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riversally · 14 days ago

Text

𝘉𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴

fwb, stopped talking. now she can’t look at him without remembering, and he never stopped looking.

parts. ???

content. Choso x Reader, Drinking, D*ugs mentions, suggestive dialogue, and tension, ex!fwb-to-lovers, Strong language & mature themes.

notes. idk if this will be a series tbh. just wanted to write smut:(

The house smells like vodka and broken promises.

Someone’s burning cheap incense in the kitchen and someone else is vaping watermelon-flavored poison in the living room, but it all blurs under the same umbrella of college party air: sweat, beer, too much perfume, and that sharp spark of bad decisions.

I don’t want to be here.

But I show up anyway. I always do.

Because I like the way the bass buzzes through my ribs. I like the way people forget who they are in the dark. I like the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not looking back.

Not that I care. Obviously.

"Are you gonna stop staring or do I need to start charging you rent?" Shoko mutters without looking at me, sipping through her straw like she already knows the answer.

I blink and tear my eyes away from him, cheeks heating.

"I wasn’t," I say, a beat too late.

She snorts. "Right. And I lead Sunday service at the convent now."

"You’re impossible."

"You’re obvious."

"I hate him."

"You hate how he makes you feel. Big difference."

She sips her drink slowly. "Hate him harder. Maybe he’ll fuck you into a wall about it."

I throw a napkin at her head.

The thing is, she’s not wrong. Not about the fucking part—well, maybe. But the obsession part? That’s harder to deny.

Because he’s magnetic in that reckless, golden-boy-who’s-failing-calc way. He wears his hoodie sleeves always rumpled like he rolled them up in a hurry, like he never finishes anything he starts (well, maybe), smells like a bonfire and a secret, and walks like the hallway exists for him.

And he’s an asshole.

Cocky, smug, flirty in that way where you can’t tell if it’s serious or if he’s just fucking with you.

I hate that he talks like he’s smarter than everyone else, like every sentence is a puzzle he already solved. I hate that he can sit through two full lectures without a word, then say one thing that hijacks my brain for days.

But hate isn’t supposed to feel like this. Not like a heat in your stomach or your throat going tight when he runs a hand through his stupid hair like he doesn’t know people notice.

It’s not supposed to make your pulse skip just because he left, like some stupid part of you might want to go after him.

so.

I wait three minutes.

Then I follow.

The hallway is dim, washed in the reddish glow from some LED strip light taped to the ceiling. It smells like weed and spilled Fireball.

I don’t know why I’m here.

Or maybe I do. Maybe I’m tired of pretending I’m not waiting for him to look at me like he’s starving. Maybe I’m tired of holding my breath when he walks by like it’s not obvious I want him to say something. Do something.

I reach for the wall, fingers skimming the cool paint. I feel him before I see him.

Then—

His voice, soft but scratchy. Like smoke and sleep.

"You stalking me now?"

I turn, slowly. I shift my weight and tuck my hands into my sleeves, like maybe if I anchor myself to my own body, I won’t unravel in front of him.

He’s leaning against the doorframe at the end of the hall. Cup in one hand. Hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Hair messy like he’s been running his fingers through it for hours.

His mouth curves up when he sees me. That smile—half challenge, half question.

"Didn’t think you were the type to follow someone into the dark."

I cross my arms, not defensive—just done. I glance down the hallway and exhale, slow.

"Just wanted to get some fresh air in here," I say flatly. "Nothing to do with you."

He tilts his head, like he’s trying to decide whether to believe me.

I don’t give him the time.

I push off the wall.

"I’m not here for you."

"Didn’t say you were."

....."I came for the quiet. That’s it."

He doesn’t push. Doesn’t smirk. Just watches me for a beat too long.

It’s the first time all night he feels… quiet.

I breathe in, sharp and steady. Then walk past him, slow.

And he lets me go.

I don’t look back, even though my skin prickles like he’s still watching. The hallway gives way to the noise again—the thump of bass, laughter too sharp, voices blending like static. But something’s shifted.

I don’t know what I expected. I just know I feel different.

I slip back into the crowd like it never happened.

But it did.

And it’s going to live in my ribs for a while.

God, what was I thinking?

The second I step back into the room, it crashes over me like a wave—pure, stomach-tightening secondhand embarrassment. For me. For the way I followed him out like some moody, overdramatic protagonist. For the way I thought something might happen. Like I wanted something to.

I feel heat crawl up my neck, already regretting how much space I gave that moment. How much space I gave him.

I glance around to make sure no one noticed—not that anyone ever does. That almost makes it worse.

I keep my drink close, like it’s a shield. Like it can protect me from the ache behind my eyes or the way the room feels suddenly wrong in its shape. I don’t want to be here anymore, but I don’t want to leave either. Leaving would feel too much like running.

And I’ve done enough of that tonight.

Shoko catches my eye from across the room. Her brows lift in a silent you good?

I nod. Lie with my eyes. Sip something I barely taste.

The bass thuds like it’s trying to punch a hole through my chest. The bodies around me sway, laugh, stumble, shout—alive in that reckless way I usually find comforting. Tonight it feels like noise. Like camouflage I didn’t ask for.

He’s not in the room when I glance around. Of course he’s not.

Which should feel like relief.

(It doesn’t.)

Time slides. One song. Two. A conversation I’m only half-present for. I keep smiling, nodding, pretending I don’t feel like my skin’s been peeled back in some invisible way.

At some point I slip outside, out through the back door where the cold is sharper and the quiet is real.

The porch is damp from dew. Someone left a jacket on the railing. There’s a half-dead plant slumping over in a chipped terracotta pot.

It’s the most peaceful thing I’ve seen all night.

I sit.

Not because I’m waiting for him. Not because I want to feel anything. Just because I need to stop moving for five minutes without having to explain it.

The air bites at my ankles. I didn’t bring a jacket.

Of course I didn’t.

I hear the door creak open behind me and brace myself for company I don’t want.

But I don’t move. Not until I hear his voice—quieter now.

“You always hide when you’re upset?”

I close my eyes. Exhale. Count to five.

“Not upset,” I say.

“Sure.”

He’s closer now. I don’t look at him, but I feel him sit next to me. A little too close. Not touching. Just enough to steal my body heat.

I should tell him to go.

I should say something biting. Something clean and final.

But I don’t.

I say, “You think everything’s about you.”

His mouth curves, not quite a smile. “No. Just you.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re not charming.”

A beat.

Then another.

The silence folds in on itself.

“Why’d you follow me?” I ask, not looking at him.

He doesn’t answer right away.

I feel his gaze like a hand on my skin—hesitant. Familiar.

Then, quiet:

“I miss you.”

I laugh, soft and sharp, like it cuts my tongue on the way out. “Why?”

That hangs in the air too long.

I glance sideways—just enough to see his jaw tighten, his mouth part, then close again. He doesn’t say a word.

And that’s worse than anything he could’ve said.

Because I know what silence means. I know what it doesn’t.

I nod once. Not angry. Not sad. Just done.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

I stand.

He doesn’t stop me—not at first. I make it halfway down the porch steps before I hear him move.

Footsteps. A breath. The soft sound of the door creaking shut behind him.

I don’t turn around.

But then, there’s the quiet scrape of his voice. “Let me drive you home.”

I pause. Just for a second. Then, without looking at him, I nod once.

The car ride is silent. The kind that crackles. I stare out the window like the trees have something better to say than either of us do.

When he parks outside my place, I hesitate. My hand on the door handle. But I don’t get out.

I turn to him, eyes still tired, voice still rough. “What are you doing?”

He looks at me. Really looks.

“I don’t know,” he says. “Just… don’t go yet.”

Something in my chest snaps sideways.

I don’t know who leans in first. Maybe both of us. Maybe it doesn’t matter. All I know is his mouth meets mine like it’s a question, like maybe if we get close enough we won’t have to answer anything.

It starts soft.

But I’ve never done soft with him.

So it doesn’t stay that way.

His hand finds my waist like he remembers it. Like maybe he never stopped.

I don’t mean to pull him closer. I don’t mean to open my mouth under his or grip the front of his hoodie like I want to climb inside it. But I do.

And he lets me.

His breath hitches, sharp against my cheek, like he wasn’t expecting this—like I wasn’t expecting this. And maybe I wasn’t. Maybe this is just one more bad idea on a night that’s full of them.

But then he says my name—quiet, hoarse, like it’s breaking in his mouth—and it hits something soft in me I thought I’d buried.

“Don’t,” I whisper. I don’t even know what I mean by it. Don’t stop. Don’t talk. Don’t make it real.

But he listens anyway.

His mouth drops to my neck, slow, and I let my head fall back, pulse thudding against his lips. One of his hands slides up under my shirt and it’s stupid how fast my body remembers him—how fast it betrays me.

I shift in my seat and he groans, low and desperate, like he hates how much he wants this.

We shouldn’t be doing this.

But his fingers are on my thighs and I’m pulling him closer and maybe this is what we do—maybe we only speak the same language when our mouths are pressed together and the rest of the world fades out.

I climb over the center console without thinking, straddle him in the driver’s seat, and kiss him like it’ll erase everything we can’t say. His hands grip my hips like he’s afraid I’ll vanish, and I tilt forward until our foreheads touch.

“I hate that you feel good,” I mutter.

He breathes out a laugh—almost bitter. “Yeah. Same.”

His hands are under my shirt again, up my spine, warm and careful in a way that shouldn’t make me ache. But it does. God, it does.

I roll my hips once and he swears under his breath. Loud. Hands gripping harder.

“I shouldn’t want you,” I say against his mouth. “You don’t even—”“I do.”

It comes out before I can stop him. Before he can stop himself.

But I don’t ask what he means.

I don’t want the answer if it might ruin this.

So I kiss him harder.

His hand slides lower. He grabs my hips like it’s instinct, like this is the only way he knows how to hold me.

When I grind down again, the friction against his lap makes us both groan. Everything’s too much and not enough—I want more. More heat, more noise, more of the way his mouth crashes into mine like an apology he can’t say out loud.

I fumble with the drawstring of his sweats and he sucks in a sharp breath when I slide my hand underneath. He’s already hard, hot and heavy in my palm, and the way his hips jerk up makes me feel powerful. Dangerous.

He curses into my mouth, hand tugging my shirt up until I have to break the kiss to pull it over my head. He looks at me like he can’t believe I’m real. Like maybe he’s scared I’ll vanish.

He kisses down my neck, teeth dragging over the place that makes my breath hitch. One of his hands slips under my skirt and I shift to give him room.

Fingers dip beneath my underwear and when he finds me wet, he groans like it physically hurts him.

"Fuck," he whispers. "You still feel like this?"

I want to tell him to shut up, but it dies on my tongue.

Because his fingers are moving, slow and deep, curling just right, and my hips are rocking into the rhythm like they already know the dance. It’s maddening—the way he keeps his touch just shy of too much, just enough to leave me chasing it. My breath comes out shaky, broken around the moans I try to swallow.

My thighs start to tremble, my forehead pressing against his as I bite back a whimper. It’s been too long. Or maybe it’s just that it’s him. The weight of everything unsaid, everything we’ve done and not done, coils tight and hot in my stomach.

“Fuck—” I gasp, hips jerking. “Don’t stop.”

His other hand grips my thigh, grounding me, anchoring me. His mouth brushes my jaw, then lower, pressing kisses that feel almost reverent.

“I’m not stopping,” he murmurs, voice wrecked. “I’m not fucking stopping.”

And he doesn’t. He keeps moving, dragging me closer to that edge, watching me with dark, blown eyes like he’s cataloging every twitch, every gasp, every time I fall apart in his lap.

The tension finally breaks—like a dam, like a snapped wire—and I cry out, back arching, thighs squeezing around his wrist. He kisses me through it, deep and messy, like he wants to feel every bit of it on his tongue.

And breathless and dazed, I don’t even have time to recover.

Because I want more.

Because we always do this: want, crash, repeat.

Because when I reach for him, already hard under my fingers, he lets out a guttural sound like he’s been waiting for this moment since the last time I left his bed.

I reach down again, fingers wrapping around him, slow and deliberate. He’s hot in my hand, thick and heavy, already twitching like he’s barely holding on. I stroke him slow at first, teasing, loving the way his jaw clenches, the way his hips jerk up despite himself. It’s intoxicating, the way he falls apart—head tipping back against the headrest, a broken moan ripping from his throat, his fingers digging into my hips like he’s afraid I’ll stop.

The windows are fogged, the whole car steeped in heat and the kind of breathless tension that makes the air feel charged. His hand fists the edge of my skirt, like he needs something to hold onto. Like if he doesn’t touch me, he might actually lose it.

“Fuck, just like that,” he gasps, voice hoarse. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Good,” I breathe, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Maybe I’ll finally get some peace.”

I speed up the pace, twisting my wrist just enough to make his thighs shake. He lets out a choked sound, eyes fluttering shut, jaw slack, completely undone beneath me.

And it’s power, but it’s more than that.

It’s all the tension we never let ourselves talk about. All the times we looked at each other across rooms and pretended it didn’t mean anything. All the heat we buried under hate just to keep our hands to ourselves.

Now there’s no pretending. No space left between us.

Only this.

When I lift myself up and slide down onto him, we both freeze—gasping into each other’s mouths like we forgot how to breathe.

He fills me completely, thick and hot and stretching me in a way that makes my knees shake. I brace my hands on his shoulders, nails digging in. My breath stutters, my forehead pressed to his as we both try not to lose it right then and there.

His fingers clutch my hips like he’s anchoring himself, like if he lets go, we’ll both come undone. I feel every twitch, every tremble. It’s dizzying—the way he fits, the way my body remembers this like muscle memory, like something deeper than thought.

"Shit," he groans, voice wrecked. "You feel—fuck, you still feel insane."

I bite my lip hard, trying to find control, trying to keep some piece of myself from splintering apart. But it’s too much. The way he’s buried inside me, the heat, the pressure, the sheer rightness of it. My walls clench around him involuntarily and he lets out a strangled noise, like he’s barely hanging on.

We don’t move yet. Can’t.

It’s too much.

Too good.

And maybe we both know: nothing is going to be the same after this.

His head falls back against the seat and I lean forward, lips brushing his ear.

He moans. Loud.

I roll my hips and he grabs my ass with both hands, guiding me, meeting me, breathing my name like a confession.

It’s sloppy. Hot. Messy in that way that feels honest—like neither of us knows where we end and the other begins.

His mouth traces every inch of me like he’s trying to relearn what he already knows by heart. My collarbone, the hollow of my throat, the soft curve of my chest—he kisses like he’s trying to apologize for all the months we didn’t speak, didn’t touch, just burned in silence.

I let him. God, I let him. Every scrape of his teeth, every breath he steals from me, every place his hands linger like he’s asking a question and I keep answering yes.

The buildup coils tighter and tighter. It’s unbearable. The weight of everything unsaid—months of stubborn distance, of pretending we didn’t feel this, of lying to ourselves and each other—it presses into my chest like a scream I can’t swallow. I arch into him, chasing the friction, biting my lip to keep the moan in.

He groans against my skin, fingers bruising at my hips, his body so close it feels like a fever. Every thrust, every roll of my hips is desperate and frantic and full of something that feels like grief and longing and too much want.

The ache never left. It just buried itself deeper until now, when everything erupts at once, raw and unfiltered.

And I think—this is what it means to want someone you told yourself you’d never touch again. This is what it means to lie to your own heart.

I come first, shaking, breath catching in my throat as I bury my face in his neck. He follows a few seconds later, gasping my name like it wrecks him.

We sit there , catching our breath, his arms still wrapped around me, my face pressed to his shoulder, skin sticky with sweat, hearts not quite steady yet. I can feel him still pulsing inside me, the aftershocks rolling through both of us in waves.

His hand moves up my spine, barely touching—just enough to make me shiver. It’s too tender. Too careful. It makes my throat close up.

We don't say anything for a long time.

The windows are fogged, the car quiet except for our breathing. I shift slightly, still in his lap, and he doesn’t let go. His arms stay around me like they don't know how to loosen yet.

I should leave. I should say something sharp or cold or clever. Something to put distance between us again. But I can’t. Not yet.

I sit back just far enough to look at him. His eyes are already on me, unreadable in the dark.

“I’m not doing this again,” I say, voice hoarse.

He doesn’t argue. Just nods, slow. Like he knows it’s a lie

=========================

yes, I did skip the storyline a bit but dw I got the smut >:)

#jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk imagine #jjk series #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #x reader #choso x reader #choso smut #jjk choso #choso kamo #fwb

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dark-frosted-heart · 9 months ago

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Your Favorite Body - Matias Asbrink

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

On a night in Achroite when snow fell like petals—

Emma: It's so interesting you'll be able to walk through the forest without any light even though it's night.

Matias: Yeah, it's a phenomenon called snowglow. It's when moonlight reflects off a bed of snow and scatters, making its surroundings brighter. After your eyes adjust to it, the snow will look like it has a faint glow and you'll be treated to a splendid, magical scene.

Emma: Hehe, I'm really looking forward to it! Thank you so much for arranging this!

Matias: You're a dear friend and I've been looking forward to seeing it with you.

A few days ago, we had talked about the "beauty of the forest at night", which led to me going out with Prince Matias.

It was still early, so we stopped at a cafe. As we were chatting, Prince Matias suddenly stared at me intently from across the table.

Matias: By the way, do you have clothes for the cold? The forest's cold at night. You'll need to wear more clothes than usual.

Emma: Yes, I have enough. I brought extra layers and also brought the gloves and scarf that you gave me.

Matias: Well that's a relief. Still, just to be safe, let's warm up here.

Prince Matias smiled and sipped his coffee.

I went to grab my cup too when—

Emma: Woah!

The metal cup was hotter than I expected and I pulled my hand back.

The cup ended up flying toward Prince Matias, its contents spilling out...

Emma: P-prince Matias! Are you okay?

Matias: Yeah, I'm fine. How about you?

Emma: I'm fine...I'm so sorry about that!

I rushed over to Prince Matias' side and wiped his coat and shirt with a linen cloth.

(This is bad, it's not coming off at all. And he's pretty wet...)

I didn't give up though, and grabbed his shirt. Snow shadow-colored eyes shifted from side to side.

Matias: ...

Emma: It's hot too. Did you get burned?

Matias: Like I said before, I'm fine. I only got a little wet, it's no problem. [to himself] I never imagined that a fantasy of mine from back when I was a student would come true.

Emma: Hm? I'm glad you didn't get hurt. I'm so sorry for the stain. Please let me give you a replacement next time.

Matias: There's no need. I'm pretty good at cleaning stains since it's something I had to do often while I was a student. However, it won't be good to go into the forest like this.

(That's true. He'll freeze right away with wet clothes)

Emma: Then let's cancel our outing today.

(It's unfortunate, but it's better than Prince Matias catching a cold)

Matias: No, I'd rather not. I know—

After leaving the cafe, Prince Matias took me to a nearby inn.

Matias: If I air them out in a warm room, they'll dry faster. We still have some time. Let's stay here for a while. This inn's a favorite of mine.

Matias sounded pretty cheerful and didn't blame me at all.

(He's so nice)

My chest warmed at the thought as I headed toward the back of the room.

Emma: I'll light the lamps.

Matias: No, hold on...I'll light this candle.

(This candle?)

Prince Matias picked up a candle from a shelf nearby and lit it with a sense of familiarity.

The room was immediately bathed in a warm light and the intricate decorations on the candle holders stood out.

Emma: ...Amazing.

Matias: Do you like it?

Emma: Yes, it's reeeally lovely! I was looking forward to seeing the snowglow, but this is a magical scene too...thank you for bringing me here.

Matias: Yeah. Even thought part of our original plan, I'm glad I got to see this with you.

His snow shadow-colored eyes narrowed slowly with his calm smile.

His soft smile was so captivating that I forgot how to breathe.

(I'm not sure why...but my heart's suddenly beating really fast)

While I was trying to calm my heart down, Prince Matias reached up to his shirt—

Emma: ...Prince Matias!

Matias: Hm, what's wrong?

(I was just about to faint from how charming his expression was, and now he's stripping!)

Flustered, I turned away, but that didn't calm me down.

Matias: Miss Emma, what's wrong?

Emma: ...You suddenly started taking your clothes off and it surprised me...

Matias: I have to take them off if I want them to dry.

Matias spoke calmly, oblivious to my internal panicking.

Matias: Like I said back at the cafe, my clothes would often get dirty while I was a student. When you put mischievous boys together, chaos happens...

(...I get it now. This is something Prince Matias is used to)

(And doing this is fine for him since we're friends, despite being of different genders)

I took deep breaths to calm my heart...

Matias: Miss Emma, are you okay?

He appeared from behind me and I jolted in surprise.

Emma: I-I-I-I'm fine! So...

(This is bad. If Prince Matias keeps getting closer while radiating all that charm, I'm going to...)

I backed away hastily and ended up stumbling back onto the bed.

Emma: Ah...

Matias: ...You're not fine at all. There's obviously something wrong with you.

Prince Matias got on the bed and sat beside me.

While I looked at his worried, snow shadow-colored eyes, a long hand instantly reached toward me.

A large palm touched my forehead and Prince Matias' furrowed his brows.

Matias: You do feel a bit hot. Shall I light more lamps?

Though I was thankful for his concern, I disagreed.

(...I'm definitely blushing. I can't let him see me like this)

Emma: Please don't...Um, just leave them as is...

The way I said those words was like I was imploring him and Prince Matias stared at me.

Matias [to himself]: It's like my fantasies with my consort have become a reality.

(I was dizzy and couldn't think straight)

(...I can't avoid this anymore. I'm already at my limit. I have to be honest with him...)

Making up my mind, I looked into his snow shadow-colored eyes and opened my mouth.

Emma: I'm embarrassed! ...You're just too alluring right now...

Matias: Alluring?

Emma: Yes...My heart was already racing from how sexy you are, and then when you started undressing, I couldn't look at you anymore...

Prince Matias looked stunned and dipped his head slightly with a serious look.

Matias: ...I-I see. I...wasn't being considerate. Sorry. I'm aware that you're not like my schoolmates, but...

Emma: No, I'm sorry I can't act normally.

Matias: Miss Emma, please don't apologize. It's my fault for being inconsiderate. Besides, you're far too—

Emma: Far too...?

Matias: ...Nevermind, it's nothing. In any case, the fault's mine. ...(<_<)

(I can't tell since it's dark, but is Prince Matias feeling a little embarrassed?)

Matias: I'm not sure why, but...when I'm with you, I experience these feelings that I don't with other women.

Emma: ...I might be the same. And not just today, but when I'm with you, I sometimes get these strange feelings... Ah, do you hate it when people think about you like this?

Matias: When you say strange feeling, do you mean a "distasteful" feeling?

Emma: N-no!

Matias: Then it's okay. I don't mind if you think of me like that. Rather...

Prince Matias cut himself off and smiled happily.

That smile was filled with so much more allure than I had ever experienced before.

(My heart's pounding too fast for me to think about anything else)

(And yet it's odd how comforting it is)

For the time being, in this candlelit dream-like room, I stared at Prince Matias and forgot about everything else.

I'm never sure if I should translate 色香 as charming, alluring, or sexy

#ikepri #ikemen prince #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #matias asbrink #ikepri matias

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posttexasstressdisorder · 2 months ago

Text

One of the consequences of all this four-monitor silliness is that I decided to move the components around and dust them off. I hadn’t fired up my Heathkit AJ-11 AM/FM tube tuner in forever, because I thought it had finally died when I tried to use it last. I jostled things around this afternoon, trying to get things moved, it’s sitting in a tight space next to the HiFi VCR, which I wanted to get the dust off of.

On a whim I plugged the Heathkit back into the power strip, and hooked an RCA cable up to the old Realistic input selector, which I have goin’ to the good old Realistic mixer (dependable backups, since my Dynaco PAS-3X Preamp is inoperable for the forseeable future). The little mixer and that simple selector switch at least let me listen to music while one of my main components is off-line for...awhile.

I turned the AJ-11 on, and lo and behold , it lit up, both tuning eyes glowed green, and it was picking up my little AM station transmitter broadcasting loud and clear at 1340AM. No idea why it decided to spring back to life again, but cool that it did. Maybe my jostling had jostled the right thing back into place? Who knows? All I know is that now I can hear my radio station through the tubes, as the gods intended.

And as another little lagniappe, as it were, I have a very large and heavy, and evidently very exclusively made in Berkeley back when thing, a black case with a cast aluminum front panel, with a sine wave cut in it, and a blue LED, called a “Z-Stabilizer Line Conditioner”, which is essentially a huge line voltage “smoother-outer”, and a regulator to keep the voltage as dead-on as possible. I always thought the Dynaco sounded better when it was plugged into that thing. The only indicator it’s working was a bright blue LED, which as far as I knew went out awhile back. Like years back.

So I am re-routing wires and tucking things into place like a good hobbit and I figure what the hell I’ll plug it in and see what’s up and lo and behold, the LED on the front glowed bright blue again.

Both of these things happened this afternoon. The Heathkit/Daystrom Tuner sprung back to life, seemingly miraculously, because I remember it being deader than a doornail. I must have jostled something that made it remember itself.

And the blue LED coming back on, after years of it being out.

It's definitely cool, but kinda...disconcerting.

Is this just a bit of electronic good luck?

Or are these artifacts from that other timeline we all want to get back to so desperately?

At any rate, I have nearly all my tubes back in commission and glowin'. Hallelujah. At least I can sit and watch the tubes on the ST70 glow along with the dash-lights on the Heathkit.

I have to admit that my PAS-3X has me stymied at the moment. Actually it's more intimidated. It's all simple soldering, nothing incredibly exotic, just there will be a LOT of it. And a lot of matching of wires, measuring of wires, etc.

While I pulled the Realistic mixer out to take up the slack, and I want to get going on the final bit of work I need to do on the PAS, I'm a bit anxious to tackle it. And it's one of those things that I can't trust anybody else to do, and it's completely up to me.

That three-wafer selector switch got broken because my hand slipped while I was soldering something else. There are like 30 solder connections on those three very delicate phenolic wafers...I have to make sure the right ones get to the right RCA jacks on the back.

I've got the original build manual, but still...it's a mother of a thing to have to do, and having to do it because of my own carelessness in not realizing how close to the switch my hand was, adds an extra layer of angst to it.

I've got kiddo duty tomorrow and Friday nights, and then dinner on Saturday, but back here Saturday night. At least I've got my system patched back together enough to keep going until the PAS is back in order.

Interesting thing about the Realistic mixer is there is no EQ, no tone controls, no "loudness' control like the PAS has, and even so I can't push the output volume up over 1 or 2 before it's too loud for the building. The output signal is so clean and "live", going straight into the ST70, it's able to pump the sound out with the volume slider almost completely off. The ST70 is still one of the best power amps ever made. The fact that it was sold in its day in kit form for $99 is kinda crazy. Literally the "Hi-Fi Tube Sound for Everyman" of amps.

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50bulbs · 20 days ago

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Light Up the Little Things: Summer Lighting for Kids’ Bedroom

How to Make Your Child’s Bedroom Feel Cool, Calm, and Comfortable This Summer

When summer rolls in with its long evenings, warm nights, and restless kids, bedtime routines can easily fall apart. The sun doesn’t seem to know it’s time to go down, and neither do the kids.

Last summer, my son asked at 8:45 PM why he had to sleep when it was “still daytime outside.” I didn’t have a great answer. But I learned something that night. With the right kind of lighting, we could trick the room into feeling like bedtime even when the world outside was still glowing.

Lighting is one of those things we often set up once and forget about. But when you’ve got kids, and it’s hot, and they’re bouncing off the walls, the lights in their room can actually make a big difference.

Let me walk you through what worked for us and might help in your home too.

Start with the ceiling light Most bedrooms have one main ceiling light. For kids, keep it simple and soft. We swapped out the bright old bulb with a warm LED bulb. Not only did it cut down on glare, but it stayed cool even on the hottest days. A bonus in a room that already feels like it’s cooking by dinnertime.

LED lights also last longer and don’t waste energy, so you’re not burning more power trying to cool a room made hotter by lighting. You can find a range of gentle LED bulbs at 50bulbs that suit bedrooms of all kinds, including for little ones.

Add a lamp they can control Next, we added a small table lamp to the bedside. Nothing fancy, just one with a simple on-off button my daughter could reach on her own. The kind of light that feels soft and cozy during storytime and gives her some independence.

Letting kids control part of their routine gives them a sense of ownership. She gets to decide when to turn it off, and somehow that made her more willing to go to bed. The light is also perfect for drawing quietly or flipping through books when she wakes up early.

A good night light goes a long way Not every kid likes sleeping in the dark. And that’s fine. A small night light with a soft glow can work wonders. We found one shaped like a sleepy fox that’s now a permanent bedtime companion. It gives just enough light so the room doesn’t feel pitch black but isn’t bright enough to keep anyone up.

Some of these come with timers that turn off after a couple of hours. Others stay on all night. Either way, choose something with a soft light color like amber or warm white, not harsh blue.

You can also try portable night lights, which are great if your child wakes up and needs to head to the bathroom or just wants to feel more secure. A few gentle, rechargeable options at 50bulbs are easy to carry, cool to the touch, and safe for kids.

Cool lighting tricks for hot nights Summer heat and sleep don’t mix well. Between fans blowing and open windows, anything that keeps a room cooler is a win. We discovered that even lighting plays a role.

Heat from bulbs might seem small, but every little bit adds up in a stuffy room. LED lights, especially soft ones, don’t emit much heat at all. That means no added warmth and fewer grumbles from sweaty little humans at bedtime.

Another fun touch we added was a small strip of LED light tubes under the bookshelf. It adds a soft, magical glow that makes bedtime feel like a little event. My son calls it his “reading cave light.”

Safety checks you don’t want to skip When setting up lights in a kid’s room, safety is key. Make sure all cords are tucked away and out of reach. Skip anything with exposed bulbs that can get hot. And don’t overload power strips or plug in too many lights at once.

Stick-on lights or battery-powered options work great for small hands. They're also perfect for bunk beds, reading nooks, or any space your child claims as their own.

A bedtime story that stuck One warm night, after trying every trick to get my daughter to settle, we dimmed the lights and told a story using flashlights. We turned off the ceiling light and used just the bedside lamp. We took turns making shadow shapes on the wall and inventing stories about them.

She calmed down, giggled once or twice, and then quietly turned off the lamp herself. It wasn’t magic, but it felt close.

Now she calls that “quiet light time” and asks for it whenever she’s had a busy day.

Simple tips that work Choose soft white LED bulbs for the main light Add a small lamp for evening routines or quiet time Use night lights to make the room feel safe and warm Stick to lights that stay cool and don’t add heat to the room Let kids control some of the lights so bedtime feels easier

Lighting is more than decoration. It shapes how a space feels. In summer, when energy is high and nights stay light longer, the right indoor lighting helps kids wind down gently.

You don’t need expensive fixtures or big changes. Just a few warm, safe lights can make the difference between bedtime battles and smooth transitions.

If you're looking for gentle bulbs, safe portable lighting, or handy accessories for your kid’s room, 50bulbs has practical options worth exploring. Because at the end of a hot summer day, a soft glow in a cozy room can help your little one feel calm, safe, and ready for a good night’s sleep.

#bulbs #home decor #led lights #home #lightning

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o0-iris-0o · 9 months ago

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Luminous | Xiao x [F] Reader

Description: After months of isolation and endless work, your friend insists on taking you out for a night of music and escape. But a stranger at the bar has an offer that might take your life in an unexpected direction.

Warnings: Dark Themes | NSFW | 18+

Chapter: 7/29

V AO3 Tags Below V

< CH. 6 | CH. 8 >

Chapter 7

As I help myself to some snacks in the kitchen, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions tangles my thoughts. Xiao and I have started to get along better now that my health issue is resolved, but I still feel a sense of unease whenever he’s around. We couldn’t have gotten off to a worse start. I know he cares, yes, and I don’t think he means to do harm, but it’s clear he’s dealing with a lot internally. I suppose as long as he takes that medication, it should keep his temper subdued.

I might not fully understand the depth of his struggle, but it stirs a pang of sympathy in me—I’m no stranger to mental turmoil myself. It’s easy to dig yourself into a hole, and by the time you realize it, that hole may be too deep to climb out of alone. You look around, but everyone’s gone, worn down by your repeated false starts. Deep down, you still want nothing more than to fix things, to fix yourself, but what's the point when you’re all alone and no one cares anymore?

I sigh and shut the fridge door.

I’ll stick around for as long as I can, but if things get out of hand… well, I guess it’s back to the low-income waiting list for me. Damn, I waited so long for that apartment, too… Why does everything have to be so complicated?

As I make my way back to my seat, I hear the elevator hum behind me. Turning around, I see Xiao stepping out, holding two guns. A hint of alarm flashes through me as I wonder whether I should be concerned or not.

Approaching me, Xiao asks, “I doubt you’ve ever shot a gun before, have you?”

I focus on the firearms in his hands and answer, “No, I haven't.”

Xiao stands beside me and places one of the guns in my hand, guiding me on its proper handling. He adjusts my arms to aim forward. “Never keep your finger on the trigger,” he instructs, moving my index finger to the side of the barrel. “Unless you’re absolutely certain what you’re aiming at is something you want dead.” Clicking a small lever on the side of the gun, he continues, “This is the safety. When it’s in this position, it’s off; in this direction, it’s on. Always check.” He then lowers my arms, signaling the end of his explanation.

Motioning for me to follow, Xiao leads the way to the elevator. He presses a button for a floor I haven’t visited yet—a second basement level, it seems.

As the elevator door opens, I find that this basement level serves as a shooting range. Rows of individual booths line the room, each separated by small walls. At the far end, bright colored cardboard cutouts glow under LED strip lights.

Xiao heads toward one of the booths, and I follow close behind. True to form, he keeps me in the dark about what’s happening, but I guess I can pick up on context this time. Turning to me, he holds up his gun, explaining, “These aren’t like regular guns. No bullets, reloading, or chamber checks to worry about.” He adjusts the gun to show a metallic-looking plate on the handle, “Your elemental energy is gathered here, through your hand. You are your own ammunition.”

Turning his focus to the targets at the far end of the range, Xiao instructs, “Watch my posture.”

I study him carefully as he prepares, adopting a firm stance with feet slightly apart, back straight, and shoulders squared. Observing him like this stirs a brief flutter in my chest, but it’s abruptly interrupted by the deafening crack of the gunshot.

A sharp gust of wind bursts from the firearm, colliding with the cutout in a powerful impact of wind. Still shaken by the noise, I watch as Xiao lowers his gun and clicks the safety back on. “Your turn.”

Nervously, I step into a booth a few spaces over, noting how his shot shredded his target and those around it. His strength far surpasses my expectations. I’ve rarely used my vision for combat. This is going to go terribly, especially compared to Xiao’s performance…

Spotting an undamaged cutout, I raise my gun, hands trembling. Xiao steps in to help, adjusting my stance. “Widen your stance,” he advises, pushing my feet apart with his own. Placing his hand to my chest, he then straightens my posture. “There, that’s better.” This position feels awkward, but I’ll have to get used to it. Xiao disengages the safety and steps back, giving me room to try on my own.

Within seconds, a chilly sensation spreads across my palms, as though the plate is drawing my energy forward. Taking a deep breath, I focus on the circle at the center of the target. My finger slides down to the trigger, and I pull it.

The recoil is immediate, jolting my hands, and the resounding shot rings in my ears. I watch as a streak of pastel blue cuts through the air, leaving a misty trail before colliding with the target. I didn’t hit exactly where I aimed, but it was close. Still, it’s an embarrassing display compared to Xiao’s.

“Pretty good for your first time. Try to focus on the energy in your hands. With enough buildup, you can produce different kinds of shots. Keep going,” Xiao encourages before stepping over to his own booth to resume his own practice.

I take a steadying breath, replaying Xiao’s advice, and prepare for another shot. Concentrating on the energy gathering in my hands, I balance my aim with channeling my elemental power. The synchronized sound of both our shots echoes, and once more, the recoil pushes my hands back.

My eyes widen as a flurry of ice collides with a surge of wind, obliterating not only my target but those nearby. Was that on purpose? I glance over at Xiao just in time to catch the smirk tugging at his lips before he strolls off to find new cutouts.

—

After spending the day practicing and decimating the remaining targets, we head back up to Xiao’s floor. As we step out of the elevator, Xiao tells me, “Shenhe will be here in about an hour to get you. You should clean up and change your clothes. I’ll get you a fresh set.” With that, he heads to the second floor, leaving me waiting by the couch.

Watching him go, he enters one of the doors along the balcony. Have all the rooms been unlocked? I wonder what’s in there… A moment later, Xiao returns with a neatly folded stack of clothes, and I head to the bathroom to freshen up.

Once showered, I go on to get dressed. Sorting through the stack of clothes, I pick up the first item, a corset-style tank top with a cropped cut. Fastening the clips, I slip into a pair of underwear and secure a black, frilly skirt around my hips. The final piece is a cropped sweater. I poke my head through, and it only really covers my arms at most. Xiao’s given me clothes before, but these seem particularly nice. Did he really go out of his way to buy these?

Leaving the bathroom, I descend the stairs to find Xiao on the couch. I walk over, standing before him, and notice his lingering gaze, eyes flicking up and down my form before he leans over, retrieving what appears to be a new pair of socks and boots, knee-high with buckles. I sit down to put them on, murmuring, “Thank you, but you didn’t have to buy new clothes. You still have my old ones, right?”

“You mean the ones worn to threads? Yeah, I have them.”

Thinking back, I guess my clothes have seen better days. Most of them are from years ago, but as long as they cover me, there’s nothing wrong with a little personality. I thank Xiao again as I pull on the second boot.

Once finished, Xiao moves closer, pulling something from his pocket—a choker adorned with lace and a small gem. He fastens it around my neck, explaining, “I’ll be honest with you. This has a tracker so I can keep an eye on you. Tonight’s job might be dangerous, and I’d feel better knowing I can track you. So whatever you do, don’t lose this.” Then he hands me a thigh holster for my gun. I secure it and place my practice gun inside.

Right on cue, the elevator dings and Shenhe steps out. “Are you two ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” I reply.

“Do you have everything, Xiao?” she asks, stopping before us, eying him with a hint of puzzlement, “Are… you going dressed like that?”

“I’m not going,” He says flatley.

Shenhe’s expression twists with frustration as she drops her face into her hand. “Seriously…? I said we need everyone tonight, and that includes you.”

“I’ve made my decision,” he replies, rising from his seat. “I’ll go get the cases.”

Shenhe stands beside me, arms now crossed. I look up to her and ask, “Why do we need Xiao for the job? We did fine last time.”

She sighs, “Tonight's a big deal. Not just because of the quantity, but because of the people we’re meeting. They’re… important people, you could say,” Shenhe explains vaguely.

Xiao emerges from the lab, carrying two briefcases. He hands them to Shenhe, who makes a final attempt to convince him. “Xiao, you know we need you tonight.”

“You’ll be fine without me,” he insists.

With irritation contorting her expression, Shenhe gestures for me to join her, saying, “Come on, let’s go, Y/N.”

I quickly stand and follow her. Just as I pass Xiao, he firmly grabs my wrist. “Wait, Shenhe,” he says, stopping us. “I need you to protect Y/N with your life, you understand?”

Shenhe whips back around, snapping, “You should be doing that your-damn-self!” She then pauses, collects herself, and then adds, “Fine, can we just get this over with?”

Xiao releases my arm, and I swiftly follow Shenhe as she hastens toward the elevator.

—

Parked behind Angel’s Share—the bar where I first met Shenhe and Ganyu—I find myself seated in the front seat. The car ride so far has been silent, and I can sense Shenhe’s unease through the somber expression she wears.

“Wait here, I’ll go grab them,” she says, opening the door and exiting the car. The locks click, securing me inside, and I watch as Shenhe disappears through the bulkhead leading into the bar’s basement. Her obvious tension triggers my own anxiety, and I begin to fidget with my fingers. If Shenhe is showing signs of fear, this must be a bad situation.

Moments later, Shenhe emerges with Ganyu and Yanfei, and they all pack into the car, the strong scent of alcohol filling the small space. Glancing back, it’s obvious Yanfei is intoxicated as she fumbles with her seat buckle, muttering curses to herself. I then notice the puzzled look on Ganyu’s face. “Xiao isn’t coming with us?” she asks.

“Nope, it’s just us,” Shenhe responds, pressing her key card to the car screen.

“Oh…” Ganyu mutters, a hint of disappointment evident as she stares down into her lap.

—

A prolonged silence settles in the car as my gaze remains fixed outside the window, watching the cityscape gradually transform into residential homes. The car ride feels endless, eventually leading us to a point where buildings disappear entirely, leaving behind an unending stretch of road flanked by dark fields of grass. No buildings, no trees—just open fields beneath a sky scattered with stars, invisible under the city’s usual glare.

For a while, I notice the distant headlights of a car behind us through the side mirror. Momentarily distracted, I turn my attention back to the road, only to realize the headlights have vanished without my notice. Their disappearance sparks a slight concern; on this seemingly endless road with no turns, intersections, or exits, where could they have gone?

Amidst the darkness, a distant sight catches my attention. It resembles an estate, tiny in the distance but undoubtedly massive up close.

Breaking the overwhelming silence, Shenhe finally speaks up, voicing her distress. “I’m not going to lie, I have a really bad feeling about all this. Let’s just get what we came for and get out as soon as possible.”

< CH. 6 | CH. 8 >

#fanfiction #fanfic #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin #xiao genshin impact #xiao #xiao/reader #xiao x reader #xiao x y/n #xiao fanfic #genshin fanart #genshin art #ao3 #ao3 fanfic

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minimomoe · 3 years ago

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P r e t t y L i t t l e B i r d

Pairing: Toji x Black fem Reader

Summary : Toji Fushiguro is untouchable and unattainable. Even though he always told you he doesn’t do relationships, you have tried for years to make him yours. One day you finally understood that he meant what he said. You decide to move on from him, but of course, he won’t let you do that.

Word count: 6k

You came home from a long day at work. You had a fun job as a celebrity hair stylist in Atlanta, but it was draining nonetheless. Today's client was a fashion Youtuber who was known for crazy hair styles and today she wanted a special blend of pink and purple micro-knotless floor length braids. The hairstyle took 14 hours to complete and that was with your two assistants helping you out. You charged her $1000 dollars for the hairstyle, due to the labor and how long you stayed up for it, but the way that your body was aching on your drive back, and the amount of cramps you caught in your hand, you wished you had charged her more. Fortunately, the influencer tipped you an additional $500 dollars, which you ended up giving to your assistants to share. You know when the Youtuber posts on her other socials about the hairstyle you will be booked and busy for the next couple of weeks. That made you happy but slightly nervous. It was always a challenge when new clients brought up hairstyles that they had completely imagined or brought inspiration photos but told you how they wanted to change very little detail about it. You didn’t mind though, because it allowed you to be as creative as you liked, and seeing your clients glow after you're done with their hair always made your day.

It was a short drive from the salon you worked at to your apartment in Buckhead, but you felt as though something was wrong as you pulled into the parking lot. You checked your phone and saw that you had a missed call and text from your boyfriend. He just told you that he would not be able to make it to your dinner reservation tomorrow night. It made you sad, but you couldn’t hold it against him, knowing that you had cancelled a couple of plans with him as well because of your own job. You were only going to miss him because you haven't seen him in almost a week now. You texted him and let him know that you understood and that you can make new plans later. You headed inside your apartment after making sure your car was locked.

When you got inside you removed your shoes. You did a small stretch, touching your toes and then reaching up to the ceiling, cracking your neck then popping your back. You were really fucking sore. You turned on your speakers and “When I'm in Your Arms” by Cleo Sol started playing. You reached into your small wine cooler next to your fridge and grabbed a bottle of who knows what (it was a gift for finishing a client's hair), and grabbed an obnoxiously large wine glass. You popped the bottle and poured the wine in. It was a slight pink color, and it had a sweet but tart taste, almost like grapefruit. You swayed around to the music, feeling your muscles starting to relax.

You want to know how to hold on the low

You wanna stay, wanna flow, wanna own

You give me love and you make things roll

Make me feel something new, something old

The end of the song was approaching and you made your way over to your master bath. The main reason why you chose your apartment is because of the kitchen and bathroom. Both were white with gray accents. Your bathroom was huge, with a clear stand up shower and a deep white bathtub that looked like a bowl. It had a heated floor and a double vanity and color changing LED lights. You decided to put the lights on purple, and started to strip. Now your Bluetooth speakers are playing "Body" by Summer Walker.

You got in your shower and washed and exfoliated your body. Washing off the day's dirt felt so satisfying, and you were loving the vibe you had at the moment. You decided to soak in your tub after washing up.

"My mind my mind and my heaaarrrt," You sang with Summer.

You dipped your toe in the water and it was the perfect temperature. You tossed in a couple of lavender bath salt and slipped in. You took a deep sigh and stayed there for a while. There were no other sounds but your music and the water splashing here and there. Your phone started ringing so you activated Siri to pick it up.

"Hello, who is it?" You said louder than usual, making sure the microphone picked up your voice.

"Y/N, are you alone right now? Like, are you home?" It was your boyfriend. He used your full name. There must be something wrong.

"Yeah I just got home maybe twenty minutes ago? What's up? Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine, I just, I don't know how to say this," he sighed.

"What? Baby, you're scaring me. Just tell me what's wrong. Do I need to pick you up?" You started to panic, about to get out of your bathtub.

"No, that's not it."

You decided to stay quiet to see what he had to say, dread settling in your stomach.

"I - I don't think that this can work out anymore. I wanted to try to tell you this in person, but I won't be able to come back for a couple of days,"

You sat in shock. Is he... breaking up with you?

"I- wha-What do you mean 'you don't think that this can work anymore'? I thought that we were doing fine? I mean, you just introduced me to your family last month? We were thinking about moving to a new apartment together? Where is this even coming from?" Tears were welling in your eyes. If this was his idea of a joke, you just might break up with him first.

"I know, and I did mean those things... at the time. But, I just don't feel the same way anymore. I'm sorry for springing this on you, but I think that we should break up. You can throw out all of my stuff if you want. I still wish the best for you, and hopefully you find someone better than me soon. Bye, Y/N," and he hung up. Just like that.

"Fuck you," you said to the empty line. Tears were falling freely now, and your heart was clenching. All that time was down the drain now. Just when you thought you could find someone new to settle down with. You dipped your face underwater, only coming up when you really needed to breathe. "Duvet" by Boa started playing, and you cried even harder. Big splotchy tears that you would have cringed to see on anyone else.

I am hurting

I have lost it all

I am losing

Help me to breathe

Your intercom rang, but you ignored it. You did not want to get out of the water yet. Even though it was no longer warm, it was the only thing grounding you to the earth. Your intercom rang again, and again, and again for the fourth time. You scowled and wondered why the security person didn’t turn the person away.

You got out of the tub and drained it, drying yourself off and moisturizing with shea cocoa butter. You spritz yourself with some perfume, did the rest of your skincare, and finally decide to put on clothes. You chose a white cotton cami and short set, slipped on your bonnet and settled in bed. You didn’t even want to sleep knowing that your head would be filled with moments you spent with your now ex boyfriend. The tears were about to start again but then you heard the intercom buzz again.

“My god! Why can’t they leave me alone??”

You groaned and lifted yourself out of your plush sheets and buzzed the person in, only realizing that you didn’t check to see who it was before doing that. What if they are a serial killer, you thought.

Soon enough you heard a knock on your door, but luckily for you you had a peephole that you asked the landlord to install the previous year. When you looked in it, all you saw was black. At first you thought that the person on the other side was covering it, but then you realized it was their body. They were wearing a tight fitted black shirt. You knew that body anywhere.

“Why the fuck is he here now?” You growled.

“Open up, sweetheart. I know you’re in there,” said a muffled voice. You could almost hear his smirk.

Knowing you had no other choice, you unlocked the door and opened it. There he was. Toji fucking Fushiguro. He still looked good, even though the last time you saw him was maybe eight months ago. He still had jet black hair slightly over his eyes, emerald eyes that always looked like he knew something you didn’t, the body of a Greek god. He recently became a popular heavyweight champion in boxing, so this is the best physique you’ve seen on him. His muscles had muscles, and it was very distracting and annoying. He towered over you when he allowed himself in and when you stepped back you tripped over one of your sneakers you took off earlier.

Toji caught you at your waist, pulling you close to his body. You could smell his cologne, something woody and sweet. You almost leaned into his embrace but there was another scent that stopped you. It was very faint but made you sick either way. He was with some other girl who wore Chanel No 5, your least favorite perfume. All the wrongdoings of the man holding you came crashing down and you scrunch your nose while pushing him away to stand straight.

“What are you doing here?” You huffed, brushing yourself off. You really hated that perfume.

“A ‘thank you’ would’ve been nice, yeah know?” He said.

“Don’t answer my question with a question. What. Do. You. Want?”

"No need to get all feisty. I just haven't seen you in a very long time. I missed you," Toji stated. You rolled your eyes.

"Well I didn't, so leave." You were standing your ground, and last year you would have been proud.

See, you have known Toji for quite some time now. Years, in fact, before he became a fighter. He was the only person you have ever pined for. You stayed close to him, convincing yourself that you could be a best friend for him, and that staying around him is all that you needed. Eventually that became too hard and you confessed to him. With a sad look in his eyes Toji rejected you. You were shocked and confused but tried to play it cool. You laughed and said that it did not matter anyway and you were just happy to have him in your life.

One day you went out with your friends and had a little too much to drink and ended up calling Toji, telling him obscene things that you wanted to do with him. He later came to pick you up, and though he did not touch you when you were drunk, the next day he made his move. Since then you were one of Toji's many fuck buddies and you hated yourself because of it. You thought that one day he may be able to return your feelings, but that day never came. Whenever you alluded to you two being in a relationship, he was sure to steer you away from those thoughts, reminding you how he did not do relationships. It hurt your heart but you continued to stay by his side, afraid that if you stopped the relationship that you would stop seeing Toji, considering that you couldn't be friends anymore now that you had sex with him.

The incident that made your cup run over was the day that you caught Toji fucking another girl while coming over to visit. Whether he forgot that you were coming over or he did it on purpose is something that you never knew, nor did you want to know. Seeing the used condoms around the place and her bare back facing you while Toji moved beneath her was your breaking point. She was nothing like you, from her body shape to skin color, and you knew that you could never compete for Toji's attention, so you left. You moved to a different county, changed numbers, and removed any remnants of his presence on your social media accounts and the rest of your phone. It pained you to do so, but it was for the best. You found a new boyfriend and you thought that you can move on from Toji's antics. All that went to shit tonight.

You stood with your hands on your hips. How he managed to come back into your life at such a shitty time was beyond you, but you didn’t like it. Being around Toji reminded you of all the time you two spent, the inside jokes or soft touches. His scent was everywhere and you felt like throwing yourself at him or gagging, you weren’t sure which one you wanted to do first. Toji moved himself over to your kitchen, opening your fridge to look for a drink.

“You don’t have any orange juice?” He asked.

“No, because apple is better,” you sighed. “Toji, what are you doing here, honestly? I had a really fucked up night and I would like to be by myself. We can meet up in the morning if you need to talk, but you can’t show up to my place unannounced.” You stated. You shifted back and forth on your feet while he plopped down on your couch, holding one of your decorated pillows in his hand. It looked lille a small plushie in his grip. Was he always this big?

“I would’ve called, but you changed your number, remember?” He pointed out. You felt your cheeks flush.

“Also, you don’t follow me anymore on any social media anymore. You did a few months ago, so what happened?”

“I- I was cleaning out my following list. I have no reason to keep up with you and your life,” you stuttered.

“Ouch. So you didn’t see me become heavyweight champion? Do you ever come to my matches?”

You have thought about it many times but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it on your own. You remember one time your friend had bought tickets to go watch and even though you were higher up in the crowd, far away from the center, you felt like Toji knew you were there. Of course, he won that night as well.

“No, I don’t. I have my own life, remember?” You lied. Toji tutted and stood up from the couch to walk towards you.

“Why are you lying to me? You know I can tell. You move your ears back and lick your lips every single time. So why don’t you just tell me the truth,” he said, holding your chin in his hand.

“I went to one, but it wasn’t the championship match,” you came clean. “I have a boyfriend, and I didn’t want to follow you anymore,” you said.

“Hmm. Your boyfriend jealous of me? You can’t even follow a friend?” He asked, his eyes boring into yours.

“Why would I need to follow you? And you're not a friend.” You were trying not to back down and continued holding eye contact with him.

“Then what am I?” Toji was dangerously close to your lips.

“A mistake.” You turned away, heading over towards your counter. Toji was surprised at your boldness.

“You wound me again,” he said as he shook his head.

“Had.” Toji muttered.

“Come again?”

“Had. I’m saying you had a boyfriend. Because if you did have a boyfriend, he would be here now instead of me. You guys would be going on a date right now. You would have those cute curly braids you love with a blonde underside, wearing some type of backless dress and low heels, wearing that sparkly lipgloss you love so much from Penny,” he started. You were surprised by how much he remembered. Was he checking in on your socials as well?

“Fenty,” you corrected.

“Yeah, that. Anyway, you wouldn’t be here by yourself, at 8pm on a Friday by yourself if you did have a boyfriend.”

“How would you know that? Cuz you would be a better boyfriend?” You challenged.

You both stared at each other for a while. You never turned off your speakers, so a new song was playing, and you almost laughed at the irony of the lyrics.

And I’m sorry

I was hurting too much to know

That you were standing right there

Toji started to walk towards you again, his eyes tied to yours. “Maybe. I could’ve been,” he murmured.

And I’m sorry

I will sing this song to you

To tell you I really cared

“You don’t do relationships. That’s what you always reminded me. Time and time again,” you whispered. He was right in front of you, his hand reaching for your cheek.

And I’m sorry

When I left you all alone, girl, I

know it wasn’t fair

“You know the saying, ‘You’ll never know what you have until you lose it’? I want you back, sweetheart. I realized I really fucking hate it when you ignore me. When you try to act like I’m not a part of your life. When you try to replace me,” he whispered, holding your face in one hand and your waist in another.

Caused I loved you

He loved you, he loved you

Toji looked at you with so much emotion in his eyes. It was like he was trying to repeat what DPR Ian was singing, but couldn’t bring himself to apologize nor say that he loved you. You needed Toji to atone for all the emotional damage he put you through, or this was just going to end up fucking you over again. Just as you were about to kiss him, Chanel No 5 filled your nose and you turned your head. Toji showed that he was confused and you slipped out of his arms again.

“Toji, I can’t do this. You were just with another girl, I can smell it. How do I know you’re not drunk right now?”

“When was the last time you ever saw me drunk?” He retorted.

It’s true, and you knew it, but you were losing your resolve. Toji never got drunk. Not only would it take an enormous amount of alcohol to do that, but he likes to be aware of his surroundings and in control of his behavior at all times. You looked at him, standing up right, looking so deeply at you, you knew he wasn’t drunk.

“You don’t want me. Never have. So why change now?”

Toji looked up at the ceiling, his hands clenching and unclenching. “These last couple of months were… I just want to be around you again. We know each other better than anyone else. How could you just leave?”

You scoffed, “So, what, it’s my fault? Not the fact that you repeatedly turned me down for years? Or the fact that you’ll fuck any girl who says yes? How could I stay around you, Toji? Don’t you care about me at all?” Your voice was getting loud, and you could feel the lump in your throat and tears stinging your eyes.

“Baby, I-,” he started. “Don’t call me baby.” You cut him off.

“Y/N.”

“You need to leave. You’re not serious.”

“But I am! How else am I supposed to show you?”

You stopped. Isn’t this what you wanted? All these years, and Toji is finally giving you the attention that you craved for, so why weren’t you taking it? You wanted to, really fucking badly, but it was scary. Your tears were starting to well up again.

“Where were you, before here? What were you doing before that made you notice my absence?”

“At a promotional party for ESPN. I swear I was not with anyone that night, but you know how groupies are. This one girl wouldn’t leave me alone, climbing all over me even though I told her I had a girl-,” he stopped short.

“You have a what? A girlfriend? Are you serious right now? Go get some help, Toji.” You spewed. Toji never failed to wow you with his audacity.

“No! That’s not what I meant. I don’t have a girlfriend… I told her you were my girlfriend,” he said, looking at the ceiling again.

Your jaw dropped. Did you just hear him correctly? He told another woman you were his girlfriend, even though he hasn’t seen you in months? A large part of you was concerned, but a larger part of you was… happy?subs you were the one who needed serious help.

“You mean, you go around telling people I’m your girlfriend, even though I haven’t even looked at you for months?”

“Yeah, and it fucking sucked. So come back. Or let me come back to you,” he was walking closer to you now, his hands back on your waist. You couldn’t help but to lean into his body. You missed him so fucking much.

“Please, Y/N. You can’t run away forever,” he whispered into your neck.

The alarms were going off in your head. You’ll regret this!, your mind was screaming but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You nodded and tilted your head and lifted it up to reach his lips. A new song was playing. “Pink in the Night” by Mitski.

And I know I’ve kissed you before

But

I didn’t do it right

You gasped when he kissed you back. He was kissing you like it was the last time he was ever going to see you. You opened up your mouth more, letting him take control of the kiss. His tongue was everywhere, try to memorize your taste.

Can I try again, try again, try again?

He lifted you up and placed you on your island. Your lips didn’t leave his as started to remove your shorts. His kisses moved to your neck, and you moaned at the feeling. Your ex boyfriend never made you this breathless.

Try again, and again, and again?

“Tojiii,” you moaned. His mouth was now on your nipples. You didn’t even realize he took off your shirt. He sucked and pulled it with his teeth, making you gasp and pull his hair.

“Toji. Toji don’t make me regret this,” you whispered.

“I won’t, Y/N. I promise.” Toji looked at you, you could tell that he truly meant it this time, and you believed him.

And again, and again, and again.

Mitski's voice echoed out, and Miguel’s replaced it. You turned your head to the speakers, and it was your favorite Miguel song. You started to blush when you looked back at Toji, who also knew the song.

Sedate me

Salacious, Salty and Sweet

I’m overwhelmed by tasty

Thoughts of you

“Keep your eyes on me, baby,” Toji said as he sank to the ground, right in front of your pussy. You gasped as he removed your underwear, slipping it in his pocket. “You won’t need this anymore, yeah?” He grinned wickedly. He took one lick at your hole, then another, then another. He soon kept up a steady rhythm that had you squirming, and when you tried to pull away he just gripped your hips harder.

“Don’t run from me. You taste so fucking good,” Toji said into you pussy. The vibration made you clench your eyes shut and throw your head back. Toji smacked the side of your leg. “I said, keep your eyes on me,” he growled.

“I’m tr-trying,” you gasped, looking back at him. Your orgasm was speeding towards you. Toji had two fingers in you while he sucked on your clit. His eyes looked so dark, almost black, and you were right on the brink. He began to thrust deeper to rub your g-spot while he sucked your clit even harder.

A string of curses left your lips as you came on Toji’s fingers. “Stop! Please, stop!” You begged him, trying to pull his head away. You attempted to close your legs but bumped into his shoulders. He finally gave it a rest.

He took his fingers out of you, licking off your cum. He then placed his fingers in front of your mouth when he stood up, and you licked off the rest while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck, Y/N. Does your supposed boyfriend not fuck you good enough?” He said, bring his face close to yours.

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s not talk about him,” you murmured.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

“Right off the side of the living room,” you said. Sliding off the counter and leading the way. When you passed the mirror in the hallway you remembered that you weren’t wearing any clothes and flushed as you rushed into your room. Your bed was slightly unmade from when you were laying in it trying to sleep through your break up.

“You have such a nice place…” Toji trailed off, squinting his eyes at something. You turned to look at what he was looking at. Your eyes widened as you saw that he was looking at the picture frame next to your bed of you and your boyfriend when he took you to Disney world. He was carrying you bridal style and you both had Mickey ears on in front of the castle.

“So he was real? This boyfriend of yours?” Toji said dangerously. He turned to look at you and you shivered.

“Yea, but it’s not like—”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll fuck you so hard my cum will still be in you when you see him again,” he cut you off. Your stomach clenched. You should be scared, but all you could feel was excitement. Jealous Toji was a new look for you, and you loved it.

“Toji, you don’t—”

“Lay down on the bed,” he cut you off again. You stared at him, your body tingling. “Do I really have to repeat myself,” he said, raising a brow.

You slowly made your way over your bed, laying down on your stomach. “Face the photo,” you heard him say.

You lifted yourself up and did as he said. You looked genuinely happy in that photo with your curls framing your face and your dimples showing. Your ex told you that he wouldn’t mind getting married down in Florida, near both of your families, and the comment made you so happy.

You could hear Toji undressing behind you, and you tried to turn around to look at him. You caught a glimpse of his body and moaned. No man should look this good naked. Seeing his muscles move and stretch hypnotized you.

“Keep your eyes on the fucking photo,” he snapped. You turned away begrudgingly.

“I’ll fucking ruin you anybody else. I can’t believe that you thought that you could leave me.” You felt the bed dip as he crawled towards you.

“That bastard is holding what’s mine. You should be smiling at me like that, not him, not at anyone else,” he said low in your ear.

“You never wanted to do cute stuff like that with me,” you huffed.

“You never asked me too," he mumbled underneath his breath. You didn't hear him. "Doesn’t mean you could do it with other men,” Toji replied.

You scoffed. “You sound insane. I can’t have a relationship with you but I can’t be with anyone else?”

“Precisely. I knew you would understand,” Toji raised himself up and smacked your ass. You gasped and looked at him.

“If you turn your head around one more time I’ll blind fold you and tie you down,” he threatened.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you mumbled.

Toji ran his thumb through your folds again. To much of your embarrassment, this whole scene was making you insanely wet. You had no idea what he had planned and the fact that he was making you look at your ex was making it worse. You should tell Toji that you no longer had a boyfriend but you were also insane and wanted to see how far Toji would take it.

“You know, when you left for the last time, I gave you a month before I thought you would come back. You always did, over and over again, so I didn’t think that you’d actually move on from me,” he started, rubbing your ass.

“I had to watch you get pretty for other people, watch you get more popular on your socials, see thousands of men trying to shoot their shot with you,” he grumbled. He slipped a finger inside you and began to pump it. “But you won’t give them a chance, right? Because you belong to me. You were always mine, Y/N, nobody else's,” you moaned into the sheets as Toji continued his ministrations.

“All the other girls sucked. There were so fucking boring in comparison to you. They weren't as put together, they weren’t as smart, nor were they as pretty as you. Their lips wouldn't be the right shape or their skin wasn’t the right shade. I would stay up wondering why none of these women appealed to me, and it was because they just weren't you ,” he moaned as he pushed himself in.

You forgot how big Toji was. You couldn’t even think. He kept on filing in and out of you, and you tried to lift your hips and arch your back. Toji kept you hips in the bed, not allowing you to move. “Just take it baby, you don't need to move,” he moaned.

You were starting to cry. The pressure was just too much, and you can feel your orgasm starting to build. Toji kept a slow pace, leaning down and kissing your shoulder blades. He sped up for just a minute and you gasped and threw your head back, your bonnet sliding off.

“I hope you didn’t just get your hair done,” he murmured as he put his fingers in your scalp and pulled your head back more. You were looking up to him and he looked heavenly. “Look at the photo and tell me who you belong to,” he said on your lips.

You looked back at the photo. You were happy, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you always had a place in your heart for Toji. “I’m yours,” you whispered.

“Louder,” he said, letting go of your braids, going faster and hitting deeper.

“I- I’m yours!” You yelled.

“Who’s?”

“Yours, Toji! Only you, please!” You were about to explode.

Toji smiled at that. “Of course you are,” he smirked. And then he stopped. He fucking stopped mid stroke. You groaned and tried to reach the end yourself, but he had you pinned on the bed. You can hear him laughing even with your face in the mattress.

“Why? Why do you always play around,” you spoke, muffled by the sheets. You were still crying, but this time it was out of frustration. Toji pulled you close to his chest, your back still facing him. You placed your legs on both sides of him, and can feel how hard he was.

“Why don’t you ride it instead?” He said

“Are you going to stop me from coming again?”

“I won’t, I promise,” he said, a mischievous smile on his face.

You quickly straddled him and rubbed him between your folds. You both sighed when you reached the bottom and you shifted your hips around to make you both moan again. You stood still for a while, trying to get your bearings.

“You're so deep, Toji. I don't know if I-,”

“You can handle it. You always have,” he said, thrusting himself upwards. You gasped as you tried to hold on, but there was nothing to grab. Toji was leaning against the headboard, and you were leaning into him. He had your hands on your hips as he continuously pushed himself into you, your head bobbing to the side. You held the side of Toji’s face and gave a sloppy kiss, your mouth barely closing properly. His heavy breathing in your ears was almost enough to push you over. He then moved his hands down to rub on your slit and you started to whine.

“Toji! Toji, please, don’t stop,” you begged. You were almost there. Toji thrusted faster, his legs burning but he wanted to see you come like this. He needed to see it.

“No other man can touch you again. Do you hear me? I’ll fucking destroy them if they do. Do you understand?” He bit your ear and sucked the side of your neck.

You just hummed, unable to make a full sentence. “Answer me or I’ll fucking stop,” he groaned.

“Toji, you promised! I won't, I swear. It’s only you. I only want you,” you sobbed. A new Miguel song was playing, but you barely caught it over your own noise.

I wanna taste your sweat, force my fingers in your mouth

Fuck you like I hate you baby, I wanna sweat you out

Well, Toji is certainly doing that , you thought

“Then break up with him, break up with him and never see him again.” He had his hand on your neck now and you couldn't stop crying. This is what you wanted.

“Of course. Of course baby, just let me finish,” you sobbed. With that Toji groaned and pulled out of you. He flipped you on his back and placed your legs on his shoulders.

He spit on your pussy and you both watched him slide back inside. This is the second time he delayed your orgasm, and you couldn’t think straight. You were saying everything, anything to make Toji finish.

“Come in me baby. Please, please, please, I just want you! Make me yours, please!” You were crying even harder.

“I’ll make it fucking stick this time. No one will ever get to do this again, because everyone will see that you're full of me. All fucking mine. Right, Y/N?” He pounded into you with a blistering speed that out your previous livers to shame. You felt your stomach tighten again and prayed that he would let you finish this time.

“Pleasepleaseplease. I’m all yours, I swear,” you moaned. Toji reached down and barely grazed your clit and you exploded, creaming all over him. Toji couldn’t hold himself back after that and he came inside of you, filling you up with come. Heavy breaths filled the air as you both tried to come down from your high.

“Fuck, Y/N. Are you okay?” He placed your legs on the bed, but didn’t he move out of you. You were still crying and shaking, but you felt satiated. You were on cloud nine.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you said, wiping your eyes. Toji kissed your tears until you calmed down.

“I’m serious about being with you, and I meant every word that I said,” Toji told you.

“That man that you see in the picture, he broke up with me right before you came in. I’m single and honestly, I couldn’t really move on from you,” you admitted.

“Good, cuz neither did I. I’ll do better, I promise,” he said, kissing your face all over.

“You gave out a lot of promises today,” you chuckled, smoothing his hair back to see his eyes. They looked at you with so much love.

“I did, and I’ll make a hundred more for you if I have to.”

You kissed his forehead and rubbed his back. You were finally at peace. Toji pulled out of you and wiped you clean before getting in bed and cuddling on top of you. You stoked his head in tandem with the last song you remembered hearing, “Video Games” by Lana del Rey.

It's better than I ever even knew

They say that the world was built for two

Only worth living if somebody is loving you

And, baby, now you do

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venicebixch · 4 years ago

Text

Innocence

in this one y/n loses her virginity to Vinnie. of course there’s smut, a little angst, and major fluff. this is a longer one but might be the best thing i’ve ever written in my opinion lol. enjoy!

Vinnie and y/n lay on his bed, looking at one another. Neither of them are speaking, just scanning each other’s faces illuminated under the soft glow of the red LED lights that line his room.

The tension between them is palpable in this moment but as usual, they’re too afraid to make a move on each other, though they’re no strangers. They grew up together as childhood friends. Vinnie is a year older than her, and she’s always had the biggest crush on him but never said anything out of fear of ruining their friendship. She also wasn’t sure if he felt the same way.

When he moved to LA last year, she was devastated but tried to be understanding. But now that she’s graduated, she was finally free to follow him. She could never admit to him that he was the sole reason she decided to make the move to California, though.

But Vinnie knew. He’s always known how she feels about him but he always felt a sense of guilt over it. In some way, he sees her almost as a little sister. He’s always felt the need to protect her, to cater to her. She’s like an angel, sweet and innocent. He couldn’t strip that innocence away from her and draw her any closer than she already was to him and all his problems.

At one point last year before he moved away, he almost caved and told her how in love with her he actually is, but he never did. Instead, he found himself spiraling, trying distracting himself from her by hooking up with whoever would lie on their back for him. Girl after girl. It worked for a while but he came to realize they meant nothing to him. They weren’t fulfilling to him or what truly craved because they weren’t her - this beautiful girl laying in front of him, looking at him with those doe eyes and soft lips. The girl he feels he doesn’t deserve.

He thought his feelings for her were dampening from their time apart. He truly believed he was finally getting over her but then she called one day and told him she was coming to LA to stay and the flame that had been brewing in his heart relit and turned into a wild fire, lighting his soul ablaze again.

And before he knew it, here she is again, in his bed at midnight with one hand tucked under her face and the other between her legs. The same scenario they’ve been in dozens of times before, but this time felt different after being apart for so long. It seems the old saying is true and absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

He feels the urge to brush her face with his finger tips. His lips crave hers more than he craves air. He’d do anything right now to taste her but he holds back.

As he’s getting lost deeper in his thoughts, she notices the expression on his face. His eyes are glued to her mouth and he looks almost as if he’s in pain but she doesn’t know why.

“Vinnie?” she says softly.

His eyes eagerly flicker to hers. “Yes?” He whispers.

“Are you okay?”

Her question catches him off guard and he realizes that maybe he wasn’t hiding his feelings as well as he thought he was. He decides it would be best to lie in this moment. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

She doesn’t believe him. She scans his face looking for a clue as to what might be wrong but comes up empty handed. She considers grabbing his hand but the thought makes her heart race. What if it makes him uncomfortable?

She fights with herself before finally working up the nerve. Her unsteady hand moves from between her legs, to his that’s draped over his waist. She doesn’t grab him, she just brushes her finger tips across the back of his hand.

The moment he feels her gentle touch, he feels his body stir and curses himself while desperately trying to keep his feelings at bay. He swallows hard and looks away from her gaze.

She notices and pulls her hand away from him, now cursing herself worried that she made him uncomfortable. But she’s not ready to give up on investigating his expression. She’s sure there must be something bothering him.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Vin?” She asks again, even softer than before.

“Yeah,” he says with a low and hoarse voice.

Unsure of what what to say next, she decides to just tell him how she feels. “I missed you so much, you know that?”

His eyes meet hers again, excited to hear her say that. “I missed you too.”

She notices the change of expression on his face and takes it as a good sign, scooting a little closer to him. Before she has the time to think about it, she reaches her hand out, gently laying it on his face while running her thumb over his cheek.

He feels a warmth spread through his body and he lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. He wants her so badly.

“I was so sad when you moved away,” she whispers.

His heart skips a beat and then sinks as memories of the day he left flash through his mind. She was crying in his driveway, hands over her face as he loaded the car up. It tore him to shreds seeing her like that, but he felt he had to leave. He couldn’t stay in that place anymore, partly because he wanted more out of life than what his hometown had to offer but mostly because he couldn’t stand to be so close to her while fighting himself - fighting his depression, his anxiety, his past, his self destructive tendencies.

She knew what he dealt with and only ever wanted to help him but he left her there feeling trapped. Stuck so close to adulthood and freedom but so far at the same time. The year he had been gone felt like the longest of her entire life and she felt angry with him for running off like he did. But she pushes those thoughts out of her mind because she’s finally here with him now, and that’s what matters more than anything.

“I know you were. I’m so sorry,” he says, feeling a lump start to form in his throat.

She can tell his words are genuine and makes the bold decision to lean her forehead against his. “It’s okay. I understand why you did it. I’m just so happy to be with you again.”

“I’m happy too,” he whispers.

“Did you ever think about me?” She asks.

He considers lying but decides against it. She deserves honesty. “I think about you everyday.”

His words send a surge of happiness through her, confirming what she desperately wished to be true. “I think about you too.”

He purses his lips and draws his brows together. “Why did you stay so stuck on me?” He asks. He doesn’t know what answer he’s looking for but he felt the need to ask. He genuinely doesn’t understand why her interest in him has persisted through the years, especially after seeing him at some of the lowest points in his life.

His question was harsh to her and she feels a bit frustrated. Doesn’t he understand how amazing he is to her? Then she realizes that she’s never outright told him her feelings. How can she expect him to know what she doesn’t tell him?

And with that thought comes a moment of clarity. All this time she’s felt tortured, somehow getting it into her mind that he doesn’t love her like she loves him. And she’s sat with that feeling for a long time, letting it grow and consume her when it might not even be true.

She scolds herself, wondering why it’s taken her so long to realize this. She should just tell him. She has to. She can’t keep feeling this way. “Because I’m in love with you, Vinnie.”

His breath catches in his throat. He always knew it but to hear her say it sent him into pure bliss. He almost can’t believe his ears. He pulls back and stares are her for a moment, processing what this means and what he should say or do next.

She blinks at him feeling panic set in, hoping she didn’t just ruin their lifelong friendship with those 7 words. She opens her mouth to try to take back her sentence but before she can speak, he presses his lips to her.

They both melt into it, feeling a massive sense of relief having finally tasted each other. It felt like every moment they had ever shared together led up to this kiss.

She parts her lips, inviting his tongue into her mouth, gently swirling it around. Her whole body starts to throb in tune with her heart beat as she moves her hips to get closer to him.

His arm wraps around her, cradling her carefully as if he’s afraid he’ll break her if he touches her too hard. He feels his pants tighten below his waist, his body begging for her touch.

She starts to lift her leg to wrap around him but he stops her and pulls away from her kiss, leaving her confused.

“What’s wrong?” She whispers.

“I - I don’t know if we should… I don’t,” he struggles to find the words he’s looking for.

She shakes her head and presses her lips to his again, holding there for a minute before pulling away. “I want you, Vinnie.”

As much as he wants to fight her on this, he’s feeling weaker than he ever has for her. She wants him. And how can he deny her?

He groans and buries his face in her neck, sucking gently near her collarbone. Soft moans roll out of her throat and he can feel the vibration from her voice travel through her neck to his lips. His hand drags her leg over his waist, pressing her core against his.

He rolls her over and climbs between her legs, his mouth never leaving her neck as they start to grind against each other. Once he finally pulls away, he can see the shadow of a bruise starting to form beneath her skin where his lips were.

His guilt returns. “Are… you’re a virgin aren’t you?” he whispers.

She nods yes, afraid to say it out loud from fear she’ll scare him away. Her core is throbbing and she’s thought of this exact moment a million times before and now that it’s finally happening, she doesn’t want to ruin it.

“Y/n… I can’t do this,” he rolls back over and runs his hands through his hair, staring at the ceiling. He can’t take her innocence. He can’t turn her into the sexualized fantasy he’s very shamefully always dreamed about.

Her stomach turns, and she suddenly finds herself wishing she had lied to him and told him she wasn’t. She can’t let this moment slip through her fingers.

Without a second thought, she climbs over him, straddling him. She can feel his hard on press against her through their pants as she leans down, hovering her lips over his.

His hands rest on her hips, his thoughts torn between removing her from his lap or giving in and holding her there. He settles for the latter.

“I want it to be you, Vinnie. More than anything. Do you love me?” She asks quietly.

“Of course I love you, sweet girl.”

Sweet girl. She loves when he calls her that. “And you wouldn’t just use me, would you?”

Her question frustrates him. Why would she ask that? She should know better. He shakes his head. “Of course I wouldn’t.”

“Then take me. If it’s not you, then it’ll he another guy,” she lays a soft kiss to his lips. “One that might not even love me like you do.”

The thought of that scenario angers him more than it probably should. Of course there have been times where guys have pursued her. And each time, he’s fought the urge to sabotage their advances. And each time he lost the fight with himself, going out of his way to extinguish whatever flame some sorry guy found himself trying to kindle with her. And it worked every time.

It’s selfish of him, he knows that. He spent so much time keeping her from perfectly good guys just to turn around and deny her himself now.

He sighs and pecks her lips again. Maybe she’s right. Maybe it should be him. As much as he wishes he could, he can’t keep her in a box to be preserved forever in the state she’s in now - so beautiful and irreproachable.

If it has to happen eventually, it should be him. “Okay,” he kisses her.

A grin spreads across her face as he rolls her over to her back again, laying on top of her. He kisses down her neck, careful not to hit that same bruised spot again.

His hands slip under her shirt, massaging her boob through her bra as she tightens her grip on his arm letting out soft moans. Her voice alone makes him feel almost euphoric.

He pulls away from her and gently starts to lift her shirt over her head. She sits up to help then reaches around unclasping her bra. His eyes are glued to her chest, anxiously waiting to see what’s underneath, but she hesitates for a moment. As soon as he notices her hesitation, he looks up to her face.

She avoids eye contact. No one has ever seen her naked before and she feels vulnerable. She kicks herself mentally for this hang up, knowing it’s going to worry Vinnie about her sureness of their situation. It’s not that she doesn’t want to, she’s just shy.

And just as she expected, his brows furrow. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. It’s never too late to change your mind,” he says softly.

“I do want to,” she reassured him and finally finds the courage to expose herself to him, but still not able to make eye contact with him.

His breath catches in his throat and his cock instantly gets harder, now to the point it almost hurts. She looks even better than he had ever imagined. He’s seen her in her swimsuit before but she’s always been modest, even in the summertime. Always leaving plenty to the imagination.

“Honey, you are fucking work of art,” he says, barely able to speak at the sight of her. His words assure her and make her feel confident in herself.

“My sweet, sweet girl,” he reaches his hand out to touch her bare chest but stops himself. He should check in with her again to be sure it’s okay.

He opens his mouth to say something but before he can speak, she gives him a nod of approval. He nods in return and his hand finally meets her flesh. She’s so soft and inviting.

His touch sends a shockwave through her, making her hair stand on end. Of course she’s touched her body herself but someone else’s hand on her felt way more intense than her own hand ever felt.

He leans forward, laying her back on the bed again and gently kisses his way from her chin to her boobs, taking one of her nipples into his mouth. She instantly feels them perk up under his breath and throws her head back as she wraps her hands in his hair.

His mouth moves to her other boob, lingering there for a while before he starts to work his way down her stomach, leaving a trail of kisses behind him. Each one causes her whole body to tense, making her wetter than she’s ever been before.

He sits on his knees between her legs and grips the waistband of her sweatpants, looking up at her for the go ahead.

She nods and he slowly pulls her pants off her legs, leaving her in just her underwear. Her feeling of vulnerability kicks in to high gear now, realizing he’s about to see every inch of her body in a way no one else had before.

But before her anxiety can carry her away, he gently rubs the outer part of her legs. “So, so pretty,” he says, smiling at her. “You’re so beautiful.”

She smiles, once again feeling reassured by his words as she begins to relax. He slowly drags his hand from the outside of her leg, to her inner thigh inching closer to her core. Her heart rate sky rockets and she lets out small whimpers in anticipation of his next touch.

He notices the noises she’s making and a wide smile spreads across his face as he relishes in the fact that she’s already whining when he’s barely even touched her yet. He can’t wait to make her feel good, and can’t believe he’s so blessed as to be the only one who’s ever gotten to make her feel this way. In this moment, he’s confident in his decision to do this. He couldn’t have had it any other way.

His fingers graze her slit through her underwear, making gentle circles over her clit. She feels her cheeks flush red with excitement and her breathing picks up.

He slides her underwear to the side and touches her bare pussy for the first time, noticing how wet and swollen she is. Another smile creeps on to his face, hardly able to believe she’s so worked up for him.

His cock is hurting for release more than it ever has before but he keeps himself together, wanting to take his time with her. Willing to completely disregard his own needs, he wants this to be special for her.

He slides his middle finger into her with ease, earning the first real, god honest moan from her. The first of many for years to come, he hopes.

The feeling sends a wave of pleasure through to her chest and she throws her head back, and grabs her tits. If his fingers feel this good, she can’t wait to feel him fully inside her.

He starts pumping slowly then adds another finger as he bends down to suck her inner thigh, getting lost in the way she feels wrapped around his fingers. Before he knows it, he’s left a mark on her thigh and curses himself again for being so careless with her body.

He pulls away and pulls her underwear off, watching her for signs of hesitation or discomfort but finds none. He leans back over her, his breath lingering over her clit as she looks down at him with her face contorted in pleasure.

He can’t help but notice how pretty she looks from this angle as he opens his mouth to meet with her pussy. As soon as he makes contact, she throws her head back again and moans even louder than before. He sucks as he massages her clit with his tongue, savoring every bit of her. She tastes sweet and clean, just like he always imagined she would.

“Feels so good, Vinnie,” she moans and looks down at him again. The sight of his face between her legs sends her straight to heaven and she struggles to keep her vision straight as he slips a finger inside of her again, still working her clit with his mouth.

She gives up on trying to keep herself together and fully relaxes into him, grinding herself against his mouth as she wraps her fingers in his hair, tugging harder than she intended. He loves it, though. He wishes he could tell her to not be afraid of getting rough with him but maybe that kind of thing can come at another time. Her first time should be effortless and sweet for her.

It’s not long before she feels herself tighten and pulse around him. She’s had orgasms by her own hand but they never felt like this. The pleasure tears from her core through to her thighs and consumes her from her head to her toes. Moans escape her throat at an uncontrollable volume and she quickly starts to get lightheaded and dazed.

He keeps his pace and movements exactly as they are as she rides out her high, waiting for her to stop pulsing against his mouth and fingers before pulling away.

She only whines, unable to find the words to describe how good she just felt as he crawls back up to her mouth, kissing her. She can taste herself on his tongue.

“How was that?” he asks almost breathless from his own excitement.

“Incredible,” she responds with closed eyes. She needs a moment to gather herself again and he watches her face, smiling and mentally patting himself on the back for doing a good job for her.

Finally she opens her eyes again and starts to sit up.

“What’re you doing, love?” He asks, moving to the side of her.

“It’s your turn now,” she says softly, resting her hand on his thigh.

He chuckles, catching her off guard. She doesn’t understand what was funny.

“What?” She asks with a pouty face.

“You’re not going down on me. It’s all about you tonight,” he brushes her messy hair out of her face and kisses her again.

“But that’s not fair -“ she starts to protest.

“Shh. It’s okay, baby. I just want to take care of you tonight. We can explore that route at another time.”

She exhales and nods in agreement, secretly relieved that she doesn’t have to worry about that particular performance tonight.

He slides his shirt off and she scans his body, admiring it and all the tattoos she has yet to run her fingers across. She’s seen his posts online, of course, but it’s been over a year since she’s seen his body in person.

She notices how much he’s filled out, looking more like a man now than he ever has before. She’s surprised how much of a difference a year made for him but she’s delighted at how good he looks. He’s getting better looking with every passing day.

He stands and drops his pants. She can clearly see the outline of his hard on through his boxers and feels a bit intimidated. She always expected him to be well endowed but he’s bigger than she expected as far as she can tell.

He goes to pull his boxers down and pauses for a moment, feeling an unusual sense of embarrassment. He’s not sure why, he’s confident in his size an abilities. But something about stripping in front of her has him on edge.

Their eyes meet and she smiles sweetly at him, waiting for him to expose himself. He takes a breath and pulls them down, not wanting to keep her waiting any longer. His eyes don’t leave hers but hers can’t help but wonder.

As soon as she lays eyes on it, he notices she adjusts herself. He’s not sure if she’s uncomfortable or excited.

“Are you ready?” He asks in a low voice.

She nods, still looking at his cock before she realizes she’s staring. She quickly shifts her gaze back up to his and smiles. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He reaches in the dresser beside his bed and pulls out a condom, ready to open it but she clears her throat grabbing his attention.

“I - um… I’m actually on birth control. I got on it a few weeks ago… just in case,” she purses her lips.

“Just in case?” He asks.

“Yeah… just in case this happened with us,” she’s embarrassed to admit it but it’s true.

He chuckles, delighted that she had planned ahead. Now she can get the full experience that she deserves. He puts the condom back in the drawer and climbs back on the bed, brushing his hand across her face and kissing her again.

She lays back down and spreads her legs, inviting him into her. He moves into position and lines himself up with her pussy and then stops to savor the moment, taking a mental picture of everything he can. The way her hair is laying, the way her eyes are glued to what he’s about to do to her. The lighting in the room, the way her hand is grasping his arm, the way her tits rest against her chest. He even takes note of the subtle scent of her perfume filling the air around them. He wants to remember this moment forever, it’s one he’ll hold on to until the day he ceases to exist on this earth.

She glances up at him, smiling sweetly as he finally pushes his way into her. Her head relaxes on to the pillow as she feels herself take every inch of him slowly, filling her up and stretching her. A low groan breaks free from her lips as he bottoms out, resting there for a moment before he starts to gently thrust.

The feeling of her wrapped around him is unlike any other experience he’s had. Soft, warm, and wet. He feels the pleasure hit in waves through his whole body as he pulls back, leaving just his tip in her before bottoming out again and again and again. His legs feel weak, finding it hard to keep up a good rhythm but he takes a deep breath and gathers himself. He’ll be damned to not perform at his best right now, no matter how good she feels.

He relaxes down into her, his breath and soft moans tickling her ear and neck, sending tingles down her spine and hardening her nipples. Her arms and legs wrap tightly around him, her hands roaming up and down his back before settling near his neck as she holds him, moving with him with each thrust.

He feels better than she ever imagined, it’s almost overwhelming. She can’t control the intensity of her moans or keep her eyes open as she gets lost in the feeling, loving every part of the experience. Their bare chests pressed against each other, the way his warmth covers her like a blanket and makes her feel safe and secure.

He pulls away and hovers above her as he starts to pick up his pace, smiling as he watches her tits bounce with each of his movements wanting nothing more than to bury his face in them.

With his faster pace, she feels herself start to tighten again, the pressure building rapidly. “I - I’m cumming,” she moans as that euphoric feeling clouds her mind and sends her straight into another world where she’s only focused on the pleasure she feels.

He feels her tighten and pulse around him, getting wetter with each of his thrusts. He can’t help but let out a loud and desperate moan as he fights his own release, wanting her to finish first. Once he’s sure she’s done, he finally collapses back down on top of her feeling his own release as he fills her up.

They both lay there breathless and lightheaded. Soft and quiet whines are still leaving her throat as she attempts to catch her breath, loving the way he feels inside of her, making her warm and full.

They stay like this for a few minutes before he finally pulls out of her, rolling over to lay beside her. She stays looking up at the ceiling, processing the fact that she’s officially no longer a virgin. She’s happy about it, though. And this couldn’t have gone any better. It was more than anything she could have asked for and it was with him. Just like she always hoped it would be.

He pulls her close to him, wrapping his arms around her tightly, kissing her forehead. “I love you,” he says quietly, relieved he can finally be honest about his feelings.

She smiles as she relaxes into him with tired eyes. “I love you too, Vinnie.”

#vincent hacker #vinnie #vinnie hacker #vincenthacker #vinniehacker #vinnie fanfic #vinnie x reader #vinniehackerfanfic #vinniehackerimagines #vinniehackersmut #vinniehackerfluff

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jadequeen88 · 5 years ago

Text

Incel Tomura

I couldn’t think of a good title for this, so... I just went with something real blunt. Anyway, this was inspired by a friend and how she actually met her IRL boyfriend.

PAIRING: Incel!Shigaraki x egirl!reader

TW: face sitting, degradation, mommy kink, reader basically bullying Tomura (he deserves it)

3.2k~

AS ALWAYS MY FICS ARE STRICTLY 18+

“TCH!”

Tomura scoffed at the screen of his laptop. The Discord server he helped admin had gone to shit since he let that idiot Dabi loosen the requirements to join. It was one thing when Toga joined. He knew she was a decent gamer. But you? With those stereotypical cat-ear headsets, perfectly done make-up and short skirts? Please… He saw right through you. Just another fake ~uwu~ e-girl trying to pretend they knew what they were talking about.

It didn’t end with you being annoyingly informed in the gaming chat, either. You were always in the anime and manga chats, too… Suggesting different ones that there’s no way you actually enjoyed.

But the WORST part of you being in the server? Spamming the picture chat with selfies and outfit pics. No, it wasn’t against the guidelines and yes, you got lots of compliments (of course, you were clearly hot), but it made Tomura livid. Where there used to be pics of half-built PCs and screenshots of character upgrades, now there were endless pictures meant to tease and bait the guys in the server.

Today’s picture is what sent him completely over the edge. Your hair was put up in two messy space buns, signature pink cat-eared headset perched on your head. Your black, mesh top was straining against your tight, hot pink bra, barely hiding your cleavage and your slender neck was adorned with a chunky, black collar with a large, silver ring hanging from the front. The icing on the cake, though… the thing that broke him, was the face you were making. Eyes crossed, little pink tongue lolling past your perfect hot-pink lips, it was an obvious ahegao face. The caption read:

“New collar! Thank you for da gift @XxXknifey_wifeyXxX”

Followed by a bunch of annoying ass emojis.

Tomura shifted in his gaming chair, his growing bulge making his sweats tight. He gritted his teeth and opened his DMs…

******

You snickered as you opened your text chat with Dabi. Poor Tomura… He had no clue his friend was an old high school buddy of yours and sent screenshots every single time he bitched about your presence on the server. At first, it was just a couple of snide comments, but you quickly decided to turn it into a game. You’d add more emojis than you normally would, flirt shamelessly with Toga in the chat, and be very vocal with your opinions. Then it progressed with more and more selfies, pics showing off your new skirts, and pics of your pink, girly gaming setup. Today you pushed it with the ahegao face, you’ll admit. It was pretty out of character for you, but you couldn’t wait to hear about Tomura’s reaction from Dabi.

It was everything you hoped it would be:

Decay_666_

So can we give those bitches their own chat or what? Seriously, I’m sick of seeing their shit everywhere. Did you see her ahegao face selfie? This server was supposed to be for ACTUAL gamers, not fake e-girl sluts spamming the chat with their bullshit…

Cremation_Daddy

Lol, damn dude, calm down… we can make a separate chat. You’re the only one on the server complaining. Y/N really fucking you up that bad?

Decay_666_

Oh, fuck off… she’s just being an attention whore and it’s getting on my nerves.

Cremation_Daddy

Yeah, whatever you say. Prolly jerkin it to that selfie right now

You didn’t know why, but you kinda had a crush on the skinny loser. Knowing how worked up he’d get over the smallest things you did thrilled you. You wanted to know just how badly you affected him and today was the day you’d find out.

*****

Tomura heard a ping from his monitor alerting him to a new DM. expecting it to be Dabi giving him more shit, he scowled and clicked over to his Discord tab. When he saw that it was you DMing him, it was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head. He could barely type he was so nervous.

Y/N

Hey :)

Decay_666_

Y/N

How did you like my new collar?

Tomura panicked. Had Dabi said something? There’s no way he’d do that. How did he even respond to that? He decided to feign ignorance.

Decay_666_

What collar?

Y/N

*image*

He audibly gasped. You sent him the selfie you’d posted in the chat earlier. Somehow, it was even hotter than the first time he’d seen it. Probably because you had sent it to him. You wanted to make sure he saw it. The thought alone made him painfully hard. He typed out a shaky response:

Decay_666_

Yeah… you look really pretty :)

He grimaced. He couldn’t think of anything clever when he was put on the spot like that. Plus, how long had it been since he’d spoken to a girl one on one? Much less a hot one? Never. That’s when.

Y/N

Aww, you’re so sweet :) wanna see it in person?

Now Tomura was wondering if he’d died and gone to heaven. Did she want to meet up? Wearing that fucking collar? There’s no way… He stared at the screen for a good ten minutes before another ping brought him back to reality.

Y/N

I’m free now if you are. Plus, there’s a new episode of *insert favorite anime* out and I didn’t wanna watch it alone.

Decay_666_

Yeah. Sure.

His response was almost uninterested but inside he was panicking. When was the last time he showered? How much time did he have to get ready? Did he even have any clean clothes? He leaped from his chair and ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Another ping rang out and he raced to check his DMs to see that you’d sent your address. To his surprise, you only lived a short walk from him. Another jolt of excitement shot through his spine as he quickly responded.

Decay_666_

Be over in 30 :)

He turned on the shower then started picking through his pile of clothes finding the ones that smelled the least offensive. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous and excited at the same time.

*****

Tomura shifted from one foot to the other, nervously scratching at the side of his neck. He caught himself before the skin there broke and he ended up having to deal with a bloody neck on top of already being a nervous wreck. He’d only been standing outside your apartment for a minute or two, but it felt like an eternity. He kept checking his phone to distract himself. Just as he was starting to question if this had been a good idea, the door flung open.

His eyes widened and his mouth turned into a thin line. You answered the door in a fucking towel. He began opening and closing his mouth like a fish that had been plucked from the water. You giggled innocently like it was perfectly normal to answer the door nearly naked.

“You’re here a little earlier than I expected! I just got out of the shower. Come on in,” you moved to the side to give him room to walk through the door into your small apartment. You were sure to not move completely out of the way so he’d have to almost brush against your chest. You could feel him stiffen and hold his breath as he passed by.

This was going to be so much fun…

*****

Tomura’s dick had been painfully hard the moment he’d seen you in that towel. Luckily, when you’d gone into your bedroom to get dressed, he was able to position it in his waistband so he wouldn’t be pitching a tent in front of you. The thought of you noticing him popping a boner just by looking at you in a towel was mortifying.

However, what you decided to change into didn’t help his situation. Your baby pink terry cloth shorts would have shown the curve of your ass had it not been for the little row of ruffles around the bottom. Your tank top, the same baby pink color as your shorts, was pulled tight across your chest (holy shit, were you not wearing a bra?!). A fleeting glance at your chest proved to Tomura that you definitely were not wearing a bra.

“You can come on back,” you beckoned from the doorway of your bedroom, “I thought we’d be more comfortable in here…”

He gulped and rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans before nodding and rising to walk towards you. Your room was foreign to him. Decorated with all shades of pink and purple, soft, plush bedding, and a soft pink glow emanated from the LED strip lights that lined the walls. Tomura stood awkwardly, looking around for a chair to sit in when you flopped onto your bed and began pulling up the streaming app on your tv.

You looked up at him sweetly and patted the spot on the plush comforter next to you. “Come sit, Tomu! You don’t have to stand way over there. I don’t stink, ya know,” the wink you gave him made his knees buckle.

“Umm,” he chuckled nervously, “No, of course not. You, uhh… you smell…”

No, you were way too close. This was bad. There’s no way he would be able to string together a coherent thought, much less hold an actual conversation with you. You pout and lean in even closer to him.

“Tomuuuuu!” fuck, he hated that he loved that stupid nickname, “You think I smell?!”

“What?! N-no, not at all. I was trying to say that-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you tilted your head to the side offering up your neck for him to smell and he swears his eyes crossed as he tried to absorb what was happening.

“I even wore my new perfume! Go on, smell. Tell me what you think,” you smirk looking out of the corner of your eye.

Fuck.

You were teasing him, he knew you were, but his dick was so hard that he was completely at your mercy. He leaned in to take a tentative sniff and his eyes wandered lower. His breath hitched when he noticed the outline of your hardened nipples peeking through the thin material of your tank top. Before he knew what was happening, you turned your face forward and put your mouth next to his ear.

“Are you looking down my shirt, you pervert?” you purred. Tomura made some sort of incoherent noise and pulled away.

You laughed and pushed his shoulder playfully, “Geeze, I’m just kidding! You’re wound so tight.” you pause making a thoughtful face.

“Oh, I know how to help! Come on, over here,” you pulled him between your spread thighs and proceeded to rub his shoulders, working out all of the knots in his lean back.

After a few seconds, Tomura began to relax into your touch, slumping slightly and letting out a tiny sigh. He was deathly still the entire time you massaged him. He was terrified if he moved too much that his raging boner would free itself from his waistband. When your hands left his shoulders, he started to move away just to be pulled back into your lap. His head landed in your cleavage as your hands trailed down his chest.

“Hmm, so tense, Tomu,” you whispered into the crown of his hair, “Is my massage not working?”

He wanted to yell that of course he was tensed up. That his dick is the hardest it’s ever been in his life and if he doesn’t hold as still as possible, he’s scared he might start humping the air like a pathetic dog. Before he can answer, your hand trails down to the waistband of his jeans, and he freezes. The tips of your fingers brush across his leaking tip and Tomura lets out a low, needy moan before he can stop himself.

“Just what I thought,” you purred as you began to trail your fingers up and down the hard bulge in his jeans, “Pathetic. Look at you, so fucking hard for me. And all I did was rub your shoulders.” He wanted to defend himself, but all he could do was whine as his eyes rolled in the back of his head while you continued touching him through his jeans.

“And to think, I never thought you’d want anything to do with some fake bimbo like me. Because I only game and watch anime for attention, right?” you squeeze his cock through his jeans, causing him to yelp. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself, incel? Wanna tell me why your dick is this hard for me if I’m so annoying to you?”

The realization that Dabi had told you everything flitted through the back of his mind, but he didn’t have room in his brain right then to be mad at him. He had to do whatever he needed to do to keep you touching him.

“I, ahh... I’m s-sorry,” he stuttered pathetically. The front of his jeans was wet from your teasing and the denim was rubbing him raw through his thin boxers, “D-didn’t, fuck, didn’t mean it like… ahh, l-like th-that.”

You loved how easily you could wreck him. You pet his hair back from his sweaty brow as you cooed at him lovingly.

“You know,” you removed your hand from the front of his jeans and he whined from the lack of friction, “You really hurt my feelings, baby. I thought you were so cool and the whole time, behind my back, you said just mean things about me.”

He sat up and turned to face you. His pathetic, needy gaze shot straight to your core. The power you held made you drunk and you desperately wanted more.

“No, no no no…” he grabbed your hands and you realized how clammy they were, “I’m-I’m so sorry. Please! Please…”

“Hmm,” you studied him for a moment, “Well… There might be a way you could make me feel a little better.” you tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, “You were so mean to me.”

“Anything! Please! I-I’ll do anything for you!” desperation started creeping in, thinking you’d leave him hanging with no relief. Little did he know, you had no intention of letting him go any time soon. Your plush lips curled into a devious smile. A soft hand reached up cupping his jaw.

“What a good boy, Tomu,” a tremor passed through his body. You reached over to your nightstand and pulled out the collar you’d taken the selfie in.

“You know,” the collar danced between your painted nails, “This also came with a leash. I was thinking,” your lust-filled eyes meet his, “If you wanted to be a good boy for me… You’d let me see how pretty it looks around your neck.”

Tomura hesitated, his eyes rapidly moving between your eyes and the collar you held. After a moment of consideration, he nodded. You giggled and clapped your hands together excitedly leaping off the bed. You returned with a short, chain-link leash.

“Now,” you leaned in and fastened the collar around his neck. Your bodies were centimeters apart and Tomura thought he might pass out, “When you’re wearing your collar, you don’t call me Y/N,” you nudge his ear with your nose and whisper, “You call me ‘Mommy.’ Do you understand?” you feel him nod against your face.

“That’s not how good boys answer their Mommy. When you answer me, you say, ‘Yes Mommy’ or ‘No Mommy.’ Is that clear?”

“Y-yes… Mommy.”

“Mmm, what a good boy,” you placed a soft kiss on his neck and he let out the most delicious whimper. You hooked a finger through the ring on the front of the collar, “You’re gonna go sit in Mommy’s gaming chair and let her use you as a toy. Okay?”

Tomura’s head was spinning and he almost couldn’t answer until you jerked him by his collar, “Y-yes, Mommy. Please, please make me your toy.”

You stood and dragged him over to your chair and made him sit, “What a polite boy you are! Saying ‘please’ without being asked. If you keep that up, you just might get a reward,” his belt buckle rattled as you worked his jeans down his narrow hips.

A ragged breath escaped his chapped lips as you removed your tiny shorts revealing a black, lace thong. You straddled his lap, your dripping slit hovering a centimeter over the angry, leaking head of his cock. His hands shook as you placed them on your hips and slowly moved your thong to the side. Descending an inch at a time, only teasing his tip, was causing him to come undone underneath you.

“You’re already so close and I’ve only put the tip in. You better be a good boy and not come until I tell you to or you’re going to be punished,” you pushed another couple of inches inside and he nearly wept.

“I-I’m trying, M-mommy! I wanna be a good boy!”

“Mmm, I know, baby. You’re doing so,” another inch, “So…” and another, “Well.” you were fully seated on his cock now. Tomura knew he wouldn’t last. Your velvet walls were sucking him down harder than anything ever had before. It made his fleshlight feel like it was made of sandpaper. You had ruined him for anything else.

With a few rolls of your hips and some high, airy moans, he was about to bust. “Mommy! Mommy, please! I-I’m g-gonna…”

“Tomu,” your voice was authoritative now, “If you come in Mommy’s pussy, I’m going to make you clean it out with your tongue then I’m going to sit on your face until I come as many times as I want.” your hand wrapped around his throat and you started bouncing on his cock. Your filthy words and aggressive motions catapulted him into an orgasm.

“You bad, BAD boy,” a smack to his cheek broke off his moans, “You disobeyed me! Did you do that on purpose?” your hand around his neck flexes, “Are you just a dirty incel that wants Mommy to get mean with you? Answer, Tomu!”

“Yes, Mommy!”

“Tell Mommy what you are…”

“I-I’m a-a… dirty incel.”

“And what do you want?”

“W-want… want Mommy to b-be mean to me…”

You lift him by the collar and attach the leash. He’s thrown onto the bed and you waste no time hovering your dripping slit over his face.

“Now,” you jerk the leash, “Clean up your mess.”

Tomura knew he should be disgusted right now, but his dick was getting harder by the second. With each lick inside your sloppy hole, he shamelessly moaned against your skin. The vibrations were going straight to your clit, causing you to ride his face harder. This went on until you’d almost reached your peak.

“Oh, baby,” you’re making Mommy feel so, so good, “I-I’m gonna…”

Tomura grabbed your ass and moved you back and forth on his face as he sucked your clit into his mouth. Your orgasm hit hard and fast. You lifted your body giving him a moment to breathe before sitting back down, earning a startled mumble from him.

“Don’t think that’s all,” you laughed and humped his face, making his eyes roll into the back of his head, “Be a good boy and mommy might even let you come…”

Tomura only nodded as he began to eat you again like he was starved. Maybe all the stuff you posted in the Discord server wasn’t so annoying anymore...

#Shigaraki #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x you #bnha smut #tw // mommy kink #tw degradation #tw face sitting #jade writes smut

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koishua · 4 years ago

Text

♪ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. ♪

pairings: sim jaeyoon x fem!reader.

genre: pure angst, songfic.

word count: 1.1k.

warnings: themes of falling out of love, implied major character deaths and suicide (and its overall just a puzzle of a trippy story kinda?? nothing related to gore or violence though!!)

notes from vie: guys. don't let this flop besties. it's my new hymn for the missing hahaha i love it as much as that old kun fic. anyways, idk why this got buried in my drafts for so long, so here you go.

i love hearing your thoughts about my fics, be it in your reblogs or in the replies, so do leave feedback if you're up for it <3 otherwise, hope you enjoy!

listen to 'one more night' by demian for the full experience please!!

taglist: @junityy @igyus @intokook @leavethemonsteralive @iuwon @envirae @fairyjunn @rutosruru-world @daystiny @luvholicz @imdamconfused @renjunvrse @honeyseungz @dweio @rae-blogging @ikigyus @enhyseob @jitaros @jdyunvrs @yunntext @yourlocalhotgf @strwberrydinosaur @mark-lees-world @beomgyuv @chileangring4 @99swinwin @jakeycore @99outros @heejojo @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @strqyverse @tyongishs @jiminisyourangel @yutaalove @yangianwon @icywhatim @sunshine-skz @hwallswrld @twntycm @sooblvr @injanggarden @whoe-dis @thegracerammy @k2oi (click here to be added)

There is something eerily peaceful about a night without stars splattered in the far and wide distance to decorate the blanket of darkness, lit only by the moon drowning behind the wisps of ashy clouds. It doesn’t bother you much, though.

He’s with you, that man. He’s right here on the seat next to you, the steering wheel in his hands, heart in yours. He’s here, stripped of his labels and titles, laid bare and clean in front of you, wholly himself and not an image of what everyone else thinks he is when he wears his mask and shield of defiance and authority.

He’s here alone, together with you and so heartbreakingly broken in his essence. He sits on the leather seat, the back of his head resting against the cushion.

One more night, for all our lies.

“I love you.” It’s a beautiful sort of deception, one for the both of you who desperately cling onto any remains of what once had been. It’s there to fill the growing silence, to attempt to close the distance of where you stand, so far away from him and out of his reach.

“I love you too.” He stays numb even when he says those four words, defeat crawling up his skin, biting into it like the cold that creeped up on the edge of the cliff you are perched on top on, the crashing of the waves heard loud and clear. He says it so quietly, words engraved with a dreaded acceptance.

One more say, to close our days.

“I love you.” He blurts it out first this time, just barely holding onto the quiver in his voice, begging his vocal chords not to fail him this night. It’s not the easiest of tasks, though he manages to get those three flowery words out again like a broken recorder.

“I love you too.” You gulp the burning guilt down your throat, feeling parched and drowning at the same time. You feel as though you are drenched in all of the vile things in the world, acid dripping out of your lips like it’s nothing. You wonder if he is hurting more than you are. He probably is in an agony much deeper than yours, you come to realize with a heavy heart.

If I’d be ‘him and you’d be ‘her.

“You’re my moon.” It’s your turn to say something, if only to feel something again. His eyes are trained on the glow that filters through the dreary and hopeless night sky with an ironic smile on his lips. He supposes this isn’t the worst it could have been.

“You’re my sun.” He follows your lead, delivering a sting far more effective than a slap on your face could have ever been. You take your time to digest it, a breathless and humourless laugh escaping your throat without your own consent. It hurts more, because you are aware that your pain is nothing compared to his.

It won’t be hard, the last.

He is your moon, only there when you need his comfort and feel the drape of his peace in times when you are aching. He is just a moon, a fragment of the galaxy that would forever remain insignificant. You are his sun, a raging fire that burns him the closer he gets.

You paint him red and black with your heat and grey as he dissolves into ashes, flames engulfing his being when he dares take a step closer to you, to love you more. You are the sun and yet all he feels is the chilling burn on his skin anytime he wraps his arms around your frame.

One more day for all our times.

“I need you.” He whispers one more time, palm cupping the side of your face and angling his body to face yours. His heart quivers when he feels you nuzzling into his hold, still oh-so madly infatuated by your expressive eyes that look at him, mirroring the tear in his soul. You’re hurting just as much as he is. Why?

“I don’t.” And it crushes you to say those words at him, not that it ever could ever match his rueful gaze, heart far too battered to shed any more tears. He leans in, closer towards the sun and willing to let his wings melt off as if he is Icarus himself, closer to graze his chapped lips on your softer ones. He doesn’t know if he’s freezing or burning, oddly enough.

Why aren’t you pulling away?

I know we’re gone, but ‘gones’ are priceless.

“I miss you.” He reaches his hand to caress your hair gently. You look away, “I’m still here.”

He deflects, “No, you are not. I miss you.”

Ah, there it is, another crack on the glass. He misses you, the one that is gone with the wind. He misses the you that is no more, yet loves the you that remains just as much. He is puzzling and yet, as open to read as your favorite book. “I miss us.”

Be brightly sad, leave this mess.

He smiles and so do you, his light far too contagious not to mimic despite the roar of the engine you note hearing as you get lost in his eyes. He has pretty ones, you know, but the spark isn’t there to twinkle at you anymore. “Let’s be happy again.”

You stare at his hands on the wheel, thinking back on the life you had led so far. It’s not hard to accept, nothing ever has been. And so you nod, reassuring him as his foot presses on the pedal, shifting gears, “Okay.”

Warm my name, the last.

“Let’s try again.” You breathe in, looking at the moon that was finally uncovered for one final time, listening to the crashes of the waves beneath the cliff that seem to be getting closer and closer.

“Let’s be happy again, Jake.” He smiles, pure, lips stretching into a wide grin as the edge comes closer and closer the more he presses on the pedal, speeding. It’s there, the edge, he notices.

He looks into your eyes one last time and then you’re soaring far above the merciless waves for a few peaceful seconds that feel like an eternity. One more night, for the last time in this broken and shattered world.

for eternity in your next.

#enhypennetwork #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen jake angst #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen writing #enhypen writings #enhypen #sim jaeyun #sim jake #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen jake

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50bulbs · 26 days ago

Text

How Changing the Lights Made Mornings Easier

https://50bulbs.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/07/3170411730.webp

Last month, I finally decided to fix the lighting in my bathroom. For years, I had been putting up with a single overhead bulb that flickered and gave off harsh, cold light. Mornings felt rushed and stressful — the glare made it hard to see clearly when brushing my teeth or doing my makeup. Even worse, the space felt dull and uninviting.

One weekend, I took a little time to rethink the bathroom lighting. I wanted something simple, practical, and warm — a lighting setup that made the bathroom feel fresh and comfortable, especially on those early mornings when I was barely awake.

Here’s what I did, and what you can try too.

Start with the Right Bulbs

The first change was swapping out the old bulb for a warm LED bulb. LED bulbs use less energy and last longer than regular bulbs, but what really mattered was the warm light color. It gave the room a soft, natural glow that wasn’t harsh on my eyes.

Warm LED bulbs are great for bathrooms because they mimic natural daylight but feel gentle. If you want to see good options, check out 50bulbs where they have many styles perfect for bathroom lighting.

Add Light Around the Mirror

Next, I focused on the mirror. I realized the overhead light wasn’t enough for tasks like shaving or applying makeup. Installing light tubes or LED strip lights around the mirror brightened my face evenly without harsh shadows.

These light tubes use LED technology, so they stay cool and don’t add heat to the bathroom. They also save energy and make the space look modern and clean.

If you’re thinking about upgrading your mirror lighting, 50bulbs offers easy-to-install options that suit most bathrooms.

Use Layered Lighting for Flexibility

Instead of relying on one bright light, I added smaller lighting sources. A combination of ceiling bulbs, mirror lights, and a small portable LED lamp gave me control over the brightness.

For example, at night, I can use the portable lamp for a soft glow that’s easy on my eyes but still bright enough to get ready without waking others. Layered lighting helps you adjust the mood depending on the time of day and task.

Don’t Forget Lighting Accessories

Adding a dimmer switch was a game-changer. It lets me adjust the light intensity quickly, perfect for early mornings or late nights. Motion sensor lights near the door are also useful — they turn on automatically when you enter and switch off when you leave, saving energy.

Accessories like these are affordable and easy to add. You can find them along with bulbs and lighting fixtures at 50bulbs.

Why Choose LED Lights for Your Bathroom

LED lights are ideal because they don’t get hot, which keeps the bathroom cooler and safer. They’re also moisture resistant in many designs, so they work well in humid spaces.

Switching to LED bulbs and tubes improved my bathroom experience dramatically. The space felt brighter, cleaner, and more welcoming — which made those hectic mornings a little easier to handle.

Final Tips for Better Bathroom Lighting

Choose warm LED bulbs to keep the space cozy and natural-looking.

Add lighting around mirrors with LED light tubes or strips for even, shadow-free light.

Layer your lighting with ceiling lights, mirror lights, and portable lamps for flexibility.

Use dimmers and motion sensors to save energy and create the right mood.

Look for moisture-resistant LED options to last longer in humid bathrooms.

Upgrading your bathroom lighting doesn’t have to be hard or expensive. Small changes like swapping bulbs and adding mirror lights can make a big difference. If you want to explore bulbs, light tubes, and accessories, 50bulbs is a great place to start.

#bulbs #home #lightning

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shreddedparchment · 5 years ago

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A Wife for Thor Pt.12

Queen of New Asgard

12/02/2020

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 9,737

Warnings: fluff, cute babies, talks of pregnancy, angst, Avengers shenanigans, talks of sex

A/N: So this one is a bit longer than the rest, I really wanted to make sure that this one was a lengthy treat. I didn’t want to split the chapter into two between getting to the Avengers and then actually meeting them and spending tie with them. I wanted to keep it together. I hope you all like it! I had a lot of fun with it, and mostly, I just really love Thor. I want him for myself. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on other sites or blogs!

REBLOGS are always welcome!

To say you’re a mess would be an understatement.

At least having Thor by your side gives you a small sense of stability, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re about to meet the Avengers.

Earth’s mightiest heroes.

People so famous that everyone knows their name. Even people in remote parts of the world know they exist.

The sensation of being pulled and gliding through the air in Thor’s arms as the Bifrost glow surrounds you both in your transport is nothing compared to the rolling of your stomach at the thought of saying or doing something stupid in front of Thor’s friends and comrades.

You hold him tighter, loving the way he feels in full armor. Only because it really drives home the fact that he could protect you from anything as opposed to being comfortable.

You’re dressed more simply though not at all casual. The outfit you’re wearing was shoved into your bag with two others in case of official events that might crop up during your honeymoon.

Because dinner with Thor’s teammates is supposed to be a relaxed event, you chose the most unimpressive of the three.

The bodice consists of a one-piece made of leather. Armor would be more accurate in describing it. Though bits of it have been dyed a dark yet also soft gray-purple, others, like the right breast piece and the strip that wraps down around your left side are a natural brown. Textured with a ridged design to compliment the thinner more boned design of the gray-purple section.

Around your waist and laced at the back is another a-symmetrical piece of that natural brown leather, but along the base of it is sewn a long flowing skirt made of a cotton voile base in navy and a sheer silk light blue making the effect of it together like shifting water.

The skirt is left open slightly on the right. If anyone pays really close attention, they’ll see the top of your thigh in the sway. Generally, the dress is appropriate and since this will technically be your first public outing with Thor, it was important you look the part.

Neither of you is wearing a crown. Not necessary really, if it isn’t an official ceremony or event, but you are wearing the large golden pin that Thor had made for you to put on the left breast of your sleeveless gown.

It’s the same interlaced arches that are on your swords with a crown that looks just like your wedding crown at the center where the arches connect.

It shines bright, brand new as it is, and is a symbol of your new status in the world.

A human Queen of Asgard.

It’s safe to say that your name is known from one corner of the Earth to the other which you only just realized when you were doing some research on the time it takes for a body to decompose in a demi-damp environment occasionally exposed to heat. You’d stumbled across a tabloid page with the headline How the New Queen of Asgard Bewitched the God of Thunder.

You hadn’t bothered to read the article because it was clear exactly what kind of reporting they were doing from the picture of you, which someone had pulled from the website of your old school, sitting on Thor’s chest with a photoshopped smirk and glowing red eyes.

There were a few others you read, most of them nice and from official news sources. All of them detailing your tragic childhood and your ascension to wealth. Then your birth ancestry was exposed making you a top candidate for Queen of the Asgardians and in one article for the New York Times, you recognized the pictures of your wedding as you and Thor stared at each other in all of your enamored glory.

Anyone with eyes can see that you love him and in those pictures, you can admit that it helps you feel a bit more secure in Thor’s love to see that he’s looking at you the exact same way. How can he look at you like that and not love you? Or at least be really fond of you?

As the air gets colder, mushy gray snow lining the streets below you, Thor’s body pulls up, preparing to stand as his speed slows.

You feel him step onto the pavement before you do, then slowly he lowers you, large hands so careful with you that you can’t help but look for his eye to see what he might be feeling.

His eyes are not on you though. They’re on the crowd that’s slowly begun to gather.

They’re giving you a wide berth, but they’re stopping to look, and some have pulled out their cell phones to take photos or record video.

You can hear whispers shift through the cold New York winter air, people leaning over to each other in excitement and curiosity. Much like the crowd back in New Asgard had when you’d driven by them to get to your dress fitting and the wedding parade.

You can’t really make out what they’re saying but Thor can, and he wraps his arm around your waist, turns you to face those that are nearest, and waves.

You follow his example and give them as kind a smile as you can, despite the sudden nerves eating at you.

Shit, do you have to say something? Are you expected to?

“Hello everyone. I know most of you have seen her in the papers and on the interwebs already, but this is my beautiful and lovely Queen. My wife, Y/N.” Thor declares, but even your name he caresses with the soft shift in his tone.

“Hello?” You don’t mean it to come out as a question, but it does.

Still, there are a few people that giggle at your reaction.

A sense of calm overcomes those watching, as if finally hearing you speak seems to have burst a bubble.

“Aw yew a pwincess?” A small hand tugs at your skirts and you turn to look down at an adorable little girl with smooth deep brown skin. Her hair is gathered in two small buns, tight braids keep it neat.

All you can really see are her big brown eyes, so wide and full of wonder.

You pull from Thor’s grasp and squat down to be on the toddler’s level. She can’t be more than three.

“She’s my Queen, little one.” Thor explains, squatting down beside you. “Queen of New Asgard. Isn’t she pretty?”

The little girl giggles and nods, then reaches up to touch your own hair which has also been braided, one long in the middle giving it a mohawk look, and several other small braids along the sides to keep it neat while flying.

At least that’s the bit that you remember from this morning.

Thor had pulled you out of bed at four o’clock, led you to a chair in the bathroom and then started messing with your hair. Of course, that sent you right back off to sleep but you remember asking him sleepily at some point why he was braiding your hair and he’d explained that it was to keep it from getting all messy while flying.

That’s the last thing you remember before he was suddenly kissing you awake and then your mind was busy with the delicious way he carried you back to bed and then heartbroken when he said you had only ten minutes more to sleep while he showered.

You’re so tired.

Smiling at the little girl, watching her own joy grow in her eyes gives you new energy and you take her hand and hold it in your two.

“It’s so lovely to meet you…?”

A woman hurries over from the crowd, voice frantic as she seems to have finally spotted her little escapee.

“RUBY!” The poor mother cries, hurrying to her daughter’s side.

“Ruby,” You repeat.

The little girl turns to look at her mother while you keep hold of her hand.

“Wook mama! A Ka-ween!” She giggles and her mother slows, hesitating now that she notices you and Thor.

“Holy shi-” Her mother says, “I’m so sorry.”

Hurrying forward, she takes hold of Ruby’s shoulders and pulls her close, not because she’s threatened by you two or anything. She must be shocked.

You let her hand go as it’s pulled gently, and Thor helps you stand back up. Once you’re standing, he reaches down to take hold of your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“It’s okay.” You shake your head, smiling at the woman as Ruby turns to hug her leg excitedly. “She’s very sweet.”

“She’s a troublemaker. That’s what she is.” The woman counters. “D-Do I have to curtsy or somethin’?”

“Not this time.” Thor tells her, “For having such an adorable child, we’ll give you the curtsy pass.”

He’s joking. Teasing the woman.

“Thor…” You nudge him and he chuckles, amused by you more than his joke. “What he means to say is, yes. Normally you would have to, but he knows I’m already nervous out of my mind so it’s okay.”

The woman looks around behind her, aware of the flashing camera phones and the videos they must be taking. So, she turns back to you and clumsily makes a curtsy.

Little Ruby sees her do it and then turns to you and does an even clumsier version of the same bow.

“Thank you.” You manage to say, voice almost completely deprived of volume from how nervous her attention makes you.

“Yes,” Thor agrees, suddenly serious. “Thank you. Both of you, for the warm New York welcome.”

“It was nothing.” The woman says, dipping down to pick up Ruby. “Say buh-bye, Ruby.”

As they walk away, Ruby twists in her mother’s arms to look over her shoulder at you and Thor and waves.

“Buh-bye!”

“Bye, Ruby.” You wave at her, smiling at her cuteness before you look up to meet Thor’s gaze.

“See, that wasn’t so terrible.” Thor gives you a squeeze. “Just our luck that it was an adorable child to greet you first.”

“She was so cute!” You gush, wishing you could take her home.

Maybe Thor sees the deep want in your own face because he leans in and presses his lips to your temple before resting them softly against your ear.

“Don’t worry, cherub. Soon we’ll have our own little one running around the palace.” He promises.

Even though he means it in an innocent way, the deep tone and intent in his voice is also very clear and if there weren’t a lot of people watching, you’d pull him down for a kiss.

He smirks down at you, almost like he knows that you picked up on that lusty vibe despite his words being sweet.

“You’re not playing fair.” You complain.

Thor chuckles then gives the crowd, which has grown quite a bit, another wave.

“Something to look forward to when we go home.” He reasons.

“Will we get to do everything you want with this crowd around us?” You give them a look and tuck yourself into Thor’s side a little more but wave all the same.

All these eyes on you. Watching you. Listening to every little thing you say?

“I’ll make it possible, cherub.” Thor assures you.

He twirls his hammer, a near replica of the one his sister destroyed before they arrived on Earth and takes a step towards the crowd with the look of someone about to make a speech.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you look at yourself, you still look like you. Still wearing the dress you’d pulled on in the morning. Braids still in place.

Thor is still in full uniform. Still holding his hammer. But as the two of you walk through the city, no one stops to look.

After you and Thor had ducked into that first shop—a bakery that had lured him in by the nose because apparently the breakfast you’d cooked him hadn’t been enough—and emerged freshly fed, none of the people who had stopped to watch you when you'd landed were looking at you as you passed them.

Some of them even looked right at you then away as if they didn’t recognize you.

“It’s magic.” Thor whispers in your ear.

He straightens up, watching you with an amused grin as understanding overcomes your face.

“A trick my mother taught me that Loki has helped me perfect. Would you like us to see what they do? Our clothes, I mean? We’ll still see each other.”

“Sure.” You nod, excited by the proximity of magic to yourself.

Thor gives you a nod. He twirls his hammer, held loose in his right hand and it turns into an umbrella.

His clothes are neat and somewhat formal. More of a business casual with dark pressed trousers, a thick black t-shirt made of a heavy and soft cotton blend. His jacket is coal gray, with just the slightest hint of brown.

You gasp lightly, stunned by the sight of him with two electric blue eyes. No sleek black and gold eyepatch. Just two pretty orbs that blink at the shock on your face.

“What, love?” He worries, reaching down to place his hand on your lower back as the two of you continue down the sidewalk.

“Your eyes.” You shake your head, speechless.

“Oh, yes. Well, it helps me blend in.”

His blonde hair is styled too, a smooth wave of the longer hair along the top of his head. Why is he so pretty?

Thor chuckles.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He teases, still looking forward.

“I’m staring,” You huff a laugh. “I’m sorry.”

But you give yourself a look and find yourself wearing a chic black pantsuit. More heavy cotton blend fabric from head to toe. It has that waterproof sheen though. Like if you spill something it’ll just roll off. Black long sleeve shirt with a higher than normal collar. It’s just a few inches short of being a turtleneck.

Over that you’re wearing a sleeveless wool trench coat with big black buttons and large pockets. The cut is feminine and left open since it’s cold but not too cold during the day with the sun streaming down.

It’ll be different tonight.

“We have these actual clothes waiting for us at the compound. I had them sent over when Stark told me that I’d be able to bring you for introductions. We can change in my room once we’re there, so we won’t be as constricted.” Thor takes your hand to his lips and gives it a kiss.

“You have a room at the compound? Isn’t it like a military base or something?” You wonder.

“Parts of it. There is a shooting range and a hangar with plenty of planes and jets. A pretty large garage with quite the selection of cars. Maybe we can go for a drive after dinner for some alone time?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, but you’re still trying to wrap your mind around bedrooms at the compound.

“Do some of the Avengers live on the compound?”

“Yes.” Thor nods, his attention pulled away from his suggestive expression. “Several of them do. Wanda lives there. Captain Rogers, Natasha, Vision, Samuel and Barnes live there now too. Stark has moved out to be with Pepper on some cabin they purchased together a year ago.

“Barton lives with his family, so he doesn’t stay at the compound. And of course, for me it has been a home away from home. The only other person that stays there but doesn’t live there permanently is Banner.

“After we arrived from our journey in space, he took to his lab and slept at the compound for nearly six months before he finally went home. He hasn’t come back to the compound since. Says he’s working on something, but he’s promised to be here for our dinner.” Thor assure you.

Sad to say that you can’t exactly be as excited as he is as the list of names, he just went through looms over you like a test you didn’t study for.

Suddenly he stops, and he waves over at another tall blonde man with storm blue eyes and what looks to be a full beard. His slightly outgrown blonde hair is pushed back, the tresses smooth and silky as he hurries towards you both, brown leather bomber jacket zipped shut over a pair of jeans.

“Oh, you’re dressed up.” He says, but you recognize him and as Thor stops, you find yourself gaping at Captain America. “Maybe I should have picked something nicer.”

“Not necessary. You and the rest of the team are friends.” He takes Captain America’s hand and shakes it before they both meet in a quick hug.

“It’s been too long.” Thor admits.

“Well, you’re a busy man now. King and all that.”

“H-How did you recognize us?” You stutter, focusing on the mystery before you instead of the fact that Captain America is standing right fucking there!

“I let him see us.” Thor explains. “The veil holds only for those I want to shield us from.”

“Oh.” You whisper, not intending to but you have no air in your lungs again.

Thor seems to read your frayed nerves because he reaches around to wrap his arm around your waist and offer you some support.

“Captain Rogers, this is my lovely and very nervous wife, Y/N Y/L/N. Queen of Asgard and if I’m honest, the love of my life.” Thor’s honest gushing, the way he sounds honest and so freaking sincere brings you back to yourself a little and with a squeeze from him, you relax.

“Steve, Thor. Please. I’m not Captain America anymore.” He says, almost as if it’s a reminder.

This confuses you because as far as you know, Steve Rogers is still Captain America.

“I read the e-mail.” Thor says, shaking his head. “I thought perhaps it was a joke.”

“Since when have I ever joked about something this serious?”

“I don’t know, I thought perhaps you might have-”

Steve Rogers turns to you, ignoring Thor for the moment as he holds his hand out and slowly you take it.

“I know I should probably bow, but we don’t want everyone knowing who I’m talking to so, is a handshake okay?”

��Of course!” You say breathlessly as he shakes your hand softly. His grip is firm, but you can tell he’s very aware of not hurting you.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” He begins, then leans in towards you and whispers, “Your Majesty.”

Both of you are left smiling while Thor’s eyes are narrowed at the two of you.

“How do you find married life? Has Thor gotten on your nerves yet?”

You can tell he’s joking because while he’s talking to you, he steals a quick side-eye at Thor to gauge his reaction.

“Not yet. But he does like to eat all of the bacon.” You whisper.

Steve makes a pained look, directing it at Thor, still holding your hand in that gentle handshake.

“That’s a big no-no.” Steve agrees.

“Right?” You press, enjoying the pout on Thor’s lips.

“Alright, Rogers, release my wife’s hand.” He reaches and takes your hand out of Steve’s forcefully, but you and Steve only chuckle.

Thor pulls your hand up against his chest and with his other arm still around your waist, he’s basically got you wrapped up in his arms.

“Come on, everyone’s waiting.” Steve laughs, moving towards a black luxury sedan.

Thor makes to move forward but you pull back, resisting because meeting Steve Rogers was already stressful enough.

Now you have to go meet the rest of them? Can’t you just call it quits now?

“Cherub?” Thor looks at you, the concern pouring from him so overwhelmingly sweet that you give in.

He wants this so badly. It’s so important to him. You’ll also have to do many things from here on out that will make you anxious and stressed.

Suck it up.

“I’m just nervous.” You tell him, as if he can’t already see it himself.

“Thor?” Steve calls from the driver’s side of the car. He’s got the door open, both arms resting against the top of the vehicle.

“A moment, Steve.” Thor says, and for some reason it gives Steve a curious look on his face.

It’s almost as if he’s not used to Thor calling him by his first name.

“You have nothing to be nervous about, my love. You’ve already met Rogers and he’s like one of those dogs with the long ears and the funny long howl when it comes to sensing when anything’s amiss. Clearly, he likes you. You’re perfection, Y/N. You have nothing to worry about.”

Thor’s gushing should make you feel better, and it does a little. But you’re about to meet so many people. All of them important to Thor. What if you say something that makes one of them angry? What if you and one of them—or all of them—just don’t mesh well?

“I just-I-I don’t want to, I don’t know, disappoint you?”

Thor’s face falls into complete adoration. His smile is soft but wide and so pleased. He takes a step towards you, reaching up with both hands to place them on the back of your head, just behind your ears.

“You’ve already made me so proud, cherub. You’re here, standing with your head held high, greeting the people of a foreign country with grace and kindness. You’ve made jokes with one of my closest comrades already. I have every faith that you will continue to outshine me.” He chuckles as you relax a little more. “Do you need a few minutes?”

You shake your head, reaching up to take hold of his wrists. “No.”

“Ready?”

“Yes,” you nod.

Thor slips his hands down, flicking them gently so that he can take hold of both your hands.

He pulls them to his lips and kisses them, never breaking eye contact.

He must lose concentration for his magic because as he kisses your knuckles, his two eyes turn into one as the eyepatch takes its place again.

His regular clothes turn back into his armor and your own dress shifts back into the more Asgardian appropriate attire.

“Uh, Thor?” Steve Rogers insists.

Thor looks at him and with a nod towards his body, Steve Rogers communicates the problem.

You look around and people are stopping their shopping and walking and going about their days to turn and look at the two Asgardian monarchs suddenly standing on the sidewalk in a sweet and affectionate embrace.

“Oops.” Thor smiles at them and gives them a wave while simultaneously taking hold of your hand.

You follow his lead and give them a regal wave and polite smile as he pulls you towards the car. Steve Rogers is already there, holding the back door open for you.

You get in and he shuts the door as Thor moves around to the other side and gets in too.

“You distracted me.” He accuses you, reaching around you to pinch your side.

You give a small scream of laughter then look at the watching crowd with a startled and embarrassed smile, but they’re pleased by the exchange. Some of them taking video and photos. Others just giggling and laughing along with you.

There are a few young women and men who even look envious. And honestly? Who wouldn’t?

You look and Thor and as he chuckles at your reaction to his teasing and the reaction of those watching as Steve Rogers pulls the car away from curb, you can understand their envy because Thor is beautiful and anyone, even if in the end they decide they don’t want to be with him, would be lucky to share in his love.

~~~~~~~~~~

You made Thor promise to keep his hands to himself and you’re already regretting it.

You feel like you’re going to pass out. It’s all wobbly on your legs.

Knees are buckling and you might go down any second.

Thor takes an inch in your direction, but you give him a frown and he clears his throat before going right back to the spot he’d been in.

Both of you stand in a long common room. There are two modern armchairs in a gray almost beige cotton fabric. Two long sofas in an orange sandstone color sit completely occupied.

On the sofa to the right sit two beautiful red heads. One has short shoulder-length hair with pale blonde tips. The other’s long locks in a deeper less vibrant red fall to the base of her shoulder blades.

The brighter red headed woman has a sharp face, with large bright green eyes and eyebrows that start somewhat full on the inner corners and slowly fade into much thinner lines.

They’re perfectly shaped for her face though it does give her a sterner look.

She’s wearing a plain black dress with capped sleeves and a plunging V neckline. Her shoes are simple black flats though, which she taps against the floor as she waits for you to speak. Black Widow is just as fearsome as she looks in the news.

The other woman is much younger, her youthful face round. Her eyes are a pretty soft brown, more inviting though still a little distrustful. This must be Wanda, the Scarlet Witch.

It’s like she’s analyzing every move you make.

Fuck.

Beside her sits a man with peachy skin, short blondish-reddish hair. He looks older than her, but still handsome.

Despite the appearance of his older age, he has hold of one of Wanda’s hands. Fingers intertwined.

They’re together.

Vision, your mind provides.

On the other sofa sits Steve, his eyes kind as he waits patiently for you to be ready. Beside him sits a handsome black man with an exhausted expression.

You can tell that it isn’t directed at you, but he looks tired. Just home from doing some Avengers work, maybe?

Beside him sits a middle-aged man with small streaks of gray at his temples. His face is kind, but he seems like he’s preoccupied. Like he’s got places to be or things to do.

He keeps wringing his hands slowly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he watches you.

On the far armchair is the man himself, Tony Stark. He looks every bit a king in his domain, just like Thor back home in New Asgard.

He owns the place—literally—and everyone knows it just by watching him sit there. He’s inquisitive about you, his mind clearly racing from the look in his eyes.

He’s the most analytical out of everyone. He keeps looking at you from head to toe, every shift in your stance, the way you hold your hands, or the fact that you’re looking each of them over and making your own conclusions catches his attention.

The last person in the room, and the only other one standing aside from you and Thor, is a tall beefy man with shortly cropped dark brown hair. He also looks tired, and he reaches up to rub his exhausted face with his shining black arm etched with golden veins that run through the sleek indestructible metal.

Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier. Though most people still call him that, from what Thor said in your prep when coming is that he’s been fixed?

No, that’s not the right way to phrase that. He’s not a dog. He’s been deprogrammed.

You don’t quite understand what that means, but you realized as Thor spoke that Hydra had done something to Bucky to make him do the things that he’d done. Like brainwashing, though you know nothing about how one gets brainwashed.

It made you sad, that someone would be that cruel and take from someone their identity and all the things that make them who they are. You heart aches for the former Winter Soldier and he gives you the tinies of smiles. Just a soft and subtle gesture of encouragement.

All eyes in the room are on you, and you’re freezing up so you appreciate the figurative extended hand.

When you speak, your voice trembles at first.

“I-It’s so…I’m s-so…”

They stir, sitting up straighter at the sound of your voice.

Get it together! You’re Queen of an entire fucking kingdom!

You clear your throat, and with a quick shallow breath you try again.

“I’m sorry, I’m a l-little nervous. I know how important you all are to Thor and I-I know this was sudden. We were both really sorry that you couldn’t come to the wedding but I’m so glad to meet you now. My name is Y/N, and I…I think that’s it?”

Turning to Thor, you find him smiling wide, singular eye bright. He’s proud and you can see it in the way he pulls his shoulders back and moves back towards you, slipping his arm around your waist.

Both of you are wearing the real versions of his illusion now minus the coats, formal King and Queen garb abandoned in his room.

Thor’s arm is a welcome warmth.

“That was wonderful, cherub.”

“Cherub?” A snarky voice teases, and both of you turn to look at Tony Stark.

“Leave them alone, Tony. I’ve heard some of the things you call Pepper when you think we aren’t listening.” The Black Widow, Natasha, cuts in.

“Like what?”

“Pudding-pop?”

“That’s a good one.” Thor observes. “Can I borrow it?”

“All y’all being really gross.” The new Captain America, Sam, points out.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have your own pudding-pop.” Bucky sighs, moving to the back of the sofa to lean both hands on the seat and look down at his friend.

“When’s the last time you had someone call you pudding-pop, Barnes?” Sam wonders, a clear attempt at a jab.

“Uh…1943? Just after I enlisted.” He answers, no sarcasm or embarrassment about that fact.

“You both need to get a life.” Natasha points out.

“You first.” Sam retorts.

Natasha fixes him with a look of confusion before getting up and moving towards Bucky. For a moment it looks as if she’s just going to pass right by him and into the kitchen behind him, but instead she slips her arm through his metal one and leans against him gently.

“I’ve got one. Don’t I, pudding-pop?”

The silence that follows is heavy but with building energy.

Then the room explodes with exclamations of, “What?!”

“When did this happen?!”

“How long have you two been a thing?”

“Why?!”

With their attention diverted, you relax, leaning into Thor’s embrace as Natasha catches your eye and gives you a quick subtle wink.

“I thought we were gonna wait?” You hear Bucky ask Natasha over the cacophony of voices demanding information, all of them on their feet again too except for Steve who is smiling and hiding it behind his hand.

Obviously he already knew, and it’s also obvious that Natasha revealed her relationship with Bucky for your benefit and to make meeting you the secondary event of this get together and while some women would be pissed that she’s gone and stolen your spotlight, you could not be more grateful.

~~~~~~~~~~

A metallic shoulder rubs against the side of your head and you lean away, gasping because you hadn’t expected the sensation.

You’re greeted with a metallic mask, similar to those of Tony Stark’s Iron Man helmet with slight variations around the mouth. The color is also brushed silver, the body white and red. It shifts to the side a little, away from you but it tips its head down in apology like an old 18th century gentleman.

“I’m sorry. Please, excuse me while I collect your empty plates.” The robot says.

“Sorry about the A.I., Cherub.” Tony says, then gives a quiet whistle. “Hey Bud, why don’t you take the night off?”

Beside you, Thor chuckles at Tony’s new nickname for you. He’s done nothing but call you cherub since Thor did earlier in the night. It’s going to stick, or so Steve had promised.

The A.I. straightens up and puts the plates back down before moving off down the hall and out of sight.

“Bud?” Bruce Banner asks, who insisted you call him Bruce and drop the Doctor and the last name.

You have to keep reminding yourself to do so every time you talk to him. Because you can’t seem to remember, you’ve just chosen not to talk to him until you can.

Tony gets to his feet, moving around the table to lean over you, hand placed on his jacket to keep it from swinging against you.

“B.U.D.” He repeats, each letter on its own. “Buggy and Underdeveloped. I’m working on it. I’ve got their manners down. Jarvis quality though not as reliable. Vision is helping me work out the kinks.”

“I do what I can.” Vision says, Wanda reaching around to massage the back of his shoulders.

“You’ve made all the improvements. Tony had them calling us dickheads that one week before he asked for your help.”

“It was a typo!” Tony moves around to Natasha’s plate and piles it on top of yours, then Bucky’s who mutters a nervous thanks which Tony also mutters back a somewhat stiff approval.

You’re not given much time to notice their exchange before Thor’s hand finds your thigh under the table and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You smile at him, reaching down to take his hand. “Just surprised. I’ve never been around artificial intelligence of that caliber.”

“Don’t worry, Cherub. You’ll be used to it soon. You’ll be getting an upgrade at that pretty space cottage of yours pretty soon.” Tony says, grabbing a few glasses one at a time as he moves around the table.

“I’ll help you, Stark.” Thor suddenly says and releases your hand to move around the table and grab the other plates and glasses.

Why does he call him by his last name? Habit maybe?

“Thanks,” Tony nods.

“Space cottage?” You’re not sure what he means.

“Yeah, that big wooden house you all call a palace?” Tony clarifies.

“Oh,” Silly way to look at it. “There’s steel too.”

Tony smirks, “Well, I’ll be sending some people over to get a security system installed and an advanced satellite scanner to catch any movements that might come in from—up there. With this new threat that-”

Thor coughs loudly, dropping a glass that makes a terrible shattering glass sound against the black tabletop. Bucky catches the glass and holds it still then offers it up to him again.

Tony meets Thor’s singular eyed gaze who shakes his head minutely.

“-which I guess you’re not supposed to know? Whoops.” And with that he turns and leaves the room.

You look at Thor and find him watching you, then he quickly turns and follows Tony out of the room.

Whenever you’ve read in the past that someone sees red, you’d always suspected that it was metaphorical. However, you see red as your brain short circuits and all you can feel is a level rage.

The one thing you’d asked of Thor was that he won’t keep secrets from you and here is one, not even a week after your wedding!

“Don’t worry.” Natasha interjects, getting up from her seat. “When it’s worth knowing about, Thor will tell you. He just doesn’t want you to worry.”

Your frown only grows. You can’t seem to get your sudden temper flare under control.

“You’re upset.” Steve notices, getting up when everyone also starts to rise. “Why?”

You follow their example and get to your feet, pushing your chair under the table before following them into a smaller living room space just off the main common room while trying to quell your anger.

The living room is mostly white and gray with a long sectional that is full of red pillows.

“Because I’m Queen of New Asgard.” You point out, speaking a little more firmly than you mean to.

Steve gestures to the seat at the edge of the sectional and you take it, swallowing hard as you shove some of that upset down into your tummy so that you won’t lash out at the very nice people that Thor sees as family.

“You are.” Steve agrees. “No one would argue that you aren’t.”

Does he not get it?

“He might not want me to worry, but I have a responsibility to the people of New Asgard. If something is happening that might affect them, I need to know.” You cross your arms across your chest, huffing lightly and letting that be the peak of your temper.

You don’t want to fight with Thor here in front of everyone.

The reaction isn’t what you expect.

Sam, who is sitting on the floor at the bend in the sofa leaning against it as the weight of his sleepiness begins to take over, whistles.

Long and slow.

Bucky chuckles as Natasha settles beside him, her arms crossed across her chest as she leans back into his arm.

They don’t look together even if they are, just comfortable. Bucky’s arm curves a little more for her and is the only giveaway that there’s more between them than friendship.

She smirks. On the sofa beside you, Wanda leans forward to try and get a look at your pouting face, her red curtain of hair falling over her shoulder. Vision is standing by the TV looking at a collection of records to put on a turntable that sits ready and empty.

Dr. Ban-Bruce isn’t anywhere in sight.

Steve settles in beside Wanda but closer to Sam, leaving enough room for Vision to sit when he’s finished with the music.

“Thor said you had some bite.” Natasha shares, “Said something about you standing up for Loki? What’s that about?”

You feel your cheeks burn, neck too. With a shrug, you drop your arms and clutch at the fabric of your pants by your knees.

“Yeah, dude’s pretty psycho,” Sam adds.

“Sure, yeah, because a bunch of people dressing up in costumes and going around fighting crime and otherworldly forces are completely sane.”

Shit, did you seriously just say that?

There’s a beat of silence, then, “She sounds very sensible. Now that I’ve had some time with it, I think the cape might have been a touch too far.”

Everyone chuckles, and you turn to look at Vision who finally picks an album and slips it in place.

“Sorry,” You offer, hesitating a moment before you decide to explain yourself. “Loki has been nothing but kind to me. And calling him a psycho offends me. I know you all and the rest of the planet, have issues with him and what he did…so did I, but he’s trying. And he’s family now…like you all…so…”

Your words trail off as you turn to look for Thor, but you can still see him across the common room in the kitchen, exchanging hushed words with Tony and it’s starting to rile you up again. What’s coming? What’s so important that Thor has brought in the Avengers too?

“What did Thor call it?” Bucky asks Nat.

“Bite.” Steve tells him, “She’s got bite.”

“I’d say it’s more like a sting. But she’s right. I don’t think any of us here can judge someone by their past. At least I can’t.” Bucky nods.

“Or me,” Nat agrees.

“Or me,” Wanda smiles.

And then the music starts. Vision turns, hands behind his back as he also smiles at the general pleasantries.

“Taylor Swift?” Sam demands, “Really?”

Vision’s smile vanishes and he gives him nice wide eyes of surprise, “I’ve never heard this one before.”

“Excuse me.” You get up and move towards the kitchen, determined to get an explanation while the room behind you continues to argue the merits of Vision exploring different musical avenues.

“Whose album even is that?” Sam demands.

Steve clears his throat, “I think you should both get some sleep. I want a debrief first thing in the morning. I might not be Captain America anymore, but I’m still running this show.”

“Don’t try to change the subject, you’ve never accepted the boss mantle until now. Which other albums do you have in your room that you’re too afraid to share?” Nat adds.

“Hey, I have no shame in my musical taste.” Steve defends.

As you near the kitchen, the open spaces separated only by two large circular pillars and a sleek concrete counter island, you slow as their quiet conversation begins to reach your ears. It wasn’t necessarily that you’re trying to eavesdrop…but they’re not talking about what you expected them to be talking about. So, you freeze.

Too nervous to move, forward because what the hell? Or back, because they’ll no doubt hear your retreat.

Where’s the talk about threats to the kingdom and planet? No, you get a nice dose of fear and jealousy instead.

“You only knew her for a week before you married her?”

“It was arranged. All of you knew this. I explained it the last time we met.”

“I get that, but what-” You can hear the hesitation in Tony’s voice.

Despite the fact that he knows he probably shouldn’t bring it up, he throws his dishtowel on the counter and turns around to lean against it as Thor’s hands continue to sift through the dishes, washing them slowly. “What happened to Foster? Weren’t you two pretty hot and heavy? Last time you brought her here-”

“Jane has other priorities.” Thor cuts him off, clearly still hurt from his breakup with Jane.

You hate the sound in his voice. Why does he have to be so clearly heartbroken?

“That’s all I get?” Tony asks, waiting and leaning in a little closer to Thor.

“What else would you have me say? It was hard to leave her. And if I’m honest, I still find myself thinking about what life might have become if she’d been ready to settle down.”

What?

You take a step back, wanting to get away from this horrible conversation you wish you hadn’t accidentally run into. Retreat being heard be damned!

But then, “Cherub?”

It’s Tony, a smirk in his voice as he turns to help Thor dry the dishes he sets aside.

“She is my angel.” Thor smiles, just a teeny upturn at the corners of his lips as he steals a glance at Tony.

Your heart gives a painful clench at the love that you’ve been seeing in his eye pour through in his voice.

“A celestial creature sent to me by fate. I had no knowledge of the capacities of love. I’ve only ever found love as I found Jane’s. We were met by chance, and the attraction was clear and instant. Intention as well. With my cherub, things though they grew quickly, were harder to find. I had to look past my own melancholia to see that she was there waiting for me.”

“She does look like she’s completely lost it.” Tony nudges Thor aside because he’s taking so long and takes over the washing.

“I hope you mean lost her heart to me?”

“What else? Her mind? Though why anyone would agree to rule an entire country is beyond me.”

“She’s brave.” Thor boasts, body completely relaxed. “I’ve never known anyone with her courage. The first night of our engagement she demanded that I be honest with her, even if I decided to keep Jane as a mistress.”

Tony looks at him, eyebrow quirked as he asks a voiceless question.

“Which of course, is out of the question. I entertained the thought for a bit, I can’t deny it. At the very beginning as I was making my plans to go leave Jane, to end things permanently so that I could do right by Y/N and really try to make our marriage something lasting—I wanted to keep Jane at my side by any means necessary.

“Imagining a life without her was painful and I hate to admit that I had every intention in those last moments before I saw her to ask her to be with me even after I was married.” Thor confesses, sounding torn between guilt and desperation.

You remember seeing that desperation in him before he’d gone to see Jane.

Even after his proposal to you, even after those earth-moving kisses, he’d wanted to keep Jane at his side.

Of course, he did. You shouldn’t be surprised by that. He and Jane had shared so much before you came into the picture. Before you were forced in if you’re honest.

Still, it hurts, and you hate hearing it.

For a second time, you take a step back, wanting to leave.

But then, “What changed your mind?”

Thor sighs heavily, exasperated, exhausted by something.

He crosses his large arms across his chest, black shirt straining against his biceps and pecs. He’s so massive. Standing next to Tony only accentuates that fact.

“It took her two hours to make time to speak with me, and another three before she stopped explaining her work on energy spikes in some far East quadrant of space to let me even bring up the fact I was officially engaged to someone else.

“The only reason I was able to hold off for so long is that she would come and kiss me every twenty minutes to promise that she’d be done soon.”

You hate that.

“It was the waiting around after three months of having seen her last and six months since we’d been together. I just couldn’t stand the thought of that always being my life. As much as I loved her, I didn’t want to spend my marriage waiting for a woman when another had already assured me of her commitment to rule at my side as wife and Queen.”

“Is that the only reason you’re so into your Cherub? Because she obviously likes you?”

“No.” Thor shakes his head, “No, there are many things about Y/N that draw me to her. Most of them I’ve discovered since I made the choice to really let Jane go. When I came home that night, she was there to lure me back from the pit I’d crawled myself into by telling Jane goodbye.”

Tony stops washing to fix Thor with a knowing gaze. He scoffs then turns back to his washing.

“So, the sex is good, is what you’re saying?”

“The sex is very good. Incredibly good. I have no complaints about our physical chemistry. In fact, it’s better than with Jane or anyone else I’ve ever been with. I’m not sure what it is, but we are very well suited in the bedroom. She has such vigor, such desire. I am never in no doubt of her want of me. It’s so good that I almost didn’t want to bring her here because then I’d have to give up an entire day of having her to myself wrapped up in nothing but her bedsheets.”

“Alright, I think I get the picture.” Tony holds up one soapy hand to stop Thor’s bragging. “So, she sleeps with you and makes you feel better. Jane makes you wait, so you end it for good. Did you at least give her a proper goodbye?”

Thor is silent, and this time, you don’t want to know. You’ve already guessed and have been suspecting that this is very much the case, but you don’t want the confirmation.

If that’s what happened when he went to see Jane, you don’t want to know. Even if it happened before you two were married and really together, it happened when you were already in the picture and your heart was already being swayed.

Stepping out from behind the large round pillar, one hand resting against the smooth black curve, you watch Thor think about Tony’s question, tilting his head up to look across the room towards the living room space where the Avengers are now laughing about who the hell knows what.

He sees you and his face loses color.

“Thor?”

“What’s the matter?” He asks, a small bit of panic in his voice.

He moves towards you and you move towards him, meeting halfway.

“Did you hear?” He knows, probably because of whatever is on your face that’s making him panic.

His large hands are already pushing your numerous braids back, throwing them over your shoulders gently so that he can place his hands on your neck.

“Thor,” You repeat, this time getting a hold of yourself and reaching up to grab his wrists and pull his hands down away from your face. “What’s coming?”

This is why you’d come in here, and this is what you’ll insist on knowing. Fuck everything else they were talking about. You don’t want to know, and you don’t care what happened or what Thor felt before both of you exchanged vows.

“What?”

He seems stunned by the shift of topic, despite the agony that you’d momentarily been in. His voice even cracks a little, too shocked by the change.

“The new threat,” You clarify. “This new thing that we need satellites back home for? What is it? What’s happening? I know that you probably don’t want me to worry or want to protect me or maybe you’re still thinking of me as a civilian? But I’m Queen of our kingdom, Thor. If something is coming for us, I deserve to know. I need to know what’s coming if I’m going to help you protect our people. It’s my job and I can’t do it if you don’t let me.”

“Cherub’s got a point.” Tony adds, and claps Thor on the shoulder before gathering up a tray and makes his way out of the kitchen and towards the others with a bottle of beer for each of them.

“You’re right.” Thor nods, reaching to take your hands and he pulls them up to his lips kiss away the pain that he must have seen you feeling.

He seems to know though that you don’t want to focus on that and so he doesn’t bring it up.

You can tell he wants to though. He really wants to talk about what was just said in this kitchen.

“Yes, you’re right, you should know and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want you frightened or worried when you didn’t have to be, but you’re right. As Queen, you have every right to know what might be coming. But can’t we wait to talk about it until later? Tonight perhaps? When we’re alone?”

You don’t want to agree. You want to make demands of him and make him tell you everything right now. However, you also know that you’re a little angry about what you overheard and that’s probably why your pulse is pounding in your throat, heart ramming itself against your ribcage.

“Fine.” You huff then turn to move back into the living room.

“Hey,” He coaxes you back, voice low and deep so that the others won’t hear him.

He catches your wrist and pulls you back gently.

“Did you hear us? Because if you did, when I went to leave Jane I-”

“I don’t wanna know, Thor. If you slept with her, I don’t want to know.” You sigh, stomach clenching painfully. “You did what you have to do. It’s not like you and I fell in love in any kind of traditional way. We were forced together and now we’re married. I’m not stupid.”

“Of course you aren’t, and as true as all of that is, I don’t like the way you’re talking about it.” Thor agonizes, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer and further into the kitchen out of view of the others. “You’re acting as if I don’t love you, or as if it’s a farce. I love you, cherub. It happened quickly, but it is real.”

“I know that, Thor,” It’s nice to hear though, because you’re seriously feeling weak in the confidence you’d spent every night since your wedding building.

For a bit there, you’d believed wholeheartedly that Thor loves you. You still do…but the realities of Jane and how quickly he’d had to end that relationship with her because he had to marry you to give his people a Queen have been brought to light and ruptured the bubble of your new marital bliss.

It’s also suddenly very clear to you that he must still love Jane very much. Even if he loves you too. There’s no way he can move on this quickly.

“You don’t look like you do. You look sad and it’s putting knots in my stomach, love. Please don’t doubt me now.”

Fuck!

You lean forward, shoving your forehead against his wide chest. You wrap your arms around his waist and fist the back of his shirt as he brings his hands up to the sides of your head. You can feel his lips against your scalp, kissing against the large middle braid that goes down along the back of your head.

“This is so hard.” You admit, hating your jealousy.

“I wish I could take all of your strife.” He kisses your head again, an audible smack. “I’m sorry I’m the one making it for you.”

Both of you knew that this would be tricky.

“I swear to you, cherub, it’s only you. You are the only woman I want and the only being in the universe that I want to bear my children.” His words are full of truth and you look up at him to find that same honesty in his gaze.

It’s pained and sorrowful and you hate it.

“I shouldn’t have listened.” You pull yourself up against his body and push yourself up with puckered lips.

Eagerly he leans down to meet your lips with his own but he shifts his head to the side to deepen the peck you’d wanted to leave you in no doubt as to his devotion, or at the very least, his passion.

He leans down to wrap his arms around you and press you up against the side of the pillar.

“Thor…” You whisper when he pulls back to tilt his head the other way. “We’re guests here.”

The reminder cools him down and he places his hands on your hips instead while you tickle the hairs on the back of his neck.

“We should get back to your friends.”

Thor sighs heavily, hating this idea, but he knows you’re right.

He reaches up to take hold of the back of your neck, squeezing it possessively before he leans down to give you one more quick kiss.

“Tonight, I will leave you in no doubt as to my devotion and love. I promise.”

His declaration takes your breath away, and apparently Bruce’s too as he sputters a cough around his own beer as he freezes on the other side of the kitchen by the fridge where another large round pillar lines a different entrance opposite the side you’re both standing on.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Bruce says, reaching up to wipe at the beer dribble around his mouth.

Thor takes his hands back and you slip out from between him and the pillar then make your way back towards the living room feeling flushed.

As you walk back in, observing the room, Steve and Vision are currently playing an apparently rousing game of Connect Four on the floor while Nat and Bucky sit cuddled up on the far corner of the sectional, talking quietly but also giving the two battling on the floor the occasional glance.

Wanda is on her phone, typing away quickly with a beer held between her thighs. Sam is standing by the records, despite his previous griping, nodding his head as Taylor Swift’s 22 fills the space.

Tony is on his own phone, standing in the far corner of the room with a sappy smile on his own face which tells you he’s probably talking to his own wife, Pepper Potts, who couldn’t make it tonight due to a work engagement.

All of them have a beer around them or in hand, and as you make your way towards the bend in the sectional feeling a little like you’re intruding, just as your back hits the sofa a cold bottle meets your cheek.

You jump a little but turn to look and Tony holds out a sealed bottle for you.

“You okay with import? Or do you want domestic?” He asks, holding his phone to his shoulder, brows drawn together as he waits for your answer.

“This is fine, thanks.” You take the bottle and then give him a quick smile.

“Good, because then I’d have sent you down to get your own.” He assures you, but a voice from his phone calls his name and he hurries away again, phone pressed to his ear.

You look at the bottle of beer in your hands, wondering if the top is a twist but when you go to turn it the ridges hurt your hand and you stop instantly.

Just as you’re about to lean over and ask Bucky to open the bottle for you, the sectional dips beside you and heat envelops your shoulder and side as Thor sits right beside you.

“It sounds like excuses to me.” He says, looking at Bruce who sits down beside him with a bit more space allowed between them.

“It’s not an excuse,” Bruce insists. “I’m working on something that needs all of my concentration. I’ll come visit soon, I promise. I’m going to be coming with Tony for the security system installation so, I’ll get to see the palace then.”

“Thor?” You hold the bottle up for him and he takes it from you, kissing the side of your head before he simply flicks the top with his thumb and it flies off and falls right on Steve’s head.

“Hey,” He complains, but then gets distracted as Vision connects his four red chips.

“I win.” Vision declares.

“Damn,” Steve concedes. “You got me. Go again?”

Vision dumps the chips, and they start splitting them up.

“Here you are, cherub.” Thor hands you back your beer, and you take a quick drink before settling in against Thor’s side a bit more comfortably as he gives you a squeeze but continues to chat with Bruce.

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #a wife for thor #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fic #king!thor xyou #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #thor odinson x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #a wife for thor pt12

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tomthesoftie · 4 years ago

Text

let them flow

❧ synopsis: after the collapsing of an unhealthy relationship, each side begins to improve and thrive, one for the other, one for themselves. coincidentally, they meet at the same dreaded party that led to the breaking of their relationship. will this unfortunate series of events lead them to opportunity?

❧ pairing: jock!tom x fem!reader

❧ genre: fluff

❧ warnings: mild angst, fluffy-ish ending, exes to friends to lovers, one or two curse words, lil bit of crying, mentions of alcohol

❧ a/n: it’s finally over. thank goodness. this also is so long it can be considered a second part fuck. i know i took a whole month to write this, but i barely have free time to write nowadays and the times i do, i don’t have much inspiration. anyways this came out better than i expected so hope you guys enjoy.

in order to understand this ending, please read this first: her hidden crystal tears

masterlist prompt list add yourself on my taglist!

In the first month you spent broken up with Tom, you, for once, felt at peace, with no burden of hiding relationships and denying feelings. You had forgotten how free living singly was. Within that month, you were able to reshape your life. Your grades began to improve, and your mental health had phenomenally developed for he better. Your friends had even gone out of their ways to help you with a "glow up."

Tom, on the other hand, had tried to shape him into a better person in hopes of salvaging your crumbling, if you could even call it that, relationship. He worked harder in class, and every time he saw you sitting in the lecture hall, you were surrounded by other classmates, giving him no place to fit in. He also started to distance himself from his old group of friends, looking for a better, influential group.

Tom couldn't help but feel a tug at his heart when he saw you walking with one other friend to class, laughing at something they said. He saw how your under eye-bags turned bright and how you shoulders straightened up after the breakup. It broke his heart to know the negative impact he had on you, which you never complained or spoke out about.

The brunette wanted to improve for you and himself.

How you ended up in a pair of high-waisted, black, denim shorts and a black bandeau with a sheer, cropped, long-sleeved shirt overtop you didn't know. After much begging and bothering, your friend had convinced you to go to the afterparty of the football game. You tried your best to deny their attempts but failed when they baited you with money.

This would be your first time attending a party, for you were always driven home and away from them. You couldn't deny, though, the chills that snaked down your spine at the mention of it.

Stepping into the house, you noticed how similar it looked to a fraternity. People were dancing, pushing their bodies against others and grinding their hips onto drunk partners. Other students were playing beer pong, stripping on tables, or resting on couches with a red, plastic cup in their hands. It smelled terribly of sweat and oversaturated body spray, making you gag on your breath.

"How do so many people like this?" You shouted over the pounding music and loud voices.

"How do you not?" You friend giggled, dragging you through the crowd.

Dodging and pushing people off of you, you gripped your friend's hand tightly, afraid of losing them.

"Where are we going?" You asked, eyes darting all over the place in uncertainty.

"Before we party, we've got to get drinks," they pushed the door of the kitchen open, revealing the alcohol infested space.

Scrambling over to the bulky cooler, they grabbed a can of beer, popping it open and downing it.

Flinching in disgust, you commented, "Don't you want to wash that, first?"

"What d'you mean? It looks perfectly clean to me," they shrugged, throwing you a can.

You clumsily captured the condensated drink, before putting it on the counter behind you, "I don't drink."

They groaned, "Why are you such a doormat? Come on," they nudged your shoulder, "Live a little."

You laughed, "I can "live a little" just fine with water."

"Ugh, fine. I'm guessing you also want to sit in a corner and become a hermit," they spoke, sarcastically.

"Actually," your eyes lit up, "I do."

"You," they pointed at you unsteadily, "annoy me, but since I already brought you along," their finger moved to point at an idle seat in the corner of a calmer room, "There."

You nodded, eyeing the isolated spot with glee. However, before your friend could escape into the crowd, you told them to stay safe and slipped away to occupy said seat.

Although Tom no longer associated himself with his old group of friends, he couldn’t avoid them forever, as they were his teammates. Also, as the captain of the football team, it was practically an obligation for him to attend the after parties.

Honestly, ever since you had broken up with Tom, he had developed a small fear of being whisked away by his fangirls and teammates, constantly thinking you were waiting in his car for him. His guilt had piled on top of his conscious, leaving him an insecure wreck.

Nevertheless, he stepped into the filled building, nodding and waving at familiar faces. One face he wasn’t expecting to see sat in the corner of the room was yours.

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, he murmured to himself, “She’s not there, you idiot.”

“Tom, buddy,” a familiar voice hollered.

Through your peripheral vision, you swore that you saw his chocolate curls, but when you looked up from your phone, he had disappeared. Your eyes began to dart through the crowd of people, looking for the man you supposedly had gotten over.

Quickly realizing your mistake, you shunned yourself for willingly wrapping yourself around his little finger. You returned to scrolling through your phone, distracting yourself with the illuminated screen.

Tom watched as his teammate, and former friend, grabbed at a girl swaying her hips, pushing her ass against his friend’s crotch, into a grind. Suddenly feeling highly uncomfortable where he stood, he moved into the kitchen to grab a drink.

The room let in muffled sounds but ultimately was the quietest room in the building. The white LED lights left the room bright and easy to navigate, albeit the clusters of finished drinks and used cups littered on the counters and in the sink and overflowing out of the trashcan.

The brunette drifted over to the fridge, locating the fresh water bottles hidden from other partygoers.

Feeling quenched, you stood up from your seat, unwillingly. You looked for a quick and precise path to the kitchen, though you failed to do so. Deciding to extemporize it, you awkwardly squished your way through the crowd, mumbling “excuse me” and “sorry” periodically.

Pushing the white-paint clad, wooden door open, you stumbled your way into the room, glaring at the sudden brightness engulfing your vision.

Hearing the music and sound of people cheering grow louder, Tom turned around to see the oh-so familiar girl he had fallen infatuated with many months ago.

You stood, blinking your eyes as they tried to adapt to the sudden change of lighting. Groaning, your hands began massaging and harassing the poor skin of your eyelids.

Your unnoticed ex, still stood in front of the fridge with a cool bottle of water in his hand, smiled at your adorable behaviour — widely contrasting your provocative outfit — watching as your cheeks puffed out in frustration.

Feeling the haze leave your eyes, you looked ahead of you to see a silhouette emerging. Embarrassed, you blushed, looking down at your shoes.

You felt a cool presence resting beside your cheek, and quickly looked at the item.

Water? You thought, confused.

Eyes trailing up the arm holding the bottle, your met with the sight of your former boyfriend smiling at you.

“Tom,” you breathed.

After avoiding and ignoring the boy for so many weeks, you already had forgotten how sweet he looked with a smile and soft blush grazing his cheeks. Maybe you hadn’t forgotten; you were just rarely, if ever, given the opportunity to admire it.

“Hey,” he responded, shyly rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

You glanced at the bottle then back to Tom, silently asking what he was doing with it.

“O-Oh, I just thought you’d want a bottle of water, since you don’t drink, but if you do now, that’s totally cool too,” he rambled nervously, like a little boy talking to his crush on the playground.

Although you had only broken up with him a bit over a month ago, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust taking the drink from him.

“Thanks, but I can get one myself. I’m sure you wanted to drink that too.”

You gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile before walking past him to the fridge. Reaching into the cool container, you pulled out a frosted water bottle.

The situation was strange. Everything felt so familiar but so different. It didn’t feel right to talk to each other like you knew how they slept in bed at night or how they loved warm cuddles on the couch as they binged shows and movies.

“Look, Y/N,” Tom spoke up, breaking the tension with a breath, “I know that I was a jerk we were together. I also know that I neglected you. I shouldn’t have cared about what everyone else thought about our relationship.

“Looking back, I understand why you were so frustrated with me, and you had every right to break up with me. I was a wuss that used protecting you as an excuse to keep you under covers. I reveled in the popularity and attention I got, back then.

“I’m different, now, though. I’m not saying you have to take me back. You don’t even have to consider it. All I want to do, right here, right now, is to apologize to you, so, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the anguish and sadness I caused. I’m sorry you had to waste your tears on me. I’m so fucking sorry, and if I have the slightest chance to even be your friend again, please let me take it.”

You felt a churning in your core, and tears prickled the corner of your eyes. You didn’t understand where your emotions arose from. You thought that you had moved on from Tom. You thought you had left him behind, left him in the shadows of your life.

You turned around, hand reaching up to quickly wipe your tears away. That is, until a calloused hand grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t,” the accented voice choked, “It hurts me as much as it does you.”

Your words were caught in your throat. You tried to say something, anything, but nothing but sobs slipped your lips.

Everything became a blur. You could only feel warmth enveloping you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, darling,” Tom murmured into your hair.

After the encounter at the party, you and Tom went on with your life as normal.

Although, nothing that happened that night could be considered normal. You cried while he held you tightly in his arms. He apologized for his faults and asked for a second chance, as a friend or more. You forgave him and gave him the chance.

Will you ever want to have the same relationship you had with Tom as before? No.

You and Tom are working on building a better, healthier relationship for the both of you: an open and honest relationship that won’t be hidden from anyone, especially not his “fangirls.”

“Don’t ever hide your tears again,” Tom whispered into your hair, “Let them flow.” His pointer finger gently lifts your chin, locking his eyes with your tear-filled ones. He brings his thumb to your cheek, wiping away the shining streaks of pain, sadness, desperation.

“Let them flow because I’ll be here. I’ll be here to wipe them away every and any time.”

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