returning till you get me one, payback bye!"

♫I could hear the chit-chat♫

Take me to your love shack

The club meeting was over and being the vice president it was your job to close the classroom after putting the files in place, that's when you saw the magenta haired guy with the badly cut bangs stand firm and in a straight position behind one of the pillars.

"Sae? What are you doing h..." He put a finger over his mouth as his eyes moved toward his right, the teacher was there in a distance.

After a few seconds the teacher left. "You're bunking classes? Not so very academic weapon of you"

He relaxed his shoulders and crouched down "I don't even look at my report cards" you chuckled "You don't look at it because you know you're too good or because you know you're too cooked?"

He put a hand over his cheek and looked above at you, "What do you think?"

Fuck he was kind of cute "wait what?" You realised "what?" He asked.

You immediately gave a disgusted look at him and started to walk away "shut up!" He mumbled "I didn't even say anything..."

Unknown footsteps were heard and the both of you like scared deers looked at each other.

The teacher opened the door to be greeted by an empty classroom. "No one's there? I swear I heard... whatever" he left.

Now currently under the table "why are you hiding?" Sae asked. "You're right why am I hiding too?" You asked as well. "And you're the one who called me stupid..."

You laughed "If you were smart you would've realised I'm giving you company right now"

He looked at you with doubtful eyes "yeah right..." you defended yourself "Hey don't look at me with those eyes, you know what your eyes make up for your bad haircut"

"They're pretty"

The table was a little small and your heads were close, Sae too for some reason his demons told him let him be possessed.

♫It started with a whisper

And that was when I kissed her

And then she made my lips hurt♫

He put his hand over your chin and SMACK!

"ARE YOU CRAZY WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO SOMEONE YOU HATE" you immediately got up banging your head on the table, but recovering quicker than super glue you got up again and ran away.

♫Hey sugar, what you gotta say?♫

He didn't appear to school for three weeks again, you were worried he dropped out because of last time. 'haha no way he'd drop out because of something like that right?....right?'

You banged your head hard on the table concerning your friend beside you, in doing so something made a noise beneath your desk.

It was brand new box of airpods with a note

"Sorry and also,

I don't hate you. Never did."

You didn't need a name on the note to guess who it was, You got up immediately and shook your friend "Hey which class is Itoshi Sae in?"

♫It started with a whisper♫

He heard the heaviest footsteps of his life as he was leaving the class at last in the empty corridors. Turning around who else could it be if not you?

You were panting so hard your words were heard in a ghostly whisper "f...uck...the stairs agh hahah" you walked to him and slapped his shoulder very hard "I don't hate people who don't hate me either stupid"

He rubbed the place you slapped him at looking like a victim, you hissed "You're a sports kid you can take that much!"

He suddenly leaned into your face.

"So you don't hate me?"

"not anymore....but!"

"It's wrong to kiss people you hate?"

"...uh...yeah!"

"but now we don't hate each other anymore?"

"you're twisting my words now-"

"So I can't kiss you still?"

"That's not what it means... you're so insuffera-"

And that was when I kissed her♫

Already cut off with a kiss, but you didn't smack him this time, you gave in.

"You're a pain in the ass"

"I'm your pain in the ass"

And then she made my lips hurt♫

I could hear the chit-chat♫

"He looks happy today" you talked about Itoshi Sae that was walking towards you, your friend raised an eyebrow squinting her eyes "Huh? He looks the same what do you mean"

You opened your mouth "He clearly looks like he's in a good mood today" she couldn't believe you "he looks the same okay? Yeah sure only you can read him"

"Oh that Sae he's calling for me, see you later!" You hurriedly scurried to his side.

It doesn't take long for your friend to get hundreds of questions of the same kind "didn't they hate each other?" To which she simply responds "Would take one to know one"

♫Take me to your love shack

Mama's always gotta back-track

When everybody talks back♫

[tinytennisskirt]

A Chaotic Reunion: Part Two

Part 2 Summary: A continuation (find the first part here). ChildhoodBest friend!Art visits the reader's gallery before it opens and asks reader on a date only to have it ruined by Patrick, who is going through something. Things are unconventional, but Art still ends up in the reader's bed by the end...

Warnings: Patrick being suggestive, drunk Patrick, (touching, kissing with Art)

You woke up earlier than usual, nerves, somehow waking you before the alarm. But you used your time wisely. You showered with the good soaps and sprayed your perfume fresh out of the steam. You got ready, fixing your hair up and doing your makeup. You got dressed in your regular business casual work clothes, style, but comfort first.

Julie was up and chatting like she didn't get home and crash on her carpet before you and your other roommate saw and pulled her into her bed. She had a miraculous luck that never let her be hungover the next day, you joked that she was the drinking messiah.

“You’re heading in early?” She asked, passing you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with cucumbers on the side for breakfast. Not the usual, but it was fun enough.

“Yes, I have a friend coming to see the art and I thought he would like it better if it was just us. Without me having to tend to the potential buyers who you know can be a pain in the ass." You told her. Your other room main Shailene hummed.

“That guy from last night?” She grinned.

“There was a guy?”

You chuckled, “Yes. An old friend though, genuinely. From childhood. His name is Art, he’s a… tennis player in town for a tournament, I think."

“Art Donaldson,” Julie said. It didn’t sound like a question.

“Yeah?” you said, surprised. “How did you know that?”

She looked disbelieving, “The only Art in tennis I know is Art Donaldson, no way that’s your childhood friend- he’s hot, Y/N. He’s mega-hot, no way.” Shailene laughed from the kitchen as you ate your food.

“He is mega-hot, Y/N,” she chimed in. “He was totally eyeing you down too, I saw from when I was approaching that man was down bad.”

“He was not,” you laughed. He might have been. Your boobs comment from the night before rang out in your brain and so did how he reacted. Hmm… maybe he was, but not majorly. You weren't ugly, you couldn't rule it out entirely. “But I’m showing him the gallery is all.”

“Mhm,” Shailene hummed again.

“Okay, shhhh,” you said, setting dishes aside and going to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You heard the girls out in the living room whispering about looking up his tennis highlights. You shook your head- you’d gone to sleep last night watching those. “See you later!” You called to them as you spun out the door. Best to avoid more interrogation and just let the morning unfold.

You drove over and opened as usual, keeping the sign on the door saying closed. You ensured everything was tidy and clean and just as beautiful and colourful as the days before. You went through a few gallery emails, replying and sending. And on time, there was a knock at the door. You fixed the sleeves on the black long-sleeve shirt and adjusted the square neckline dip as you walked over to unlock the door.

“Hey,” he said. He had two coffees in hand, iced coffee. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you answered with a smile. He smiled right back and extended you an iced coffee. You were glad it was iced, hot coffee on a warm morning would just feel too corporate. And gross. “Thank you! You didn’t have to.”

“I’m not bringing nothing for the woman giving me a private tour of her gallery. Plus, I need it after last night," he said. You moved out of the way so he could come in. His eyes widened as he met the colourful surroundings of the gallery. “Wow- this is amazing.”

“My team and I hand-pick everything,” he spun and looked at you. You put a hand to your forehead, “I’m in work mode. My friends, my roommates and I we pick the art. We went with a theme of colour because we thought it is one of the most universal things about art is that there is colour. Sometimes shade, but when you think art, you think colour.” You gestured to everything. “An ode to that.”

He listened to you intently and walked with you as you showed him the gallery, piece by piece explaining things. He would joke, you’d joke back, and the banter was sweet and easy. You caught up on life, more. Talked parents and school and local town things. You sat on a bench overlooking one of your biggest pieces. “It’s nice to speak to someone not so involved in tennis.” He said, looking over at you.

“I was thinking I didn’t bring it up enough,” you replied, eating the ice out of your finished coffee. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” he nodded. He turned more your way so that your knees touched. “Everyone in my life talks about tennis more than their own children, family, accomplishments. Even I talk about it too much. You and the art here- it’s been good to hear about something like this.”

“I’m glad the gallery could be your escape,” you said. “And I’m happy you like it and I will GLADLY speak about anything other than tennis because I know nothing other than hitting a ball back and forth.”

He laughed, “Perfect. That’s all you need to know.”

“Oh phew,” you sighed. It was nearing opening, you heard your roommates come in downstairs. His head turned. “I’m glad you came to see it though. Escape or no escape.”

“Me too. It’s really impressive what you have here for yourself. And it’s been great seeing you, everything you’re doing is amazing and beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Your eyes met his, blue with bits of brown, those long eyelashes. “I wasn’t even sure what I was doing was worthwhile.”

“Probably more than,” he replied. “This gallery is amazing and you're doing it with your friends? Most people can't say they love what they do let alone that they do it with people they like and actually know. I'm jealous, honestly. But I know you open soon, so I should probably be on my way... Do you get off at nine?

“Most days,” you replied. “I can leave a bit earlier today since I started and did the opening process an hour before we opened. And thank you. I needed to hear something like that."

“Always." He said, standing. You stood with him, taking a second to toss your empty cup into the nearby bin. "-And perfect- I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner? Late… dinner. With me.” He asked, hands shoving themselves into his pockets. Your eyes widened a bit. Was he asking you out? “Is there a local place maybe? I’d love to be shown around a bit more if you have the time.”

“Of course- I-“ you fought a wide grin. “I’d love that. There’s a little Italian place just a few doors down from here or there’s an Indian place two blocks from here… or the sushi place a bit closer to my apartment. They’re all open late.”

“Sushi sounds good,” he said, standing up. “So do I call the number on the business card when I pick you up here at 8:10?” He flipped the card between his fingers.

You chuckled. He would pick you up? From work? That was his plan… “Oh, here- you grabbed the card from him, took the pen from your belt loop, and scribbled your number out for him. He grinned his crooked grin and your heart fluttered just a bit. “I’ll see you, then.”

“Sounds perfect,” he said. You both headed down the stairs of the gallery, past your friends who were doing a bit of near-afternoon filing. “I’ll call. Thank you for this, I think I needed it and I will for sure be back.”

“Sounds perfect,” you echoed. “See you later.”

He kissed you on the cheek before saying goodbye and exiting out the front. You turned around and the second he was no longer able to hear, both Julie and Shailene squealed. “The cheek kiss? So cute!” Shailene said, raising her hands above her head. “He so wants you, I honestly wouldn’t have minded if you two went at it against the Rosenthal in the corner.”

“That’s enough,” you smiled.

“Is it?” Julie asked. “Not so much as a kiss?”

“It’s 11am!” You said. “Who kisses someone at 11am? Besides it’s a bit different, we have so much history. Childhood together versus now, I think I’m having trouble not seeing the little blonde boy who would burp for a laugh." That wasn’t true, that image faded last night as you dreamt about him. There was no more little boy in Art.

“Okay, but what was that ‘see you later’ business?” Shailene asked.

“He asked me to dinner,” you started. Both girls opened their mouths to speak. “It’s probably friendly! I have no idea what his intentions are. He said he’d pick me up at 8:10, if I can get off early tonight- is that okay with you guys?”

“More than,” Julie squealed. “I’ll stay at my boyfriend’s tonight, Shai, you can come with me if you want? I have clothes you can wear there.”

“Hold on-“

“He’d be fine with that?” She asked Julie. Julie nodded excitedly.

“Perfect,” Julie said.

“I’m not bringing him back to the apartment!” You said. These girls were too forward sometimes. “We're just catching up."

“That’s what the early opening was for? That’s what dinner is for?” Julie stated, as if it was common sense. “Shai and I are more than happy to get out for a night. You deserve some good sex.”

“How would you even know if he’s-“

“He’s a tennis player! There’s gotta be some force there.” She continued. “You can run home on lunch break and get one of my dresses if you like. Or anything. Just don’t wear work clothes, you won’t be able to let loose that way.”

You nodded. Shailene grinned. “Maybe wear that midi-dress with the slit up the thigh. Ooh, with the red mary-janes!”

“Ooh,” you smiled. “Okay, okay. I’ll go on lunch.”

“I’m so excited for you!” Julie clapped. It was a matter of getting through the day. All day, you three talked about him and your childhood, what drove you two apart, etcetera. At lunch you went home and grabbed the clothes and some of your makeup to touch up on. You worked the rest of the day with a few buyers coming in. It neared 8 and the girls were still just as excited.

Your phone rang. “Is that him?” You asked? You were in the bathroom in a spare moment just getting changed and touching up.

“It’s him!” Shailene ran your phone to you. You smiled and picked up.

“Hey,” you said.

“Uh- hey-“ he sounded preoccupied, you could hear he was in the car. “So I really was looking forward to dinner with you, but my best friend is going through something right now and he is inconsolable in the manly way, which if you know what that’s like, he might be a bit out of control.”

He was cancelling? You shut the door to the bathroom. “That’s okay, I understand. Are you cancelling?”

“I don’t really want to, so if you’re fine to meet a friend, I would love to see you still. I just can’t leave him alone, you know?” He said. “I am so sorry, Y/N. This is the opposite of what I wanted for tonight and I completely understand if you would rather it be just us. We can reschedule."

You shook your head as if he could see, “No, that’s so admirable that you’re keeping him close. Don’t be sorry whatsoever, I promise it’s okay. And if you don’t want to cancel, I’m still free.”

“You promise it’s okay?” He asked. “I am so so sorry I would usually never do this, I promise I will make it up to you.”

You laughed, “It’s endearing! I don’t mind. He’s okay though?”

“He’s okay but on a level where I’m not sure what he’d do if I wasn’t around,” he replied. “I’m picking him up right now, I’ll be there in ten if you still want me?” Of course, you did. It was unconventional, but it was okay.

“Sounds good,” you replied. “I’ll see you soon. Don’t worry too much, okay?”

He chuckled, “I’ll try. See you soon.”

You said goodbyes and hung up. You I immediately updated your girls on the situation and they were disappointed but were sure it would still be good. And soon enough, Art’s car pulled up outside and thank god, his friend wasn’t in the front seat. You waved goodbye to your friends, grabbed your purse, and left, getting into the car. It was nice, clean.

“Hey, you look-“ he started, “Wow.”

“I didn’t want to wear work clothes out or I’d feel like I was still at work,” you told him. You turned in your seat to face another man. He seemed tall, with dark curls, and a bit of facial hair. You recognized him as Art’s tennis partner.

“Patrick,” he said, giving you his hand to shake. You shook it, he smiled.

“Oh, I know,” you grinned. “I’m Y/N- wow, two tennis stars in one car.”

“Okay, as if.” Art said, putting the car in drive again. “No tennis talk, for both mine and Patrick’s sake.”

“Done,” you said. “I don’t have enough tennis content in my head to remark on anything anyways. So the sushi place is just by my apartment, if you take a right up here, then pass two streets and a left, then you’re there.”

“Perfect,” Art said. “How was work?”

“Not too busy today, we had one of our regular buyers in today and sold two pieces to him, but the rest was marketing, emails, and planning for a gallery event.”

“What kind of event?” Patrick asked from the backseat. You half-expected him to stay quiet from the greeting that was just his name.

“Oh, it’s a bit of a sale where the proceeds go to a local children’s hospital for funding,” you told him. “Every year me and my coworkers put it on and it’s usually pretty successful.”

“That’s impressive,” Art said.

“And considerate,” Patrick added. “You’re big on charity?”

“When I can be,” you replied, and you turned back to Art. “The event is in a few weeks, lots of shrimp, so if you want to come just let me know.” Art looked over at you with a soft smile.

“I’d like that,” he replied, seemingly happy that you’d invited him. You smiled back. “You’ll have to send the details.”

“I will for sure,” you told him. You got to the place in no time and Art parked the car. “This is it. It’s a cute place, open late, I can’t tell you how many times me and my roommate have had a random craving at 1am and came down for sushi. That’s my building right over there.” You pointed across the street.

Art looked over, getting out of the car, then back to you, eyes lingering on your dress. “They’re open that late?”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “And the sushi is amazing.”

Patrick got out of the car and rose to be about as tall as you imagined. He was a bigger guy than you had observed from the dark of the back of the car. More muscle mass to his body, visible in his t-shirt and cargo shorts. “I’m starved.” Is all he said. You looked at Art and he mouthed another ‘I’m sorry’ and you laughed quietly, hitting him gently in the arm.

You all headed in, got a table, and started ordering immediately. Patrick wondered what the Japanese alcohol was like and ordered some for the table. You didn’t feel much like drinking, but it was headed to the table anyway. You and Art filled Patrick in on all the details of the games you played as kids and he took pleasure in teasing Art about playing the ‘girly’ games.

“Hey, I looked good in the princess shoes,” he said as Patrick reached over and ruffled his blonde hair.

“It’s true. And there was no way I’d let him pretend to be a prince because that meant we would have to kiss, because you know that’s what princesses and princes do,” you said. Patrick chuckled. "- And he rocked the crown and dress as well.”

“A crown and a dress? You were her bitch at age nine?” He laughed at Art, who pretended to hide his face. “I’m impressed, but I’m not surprised. I mean look at her now. Big-time gallerist who runs charity events.”

You pretended that didn’t land as if it was flattery, blinking it off. Art raised his head. You ate another California roll.

“Yeah,” Art said. “It’s not like she didn’t play guns with me.”

“If you ended up a princess and she ended up with a toy gun, that’s a bit telling.” Patrick added. He poured himself a bit of the drink he’d ordered for the table. It was more than a cup.

“He was a bit under my thumb… I was a bossy child,” you joked. Art nodded and smiled. Patrick downed his drink. “I’m not so bossy now.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Patrick grinned a wide grin and part of it was suggestive.

“Is it?” You questioned.

“I’d say so. I think Art would agree. Nothing is wrong with a bossy woman as long as it stays-“

“Okay…” Art said, almost dismissive.

“Hm,” you hummed. You tried the drink, but it was bitter, not for you. Patrick picked up that you hated it from the look of disgust and poured your share into his cup. “I’m collaborative, I think. You’d have to ask my friends because now I’m rethinking.”

“Collaborative is okay too, I don’t complain,” Patrick said, drinking more. He had a slight smirk on his face. Art shook his head and looked at you, your mouth stayed a little open from the words you'd just heard. “You know Art told me he ran into you but he didn’t say anything about how gorgeous you are.”

You felt a bit cornered, your cheeks feeling a faint bit of pink just from the situation. Art rubbed his eyes and rested his chin on his fist, pouring himself a little bit of the alcohol and drinking it. “Thank you,” you replied. “I wish I could reply with anything of the sort but I wasn’t expecting anyone else with us tonight.” You tried to laugh it off.

“Okay, Patrick,” Art came in, dismissive again. “Come on.”

“What?” He said, hands up in questioning. “You said dinner with a friend- I didn’t picture someone like her. You can’t tell me she’s not gorgeous.” The bottle was somehow more than half-gone. You weren’t sure what to say.

“She is- but Patrick, please.” He urged him quietly and you pretended not to hear. Patrick was for sure tipsy and was for sure flirting. All you focused on was the ‘she is’.

“Me? Come on? You’re all stiff, Buddy.” Patrick downed another cup you hadn’t even seen him pour. You understood what Art meant by going through it- something was up with him for sure. “Look at her, look-“

“Thank you,” you said again. Art looked at you apologetically. You took back the bottle of alcohol and drank right from it, just a swig. Disgusting but you probably needed it. “And thanks for coming, honestly. It’s been good meeting you.”

“You’re scaring her away, Artie,” Patrick said, ruffling Art’s hair again. Art looked embarrassed, to say the least. The Japanese alcohol was surprisingly strong. You guessed that was why it was so bitter. Patrick must have been well on his way to full drunk if a swig brought a fuzz to your vision for a moment. It passed.

“I think we should get out of here,” you said. Art nodded immediately. He got up faster than you could and went to the counter to pay. You couldn't even object. Your eyes followed him, tracing your eyes over the long-sleeve dark green shirt he was wearing with pants that looked really nice on him. You wondered if that was what he wore to games- it was nice- but looked comfortable. You wished he wasn’t paying.

You looked back at Patrick, who had just finished off the bottle when you weren’t looking. You were in trouble now. “You really are gorgeous. Are you single?”

“Uh- I am, but-“

“I’d love to take you out,” he said. “I’ll ask Art to send me your number.”

“Maybe…”

“Are we done flirting with Y/N?” Art said, coming back with a huff, sliding a card back into his wallet.

“Hardly,” Patrick grinned. You couldn’t help but smile at that response, it was funny. Art helped Patrick up, letting him lean on him. Art’s eyes practically projected an essay of apology. You were watching the alcohol sink in slowly to Patrick, he was getting worse, it seemed. And when you got into the car, Art put the key in the ignition and the car did not roar to life. It sputtered.

“Fuck!” Art exclaimed. “I knew I should have taken her in earlier. I’m sorry, the car has been on its last legs for a month or two now and I was going to get it fixed, but I put it off-“

“It’s okay,” you told him, hand on his upper arm. “Does it need a jump?”

“I’m not even sure if that would save it,” he laughed, almost, but it sounded fake. Patrick’s laugh from the back seat was very real. “Fuck, I’m sorry guys. I’ll call a cab.”

“Do you want to come back to mine?” You asked. “Just across the street, you can crash there if you’d like. My roommates are out tonight.” Might as well make use of the empty apartment.

“Really? I don’t want to impose,” Art said. He looked you dead in the eyes, looking for something genuine in you, almost disbelieving you'd be so kind to take in his fucked up friend.

“I wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t what I wanted. It’s probably best we get him somewhere secure fast- he’s had a lot.”

With a nod, you and Art got out of the car and started pulling a drunken Patrick out and over to the apartment. You and Art tried your best to ignore every pass he was making at you, calling you pretty, saying your nicely the colour of the dress went with your skin, talking about the slit of the dress. And you dealt with it all the way up the elevator and as you unlocked the door.

Patrick stumbled in and Art guided him to the couch. “Colourful,” Patrick said, “But bright.”

You dimmed the lights with the dimmer and shut the door behind you. “We keep some art here. Stuff we’ve bought, thrifted, found."

Art took a second to look around. “It’s nice. Really nice,” he said. Patrick sat up on the couch and looked around for a remote. You tossed it to him. “Which room is yours?”

You pointed to the one at the end, “Second biggest room. We drew straws.” You told him. Patrick looked like he had no idea how a remote worked. He put it down and got up, staggered and swaying. You looked at Art and Art looked at Patrick.

“Can I talk to you?” He asked you, dismissing Patrick. You nodded and pulled him to the kitchen just a bit more away from the drunk stranger in your living room. The second you were alone, he put his hands to his head. “I am so sorry about this. It’s one thing to bring your friend out when you ask a girl to dinner, but another to have him off his ass and go back to her apartment because your car decides to kill itself.”

“Art-“

“I know- because you’re kind and you’re sweet and perfect- that you don’t mind, but that doesn’t mean I don’t. You have no idea how sorry I am for all of this, but I promise you I’ll make it up to you.” He said, eyes on yours, his hands on your upper arms the same way they were when you bumped into him. Gentle, soft. “Thank you for this though, I really appreciate you giving us somewhere to go and I swear it won’t happen again.”

“I do promise it’s okay,” you reassured him, fighting the urge to laugh. He was sweet, worried, but sweet. “Thank you for apologizing though it’s not needed. Shows your character.” He smiled a little, but his eyes widened. You felt a hand on your waist, less gentle, less asked for. Not the hand you wanted there...

“Patrick-“

You turned, stepping away from his grasp. You didn’t know what to do or say. “You smell amazing,” he said, slight slur to his words. “Do guys ever tell you that?”

“Not often,” you replied. “What’s up?”

“Can’t get the TV to work,” he replied. “But if you have any idea of what we can do instead, I’m all ears.” He was so drunk. Japanese alcohol was a quick fix, apparently.

You slipped past and back into the living room, followed by the men. You could hear Art whispering to Patrick behind you as you grabbed the remote and turned the TV on.

ART DONALDSON US OPEN HIGHLIGHTS

In bright white splayed across the top of the screen started playing. You covered your mouth and closed it as fast as you could. You forgot your roommates were watching that this morning- your heart skipped a beat from humiliation.

Fuck. You put on the first thing you saw, some cop comedy movie. You turned it down enough for it to be background noise and Patrick crashed on the couch again. And he was silent.

Art walked over to you, “US OPEN highlights is crazy,” he said quietly, leaning on his arm against the wall you had your back to. “I have better games than that.”

“Mmm, so you saw,” you replied, voice hushed. You felt your cheeks flush just slightly. “My roommates were watching it once they found out you were coming to the gallery early.”

“So they know all about me then. They’re fans,” he said, fake-boasting. You smiled and shook your head. "Sometimes I hate tennis. I can never be mysterious and unknown."

“They think you’re hot mysterious or not. They’re a fan of anyone who is hot. You should have seen how my roommate Shai got about the hot mailman from downstairs- she practically made a fanpage. I swear we had a shrine for him somewhere.” You told him.

“And I don't get a shrine yet,” he laughed. You two kept quiet, leaning against the wall behind the couch. Patrick stayed quiet.

“Tennis player is somewhere high on Shailene’s list, I’m sure I could set you up,” you shrugged.

“What, that’s crazy. You don’t think I’m hot?” He teased. “Is it the crooked smile? I’ve been told it’s crooked.”

“Nobody hates the crooked smile, I promise.” You told him. And that exact crooked smile crept up his face. You smiled back. “I think it’s quite nice.” You added.

“Oh just nice, hm. That’s like me saying you look good.”

“Do I not?” You prodded. “And I said ‘quite’ nice.”

“No, no, you look quite good,” he replied. You smiled and hit him in the arm playfully. “I hate saying it because I know Patrick beat me to it, drunk and all, but you do look gorgeous. And I’m sorry it wasn’t just us tonight.”

“I know you’re sorry, but it’s not the end of the world. You are allowed to stop being sorry, I swear it’s okay,” you replied. Patrick coughed loudly. “Here, come in-“ you stepped into your room and turned on the lowlight lamp in the corner, casting dull orangey light around your room. You sat on your knees on your bed and he sat with you. “My room.”

He shut the door and looked around. And he was gorgeous, observing the things in your room. How he looked under the golden lamp light, over his features, over his curls. You were alone. He looked at you, “Your room is so comfortable.” He said. "I'm too used to empty hotels with fluorescents."

"Yuck, I couldn't live if the only lights I had were white, they need to be warm or I feel like I'm at the doctor."

"Oh, it's the worst. Especially trying to wind down at night, even the lamps buzz with the same feeling as the dentist." He said. "You have so many books and... so many pillows." He chuckled, referencing the pillows on your bed, on your desk chair, in the corner of your room. He sat on the bed next to you, close to you, still observing. You watched his jaw as he looked up at the ceiling to your stain glass light fixture and the art on your walls. It was silent with the low rumbles of the voices on the tv just outside your room.

It hit you harder, in the silence of the room with the closed door, that there was nobody else here with you. No Patrick in the room. Nothing between you two. You felt a bit like you’d just put down a baby to sleep, finally.

“Is it also hitting for you that we are alone for the first time? I feel like we just put Patrick down.” Art turned to look at you, shifting his body a bit on the bed.

Your eyes widened, “I was thinking the same thing! Like he’s a child we sent to bed finally.” You laughed.

He laughed. “Exactly!” He had a nice laugh. You leaned forward into each other as you laughed and his hand rested itself on your knee. Your forehead touched his shoulder just barely.

And surprisingly the laughing lasted a lot longer than you imagined. Every time either one of you tried to catch your breath you’d just start laughing again and it was contagious and all-consuming.

But it ended the second he kissed you.

His hands slipped over your jaw and around your ears and he pulled your face to kiss, lips meeting perfectly in the centre. It was sudden but it was natural and it was easy and you kissed him back immediately, slow, compared to the pace of the day. His hand slowly slid from your jaw, down your neck, to the back of it. Your hand slid down his chest and around his back.

He didn’t stop, he didn’t pull away. He just got up on his knees, kiss unbreaking, just as strong, and leaned you back so your head hit your pillows gently. He situated himself above you, kissing you and kissing you right. The way he kissed was better than anything you’d ever had, it was gentle but still strong and wanting as his hands traveled down your waist and yours migrated to around his neck. The giggling had ended for sure as he kissed the side of your mouth, then your cheek, your jaw, over your ear, your neck. Your hand slid up into the back of his hair, finding a grip on the curls.

Your legs wrapped around him, your leg slipping through the slit in the dress, pressing against him. His hand slid down your thigh and over your near-bare hip. his grip on it perfect. If you could have pulled him closer you would have, but in this circumstance it would mean something you weren't quite ready for tonight.

He kissed your neck and collarbone softly, nose grazing your skin as he went along, soft lips pressing to each point until they met yours again. Hungrier, faster, he gripped your hip harder, but enough. His hand slipped further up your dress through the window of the slit, hand on your waist now, your underwear the only thing under it, but ignored by him. He was touchy but in the right way, hand on waist, hip.

You sighed heavily as he kissed over to your ear again, lower lobe, just behind your ear, moving your hair out of the way. It sent goosebumps trailing over your skin.

But you couldn’t help but giggle, the laughter from earlier catching up. He stopped and he moved back over you, face to face. You kept giggling and kissed him once more, a small peck. He grinned. “What’s so funny?”

You laughed again, just a giggle. He kissed you again and you both rolled over in the bed toward the wall and you nearly hit your head but it just made things funnier. He laughed too, placing a hand behind your head to keep it from hitting the wall again. You sat over him, hair falling in both yours and his face. “What’s so funny?” He asked again, but he was laughing now too. And you kissed him again. Just as strong, just as passionately, quieting things again.

Patrick stayed quiet for the rest of the night, presumably passed out on the couch. You and Art spent the rest of the night laying together and talking more, the way you would have if your date earlier had gone well. Talking, kissing freely, a lot of laughter but enough shushing as to not wake Patrick or anything.

"You do smell really good," Art said, brushing your hair behind your ear.

"The communal date-night bodywash bottle," You told him. He found that really funny. "And vanilla perfume."

You kept laughing, talking, connecting. It was easy, like you'd never parted ways. But eventually, he fell asleep. You followed soon after and fell asleep with him, your head on his chest. And it was a rocky, but good night in the end. A good place to resume not only friendship but maybe something else. You’d have to wait and see.

[toournextadventure]

movie night drabble i

Summary: The ever elusive Tara Carpenter finally makes her appearance at your brother's frat party. Maybe you'll kiss. Okay, you'll definitely kiss.

Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: swearing, smut 18+, underage drinking, slight violence Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader A/N: I got a little more goofy with R in this one because I wanted to try something a little different with my writing, so I hope y'all enjoy! movie night i | movie night ii | movie night iii

"Hey," your brother Alfie shouted over the music blaring throughout the frat house. "Carpenter's here."

You turned so quickly you spilled the vodka from your cup onto your shirt.

"Ah fuck," you mumbled, dropping the now-empty cup without a care in the world. Not like it was your frat house, why should you keep it clean?

You promptly bent down to pick it back up. Your Ma raised you better than that.

"Where is she?" You asked, once again searching for any sign of the younger Carpenter girl.

"You don't see her?" He was teasing you. It was evident by the stupid, smug look on his ugly mug.

"She's 5 foot nothin’, no I don't see her," you argued back.

“Over there,” Alfie pointed, and you followed his finger as best as you could.

“Where are you pointing your crooked ass finger?” You asked.

“See Frankie?” He asked in frustration. As if it was your fault he had crooked, broken fingers. “She’s talkin’ to him.”

“Ah shit,” you mumbled when you spotted Frankie and, finally, Tara. “Take my cup.”

You didn’t wait for him to agree before shoving the cup into his arms and making your way through the crowded frat house. As much as you wanted to see Tara, you didn’t want to see her with fucking Frankie. No one was worse than that prick. You and Alfie were pricks too, but at least you both stayed respectful. Frankie just wanted to get his rocks off with whatever girl gave him the chance.

Unfortunately, it looked like Tara might be that girl.

He was standing a little too close for comfort by the time you finally shoved your way past everyone. That annoying little voice in your head reminded you that Tara wasn’t yours and you had no right to her. And that voice was correct! But that didn’t mean you were going to stand aside and let fucking Frankie get his greasy hands on her.

“Hey Frankie,” you said with an obnoxious smile and a painfully hard clap on his shoulder. “How ya doin’?”

“Hey,” he said without even looking at you.

“Hi Tara,” you said far softer and with a much more genuine smile. At least you hoped it was, you were starting to feel a bit of that vodka settling in.

Tara opened her mouth to answer before being cut off by Frankie. “Need something?”

Think of something good.

“Yeah, actually,” you said with a shrug, “but we might wanna talk in private.”

“Just tell me now, Street Rat,” he said quickly. “I’m busy.”

Think of something good.

“It’s just,” you sighed, “I wanna make sure you get yourself checked out, man.”

“For what?”

“I was just talking with Skye earlier and she said she got the clap,” you said with a shrug. “I know you two are fuck buddies so you should probably watch out.”

“You serious?” He asked, suddenly standing up and looking far more furious as he crushed his beer in his hand.

“I’m doin’ you a solid, man-”

“-you gonna say this shit in front of Carpenter?” He asked, now standing toe-to-toe with you. Admittedly you may have underestimated his reaction to such a ploy. Should’ve come up with something less good.

“Dude chill, I told you we should talk in private-”

“-didn’t tell me it was about the fucking clap.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be tryin’ to fuck every girl that looks at you.”

You heard the crack below your eye before you felt it, a painful punch spiderwebbing across your cheekbone and eye. Nothing you hadn’t felt before, but Frankie could pack a punch when needed. Tears instantly pricked at your eyes as you recaught your balance and stood up, trying to blink away the pain. And tears. And humiliation.

“Say it again, Street Rat,” Frankie said.

“Hey, that’s enough,” Tara tried to say, doing her best to stand in between the both of you. Not that it mattered, she was too short. It was pretty cute, actually. “Y/N, let’s go.”

Don’t say it.

“You’re a man whore, dude,” you said anyway. He clenched his jaw tighter. “A man whore with the clap.”

You moved Tara out of the way and braced yourself when Frankie lifted his fist again. Thankfully he had dropped the beer can; you could already feel something warm trickling down the side of your face. If he was going to hit you then he needed to do it like a man, not with a weapon. Pop always said only cowards used weapons against unarmed men.

Maybe you should have been a coward.

The punch never came. When you re-opened your eyes, you saw Alfie standing there in between the both of you, creating the buffer Tara had tried and failed to become. His back was to you but you could tell by the square set of his shoulders that he was tense. And pissed. Oh god, he was pissed.

“Go home, Frankie,” Alfie said in his heavy Bronx accent. Like most everyone in the family, it came out more when he was tense. Or angry. Oh, he was angry.

“Not until I get an apology,” Frankie said as he pointed to you. “To my face.”

“Not my fault you’re collectin’ STDs like they’re fuckin’ Pokemon, man,” you said back. Shut up!

“Come here-”

“-enough!” Alfie shouted, pushing you both back. Not that you needed the encouragement, your cheek was still throbbing from the first punch. “Get the fuck out, Frankie.”

“I’ll be back for you, Street Rat,” Frankie said with a finger pointed at you. Like the mature adult you were, you stuck your tongue out at him before giving him your best New Yorker smile.

“Now,” Alfie insinuated with a push on Frankie’s chest, guiding him to the front door.

With one more look at you, Frankie finally made his way out of the frat house, pushing past whoever was unfortunate enough to be in his way. He was barely out of sight before you felt a hard slap against your stomach, forcing you to double over. You felt like you were going to puke. Maybe you would.

“Quit startin’ fights, you moron,” Alfie said as he grabbed your shoulders and stood you up straight again. “I’m gettin’ real tired of defending your sorry ass.”

“Pop always said I was a slow learner,” you said, your own accent coming out just enough to irritate you. With a slight scowl, you focused harder on your words. “I’m sorry.”

“Better be,” he said with a sigh. Finally, he turned his head to look at Tara. “You good, doll?”

“I’m fine,” she said with a shrug.

“Be careful with Frankie,” he continued. “He’s a real prick.”

“He’s a-”

“-not a word from you,” Alfie interrupted you with another slap to the shoulder. “You started this whole mess.”

“Coulda finished it too if you gave me the chance,” you said, rubbing your now sore shoulder and still trying not to puke from the blow to the stomach. Maybe those fireball shots weren’t necessary.

“Would you mind taking our little menace upstairs and cleaning the blood off?” Alfie asked Tara. “I’d appreciate it.”

Tara looked at you at the suggestion, really looked at you. Just that one look from her was enough to have your heart beating out of your chest like a Loony Toons character. Oh what you wouldn’t give to have her look at you all the time, whether in malice or admiration or love. Just to have her eyes on you would be enough to leave you happy and content until the day you died.

“Fine,” she said with a sigh, reaching forward to grab your hand. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t test her,” Alfie whispered to you as Tara pulled you away.

You just wiggled your brows suggestively at him, to which he promptly threw his hands up in defeat.

Tara led you throughout the frat house as if she had lived there her entire life. It was almost amusing to see someone so small moving through the crowd without any trouble, as if people knew there was a child among them and they needed to make sure not to step on it. Wait, maybe you shouldn’t be comparing her to a child. But, come on, she was small enough.

By the time you both managed to stumble up the two flights of stairs to the third floor, you were very much starting to feel the alcohol and the bruise that was blooming across your cheek. It was going to smart, that was for sure. Tara pushed you into Alfie’s room - by pure coincidence, surely - and shut the door behind her, locking it promptly.

“You’re a prick,” she said the moment she turned back around to look at you.

“I was protectin’ you,” you said, taking a deep breath in and exhaling slowly to ease the accent. “Frankie’s a prick and you know it.”

“I didn’t need protecting,” she groaned. “I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

“You wanna get the clap, be my guest,” you said with a shrug.

“Does he really have it?” Tara asked doubtfully.

You closed your mouth and looked off at Alfie’s closet. If you didn’t look at her, maybe she wouldn’t force you to answer. Even with the music pounding through the walls, you heard her sigh. You shouldn’t have lied, that annoying little voice in your head said. Sometimes you hated your subconscious; it was usually right.

Tara’s hand gripping your jaw made you flinch, which then made the throbbing in your cheek resume once again. Say what you wanted about Frankie, but he could pack a punch. Probably would’ve been better to just leave him be. But then Tara pulled your chin to face her, and you were instantly reassured that no, you absolutely should’ve gotten him to leave.

“He cut your cheek,” she said as her eyes left yours to look at the wounds that adorned your face. “Have anything to clean it with?”

“Here,” you said, leaning back just enough to pull your shirt over your head. Tara’s eyes went wide before she did her best to look anywhere but at you.

“Please put your shirt back on,” she said, still not looking at you.

“It’s got vodka on it anyway,” you said as you shoved the shirt into her hands. “Nature’s disinfectant.”

“It-,” she turned to look at you incredulously. “Are you stupid?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” you said with a grin. “Just clean it already, I’m braced.”

Tara shook her head slowly, but grabbed your jaw once again to hold you still. Her hand was soft; incredibly soft, actually. Depending on how she held you, you could almost see that scar of hers. An angry pink that looked like it didn’t really want to finish healing. She probably needed to put some cream on it, maybe you could ask your Ma for a bit of advice.

You hissed when she dabbed the vodka drenched shirt on your cheek. Oh, now you remembered why it wasn’t a good idea. It got the job done, sure, but it hurt like a sonofabitch. But you squared your shoulders and stayed still until she was done dabbing it. Even though it seemed like she was cleaning it a little more forcefully than necessary.

“Does Frankie actually have the clap?” Tara asked again while she finished up.

“Have you slept with him?” You asked in return. She gave you a frown before looking back at your cheek.

“No.”

“Then yes he does,” you said with a nod. “Plus a few others, he’s like a breeding ground for ‘em.”

“You’re disgusting,” she sighed before straightening up.

“Listen, if you wanted to get laid tonight, you could’ve always asked me,” you said with a shrug. You hoped it came off as nonchalant, even though you were totally chalant about it. Was that even a word?

“What makes you think I would want to sleep with you?” Tara asked as she crossed her arms over her chest. It didn’t distract you from noticing the slightest flush to her cheeks.

“Because you think I’m sexy,” you said in a sing-songy voice, “and you wanna kiss me.”

“Anyone ever told you you’re annoying?” She asked.

She did not, however, stop you from reaching out to grab her by the hips and pull her until she was standing between your legs. Even when you were sitting she was barely taller than you. Her arms uncrossed so she could rest her hands on your bare shoulders, causing you to shiver lightly. You were going to blame it on the alcohol.

“You can call me whatever you want,” you said, your eyes darting down to look at her lips. “As long as you call me.”

“This is only because I’m drunk,” Tara said, her own eyes looking at your lips. Bingo.

“Of course,” you said as your thumbs slipped under her shirt and rubbed her hips lightly.

“And if you tell anyone, I’ll kill you,” she continued.

“Naturally," you agree.

The alcohol coursed through you, leaving a heat in its wake. But it was nothing compared to the inferno you felt in your core when Tara practically surged forward to kiss you. She wasted no time parting her lips for you, letting you taste every inch of her. She tasted of cheap beer and lemonade; surprisingly unsurprising.

"Were you smoking?" She asked as she pulled away; you chased her, leaving a trail of kisses across her jaw. "You smell like smoke."

"Which answer gets me laid?" You asked between kisses.

"You're insufferable," she groaned.

She pushed against your shoulders until you fell back against the bed. Almost instantly, she climbed on top of you, straddling your stomach and placing her hands on your ribs. Her nails were short, but still long enough to scratch your skin lightly, sending another shiver through your body. It was a nice feeling. Painfully nice.

“Don’t try to romance me,” Tara said as she looked down at you; her pupils were blown and she looked absolutely beautiful.

“Just a fuck?” You clarified.

“A quick one,” she said with a nod.

“Clothes off?” You asked.

“On,” she corrected.

“Yes ma’am,” you said quickly before letting your hands push under her shirt, nails lightly scratching across her skin until you felt the underwire of her bra.

You waited, watching her to make sure she consented. The alcohol may have been clouding your judgment ever so slightly, but you weren’t Frankie. When Tara looked at you and nodded, you wasted no time in pushing her bra above her breasts. The moment your knuckles brushed against her nipples, her head slowly fell back and she exhaled sharply through her nose.

That inferno in your core only grew hotter when you rolled her nipple between your thumb and forefinger and her hips stuttered against your stomach. Oh it was a beautiful sight, to see Tara lose even the slightest bit of her composure from such a small gesture. You did it again and had to bite your lip to keep yourself from groaning at the movement of her hips.

“Don’t tease,” she said breathlessly, her nails digging deeper into your ribs. A stunning sting that you hoped would leave marks.

“As you wish,” you said in reply.

One of your hands stayed right where it was, brushing lightly against her nipple just to see her shiver. Your other hand moved down, unbuttoning her jeans with surprising ease that you blamed on nothing more than the alcohol. With nothing else in your way, you effortlessly slipped your hand under the waistband of her underwear, letting out a humiliating moan when you felt just how wet she was.

“Jesus, Tara,” you said breathlessly as you ran your fingers through her folds before stopping on her clit.

“Just shut up,” she said between clenched teeth.

It was an uncomfortable position for your hand to be in, though you wouldn’t change it for the world. Your wrist was at an awkward angle, you couldn’t do much, and there wasn’t much room to move. But that didn’t mean much when Tara was doing most of the work for you, rutting her hips against your hand as if you were good for one thing and one thing only.

“Don’t move,” she gasped, confirming your suspicions. You didn’t really care.

“Fuck,” you groaned as you watched her move, her nails finally splitting your skin ever so slightly. It wouldn’t bleed, but there would be red marks for the next few days. 

Even though Tara wasn’t touching you, there was something satisfying about watching her get herself off on your fingers. Seeing her eyes squeeze shut and her mouth fall open when she hit just the right spot. Feeling how wet she was and how effortlessly she could rut against your fingers. No shame, no regrets, just the pleasure of the moment.

God it was hot.

You watched her as she came, her hips stuttering, giving you the opportunity to finally help out and rub tight circles on her clit. Just enough to sustain her orgasm for a few seconds more. She exhaled sharply and leaned forward on her hands, pushing deeper into your ribs. It made it a little harder to breathe, but when Tara Carpenter was the cause? Well, you would be happy to just suffocate under her touch.

“God you’re hot,” you said softly, not even sure if she would hear you or not. That was okay; it wasn’t the point.

Her eyes finally opened as she caught some semblance of control over her breathing again. The beautiful brown of her eyes was taken over by her dark pupils, and for a moment, she almost looked like she was smiling down at you. Maybe she was, you certainly wouldn’t bring it up to her. Not at that moment, anyway. But then she blinked a few times and shook her head before removing her weight from her hands, unburdening you from suffocation.

“I suppose you’re not entirely insufferable,” she said as she slowly pushed herself off of you, being a little extra careful as she buttoned her pants.

“You’re gonna leave me high and dry, aren’t you?” You asked when she tossed your shirt back in your face.

“You never clarified you wanted to get laid,” she said with a smirk before walking to the door and leaving the room.

You fell back onto the bed and sighed loudly. Your head was thumping with your pre-hangover migraine, your cheek was still sore, and you had a serious case of blue balls. But the mental image of Tara getting herself off on your hand… well, you supposed that would suffice.

For now.

[celabi]

just scara lives to have his hands on your waist and face in your neck. you feel so warm and comfortable, you smell good too.

ugh you’ll always have lots of little love bites scattered across your neck and jawline.

he just loves to have you close, he’s the type to have his arm over your shoulder pulling you closer and grabbing your tits at the same time.

but then you flip the script too sometimes. just covering his jawline, neck, and collarbones with the prettiest little marks.

i head cannon that he notices you staring at other people’s piercings and decides to get snake bites and then eventually his tongue. he might actually get addicted to the pain.

he’s also the type to tattoo your name on himself.

i picture him cleaning himself up just for you and people taking notice of how hot he is despite his foul behavior towards everybody except you.

might actually spark your jealousy. kinda a “they never looked at him before now. why is it now that im with him people are noticing how attractive he is.” bc to you he’s always been your pretty boy.

he soaks up lap naps, the naps where you’re just sitting there and let him rest his head in your lap to get some much needed sleep. bonus points if you play with his hair.

the first time you let him spend the night (just cuddling you’re not ready to go past kissing yet) he has to go to the bathroom two or three times to rub one out bc damn you’re sleeping in his hoodie and a pair of shorts (if you can even call them that) probably steals a pair of your panties.

mans is just so utterly in love with you.

OMG SCARA WITH SNAKE BITES ????? HHAKKKKSK I LOVE IT, tbh I every time I write him I kinda imagine him to have a tongue piercing (not bcus I have mine done and we can like lock them together no way 😳) SO SNAKE BITES ARE SO HOTTTT 😤😤 also his ears are fully pierced and he’s thinking of getting his nips done what 😳 only if you want him too, he’ll even make the bar your favourite color

Also him??? Just showing off all the bruises and love bites you’ve left scattered all over his neck, and he’s so proud of it too 🥺 like probably took a photo of one and wants to get it tattooed on his neck so it’s permanent 🥺🥺 YES HES SO TATTOOING YOUR NAME ON HIM, like he gets you to write it and he draws a heart around it omfg

And yes what reader getting kinda jealous cause yknow he used to be an ugly weirdo in everyone’s eyes and reader was the only one to think he was a lil cute, and know everyone wants piece of him 😡 not like he cares though cause all he wants it you but still

Yes he absolutely loves laying on your lap, his head on your thighs, occasionally giving them a squeeze every now and then. He thinks you’re so comfortable, and he would dead ass lay there all day if you let him 🙈

Thehehe just, him getting up in the middle of a movie and excusing himself to the bathroom because you unknowingly placed your hand a bit too close to his crotch and now he has to go and take care of the boner you gave him😭😭

[tojisbbg]

𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠

❝i'm trying to tell you something, something that i already said.❞  

♡ nagi seishiro ♡

a/n: if you couldn’t tell, i’m hyperfixating on blue lock rn. 

content: nagi seishiro x reader, roommates au, shorter than my other fics, fluffy, little bit of kissing, not edited. 

---

you shoved your hand in your purse, digging around urgently to fish out your keys. after finally getting a hold of the keys, you tried to unlock the door, only to have the keys slip from your grasp. you cursed at yourself, a scowl painted on your face as every single thing in your life was slowly pushing you over the edge. 

you just wanted to enter the comforts of your home as fast as possible, feeling like you could collapse on the ground in a matter of minutes. you didn’t know why you felt like this, an overwhelming amount of sadness and agony washing over you. the only thing you wanted to do was curl up into a ball and die on your bed. 

finally, you were able to unlock the door as you kicked off your shoes to the side before locking the door behind. you threw your purse on the floor before plopping on the sofa. it was seven in the evening and the house was quiet, nothing out of the ordinary. 

your roommate, nagi, always came home much later on the day due to his soccer practices. this left the majority of the quiet time in your house as yours. regardless, nagi wasn’t really a loud person, only sometimes when he’d play his games really loudly in the living room on his days off. the both of you rarely spoke to each other as nagi was a pretty reserved person and he didn’t like doing anything that’d require him to do more than breathing, playing games and playing soccer. 

you didn’t mind though, it was actually a relief that you didn’t get screwed up with a pain in the ass type of roommate. nagi wasn’t much of a hassle as he paid his share of the rent on time, did grocery shopping on the days that was his turn, and he was a pretty clean person. 

though you rarely saw him, he had a strange effect on you. at first you thought maybe it was because of his mysterious behavior or perhaps it was the little things that he did. some of which included walking around the house shirtless, working out in the living room with his home equipment, or how he’d look so focused on his games. 

it made you feel funny and you hated it. 

 you were in a relationship with your boyfriend of two years, happily in love until things took a twisted turn. the doubt and lack of trust that your lover had in you because of your opposite gender roommate led to a rise in ridiculous hypothetical conclusions. 

today was the last straw. 

even after explaining to your boyfriend, now ex, that your male roommate was barely home and even if he was that a single human couldn’t have known about his existence; the man was still not convinced. you were a very fluid and transparent person, telling nagi about your boyfriend since he’d come over frequently. the snowy haired male simply shrugged before minding his own business. 

yet your ex’s words were sharp to the tongue and painful to the heart, telling you how all men are the same and women are nothing but bimbos when it came to an attractive man. his words made your blood boil, making you angry that just because he’s insecure about himself he’s projecting his negativity on you. 

and so, you broke up with him. 

now here you are, moping on your couch as you cried an ugly sob. you could’ve sworn that you’ve cried two gallons of your salty tears by now. the noises leaving your mouth were loud and full of agony, as you could barely breathe. 

you were hurting inside and you couldn’t find relief. 

“y/n? you good?” you heard a groggy voice call out for you, making your ears alert as you quickly wiped away your teary face dry. you picked up your head to see nagi by his room’s doorway, shirtless and wearing a pair of sweats as he rubbed his sleep-filled eyes. 

“yeah, i’m fine.” you quickly turned around and blurted out a lie, now feeling embarrassed that he caught you crying like a little bitch when you thought he wasn’t home. you now stupidly realize that it was saturday today, meaning that it was nagi’s day off. you were waiting to hear the sound of his door closing, but instead you heard footsteps inching closer to you. 

suddenly, you felt his fingers grab your chin before lifting your head, forcing you to meet his eyes. you saw him looking down at you with sharp eyes, your eyes widening in shock as your heat began to rise to your cheeks and your heart thumped in your chest ferociously. 

“huh, you don’t look so fine to me. what’s wrong? why are you crying?” nagi asked, his hand now moving to caress your cheeks as you felt the pads of his fingers wipe away your tears. these little actions and gestures stimulated you to cry even harder as you shook your head. 

“i-” you tried to begin your sentence, only to miserably fail as you choked on your tears midway. nagi let out a heavy sigh before taking a seat next to you before pulling you close to his chest. you didn’t even try to fight back with yourself, accepting the comfort that he’s willing to provide you with.

the skin of his chest was so soft in comparison to how hard and well-sculpted his athletic body was. he smelled really good too, a very fresh and manly scent radiated off of him. 

“it’s okay, you don’t gotta tell me right now.” he murmured, rubbing your back as you tried to relax. 

“i broke up with my boyfriend.” you sniffled, making nagi’s hand movement stop. 

“you’re crying over some silly guy? come on, y/n, i know that you’re better than this.” nagi scoffed, making you look up at him with glassy eyes as he gave you a slightly disappointed look. 

“but i loved him.” you quietly whispered, tears still falling on his bare chest and you felt bad, but nagi didn’t seem to care too much. 

“did he love you?” he asked, his question making your brain stop working as you paused, needing some time to think about the answer. 

your boyfriend always treated you like you were some kind of certification for him that declared him as a man who could pull bitches. he never once thought about what you liked to eat, what you enjoyed doing, nor was he thoughtful on planning for dates. 

so, did he really love you? 

“he did.” you thinned your lips, wanting to save your last bits of dignity to not die from shame in front of your roommate. nagi let out a hum in response from your answer. 

“okay, then you were in the wrong. go get back together with him.” the snowy haired male shrugged, his face holding an expression of boredom. 

“how is it my fault?” your eyebrows furrowed in slight irritation from how his words rubbed you in the wrong way. 

“a girl doesn’t break up with a dude she’s been in a relationship with for two years unless he fucks up real bad. but, since you both are in love, you obviously misread the situation then. go kiss and make up.” nagi patted your back for encouragement. 

you scoffed in utter shock, opening your mouth to say something until someone knocked on your door. both you and nagi turned your focus on the door, before nagi offered to open the door as he slipped away from your previously crying form. 

“can i help you?” nagi asked after opening the door, an unfamiliar male that he’s never seen in his life before was at the doorsteps of his home. the guy laughed in disbelief before his face was replaced with an angry look. 

“that fucking slut didn’t even bother to show you who’s the guy she’s been with for two years? what else has she been doing behind my back, huh? actually, how many other guys has she been fucking around with?” the guy spewed out crazy shit in the middle of the hallway, making nagi annoyed. you peaked from the sofa and realized it was your ex, making you jump out of your place as you rushed to the door. 

suddenly, nagi grabbed him by the collar, easily towering over your ex who was inches shorter than the 6′3 striker. 

“you wanna say that shit again, assface? your mama never taught you how to respect women, hm? i hate fighting, but i don’t like the way you’re talking about y/n. so, we could take this outside, if you want.” nagi said in a low voice, his tone was daring and his eyes darkened with anger as you watched in horror. 

“let me go, you fucking freak! this is between me and my girlfriend.” your ex tried to peel himself away from nagi’s tight hold but failed. the tall male snorted at the lousy attempt of breaking away from his hold, roughly grabbing the dude’s jaw as your ex winced in pain. 

“yeah? well, i’m the guy who she dumped your ass for. so, it’s actually between the three of us. but, the conversation is gonna end here ‘cause if you’re not out of my sight in the next five seconds, i’m gonna break your legs.” nagi threatened before harshly letting the guy go, making him stumble back before losing his balance, collapsing on the floor. 

“y/n! i know you’re behind him, you fucking user. give me back all the money that i dumped on your cheating ass!” your ex angrily bellowed, some of the neighbors now opening their doors to watch what the commotion was. 

“for god’s sake, please, go home and i’ll sort things out with you later. you’re causing a scene!” you whisper-yelled at him, eyes begging him to shut up but he was persistent. 

“why the hell would i do that? everyone in this world deserves to know your true colors, you gold digging bitch.” he spat out, making your eyes well with tears as you looked down, not being able to pick your head up while the people stared down at you and gossiped. 

“here, take this and leave.” nagi said in a monotone, reaching inside his pocket to pull out his wallet before throwing hundred dollar bills on the ground where your ex was sitting. the man looked shocked, but still shamelessly picked up all the bills before shoving it in his jacket pocket. 

nagi took a hold of your hand as he pulled you back inside the house, closing the door before locking it. 

“fucking prick.” you heard him murmur to himself before walking towards the sofa, taking a seat. 

“come here.” he demanded from you, patting the spot next to him. his sudden request flustered you as you and nagi never really sat down and do things together. nonetheless, you accepted his little invite and sat down. 

“so, i’m assuming i’m the culprit of this whole situation?” nagi cocked an eyebrow, watching you fiddle with your fingers nervously. you looked up at him with softened eyes before shaking your head. 

“i would never never blame you, sei. anyways, i saw this breakup coming sooner or later. he was too controlling and possessive over me. i guess you were fuel that ignited it.” you joked a little at the end, making him chuckle. 

“good, pretty little things like you deserve better than assholes like him.” nagi said, looking at you with a strange glint in his eyes. you gulped harshly, feeling a little shy. 

he thought you were pretty?

for some odd reason, your heart felt fuzzy and your pulse began to race. you dared not to look at him, afraid that he could read right through you. 

“well, that hope is all gone now.” you let out a heavy sigh, reaching over to the glass table where your lipgloss was. you applied it on your lips since they felt a little chapped from your little crying sessions. 

“why?” nagi asked, confused. 

“he’s most likely gonna go around to every single human on earth and tell them that i’m a cheater and gold digger. nobody wants to date someone like that.” you bitterly laughed, placing the gloss back on the table before looking at him with sad eyes. 

“but that’s not true, you’re none of those things.” he frowned, a cute little pout on his lips. your heart swelled, he looked adorable and it made you wish that you could kiss that little pout of his. 

“yeah, but only you and i know that.” you shrugged, accepting your defeat and miserable fate. 

“then be my girlfriend.” nagi suddenly blurted out, making you choke on your own spit. you looked at him with eyes the size of two full moons, waiting for him to break out into a laugh to tell you that he was just messing around with you. 

but no such thing happened. 

his eyes were trained on yours, waiting for an answer. 

“sei, we ca-”

“why can’t we? i’ve liked you for a really long time and i know that you like me back too, y/n. i see how you look at me and my eyes never lie. so, stop fighting against it and let me take care of you like how you deserve to be.” nagi’s voice was gentle, a hand coming up to your face to sway the loose hairs covering your face to expose more of you to his eyes. 

“okay, then let’s go on a date tomorrow.” you smiled at him and nagi gave you a boyish grin. he placed a hand behind your head before leaning closer to you. 

“sei! my glo-” your words were cut off by the feeling of his lips on yours. you closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck. nagi liked your response to his bold move, trailing his hands down to your waist before he pulled you on his lap. 

you relaxed your muscles, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace as you continued to follow the movement of his lips. nagi liked the feeling of your sticky gloss coating his lips, occasionally getting a taste of the sweet cherry lip product on his tongue. 

you felt his hands go under your shirt as his calloused fingers danced on your spine, sending goosebumps all over your body. your lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, so you were forced to pull away. you looked down at nagi, who’s face was flushed and lips shiny with a coating of your cherry flavored gloss as you both panted. 

“why’d you pull away?” he whined, making you giggle before you pinched his cheeks. 

“i had to breathe, sei.” you gave him peck to console him. nagi hummed in content, enjoying how your soft and plump lips felt against his. 

“what should we do now?” you asked him, carding your fingers through his smooth snowy locks. 

“sleep.” nagi shortly answered, eyes half-lidded before he pulled you down with him on the sofa. he placed his head on the cushion while you moved your head on his chest, wrapping your leg around his waist. nagi’s arms protectively wrapped around your waist to make sure that you don’t fall off the sofa while sleeping. 

you could hear the gentle hammering of his heartbeat and it made yours follow the same rhythm. you smiled before placing a quick peck on his chest. 

“sleep well, sei.” you mumbled against his soft flesh, closing your eyes. 

“you too, baby.” nagi responded, midway in the process of yawning. 

then a comforting silence fell upon you both as the room was now filled with soft snores.