#will isn’t in this bit or this chapter but he’s kinda like god

[groovinrightalong]

Wheeler siblings for the soul

[hiiikiko]

𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖜𝖊𝖇

[1: spider-man’s more awkward than i thought..”]

spiderman!ellie x reader | tlou m.list

synopsis: ellie is in your biology class, she’s the quiet teachers assistant, who also happens to double as your agency’s part time photographer, but you notice that lately she’s been acting strange..

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You never really noticed her before, to you, she was just the nerdy TA and your agency’s assistant photographer but right now, you needed her to be your saviour. You were failing your biology class, a side effect of how many modelling gigs you’ve picked up to pay your tuition but what good was paying your tuition if you couldn’t even pass your classes? That’s how you ended up practically begging Ellie to tutor you.

“God, please, Williams,” you sighed, taking her hand in yours, “I’ll do anything! I’ll even pay you or I could speak to the agency—.”

“I-it’s fine, Y/l/n, I can do it,” she pried her hand out of yours and nodded, “Just put in a good word with your boss, yeah?”

You practically jump when she says that, “Oh thank you, thank you so much! Um, do you have my number?”

Ellie bashfully nods, “Uh, yeah, I have all the model’s numbers..”

You nod, “Okay, cool! Let’s meet at my place tonight, yeah? Maybe around 6? I’ll send you the location and the door code.”

Ellie straightens up, “Uhh.. can’t do six.. can we do it earlier? Maybe 4..?”

She looks a little nervous about asking, her eyebrows are furrowed and she’s staring into your eyes, anxiously waiting for your response, “Oh.. yeah that’s cool!”

With that, you go your separate ways.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

At your apartment, you prep it for your visitor, shoving your clothes into your laundry hamper, putting out some snacks, straightening up your ‘living room,’ it wasn’t really a living room, given that you lived in a small studio apartment, it was really just a corner of your apartment with a couch, rug, and coffee table. Come on, it was New York and you’re a college student! This is as good as it’ll get for now.

Just as you’re folding a blanket, you hear a thud against the glass door leading out to your balcony. Just as you’re about to take a step towards it to inspect it.. ding dong! You jump a bit, forgetting all about the peculiar sound and making your way towards your front door. Peaking through the peephole, you see Ellie, she’s awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck, camera bag resting on her shoulder and her bangs messily in her face.

“Hey,” you smile and open the door to let her in, “Uh, make yourself at home.”

“T-thanks,” she nods, taking off her shoes and putting her bag down, “Nice place you got.. very, uh, homey. Oh, you a fan of Spider-man?” She nods at the Spider-Man poster on your wall and the Spider-Man t-shirt you’re wearing.

You giggle at her attempt at making small talk, “Thanks, can I get you anything? Water.. soda.. tea..? And, yeah, I know it’s kinda ‘fan girly’ of me but he’s just so fuckin’ cool, y’know? ”

“I’ll take a water,” she sits down on your couch, she looks really tired, not sleepy tired but she looks like she just fought Captain America.

“Shall we get started,” you place the glass in front of her and sit on the floor, the fluffy rug underneath aiding as a cushion, she nods and the two of you get to work.

The first few tutoring sessions went just like that, they were stiff and awkward but eventually, you realized that Ellis isn’t just a nerd that occasionally takes your pictures, she’s also really funny and is actually a really good teacher, she’s patient but doesn’t treat you like you’re dumb. She talks you through the formulas and makes sure you understand each chapter by quizzing you. She’s actually not awkward about this after all, she seems confident when she’s talking about cells. Watching her is nice, her eyes light up when she gets to a chapter that she is obviously interested in and a small smile falters on her lips. You never really realized it before but not only is she really smart, she’s also REALLY hot. Like, the way her veiny arms l flex when she reaches over for her glass of water, the veins flexing under her tattoo, the way she gazes at you through her eyelashes, and her smirk when she gently teases you for getting a problem wrong.

On one particular tutoring session, the rain pattered heavy against the thin glass on your balcony doors, creating a serene, almost cozy atmosphere. You and Ellie were sitting close together on the floor, a thick textbook resting on the coffee table in front of you, you could feel her breath against your neck and her voice was deep and raspy, almost like she’d been out in the rain earlier, and—

“Hey, you with me?” Ellie waves a hand in front of your face, “Hm, maybe we should stop here for now, yeah? It’s getting la— shit, it’s 7?!”

Your expression fell at the thought of her leaving, so you thought ‘fuck it’ as you decided to try and get her to ‘sleep over.’

Ellie scrambled to get on her feet, grabbing her bag and putting her battered converse on, “Oh, you’re leaving? But it’s pouring out there, wanna spend the night?” You graze her arm with your hand, you know it’s wrong to wanna sleep with your TA and your coworker but.. it had been so long since you got any.. and shit, how could you stop yourself now? You could feel her lean muscles underneath her baggy jacket.. you had no idea she even worked out.

Ellie’s eyes flicker to your hand, almost like she was considering it, “S-sorry.. I really gotta go, see ya Friday, yeah?”

And before you could say anything else to try and convince her to stay, she was out the door and you could hear her footsteps echoing down the stairwell.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“The nerve that girl has!” You throw your hands up, “She didn’t even consider it.. I mean, look at me! An up and coming model offers you the night of her life, you say yes!”

Your friends nod in agreement, “I just don—.” Just as you’re about to make another comment, you see Ellie come into the lecture hall, a band-aid on her eyebrow, ouch. What in the world could have happened between 7 p.m. and this morning?

Your friends turn to see what’s got your tongue, then one of them speaks up, “Haven’t you heard? She is always getting weird scratches.. a guy in my last class said that she tends to get in a lot of fights, crazy, right?”

Ellie gets into fights? You scoff at the idea, no way, she’s the most gentle person you know, you can barely feel her touch when she adjusts your hair during shoots, besides she’s way too awkward, you can imagine her trying to talk herself out of a beating, no way. Right?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

During that night’s tutoring session, you ask her about the bandaid, “Oh,” her hand darts to her forehead, “This? I, uh, got it when I fell off my skateboard..”

Convincing enough, right? But the tone in which she said it betrayed her statement, damn, she was a shitty liar.

“Hm,” you hum, still not completely convinced.

Ellie’s eyes rest on yours for a moment before going back to this week’s chapter. Usually, you could focus pretty well but right now all you wanted was to ask her more about the cut, right as you’re about to bug her again, she interrupts you with a question of her own. “Hey, uh, are you booked for that shoot on Sunday?”

You can tell she’s trying her best to act as nonchalant as possible but the way she’s nervously tapping her pencil against the textbook, the way her teeth gently bite her soft pink lips, and the way her eyes look like a deer caught in headlights betray her rather calm tone.

“Yeah, didn’t Regina tell you? She booked me a few weeks ago, something about how they want a ‘fresh young face’ or whatever,” you on the other hand, have mastered the art of being nonchalant, your voice calm and your eyes never leaving the paper of your textbook.

“R-really?” Ellie looks like a puppy who’s owner just shook a bag of treats before forgetting she’s supposed to be feign the whole ‘mysterious loner’ shtick, “I mean, uh, cool, cool. I’m gonna be there too, so, uh.. yeah.”

“Mhm,” the rest of the night carries on like nothing happened, Ellie continues teaching and you continue ‘listening,’ which was a little hard because your eyes kept drifting to her eyebrows again.

There’s something about her that you just don’t get.. if those rumours are true, which you highly doubt because look at her, she’s smiling while talking about RNA… be so for real right now, there’s no way BUT if it is true, why is she so gentle? Sure, she’s clumsy but her personality, she’s not hostile, hell, she blushes whenever you graze her hand. You know how the rumour mill works and it doesn’t just churn out baseless rumours, most have some kind of truth to them, so, how did someone make one about Ellie being so violent, you wonder.

“Uh, Y/n?” Ellie’s eyes move towards the balcony doors, “Can you, uh, please stop staring? You’re making me nervous..”

Your face erupts in a blush, the sweet red colour creeping up your neck, coating your ears, and finally, sweeping over your face, “S-sorry, just spaced out.. haven’t been getting much sleep, you know?”

Ellie nods, “Yeah.. I get it.. neighbours arguing a lot ‘nd stuff, right?”

You nod before realizing, “I never told you that.”

Ellie lets out a forced chuckle, “Uh, you did! Well, you didn’t tell me directly, just heard you say it… God, please believe me, I’m not stalking you, I just heard you say in passing, I swe—. Um. I should go, it’s getting late..”

“Huh, it’s only 6..?” You stand up with her, hoping she doesn’t leave so soon.

“Sorry, but I really should—?”

You grab onto her bulky jacket, tugging on the sleeve a bit, causing it to slip down her shoulder a bit and reveal her shirt underneath, huh, it looked like…

“Hey,” she blurts out and straightens out her jacket, “Wh—?”

“Oh my god, is that a spider-man tshirt?” You jump up, a smile creeping onto your face.

Ellie is washed with relief, “Uh, yeah! Gotta love the, uh, the guy, right?”

Nodding you say, “Totally! You should’ve said something sooner, I’m like his biggest fan, I even have an, allegedly, signed poster of him!”

Ellie’s ears burn bright, “R-really? Can I see it?”

You scramble to your room and pull out a small signed flyer, “See?”

Ellie gently holds it then she snorts and mutters, “Yeah, that’s not real.”

Your expression falters, “Wh-what? As if you’d know,” you pull it from her grip, your pride hurt and internally kicking yourself for spending so much on what could be a damn knock off.

“Oh, I think I’d know a thing or two about ‘Spider-Man’,” she chuckles.

“What does that mean,” you shoot her a glare.

“Oh, nothing.. I just, uh, met him” Ellie is scrambling for any way to cover up her loud mouth.

“No way, really?!” You jump up.

“Y-yeah, a few times actually.. back in my first year of college, he let me take some pictures of him a few times for the paper.”

You squeal and begin to bombard her with questions, “What was he like? Is he tall? How does he sound? Wh—?”

Ellie is patient with you and answers all of your questions, stretching she takes a look at the clock and jumps up, “Fuck, I really should get going, it’s rainy and the parade is tomorrow and that means more cr —.”

“More, what?”

“Uh, more cramped subways!” (Ellie is internally patting herself on the back for coming up with a word that begins with ‘cr’ instead of saying criminals.)

“Oh, alright.. see ya.”

Ellie is out the door quicker than you could say ‘your friendly neighborhood spider-man.’

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It’s the day of the parade and everyone’s spirits are high. Today, everyone is celebrating the election of the new city mayor. There will be a parade, drone show, and a market. Even you’re excited. You and your friends are making your way through the crowded streets when you bump into Abby, your ex. She must be here for her family, Abby’s family was widely renowned. Her dad isn’t just a highly esteemed surgeon, he’s also CEO of Oscorp and has very close ties to the city officials. You don’t really want any drama, so you pass by without giving as much as a nod.

“Hey, Y/n,” you hear through the crowds, a groan leaving your lips before looking up and meeting green eyes instead of blue ones.

“Ellie! What’re you doing here? I thought you would hate this kinda stuff.’

She holds up her camera, “Just takin’ photos, the Daily Bugle needs some front page stuff and they assigned it to me.”

“Oh, very cool,” you smile, “S—,” Just as you’re about to ask her if she wants to check out the stands with you, you feel a hand grip your shoulder, it’s Abby, fuck.

“Hey, Y/n, long time, huh? Wanna come see my dad, he’s been asking about you, oh, so has Manny.” Before you could reject her, Ellie is already walking away and Abby is steering you to the city hall building.

Abby drones on and on about her latest lacrosse victories and about her latest conquests, you just nod and try to space out. Normally, you wouldn’t go with her but you so desperately wanted to meet with her father. Being in premed meant you need as many connections as possible, so you were hoping Mr. Anderson could give you some pointers.

As the two of you round a corner you feel a rumble then hear a boom.

“What the fuck was that,” Abby stops and runs up the stairs, your feet are frozen in place but you quickly pull them from their cemented state and chase after her, “Abby, stop! It’s too dang—!”

Then came the second boom and suddenly, you felt the ground beneath you crumbling, fuck, this is it, isn’t it? Just as you’re about to accept your fate, you feel hands grip your waist and you’re flying..?

Through the dust, you can make out a red and blue silhouette. “I-it’s you!’

The masked figure looks at you, “Yeah.. i-it’s me.”

Uh, Spider-Man is a lot more awkward than you thought..

[chilschuck]

— ONLY IF YOU’D LIKE ME TO:

(I COULD FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU.) ♡ chilchuck x gn!reader.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ sfw, ment. of n//edles (the sewing kind, lol).

꒰ wc: ꒱ 809 words. just a drabble!

꒰ note: ꒱ guys i can’t stop thinking about this repressed-emotions-having-ass man. i wanted to write something with the song “clusterhug” by iDKHOW as inspo. i don’t know if i like this or not, so maybe i’ll delete it later. i took inspiration from the mimic chapter in the manga. sorry if it’s a bit ooc, i just kinda let my heart go with this one. i hope you enjoy!

Little things lead up to big ones. In other words, small acts of kindness become forces to be reckoned with. There’s only so much someone can do to brace themselves for the impact of falling in love, which Chilchuck had learned the hard way. His efforts to keep work and private life separate were not enough. Despite his measures at bracing himself, the problem seemed to somehow build itself into something he just couldn’t fight; something he knows he’s not skilled at.

Your touch, so gentle when handling his wounds compared to others, was the first hit to his willpower. Chilchuck was used to leading and making sure others were safe in their steps, but even then he felt he couldn’t hold a candle to you. If there’s one thing you did for the party that he considered your skill, it was being a source of light. A source of delicate touches in which he had forgotten he craved.

Chilchuck believes he could blame this all on that single encounter with that mimic. You had beat Marcille to him, immediately dropping to your knees and making sure he was safe. The cut on his cheek was handled easily with delicate touches and small tuts under your breath. “I’m sorry,” he heard you murmur. “Someone should’ve gone with you.” The cloth in your hand did not bring as much relief to his wounds as your presence seemed to.

Later, he had tried to distract himself by mending his clothes, stitching the rifts in the fabric with precise hands. It was best to stay focused and squander any emotions he considered useless. The greater the attempt, though, the harder it came back to bite him in the ass. This was only one of many things he had to learn the hard way.

“Your stitches are really neat,” You had commented in that gentle voice of yours, the same pitch you always spoke in. It wasn’t syrupy sweet, but delicate in ways he couldn’t understand. It wrapped around his brain and inched into his chest. “It’s entrancing to watch you work.”

I could say the same about you, he could say. He pictured your bashful smile. Chilchuck reminded himself to breathe. You’re entrancing in ways I can’t explain.

There was something about your gaze that made him feel like the room rose in temperature. Rolling his shoulders, he flicked his eyes up to yours.

“Just something I had to learn.”

Just like the fact that you were winding your way around his heart. Could he even begin to comprehend what you were doing to him, what you were making him feel? The depth at which you were breaking his walls down scared him. Even the thought that maybe, just maybe, you reserved those sweet looks just for him sent him over the edge.

“You should teach me one day.” You whispered.

Only if you’d like me too. He could mumble back instantly. You waited patiently, smiling at him. He swallowed.

“Yeah, sure. Here.”

His fingers brushed against yours, the green fabric resting in your hands. Chilchuck held the needle, watching the thread cascade before setting it into your palm.

“I can teach you.”

Gods, don’t look at him like that. Don’t ever beam like that, not when he’s so close and looking over your shoulder as you thread the needle.

“There, now pull it through. Make sure the stitch isn’t loose.” You did as he asked, waiting for his next instruction. When you lit up at the progress, the rip shrinking in the scarf, he couldn’t help but smile.

Maybe while you’re at it, you could stitch up the rifts in his heart he let grow. He knew if anyone could, it’d be you. But before he knew it, you had repaired the hole, holding it up proudly.

“Thank you, Chilchuck! Now I can help next time, too.” You folded it, placing it into his hands. He felt his ears burn. There was something about how thankful you were to everyone, him included. Another shot to his willpower. It’s not like he really even did anything… It’s something anyone could learn.

Even then, as your attention was called upon by Marcille, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Gaze locked on the fabric in his hands, he let himself get lost in thought while you watched Senshi and Laios prepare the next meal. If you kept shining so bright like that, he’d have no choice but to fall in love with you. There’s only so much kindness he could handle from you. You were giving him no choice but to swallow his pride and reconsider everything he knew about living a double life like this. Could he really make you happy?

Only if you’d like him to, he let his heart say. Whether or not he would listen is for time to tell. He could fall in love with you.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Hi! I feel bad for having messaged twice in kinda quick succession, but I have a Bleach AU idea and don’t really have anyone to tell about it, but i hope you’d like to hear about it!

So I’ve only recently been trying to finish reading Bleach (I’ve read earlier chapters multiple times, but never managed to read past the Xcution arc). I’ve still got about 100 odd chapters to go, but I’m in the thousand year war arc finally, (and I’ve read the last few chapters, so I know how it ends, just not all of the details in between).

Anyway, I’ve recently read the bit where Kyoraku (is that his name? Shunsui, the head captain guy) actually goes to the land of the living and visits Ichigo’s friends to warn them that depending on how powerful he is once he’s sorted his issues with his Zanpakuto, he might not be able to come back home and it’s just GOT ME THINKING, because so far it’s not been mentioned again, and it isn’t in the last few chapters either, I don’t think. BUT!! What if it is that Ichigo is so powerful now that going back to the human world on a permanent basis would completely mess with the human world, so he’s forced to stay in the soul society.

So much potential for angst, with him missing his sisters and friends (and Kisuke), BUT also so much potential for absolute highjinks in the SS.

I think this could potentially be a little similar to your Turn Back the Clock AU, but I’m just imagining all of the remaining captains/lieutenants all absolutely beside themselves trying to convince Ichigo to join their teams, Shunsui is already eyeing him up for a captain position in the near future, Kenpachi (who’s still a little lost without his little sidekick (whose name I’ve forgotten, god I feel so bad because I love her)) just itching to get Ichigo to join his squad so that he can have daily fights without the trouble of having to go looking for the guy. Shinji (who without a shadow of a doubt has a soft spot for Ichigo, no matter how much he might enjoy irritating him) who wants to have him in his squad as some kind of “visords-stick-together” kinda deal (and because he knows it’d piss all the others off). Rukia laying claim because HELLO, she’s the one that stabbed him and gave him the powers in the first place, she calls dibs! Hell, I think even Byakuya would want him in his squad, because as much as he might deny it if asked, he’s actually rather fond of the guy, so long as he learns to call him Captain rather than his first name.

And as things are want to do in the SS, where the more power the shinigami, the more insane they seem to be, things get a little out of hand. During one heated discussion, where they’re all giving their updates on how well each of them think they’re doing in convincing Ichigo to join them, someone (I’m thinking a shit-stirrer like Yumichika maybe) gives the idea that hey, this competition seems almost as if you’re trying to court the guy! And so it turns into this weird ass Shinigami-courting situation, with a “whoever manages to (woo) CONVINCE Ichigo to join their squad is OBVIOUSLY the one that Ichigo likes best, so that means that he’s OBVIOUSLY also open to (after)life long commitment in the form of marriage to whichever captain wins” kinda thing going on.

Cue Ichigo not getting a single moments peace, when all he really wants is to be left alone to just PROCESS the fact that he 1) has had to leave everyone and everything he’s ever known in the human world to live with these absolutely crazy people, and 2) just fought in a very big battle and helped kill a thousands-year old crazy Quincy guy.

He’s more than happy spending his time helping clean up and rebuild the SS for now, and he’s happy to worry about what comes next once the SS is back on its feet. (And he’s more than a little oblivious to the weird fighting/flirting/coercing that seems to happen whenever he comes across any familiar face whenever he’s out and about).

It all comes to a head when his friends from home come for a visit to the soul society with those handy dandy tokens that Shunsui gave them, and instantly see what’s happening and have to sit Ichigo down and explain to him that he may or may not (but definitely does) have twenty or so extremely powerful shinigami captains and lieutenants all after his ass(ets), which, know that Ichigo thinks about it, definitely explains a few things that’ve been happening to him lately.

And shortly after his friends go back home, all three realms feel a shift in reiatsu and hear a distant screech from Kisuke, who’s suddenly realised that hey, maybe the human world sucks actually and he should relocate back to the soul society for no reason in particular! None at all! Definitely not jealousy because that would be ridiculous.

If I had the time or energy (and a better track record of finishing fics that I start 😬) I’d love to write this, but I fear it’ll be stuck in my notes forever, lol, so thought I’d share!

No I love this so much!! Especially if it's endgame UraIchi and like all this courting, all this drama, all the shenanigans from all these different high-powered shinigami all trying to get Ichigo's attention and Kisuke just rocks up and gets him within a solid 10 minutes and 5 of those were spent with Ichigo purposefully ignoring him while Kisuke apologized for some dumb petty shit he did before Ichigo ended up in SS

[a-kaash-me-outside]

a bit dirty - ch6

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch6 [masterlist]

// a really great idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ~ 7392 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, squirting, sex in a bed!!, a lot of feelings and love!!!!, intimacy in more than just the bedroom fr, names names names pet names a million pet names, oral f!receiving, afab she/her pronouns

tori talks: oh good god guys we're finally here. thanks to everyone who is going to read this last chapter even though it literally took me over 6 months to write it. i hope you enjoy it and i'm glad it's over and that it happened. ily all. hope u enjoy. ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

you’re not sure you’d admit it to anyone, but walking into osamu’s apartment for the first time feels like coming home after a long day at work. you can see yourself here, more than you can in your own apartment or your childhood home. you feel just a little bit more like yourself, shoulders relaxing in a way that you didn’t think they needed to, breath a tiny fraction steadier. you’re not sure you’ve felt this comfortable in a really long time. 

you don’t have to ask him where to put your shoes or where to hang your jacket, and he doesn’t take them from you either. he doesn’t put them away for you or tell you to hang them on the hangers in the empty closet down the hall. 

when he unlocks his door and pushes inside, you mimic his motions, placing your shoes gingerly on the rack to the right of the closet between his white sneakers and black work shoes, hanging your jacket on the empty hooks above the spot where you've just retired your shoes. 

stepping deeper into his apartment, he offers a small, “so, welcome,” he says, gesturing to the living room, one hand softly wrapped around yours as he tugs you along. stepping past the barrier of the front door, further into osamu’s space, you don’t feel like a guest here. you just feel like you belong.

“oh my god, it’s so clean in here,” you say, a few paces ahead of him now, but he refuses to break contact, to let go of your fingertips so he walks quickly along with you. 

“well, yea, i’m not really ever home,” he explains, shrugging, as you walk around his living room eyes stopping at the neatly organized coffee table with cork coasters and a yellow hard-covered book titled this book will make you kinder, at the photos on his wall of him and his brother and him and his restaurant and him and suna, at the plants in the window sill and the dustless, dirtless ledge beneath them. 

you shake your head, “no, that’s not true. you come home after work and you’re here before you leave for work, and i’m sure you’re super busy leaving in the morning and super tired when you come home at night, so it’s really impressive that it’s really clean.”

he lets out a half-laugh, a breathy light scoff in the place of a real response. you turn around, looking at him directly with a mischievous look on your face, “unless you cleaned your apartment just for me tonight?”

osamu’s quiet, a very telling silence, a wordless admittance. “oh my god!” you say, hands on your hip, and the slight hold that he has on your fingertips isn’t broken yet, his hand now pressed against your side, fingers curling around your hip as he pulls you a little closer.  

“okay!” he admits, “so i am pretty tidy anyways, but there may have been a few dishes in the sink and the bed might not have been made and the couch cushions didn’t look that good before but-”

you shake your head, clicking your tongue, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you tease, “how presumptuous of you that i would come back here after our date?” 

“i didn’t think we’d just fuck in the bathroom again, baby, what was i supposed to do, you literally said-” he says, trying to explain himself, unstoppable smile on his face as he pulls you even closer to him.

“do you think i’m that kinda girl? to just fuck you on the first date?” you ask, palm flat against his chest now, the other hand snaking up to lazily drape around his neck.

he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around you tight around your arms and shoulders, holding you in place as he laughs so deep that it sends tingles and shivers down your spine and skin. “you’re very funny, y’know that?” he asks, squishing you against his chest as he presses kiss after kiss into the top of your head. 

“you made the bed? fixed the couch cushions? samu, i mean, really, what did you think was going to happen tonight?” you giggle, emphasizing every other word dramatically as you squirm in his tight grasp.

“i mean,” he says, leaning back to look at the warmth on your face, the fluster that lies with it, “you are here, aren’t you? i couldn’t have been that wrong if the cleaning paid off.”

you giggle harder now, leaning up and pressing a kiss into wherever you can reach in his strong hold. “i sure am,” you agree. he loosens his grip, hand falling down your arm to thread his fingers with yours again. he pecks a small kiss against your lips and then your cheek. 

“you sure are,” he says, warmly. 

you really could’ve stayed in the middle of his living room forever surrounded by couches and books on shelves and an impressive entertainment system. you didn’t need any of it either, didn’t need a place to sit or things to keep you busy, you’d be really happy just staring at osamu for the rest of time, at hearing him laugh, at feeling his pulse in your palm.  

“can i getcha a drink?” he asks, pulling you out of this mellow, love-struck state in the name of hospitality. 

“only if i can come with you,” you say, looking over his shoulder into the kitchen. your motivation is 70% wanting to stay with osamu and 30% wanting to see what his kitchen looks like: what kind of mugs he has, where he keeps his silverware, if his knives and pans are on display or tucked away in cabinets.

“clingy,” he teases, smile huge because there wasn’t any way that he was leaving you alone for even a second. 

“fine! i'll stay in here,” you pout. 

he doesn’t respond, only laughs and pulls you by the hand, “come on, pretty.”

you don’t protest anymore, following along happily into the kitchen, forcing yourself to sit on the barstool in front of the bar rather than snoop in his cupboards and drawers. he’s hesitant to let his touch fall from yours, to let go of the contact he has on your hand and your hip, but he does, presses a small kiss into the side of your head, and walks deeper into his kitchen.

from here you can see the kettle on the counter and the knives on a metallic strip above the black countertop. the pans are nowhere to be seen. they must be hidden away somewhere safe. you don’t say anything and neither does he as he pulls wine glasses and mugs and cups out of the cupboard and places them on the countertop in front of you. 

and you still don’t feel like a guest. 

it feels like osamu getting you a drink is because he loves you, like you could get up and get your own if you wanted to, like you already knew where the tea bags were and the spoons and the shelf that the sugar resided, like next time you would return the favor, let him sit down for a minute while you made the two of you tea or poured another glass of wine. 

“what’s it gonna be?” he asks, gesturing to your choices on the bar in front of you.

“y’know you could’ve just asked me that before pulling out all the cups?” you tease, eyes moving from cup to mug to wine glass. 

he shrugs, “not as visual.”

“what are you in the mood for?” you ask, reaching to pick up the mug, black ceramic with a gray stripe along the base. you turn it over in your hand, running your fingers along the matte texture. yeah, this feels like a mug osamu would own. 

“anything, really,” he says, smiling before the rest of the flirt even comes out of his mouth, “as long as i’m drinking it with you on my couch, i will be very happy.”

you roll your eyes. it’s really unfair how predictable, yet how adorable, he is when it comes to things like that. “alright, how about wine now, tea later?” you ask.

he rests both of his hands on the edge of the counter for a moment, nodding as he does, removing the cups from the counter and pushing the mugs towards the tea kettle. “sounds like a plan, angel,” he says, disappearing behind the pantry door and coming back with a bottle of wine. 

he doesn’t recork the wine or put the bottle back, leaves it exactly where he sets it on the counter in a rush to just drink wine on his couch with you. he carries your glass for you as he guides you back to the couch. 

sitting on the plush, perfectly set cushions, tucking yourself into the corner against the arm rest, osamu pressed up against you, pulling your legs over the tops of his, his hand resting comfortably on your calf, you’re not sure you’ll ever really be ready to go back to your own cold, lonely apartment. when you close your eyes, you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now. 

your first glass of wine isn’t even finished before he interrupts your current conversation of favorite movies and media with a stupidly cute, nervous question, “so, can i ask you now?” 

you want to be stunned or at least fake it, but you can only lean closer into him, setting your wine glass down on the coaster on the coffee table to wrap both of your arms around his bicep. “ask me what?” you tease.

he shakes his head, “y’know that night i thought you were so out of my league.”

you lean backwards, mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “no fucking way.”

“swear,” he laughs, leaning forward to set his glass down next to yours, “and i was out of my depth, had no idea what i was doing, just couldn’t stop staring at you-”

“oh, i know,” you say, recalling his smitten, lingering stare so perfectly that your face feels warm, “every time i would look over in your direction you would be looking at me like this.” you mimic your recollection as best as you can.

he puts his face in his hands. “that’s so embarrassing,” he says, and it’s muffled by his palms. you wrap your hands around his wrists, pulling them away from his face and kissing the backs of them.

“no, no, it was cute,” you say, but he still groans. you continue, “samu, i was into it, obviously.”

he explains further, “sumu was like shoving me over there so blatantly that i almost didn’t go over there.” he shakes his head at the memory, at the alternate universe where his stupid brother alone failed to start the best chain of events of his life. “and then omi leaned over to me and was like, ‘i'll distract your dumbass brother, go have a good night, you deserve it.’” 

“remind me to thank him then,” you say, softly, shifting against the couch to lean against his shoulder instead of the armrest. 

“will do,” he says, smile in his voice as he snakes his arm around your waist, hand resting on the side of your thigh. “i’ve thanked him plenty for both of us, but it might mean more coming from a new mouth.”

“you just say the most romantic things like it’s nothing,” you say.

“i don’t try,” he admits, “just hard not to be romantic when i’m with you.” he reaches across you with his other arm, pulls you further into his lap until both of your knees are on either side of his thighs and you’re facing him. “sorry,” he mumbles, “wanted to look at ya.”

“you’ve gotta be doing this on purpose,” you whisper. 

his fingers scrape against the tops of your tights before rooting on your hips. he shakes his head. “it’s all you, really,” he whispers back. “these thoughts just come into my mind and i say them. love you so much, you make it easy.”

you’re very grateful for this position because it’s effortless to lean down and crash your lips into his, to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him deeper into the kiss, to feel his chest lift to kiss you harder. he tastes like expensive wine and a little bit like you still and you might cry, he’s just really perfect. 

he places his hand on your shoulder, holds you in place as he leans back into the couch. the pout is already forming on your lip, so he runs his thumb across it gently. “will you be mine?” he asks, adding before you’ve even answered, “let me love you with labels.”

“oh my god, samu, you’re going to kill me, y’know that?” you say, hands cupping both of his cheeks before kissing him sweetly. “how do you expect me to keep up with this?”

“just say yes,” he says, quickly, “that’s enough for me.”

“of course,” you say, forehead resting gently against his, kiss placed on his nose and then the high of his cheekbone. you repeat it again just in case he missed it the first time, “of course.”

“i’m sorry that i didn’t make this happen sooner,” he says, soft sigh accompanying his remorseful tone.

“stop that,” you hush him.

“i mean it,” he says, sitting up into you a bit more, “if i would’ve figured my shit out sooner, we could’ve been doing this for months.”

“yeah, but you don’t know if everything would’ve turned out the same way,” you say, bringing your hands up into his hair, “if that would’ve been too soon or if we needed to go through all we went through to be as strong as we are now, there’s no way to know, really.”

he smiles at you, not opening his mouth to say anything, just soaking in the moment, humming at your astute thought. you continue, “i guess i just mean that, yea, getting more time with you would’ve been great, but we can’t do anything about that. so i’m just really glad to be with you now, here, drinking wine and sitting in your lap and kissing you.”

“and you say i’m the romantic,” he murmurs, kissing you once more. 

“you are,” you argue. 

/\ /\ /\

neither of you even finish your first glass of wine. even if you had, there was no way the two of you were untangling from each other and making your way into the kitchen for another, not in the middle of unimportance conversations about your thoughts on christmas lights or osamu’s thoughts on the type of pet he’d like to have one day. 

but as the hours tick on, as the clock hands droop lower and lower, osamu knows that you need some sort of transition period to staying the night. “cup of tea before we go to bed?” he asks, head resting against the back cushion of the couch staring into your eyes with as much love as he can.

“are you being presumptuous again, samu?” you tease, but your eyelids are getting heavier and you can’t put a lot of effort into the taunting. 

“i’m sorry, princess, do you want to stay the night?” he asks, gut-wrenchingly sincere. 

“i would really love that, yea,” you say, flustered in the backfiring of your banter, “and tea sounds really nice too.” 

he nods, once, short and happy, ready to move you off of his lap to go get the two of you a final drink before bed, but you get off of him first. “i’ll get it,” you offer, waiting with bated breath for him to fight you on it or to be weirded out by the forwardness of raiding his kitchen to feel the domesticity a little harder.  

he doesn’t protest at all, lets the smitten, lingering stare last for a few moments before saying, “only if i can come with you.”

before you’ve made it to the kitchen with osamu in tow, he stops you, plants in place in front of the hallway to his bedroom, and nods towards it. “but first, can we get you into some comfier clothes?” he asks. “nighttime tea tastes better when you’re in comfy clothes,” he reasons. you can’t disagree. 

you follow him down the hall to his room. you don’t get a good look at his plainly decorated room or the nicely made bed as you wait in the doorway. he returns quickly with a t-shirt of his. “you can change in the bathroom across the hall if you want,” he offers.

“you know you were inside of me in a fancy restaurant bathroom hours ago, right?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, pushing past him into his room and taking off all of your date clothes. osamu folds them neatly as you set them on the bed. when he picks up your torn tights, he can’t hold back his small laugh. 

“oh yea, so funny,” you joke, “you can probably throw those away.”

“but they’re perfectly good for having sex in public bathrooms,” he jokes back. 

you pull his shirt over your head, soft cotton taking the place of going out clothes and the difference is already lulling you to sleep. you’re determined to make osamu tea, but you can’t promise most of the cup won’t go cold on the counter.

it doesn’t take long for osamu to be on you, arms wrapped around your waist, hands roaming over your body, “you look so good right now.”

“shut up,” you say, pushing him away with the least amount of resolve anyone has ever had, “imagine how i feel looking at you wearing stuff like this.”

“you look better in it than i do,” he says, shaking his head. 

“not possible,” you say back.

he leans down to kiss you once before reluctantly pulling away, walking back over to his dresser to change into comfier clothes as well. if you weren’t so stupidly tired, seeing osamu shirtless and in super casual sweatpants would’ve been the perfect catalyst for your first night together having sex in a bed.

tea. sleep. tea. sleep. tea. sleep. you remind yourself.

“c’mon, angel,” he coaxes, pulling you by your hand back down the hallway and into the kitchen. he leans against the countertop, doesn’t say another word or try to make you tea despite your earlier statement. 

you start the kettle with the push of a button, pull the mugs from across the counter in front of you. you pluck two tea bags from the glass jar where they live. you have to open a few cupboards before finding the spoons, but the sugar is right where you think it will be. 

“i think knowing that you take sugar in your tea is both the most surprising thing and also somehow completely aligns with who you are,” you reason, pouring the gently boiling water over the tea bags. by the time you finish your sentence, you’ve noticed the enamored look on his face, but you don’t have time to comment on it as he replies. 

“that’s because you know me really well,” he says, nodding, loving smile still lingering. you put half of a spoonful of sugar into the cup, stir until it dissolves and then slid it against the countertop to him. he wraps his fingers around the warm cup, brings it to his lips, blows on it gently as if that’s going to do anything at all, and then takes the smallest sip. “perfect.”

you lean against the edge of the counter, holding the mug in your hands, waiting for the air to cool down the steaming beverage. “i think i’d be really okay with ending every single day of my life just like this,” you admit. if his eyes go wide or he recoils even the smallest percentage, you’ll blame it on the eventful day and the exhaustion that’s quickly overcoming you, but they don’t. his features soften, hand reaches across the counter to rub the back of your hand. 

“me too,” he reciprocates. “you’ll have to stay over more often,” he doubles down. 

“what?” you ask, taking a sip of your tea. you can feel the warmth hit your stomach. “have dinner ready for you when you come home and spend your nights off intertwined on the couch?” everything that you’re saying is getting closer and closer to practically asking to move in, but osamu doesn’t seem to mind. 

“exactly that,” he murmurs, “you’ll have to see if you like my bed first, though, before you resign yourself to coming over every night.”

“every night?” you ask, cheeky smile the only form of teasing that you’re giving right now, “maybe we should go check it out then.” you take one more sip of your tea and then set the cup down on the counter. osamu doesn’t even do that, pulls you away from behind the counter and down the hall. 

you climb into his bed, under his covers without asking or another mention. osamu joins you, climbing into the other side, and the two of you don’t waste a single second, curling up against each other, limbs lazily tangling, pressing up against one another as close as you possibly can. 

“the first time we’re in a bed together and we’re not even having sex,” he says, softly, reaching over and turning off his bedside light. it takes a few moments for your eyes to get adjusted, to make out the shapes of his face in the dark. 

“crazy, right?” you ask, smiling as you snuggling into his chest impossibly closer. 

“i like this though,” he admits, traces his fingers up and down your arms, “just being in bed with you, falling asleep with you, means i get to wake up with you.”

you hum at his voice, soft and deep, and the darkness looks the same as it does with shut eyes, but you’re trying your best to not let the sleep take you that fast. “can you keep me awake?” you ask.

“you’re literally falling asleep as we speak,” he says, your eyelids fluttering shut as if to make a point. you shake your head, but you don’t say anything else. “why do you want me to keep you awake, babygirl?”

“cause i wanna be in this moment a little while longer,” you reason, breath taking over your voice as the darkness and warmth pull you into a comforting hug.

“we’ll have plenty of time for moments like this later,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “plenty of time, so go to sleep, angel.”

you’re not even embarrassed at how quickly you listen to him.

/\ /\ /\

if last night wasn’t enough to convince you that you were exactly where you needed to be for the rest of your life, waking up in osamu’s arms definitely was. they’re strong around you, wrapped tightly around your waist, nose nuzzled into the back of your neck, legs intertwined with yours. 

you’re incredibly surprised that you’ve woken up first, but the second that you start to stir, osamu’s grip loosens, and his head peaks over your shoulder and he places a small kiss on your cheek. “mornin’,” he says, raspy as he talks off the sleep. 

you turn in his arms, laying flat on your back so you can look at him directly. “good morning,” you say back, lifting your head to kiss him. “very good morning,” you say again. 

“cute,” he murmurs against your lips, “stupidly cute.” you reach your arms up, draping them over his neck loosely to pull him down into you. “do you want breakfast or something?” he asks.

you shake your head, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “no,” you say, “well, maybe later? i think right now i just want, y’know, this.” you gesture with a small nod not really towards anything in particular, just to the situation.

he laughs, kissing the side of your face, “alright, this it is.”

you don’t say much else. nor does he. it’s all stolen kisses and roaming touches and silent exchanges. you don’t feel the need to talk, don’t have much to say, you’re communicating just fine without them. 

every touch is getting needier, every kiss is getting longer, sloppier, more desperate, and the only thing that you’ve been able to think about for the last hour is all of the promises that have been made to you about after date things. 

it doesn’t help that he’s on top of you now, tops of his thighs resting between your legs, hands on either side of your waist just looking at you like that. the first thing you say in over an hour is, “what, samu?”  

he laughs, pushing his fingertips up your body, under the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and up until your entire stomach is exposed. “god, you’re so hot,” he says, grabbing onto your waist to pull you closer to him. 

“samu,” you whine. 

“what, doll? it’s true,” he says, pushing your shirt up even further now, tits on display so pretty that you can feel him begin to grow hard against your inner thigh. “so pretty,” he murmurs. he tugs your shirt off, tosses it to the side with no regard for the tidiness of his room anymore. 

you’ve really never been this exposed before when you’ve had sex with osamu, always an article of clothes on, but now the only thing stopping you from being completely naked is the thin fabric of your panties and osamu’s fingers are already hooked in the waistband. you don’t protest as he drags them down your thighs, picks up your legs and rests them on his shoulder as he does. 

he presses a kiss into the side of your leg, slowly drops them back around him. your stomach is in knots, can barely breathe with the way that he’s looking at you, eyes traveling down your body so slowly that you can see each point that they linger a second longer.

“fuck, you look good,” osamu says, leaning down to kiss your shoulders, your collarbones, your chest.

“shut up,” you murmur, fingers threading into his hair, scratching against the back of his head as he scrapes his teeth against your sensitive skin.

“no, i’m serious,” he says, leaning back, “you’re so fucking pretty, gorgeous actually.”

“ew, shut up,” you push him away jokingly, gently, “or i’m not going to let you fuck me unless we’re fully clothed ever again,” you joke.

he laughs against your neck, breath and vibrations tickling the wet skin. every single kiss feels personal, hand-crafted and perfectly thought of just for you. the placement is direct and purposeful and you can feel his love in every single one. 

“god, i’m going to take my time with you,” he says, pulling away again. you can feel the blush blooming under your skin, warming up every inch of you, igniting fires in your stomach.

“first time that we have a lot of it,” you joke, coaxing him back up to your lips. “and first time that i don’t have to be situated on a sink or the floor.”

“so you’ll be perfectly comfortable,” he says, kisses trailing between your tits and down your stomach, “while i eat you all morning long.”

“samu,” you say, crook of your elbow rising up to your face to hide behind it. he reaches up, pulls it away from your face. 

“don’t hide from me, doll, look so cute like that,” he says, laying between your thighs, pushing them open with familiar hands. you give in to the gentle pressure so easily that you swear you hear the faintest laugh coming from Osamu, but the light kisses peppering your thighs that follow gain your focus instantly. 

it should feel agonizing, the way he takes his time dragging his lips across every part of the skin between your legs, kissing and biting lightly. but the longer he’s there the more laughter flutters through your chest, the more your cheeks flush, the more loved you feel. you bring your hands to his face as he rests his head against your knee cupping one under his jaw and using the other to push his hair back a little. 

“make me feel so pretty, samu,” you mumble. he makes no attempt to answer, just holds your gaze with loving eyes as he brings himself to ghost near your already soaked pussy, the feeling his breath overwhelming any of your other senses. 

“just want you to see yourself through my eyes, princess.” the end of his sentence comes with a long, slow swipe of his tongue against your hyper sensitive clit and it feels good to finally not worry about who can hear you. 

you dig your head back into the pillow, hair already a mess after a perfectly restful night’s sleep. you can feel his eyes burning into you, even if you can’t see them, even if your focus is really anywhere but the agonizing feather-like touches between your legs.  

it’s a shame, you think, but only for a moment, that his mouth is so busy that you can’t hear him call you pretty names or poke fun at you for whining so much. only for a moment. 

if there’s one thing that osamu cannot be called it’s all-or-nothing. osamu doesn’t do all-or-nothing; he does slowly, consistently, comfortably, and then all. this is no exception. he runs his tongue between your puffy lips, smears your juices all over your sensitive pussy with the tip, and then he eats you- not like a man-starved, but like a man who he gets to indulge in his favorite dessert. 

his fingertips are digging into the fat of your hips, palms pressing to keep you in place, to keep you from squirming, and it’s working. he lets you scratch your nails into his hair, down the back of his neck, resting on the tops of his shoulders. you don’t guide him, don’t buck your hips impatiently, you don’t need to. if he isn’t lapping exactly where you want him to, you know he will be soon, you know it’s deliberate, you know that he knows what’s best for you even if you have to wait for it. 

you’re not sure you know how many times you come on his tongue, how many are attributed to just his tongue and how many are attributed to the noises that he’s making, the grunts that are coming from his throat, the mumbled praises that he’s whispering against your soaked folds, the squeaking of the mattress from the soft grinding that he’s doing against the blankets. 

without a watch, you’d have claimed you were there for hours, all morning, just like he said. you’re not sure if he would’ve stopped either, if you hadn’t sat up on your forearm, somehow more out of breath than he was, and tugged on his hair. “samu, baby,” you whine. 

you can’t help it, the even-more-breathless-breathlessness that hits you when he looks into your eyes, bottom of his face soaked with you, licks his lips, wipes the rest of it with his palm, and crawls slowly up to meet you. he kisses you hard, as hard as you’ll let him, and then he kisses you again, and then he kisses your cheek, and then your jaw, then your neck, mumbles against your skin, “what do you want now, bunny?” he’ll give you anything. “i’ll give you anything.” you know that he will. 

the opportunities are endless. the world is your oyster. anything that you ask for, he will give you, and it will be wrapped with neat paper and a pretty bow with a handwritten note several miles long. you swallow, eyes searching his face for nothing in particular, just because he’s pretty and because he’s yours. 

“i don’t think i have anything to ask for, because you’re already mine,” you whisper.

his face lights up, skin hot and flushed on the highs of his cheeks and traveling down his neck and chest. for a second it looks like he short-circuits, like you’ve broken him just by telling him the truth, and then, in a second, the world catches back up to him. 

he shakes his head slowly and then you’re on top of him, sat with both legs on either sides of his, strong hands steadying you before you can even clock that you need to be steadied. “you’re really asking for it, huh?” he asks, and now you’re feeling warm.

“i- what are you talking about, samu,” you say, eyebrows furrowed. you can feel his hips- and yourself- lift off the bed as the fabric between the backs of your thighs and the tops of his is replaced with soft skin. you yelp softly as you’re lowered back down, hands on your inner thighs pushing you back just enough for his cock to rest between them. 

you’re soaking wet, making a mess between your lips and on the insides of your legs and now all over his hard cock, slowly pushing through your pressed together thighs. he brings his hips off the bed, steady thrusts rocking the mattress ever so slightly, both his hands squeezing the outsides of your thighs. he clicks his tongue, “saying shit like that, angel, you know i’m not going to be able to help myself.”

“samu,” you repeat, breathless. “what ar-.”

he cuts you off, sliding his thumb from the tip of his cock to the base, his leaking head slipping between your messy lips until it’s teasing your hole. “sound so in love with me, baby, need to fucking feel you around me so fucking bad right now,” he breathes, sharp inhale punctuating his sentence as he pulls you by your hips until you’re fully seated on his cock. 

you don’t know if the warmth is coming from the blush or touch of his skin or the desire that’s burning in your core, but it’s there, and before you can even fully register what he’s saying, he’s honest-to-god whimpering, spouting more lovey bullshit, “god, it’s like falling in love with you made you fit even more perfectly around me.” he lifts you slightly, fingers digging into your hips as he lets you slowly fall back down onto his cock. 

he tilts his head into the pillow, but immediately picks it back up, locking eyes with you before letting his gaze fall down your body, like he can’t believe you really exist, like he can’t believe he let himself relax into a position where he couldn’t see you at all times, like he “can’t believe you’re fucking real,” he grunts, “and that you’re all fucking mine.”

“osamu, if you don’t knock it off,” you say. you’re only half-joking. you’re not sure that you could take him talking to you like this for much longer. you feel so full, every part of you feels so full. you slide your hands down his chest, palm against his rapidly beating heart acting as leverage as you start moving in time with him.

you close your eyes, partially to focus on the parts of you that are on fire right now, and partially so that you don’t have to keep looking at how much osamu is looking at you. he can’t keep his hands off of you, can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“can’t help it, pretty, not when i get to savor it like this,” he says, brings his chest up and wraps his arms around your back, holding you securely to him. he kisses the side of your face, whispers in your ear, “not when i finally get to fuck you in my bed and tell you that i love you and see you- all of you.” 

“are you trying to make me cry or something?” you ask, placing both of your hands on either side of his face, forcing his attention on just your eyes and the hints of shyness strewn all over your face. 

a slight smirk is followed by raised eyebrows and a tiny kiss to the temple. osamu flips you over, lying you gently on your back while you’re still fully encompassing him. “that can be arranged, puppy,” he says, kissing down your neck, nipping at your shoulders and chest. he slams his hips into you and you can’t help the pleasured, high-pitched moan that comes as a result. in fact, you can’t help the ones that come one after another after another as he keeps snapping his hips, insides of your thighs growing raw from the impact.

you’re babbling at this point, a symphony of half-finished words and tiny whimpers, and when a single tear breaks free of your blurred waterline, osamu can’t hold back. “fuck, holy fuck, babygirl, you sound so good, don’t stop, princess, keep making those cute fucking noises, fuck, sound so good.” 

you shake your head no and hope that he understands what it means, that you won’t stop as long as he doesn’t. you’ll cry and scream and make cute little noises for him forever if he never pulls out of you. 

you’ve always known that fucking in bathrooms has been disadvantageous, you just couldn’t pinpoint it, not when it always felt so good anyway. you never thought the space bothered you or the hard, cold various materials of sinks or the fact that people were often only a door away; you never thought any of that mattered until now, now when you can cry for him and feel the softness of the blankets beneath you and the plushness of the pillow behind your head.

“baby,” you cry, “i’m- you’re gonna- fuck, i love you so much. i’m-.” you throw your head back, you can’t finish your half-constructed sentence before osamu is fucking you faster, harder, wrapping an arm around your lower back and lifting you up the slightest bit to angle you perfectly. your hand moves on instinct, reaches down between your legs and circles your throbbing clit for only a second before you’re squirting all over him, a release of pressure drenching him as you gasp for air, drawing in enough breath to cry out his name.

you place your hand on his lower abs, eyes closing softly to center yourself. you could’ve passed out right here, slept for a million years, and you’re not sure you would’ve completely recovered. your body is shaking, throat is sore, and when you open your eyes, osamu is looking at you with such adoration and awe that you’re certain you’ve missed something. 

“the first time we’re not in a fucking bathroom and you fucking make me squirt,” you mumble, shaking your head, “what are we going to do with you?” you ask, removing your hand from his stomach, silently letting him know you’ve recovered enough for him to keep going. 

“i don’t care,” he says, kissing your jaw, “i don’t care what you do with me for the rest of my life, that was the most amazing thing i’ve ever seen.”

“you made a mess,” you tease.

“i made a mess?” he asks.

you nod. 

he breathes a laugh before accepting responsibility, “i made a mess,” he confirms. 

“so you’ve gotta do one thing for me,” you say, circling your hips, matching his lazy thrusts as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“anything,” he says. and you know that he means it. 

you use your loose grip around his neck to coax him closer to you, your lips now pressed against his ear. “need you to make a mess inside of me, samu, please,” you say, low enough to send shivers down his spine from the tone alone. his hips stutter. he wants to regain composure, to not give in to blowing his load deep inside of you just from you saying his name and asking him nicely, he really wants to savor it and last a little bit longer. 

but you’re so wet. you’re drenched, but you’re still so tight and sucking him in so nicely, perfectly sculpted for him, gummy walls still clenching and fluttering from your orgasm, and you kiss the skin right below his ear and you say, “please, i’ve been waiting for it ever since i fucking met you, please, don’t make me wait any longer.”

and he can’t. 

he wouldn’t.

he doesn’t.

he snaps his hips forwards, pressing himself flush against the insides of your thighs and releases deep inside of you. you can feel his cock pulse with each stream, feel yourself getting fuller and fuller and fuller with each throb and accompanying grunt. you can’t get enough. you don’t want it to ever stop, but it does. he keeps himself deep inside of you for a moment, not wanting to lose the feeling just as much as you don’t. 

when he starts to get soft, he pulls out, come dripping out of your hole and onto the blankets below just adding to the mess the two of you have created in the span of a few hours. he doesn’t exactly know where to go, what to do. the two of you could’ve passed out just like this, intertwined together and had the most incredible sleep of your entire life, if it weren’t for the huge mess beneath you. 

“what now?” you mumble, not moving. 

you feel osamu flop next to you. you’re not sure if he’s avoided the mess or if he’s embraced it. part of you wants to stand up and apologize and start throwing his bedspread in the washer, but that part of you isn’t winning, not today. if that part of osamu exists, it’s not winning either. he wraps his arms around your waist, rests his head on your chest, pulls you into him. 

“are we just going to lay in this?” you say, laughing. it sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth, but you’re sure it wouldn’t take much convincing for you to not have to move from this very spot. osamu doesn’t answer you, but you feel him unwrap from your body and then get off the bed. you go to sit up, but you don’t make it that far, opening your eyes as osamu pulls the blankets out from under you and throws them in a heap in the corner of his tidy room. he opens the closet door and comes back with a spare, small, but clean blanket. 

he reassumes his position on the now-much-more-acceptable bed, throwing the blanket overtop of you and him and cuddling into your side. “is that better?” he asks, but he doesn’t really expect a response. your small smile and content hum is all he needs. 

after only a few moments, recuperated by a clean blanket and strong arms, your body is ready to move onto the next thing, ready to get up and start making breakfast or start kissing him again or start getting ready for work despite how long you have until your shift. your skin is antsy, pulse is quickening. there are a trillion things in your head that you want to do with osamu, plenty of dull activities that seem like they’ll be much better with him by your side. you want to see them. you want to do them.

osamu shifts and pulls you into his chest, kisses the top of your head. “love you, angel,” he murmurs into your hair. “love you so much,” he says again. you feel calmer now, the most at ease you’ve ever been, because you know that there’ll be time for all of that, plenty of time, hours and hours of time to do all of the things that you want to do with osamu, more time than you know what to do with, you just know it.

for now, all you have to do is lay here, in bed, surrounded by warmth in more ways that you thought were possible, maybe let sleep take you again or stay awake in these passing moments, it doesn’t really matter. your exhale is steady, matches with his. you close your eyes and you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now. 

you look happy there. 

you look really happy there.

taglist: @miyaluv127 @useless-bicth @mushasstuff @unstaaableaf @mimivinx @tsukiran @kurapika-1999 @hehatesmati @karmakarter @hunny-hotline @bella009888 @um-no-ok @footjib @mon-cherries @privthemis @agashki @renster05 @greeniegreengreen @tokyo-banana @fandomtrash5092 @coyloves @heathsuii @pasta-water @ran-rangasma @ayz-it-they @ellesalzar @dabibreeder @s4m1 @perry-gallifrey @barely-coherent @katsunarii @thisbicc @jaynawayna @levis-wheelchair @sugar-crumbs @miyaslvt @sheeshizzy @i0nlyr343mut @ajbutasimp @snazzyturtles @idontevenknowlolls @nicerthanu @angelgvtzzz @lovely-part-time-whore @lilac-ski3s @dovenu @heirxx @kur0obaby @tetsuswhore @alienvarmint @georgettesand @misfit-megumi @bijuu-naginata @captain-alien-america @ti-mame @buckys-hoeee @whos-curiosity-killed-the-cat @stargazing-girl @whoisgami @zany17 @privthemis @pennylanewrites @buckys-hoeee @avfox24 @reinertiddiejuice @poke-pia @its-simply-me19 @nahcho @sugamonster22 @destinyg237 @msbyomimi

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

tori talks more: i do not know if i'll be around to write more to be honest with you. like i probably will at some point, but who knows. maybe when the new movie comes out. maybe ill do a jjk pivot bc i just finished it. feel free to scream in my inbox abt it or this or whatever. ily all and im so glad i could finally finish this. <3 :)

[hana-no-seiiki]

YANDERE ! BATFAM W/ MILES MORALES (BUT GENDER NEUTRAL) ! READER

Just an outline for a potential full on fic to come.

First of all, I’d like to put credit where credit is due and thank Kden (from Quotev) for creating Straight Venomous and inspiring me to start this. And thank you firefly-graphics and galacticgrafitti for the dividers.

Damian and Reader are of legal age in this fic but there will still be an age gap between them and Bruce (I mean he literally fathered the former so it can’t be helped)

This is my first fic in Tumblr so forgive me if it isn’t up to par for quality and format wise as I’m still learning.

CW/TW: Reader is POC coded as in Latino/Black like Miles although you can kinda have to squint since it’s only from the dialogue with their mother in future chapters. Reader is described to have gained “muscles” and height. Spoilers for Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse. NO NSFW YET BUT WILL COME IN LATER CHAPTERS.

current status: unedited

summary: damian meets and gets attracted to wrinkly brained reader. mostly follows the into the spiderverse plot.

Reply if you’d like to be added to this series’s taglist.

[ PART TWO ] [ PART THREE ]

WHAT’S UP DANGER (PART ONE)

“If I sound lazy just ignore my tone, cause I’m always gonna answer when you call my phone

like what’s up danger?”

You most likely met Damian first.

He was astonished by how much of a failure you were. Really, he wouldn’t have noticed you in the first place if you weren’t such a catastrophe. He knew you only got to his school via raffle but even the worst students here didn’t get complete zeroes on all their scores.

He was probably assigned to be your tutor. Which you remember vehemently refusing. After all you wanted to be expunged from this god awful preppy school filled with elites of all kinds. But nope — you were forced to get along with the worst of them all. Damian Wayne. Perhaps you’ve gone too far and should have settled for a 20 or something on that paper instead . . . or all those quizzes and assignments you purposely got zeroes on.

In any case you now had the Damian Wayne inside your house (if you even call it that) and a paper to write about your ambitions or whatever.

You were basically complete opposites. He was rich, you were below average if not just straight up poor. You even bet he was a daddy’s boy or some shit. (But who were you to judge when your first day at the school literally consisted of your father forcing you to say you love him . . . with the loudest speakers known to man!) He was probably into classical music and while you did enjoy the genre as well you were more of a hip-hop, trap, pop music sorta guy. He was known as a snob that didn’t take bullshit from anyone while you were literally the definition of a pushover.

But surprisingly you two clicked really well. It started with you off-handedly correcting one of his mistakes. It wasn’t supposed to reach his ears really. But the realization that you, the bottom feeder of all bottom feeders corrected him flustered him entirely. That moment stuck within his head for the entire week that it even slipped into his vigilante activities.

Like, after single-handedly decimating a group of people trying to rob a bank he just yells, “How the hell did I get that wrong?!” while that one dude pretending to be unconscious in the background so he wouldn’t get beaten up harder just stares at him in confusion and shock.

After he cools down a bit, he starts wondering how you got it right. He looks into your scores and notices everything before his intervention were literally straight zeroes. Not just in the classes you two shared. It was either you were extremely (un)lucky or . . . you knew every answer from the start.

So he starts taunting you. Forcing you to display your prowess. Calling you an idiot, poor, nobody when you didn’t relent to his provocation.

And so you did. You showed him that you really didn’t need help from him. That you were a genius in your own right. Capable of doing advanced arithmetics within seconds in your head. You were fascinating to him.

And maybe the fact that only he got to know this side of you — not your classmates or teachers, even your parents now that you’ve secured a dorm room close to him (courtesy of the Wayne name) — knew about your intelligence inflated his ego. If only you didn’t have a roommate that bothered you two once in a while. He was quite the annoyance with how the music in his headphones could be heard even across the room. Like seriously, how was the boy not deaf yet?

It was around that time you got your powers.

You began avoiding him (and everyone really) but mostly him (he’d convinced himself). You’d only come to his desk once in a while to tell him that you weren’t available for tutoring that day, or even that entire week. Not to mention your sudden growth in height and muscles. Were you going through . . . puberty? No wait— you’re older than him by a year! Perhaps you were a late bloomer? You probably just started a gym membership. But he didn’t spot you in any gyms throughout Gotham out on his patrol. Not even at your room at night…

That and your already sus scores and attitude prompted him to instigate an entire investigation.

Who was [Y/N] [L/N]?

He knew some facts about you just from your room, the fact that you enjoyed music of all sorts and art, more specifically the graphic - pop look. He even started noticing your name-tags that you’d put everywhere both in his civilian and vigilante life. Seriously, how were you able to put it atop this streetlamp of all places?

Then he started noticing how alike you two actually are. Aside from enjoying art and all, you were incredibly rebellious. You had a relationship with your dad that could only remind him of his with Bruce. He knew you probably get reprimanded for all the vandalism you’ve gotten up to all the time. A small smile graced his lips at the thought.

However this only made him question your avoidance even more. So he decided to take a step further and trail you as robin (even harder).

You were getting really close with this Gwen girl in class. He quipped in his head as he noticed you two walking together.

Were you . . . going to the gym to impress her?

You didn’t seem like the type to change yourself for the sake of others. Despite your downtrodden attitude about academics. He can see the hidden potential, that confidence he wanted out for him to witness and bask in. He wanted to see all sides of you he realized.

He wanted to be the only one who did.

But just as he was about to follow you two into a dark alleyway he gets called by Dick of all people to investigate something else. Something about a man trying to cross realities and universes? Pah, as if that was more important than this. Nightwing can handle himself. He couldn’t have his competence questioned though. So with a reluctant sigh, he takes off into the night sky. Wondering what the pair he followed could be doing.

[ PART TWO ] [ PART THREE ]

[diorsluv]

feather , part 10

“ i’m saying ‘no, no, no, no more’ ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by lhughes_06, adamfantilli, mackie.samo, and 74,028 others

yourusername little women hurt my brain so i went back to my happy place (aka gossip girl)

view all comments

edwards.73 i’m kinda scared to ask but uh… what’s the difference between gossip girl and gilmore girls

→ yourusername unfollow me rn

→ colecaufield wait no he’s valid (i don’t know the difference either)

→ yourusername both of u have asked me this 20 times already. i’m blocking u two.

markestapa i know the difference between gossip girl and gilmore girls!

→ mackie.samo me too!!

→ yourusername yeah bc u come to my place for gossip girl marathons like every other day

username64 LITTLE WOMEN

username78 FLORENCE PUGH OH MY GOD

jackhughes little women gives me war flashbacks

→ yourusername i wonder why 🤨

→ jackhughes hmmm maybe because you CALLED ME FOR 5 HOURS STRAIGHT JUST TO RANT TO ME ABOUT IT

→ yourusername IM SORRY

username14 is no one gonna talk about how she posted this at 2 in the morning 😭😭

bookerburke_ gossip girl is the one with the guy that played sam in supernatural right

→ yourusername no sweetie that’s gilmore girls…..

→ cole.caufield HEY HOW COME YOU’RE NICE TO HIM ABOUT IT BUT NOT US yourusername

username21 at least bertram isn’t in one of the pics this time

→ username35 LMAO BERTRAM

username69 i’m kinda sorta in love with your taste in tv shows and movies

yourusername

liked by jackhughes, adamfantilli, trevorzegras, and 82,185 others

yourusername went through my old photos and i guess this is sort of a photo dump.. if u ask me to explain the pics i might…….

so for all the trev, luke, jack, quinn, luca, mark, rut, turcs, eddy, and mackie girls, i hope you’re happy 🫶🫶

tagged: trevorzegras, _quinnhughes, mackie.samo, edwards.73, jackhughes, lhughes_06, _alexturcotte, rutgermcgroarty, luca.fantilli, markestapa

view all comments

lhughes_06 please for the love of god don’t explain the cow photo

→ username44 what happened in the cow photo 😧

→ yourusername okay username44 so basically i walked out of my parents house and i saw luke’s dumbass in a cow suit standing right next to my car

→ lhughes_06 I WAS 16 AND JACK SAID IF I DID IT HE’D DO MY CHORES FOR TWO WEEKS

adamfantilli why didn’t you post me 🫤🫤

→ yourusername i didn’t have any old bad pics of you 😕

username4 quinner is contemplating his life in that fishing pic

luca.fantilli okay but that cake was kind of good

→ yourusername uh huh maybe bc i made it

→ luca.fantilli ok i don’t know bout all THAT 🤣

→ yourusername ur the worst fantilli brother

trevorzegras i didn’t know everyone fell asleep on top of me on the couch 😅😅

_alexturcotte let me just say i beat cole in arm wrestling

→ cole.caufield yeah butttt who got the bigger gains??

→ _alexturcotte oh shut up

→ yourusername it’s okay turcs, not everyone’s as strong as cauliflower here

→ _alexturcotte BUT I LITERALLY BEAT HIM?? yourusername

→ cole.caufield hey lil drizzy i thought we left that nickname in 2020 🙃

markestapa you know i actually rode that skateboard pretty well

→ yourusername you fell flat on your ass

username76 i love how she’s exposing EVERYONE

edwards.73 hey it was fun getting thrown into the pool

→ yourusername says the one that started screaming bloody fuckin murder as soon as he hit the water

mackie.samo i look so disheveled eating that cake

rutgermcgroarty see me and jack held each other up in that second photo bc we’re just too strong for our own goods

→ jackhughes 🗣️🗣️

→ yourusername whatever helps you sleep at night

next chapter notes ) i’m actually grinding these chapters out it’s insane this one was really fun to make, esp the second post 😈😈 and also no booker this time so i hope yall like it a bit more lmaooo

[gretavangroupie]

The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 7)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Allusions to Cheating, Lying, Jealousy, Sexual Themes, Crying.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

A/N: Thanks so much for waiting for us while we took our little break. We had the absolute best time at our shows. We plotted and schemed most of the week and there really is quite a bit of exciting new things on the horizon, so keep your eyes peeled.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

DUBLIN, IRELAND

HER POV

“There,” you whispered, putting the final touches on the food display. You gathered up the empty boxes and trash and made your way out the back door of the venue to dispose of them. You hoped you wouldn’t see anyone along the way, keeping your AirPods in as a public declaration to leave you alone.

You’d thrown yourself into work the last week, doing things that didn’t even fall under your scope of work just to fill the time. Your phone was on mute, but that didn't stop the calls. The texts. The songs. They all still came, but you paid them no mind. You couldn’t. You couldn’t be that girl. You couldn’t be the one to ruin a relationship. 

You hadn’t spoken to Jake since the friend request came through. You still hadn’t even accepted it. You didn’t know if you even should. She obviously knew who you were, and that alone scared you more than anything. How did she know?

You hadn’t spoken to Josh either. He had done his best to avoid you since that night in the bar, his look more than disappointed as he walked away. You felt a twinge of regret that you’d let him down, but you and Jake were nothing, and he has a girlfriend. He should be more mad at Jake than you. 

A call rings through your AirPods, the robotic voice alerting you to Ruth’s Facetime call. You make the split second decision to accept it, pulling your phone from your pocket and tapping the green button. 

“Hello,” you answer, shielding your face from the sun. 

“God, it’s so weird that it’s sunset there and I’m just now eating breakfast,” she says, taking a bite of a bagel. 

“Babes it’s literally what, noon there? Why are you just now eating breakfast?”

“Ugh, this isn’t about me, quit changing the subject,” she gripes.

“What?! I just–”

“Did you accept it yet?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“No! Are you insane! Why would I do that! Then she would know that I know who she is, and then she would know that I know she knows who I am!” you shout. 

“Yeah, I…am not even gonna try to decipher what you just said,” she says, shaking the ice in her coffee. 

“Ruth! Ugh!”

“What!? I’d accept it, you have nothing to hide. It’s not like you’re posting about him.”

“But–”

“But what? Show her you’re a hot bitch and she should be scared!” she laughs, tilting her head side to side. 

“You are actually a terrible influence,” you scoff. 

“Fine, what about McSexy,” she says, slurping up the last bits of coffee through her straw.

“Are you done with that yet? GOD.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she laughs, tossing it into the trash. “Spill about Beefy McGuns before I throw myself off a cliff.”

“Yeah I am the dramatic one,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “Murph is…well, he’s good I guess. We have been hanging out a little bit since… ya know. We snuck into the hotel pool a few days ago, got Gelato night before last and last night we went to Temple Bar because the guys had an outing thing.”

“Okay, so you and McDouble are like kinda hot and heavy courting,” she asks. 

“Please don’t call him McDouble, that is gross. I mean, courting sounds kinda…more serious than it is. We are just hanging out.”

“A lot.”

“Yeah, kind of a lot,” you admit. 

“Do you like him more than Mr. Pene-Traitor?”

“RUTH ANNE!” you shout, trying to stifle back laughter. 

“Answer the question,” she snaps. 

“No! I don’t know! I mean, I like them equally for different reasons,” you answer.

“Well who is better in the sack?”

“Um…”

“Oh my god, you haven't slept with McSexy yet?” she asks, mouth gaping open.

“No! It hasn’t…gone there yet,” you reply. 

“Yet…So you intend for it to…” she smirks. 

“Well, I wouldn’t hate it,” you laugh. “I’m kinda like not planning to sleep with Jake again after all this shit. Murph seems less…complicated. He’s fun, and respectful, and we just mesh so well when we hangout. We have a lot in common and it’s just so easy. It’s not serious or anything but I’m trying to see where this thing goes.”

“So guitar daddy is out, officially…”

“Jesus Christ, Ruth.” you sigh, “I mean I haven't spoken to him in almost a week now. I’ve been ignoring every attempt and conveniently finding myself in the opposite room as him. I don't know what to even say to him without exploding so I have just been saying nothing.”

“Has he added any songs or anything?” she asks, quirking a brow. 

“A few but I haven’t replied,” you answer. 

“Oh I bet it’s eating him up, too.”

You shrug your shoulders as you see the back door open, Sam stepping out to light up a cigarette. 

“Hey, I gotta go, the family unit is present,” you say quietly nodding your head to the side. 

“Okay, well, personally I think you should accept her request. I’d think it's more suspicious that you haven’t if I were her. Maybe she just wants to talk.”

“I will think about it,” you say, pursing your lips. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Alright alright, and don’t forget my souvenir. I want one with sandy brown hair, blue eyes and an Irish accent.”

“You are actually so annoying.”

Your phone dings in your ear as a text flashes across the screen. 

“Oh shit,” you gasp. “It’s Murph.”

“What's up McBeefy?!” Ruth shouts. 

You open the text, reading it over quickly as a smile crosses your face. 

“Oh okay, why are you blushing Y/N? Huh, huh? Why you smiling like that?”

“So, he just said that The Black Keys are going to be in Glasgow on our day off next week,” you say, a little shocked. 

“As in The Black Keys that you’ve loved your whole life Black Keys?”

“Those would be the ones…”

You

6:02PM: How did you know I love them?

Murph

6:03PM: Just had a feeling 😉

Murph

6:04PM: I’m gonna tell the guys, I’m sure they will want to go. 

You

6:05PM: I definitely want to go.

Murph

6:06PM: Well good thing I just bought us tickets

“Hello?! Earth to Y/N!” Ruth shouts, and truthfully you forgot she was on the line. 

“Fuck, sorry,” you say, reopening Facetime.

“What did you say?!”

“I told him I want to go and he said he already bought us tickets,” you smile. 

“Mmhm, yeah it’s not serious at all though,” she mocks. 

“Gotta go! Love you bye!” you smile, ending the call and shoving your phone into your pocket.

You nod to Sam as you walk back into the building, making your way back into the greenroom to finish up. Your music begins to play through your AirPods again, and you feel a sense of calmness now that you’ve gotten a little reassurance from Ruth. You tidy up the room a bit, grabbing a few empty cans and chip bags and banishing them to the trash can that is seemingly invisible to these four men.

Just as you turn around you see Jake stepping into the room with his eyes on you. 

Fuck. 

You jump back a bit in shock, watching as he throws his hands up in innocence.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, a guilty look on his face. 

You pull your earbuds from your ears and place them in their case as you lean against the wall behind you. “It’s fine. What’s up?” you ask, trying to seem casual. 

“You think we can talk for a second?” he asks, rubbing his fingers over his chin. 

“Um, right now? I’m just finishing this up?” you counter, not really feeling like this is the best time for, well, this. 

He walks over to the small couch, tapping the spot next to him, “Please, just for a second.”

His brown eyes lock with yours and you know there is no way you can deny him. He had that effect on you. You nod and walk over to him, sitting next to him. Maybe this is it. 

You watch as he pulls in a deep breath as if trying to organize the thoughts in his head. He swallows nervously and turns his gaze to you. 

“You know, this last week has been…well, to be honest, it’s been complete shit,” he starts, locking his fingers together. “We went from seeing each other nearly every day and texting and everything to…whatever this is. Not speaking…”

You nod your head, wanting to hear his piece before giving your own. 

“I miss you. I’ve missed you a lot. I have hated every second of this silence and I would very much like to get things back to how they were before… all of this.”

Did Josh not tell him about Murph? Surely he had…

His hand reaches for yours, grabbing it in his own as he continues and you are praying he is ready to come clean. 

JAKE POV

“I know I’ve been a total and complete asshole, Y/N, and you don’t deserve that. That’s not me,” you go on, squeezing her hands in yours. Your voice continues to crack, and the emotion you feel while telling her all this actually surprises you. It’s hard to talk to her, hard to get things out. But you only know that it is because you’re positive that it all means something bigger. Your internal alarm clock is ticking, you can feel the time to get on stage is drawing closer and closer. “I just want you to know how sorry I am.”

“Jake, listen. I appreciate your apology, but I'm still not even sure what you’re sorry for? I mean, I know shit went sideways but, you never even told me why…” she goes on, pure confusion painting her expression. “I know that I was and am being left in the dark about something, and I don’t want to end up looking like the idiot.”

“Fuck, I know,” you say, rubbing a hand over your face. You can feel the bile swirling in your stomach as you prepare to speak again. “If you… I want to talk to you some more, and explain myself, but…”

“...You go on in like fifteen minutes and you aren’t even dressed yet,” she answers.

You nod, sucking in your bottom lip. Her eyes are glazed over, not with tears, but with some other overwhelming sentiment. Your voice shakes as you go on. “If you’re willing to hear me out, I have a long story I want to tell you.”

She takes a second to consider, and you know that she could just as easily tell you to fuck off, get away from her, and to never speak to her again. But instead she nods, meeting your eyes with pity. “It’s hard saying yes to this Jake, I’m not gonna lie…”

“I know it is. I know it, I’m so sorry, I’m just. You deserve to hear it all. From me,” you beg. The anxiety of it all is making you dizzy, and you hadn’t even told her anything yet. But you’re positive that when the time comes, it will all be worth it. She’s worth it. 

“Please trust me.”

She nods again. “Just…come to my room after the show?”

“I’ll be there,” you agree with a smile, and you feel the faintest hint of positivity, a tiny flame burning at the end of the tunnel. 

—

After an electric show, you dab the towel across your forehead and neck, wiping away the heavy sweat beads that continue to pour down. 

“Just keeps getting better and better, guys!” Paul compliments you as you pass by, making your way down the hall to the green room. 

“Thanks, man. Appreciate you,” you reply with a pat to his shoulder.

“Daniel, you hitting the shower?” you ask as you watch him take a seat on a red leather chair.

“Mm, here in a few, gonna have a drink first.” He pulls Mia over by the hand to sit on his lap, playfully wiping his sweat-covered arm across her face. “Where are Josh and Sam?”

You quietly walk over to the craft table, giving Y/N a sweet glance as you grab a mini bag of chips from the box, watching as she and Ty fiddle around with whatever random food is displayed across the table. “I dunno, they seemed like they were bickering all night, did you notice that?”

“Mmmhm,” Danny says through a long drink of a seltzer. “I could literally see the fuckin’ blurry tension between them, who the hell knows. He say anything to you, Ly?”

“Mmm, nope. Didn’t say anything to me…” Lyla avoids his gaze. You glance to Ty, and he offers you the same answer.

Just then, Josh and Sam burst through the door in a huffed mess of antics, yelling obscenities at one another as Josh’s hands fly up in the air around him. These two rarely fight, but every once in a while, one of them will get under the other’s skin. And sometimes it’s even worse, when they both manage to piss the other off so profusely, things can sometimes get physical. 

Josh’s voice is raised, and Sam’s face and neck are blotched red. You know that whatever it is, it isn’t good. 

“How about you stay the hell out of my face and sit the fuck down somewhere, huh?” Sam yells, grabbing a White Claw from the mini fridge and chugging it all almost in one drink. Your eyes dart directly to Danny who is just as stunned as you are, and equally as confused. 

“I’ll sit the fuck down when you stop running your fucking mouth, Sam,” Josh barks.

“Whoa, whoa, what the hell is going on?” you ask, moving toward them.

“Oh nothing, nothing, brother. Nothing at all,” Sam huffs, fury raging from him. You watch his eyeliner-covered eyes skitter across the room and finally land on Y/N, glaring at her from his peripheral. What the fuck?

For some reason, just his look pisses you off. 

“Not nothing, the fuck is your problem?” you ask him again, shooting your eyes between him and Josh. You see Mia rise up from Danny’s lap, joining Lyla on the couch. They sit closely together, and you swear they’re both biting back laughs. 

You finally move your eyes to Josh, giving him a stern look only the two of you can understand. ‘You got something to say?’ you ask him in your mind. 

He replies with an eye roll, shrugging his shoulders as he slips his stage jacket off. Josh is biting his tongue, you can tell, and the look in his eye is one you’ve seen often. With whatever rage he’s harboring mixed with the however many fireball shots he’s taken tonight, this could get bad. 

You look at Danny, as he knows the heavy feeling in the room all too well, too. You mentally ask him for backup.

Danny stands and clears his throat. “Uh, so… we going out tonight? We’re wasting moonlight if so…”

You jump in and agree. “Yeah, yeah let’s go grab a Guinness or something.” The room stays quiet as you and Danny make moves to get going, but the heaviness is still there. You decide to turn the attention elsewhere. “Y/N, Ty, you coming out with us?”

You can tell that Y/N feels like she’s invading the awkward encounter that’s currently happening in the room, just from her body language. 

“Yeah, um, sure… I suppose…” she says meekly. You offer her a little grin of reassurance.

“Oh, you mean you’re not hanging out with Murph tonight? Shocking!” Josh interjects, the tone of his voice menacing. Your head shoots to him. 

Y/N shakes her head, her entire demeanor falling. “Uh, no? No, why would I…” she stammers. 

“Just figured,” Josh continues, “You guys seemed pretty cozy the other night when I caught you making out at the bar in Paris, just thought you’d be continuing the festivities!”

“Josh!” Ty yells.

Hold…the fuck…on…

Your ears go deaf as you process Josh’s words, all the blood draining from your body, your extremities numb, your throat instantly dry. What the fuck. What the fuck??? He’s lying… That’s not true… she wouldn’t…

You hear a collective snicker from Mia and Lyla, both of them obviously loving whatever fucking show is happening right now. 

You somehow find the courage to look at Y/N, her face bloodshot and dripping with embarrassment as she turns away.

You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. Making out? With Murph? Paris… a week ago? And Josh didn’t bother to…

You can’t find the will to move, or speak, or breathe or anything. Your mind is wracked with confusion and stress, wondering what in the hell is going to happen next.

—

HER POV

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you turn to look at Josh. 

Why? Why did he say that?

Your eyes scan the room as everyone stares at you, but all you can focus on is the look on Jake's face. It was a look similar to the one you received from Josh that night, but Jake’s hurt worse. Hit you deeper. You feel the knife twisting in your chest. 

You can see his neck growing red, the color creeping up into his cheeks as his anger starts to bubble up. Your eyes flash over to Mia and Lyla who are snickering in the corner like two highschool bullies. 

You shake your head and press your tongue to your cheek as you try to figure out an appropriate response. You decide at that moment that you owe none of them a single word. You silently grab your things and head to the door, brushing Jake’s shoulder as you pass. 

“Guess you’re not the only one with secrets, are you?”

You cut your eyes to Josh, completely shocked at his audacity to speak about something that didn’t involve him so publicly. It seemed out of character for him and you can tell by the way everyone is reacting to his outburst. 

You barely make it through the back door as the tears start to fall against your will. You feel so embarrassed. Everything has gotten so out of hand and now Josh hates you and you know Jake isn’t too far behind him. 

You just need to go back to your hotel room. Go back and be alone and cry in peace. You pull your phone from your purse and find the address for the hotel, and much to your displeasure, you see that it is a brisk three mile walk. Not to mention it is 42 degrees. You lock your phone in frustration knowing you have to go back inside and wait for the van to take you all back. 

You sneak back inside and head straight for the bathroom, locking yourself in one of the stalls and sitting down on the toilet bowl. You know the van isn’t going to leave for at least another thirty minutes, if not more. You let the tears flow freely in the confines of the bathroom stall, until you physically can’t anymore. You dry up your cheeks with the sleeve of your shirt as a notification from Ruth pushes through. 

Ruth

11:43PM: You do it yet?

You decide to bite the bullet. Who even cares anymore at this point?

You open Instagram and tap on her request, hitting the little blue ‘accept’ button and watching as her page populates with photos. Right off the bat you see how pretty she is, every picture perfectly effortless and aesthetically pleasing. Then, you see Jake. Happy, smiling, and holding her. Recently.

You're surprised by the feelings swirling through you, as you’d convinced yourself that your feelings for him were much smaller than they apparently were. You look at every single photo, and with each swipe you feel your own guilt start to grow larger and larger. 

Had you ruined this?

You hear noise in the hallway and know that they are leaving, heading to the bar or wherever they decided. You wait until you hear them leave, letting yourself out of the stall and into the empty hallway. As you approach the green room you know you want to get in, finish cleaning up, and leave, avoiding as many people as humanly possible. You press your ear to the door to listen for voices, but you hear nothing and know that the coast is clear. 

Though, when you open the door, you are met with someone, and thankfully it’s a friendly face. You see Ty grabbing the canned drinks from the fridge and throwing them into a cooler. He spots you, looking relieved and stops what he’s doing. 

“There you are,” he sighs in relief. 

“Wha– What are you doing here, I thought everyone left?”

He walks towards you, taking you into a hug before you can even process what he’s doing. It’s as if he already knows how you’re feeling and you fall into it, letting him wrap you up in his arms. 

“I’ve been around long enough to know how shit tends to go down in this family. I knew that Josh was in one of his moods tonight and Sam pushed him over the edge. Unfortunately, you were on the receiving end of things. I don’t blame you for walking out, but I am glad you came back.”

“Why are you always looking out for me?” you ask, feeling like you might cry all over again. 

“Real recognizes real, baby,” he winks, releasing you from the hug and returning back to the cooler. 

“Ty,” you whine, knowing you don't deserve his kindness. 

“Look, I know I shouldn’t, because he needs to do this himself, but I am really sorry about Josh. I’m gonna make him apologize to you as soon as I see him, I swear.”

“No, no, no. It’s okay. He is right. This whole thing is a mess and he and Jake and shit, even Sam, have the right to be mad at me. I fucked up.”

He shrugs his shoulders, “It’s a little bit of a mess but, it will get cleaned up. And as for Sam, I don’t think Sam is mad at you, per say, but more of just the situation and how he learned of it. There’s been some other shit going on with him lately, but don’t you worry I’m on your team, here.”

“You don’t need to be on my team, Ty. You have dealt with enough of my shit,” you laugh, hoping he doesn’t actually take your advice. 

He closes the cooler up and takes one last look around the room, both of you finding it spotless. “Oh, just let me. This is my shit and I am used to corralling these rowdy motherfuckers, I do it in my sleep.”

You laugh and shake your head, “Alright, alright, fine.”

He nods in victory before turning to you again, “You’re coming to the bar, right?”

“No, I’m probably gonna go back to the hotel and cry some more.”

“Actually, you’re not. You’re gonna go back to the hotel, pretty yourself up and come meet me.” He flits his hand to his chest as he points to himself. “I’ll text you the address when I get there.”

“Ty I can’t! I can’t even face Jake right now! And Mia and Lyla… I don’t know…” you stammer. 

“No, hang out with me all night. You don’t even have to talk to those bitches, I don’t half the time.”

You laugh at his honesty, and realize maybe you could go tonight.

“I don’t know…”

“Listen, it will look a lot worse if you don’t go darling,” he says, tilting his head to the side. You know he’s right. 

“Alright, fuck it.”

—

TY POV

Involving yourself in other people’s business wasn’t always your forte. In fact, it was something you tried to stray far, far away from. The thought of adding unnecessary stress into your life seemed daunting and pointless, especially when the outcome ended up being opposite of the one you desired, but, nonetheless… You find yourself here, completely involved in whatever drama is transpiring between Jake and Y/N. 

It’s none of your business in the least. It never was. But you could tell from the get-go that if no one else was going to step in and try to help each of them realize what was happening in front of them, you would have to be the one to do it. Who better, honestly?

You told Jake from the beginning that Isla seemed shady… though at first the two of them seemed like the happiest of two human beings, just like all new relationships do. She was good for him, and he treated her well. The day he told you and Josh that he told her he loved her, you were happy for him. Happy for them both. Things were good and they were taking Jake’s career changes in stride together. That was until you started to see straight through that bitch. 

That’s right, you’re not uncomfortable saying it anymore. She turned into a true-blue, cold hearted bitch. 

What started off as snide little remarks to Jake, in public, grew into full-blown insults that had you left with your mouth hanging open in disbelief. He let it slide off his back, though, and you swore it was like no one else even noticed it. How her behavior had changed almost overnight. You could see the respect she once held for Jake morphing into resentment right before your eyes, but everyone else seemed to think it was normal. 

It didn’t take long, though, for Josh’s twin-sense to be set off when he felt Jake’s normally low-key temper burning into fury; he was quite literally like a pot that was going to boil over anytime. Josh realized, but you don’t think he ever really realized, though to you, it was plain as fucking day. 

You and Josh welcomed him into your home, let him crash on the couch or in the guest room after he’d run away from her. It almost started to drive you insane that everyone else was just watching on as he let her walk all over him, all in the name of what everyone thought was love.

No. Fuck that. She may have loved him, but your senses absolutely buzzed with the feeling that all she was there for anymore was his status and fame. It made you sick how she took advantage of his popularity and his talent, only wanting to go out with him if it meant she’d be seen attached to his arm, only wanting to support him when it meant she’d reap the benefits. Made you fucking sick. 

But, like a good brother in law, you kept your mouth shut for the most part, until one day things got so bad you realized that Jake had seen the light, fully disconnecting himself from her right before you all left for this tour. 

And the minute you realized he was taking interest in Y/N, you felt like your heart could explode with relief for him. Finally, a distraction. The day you let him know how you felt about Isla in the bar was the first time you really said anything at all to him, hoping that your words of honesty would help to further the situation. 

But now… Now. Fuck, it seems like things have gotten messier than you anticipated. Y/N is the first person you’ve met in a while who matches your energy, who connects with you without any effort to do so. You like her a lot, and you are fighting to be on her team. But damn, if it doesn’t seem like she just dug herself into a hole…

So after what the fuck ever just happened in the green room, you know it’s time to strap your boots on and fix things, or at least try to. You’re no stranger to mediating arguments within this family, so you feel no shame in waltzing into this bar with a new flame lit under you. You’ve gotta fix this. For Y/N, and for Jake. 

You blow warm air into your hands as you walk into the bar, finding everyone gathered around a large table together. Good, they haven’t ripped each others’ heads off yet.

You take an empty seat next to Josh, greeting him with a quipped ‘Hey’ as you’re still a little bit pissed at his behavior earlier. His hand lands on your thigh, but you quickly pull it away, knowing that if you’re going to be the middleman here, everyone has to be on a level playing field. 

“The hell is wrong with you?” Josh slurs into your ear. 

You shoot a look his way, letting him know that now is not the fucking time. A quick glance around at everyone tells you that they’re all already fairly intoxicated, still sneering at one another overtop of their half-empty glasses. Great. Perfect. 

You take notice that Murph isn’t here, which is a good thing right now. He might need to stay behind and let the others have it tonight. You cross your arms over your chest as you make yourself comfortable in your seat. You clear your throat dramatically, effectively getting the attention of the table.

“Alright motherfuckers, who wants to tell me exactly what just happened in the green room?” you demand, taking a second to look Sam and Josh in the eyes first. The entire table groans and waves you off, except Sam, who gives you a look that says ‘Can’t tell you right now, but I will explain later…” He then does a quick glance to Lyla. You take mental note of that. 

Of course, Josh speaks first. “There’s not much to say, Ty… I caught our runner making out with our head of security last week, I don’t know what else you want me to say…”

“I want you to tell the table why you are so pissed off about that, Josh. Why are you so concerned with something that isn’t your business?” you quip back.

Josh mirrors your stance, crossing his own arms as he motions to Jake. “Hm, I don’t know, why don’t you ask my fucking twin, huh?” Everyone then turns all their attention to Jake, putting him directly in the spotlight. Your stomach turns over with nerves as you feel the tension in the room thickening with every passing second. You don’t want to do things this way. But, you’ve learned from experience, getting it all out on the table is the best way for them to do things like this. 

Jake is standing, running his tongue across his teeth, his face already glimmering with a nervous sweat. “Okay, fuck it,” he sets his beer down on the table, yanking a free chair out from underneath it and harshly taking a seat. “Y/N and I have been hooking up since tour started. Pretty regularly. Thought things were good. But I guess it doesn’t fucking matter anymore since apparently I was dumb to the fact that she’s more into our beloved Murphy.” You can tell he is seething. 

You hear Mia and Lyla gasp like the news was brand new to them. “So it’s fucking true, then, huh Jacob?!” Lyla practically yells, leaning over the table at him. “Ohhh, we fucking knew it, you sorry ass bitch.”

“It’s actually none of your fucking business, Lyla, so why don’t you lay the fuck off,” he retaliates.

You watch Mia put her hand on Lyla’s chest as she leans across her toward Jake, her words spitting with venom to him. “Actually it is my fucking business, Jake, Isla is my best friend you absolute dick! And she’s your fucking girlfriend!”

Jake almost stands from his chair completely, leaning over to her now. “She’s not my girlfriend anymore, Lyla! She hasn’t been for a long time! She just won’t admit it to anyone or even herself! Don’t speak on things you have absolutely no fucking idea about, Lyla. It’s not a good fucking look.” Jake is visibly vibrating with rage. You feel Josh doing the same.

Next thing you know you hear Sam bellowing toward Jake. “Hey, don’t fucking speak to her like that, man, or I swear to god–”

“Oh, I’d be fucking careful, Sam, given I know all the dirty details about our little conversation in my room the other night…” Jake defends himself with a finger pointed directly to Sam. His jaw is clenched so tightly you think he might break his teeth. 

Sam gives Jake a death glare that you know all too well, as Lyla turns in her seat to face him. “What the fuck is he talking about, Samuel? Is that why you disappeared drunk off your ass the other night? To go to Jake’s room? What did you talk about?”

Sam closes his eyes as he tries to diffuse his rage. “What the fuck ever, I’m just pissed everyone knew about Y/N and Jake besides me,” he slurs. “Always failing to let me in on the fuckin’ secrets.” You roll your eyes at Sam, suddenly confused and intrigued about what kind of conversation he had with Jake, anyway. 

“This is why, Sam! Right here! Shit blows up!” Jake yells. 

Josh groans, leaning his elbows on the table to Jake. “Yeah, just like I fucking told you it would.”

Jake scoffs hard. “Don’t talk to me about shit blowing up when you didn’t tell me for a god damn week that she was fucking around with Murph behind my back, Josh!”

“Ohhhhhoho, don’t try and pull that, I told you this shit wasn’t going to work anyway,” Josh responds with a sneer. 

“Wasn’t going to work?!” Mia yells. “What do you mean, wasn’t going to fucking work?! You have a girlfriend Jacob, are you a fucking idiot?!”

You watch as Danny physically lets his face fall into his hands, shaking his curls side to side.

“Alright, alright, everybody calm the fuck down,” Josh says loudly, actually qualming a situation for once in his life. “Let’s take a break, let’s talk this out.”

You dart your head to the side to give him a sharp look. “No, Josh, you’re the one who opened your big mouth in the green room and set everybody off, let’s hash this shit out right now. Everyone’s doing an excellent job of letting it all fly. Let’s not stop now,” you argue, putting your foot down. You motion with your hand to everyone at the table. “Keep going, let’s go…”

You hear a wholehearted laugh come from Jake at Josh’s expense.

Sam looks at Lyla, raising his voice a little. “Is this why you’ve been so fucking irritable lately?”

Oop, shouldn’t have gone there, kid.

She shoots back in her chair, looking as if she’s ready to pounce on him. “Whoa, whoa, irritable? Excuse me? Actually ya know what, yeah, I guess it fucking is!” She yells. “You’d be fucking pissed too, wouldn’t you?!”

“I guess I don’t know, since nobody ever fucking tells me anything!” Sam retaliates with his hands in the air.

“Sam you have got to be fucking kidding me… Do you not remember me sleeping on your couch for days at a time? Do you think I just did that because I missed you? Be serious…” Jake says with a little sincerity in his tone. 

“I don’t know! Shit, I guess I just thought you were…”

“Thought I was what?! Bored? Lonely? Hated my own home? Well, I guess that last one kinda makes fucking sense, now, huh?” Jake goes on, running a hand over his mouth.

Lyla speaks up. “All those nights you spent at our house Jake… you know Isla cried herself to sleep each and every one. Talked to me on the phone until 3AM until she couldn’t cry anymore because you fucking left her, over and over again–”

Jake leans his elbows on the table, hiding his face behind his folded hands. You can tell by the redness in his face that he is holding himself back from absolutely laying into Lyla. 

“Oh, you don’t even want to start with me, Lyla…” he grits his teeth, the vein in his head pulsing with rage again. 

“Chill out, Jake…” you hear Josh warn under his breath. 

“Do you know why I left, Lyla? Over and over again?!” His tone calms. “Yeah, I bet you don’t because all you care about is her fucking side of the story… did it not occur to you that I have one, too? What about my fucking feelings, huh? How do you know she’s not purposefully making me out to look like the bad guy? I bet nothing was her fault, was it? Hm?” He asks, looking around the table. Everyone stays silent, avoiding his glare. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. No one bothered to come and ask me what was wrong, hear my side of the story. Fucking figures, she always gets what she fucking wants, anyway,” he goes on, suddenly able to breathe through his words. “None of you cared to realize I’ve been fucking miserable for months? Tried ending things for months? I bet not, huh. You only got lies and a sob story from Isla.” He takes a deep breath. Keep going Jake…

“So yeah, I tried to end things with Isla. Multiple times. Now I know I have royally fucked up with making my life messier than it needs to be–”

“She still fucking lives with you, Jake–” Lyla cuts. 

“Yeah, I fucking know that, genius,” he eyes her sideways. “You think this has been easy for either of us? I asked her to move out way before we started packing for this fucking tour… So yes. I did start hooking up with someone else. And you know what? I don’t regret a goddamn second of it. I finally found something that makes me fucking happy, and not miserable every single second of my life. And if you want to know why I think my actions are justified, you can speak to me directly about it. I’m a grown fucking adult, and I don’t owe you a goddamn thing if you don’t even have the decency to speak to me about my own fucking business…” Jake cuts his eyes directly to Mia and Lyla, making them sink back in their seats a little. 

Fuck yes, Jacob. Fuck. Yes. 

Just then, like a sitcom hitting its dramatic peak, Murph enters the bar, leaving everyone gathered around the table even more speechless than they were before. You feel a collective breath be taken by everyone before Jake shoots up from his seat. “Another round?”

Hell yes. Success. 

Well, kind of. Progress. 

You look at your phone, seeing that Y/N had texted you a ‘?’ about fifteen minutes ago. 

“Perfect timing, Y/N is on her way here, too!” you announce, your voice full of pep. 

“You’re shitting me, right,” Josh murmurs under his breath to you. 

“Good, great. Grand. A big family reunion, huh?” Jake says sarcastically in his faux-accent. “I’m over the fucking moon.” Jake darts his eyes to Murph for a split second before making his way back to the bar. 

You take a second to hide your phone under the table, texting Y/N back.

You

12:32AM: Come. Sit with me. I’ll have a drink waiting for you. 

—

HER POV

Your palms are sweating with nervous energy, despite the freezing cold weather. You almost didn’t go. You talked yourself out of it three times before you ever left the room, but knowing that Ty was waiting for you was enough of a reason to go. He liked you, looked out for you and treated you like a friend even though he didn’t have to. You could suck it up for one night. 

As you push the door open you’re immediately met with warm air and the smell of stale beer. It’s loud in the small bar and terribly lit, making it hard to find the group. You see a hand wave you in its direction, and at the end of it, Ty. The table he is sitting at is fairly empty, most of the group dispersed throughout the bar, playing pool or darts. He pulls out the barstool next to him, sliding a drink in your direction. 

“You made it!” he smiles, watching you sit down next to him. 

“I did. What’s going on, I feel kinda weird about being here,” you admit. 

“Ahhh, don’t worry about it, everything is fine. Promise.” he says, taking a sip of his beer. “Everyone is pretty drunk now, and has already forgotten about earlier.”

You glance around the smoky bar and as you look behind you, your eyes meet with Josh’s, who is giving you the most apologetic eyes you’ve ever seen. You give him a curt smile, and turn back around, knowing that a conversation with him is low on your list of priorities at the moment. 

You spend most of the next hour with Ty, laughing and discussing anything and everything that does not have to do with Greta Van Fleet. He’s a sweet guy and you can tell why Josh fell for him, with his ability to make everyone feel heard and wanted, so easily. 

You’re two drinks in when you feel a warm hand on your shoulder, pulling you from your conversation with Ty. You turn to look at the person, but you can smell that it’s Jake, his cologne at the forefront of your mind. You feel him lean down to your ear, his breath on your neck. 

“I’d still like to talk tonight,” he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. 

You take a deep breath and try to center yourself. You turn fully to look at him, seeing that he is not nearly as mad as he seemed earlier, and you know you want to hear what he has to say. You want to hear his side of the story you’ve pieced together over the last week. You nod at him as your eyes meet his, and he nods back, stepping away to return to the bar already going over what he will likely say later.

— 

An hour later you find yourself in your hotel room, pacing as you anxiously wait to hear from Jake. He left the bar before you did, deciding to ride back with Ty and Josh after the others left. You took a shower and tidied up your room and still, you haven't heard from him, that is, until your phone buzzed on the dresser. 

Jake

1:47AM: What is your room number?

Shit! Okay. 

You

1:48AM: 407

You know it won't be long until he is knocking on the door, and your heart is beating hard in your chest. You try to slow your breathing and calm your heart rate before he gets here, but you know it's no use because it will spike again as soon as you see him. 

The knock echoes through the room and you make your way to the door, swallowing back your nerves. As you open the door you find him standing there with one hand in his sweats pocket, and the other gripping a CD. 

You look at it as he presents it to you, a smug smile on his face as you realize what it is. 

‘An Awesome Wave’.

“This is–”

“The album we listened to on the plane, yeah,” he finishes, smiling as he steps into your room. “Found it in a record shop the other day in London. Thought of you and that first time we talked on the plane.”

You both step further into the room, your heart already twisting at his sweet gesture. He thought of you. You sit on the edge of the bed as you stare at the CD in your hands. 

“Listen, I’m sorry you had to find out about Murph like that, I never meant for that to come out like that,” you offer, letting your eyes flick up to meet his as he stands in front of you. 

“Look, I came here to apologize to you, Y/N. Not the other way around. You said I’m not the only one with secrets, and I guess that’s true, but I am more interested in setting the story straight and finding out what secrets you seem to be privy to.”

JAKE POV

She holds your gaze for just a second as she leans forward, grabbing her phone from the dresser behind you. She takes a shaky breath as her thumb dances across the screen, obviously looking for something. Your heart starts to beat faster and faster as she searches for what she’s looking for, a million different suspicions of what it could be flying through your mind. 

Finally she turns her phone, showing you a screenshot of when Isla requested to follow her on Instagram. You feel your eyes grow as you breathe out a surprised “Oh.” 

Fuckkkkkkk. She found her. 

“Yeah. This was a while ago. I accepted her request tonight after the show. I know everything, Jake. I know about you and her. I know you’ve been lying to me this entire time,” she says bravely, gritting her jaw as she speaks. 

“Let me stop you there, Y/N. Please…” you beg, preparing yourself to finally lay everything out on the line. The time had come. You take a deep breath as you readjust your seat. “Where do I even fucking begin?” you ask rhetorically. 

“If I were you, I’d start at the beginning,” she suggests firmly. 

“Alright, okay, yeah…” you agree, doing your best to find the courage. “Her name is Isla Whitman. And… Yes, she still lives in my home. Isla and I had been together for a long, long time. She was there when everything skyrocketed with the band, right when everything started to take off. She moved in with me, life was going good. She uh… things were great, obviously, as I’m sure you’ve seen from the photos…” you say, motioning to her phone. “We were really good for a long time, I was really happy…”

“But then uh, but then things started to go south. Like really, really badly.” You wipe a heavy hand across your face as you relive those terrible days again. “I started to realize that she wasn’t here for me anymore, that she was here for whatever status I held. Only here because of the success of the band and shit. Only wanted to be seen and be a part of things if it meant she would be photographed and noticed by our fans. It was weird shit, like the fame got to her, and she wasn’t the one even… anyways. She turned into a completely different person, almost overnight. Apparently, uh… it was a lot worse than I even realized, now that I’m kinda putting things into perspective, and Josh and Ty are agreeing with me. She used me. She used the hell out of me. Talked down to me all the time. Gaslit me. Made everything my fault. We got into terrible, horrible fights. All the time. I’m talking fights so bad that we both would throw things at the walls. There at the end, I started spending nights on Josh or Sam’s couch, I’d completely leave for days on end until she’d swindle me into coming back home, all for it to happen again. Over and over. It was…really fucking horrible, Y/N,” you recount, feeling a lump growing in your throat. 

“I uh, I tried to get her to move out multiple times, told her I was finished, I couldn’t do it anymore. Mentally, I was done months ago. Over it. Then the night before we left for Europe, we fought and cried until 4:00 in the morning, and our flight left at six. The only way I could get out the door was if I agreed to go on a “break”. Which I know now was a stupid fucking idea,” you go on. 

“My idea of a break was no contact, cut off completely, do our own things while she found another place to live, then when I got home, we could discuss things like rational adults and get things figured out maturely, but. Ever since we’ve been here, she’s done nothing but try to involve herself in my life even more so than she did when I was home,” you bite your cheeks in as your eyes glaze over, feeling that same gut sensation that keeps haunting you at the worst times. That guilt creeping back up again and again. 

“My intention was never to hurt you, or harm you in any way at all, Y/N. Please know that. I left Nashville thinking I was practically a free man, finally. Ready to relax and disconnect while we worked. And I never intended to find you. And I never intended to… fall for you…like I did,” you explain, looking up to her with cautious eyes. “You completely blindsided me. Made me feel emotions that I hadn’t felt in years, Y/N. I should have told you from the beginning. I know I should have. That is the one thing that I regret completely and totally. I should have been upfront with you about it all. But, I was scared of fucking it up, you know? Scared you knowing about her would push you away. And now… I guess it blew up in my face even more than I thought it would…backfired completely.” You shake your head as you exhale a deep breath, letting a silence fall between the two of you. 

“I understand, Jake,” she finally whispers. “I really do…”

“Really? You do?”

“Mhmm. I get how hard that must have been. Especially since you had no idea it was even happening for so long,” she explains. You nod your head in agreement. “Feels fucking stupid now, I should have picked up on it.” 

“But she still lives with you. Still thinks you’re hers…” she reiterates. 

“Yes. Well, I guess? She still calls constantly, still texts me incessantly–”

“Was that who was calling the night we… ya know…”

You face reddens at the memory of that first night you hooked up, when you couldn’t even fucking perform for her. You nod. “Yeah. Well, her and my techs. It was a whole thing.”

“God…” she says, standing from the bed and shaking her hands out by her sides. She starts pacing the room and running her hands through her hair. “I feel so stupid…”

“You feel stupid?! Y/N, I am the idiot, here, not you…” you argue, standing from the bed as well. “I’m the one that fucked everything up and probably lost you completely.”

She stops and rolls her eyes at you, tears poking from the corners of them. “I should have… I should have asked you if you had someone, Jake. I should have gotten to know you better…” she starts to cry. “That’s like, girl rule #1.”

“Noooo no no, please don’t cry, Y/N…” you rush to her, gently placing your hands on the undersides of her elbows as she crosses them protectively across her chest. 

She runs a hand under her eye as she wipes a falling tear away. She scoffs at herself.

“No, Y/N. That was my fault. We kinda just…happened, you know? Our lust got the best of us,” you laugh a little at the memory of sneaking her into the bathroom that night at the bar.

“My suspicions kinda drove me away, ya know? I knew something was up the night Sam came to your room, talking all that…” she says. “You hiding me in the fucking bathroom.”

“Yeah, yeah I figured as much. I should have told you right then and there, I’m so sorry,” you plead. 

“I’m not gonna lie, Jake, my trust is…”

“Probably fucking shattered, isn’t it?” you ask, feeling a bottomless feeling in your chest. Like the whole situation has no happy ending, because how could it? Everything is fucked. 

She shrugs, looking past you at nothing. “I don’t know.” She walks slowly and sits back on the bed. “And Mia and Lyla? They–”

“Lyla is Isla’s best friend, yes. So of course Mia is pulled into that, as well. And, of course they are praying on my downfall. They don’t know my side of the story,” you explain, suddenly realizing that at the same time, Y/N doesn’t know Isla’s side of this story. You hope that she takes your’s in stride. 

“Great, great. Cool,” she complains. “Now they hate me, too.”

“No, I’m not gonna let that happen. I told Lyla to come and speak with me directly if she wanted the full, true story. We’ll get that sorted out, don’t worry,” you explain. “No one hates you.”

“You aren’t mad at me for… with Murph?” she asks. 

Ah, fuck. 

“Shit, I mean… I’m not mad, I don’t guess. I’m… I guess I’m blindsided with that, too,” you know you can’t explain how you feel, because you truly haven’t had time to even process it yet. “I pushed you away, I get that. Fuck, we hardly spoke for a week. Of course you wanted nothing to do with me. Then Isla goes and adds you on social media…? I mean. Fuck, I get it. Murph is… a cool guy…” you have trouble admitting it. 

“It’s not that serious, Jake,” she says, almost a whimper. “He and I, we just… clicked.”

Her words almost cut you in half. You thought she clicked with you. 

“I get that,” you choke, as much as you hate to say it, you have hardly any dog left in this fight. “Listen, the bottom line is, I know I fucked up. Royally. I wouldn’t blame you if you never want to speak to me again. I don’t blame you for running away from me. But… I swear to god, Y/N, I would fight for you to the end of my days… You gave me something that I haven’t had in so long, I hardly remembered how it felt to be happy. You gave me excitement, and energy, and… you showed me that even though my life was absolute shit, it didn’t have to be that way. You showed me happiness, Y/N. I can’t ask for more than that. And if you ever give me another chance, I know I’d spend all my time repaying you for just that little bit of happiness you gave me, because it was one of the best times of my entire life.” You let out another shaky, huffed breath, fighting back tears, yourself.

Her eyes begin to well again, and you even work the tiniest smile from her. She licks her lips, rubbing them together. “Might take me some time, Jake. I don’t–”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight. I just don’t want you to hate me.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t hate you…”

She relaxes back against the fluffy pillows on her bed, her eyes obviously becoming heavy. 

“Can we agree to start fresh? As friends? Forget about all the stupid shit?” you extend your hand out for her to shake, praying that if she could just give you this….

She takes it gently, clicking her tongue. “My intuition is telling me not to, but. I don’t see anything wrong with starting fresh… Honesty. From here on out.” She shakes it with a little firmness at the conclusion of her sentence. 

“Good. Yes. Perfect, even. I promise,” you say with a little added sugar in your words. “Please just understand that my… relationship at home is anything but. She’s… so far gone from my mind I can’t even explain it to you. My number one priority is finding her somewhere else to live when we get home.”

She nods again. “That’s really none of my business, Jake.”

“Yes it is, Y/N. We’re friends now, remember?” you give her a sexy side smile, knowing that just having her in your life again would be enough, for now. “Thank you… for hearing me out.”

“Thank you for explaining. If only you’d have done that weeks ago…” she rolls her eyes playfully. 

“I know, I know, shit,” you taunt, rising from the bed again. As she walks you to the door, you find yourself fighting off the urge to pull her in, still sobbing a little from earlier. You want to feel her touch again, feel her body against yours and kiss away the saltiness of her tears. But you can’t do that anymore. 

When she opens the door and you approach the threshold, you turn back to her, letting your hand push a strand of fallen hair from her eye. “I still want you in my life, Y/N. You’re too good to let go, I don’t wanna let you go…You’ve still got me…” you say through a whisper, feeling boldness rising in your chest.

She smiles and leans her head into the touch of your hand, but she brushes it away quickly. “Go to bed, Jake.” 

You give her one last knowing look, holding her stare for just a second too long, hoping that one last ditch effort to keep you on her mind would be enough to truly start things fresh. 

Lord knows you’d do anything to get her back again.

—

HER POV

When morning comes it feels different. A weight has been lifted from your shoulders and the day doesn’t seem so daunting. You are glad that you and Jake finally talked things through, though you wish it would have happened weeks ago when you could have stopped all this from happening in the first place. 

You quickly dress and pack your suitcase, knowing that van call is approaching quickly and that everyone will be assembling down in the lobby before you know it. You feel happy with your appearance as you make your way to the elevator, pushing the button and waiting as it climbs to your floor. As the doors spring open, you see none other than Murph waiting inside with his suitcase. 

“Well good morning,” he smiles, motioning for you to join him inside. 

“Good morning,” you answer, rolling your suitcase in behind you.

“Did you have a good evening?” he asks, adjusting his hat. 

“It was alright,” you answer truthfully. “You excited to head to Manchester?” 

“Think I’m more excited for Glasgow if I’m honest with you,” he smirks, pressing the button to close the doors. 

“Can’t imagine why,” you wink, feeling the elevator start to move toward the lobby, singing the ‘Da da da da da’s’ of ‘Howlin’ For You’.

The doors spring open and you step out onto the cobblestone lobby floor, your suitcase bumping along behind you. As you turn the corner you see your group huddled up together talking quietly. They’re standing awkwardly, seeming more out of sorts than normal. It’s then you lay eyes on the auburn haired girl you studied in great detail just last night, as she stands hand in hand with Jake.

Isla. 

In a tizzy of nerves, you turn to talk to Murph, only to find that he has walked away to meet with Dean and his own group. You’re alone and you have to face this. You swallow back your nerve and decide that you will walk over to the group with your head held high, ready to meet the girl Jake swore up and down he was done with. 

As she stands beside him. 

Holding his fucking hand. 

“Y/N!” Paul shouts, grabbing your attention as he stands next to Ty. Everyone's heads turn to look at you, including Jake’s and you feel frozen in place. His face is solemn, with a hint of guilt hiding in his brown eyes. 

You step up to the small circle of people, pretending that nothing is wrong, smiling and greeting everyone with a bright and bubbly smile. If you’re going to do anything, you’re going to make your first impression on Isla one that she won’t soon forget. Your eyes flick over to Ty who is silently telling you that you will definitely be talking later. Josh’s eyes meet yours next, sad and defeated as he stands next to her, showing his obvious feelings towards the situation you've found yourselves in. 

Jake looks clearly burdened, like a lifeless shell standing there as his face is vacant of any loving emotion whatsoever. His movements are aimless, his posture slouched. And for a split second, you actually feel sorry for him. 

Until you regain your clarity, opting to stay on the clueless side of this very obviously two-sided party. 

The lying fucking son of a bitch. 

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Lyla says cheerfully, “So glad we caught you, I just wanted to introduce you to someone. This is Isla, Jake’s girlfriend!”

Isla extends her hand to you, dropping Jake’s at his side. You can feel her laser sharp eyes digging through your skull, her glare almost enough to knock you over. Your eyes meet Jake’s, looking sad and withdrawn before you look back at Isla, and grasp her hand. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

She shakes your hand weakly before dropping hers to her side, falling into Jake’s shoulder to stake her claim. His face goes stark white. 

“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” she coos. “I have heard all about you.”

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[angsthology]

“oh, god, no...” — or an alt title: three people bonding over random things as alex makes a horrible decision

one of his worst ideas ever. he’s never doing it ever again.

a/n ckckckckcck i love u dino anon but i was a bit stumped on where this could go BUT i give u surprise to make it more fun i love love love alex my i wanna say pookie but i cant take that word seriously. also im guilty of oversharing roolore in these suposedly shorter chapters. and now that im realizing things this kinda suck lawl

THE KANGAROO(KIE) VS. THE WORLD

after a long day of media, roo was finally free to do whatever she pleased (that being going back to her hotel and pass out until whatever time her body wakes up). currently, she’s slipping on her backpack and taking her phone out, scrolling mindlessly on her contacts until she found the right name.

“where the hell are you?” she starts, holding her phone to her face. “alright. you wanna watch a movie ‘til we pass out?” she paused waiting for an answer as she walks out of the building, “‘kay, i’ll meet you out front.”

just as she clicked her phone off, she looked up to be met with a face that just… stood there with a smile—making her jump and scream in surprise, catching the attention of people around.

when she collected all her life (that had been scattered when she got spooked) she took notice of the source of her heart-attack. he smiled innocently still, as if he’s done nothing wrong.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!”

alex, the culprit in question didn’t falter (though he did flinch a little bit at her outburst), he saw this one coming and to be quite frank, he did this to himself.

“i deserved that.” he closed his eyes in acceptance of defeat. alas, he brushed it off, he moved to her side and slung a hand around her shoulder. she was about to shrug him off but decided against it. “how would you feel about helping me pick my next hair color?”

that piqued her interest, she finally looks up to come face-to-face with him again, though now a smile graced her face like a cheshire cat.

his face fell. he was starting to slowly regret his decision.

without another word, a large grin still etching her face, she fished her phone out of her pocket and started scrolling through something. when alex tried to take a peek, she immediately moved away to prevent him from doing so mumbling something along the lines of ‘corporate secrets’.

he made a face at her words. but when she finally showed him her screen, he felt as if the face he made before was a bit premature.

“what the hell is that?!” he exclaimed.

she moved her phone so she could see the picture for herself seeing not what she had opened before but rather a video instead, “oh, sorry, this was from my pitbull concert. he’s great, isn’t he?” she happily showed him the video again.

he gave her another face.

“right, uh, here.” she showed him the correct picture.

he paused. “…what is that supposed to be?”

looking at the picture again, she took a second to think about it then shrug, “neon green/yellow-ish, give or take.”

his mouth drops at her direction. “what do you mean?”

“what do you mean, ‘what do i mean’?” she takes a look at his shocked face then decided to continue, “i mean: neon green/yellow-ish!” pausing, thinking back her words, “give or take!” she pauses again and re-clarified much calmer, “okay, maybe a bit more faded and muted.”

he shook his head, non-verbally ending that part of the discussion.

“where are we even going to get that kind of color?”

she shrugs, “i know a guy.”

the two girls were now currently sitting on the couch, the doberman peacefully laying between them—her eyes too, like theirs, glued to the television playing jurassic park when suddenly a knock came, shifting all three of the girls’ attention towards it.

roo was about to get up to check who it was. being who she was, she had to be extra careful who to let into her living quarters.

“it’s me!” the other side announced.

she looked away from the door and blinked, her brows screwing together in thought until she realized who that voice belonged to.

“alex?” she tested the waters.

“yeah!”

she sighed, her eyes then looking expectantly at the dog that lied beside her, tilting her head as if she were the dog asking their owner for something.

the dog whimpers as if groaning at her request. alas, she jumped off the couch begrudgingly walking towards the door and jumping up to open it.

“he— huh?” alex stopped in his tracks when instead of seeing his friend right behind the door, she was way far sitting on the couch with her friend. she greeted him nonetheless then motioning her hand towards the dog that sat quaintly besides the door, smiling up at him happily.

“oh!” he raised his brows in surprise then bending down to pet the dog who happily accepted, “who’s this fella?” he asked in a high-pitched voice, his accent stronger than usual.

“that’s jet, she’s mine.” roo answered from the couch, jurassic park long forgotten. “what are you doing here?” she asked the brit.

alex then moved his attention away from the dog, his hand still petting her chin, “uhm—i need your help.”

“with what?” her voice slightly gurgling from taking a sip of her drink.

he then holds up the boxes of hair dye with a forced awkward smile.

she gave him a look, “what about your girlfriend?”

“busy today,” he shrugged.

“then do it tomorrow.” she counters.

“okay, fine, i’m bored and alone.” he confessed.

she wanted to help; she really did but—

she groaned loudly; head thrown back to rest on the back of the couch.

“would you believe me if i say my ass is glued and have already morphed into this couch?”

“i would, actually.”

suddenly, from far behind on the other side of the couch—her presence almost forgotten—nika made herself present, “i’ll help. my ass is getting tired of the couch and i’m pretty good with handling people’s hair; i actually spent a summer working in my mom’s salon once.”

roo the gasped, turning around to face her friend with her jaw slack in shock—sarcasm written all over her face—“you had a job? like an actual job? once upon a time?”

“oh shut the fuck up,” she waved off the racing driver and stood up from her seat on the couch over to the other. “now get up, let’s do this.”

about a half an hour into their attempt, nika and alex had set up a mini salon chair using one of the hotel’s dining table chairs with a layer of plastic sitting on the ground. the latter sat on a chair in the middle of the room with a cloth draped over the top of his body. if anyone were to come in through the front door right now, they would assume kidnapping with a side of chemical testing. nika herself had changed into one of her uglier shirts incase they would accidentally get some dye on it.

the alfa romeo driver, on the other hand, still sat where she was the entire time unmoving and un-helping, now having the large dog sat on her lap feeding treats off of her hand while the other scratches the dog between her ears.

“alright. i think that’s all of your hair.” the girl stepped back from her friend’s friend’s hair, admiring the work she’s done. “now we wait. —good luck al,” she said as she took off the plastic gloves that were now mostly green.

alex—whose chair was facing the door for some reason—gripped the chair with his two (clean) hands and moved it around along with himself so he can face the couch. “so…” he looked between his co-worker and her friend, “does she just… go everywhere with you?”

“yeah.” she answered shortly before continuing, “you guys have wags i have… this.”

he looked at nika again, “no offense to you, but—”

“it’s fine, have you met her?” she shrugged pointing at the little shit she unfortunately calls a friend.

he chuckled then continued, “what about daisy-mae? i thought she was your best friend?”

“she is. this one’s just fit baggage claim. plus—daisy’s a serious scholar she’s still very busy getting her degree.”

from the kitchen sink, nika scoffed, “yeah, while she’s stuck with me around the world, mae’s stuck with atticus in college.”

alex the jumped into the conversation at the familiar name, “oh! the drummer, right?”

“yes.”

“oh—hey,” nika turned around from the sink and walked to the closest counter to the two friends, “there’s still quite some left, who wants it?”

as if sensing an idea in the air, jet jumps off roo’s lap and ran into another room.

said girl sighs, “man, knew jet was too smart for trips like this. should’ve known i should’ve brought bennie instead.”

as if the dog heard her, a bark came from the other room.

“whatever. i guess that’s one option out the window,” she turns to nika over the counter, “do me!” she smiles happily.

“alright. your death wish.”

alex, who was momentarily smiling, dropped his previous expression, “wait what—”

te1enoviyuhs

liked by daisymaerose, selvnika, and 836,735 others

tagged: selvnika and lilymhe

te1enoviyuh some notes from yours truly:

lilymhe why did u have to dump babysitting duties

and gooddyeyoung thank u for the hair dye i love hayley williams 🥰

and uh i guess awstenknight thanks for the hookup and free dye

and to everyone else!!!! hey. dump acc just dropped

see all 836 comments.

backbiteroo WHO LET YOU DO THIS

te1enoviyuh backbiteroo myself. i am a grown woman.

selvnika the nika salon is now open for business 🥰

te1enoviyuh selvnika i hope you bankrupt and close

selvnika te1enoviyuh kiss yourself.

norrislftv selvnika ??????

norrislftv OH

alex_albon why was i not tagged 😕 i thought we were twins now

te1enoviyuh alex_albon hm. sure. u wish

daisymaerose hi jet

liked by te1enoviyuh

gaslytv what does... alex mean... when he said... twins...

schupastry this is so random but so cute

awstenknight youre welcome grinch

te1enoviyuh awstenknight 🖕

lilymhe 😬😬 i apologize for having a job

te1enoviyuh lilymhe don’t apologize for that. apologize for not taking ur kid to work.

lilymhe te1enoviyuh that i won’t apologize for.

50kidgaroos BABE WAKE UP NEW DUMP ACCOUNT JUST DROPPED

taglist; @treehouse-mouse @disneyprincemuke @yansbolobao @leilanixx @judespoision @vellicora @bborra

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Orange Blossoms

Pairing: Buck x Reader

Word count: 5.2

Notes: WOW I can’t believe I have like nothing to say for notes like usually I can’t shut up here okay. Anyway I’m working on that other secret series that I’m really not sure I’m even gonna publish but I kinda want to move to marvel again who KNOWS

Chapter 2: Backpack, Backpack

Buck changes his screensaver immediately.

 Back to just a photo of all of them, because if Bobby sees that he’d probably skin him alive. He’d already all but threatened him to stay away from you. In a sweet, loving, dad-type way. 

“You go anywhere near her and I kill you” 

Okay, maybe he did threaten him. 

But it was probably just a joke, Buck would be the perfect son-in-law!

“It wasn’t a joke” 

How does Eddie always know what he’s thinking? 

“Does this mean I really have to stay away from her… because I can’t do that Eddie? I’m in love” 

They’re standing together holding a hose, it’s a pretty routine fire thank god it hasn’t gotten too big. Eddie moves over to the side and Buck follows him 

“First of all, you’re not in love, you’re infatuated. You’re not a Disney princess Buck, as much as you’d like to believe you are. It takes time to fall in love.” 

“It takes time to fall in love” Buck mocks him in a high-pitched voice, Eddie snickers knowing he’s absolutely right 

“What’s your second point, jerk.”

“Second of all, she’s Bobby’s niece. And he said to stay away from her” 

“Okay, but she's Athena’s niece!!”

“They’re married? And she calls him Uncle Bobby. Are you really getting all technical on my ass!” 

“I am giving the future Mrs. Y/N Buckley all the respect she deserves!” 

Eddie stops fully, turning to look at his delusional best friend. He doesn’t usually give em his last name. He must really be down bad for you 

“We really… need to talk about how you plan your entire life with someone after knowing them for all of six seconds” 

Buck gives him an incredulous look, like Eddie had never done that before. He kicks at him to turn back around. 

“I can hear the bells” Buck sings “well, do n'tcha hear em chime? Can't you feel my heartbeat keeping perfect time?” 

Eddie’s head falls back as he bursts out laughing, he nearly drops the hose as Buck sings the entire damn song in a silly voice, dramatically acting it out. 

He’s humming it all the way back to the station, he gets weird looks from everyone but he’s in too good of a mood to care. They tease him and try to get a rise out of him but he just shakes his head 

“Nothing you say will ever dampen my spirits, you're all just haters!” He sticks his tongue out at them 

“You’re usually this happy when you’ve got a date… so who is she?”Chim asks from the front seat and Buck stalls a little 

“Uh- no! No, it’s not a date it’s just… uh”

“Buck is talking to my cousin Alicia!” Eddie shrugs, as nonchalantly as possible “Yeah Alicia, he was Insta-stalking her so I just you know told him to…go for it”

“Long distance? That doesn’t sound like you” Bobby narrows his eyes and Buck looks at Eddie frantically 

“She’s coming here! Soon! To visit!” 

“Oh, that’ll be nice!” Bobby seems happy about that and Eddie immediately gets on his phone…he needs to send a text. 

Buck hears the rumble of your engine before he sees you and he’s already sneaking out to come greet you. Eddie notices him being shady and not finishing restocking the engine, so he follows him. 

Buck looks like he’s in dreamland, he watches you park your bike and take off your helmet, shaking out your long pink hair. The sun is shining just for you today he’s sure, the rays illuminating your glowing skin. And boy are you showing quite a bit of it. Your shorts are so tiny Buck isn’t even sure you’re wearing any underneath the sweatshirt you use for riding. You pull that off too and lay it across your seat. His eyes are glued to the orange cropped tank top and how cute it looks with your light blue shorts. He wonders if it’s difficult to drive with all your shoes, the white platform sneakers give you a little extra height but he still towers over you and that’s the way he likes it. 

“Hey, wifey,” Buck says sweetly, his voice soft and breathy. Eddie’s mouth drops open as he walks up to you both and Buck snaps out of it, his eyes wide as saucers as he puts his hands up

“No, god, no I mean… uh… hey wiffle ball??” 

“What” Eddie says under his breath, looking at Buck like he’s crazy. You bite your lip and shake your head trying to control your giggles as the boys lead you inside the station 

“Hey, volleyball?” 

“That’s… that’s not even the same category,” Eddie says, his face scrunched up as he puts his hands in his pockets 

“And you can do better?” You sass him, your hands on your hips. 

“Uh yeah. Pickle ball? Cricket? Dare I say, baseball?” 

“Wait, why cricket?” Buck asks 

“Because there’s a ball and a bat are you guys actually criticizing my thinking skills” 

“I’m just saying it’s kinda out there” You poke at him 

“Yeah, what are we? British?” Buck scoffs and you giggle when Eddie kicks your shoe and flicks Bucks's arm in pure annoyance 

“Why are you even here?” He says through gritted teeth playfully and you laugh, side-bumping him.

“Athena asked me to deliver some paperwork Bobby forgot to fill out” 

“Oh doesn’t she usually do that?” Buck tilts his head and wow he looks cute when he does that. You blush a little and look at your shoes for a second 

“Yeah, but she said I might have more fun” 

“Uh I walked in on them last time” Eddie gags “I don’t think you’ll have more fun”

“I mean she could, I know a great closet” 

Buck just says it, it’s a good joke, a great joke. Your mouth falls open and Eddie slaps his hand over his mouth gleefully 

“Oh my god” 

Buck looks confused for a second “Wha…” His eyes widen and he puts his hands out “Wait no! No, I was kidding! Well, I mean if you-“ He smirks, running his hand through his hair 

“Buck!” Eddie shouts 

You’re all out laughing now as Buck turns a wonderful shade of red 

“I just- I mean it’s not off limits you know it- guys shut up!!! It was a joke!” 

“What was a joke?” Bobby comes over, confused as to why you’re here and why Buck is trying to find the nearest ax 

“Pickleball” Eddie blurts out and you nearly keel over, wheezing. His excuses were not his best today. 

“We uh we gotta go” Eddie grabs Buck, who is holding his head in his hands whining loudly, and drags him away 

“Bye Y/N! See you later!”

Bobby watches them run away, his eyebrow raised 

“You’re not talking to either of them are you?” He asks and you roll your eyes and wipe at the little tears 

“No… we’re just friends Bobby. And they’re nice! I like hanging out with them”

“You’ve gone out with them?” He crosses his arms over his chest and you blush lightly 

“Uh… yeah? J- just to hang out and get to know them. I don’t have any friends in L.A Bobby you know that”

“You have May! She’s a great girl! She can introduce you to all of her friends”

“Bobby, we barely know each other anymore. We haven’t done anything together since we were literal children. And you know, whilst she has offered to take me out next weekend and introduce me to her friends, she and I have already decided that I’m not sticking around that friend group unless it’s an occasional hangout. Those are her friends and her life. So until she and I get closer…neither of us are letting you and Athena force us together.”

Bobby looks at you, struggling for words. He puts his hands on his hips sassily

“You know. You two don’t have to make that much sense. Just- I love Buck and Eddie don’t get me wrong. They’re my kids! But promise me you’ll be careful. Because if someone asked me who I would let my kid date from the team I would absolutely say none of these people” 

You giggle and hand him the papers from Athena, standing on your toes you kiss his cheek and wave goodbye 

“I promise I’ll be careful! We’re all just friends!” 

You walk back outside, a little skip in your step as you walk up to your bike. Buck and Eddie are standing next to it 

“You wanna sit on it?” You call you and Buck fist pumps, eagerly climbing on 

“I was hoping you’d say that!” 

You strut over and stand in front of them as Buck leans forward, pretending to be driving. He makes little car noises and you laugh, your hands behind your back 

“Having fun?” You muse and he sits up 

“Uh- yes. What kind of question is that” he scoffs and you roll your eyes 

“You wanna take her for a spin?” You ask coyly and Buck’s mouth drops open 

“Wait seriously? You’d let me?” 

“Of course, I would! I trust you” 

He starts it up, groaning as it purrs for him. He pats the handlebars and you hand him your helmet 

“Hey,, Buck?” Eddie pokes at his shoulder and he looks up

“Yes, bestie”

“We’re literally in the middle of a shift” 

“I’m sorry I can’t understand your accent. It’s too Texasy” 

“I literally don’t-“

“Buck! Get off that thing! You’re at work” Bobby yells at him from the bay doors and he groans loudly, getting off and handing you back your helmet. You take it from him, giggling and shaking your head 

“Maybe some other time… like this weekend or something! Afterwards, we go bowling with Eddie!” 

Eddie looks between the two of you “We’re going bowling?” 

Bucks behind you, signaling him frantically to say no.

“Yeah! Didn’t Buck ask you?” 

Buck clasps his hands together silently begging Eddie

“Ohhh… uh.. yeah! Yeah, I just totally forgot. Um yeah, I can go bowling this weekend!” 

Buck's mouth drops open and he mimes choking Eddie, you spin around and his hands drop to his sides as he smiles at you sweetly 

“Okay cool!! Well, I’ll see you guys this weekend!” You hop on your bike and Buck helps you put your helmet on. He shyly leans in and kisses the top of it 

“Uh- drive safe! Text me when you know you get wherever you’re going. If you want to that is I mean you don’t have to… you’ll probably text like Athena or Bobby or something yeah yeah you don’t have to text me it’s cool”

He steps back from the bike and you shake your head and he knows you’re laughing at him again. You make a little heart with your hands and wave goodbye to them before driving off.

Buck watches you drive off, your sweatshirt fluttering in the wind. He watches until he can’t see you anymore with his hands in his pockets he turns to Eddie 

“I’ll give you a five-second head start”

“Buck. That’s childish can you just-“

“Five”

“Buck, let me explain! When have I never not had a plan come on!”

“Four”

“Buck you can’t be alone with her yet you-“

“Three-two-one!” He shouts and dives for Eddie. Eddie screams and runs towards the station with Buck hot on his heels. He runs around the truck and dodges Hen with a spin 

“That’s cheating and you know it!!”

“Cheating my ass!”

“What on god's green earth are the two of you doing?!” Bobby calls down from the balcony 

“Nothing!” They yell in unison as they run around the station. 

“That doesn’t look like nothing”

“It’s a new training exercise! Just working on stamina!” Eddie yells back, yelping when he feels Buck’s hand brush his belt 

“That the lamest excuse you’ve ever come up with” Hen mumbles as they run past her again 

“Don’t be a snitch” Buck pants and she puts her hands in the air, staying out of their mess

Eventually, Buck corners him, and they’re in the sleeping quarters 

“I’m-“ Buck's hands are on his knees “I’m gonna kick your ass-“ He wheezes “when I can breathe again”

Eddie slumps down in the corner, letting his head fall against the cool wall

“Not if we die first” He pants heavily, running his hands through his hair 

Okay, maybe Buck didn’t think this thing through how is he supposed to kill Eddie if he passes out from lack of oxygen? They take a good six or so minutes to breathe normally again 

“I said yes so that way she could say she was going with both of us not just one of us and then I’d cancel or show up and just say my arm or like back or whatever was hurting so I could just sit back and keep score.”

Buck is laid out on the floor, he looks over at Eddie, his nose scrunched up 

“Wait, why didn’t you just say that?”

Buck has been staring at the picture you sent him for the last 20 minutes. You’re standing in the full-length mirror at Athena’s house, a little peace sign. You texted him as soon as you got home and after that picture boy does he wish he was better friends with May, he knows she’d “invite” him over. 

He knows it’s just… a little pervy, the way he stares at your thighs in the full-length mirror. He thinks that’s his favorite physical thing about you. Your full, plush thighs, especially in those mini skirts you just love to wear. And these shorts you’re wearing are absolutely no exception. They hug your body like they were tailored to fit you. Actually, he’s pretty sure they are tailored. 

He sighs dreamily hitting the favorites button

“Is that Y/N” 

He jumps so far out of his seat that he fumbles with his phone before slamming it awkwardly into the table 

“Did you just break your phone?!” Hen stares at him 

“I sure as hell hope not! What uh what can I do for you? Need somethin? A smoothie? You want a smoothie I’m gonna make you a smoothie” he runs over to the fridge and starts pulling things out. Hen picks up his phone, looking it over, and thank god it’s not cracked. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” She says, taking his seat and holding out his phone to him. 

“Uh, what question?” He turns on the blender, miming that he can’t hear and Hen crosses her arms over her chest, giving him a look. He smiles sheepishly once it shuts off and pours her smoothie 

“Y-yeah that was her.” He unlocks his phone and hands it over with the smoothie 

“Damn”

“I know!!” Buck squeals he’d joked about proudly showing you off to his coworkers and now he’s actually doing it. 

“She’s a nice girl… Cap knows you’re texting her?” 

“No and neither do you” Buck goes over to his “secret cabinet” pulls out one of his good mini chocolate bars and hands it to Hen. She takes it from him, opens it up, and takes a bite out. She groans softly and her eyes roll back. He always keeps those fully locked up 

“Right?”

“Right.” Hen gives him a double thumbs up and grabs her smoothie

After making sure Hen is gonna stay quiet Buck goes downstairs, there’s literally nothing to do, he’s checked off his entire list and even did the end of Eddie’s. If he’s this bored… Hopefully, someone else is.

“Hello?” You answer on the third ring and he gulps and then clears his throat 

“Uh hey! Hey Y/N it’s me, Buck” 

“I know” you giggle “What’s up?” 

“Oh…nothin just wanted to see if you were busy or anything…kinda boring around here”

“Did you call me just to talk?” You ask and his cheeks flush. Because yeah but like that sounds lame he could have just texted you. 

“…Maybe?” His voice is hesitant and cracks a little. Oh my god why was that happening so freaking much 

“That’s really cute” You laugh and he hears you rustling around for a minute. “Athena is sending me back out on an errand run with May… but we can text! If you wanted” 

“Yeah no! No texting is fine! I should have probably asked if you were busy first… I’m yeah no I’m sorry we can text”

“No it’s okay, I…like hearing your voice” You mutter shyly and he can hear May snickering in the background. His cheeks flush and he bites his lip 

“You do?” 

“Y-yeah I do” 

“Well good… I like hearing yours too, like, a lot” He admits, his heart is pounding in his chest 

“I have to go but, call me back tonight okay? Like…around midnight? When um-“

“When Bobby is asleep?” He says mischievously and it’s your turn to blush 

“Yeah… will you?” He can hear the hesitancy in your voice and it makes him weak, he just wants to kiss you breathless so badly. 

“It’s a date. I’ll talk to you later doll” 

“You better text me too, Bye Evan”

He hears May teasing you as you curse at her and hang up, he holds his phone to his chest, wilting into his seat and sighing sweetly. Midnight can’t come fast enough. 

The rest of the day drags and not just because he’s waiting to get off but because there’s literally nothing to do, which is the most surprising part. Really he supposes he should be glad nothing is happening, that means people are safe… besides 

It just gives him more time to talk to you. 

And boy does he, he starts slow with his memes, you have to kinda ease people into your insanity. But the second you send an Optimus Prime thirst trap on TikTok all decency and manners fly out the window and you’re both trying to send each other the worst things you’ve ever seen 

He’s falling faster and faster for you. Just call him Princess Buck. 

“What are you laughing at?” Eddie comes over, lifting Bucks legs up and plopping on the couch with him

“Um…nothin” he mumbles, distracted as he laughs into his fist at the Nick Fox thirst trap he’s sending you “don’t worry I’ve been sending them to you too”

“I already regret being your friend. Who else did you send them to?” He toys with Buck’s pant leg 

“Um… Y/N we’re just…talking” 

Eddie hears the click of a camera and he frowns, looking at Buck who shrugs and doesn’t look away from his phone 

“We’re also snapping” 

“Snapping? You sound like a teenager” He chuckles but puts his feet up on the coffee table and scrolls through his phone too 

“Teens use Instagram nowadays, old ass man. I asked for her snap just to see pictures of her, I just- god hold on” 

He pulls up the picture from earlier and hands his phone over. Eddie lets out a low whistle and Buck wriggles on the couch 

“God I know right! I don’t care if she suffocates me, I’d die happily” He says and Eddie laughs at him, his head falling back on the couch 

“Yeah. You know a closet” 

Buck groans and slaps his hands over his face 

“I can’t believe I said that to her” 

“She thought it was funny” 

“Okay but low-key? I wish she would have like said bet or something”

“I’m pretty sure you would have passed out” 

“Oh I know I would have and she could have given me mouth to mouth”

Eddie rolls his eyes, laughing at Buck again 

“You’ve got it bad my man” 

“Oh you have no damn idea” 

It’s around 10pm when a call comes in, and Buck is always too distracted by the voice message you sent him to get his stuff on. Eddie swipes the phone from his hands and glares at him, He blushes and gets his stuff on almost faster than he ever has and snatches it back, patting Eddie on the cheek before they load into the truck 

“Apparently a bonfire in a kids backyard got a bit out of hand, everyone be ready to possibly have to cut line but there should already be another team there doing it. Be advised the house is on fire but it’s small for now”

Athena is already there, with a few drunk people in her backseat. She’s talking to someone quite animatedly, her voice is low. 

“Everything oka- May??” Bobby stops, looking between them. Athena stands back, her hands on her hips

“Where’s Y/N?” He asks immediately and May sighs loudly 

“I don’t know. I’ve tried to say it a million times I don’t know! The fire broke out and we got separated!” 

“I’ve tried contacting her but she isn’t answering” Athena looks like she’s ready to rip her hair out. Bobby puts his hands on her shoulders, his voice is full of worry as he kisses her forehead 

“Hey, we’re gonna find her okay? I promise” 

“She’s here for a couple days and I’ve already lost her.”

“You didn’t lose her mom, I did. I should have kept a better eye on her! But she said she’d be okay! And Crystal wanted to show me something and-“ She starts up and Athena sighs, hugging her

“It’s not your fault baby, Y/N is an adult. You were both right, she can take care of herself”

Bobby walks over to Eddie and Buck who are hosing down a section of the yard 

“You two have Y/N’s number right? Can you call her real quick?”

“Uh, yeah sure.” Buck shrugs and pulls out his phone, it takes a second with all his stuff on. 

Bobby takes the hose from him and stands behind Eddie

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks, looking back at him and he shrugs 

“Yeah… just uh. Just call, Buck” 

It rings six times which is the longest its ever taken you to answer 

“Hello?” Your voice is so small it takes him aback. 

“Uh hey, hey Y/N”

Bobby perks up, motioning to keep her talking 

“Where- where are you? You sound funny” He walks away a little, so he can hear you better 

“I’m-” you hesitate and Bucks anxiety skyrockets

“I’m a firefighter Y/N, you can tell me anything” He says soothingly, his voice dropping an octave 

“I’m in the house”

“Where in the house” He turns to it and starts running, the fire is slowing down but not nearly enough. He mutes his phone for a second and alerts everyone on the radios 

“It’s- it’s so stupid”

He stops, smashing the unmute button

“Y/N, please. Fuck, the house is on fire. You do realize that right?!” 

“It’s what?! I-I’m locked in a closet in the basement. N-nothings happening down here!”

“Alright, I’m coming to get you okay? I’m coming, baby” 

He doesn’t even have time to cringe at himself as he runs into the house, Hen and another couple of guys are already shutting doors and putting some of the smaller fires out but it’s definitely staying consistent 

“Where’s the basement?!” He asks you, panting slightly as he frantically looks around

“The kitchen, there’s a doorway” 

He hangs up the phone and shoves it in his pocket

“Y/N??” He yells for you, panic seeping through his veins 

“Have you found her?” Bobby radios him “do you need help?”

“Buck??? Buck, I’m in here!!” You’re pounding on the door as hard as you can to get his attention 

“I’ve got her! I found her!” He calls into the radio as he runs over to the door 

“Y/N? Is there anywhere you can stand to the left or right, away from the door?” 

“I think so?!” You back up into the corner as far as you can, pressing yourself against the wall

“Alright! What now?”

Buck readies his ax, holding it in his hands

“Now I channel my inner Jack Torrance!” 

You shriek as the ax breaks through the door and he begins to create an opening for you. He breaks into the door easily…if he’s being honest he probably could have kicked it in… but this was more fun. 

“Don’t you dare” you say as soon as there’s a clear small hole

“When am I ever going to be able to say it with someone who would actually laugh about it in a completely unprofessional way!!” 

You groan and duck down more as a few wood chips fly

“…Fine!” 

Buck goes just a teeny bit crazy with the axe, most of the fire has been contained so he takes a little more time than necessary. He gleefully smashes the door down, laughing maniacally while screaming “Here’s Johnny!” 

You do laugh, because it’s stupid and it’s so Buck, and watching him enjoying himself is cute. As soon as the hole is big enough for you, you step through and he yanks you into his chest immediately, you let out a little squeak and hold onto him 

“What the hell were you doing in there? You could have died!” 

“I didn’t know! I tried calling May but she didn’t answer the phone and… and I didn’t want to call you and-“

“Wait, why didn’t you wanna call me??” Buck pushes you back a little just by your shoulders and you look down at your feet. He tilts your head up and that’s when he realizes your makeup is a bit ruined. He chalked it up to the heat…but you said there wasn’t any 

“Why didn’t you want to call me? Did something happen?” He asks a little calmer this time

“We should get out of here. The building could collapse” you quickly change the subject and try to pull away from him but he stops you. He bends down to your eye level and forces you to look him in the eyes 

“It’s structurally sound. Trust me. Y/N what happened.”  

You look down at your shoes, wringing your hands together and sighing 

“It’s… childish” 

“No it isn’t. Just tell me.” His voice is firm and he looks upset, you groan and let your head fall back before looking at him again 

“These girls asked me to go downstairs and get some extra buckets from the closet and then they pushed me in and locked the door. Apparently, I was chatting up one of their boyfriends, I didn’t know! I just- I saw his shoes and they were cool and then he told me they were custom from Etsy and I asked for the shop!! And he was so nice Buck, genuinely he was! He asked for my number just to send the link!” 

You unlock your phone and show it to him, the number isn’t even saved, just a link with a little smiley face and a “Demon Slayer shoes” and that’s it. 

“I…I tried calling May and she didn’t answer.. and I was locked in this stupid closet like I was a teenager again or something so I just…put my phone on silent and cried. And I didn’t want to call you because I would seem like such a baby. Like who still locks people in closets!” 

Buck listens to your story and he looks pissed. First of all, no one hurts his baby. Second of all… you could have died if you hadn’t picked up the phone when he called, and you almost didn’t. 

Buck does what any sensible man would do in this situation, he stands up tall, looks around for a moment 

And he kisses you. 

It’s sweet and lingering, he tilts your head up and presses his lips to yours gently. He watches the way your eyes close slowly and you kiss him back and he wishes he could just stay there forever but eventually you have to breathe and he makes you pull away, not him. 

“You want me to go find them?” He spins the ax in his hand and you snicker, shoving at his chest 

“Absolutely, let’s commit murder together!” 

“Sounds good to me sweetness” He winks and you roll your eyes, pulling away from him. He frowns a little at the loss of contact but shakes it off 

“We should probably get out of here, your family is going insane… May is really upset” 

He takes his helmet off and puts it on your head and you giggle while holding it down to tilt your head up 

“Yeah okay” 

He holds out his hand and you take it, he starts to lead you upstairs but you stop for a second, planting your feet 

“Whats wr-“

You let go of his hand and rush past him, going up a few steps and turning around to kiss him. It’s quicker this time, just a peck and he’s spiraling immediately, giggling deliriously as you jog up the stairs pulling him with you now 

The second you step out of the house, Athena is on you, frantically checking you over before crushing you in a hug, May is crying and promising she’ll never leave you alone again and you’re hugging her, trying to console her. Buck takes this time to step away and go find Eddie, you give him a little wave over May’s shoulder and he blushes, waving back. 

He nearly crashes into Eddie when he finally spots him, going running over. He’s standing in front of the truck securing the hoses 

“Eddie Eddie Eddie Eddie” His voice is high pitched and his hands are shaking. He grabs Eddie’s shoulders and starts shaking him

“Buck calm down!” He’s laughing as he pushes him back a bit, he hands him a bottle of water and Buck takes it , chugging it before tossing it into the trash 

“I can’t, oh my god I can’t, guess what?!” He squeals and Eddie snorts, shaking his head 

“What?”

“We kissed. We kissed, we kissed, we kissed!!!” He practically screams the last one and Eddie yanks him over to the other side of the truck shushing him 

“Okay- first of all, calm down. Because everyone is going to know who you kissed. What happened???”

Buck can hardly contain himself, he holds tightly onto Eddie’s arms just to keep himself from floating off into the clouds 

“Okay well she told me about these girls that bullied her and locked her in a closet. How freaking 90s teen movies is that!! And she didn’t want to call me because she thought that would make her seem like a baby but she’s not a baby Eddie she’s really not and she was starting to tear up and I couldn’t stand to see her cry so I just kissed her!!”

Buck is speaking at a million miles an hour and Eddie is nodding his head along just trying to follow his story 

“No she’s not a baby, but oh my god she could have died”

“That’s what I told her!!! And then guess what oh my god Eddie guess what”

“What?” Eddie chuckles a little at his enthusiasm, it’s endearing 

“I put my helmet on her to make her smile and it worked and I held her hand-“ His voice is becoming squeaky again “and then she let go of my hand and I was like-“ he gasps “what if I went too far??” 

“Because randomly kissing her wasn’t far but holding her hand was” Eddie says sarcastically 

“Exactly!!!” Buck points at him and he squints but goes along with it 

“She went up the stairs because you know she’s short as hell, and she kissed me again” 

Eddie’s mouth drops open and Buck literally starts jumping up and down, he does a little spin, dancing around before shaking Eddie 

“Yeah!!!!”

[pixelatedraindrops]

Happy 1st Anniversary RainCode!

☔️6🔎30👻

Thank you for bringing me so much joy 💜💕

(and thank you for giving me the gift that is yuma kokohead)

I didn’t think I’d make art for it at first, but I figured this game has done so much for me, so I’ll give back by drawing the duo that started it all 💜🩷 These two are such an iconic pair and I will draw them together as much as possible c: (tho Shinigami will be mostly in her ghost form if I do)

First time drawing human form Shinigami non-chibi, and I admit she was a little tricky with that outfit. But I think I did it decently enough… xD

little bonus for the kokogami enjoyers 💕

miss death god is too much woman for this little boy to handle~ 🤭

i know he's an adult but can you honestly look at him without context and say this is a man??? he's just an eemey meemey little guy.

Personal Rambling below (because I love this game so much)

WARNING MINI ESSAY INCOMING (lmao)

Oh RainCode... Where do I even begin...

RainCode is a game that has changed my life along with likely many other people’s lives. Although the premise of it is fairly straightforward, the characters and atmosphere make this game so much more. The successor to Danganropa is honestly its own unique story and structure, and tbh I think I love and enjoy it far more than Danganronpa. But this game…is just so much more for me.

I truly never expected this game to be such an impact on my life, let alone become my next fixation.

So, for history, I was honestly in no real hurry to get the game on its release date last year, so I got it a day later. On July 1st, I played the game for the first time. And I didn’t think much of it at first. The only thing that was on my mind when I started this game, was that I was positive I was going to be treating the protagonist like Makoto Naegi and Kyoko Kirigiri’s son the whole time.

This was the first post I made about RainCode back on twitter in 2023.

Yeah... Kinda silly when I look at it now... XD But I do still beleive this headcanon.

When I started the game my 2016 fixation of Danganronpa came back a bit. As a previous DR lover, I did make comparisons here and there to all of the characters. Yuma was very much like Naegi with his shy and timid demeanor at first due to having amnesia, and it felt like déjà vu when playing through the start of the game. But then it happened. The moment that solidified Yuma as my next and now permanent target. When he got sick/dizzy on the train... God that moment still lives rent free in my head. (I know the cause of it was different/related to the first mystery/case, but as someone who enjoys any sort of sick whump moment, regardless of if its little crumbs or a whole-ass meal it still counted for me) I was still shy and hid in the shadows with my silly little niche back then, but I told myself. Yep, once I finish this game, I’m writing a sickfic for this game and he’s the victim. (though what surprised me was that I wasn’t alone on that, 3 other people made sickfics with yuma before I did so that was a pleasant surprise xD)

As the game went on it shocked and impressed me in many different forms. I realized that this game isn’t the Danganronpa clone I thought it would be. Sure, it had a lot of similar elements and mirrored mini games like Hangman’s Gambit, Spot Selection, and of course the Conclusion Comic of the whole case, but the story the world and the mysteries were honestly different from the way DR structured them. And it pleased me when not many people from the main team had died. Most of the deaths were of side characters that had appeared in their respective chapters. Which honestly was a breath of fresh air for me, and I think that’s the real reason it’s separate from DR. It’s not as cruel and not as stressful. It’s a lot more chill, but the mysteries were still enough to get me excited and look forward to the next maze I would enter. The mystery labyrinths were probably my favorites elements of the game. They were just so much fun. And every single character was so likeable, (yes even some of the peacekeepers were fun aside of one or two that I absolutely despise. mostly yomi and guillame lol but I guess I kinda like yomi a bit more bc of the fandom)

And I grew to love Yuma EVEN more. He is honestly one of the best written protagonists I’ve seen in a long time. It’s hard to do timid protagonists right, but RainCode definitely nailed it with Yuma. He had his moments, but it wasn’t enough to be obnoxious. He also shined in more ways than one. And my god, so many relatable moments… (I have anxiety too xD) He was so charming and cute the whole time and even had his badass moments. This little guy is the whole package and I LOVE him for that. Truly a unique and fun main character that blows every DR protagonist out of the water.

(Yes, I said what I said.)

And the ending, GOOD LORD THE ENDING?? It was so well executed, and the ending twist villain was immediately my second favorite character after the protagonist. I could go on about how much I loved the ending but if I did, we’d be here all day and I don’t want to spoil the entire game…so… I’ll leave it at that.

When I finished the game, I was so satisfied. (Yes I love it more than DR, what are you gonna do about it?) It left me super happy and made me want to make some fan content for it. Though I was still very quiet on twitter and had a feeling since twitter is a more complicated platform, I couldn’t gush about the game too much due to fear of spoiling other people…and when one of your favorite characters is just the whole secret of the game’s core mystery, I couldn’t talk about it too much… >.>

So, then I did the unthinkable. I went back to tumblr… It’s a little embarrassing but this account is actually my old one I had from years ago. I was on tumblr more 2013 to 2017 before I abandoned the site when it no longer seemed fun and there were times that I’d rather forget... (let’s just say that I used to RP with my OCs and…one of my RP ex friends catfished me and it made me feel VERY uncomfortable. I wanted to forget it, so I ran away and never returned.) I was super nervous to come back and try to post again, so my first RC related post was about him being a naegiri child.

After that I began making more edits once I gained access to the sprites and full body arts. I made some Pokémon AU edits because those were always fun, and then I started making feverish edits of Yuma’s sprites. My first post ended up becoming a hit and I caught the attention of some people. They liked what I was doing so it gave me a bit of confidence to continue. I got even more attention, and it made my confidence go up even more.

And then I started trying to draw art again, something I gave up long ago. My first few arts were a little rocky at best, but so many people enjoyed it! One of my older arts ended up becoming pretty popular. Through this my few pieces of art, my many sprite edits, and my first fan fiction (Home Is Where The Heart Is) got me pretty well recognized in the Rain code community on here. So much so that I felt confident enough to give myself a title. The CEO of RainCode Whump or “Whumpcode” and all of this confidence made me decide to turn my blog into a fandom and sick whump blog. It became a full blown obsession that possessed my mind that I've become TOO passionate about. Never thought making these little guys suffer would bring me this much joy... XD

Over time, I’ve drawn more art and written more fics than I ever had for a fandom. Before I never ever made fandom art, and I would usually only write one sickfic per fixation. (my last ones being demon slayer and spy x family) But here I am, making more art pieces than I ever have before (hell even doing a MONTH ART CHALLENGE) and improving even! And having 7 fanfictions of RainCode, 6 with Yuma and one with Makoto. And those two became my prime targets and muses for my art. Drawing them is easier for me and they’re my favorites so it brings me such joy to draw them. I love MakoYuma so much. Maybe not so much romantically, but friendship and familial. They have such potential to be so much, and I adore them. Plus putting them in sicknarios and situations is fun (I think we can all agree on that haha)

I think I’m talking too much, so I will say one more thing. I never thought my fixation on this game would last this long. I was positive it would go away after just a few months at best. The game is great but nothing amazing to keep thinking about for too long for me. But I think the main reason I was able to keep my fixation on this game for almost a year (and ongoing) is because of the fandom. (specifically, the Tumblr fandom, but some people on twitter are cool too) I’m honestly so happy I returned to tumblr and was able to make a name for myself in this community. I have met so many talented artists and creators and even made some new friends (and even got a few apprentices to take under my wing) If it weren’t for everyone’s support, I don’t think I would have ever done this much and made it this far.

I’ve essentially made a platform for myself, and I didn’t think tumblr would be a place I’d check daily ever again. To think this silly little game…would change my life so much and make me happier than I’ve ever been in such a long time. I feel recognized and like I belong, I’m finally able to be loud and proud about my passions for sick whump and not worry too much about it, I’ve finally found my prime target and I have fun with him every time, I’ve gotten back into the arts of drawing and writing again and I think I’ve made some of my best work yet, and I’ve met so many wonderful people and even collaborated with them on some fun projects too! (Here's the most popular one and also the first one I did!)  It’s just been…so wonderful… I am so happy to be part of such a chill talented and fantastic community TwT So thank you everyone… this is all thanks to your support… <3

Sorry I’m getting a little mushy here aren’t I… x’D I just couldn’t be more grateful for this game if I tried… So, thank you so much Rain Code, for existing and doing so much for me and making me so happy… I have never had this much fun in a fixation before, and I never felt like I was ever truly part of any fandom and was always just a lurker. It feels so good to finally feel like part of a fandom you love, and also be well liked, admired and accepted by others despite your niche being a little on the odd side… XD

I really hope there will be a sequel for this game, and we’ll see all these wonderful characters again. After all I’ve been through with this title and how much joy and purpose it brought me, consider me a fan for life. I will be dedicated to every future title in this series and play the hell out of it. And I hope it gains a wider audience come October when it is released for more consoles. (Just hoping no weirdos take over and ruin it with stupid drama and horrible things like the DR fandom…)

Though once new fans come in and are also tumblr users…I wonder what they’d even think of me and my place and takes when it comes to this series… XD (hopefully they’ll be nice to me… XD)

Anyway, I’ve said enough.

Happy Anniversary RainCode!!

☔💜👻🔍

[dead-living-420]

404 - Title Not Found (part/chapter 3)

Part 1 - Tumblr Part 2 - Tumblr

Ao3

Summary: Jason was expecting the gala to be boring like always but is pleasantly surprised when it isn’t.

Danny meant it as a joke but Fenton luck always strikes. At least he gets an excuse to talk to the cute guy he gave quarters to.

AN: As always this is crack, this is a whole crack fic; and I play fast and loose with DC&DP cannon. Ignore any out of character writing(mainly Vlad and Bruce).

Kinda/slow Vlad redemption, kinda like a shitty uncle that you get along with sometimes.

Danny and Jason don’t know each other’s names for a bit so they refer to each other as:

Danny - Quarter Guy

Jason - Laundry Guy

Enjoy the crack! :)

Jason immediately knew that the other wasn’t from Gotham. No one just offered anything without an immediate confirmation that they would get something in return. At least that’s how it was in Crime Alley. He and the other held small talk while they were doing their laundry.

“You just offer quarters to people?” He said sarcastically only to have an actual answer in return. “Only the cute people.” The other said with a somewhat joking tone.

“Uh huh. What’s ya name? I didn’t catch it.” Jason wouldn’t directly admit but this guy had peaked his interest even more.

“Well, I didn’t throw.” The guy answered with a smile that felt sarcastic with just a bit of wanting chaos.

The topic changed to other things. He learned that quarter guy had moved to Crime Alley awhile back, he didn’t give a clear reason why; “Just thought it’d be a good change of pace.”

He also learned that Quarter Guy was going to some kind of event with his godfather; saying that even though he agreed to go, he could still complain. And god did he complain but nothing sounded too bad. “He’s just a fruitloop, I wouldn’t doubt him trying to use me to get secrets from the other people.”

Jason didn’t share any too personal information; besides it just out of sceret identity and such but it would also feel weird to. Jason did complain about how he was more or less forced into agreeing to go to the Wayne gala, only not sharing that it was a gala or that it was a Wayne event.

“Maybe we end up at the same event.” Quater guy, who still didn’t tell Jason his name, joked. His laundry had been done before his own. Quarter guy left with a smile that only made him want to figure out why he felt familiarly even more. Jason was more curious about this guy than before but decided to hold off on figuring out more about it.

—

It was just meant as a joke. Danny really did mean as a joke but just his fucking luck(or honestly he was expecting CW to be the cause in some way), he was now looking at the guy he gave quarters to a day or two pior. He was standing next to the snack table, avoiding Vlad so he didn’t have to worry about talking to other rich people he didn’t trust. The snacks didn’t look good in any sense of the word, why did he expect rich people to know what good snacks look and taste like.

He was thinking about texting Sam to complain, knowing that she would say I told you so but that when he noticed the guy from his apartment building was there. It took a second to recgionze him since he seemed more put together and dressed nicer, but it was him. Danny wouldn’t have questioned it too much if the guy wasn’t standing next to Bruce Wayne but he was. Danny didn’t need to know any more rich people but life(or probably CW) had other plans.

He noticed that the guy hadn’t seemed to see him yet. Danny moved away from the snack table, going opposite from Wayne and the laundry guy; mainly focusing on staying hidden but a voice called him. “Danỉ͔͖̜͌ẹ̿͋̒̕l̙͖̑̾ͣ!” It wasn’t loud, at least it wasn’t to humans. It had just enough of a hint of ghost speak to have Danny turn to look. Of course when he had his back turned, Vlad had to go and speak to Bruce Wayne. “Come over, I’ve hardly seen you since we’ve arrived.”

Danny held back a sigh and eye roll as he went over to Vlad and Wayne; which also meant laundry guy. He had felt Wayne’s eyes on him as he went over, laundry guy hadn’t seemed to notice or frankly care enough to look. He looked at Bruce. He knew of “Brucie” Wayne and had wondered if it was just a persona like when Vlad used to pretend to be niceish to his dad. He side eyed laundry guy, who didn’t look at him at all.

“You didn’t tell me you had a so-“ Bruce started with a hint of curiosity. Danny was quick to cut him off. “He didn’t because I’m not.” That’s what finally got laundry guy’s attention, he looked at Danny for a second and Danny already knew that he recognized him. “Daniel, that was rude.” Vlad looked at him before going back to Bruce. “I apologize for him but he is right. He’s my godson.” Vlad said, leaving it to Danny to introduce himself.

“Yes, I do apologize for cutting you off like that.” Danny started. He used the tone he would use with some of the ghost nobles. It was a bit forced but relatively kind. He’d hate to admit and never would out loud but he learned it from Vlad. “It’s alright, I understand how words hold meaning.” He noticed how it sounded more real than “Brucie” usually did.

He just nodded before continuing, “Okay. I’ll introduce myself before Vlad tries to.” Danny made his tone sound just a bit joking. He felt laundry guy’s full attention on him. He smiled, a little fake and a little smug. “I’m Danny Fenton and as Vlad said, I am his godson.”

There was some “good to meet you”s exchanged. Danny picked up on the fact that Bruce nudged Laundry Guy to introduce himself.

—

Jason didn’t like Vlad Masters at all. He was creepy, all around weird and untrustworthy. He had only seen him a few times before, spoke to him barely unless with Bruce but something was off now. There was a strange feeling of paranoia around Vlad that he couldn’t place. Even with all his training from the Bat.

He had been staying relatively close to Bruce, not wanting to deal with questions or the other people which Bruce seemed to respect. He had noticed that Bruce had been trying to be better or very least trying to understand his perspective. It was something, it was better than nothing.

Jason had held back a groan as soon as he saw Vlad approach him and (mainly) Bruce. He tuned out most of everything, just looking at the other people around them. It was like every other time Bruce was stopped by another billionaire. Just stand there, vaguely pay attention and look at the crowd of other people. That’s how it was going until he heard Vlad call out to someone else.

“Danỉ͔͖̜͌ẹ̿͋̒̕l̙͖̑̾ͣ!“ He heard Vald call out to someone else. it sounded off, not by a lot but still. He didn’t show a reaction outside of paying more attention. He noticed Bruce didn’t show any slight reaction which was expected. Jason still didn’t care enough to fully look up at whoever Vlad had called over until Bruce had started talking and was immediately cut off.

Jason had recognized the voice right off the bat. He looked up and saw Quarter Guy or as he introduced himself, Danny. It was obvious that the other recognized him as well but spoke as if he didn’t. He thought of when he talked to him while doing laundry and how he joked about them going to the same event. He heard formalities go around when felt Bruce nudge him. A signal to introduce himself.

He faced Danny, taking note of how he acted like they hadn’t met and he decided to go along with it. “Jason. Nice meeting ya.” He said with a similar smile that Bruice Wayne was known for but each bat kid had their own distinct version of it. “Nice to meet you as well.” Danny said with his own smile, he noticed that it was a mix between genuine and fake.

Jason noticed how different the other acted compared to when they talked a few days prior. He took note of how he was not as talkative or sarcastic and just had a small sense of fakeness about him. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to have a more or less fake personas at galas but he found it interesting how the other did a complete 180.

“So Danny, this your first gala?” Jason asked. A bit genuinely curious and also since he knew Bruce would ask him at some point. Danny looked at Vlad for a split second before answering. It seemed like silent communication. “No and yes. I’ve been to a few before but this is the first one I’ve been to in Gotham.” He had kept the smile as he explained. “Vlad has dragged me to some all over. Although I mainly attend the few that are held in my hometown.”

Yeah, he was definitely lying about something. It was easy to guess especially when Danny looked at Vlad before he had answered. He didn’t outwardly question it or look at Bruce to see if he noticed it too, of course he had; world’s greatest detective or whatever.

“Well we’re glad that you decided to attend tonight.” Bruce spoke, or well Brucie did. Some of the others had personas similar to the Brucie one but Jason didn’t. He didn’t feel like he needed one especially after coming back. “How about Jason and you go off and do your own thing while I speak business with Vlad?”

Jason looked at Bruce for a second, they both knew something was sketchy with Vlad and instead of including him in getting more info on him, Bruce was pushing him off to Danny. Not that he was complaining but still. He looked at Danny for his response.

—

Danny looked at Vlad, a bit surprised that Vlad wasn’t one to suggest that although he would’ve been suggesting it as a way to get information against competition. Vlad just gave a nod to him, Danny held back a sign knowing that Vlad would still use it as an opportunity for that. “Sure, why not? Still getting used to the city and all.”

And with that, he was led away by Jason. He could already hear Vlad scheming. At least he would be the only ghost he’d have to deal with. Hopefully, he didn’t want to jinx himself. He just let Jason drag him away from Bruce and Vald, not really caring where they went.

They finally stopped in a more quiet corner of the gala room. It was less bright with less people which Danny was grateful for. He had attended more ghost galas than human ones. So the loudness that came with human ones was still newish to him.

“So, I guess we really did end up at the same event.” Jason said with a smug grin. Hopefully just making it known that he said it as a joke would make it seem as a crazy coincidence and not too weird.

Danny gave him a sheepish smile, “I swear I meant it as a joke.”

[atlasofthestaars]

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .009

first part | previous part | next part

NOTE: I actually looked at my notes and went huh, I can compress the rest of the ideas into one chapter, so next chapter we’ll kinda be getting back on track with the plot!

This chapter we will be having a poll for Ashrah, and this is the last love interest poll! I’ll still do polls from time to time to have some sort of reader interactivity, but it won’t be as frequent (though next chapter DOES have a bit of a special poll though haha)

As usual, taking votes on Ashrah for a week, aka until the tumblr poll ends.

Also I never mentioned this but?? Sadly, Rain didn’t get in the love interest line up, but don’t fret! He will still be relevant to the plot in other ways :D Mileena, on the other hand, did get in! 

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO COOKS FOR OTHERS

It turns out, you enjoyed cooking far more than you realized.

“Here, I’m positive this is your favorite.”

Handing Kenshi the meal, you grinned at him, a small hint of smugness in your grin. You admired your own handiwork. You had taken the liberty to pack it in a bento box this time, to match the Japanese cuisine you had made for him.

“You’re very bold claiming that.” Kenshi commented, raising an eyebrow as he looked at you. Yet on his face was a small, amused smile. His gaze dropped to inspect the box, and a small hum left his lips as he nodded approvingly at the way it was packaged. “You even used a bento box, nice attention to detail.”

“I try.” You said playfully, laying a hand on your chest. “I’ll have you know I went out of my way to obtain one just for you.” 

“I’m honored.” Kenshi replied in a light, playful way that reflected yours. 

You watched with bated breath as he opened the bento box. With satisfaction, you watched as the expectant look on his face gave way to one of shock. You crossed your arms smugly, basking in the pride you felt at his reaction. 

“This…is actually my favorite.” Kenshi said in awe, eyes searching the bento box as he scanned all the items in front of him. His eyes glanced from you, back down to the food, back to you with surprise evident on his face. His eyebrows furrowed as he processed the situation in front of him. “How did you guess this so accurately?”

“Just because I’m not a god like Lord Liu Kang doesn’t mean I don’t have tricks of my own.” You said vaguely. It was best not to mention how you had a hazy memory of cooking this food for him in your past life. You watched as the swordsman’s eyebrows rose, but ultimately he did not question you. Still, you watched as he pursed his lips. 

“It was a lucky guess, wasn’t it?” He asked, and you let out a small chuckle.

“Nope, I just have really good intuition.” You replied, grinning at the man still. His eyes narrowed, seeming unsatisfied with your vague and ultimately illogical answer. He glanced down again, scanning the food, scrutinizing it again.

“That’s basically the same thing as luck, if you think about it.” He pointed out with a small huff. He challenged you with a long stare.

“No.” You quickly replied, a small pout on your lips now. “Luck is guessing something out of nothing.” You pointed out before gesturing to him. “I used intuition. That means I used what I knew about you to guess what your favorite food was.” You shrugged. “That’s the difference, see?”

“And you think I look like someone who enjoys this type of food?” Kenshi inquired, trying to see if he could get more information out of you. You could tell from the tone of his voice he was being playful still. You gestured to the bento box with a sly look on your face. You glanced down at it, before looking back up at him.

“Well, I made it for you, hm?” You replied, with a tone that screamed ‘isn’t it obvious?’ “And from what you told me, I got it absolutely correct.” You continued, crossing your arms as you saw him sigh.

“I guess you did.” He conceded as he nodded. Kenshi then smiled at you, something that you weren’t all too familiar with, but found charming nevertheless. “Thank you.” He said, before pausing. “This will be nice to eat. I haven’t had any Japanese food since I left the Yakuza.” 

“No problem.” You told him. Too absorbed in your glee, you put a hand on his shoulder and pat it. “If you ever want me to make you more, just let me know.” You told him, sending him a wink. “You’re the one who helped me improve my cooking so far.” You glanced at the sky. “Well, it’s time for me to go, let me know what you think of it next time.” 

You left, and Kenshi was left staring after you, watching you for a few moments. The peace and quiet lasted for a few mere moments before Johnny Cage came strolling in, looking between Kenshi and you who was walking off in the distance.

“You having a moment or something, tattoo?” Johnny asked as he glanced between you two again. He peered over Kenshi’s shoulder as he inspected the food. “Hah, teach gave you some food? Let me try.” He said, before reaching out to grab a piece of it. He let out a small ‘ow’ as his hand was quickly smacked away. 

“This isn’t yours, Cage.” Kenshi huffed, glaring at the actor. Johnny put his hands up in surrender, letting out a snicker at the protective look on the swordsman’s face. He then, before anyone else could try and get their hands on his food, grabbed a piece of the food and popped it into his mouth.

It tasted like home.

“Kung Lao is here.” 

Opening the door to the kitchen, Liu Kang peered in. The smell of wonderful, delicious food wafted his way. Even the god himself felt hungry from the scent of your cooking alone, and he even was able to resist Madam Bo’s food. There was clanging of pots and pans, and the hissing of food as it hit the hot pans. 

“Okay, give me a moment!” You called out, glancing over your shoulder. You turned off the heat, quickly dumping the finished food into a bowl on the side.You could continue your cooking endeavor later. You wiped off the sweat that had formed on your brow. You had been standing over the stove for a while now, slaving away at making a wonderful dinner to which you’d be serving later for the Lin Kuei trio.

“Alright, I’ll have him wait.” The fire god called out before he closed the door, letting you finish doing what you had been doing.

With a sigh you stepped back and leaned on the wall. The air even a few steps away from the stove felt refreshing. You stood, letting the air cool you off a bit more before you stepped out of the kitchen. You quickly made your way to your room, grabbing the package Liu Kang had given you a day ago before rushing off to the room where people usually waited when they sought out an audience with Liu Kang.

“Hi, sorry for the wait!” You greeted, still feeling a little sweaty as you briskly walked over to Kung Lao. You watched as he looked at you in surprise. You supposed it was because he had never seen you to the point of exertion like this. After all, you rarely broke a sweat during their training. He had a similar reaction when you had shown up to train them in bandages after your sparring with Bi-Han a while ago, so your assumption probably wasn’t too far off.

“It’s all fine.” Kung Lao said, waving off your apology. He rubbed his hands together in excitement as he got up. You noted his casual clothes, and it warmed your heart as it reminded you of the movie nights you all had every month or so. He approached you, and his glee was infectious as a smile nearly as bright as his appeared on your face.

“Okay, this should be the last prototype, but it’s pretty much the final product.” You told him, carefully opening the box. The result of the hat within the box was you and Kung Lao discussing how to better innovate and design a hat that suited him. Not only in terms of a weapon, but also as a fashion item since he consistently mentioned wanting to wear it everywhere.

“What’s the point of making it a hat if I can’t wear it everywhere?” The former farmhand had insisted to you many months ago, when he had pointed at the hat which had been much too heavy to wear comfortably. You had sighed but agreed. He did have a point. 

It also comforted you to know that some things never seemed to change, such as Kung Lao’s devotion to his hat.

Lifting the hat out of the box, Kung Lao held it with some reverence. His eyes sparkled with delight as he held it up. He first inspected it from all angles, marveling over the precise craftsmanship that went into creating the perfect weapon that happened to be a hat. 

You sent him a look as his finger traced the razor sharp edge. It was the same look you sent him to warn him to be careful everytime he did it. He rolled his eyes, but in a playful manner. You scoffed lightheartedly in return.

“You’re going to cut your finger on it one day, Kung Lao.” You warned lightly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“But I haven’t yet.” Kung Lao bragged cockily. He withdrew his finger from the bladed edge, cut free. He wiggled his fingers smugly to show that fact off. “See? I am already a professional around this thing.” He said with utmost confidence. You sighed and shook your head.

“If I ever hear word that you end up cutting your finger on the edge, I’ll never let you hear the end of it.” You promised as you smiled at him teasingly. You watched as his eyebrows raised before a sly grin appeared on his face. He leaned forward with a small chuckle.

“Hah! That won’t happen.” He scoffed, and you could tell that his ego was growing again. You rolled your eyes as you pushed him back lightly. Kung Lao let out a loud chuckle, amused by the banter that happened between you. This back and forth, it felt natural. For a moment, you looked at him and remembered simpler times with him and Liu Kang.

Your heart squeezed, a feeling you won’t ever be able to truly suppress no matter how many times it occurred.

“Oh really, want to put your money where your mouth is?” You propose, trying to ignore the way your heart yearned for a life you no longer had. You watched as Kung Lao’s grin grew wider. If there was one thing you had learned from training him, it was that the man from Fengjian loved to bet. It was something you caught your students doing often due to his influence.

“You’re finally making a bet with me?” Kung Lao asked, a tone of excitement in his voice. While it wasn’t often, you had a bet tossed your way here and there. You had turned them down previously, but now it was different now that you were the one proposing the bet. 

“That’s what I asked you, no?” You sassed him, raising your eyebrows. 

“Then I gladly accept a bet with you.” Kung Lao graciously accepted, tilting his head. “Just a shame that our first bet together will have a guaranteed loss on your end.” He added on. The pure confidence in your tone had you letting out a chuckle of disbelief.

“Calm down, we haven’t even set up the terms of our bet.” You reminded him, all too amused by his pride. Still, your words did not make the confident and smug look on his face waver at all. He truly believed in himself, a trait you somewhat admired.

“I’ll win either way.” Kung Lao quipped, which made you roll your eyes again. It was an action you found yourself doing often around the man, no matter how much he amused you. “How about this, you stop sending me that look you do everytime I do this…” The former farmhand traced his finger along the blade’s edge once more. Instinctively, you found yourself doing the look he was referring to. “For a week. And if I prove I don’t need that reminder to not cut my finger, then I win.”

“Do I get penalized if I accidentally send you the look?” 

“I’ll be generous and say no.” Kung Lao said, his smug look turning a tad bit more cheeky as he looked at you. “All I need to do is prove that I won’t cut my fingers on this hat.” He claimed, and you nodded, not finding anything wrong with the terms he had. “Loser has to do whatever the winner wants.” He declares.

You let out a hum, now thinking of the terms of winning the bet. You closed your eyes, recalling how prideful Kung Lao was. He would probably be his own downfall, honestly.

A small voice whispered in your head telling you he already did, reminding you of the visions of his untimely death in another life haunting you.

“Alright, I accept.” You hastily replied, trying to ignore the voice that sent chills down your back. You stuck your hand out to seal the deal. Almost instantly, he grabbed yours and shook it in a firm handshake. You smiled.

His hand was softer than you were expecting.

“I hope you’re prepared to lose.” He taunted, putting the hat back in the box with his free hand that held the hat. He seemed satisfied enough with the final product. You sighed and squeezed his hand as if challenging him.

“Don’t be so quick to think yourself victorious, Kung Lao.” You warned lightly before letting go of his hand. How his hand felt lingered in your mind a few more minutes before you saw his face turn a little sheepish as he looked down at your torso. You raised an eyebrow and looked down, completely forgetting the apron you had donned.

“Had I been interrupting something?” He inquired, an innocent tone to his voice. You let out a small laugh as you waved off his question. How unusual for him to have that tone of voice. You shook his head, and he nodded, now a curious look on his face.

“Don’t worry about it, you had just interrupted me making dinner. I’m inviting the three Lin Kuei men who had tested you. Don’t worry about being an interruption though, I was the one who asked you to drop by.” You told him, reassuring him that he had not been a bother at all.

“You…cook?” Kung Lao said, processing your words. You nodded slowly, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Yeah, Madam Bo taught me.” You watched as Kung Lao’s jaw dropped in surprise. You shrugged causally, looking at him. “Who do you think was giving Kenshi all that food?” You asked. You watched as he processed all of this, and gasped.

“You cook like Madam Bo, and didn’t give me any?” He inquired, the tone of his voice indicating you’ve committed a crime akin to a sin. You laughed at the absurdity of his reaction, he was more of a food lover than you had presumed. 

“I needed criticism to improve, Kung Lao.” You watched him pout at your excuse, probably thinking it wasn’t good enough. “I promise I’ll give you some food soon enough, okay?” You told him, placing a hand on your hip. You watched as he perked up.

“You’ll be doing that regardless, since I’m planning on making you make me a feast once I win our bet.” Kung Lao declared, and you sighed. You pat down your apron, trying to clean it before you went back into the kitchen.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when you lose, Kung Lao.” You remarked, grinning at him mischievously. You grabbed his shoulder, pushing him towards the entrance of the Fire Temple. “Now go back and rest, I have to go prepare dinner.” You told him, knowing he would delay longer to see if you could also make him a meal.

“Don’t forget your promise!” He called over his shoulder as he began to walk off, a boisterous laugh leaving his lips as he began to walk off. You nodded, reassuring him that you would as long as he stayed on your good side. You sighed as you looked up into the sky, trying to gauge how much time you had left before you had to serve the Lin Kuei brothers.

You had time.

Turning on your heel, you briskly walked back to the kitchen to work away once again.

“You were very prepared for tonight.”

“I know.” You replied, trying not to feel too smug as you led the trio of men into the dining room you had set up. It was much more fancy today than usual, seeing as you didn’t bother to try and decorate much when Liu Kang ate with you. 

All types of food were spread across the table, from entrees to side dishes. You also had desserts planned, but you had them stashed away to allow the main courses to shine. Impressively, all of it looked fresh, hot, and ready to eat. You watched the trio’s reactions, and how they varied. 

Kuai Liang seemed appreciative of the whole ordeal. A small, rare smile was spread across his lips. His eyes slowly scanned the foods you had on display, analyzing them carefully as if each were a precious art piece. Then, his eyes made their way towards yours and he nodded.

Tomas was very eager, his eyes wide and searching. They darted to and fro, as if he could not settle on what he wanted to eat first. His grin was bigger, and he leaned forward just slightly. You watched as he inhaled deeply, and let out a sigh of longing.

Bi-Han’s reaction was the most subtle. He, as usual, had his resting face on. Yet, at the same time, you could see how his eyes widened slightly, almost as if there were a gleam in his eyes. He also scanned the dishes, but once they landed on a dish you knew was his was favorite, he honed in on it. He glanced away and towards you, a small huff leaving his lips. And dare you say it, you could say the corners of his lips were upturned.

He was smiling. Maybe not the most obvious one, but it was one nevertheless.

Okay, maybe you could afford to let your ego grow a little bit. It’s not everyday you get some of the best Lin Kuei fawning over your cooking.

You made your way to your spot on the table. It was the same spot you always sat at whenever you ate with Liu Kang. You just had a sentimental attachment to it, though you would never admit it outloud. You watched as Bi-Han claimed the seat beside you, and Tomas was across from you. That left Kuai Liang sitting the farthest from you.

“Eat up!” You told them, before grabbing the foods you wanted and sliding them onto your plate. The air was filled with the clinks of dishes being moved around. Here and there there would be a request to pass a dish over.

“This is amazing!” Tomas piped up after a few minutes. On his face was one of the most delighted expressions you’ve ever seen on him. You grinned at him, a surge of pride running through you. You watched with joy as he almost greedily put more of your cooking on his plate. “I wish we had this type of cooking back at the temple.”

“I must agree.” Kuai Liang spoke, nodding. Though he was not as fast as Tomas in eating his meal, you were surprised to see that he had eaten it more quickly than you had expected. “This is delicious, I did not know you were this talented at cooking.” He commended.

Instinctively, you glanced over to Bi-Han. To your surprise, he was silently adding more onto his plate, having almost finished the initial amount he had put on. He looked up from his plate, glancing over to you. His eyes narrowed at your expectant gaze before he tore his eyes away.

“It’s good.” He began, and your jaw dropped a bit at the clear praise. “The Lin Kuei’s cooking standards should be brought up to match these.” Bi-Han continued, which greatly increased your ego. You looked away to preserve your pride by not grinning like a madman.

“Oh it’s nothing.” You said, trying to downplay how happy you felt at their compliments. “I owe it all to Madam Bo, honestly.” You told them, only to feel Bi-Han’s stare.

“Teachings can only get you so far.” Bi-Han pointed out, making your eyebrow raise. He looked away from you to take another bite of your cooking, leaving you to ponder over his words as he ate. “With skill like this, you are far more competent than what you make yourself out to be.”

“Bi-Han’s right.” Tomas spoke up, giving you an encouraging look. “You’re really good!” Kuai Liang nodded in agreement as he silently continued to eat their meal. With their compliments combined, you felt your face grow warm. You looked downwards, a bit shyly and continued to eat.

“You, Lord Liu Kang, and your students are going to Outworld for the tournament soon, correct?” Scorpion inquired, looking up at you. You nodded, taking another bite of your food. “Do you have any idea of who, out of all of your students, will be chosen to compete?”

“Hmm…” You hummed, pondering over the question as you chewed your food slowly. “I think any of them are capable of becoming champion.” You responded, shrugging. “They all show promise.” You let out another hum. “But if I had to choose, I think it would be between Kung Lao and Raiden.” 

“The two from the exam?” Bi-Han inquired, his eyebrows raising slightly. At your nod, he huffed. “I recall Kung Lao being presumptuous. I hope your teachings have burst his ego.” He mentioned, and you vaguely remember Bi-Han scoffing at him long ago.

“He’s gotten better.” You say, smiling as you reflect at the progress you have done with your students over the months you’ve been put in charge of them. “Kung Lao is still prideful though, but not too much.” You paused, letting out a small chuckle. “Most times, at least.” 

“Are you excited to go to Outworld?” Smoke asked. You nodded in response. The three were not aware of your potential connection with Outworld. Still, you had previously mentioned to them how you were eager for the chance to travel to another realm. They just simply didn’t know why or how eager you were. 

“I am. Lord Liu Kang tells me it’s a wonderful, breathtaking place.” You mentioned a small smile on your lips as you heard the small voice in your head that you might finally be able to unlock more memories. “If I find any interesting trinkets, I’ll be sure to bring them back for you guys.”

“You do not need to, but it would be appreciated.” Kuai Liang said, looking at you with eyes that glimmered with appreciation at the mere promise. “I would not want you to worry over gifts for us instead of enjoying the atmosphere.”

“Oh it’d be no issue, trust me.” You reassured him, your smile growing wider.

The rest of the night was filled with lighthearted banter, for the most part, and delicious food. It was nice, having the brothers all together. Still, a bubble of worry formed within you as you all ate. They were all playing nice now, but Kuai Liang’s words of concern echoed in your head.

Was Bi-Han really set on a self destructive path that would tear the brothers apart? 

The with closeness of the brothers right now, you didn’t want to believe it. Bi-Han may not show his love for his brothers clearly, but he still cared. Or at least, you thought so. Kuai Liang was not one to worry over such things so easily.

A fire of determination burned in your heart as you bid the trio goodnight. You watched as Bi-Han led them away, and a sigh left your lips. You stood on the bridge, soaking in the moonlight for a few moments more.

You would mend whatever rift was going to tear them apart, no matter what.

“What is all of this?”

Looking up from the little set up, you smiled at the perplexed expression on Raiden’s face. You had invited him out for one last training session before the champion exam. It was nearly a week before you all were going to go to Outworld. For all the months you’ve trained him, Raiden had been very diligent and grown much.

So instead of a training session, you decided you would reward him instead. Maybe it was a little bit biased, but the expression on his face alone right now made it all worth it.

“It’s a reward.” You said simply, standing up. You gestured to the picnic you’ve set up in the courtyard. It was nearly perfect. The stars, the moon, they were all so much prettier tonight. It was the perfect night sky for a late night picnic. “I thought instead of training you to the bone, we could celebrate tonight instead for your growth.”

“You didn’t have to do this.” Raiden said, his voice full of awe as he walked over. You sent him a look that told him not to be so humble, not now. He let out a small chuckle as he walked over. You sat down and so did he. He looked over to the spread you had lying out. “This all looks wonderful.” He marvels.

“I hope so. I made it all myself.” You bragged, watching with a bit of satisfaction as his expression turned amazed. 

“You did?” He asked, and you nodded. He looked back over to the food with more scrutiny. “I’m honored you made this all, thank you.” He said, his voice full of reverence. He reached out, his hand hovering over some food. The former farmer glanced back at you. “May I?”

“Go right ahead, I made this mostly for you.” You said, grinning as you gestured for him to dig in. You leaned over, grabbing some food for yourself. “I still will eat some too, so don’t you worry.” You let out a small hum of satisfaction as you ate it, enjoying the flavor you had created.

You and Raiden ate, savoring the flavors of the food you made. Silence passed between the both of you for a few moments, finding comfort in simply sitting near each other.

“This is really good.” Raiden complimented after swallowing his bite. His eyebrows furrowed as he seemed to think. Then, a look of recognition appeared on his face. “This cooking actually reminds me of Madam Bo’s actually.” 

“Well, I suppose the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.” You commented, grinning slyly at Raiden’s shocked expression when the realization dawned on him.

“Madam Bo taught you how to cook?” He inquired, glancing between you and the food you had created. You nodded, setting down your food for a moment to stretch. You sighed in satisfaction as you felt your joints pop. You really needed to stretch more.

“Is it really that surprising?” You inquired, a teasing tone to your voice as you looked over to Raiden. A look of shock appeared on his features, as realization settled on his features. An almost bashful look appeared on his features as he shook his head.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” Raiden quickly said, which made you laugh. You rolled your eyes playfully as you lightly nudged his shoulder.

“I’m kidding Raiden.” You told him, a small mischievous look on your lips still. “But yes, Madam Bo did teach me.” You said, a small nostalgic tone to your voice as you looked over the slowly dwindling amount of food that you were sharing. “She was very insistent that I learn from her.”

“I see.” Raiden ate a bit more food, seeming to savor it even more now. An appreciative smile appeared on his face as he indulged in the food you gave him. “I think I like this even more than Madam Bo’s cooking.” He mentioned. looking up at you with that smile of his. Letting out a surprised laugh, you playfully nudged him again.

“Hah! Don’t let Madam Bo hear that!” You teased, grinning at him. You weren’t certain if he was being polite or not. But, you were compelled to believe him with the sincere way he said those words. Raiden’s smile grew bigger.

“She’d probably stuff me full of food until I pop if I said that around her.” Raiden admitted, laughing alongside you.

Soon enough, the food was all finished, it disappearing quickly as you two conversed. It tasted even better with such lovely company. You packed things up in the small basket you brought, with Raiden helping. Even when the surprise was for him, he still found a way to try and work.

“Did you still want me to train tonight?” The man inquired, raising an eyebrow as he helped finish packing up the stuff, except for the blanket the two of you were sitting on. You sighed and shook your head, sending him an exasperated look. Even after al that, he was thinking about training?

And you thought you were the workaholic.

“We’re not training tonight, you have an important exam tomorrow.” You reminded him, sending him an amused look. You pat the space beside you, having him scoot a bit closer to you. You laid down, letting out another sigh as you stared at the stars above you.

“Let’s just observe and enjoy the beauty of the sky tonight.” You proposed, taking in the beauty of the sky. It was magnificent. The sky seemed to be particularly clear tonight, the stars above twinkling brightly. The moon was nice and full. and seemed to be even bigger, allowing for a breathtaking view.

You heard the sound of Raiden also laying down next to you, also taking a moment to lie down. Minutes passed, a comfortable silence once again settling in. It was just you and him, staring up at the stars and taking in the view.

It was times like this you remember just how lucky you are to be able to witness such a thing.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” You asked, searching the stars. You spotted the constellations in the sky you remembered reading about in a few of the books lying around the Fire Temple. Raiden was sent out of his daze when you spoke. 

Raiden blinked, looking over to you. His stare lingered on you instead, admiring you instead of the galaxy above. You were too wrapped up in looking at the stars to notice the way he looked at you and how his cheeks warmed up.

There was a moment as he stared at you, realizing how fortunate he was to be by your side.

“Yes…yes they are beautiful.”

part ten

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Thomas King and Monty Finch (Actor/Accidental Pretty Woman AU: Chapter 5)

Thomas isn’t known for his impulse control- or at least that’s how he’s justifying it as he reaches out, because he can’t resist, and tucks a few strands Monty’s damp hair behind his ear. That finally gets him Monty’s attention, as Monty’s gaze jerks up to meet Thomas’. 

“Sorry,” Monty says, and drops his phone back on the nightstand, his body already adjusting back to something more practiced, something more ready to get down to business again, and Thomas shouldn’t be feeling odd that the hooker he hired is actually moving to, you know, do his job. His expression shifts into something flirtatious as he reaches a hand to Thomas’ waist and says, “Let's get back to what we came here for.”

And sure, Monty is sexy when he’s trying to be. He knows his assets and he’s not even a little bit shy about exploiting them, which Thomas can appreciate. But god, there’s something irresistible about Monty when he’s not trying, when he’s sprawled out on Thomas’ bed like it’s his own, languid and unselfconscious. It’s jarring to see the transformation in real time, that lightning quick moment of tenderness, Monty’s hair soft and damp under Thomas’ fingers, wiped away as easily as hearts drawn in fogged-up car windows. 

God, it’s a stupid, dangerous thing, caring this much about the guy you're literally paying to get off with you. There is something heavy pressing against the inside of Thomas’ ribs, a feeling he doesn’t like at all. He needs to do something to get rid of it, needs it gone, like, yesterday. And maybe that’s his excuse, for saying something as monumentally inappropriate as, “Your mother- does she, like, need money for her hospital bills?”

Monty's expression shutters and fuck, Thomas can't help but mourn the loss of Monty from a moment ago, loose and relaxed and at ease. “Not that it's any of your fucking business, Mr. Hollywood-Star-Up-Your-Fucking-Ass, but no, she has plenty of money to take care of herself.”

-aletterinthenameofsanity, anything_thats_rock_and_roll, people think i'm pretty (i'll sell my pride instead)

Bedsheets, no clothes

Touch me like nobody else does

Lovely to just lay here with you

You're kinda cute, and I would say all of this

But I don't wanna ruin the moment

Lovely to sit between comfort and chaos

But it's over

Then you're driving me home

And it feels like the start of a movie I've seen before

-Lizzy McAlpine, ceilings

And once again @anything-thats-rock-and-roll thank you for all of your help with this chapter- it would not exist without all of your help/writing/additions/edits/emotional support/etc.!

@nix-nihili @sapphic-corgi @ghostofthegallows

@icarus-n-flames @petvampire @sasakisyndrome

@idliketobeatree @cairngorm-ard @paradox-brody-chase

@saffirez @every-moment-a-different-sound

@e-payne @freudensteins-monster

[amphitriteswife]

Sounds Of Broken Memories

💚x💜

Pairing: ! Loki x Sigyn reader

Warings: latest chapter incident

Disclaimer: Sigyn belongs to @miss-seanymph-pani. This shit kinda badly written tbh

Setting: normal au!

Source: shuumatsu no Valkyrie/ Record of Ragnarok

Characters: brunhilde, Sigyn reader, Loki

Genre: angst

Tags: @shark-queen-101 @tinyy-tea-cup @vilereign @monstertreden @nicasdreamer @jonquilclegane @riseofamoonycake @imperfectbloodmoon @swallowtail-lotus @gabelesimp @sigyn-foxyposts @heldril @bromeliae @brokensenseofhumor @telvess @salmonpoki

Language: English

Note: I got inspired by my own feelings? Mostly sadness cause i just tried to put feelings into words.

𓆩♡𓆪

How long has it been since the last time he saw you? He doesn’t remember, all he knows is that he knows that’s it’s way too long. Loki closed his eyes and plopped onto his bed. The feeling of regret and embarrassment flooding over him. How could he ever show his face? Not only did he piss off the gods by wanting to side with Brunhilde, his wife divorced him in the process which only pissed the Nordic gods more, but some gods of other pantheons too. The image of the other gods looking at him with pity worried him more than their anger. Odin had been quiet but his silence spoke enough for him to know that he shouldn’t do anything reckless. Thor could only look at him with pity, he was never one to show many emotions but it was clearer than ever. Though, he rather had Thor’s pity than the anger of his gold haired wife Sif, who could possibly murder him with one gaze of her anger. It felt as if everyone was against him, and it bothered him greatly. He couldn’t help but feel even more emotions, it scared him. How could someone as mischievous as him feel like this? He never cared how other’s felt by his antics…so why does he care now? He didn’t know. He never felt this way…not until now…He sighed again and put his arm over his eyes. He felt a wave of strong emotions overwhelm him, in a way to hold himself together he bit his lower lip very hard. He was sure that was going to leave a mark. He closed his eyes wanting to get away from everything. The feelings. The hurt. The confusion of what he feels.

Loki felt his eyes water a bit and pushed himself of the bed. He paced around the room a bit. His hands finding it’s way to his face. His breath got heavier. The realization and the weight of the situation getting even more intense. It feels suffocating, it felt as if there were a million hands on his body, all representing things it could be. Guilt? Regret? Hurt? Realization? He couldn’t pin point it. But there was one that he could…one that made him suffocate….The hands gripping on his neck, it felt as of someone was choking him…or was it to tell hom that it was his really his fault? Or was it to tell him that the guilt was weighing on him? He tried his best, he really tried, to not let the suffocation get to him. But it got too much…so much and he bursted in tears. It looked so pathetic doesn’t it? A person who hurt others crying for something he done. Knowing he can’t take it back. Knowing he’ll have to live with this guilt. The guilt of hurting his Sigyn, the guilt of his family being broken up because of him. The guilt of the pantheon losing a precursor Valkyrie because of him, the guilt of acting as of he is a victim, when in reality he is the one who hurt her. It’s pathetic. So pathetic. A god isn’t supposed to be like this. A god doesn’t cry. A god doesn’t show mercy or remorse. A god doesn’t care what he does. Especially not the Loki, the got of mischief. Then why was he here doing all the things he wasn’t supposed to do? Why was he being pathetic? Is he pathetic?

•

•

•

He doesn’t know. He can’t deny, not confirm. All of this is too much. It’s too much. He can’t handle it. He can’t. It’s too suffocating, too heavy, too strong, too confusing. He doesn’t know. He takes deep breaths. Trying to keep himself together. His breath slowly steadied…a bitter laugh escaping his lips as he lets himself fall to the ground, his back against the wall. Is this what it feels like? ‘Is this what you felt at that moment Sigyn?’ He understands now. It’s a dark pit. A void. A void that crushes you heart, it makes you feel so much yet nothing at the same time. It’s simple yet complicated. It can be your milestone and you’ll get out stronger…or it’ll be your end. He sighed again and pulled himself to his feet. Loki’s eyes drifted to a portrait. A portrait of her. How could he ever have done this to her? She was a strong woman, even when she was human, a Valkyrie or a goddess, during all of them she was strong. He felt so much guilt, instead of being the one she can rely on, the one she can turn to, he was the one who ended up being the one who hurted her. He hated that. He hated that he ever liked brunhilde. He only liked her because she represented his wife. Brunhilde had her own lover and her loyalty to him. He hated it. He hated what he did, he hated what he caused. But above all he hated himself. Loki walked up to the painting, his fingers lingering on the dried paint. It touched it as of it could crack if he put to much pressure. His eyes scanned over the painting, taking in every detail. Her hair, her face, her eyes, her lips, everything. He needs to remember it. He needs to know. He needs to see her again. He must. He has to. Yet he can’t. He’s to scared. To afraid. Afraid of facing what he caused. Afraid of seeing hurt and sadness in her eyes that once held love and kindness for him.

Loki felt his stomach drop. He began to doubt everything. What if he wasn’t going to see her again. What if she moved on…then…he has nothing left. He’ll lose everything. He doesn’t want it. He knows now. He knows. He knows that he wants only her and not Brunhilde….is it to late? Too late to say sorry? Too late to tell her how much he loves her…how much he would take it all back? Too late to choose for her? He doesn’t want that to happen… He suddenly realized that he was gripping the golden frame of the painting too hard. He missed her…he can’t explain it. This room…this floor…this palace…it doesn’t feel like home anymore… he sighs and softly pressed his forehead against the glass of the painting. He won’t hear her laughs anymore. He won’t see her smile or her scoff when he pulls a prank, he won’t see her look at him again…he won’t see her enjoy the nature of the Norse landscape again… Loki’s form trembled against the painting. That’s right. What made this a home. His home. Was her. She was the one that felt as of he was at home…not the palace or the broken memories they shared…Just her. She was enough.

Parallel lines never meet. They go on forever and ever, but never touch. Same goes for perpendicular lines. They meet once, but they’ll drift apart forever…perhaps they were meant to drift apart…

[a-kaash-me-outside]

a bit dirty - ch2

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch2 | next [masterlist]

// most likely a bad idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 5608 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, more exposition in this one, osamu being a caring adorable little bitch oh my god, fucking your boss, names names names pet names a million pet names, slight slowburn? like they fuck but-, afab she/her pronouns

join my taglist here!! ~~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

you can’t take your eyes off of him.

you can’t stop staring at miya osamu for a number of varying reasons, each one maybe a bit worse than the last starting with oh he’s looking at you and ending with he’s your boss and also your most recent hookup with a bit of wow he’s so attractive sprinkled in the middle. 

neither of you are saying anything. the tension is palpable, evident, buzzing in the air, and you just keep strong eye-contact with him because you don’t know what else to do. what do you say to him? do you instantly address it? let him bring it up? just walk out of here right now and leave in embarrassment?

osamu is about to open his mouth, save you from this repetitive torture in your head, but he’s interrupted by another voice.

“hey,” a voice calls from the kitchen, getting louder as the swinging door is pushed open and the blonde guy from last night emerges. “unless you need me to stick around and run front of house while you train today, i’m headin’ out, kay, samu?” his voice trails off at the end as he notices osamu just standing there, confused only until he sees you and remembers you right away. 

“holy shit,” he says, “what? did ya track him down or somethin? thought you didn’t know each other’s na-” the end of his sentence trails off again as he notices the apron in your arms and the signature onigiri miya black t-shirt that you’re wearing. “holy shit.”

“atsumu, kitchen, now,” osamu says, low and commanding and despite how joking and mischievous this atsumu seems, he knows not to push it any further than he already has. he pushes the swinging door open with his shoulder and walks back inside of the kitchen. 

it’s quiet again, but he’s already spoken now, the air of his voice still lingering as you wait for him to talk once more, to you this time. you take a few more steps inside towards the counter and when you’re close enough, you let your hands rest on the edge. “sorry, let me just,” osamu says, turning around and setting the rice cooker down on the counter by the kitchen door. he wipes his hands on his white apron and then walks back over to you. 

“we should probably talk about…,” he says, not finishing his sentence because both of you know exactly what you need to probably talk about. you don’t just know this man, he’s been inside of you. you nod in agreement, pushing the thought from your mind before you get yourself all flustered, setting your apron on the counter and tapping your fingers against the fabric.

osamu takes a deep breath very similar to the one you took right outside of the restaurant, “if you’re uncomfortable at all, i would be happy to ask around to my restaurant buddies to find you a new position or write you a letter of recommendation or-”

you cut him off, shaking your head curtly, “that won’t be necessary, really.”

“are you sure?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed, “i want to make sure that-”

“miya-san,” you interrupt, eyes flickering down to his name tag, “i’m not uncomfortable, i swear. i’m okay. i’m good. i wasn’t even working here when it happened. and it really isn’t a big deal, we don’t have to make it a big thing. it happened. it’s over. it’s a new morning,” kinda, you think, “and it’s in the past. i’m great to just move on from it.”

osamu is quiet, thinking over everything you’ve said, but not saying anything in return. 

“if- if that’s okay with you,” you tack on.

“yea, of course,” he responds quickly, “i just wanted to make sure that ya have a comfortable work environment and that,” he clears his throat, “last night doesn’t hinder that fact for ya.”

you shake your head back and forth. the thought of going through the process of finding another job, even with a recommendation letter and networking, is already giving you a headache. besides, you’d probably end up working for someone osamu knows anyway and then what? they know about what happened or they don’t and you have to guess whether they do or not? you shake your head harder. you can get over this. 

“‘m sorry i didn’t notice. if i’d’ve known your name or somethin’, i would’ve maybe put the pieces together, but i only saw your resume, didn’t talk to ya or meet with ya, y’know?” he says, hand on the back of his neck, eyes on the floor for just a moment. 

“no worries, i get it,” you say, tiny laugh, but you’re really thinking, wasn’t expecting my boss to be out at a club 6 hours before my shift. 

he hums, a knowing smile on his lips as if he read your mind and shot right back, wasn’t expecting my new employee to be out at a club 6 hours before her shift. 

“it won’t happen again,” you say, “already out of my mind,” you lie. 

“right,” he says, smiling, and you’re not sure if you’re reading into it or if it’s real, that same regret and hesitancy that you saw last night as he left without your number. he shakes whatever it is quickly, “lemme teach ya how to make the onigiri.” he nods towards the kitchen, pushes the door open for you and you walk under his arm, sliding past him, shoulder brushing up against his chest in passing. 

already out of your mind, yea fuckin’ right.

/\ /\ /\

if there was a chart of the relationship between the time you’ve spent working at onigiri miya and the tension between you and osamu, it wouldn’t be linear or exponential or constant in any sort of way, it would be disruptive, an arrhythmic pattern of ups and downs. 

even if the two of you hadn’t mentioned it a single other time, it lives in both of your heads, the events of that night. well, you know that it lives in your head, you suppose you can’t speak for osamu completely, but you can’t imagine the things that remind you of that night don’t remind him as well.

there are spans of time when you don’t think about it for weeks, usually the times that you aren’t scheduled as frequently or the back to back shifts that you spend busy out of your mind, no room in your head for anything other than work work work work work. you’re not sure if you welcome or rebuke these bouts.

in fact, between these mindless interim periods and the many instances that filled your head with reminiscing thoughts, you’ve survived over four months at onigiri miya without a single incident. rather, without a single explicit incident.

there were plenty of times that the chart spiked, that the chaotic pattern between your timeline and the tension skyrocketed only to fall back down to a normal level shortly thereafter, no follow up, no mention. 

it was as simple as his strong hands on your hips, exceedingly busy as he rushed from one side of the bar to the other, sliding behind you, but not wanting to bump you out of the way, unwavering grip, fingers digging into the fabric of your apron and your soft hips beneath it, a low sorry under his breath ghosting over the skin of your exposed neck. the butterflies that accompanied it and the bewildered look you threw him and the one he threw back as he approached the other side of the bar.

it was as quick as him reaching over your shoulder for something in the kitchen, fast-paced and thoughtless as his chest pressed up against your side, pushing you into the counter the slightest bit, hips pressing against your lower back, hand on your shoulder to steady you as he withdrew.

it was as innate as asking to tie your apron on one of your first days, hands smoothing over your stomach to find the strings without sight, pulling them a bit too taut as you step backwards into his hips, the way that he stayed put for a few moments before creating a bit of distance to tie it behind your back, one hand holding both loose strings as he adjusted it correctly against your waist, the carefulness of his fingers as they made a neat bow against your back and pulled it tight.

it was as effortless as a question, walking past the open door of the walk-in, “can i help you with that?” asking, arms already reaching up to support the heavy cardboard box that you were pulling down from the top shelf, not grabbing on until you nodded yes, and the second that you did, placing his hands on top of yours and guiding it down with you, soft hand on the back of your elbow, making sure, “got it?”

tonight is just another one of those nights, a night home to instances of incline and tension. you haven’t had one in a while. you enjoy living in these moments, drinking in the tiny amounts of callback to a really great night you once had. 

“shit, we were so busy tonight,” you say, throwing your bag over your shoulder, undoing your apron and stuffing it in said bag. you remove the clip that’s containing your hair, punch your employee number into the computer, clocking out and exhaling a breath without the weight of your work day resting on your shoulders. you are no longer on the clock, no longer responsible for people’s order and the restaurant's reputation. 

“yea, can’t believe you’re better than sumu and it’s only been a few months,” osamu laughs and you shrug with a false smugness. 

“what can i say?” you ask, tilting your head into your shoulder as you hold your shrug, a very genuine and prideful smile replacing your joking cocky one. “i had a really great teacher.”

“ha! so did sumu,” osamu says, pointing at you, “promise it’s not me makin’ the difference.”

ba-bump.

osamu clears his throat in the small bout of silence, shaking his head as if to reset. “anyway, seriously,” he starts, “thanks for stickin’ around and all your great work.”

“no sweat,” you say, fiddling with the strap of your bag to distract yourself from the praise he keeps sending your way. “i’ll see you tomorrow? i switched shifts with aran, so i think you and i are opening together, yay.”

he laughs, dipping his clean rag into the clean sink filled with soapy water, ringing it out tightly before wiping it along the bartop. “i do enjoy opening with you,” he admits, “ya know what you’re doing and i don’t have to babysit you.”

“i’m telling aran,” you quip, smiling.

“i mean, i don’t have to babysit aran either,” osamu points out.

“then what’s the difference?” you tease, but it’s not really supposed to be a tease, not like this. the two of you often joked around with each other, but typically in larger groups where there were more people to witness it and the words held less weight than they do now. 

osamu ignores your question, shaking his head as he throws a different one to you instead, “hey, didya even eat?” what was maybe meant to be distracting turns into straight concern, his eyebrows furrowed as he pauses his cleaning motions.

you tilt your head back. “shit, no,” you groan, “ugh, i was so busy i didn’t even remember to eat dinner.” you pull out your phone, opening your maps to try and find somewhere decent that’s open this late, somewhere fast and easy to get to. you let out another groan. “i could probably make it to-”

“i can whip ya up somethin real fast,” osamu says, cutting you off.

“no, no, you have to get home,” you wave your hand at him, eyes still on your phone as you scroll past all of the quick places on your way home that say closed closed closed closed. you point at him, “i know what time you’re in tomorrow, it’s far too late to make food.”

“i was gonna make myself dinner, anyway,” he says, hands up in surrender. you squint your eyes at him, skeptical. “honest,” he says and your words and breath get caught in your throat. you’re not sure he clocks the parallels and the way that that word has stuck around in the back of your mind for four months, but that coupled with his enticing smile is coaxing you back to the barstool. you set your bag on one of the seats. 

“fine,” you say, finger tapping on the wooden bartop before grabbing your apron back from your bag and reclipping your hair. “but i’m helping you in the kitchen so it goes even faster.”

“alright, alright, deal,” osamu says. his laughter is already buried in your chest and now his smile is burned into the backs of your eyelids and soon enough his entire memory will be with you no matter where you go.

you follow his instructions in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables and stirring the food on the stove and grabbing ingredients from the pantry and every so often when you’re not deadset focused on something and when he’s just casually moving around food in a pan, you watch him watch you with a very familiar look in his pretty gray eyes.

he’s behind the bar, standing as he’s about to take a bite of the dinner the two of you have quickly made and you’re sitting on the barstool in front of him. “do you ever sit?” you ask, spoonful shoved in your mouth as you realize how hungry you actually are now that you have food in front of you. 

“usually, no,” he laughs, watching your lips close around the spoon and smiling only once your food-caused smile arises. 

“well, come sit,” you say, gesturing to the seat beside you, “makin’ me feel like a customer or something, gonna start talking to you about the weather and how business is going if you don’t hurry.”

he doesn’t say anything, only offers a teasing eye roll as he pushes the bowl in front of the seat next to you and makes his way beside you, leaning down to pluck two beers from the fridge before joining you on the other side of the counter. he sits down, a soft grunt falling from his lips as he realizes that, huh, he really hasn’t sat down all day and, huh, it does feel nice, but maybe that’s not entirely due to the fact that he’s sitting. in fact, most of it is probably due to who he’s sitting with. 

“see? isn’t that better?” you ask, reaching in front of him and taking one of the beers. you stand up in your seat, reaching over the counter and grabbing the bottle opener because you know exactly where it is without even having to look. he hums in agreement.

by the time your bowls are finished, so are a handful of beers, 2 for you, 3 for him, and long after your dinner is over, each of you are nursing one more. you have been for the better half of an hour. you haven’t mentioned the time and he hasn’t either and there isn’t any plan to.

“thanks for dinner,” you say, a bit quieter now because you’re facing him, knee up clashing against his as you swivel in your chair, but neither of you say anything about it and you don’t go to move it. you rest your head in your hand, chin on your palm as you smile up at him, warm from the alcohol and the fact that you’ve been dying to have a moment like this with osamu since the moment you were hired.

“wasn’t gonna let you go home hungry, doll,” he says, lets it slip in the lateness of the night and the laziness of the conversation and it takes him a few half-seconds to clock it. when he does, his mouth is open, back straighter, instantly about to apologize, but you reach out, desperate for him not to regret it, and you rest your hand on his upper thigh.

“i know,” you say, low and viscous, tip of your tongue swiping against your bottom lip, teeth biting down, slow blinks and fingers curling against his toned thigh, “you’re thoughtful like that, samu.”

you swear you can hear his heart skip a beat as he tries to take in everything that’s happening, tries to make a rational decision, but any rationality is quickly leaving his mind as you stand up, supporting yourself on his thigh, now standing between his chair and yours, little room to move, pressed up against the sides of his knees. 

your movements are slow, giving him plenty of time to object or stop you, but he doesn’t. his lips part as your palm rests against his jaw, thumb under his chin to tilt his head up towards you and if you could hear his heart skip a beat earlier, you know he can hear how furiously yours is beating right now. 

you lower your head, guide his lips to yours and kiss him again, finally. he tastes like beer and dinner, but somehow just like you remember him tasting that night. it takes him only a second to move, for his brain to catch up to the events that are happening, but when he does, it’s like something snaps. 

hand on your lower back, standing up to meet you, to pull you closer to him, other hand on the side of your neck, fingers spanning the skin, massaging your throat, curling around the back, fingers grabbing onto strands of your hair, his touch is desperate. 

his kiss is even worse, teeth dragging against your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, tongue mashing over yours, he can’t taste you enough. and you get it. you understand more than anyone because you’ve had to work with osamu for the last four months, see him every week, be reminded of his strong arms and tight chest and pretty eyes and soft voice and you need him very quickly, embarrassingly quickly. 

you want to take your time, more time than you were given in the club, more time than you could ask for. you want to kiss down his chest and feel his heavy cock on your tongue and have his head between your thighs, but your mind is filling in all of the blanks, telling you exactly how the rest of the night is going to go and it doesn’t matter how much you want hours and hours of teasing foreplay and drawn-out intimacy, you’ve been empty since he came all over your thighs.

you let him hold your face, move you to kiss him exactly how he wants to be kissed, and you snake your hands down to his belt and his zipper. you need him now. you murmur it into his mouth, down his throat, “need you now, osamu, please, been so long, please.”

he hears you, every whiney syllable, every desperate word, and he’s not going to deny you, no matter how badly he wants to taste you like he didn’t get to taste you before. “okay,” he breathes, “not here, though, puppy, okay?” 

he cycles through acceptable places for him to fuck you in his restaurant and the very open floor plan of the main dining area definitely isn’t it. absolutely not the kitchen either. his office is locked, would take an entire code, a 2 minute waiting period, and, at worst, a call to his security company. he looks down at you, eyes darting all around your whimpering face and you know what he’s going to say before he’s even said it. 

you laugh first, and then nod. “guess i was right,” you say, “that you’re gonna fuck me in the bathroom again.”

he doesn’t know whether to roll his eyes again or shake his head jokingly or laugh along with you, so he doesn’t do any. “thank god,” he groans, pulling you through the restaurant into the single-room women’s restroom. 

he shuts the door behind him and locks it as if anyone was even able to get inside of the restaurant right now. still, being trapped in these confines is reminiscent in the best way. it’s cleaner here, quieter. you’re able to focus on osamu instead of worrying about touching wet spots and if people can hear you.

you’re in front of the mirror staring back at yourself and osamu behind you. you go to turn around, to face him, but you watch his hands root onto your hips, fingers digging in to hold you still, and then you watch them slip under your shirt, the shape under the fabric moving from your tits to your stomach up to your neck and back down to the button of your jeans. 

all the while, he’s grinding into you, hard cock confined in his jeans thrusting into your ass and all you can do- all you want to do is watch it happen. he’s not paying any attention to the mirror, but he makes sure that you are, moving your chin to stare directly back at yourself every time you turn your head.

he kisses the side of your neck as he quickly undoes your jeans, zipper, hooks his fingers into the waistband of both and pulls them down to your ankles, nudging them apart while he’s down there to spread them as far as they can. you can’t see him fiddling with his own, but you can hear it and you can see his arms moving in the mirror, head down, and you can hear his jeans fall onto the floor as well.

“can- can i ask?” you preface your question with a question, timid and sweet, and he looks up into the mirror, meets your eyes and there’s no way that he can turn you down.

“anything,” he says, hand on the base of your neck, heel of his palm pushing as it slides down your spine. your chest falls towards the sink slowly, both of your hands gripping the sides of it as your face gets closer to the mirror and the faucet. 

“did-,” the question is circling in your head, but the embarrassment is rising to your cheeks, trapping it in your throat, you can’t get it out. you look at him through the mirror. 

“what is it, doll? anything,” he reminds you, three fingers gingerly touching your clit, following up between your lips, scooping some of the mess that he’s already of you onto his fingertips to circle around his leaking head. 

“did you- were you thinking about this? have- have you thought about this?” you ask, because you’re dying, burning, aching to know. 

“that’s hardly appropriate, bunny,” he says, shaking his head. 

you feel so warm, insanely warm, impossibly hot, but he leans down and kisses the back of your shoulder, replacing his lips with his grip as he pulls you backwards onto his cock, not using his hand to guide himself inside, but the tightness of your cunt sucking him in again. he grunts as he enters you, fingers like a vice on your shoulder so hard that if you weren’t so drunk off the feeling of being so full again, it might even have hurt. 

he lets out a soft laugh, a tiny chuckle, “every fucking night, angel.”

you don’t get to watch it disappear inside of you, but you get to watch osamu’s expression as he does, eyes screwed shut, chin tilted upwards as a moan rises from his chest and leaves his throat. the stretch is so much better than last time, no prep from his thick fingers, just his fat cock slipping inside of you, hips driving it deeper until they’re right against your ass. 

he pushes the back of your shirt up, places the heels of both of his palms in the small of your back, soft against your skin, and then he moves you back and forth on his cock. he moves his hips to match the pace, fucking into you repeatedly, eyes trained on your movements in the mirror, of your facial expressions melting as his cock drags against your fluttering walls. 

“o-,” you whimper, “s- samu, fuck.” your fingers grip into the sink harder, trying to brace yourself as best you can, pushing back onto his cock as he continues to fuck you because you can’t get enough. you need him deeper, harder, more. 

“should’ve told you my name that night,” he says, clicking his tongue. he reaches down, grabs you by the inside of your thigh to spread your legs even wider, and then rubs small circles into your swollen clit. your arms are shaking against the sink at the feeling. you’re unraveling very quickly, eyes closing, unable to focus on the sights in front of you and now it’s him that can’t take his eyes off your reflection. you look fucked out, gorgeous, adorable, eyes rolling back, trying so hard to stay strong as your first orgasm approaches.

“what?” you breathe at his last sentence, eyebrows furrowed, so much on your mind. he could mean a million things. you can barely focus on not crashing your face into the faucet let alone understanding whatever he’s saying.

“sounds so good coming out of your mouth,” he huffs, picking up the pace, balls brushing against the inside of your thighs as he fucks into you harder, “need to hear it forever, pretty girl.”

you don’t even say it to show off or to make him happy, barely register what he’s asking for, just need to repeat it over and over again because how else are you going to prove that the noises you’re making are just for him, are because of him. “s- samu, please, gon’ come, please make m’ come, samu,” you cry.

“can’t say no to you, dove,” he whispers into your skin, kissing the back of your shoulder softly as he rubs his messy fingers against your throbbing clit. 

a symphony of thank yous and osamus leave your tongue as you come around him, walls choking his fat cock, gushing all over him as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. when you’ve come down from your high, when the immense pleasure has faded, you feel weak, drunk, so fucked out that you can barely stand, arms wobbling against the edges of the sink. osamu notices it in an instant, leans back, takes care of you, pulls you up with him, walking backwards, holding you in place on his cock as he pushes his back up against the bathroom wall. you can still see yourself perfectly in the mirror when you recover enough to fully open your eyes. 

you can’t imagine that the way that he’s holding you now is a walk in the park, supporting all of your weight on his thighs and in his hands, but he’s acting like it’s nothing, or maybe it is nothing to him. regardless, you feel completely supported as he thrusts up into you and you fall back down onto his cock. you’re not moving a muscle, not expending a single bit of energy other than to keep yourself from falling from side to side and even that is helped by osamu’s hold on you. 

you’re moving like a doll on top of him, bouncing up and down. he can barely get a good look, view obstructed by you, but he can see the ripples in the fat of your ass as you slam down against his hips. he can hear the sharp inhale every time his head dives as deep as it can go. he can feel how tight you are around him, how your walls hug him perfectly. he can remember how much he’s missed this feeling, how he’s tried to replicate this snugness with his fist and failed miserably.

“fuck, angel, gonna come,” he exhales.

“gonna fuck m’ thighs again, samu?” you ask, sweet and thick like syrup and he grunts at the tone, hips skipping just from the sound of your voice.

“yea, puppy, been thinkin’ bout this since that night,” he says, kissing the side of your neck, pulling out of you quickly as he feels the tightness in his balls. he slips between your thighs, soft and plush and messy. he fucks up into them the same way he fucked into your cunt. you squeeze your thighs around his hard length as tight as you can and he almost falls to the ground, a growl leaving his throat as he fucks your thighs even faster. you reach down, wrapping your fist around his head, swiping your thumb over the slit, tightening your grip as he fucks into it.

his release is unannounced, ropes of come spilling over your fist and onto your thighs, running down the insides of them gathering around the base of his cock as he slips through the mess he’s made, come leaking from the tip, drooling down the sides, between your legs and onto him. 

he presses his back completely against the wall, slides onto the floor breathless, arm instantly wrapping around your stomach to hold you in place and you don’t mind one bit, leaning back into him, feeling his heartbeat against your back and his cheek nuzzling into your neck, small kisses being placed at the base. 

you could’ve fallen asleep here, right here, in osamu’s arms.

you really could’ve fallen asleep here.

right here.

in osamu’s arms.

in the bathroom of onigiri miya.

where you work.

where someone could’ve found you in the morning. 

a customer or a coworker or someone much worse. 

fuck.

you’re too far down on the floor to see your reflection in the mirror still and you’re so grateful for it. you don’t want him to see the pained expression on your face and you don’t want to know what his looks like either. “we-,” you hesitate because you really don’t want to say what you’re about to say, “we probably shouldn’t- do this anymore-,” you whisper.

his response is instant, remorseful, embarrassed, “fuck, shit- yea, no, i’m so sorry-”

“no,” you cut him off, shaking your head, “i don’t- i don’t regret it,” you say, strong, “don’t regret the first time, definitely don’t regret this one, fuck actually, i really needed that, but i think maybe that should just be our last time.” if he can hear your voice break and crack a bit at the end, he doesn’t mention it as you push on, “‘ts a fine line we’re walking, fucking in the bathroom at work.”

“neither of us on the clock,” he notes and you suppose that does make it somewhat better, though, you’re not sure he’s ever really on the clock, “but you’re completely right.” he lets go of your waist. you’re slow to move to your feet, terrified that this whole act of cleaning up and going home will be weird and awkward, but the second that you’re off of him, he rushes to his feet, pulls you up gently, one hand on your waist to steady to you as you stand up straight. 

he hands you tissues and fixes himself up, brushes your hair out of your eyes and looks at your lips as he does and the atmosphere of the bathroom isn’t awkward or weird, it���s impossibly hard. you don’t want to leave, suddenly feeling very guilty about telling him that you should probably stop these impromptu sessions because you’re not sure how you’re going to keep up with your side of the bargain at the very least.  

“should we-,” you motion to the floor, to the wet marks and the fingerprints on the sink. he shakes his head.

“i’ll get it in the mornin’, okay? you head home,” he gestures to the front door. 

“are you sure?” you ask, smoothing out your shirt, swallowing gently as you look into his soft gray eyes. 

he nods, quick and assured. “i’ll see ya in the morning.” he hesitates before adding, “unless you want me to call aran and see if he won’t switch back with ya-”

you shake your head, “no way. you prefer opening with me anyway,” you tease, “i’ll see you in the morning, samu.” you offer a small wave as you leave the bathroom. 

he doesn’t move until he hears the front door open and then close again and then he lets out a huge sigh, puts his face in his hands and lets out another along with a small, but audible, “fuck. fuck, how does she this to me?”

he doesn’t hear the door open and close the second time, the time that you actually leave after hearing his exacerbated private sentence with your forgotten bag in tow and a sinking feeling in your stomach.

the guilt is biting at your heels as you walk down the street to your bus stop, screaming at you to turn around and run back and kiss him very hard and very confidently, god knows you could’ve, but you don’t. 

each step is heavy, dragging, and your bus shows up at the exact second that you make it to the stop, no time to overthink decisions or even look back in the direction whence you came. 

and yet, despite everything, no regret is harbored in your heart or your veins, just an underlying fear that you won’t be able to follow your own rules very well or very long.

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