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#(me when the day is about to end: hey it feels like i'm forgetting something [then suddenly realize that i need to do the daily sketch])
asteraddicted · 23 hours
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Small interaction idea I got for the Supersons (pre-Jon age up; I HATE THAT PART) soooo sorry if this is bad its my first official drabble post (did i use that term correctly???)
Based on this (one part blacked out bc idk how tumblr would take it)
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"Hey, Damian?" Jon spoke up, he and Damian lounging in Damian's room because— no offense to Clark, but Wayne Manor was cooler for sleepovers.
"Yes, Kent?" Damian huffed, focused on sharpening one of his many daggers. Despite the dynamic, the two were undeniable best friends. It was surprising at first, with Damian's blunt, down-to-earth personality with snap backs and insults that would make a grown man cry. Damian Wayne, best friends with a sunny, optimistic, 'blinding everyone with his smile' Jon Kent. But of course, the two didn't start out that way.
"Remember when you practically- no, you DID kidnap me after I accidentally.. killed a cat and a hawk?" Jon mumbled the last part, clearly still ashamed of it. He hadn't told Damian the whole story yet, despite how long it had been. Damian's eyebrows furrowed, and he got a little closer. He remembered those times, back before they were friends.
"Yes, I remember," he replied, his voice still firm as he inquired. "Why are you bringing that up again, Kent?" Damian — despite his almost inhuman abilities, talents, and feats — was still human, and still had the ability to forget things.
"..Nothing! It's just.. the cat. Goldie was her name. It's her deathday today." Jon frowned, having always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Jon couldn't help but mistake the sting building up in his eyes as the burning feeling of letting his heat vision go off and MURDER cremate the two innocent creatures on accident. It was only for a second, but Damian could see how Jon panicked in that little moment.
"And? Your point?" He said, his tone a surprisingly a tad bit softer than usual. He didn't really know what Jon was talking about. Really, he did remember kidnapping Jon because he didn't trust him. But to Damian? That was like another regular Tuesday for him.
"..I didn't mean to kill Goldie, or the hawk. I know you know that. But Goldie had escaped her house, and I was chasing her to get her back." Jon began to explain, and he wasn't as cheerful as he usually was. Not as he finally told Damian the full story. Jon couldn't help it. It had been at the very least a few years ago, but the horror Jon had felt that day was something Jon himself never forgot.
"..their bodies were charred and burning. Couldn't tell hawk from cat.. only Goldie's collar remained! I.." Jon had to go quiet to compose himself. His hands were actually shaking. Damian listened to the story. He knew something was wrong with Jon. He was not his usual cheerful, confident self.
Damian looked at Jon, his expression hard to read. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to comfort him. Damian was never good at comfort. He just sat back in silence for a while, processing what Jon had told him. Being from the League of Assassins, death was nothing new to him. Hell, he's killed animals on purpose for mission and training before he was taken to Wayne Manor. Whales and tigers and lions and eagles, on and on. It was a little hard to see from Jon's perspective, but Damian tried.
"..Y'know.. I don't think you remember what you said to me when I woke up after you kidnapped me. Hehe.." Jon let out a chuckle, smiling with his teeth to try and lighten his sadness with humor. "You told me.. 'You are a threat to every living thing on and off this planet.' And Damian, I know this is stupid, but.." Jon curled his knees to his chest, eyes on the blank screen as a movie they were watching played it's end credits.
"..I believed you. In a way.. I still do. I'm scared of myself, Dami." Jon admitted quietly before grinning and wiping his tears.
"But I guess that's pretty dumb, right?" Jon grinned widely. He was half-Kryptonian and his dad was Superman! He shouldn't cry, and he didn't have any reason to! He was growing up, and he should be more in control of his emotions.
Yet Jon had let his mind wander multiple times, whenever he passed by where it happened. It was ironic, but Jon couldn't help but be scared of himself. Yes, himself. He had the powers of Superman — the Man of Steel himself. And he was also a young boy who could be easily tricked and manipulated. Jon was strong and carefree, but he wasn't stupid. At least not all the time. Jon has witnessed some extremely traumatic events in his life. The possibility that he had the power to massacre entire cities — maybe states, countries, or eventually the world? That was something that made Jon want to lock himself up in a kryptonite cage and hide away.
Jon was afraid of his powers and the destruction they could bring. He was immune to fire, but still couldn't stop himself from imagining the burning, mangled, charred bodies of a hawk and a cat each time there was a fire that was large enough.
Damian clenched his jaw. He remembered that day. He remembered telling Jon that he was a threat. Listening to Jon talk about his fear of himself and his own powers made something inside of Damian ache. He didn't like it. Not one bit.
"It's not dumb," he said, his voice softer than usual. Damian didn't know why he was being so soft (he knew exactly why, but he didn't want to admit it. Not yet.). "And you're not a threat, Kent. You're not. You never were. You're the last person who's a threat to anything."
"That's EXACTLY why I'm a threat, Dames! I'm part Kryptonian!.. I'm invincible to most on Earth." Jon exclaimed, sighing. "I can still go rogue! Dad has gone rogue before. I don't.." Jon trailed off.
"Kent. If you think for a second I'd let you go rogue, just know my Father has plenty of Kryptonite stocked away that I would not hesitate to use." Damian narrowed his eyes, but not in an angry way. It was affectionate, though it would be hard to tell from an outsider's perspective. Jon, oddly enough, felt reassured. Reassured that if something goes wrong, that Damian would be there to stop him. He'd always be there to stop him.
"You promise, Dames?" Jon couldn't help but whisper.
"Yes, I promise. Now come on. Didn't you want to show me this movie called 'Legally Blonde' or something?" Damian rolled his eyes, but they still held that tinge of care. That hint of affection that was only reserved for Jon, and wasn't the type that Damian held for his family. No, Damian had a part of his heart specifically reserved for Jon Kent.
"Okay, good. Now come on, let's watch a pretty girl kick legal butt!" Jon grinned, ultimately feeling much better. He was so lucky to have Damian.
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AN: First post, not beta read and written in the dead of night lol. I do not write much. Romantic or platonic? Idk you choose :P
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jo-harrington · 2 days
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Chuck (Eddie Munson)
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Summary: It's just a regular closing shift at Benny's. Easy peasy. Nothing bad could possibly happen.
Word Count: 3.5k
Characters: Eddie, Jeff, Benny Hammond
Themes/Warnings: Boys will be boys, friendship, smutty intrusive thoughts, Masturbation(?), Food Fucking, Eddie has an unspecified romantic partner (could be Steve, could be Reader, could be anyone that's not what this story is about), Song Fic, What's a Little Psychological Torture Between Friends…
Note: You know what? In true unhinged fashion, I had to write this for @courtingchaos on her birthday and not only that but give her some credit here. This was born from us being stuck in a car on Lake Shore Drive, hangry and a little slap happy, on the way to Navy Pier after I witnessed something that was probably very similar (in the most innocuous way) at a suburban Burger King.
Meg, you are my life. My world. You are my Cheese. Burger. And this one's for you. Happy Birthday.
Thank you AGAIN to @dr-aculaaa for the beta and @deathbecomesthem for some of the diner lingo. Disclaimer that I never worked at a diner so this is probably horribly inaccurate...but just suspend your sense of disbelief if you have.
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
If anyone wants to get the full effect of this fic, you need to put Mr. Roboto on repeat for the duration of your time reading.
---
5:55PM
Jeff stared at the clock as he wiped down the counter.
Every tick of the second hand had him gritting his teeth a little more, enough where he should probably worry that he was gonna crack a tooth. All because Eddie was late for his closing shift.
Their closing shift.
And not just late, late again. For the third time in as many days they worked together.
If he even showed up.
Now Jeff wasn't one to complain. Shit, Eddie was the one to suggest that he apply at Benny's in the first place and put a good word in for his best friend.
Ben was getting a little older and wanted to enjoy what was left of his youth while he still had it, instead of solely being stuck behind his grill for the rest of his life. An extra waitress on the weekends, an extra line cook during the week, and the business ran smoothly, even when he decided to take a day off.
And Eddie was pretty much employee of the month, knowing all of the regulars orders like the back of his hand.
Until Jeff started getting scheduled alongside him.
Until Eddie started going on dates, and started "going steady" with someone.
Until Eddie started playing hooky to go and suck face and god knows what else while parked up at the quarry.
Jeff let his fist slam against the counter as another minute ticked away, only for the bell of the door to chime and Eddie walk in, shrugging his apron on and shedding his leather jacket in a flustered rush.
"Sorry I'm late," he said with an easy smile on kiss-swollen lips. Jeff rolled his eyes at the sight and at the apology. "Oh come on, I promise I'll be on time tomorrow. Scout's honor." Eddie crossed his finger over his heart.
"You weren't a scout," Jeff retorted.
"Hey now," Eddie teased, starting in on one of his typical Munson-isms that usually ended up in forgiveness or forgetfulness. "I actually was. For one day before some snot-nosed kid pushed me over and I accidentally said fuck. Then they asked me to leave. But once a scout, always a scout."
Jeff hummed and turned on his heel to push back into the kitchen and start prepping for the dinner rush.
The thing was...they worked really well together. They had a good routine of noting what tasks needed to be done throughout the night. It's not like the diner was ever that busy on weeknights and Benny had been doing it alone for years, but it was nice to have someone you got along with at work.
Well it was nice...when they were there. It was nice when your work buddy was actually reliable and helped you out, which made Jeff feel bad because Eddie was his friend, his best friend. But Jeff could let Eddie's luck and charisma let him slide through his responsibilities.
So Eddie was about to find out what kind of hell it was when you were in the weeds alone.
---
Jeff had gone out to take an order when the phone rang.
Eddie grabbed the receiver with a quick "yello'" only to get a familiar voice rasping on the other end.
"Can I speak to Jeffrey please?" came the reply from someone dramatically sounding like Edith Bunker.
Eddie rolled his eyes. "Gareth, I know it's you," he sighed.
"No, this is Jeff's grandma," the younger boy kept up the ruse, snickering a little at the end. "I need to talk to him."
Eddie let his head roll back on his shoulders as he heard the stifled giggling of his friend over the line, and then he peeked his head out of the passthrough.
"Jeff!" he called out. "Your grandma's calling."
Jeff donned an exaggerated and fake look of concern; he jogged across the diner and grabbed the receiver from Eddie's hand.
"Hello?" he answered and Eddie watched as his expressions got more animated, as did his voice. "Grandma? Oh no, what happened...an accident? You need help? You need me to leave work and come home right away?"
"What?!" Eddie shrieked and reached out to snatch the receiver back from Jeff's hand. He placed it against his ear but only heard Gareth laughing and then the ring tone. He was about to ask Jeff what the hell was going on, only to find him pulling his apron over his head. "Come on now, where do you think you're going?"
"I've gotta leave," Jeff shook his head frantically. "It's my grandma, she's in the hospital, I've gotta go."
"Jeff, come on."
"There's no one else to take care of her."
"Seriously. Quit it."
"You'll be ok by yourself tonight right?" Jeff ignored everything Eddie said and looked at him expectantly as he dug his hand in his pockets for his car keys.
For a moment, Eddie felt the panic rise within him; he figured Jeff was a little upset that he bailed the past few nights but...seriously it wasn't anything that Jeff couldn't handle.
Was his friend really that mad?
"Listen I'm sorry I bailed on work a few times this week," he apologized, but Jeff just shook his head and pulled out a roll of quarters.
Then another.
Then another.
And the panic Eddie had faded into curiosity, then realization.
No, Jeff wasn't mad; he was annoyed.
"Hey listen, it's just for tonight so I can check on my grandma, you'll be ok," Jeff explained as he walked over to the old jukebox in the corner of the dining room. He began loading the old machine up with quarters and punching buttons in rapid succession. "I'll even make it up to you. You can have all the tips in the tip jar from before you got here earlier and I'll put on some music that you'll like. Hey look, Ben took your advice and updated this a little.
"He even has your favorite Ed," Jeff glanced over his shoulder. "Styx."
Eddie groaned in loathing this time, thinking of the power ballads and synthesizer nightmares he was about to endure because his friend was gonna get back at him.
The Grand Illusion. Or worse Paradise Theater.
The records inside of the machine shifted as they queued up tracks for the next however-long Jeff had paid for.
"Don't do this Jeff," Eddie pleaded as his friend grabbed his jacket from the coatrack by the door. "I'll never skip work again. I promise. Just stay."
"But my grandma needs me Eddie..." he whined and then winked at Eddie before running out the door. "Have fun."
Eddie sighed and accepted defeat as the door shut and Jeff was gone, all while the sparkly synthesized voice began amidst electronic fanfare...
Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto...
---
7PM
You know what? It didn't start out that bad.
"You're wondering who I am," Eddie sang along and bopped to the beat as he flipped burgers on the flat top. "Secret, secret, I've got a secret."
He had food to cook and orders to take and he fell right back into the routine of those short staffed nights when Benny started to realize how much he valued his personal time, but right before Jeff was hired.
It would be fine.
And there was a little musical accompaniment? Even better.
He figured that he might start loading the machine up with quarters before his shifts from now on, instead leaving it up to the chance of the customers.
"Machine or Mannequin?" He did a little spin. "Secret secret, I've got a secret."
Eddie hadn't even realized that the song that started out the night--Mr. Roboto--repeated itself until he got back to the kitchen, and then it repeated again.
And again.
He had to admit it was growing on him though. Like a cancer, but still growing. So he either needed to adapt or it would kill him. The lyrics were catchy, he could dance to it a little, and there was a good beat that he could almost headbang to if he tried.
It wasn't even that he hated Styx, he just hated what Styx stood for. Mainstream popular music. It was commercial and sanitized. Yeah Babe wasn't that bad of a song. And neither was this one. Shit...if he really thought about it, was the band even really that popular? They were underdogs, and he always rooted for an underdog.
"With parts made in Japan," he sang into his spatula and slapped slices of cheese onto his patties for dramatic effect. "I am thee modern man!"
---
8PM
So if you see me, acting strangely, don't be surprised.
There was a little bell at the pass that got hit whenever an order was up.
Of course, with Eddie being the only one working it didn’t need to get hit.
Still, every time Eddie passed it, he just had to tap his hand on the bell along with whatever verse or instrumental was playing.
I’m a man who needed someone and somewhere to hide.
It wasn’t getting to him.
No. Not at all.
It was just a graduation from him playing air guitar with a broom and drumming on the counter with spoons.
Ding ding ding ding ding, ding ding ding ding ding.
Eddie tapped at the bell with both hands at the crescendo and then went to the walk-in to scream.
Nothing to worry about.
---
9PM
I’ve come to help you with your problems, so we can be free.
“Hey can you change the song at all? This one’s been repeating for a while.”
Eddie smiled tightly at the guy at the head of the long rectangular table and then dropped the blue plate special down in front of him with a clatter.
“It’s broken,” he explained, not wanting to get into it.
Several customers had asked already; it was getting as annoying as people who said they were tipping with kindness. Obviously if he could get another song on the jukebox, he would.
How many fucking quarters had Jeff put in there?
“Could you unplug it? Plug it back in again?”
He’d thought of that too.
But wasn’t it just his luck that they lived in the do-it-yourself amateur handyman Midwest…and the damn thing was wired into the wall itself.
And he really didn’t want to cut the line and have to explain to Benny how an electrical fire burnt down his diner.
“You know what?” Eddie took a slow, calming breath. “This is actually…my favorite song." There was a disbelieving blink. "A-and it’s my birthday.”
The withering look he received made him second guess burning down the place; it actually didn’t seem so bad after all. He could deal with Benny.
I’m just a man whose circumstances went beyond his control. Beyond my control. We all need control.
---
10PM
I am the modern man, who hides behind a mask…
Eddie wore his Freak label proudly.
He accepted it, everyone else accepted it.
But maybe this music was getting to him a little bit as he started noticing of the different inanimate objects around Benny’s that he could potentially fuck.
That was a level of Freak that he really hadn’t embraced yet.
So no one else can see my true identity!
Well, it was sort of always there simmering beneath the surface. He had been a horny teenager and was now a horny young man. There was always a question about what objects he could stick his dick into.
But he’d tried to curb that curiosity after the pool noodle incident.
Now though…he was far enough gone that things were starting to appeal to him again. And it scared him a little bit for those thoughts to pop up during work.
Not enough to stop though.
Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto. Domo. Domo.
First it was a bagel with the perfect hole.
Actually, was it even the music causing this? How dare that bagel look so damn fuckable. Cream cheese wouldn’t be the best lube, he had to admit. But he didn’t mind trying. Unfortunately that bagel was needed for someone’s sober-up sandwich.
Then there was a hole in the vinyl of one of the booths. He stared at it every time he brought out an order or bussed a table. Eventually he couldn’t help himself and he lightly ran two fingers over it and then plunged them inside the hole, like a lover would, only to find the edges were jagged and rough…and he was disappointed that it wouldn’t be the most pleasurable experience.
He wasn’t one to say no to a little bit of teeth when getting his dick sucked but that wasn’t what he was looking for right now.
At one point he even considered fucking the jukebox itself. Get it to shut up once and for all.
The logistics weren’t right.
Where would he even put his cock? Just rub the head of him along the coin slot while he jerked off? Pass.
His depravity needed to be put on hold though, because as he was in the walk-in trying to cut a channel into a head of iceberg that might be the perfect fit for him, he spotted a tub of hamburger with a label in Benny’s chicken scratch saying “discard” with the date.
He froze and let his thoughts swirl before he shook his head and put the iceberg down. He slammed his hand against his forehead as though that would make his internal monologue right itself.
Because what the hell was he doing?
Regardless of the absolute torture he was enduring, he was still at work and had a job to do.
Why was he trying to fuck a head of lettuce? Or fingering a hole in a booth. No, he was absolutely losing his mind, he needed to control himself, he needed to get back to work.
He was about to exit the walk-in when he glanced back at the tub.
“Can't forget that tonight,” he muttered to himself as a reminder.
Then back into the kitchen he went.
Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto. Domo. Domo.
---
11PM
“Thank you very much Mr. Roboto,” Eddie muttered as he dropped maraschino cherries into milkshakes. His voice was ragged, desperate. Pleading. “For doing the job nobody wants to.”
“Thank you very much Mr. Roboto,” he deadpanned as he numbly swept the floor. “For helping me escape when I needed to.”
Thank you.
Thank you.
I wanna thank you.
Please thank you.
Thank you thank you.
Thank you thank you.
“Thank you,” Eddie smiled, as the joy finally die inside of his body as he rang out the last customers. But it was rapidly born once again as he waved goodbye. “Thank you thank you!”
---
12AM
The doors were locked, the lights in the dining room closed.
And Eddie stood in the kitchen with a lit cigarette in his mouth as he concentrated on the task at hand.
The problem was plain to see. Too much technology. The jukebox still played out on the floor.
Machines to save our lives? No. Machines dehumanize.
He shouldn’t be fucking the jukebox or a head of lettuce or a bagel. No. He needed something warm and malleable.
Living.
Or well…close enough.
It was the perfect idea! Instead of taking it right to the dumpster, he’d taken the tub of ground chuck out of the walk-in and let it get to room temp at the end of his shift, and now he was standing there molding it into the right shape.
He was ready and aching after palming himself in anticipation. He’d meticulously wrapped his hard cock in plastic wrap, for lack of a better option. He needed this.
He deserved this.
Why hadn’t he ever thought of this before?
The time has come at last…
He put out the cigarette in the meat then lined up with the channel he'd crafted. He hissed as he sunk in—synthesized angels sung all around him, guitars strumming in harmony—and finally felt relief for the first time all night.
Secret, secret, I’ve got a secret.
His hips rocked in time with the beat, driving deeper and deeper. He felt the slightest bit of cold when he finally bottomed out, the center of the Chuck not entirely at room temp yet. It was an unexpected thrill and he shuddered as pleasure shot through him.
He let his head fall back and he laughed with the feeling, laughed uncontrollably, and the sound echoed through the diner, forever scarring the walls with wicked glee.
To throw away this mask.
It was strange, fucking what was essentially a mass of viscous sludge. Not bad, just strange. Not entirely wet but not dry either. Maybe it was perfect actually, something he never knew he needed. Just for him. A little slice of cheese...er, heaven...just for him.
Especially when he formed meat to suit his desires as it shifted.
That feral grin stayed on his lips as he worked himself to completion, as he pumped mercilessly.
Secret, secret, I’ve got a secret.
And somewhere in all of the hubbub, Eddie came to the conclusion that although it wasn’t perfect, he could get used to it if he had to.
Because he had to.
He'd be stuck here forever, lost in Dennis DeYoung's vocal prison until the end of time.
Now everyone can see my true identity.
He thrust harder and faster, panting and kneading and clenching until all he knew was the meat and secret secrets and his own depravity as he spiraled downwards further into insanity.
I'm Kilroy.
He felt it coming.
Kilroy.
Cumming.
Kilroy.
It exploded out of him with those last few emphasized beats of the synthesizer. He felt the cling wrap bulge with his spend, felt the tingles along his spine and through his limbs as his orgasm shot through his body.
He leaned over, satiated, until his nose brushed the meat in sensuous exhaustion.
Kilroy.
He could hear his pulse in his ears, along with a buzzing din of tinnitus, and the ticking of a clock out in the dining room.
But where he expected the beginning of the next round of torture, Eddie only heard silence.
He breathed heavy, broken breaths. Gulps of air that felt like too much oxygen and not enough at the same time. He felt lightheaded.
It was over.
His punishment finally over.
He closed his eyes and thanked whatever God or Demon gifted him with this boon, and then his eyes shot open and he stood straight up as he stared at the mess he made.
"Fuck."
---
The Next Day, 5PM
Jeff felt like the cat that ate the cream when he drove to work the following day.
He felt a little bad about what he’d done to Eddie, and he had all the intention to make it back to Benny’s around 7 or 8, but Gareth had convinced him not to.
“Come on,” he’d told Jeff. “You know Eddie’s gonna get a good laugh out of it.”
“Yeah! Besides,” Dave interjected. “Shame on him for leaving you up shit’s creek so much. Hopefully this’ll teach him a lesson.”
And Jeff agreed with them.
He and Eddie were friends but that didn’t mean Eddie could walk all over him.
He was glad to see the van parked in Benny’s lot when he arrived for his shift, and as far as he could tell, everything was normal when he walked in.
Ben was at the grill and Eddie at the counter.
Actually, everything looked better than normal. Everything in the diner looked squeaky clean and under the smells of cooked food, there was a tinge of the disinfectant they used to deep clean.
“You must’ve had the slowest night ever if you did a deep clean of the place,” Jeff clapped a hand on Eddie’s back and noticed that Eddie stiffened under his touch. “What time did all those quarters run out?”
Eddie laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck.
“Little after midnight,” he chuckled. “And it was fine. But, uh, now I know better than to fuck with you again.”
“Yeah you’re on time today, you beat me here!”
Eddie grabbed his arm as he passed and then leaned in close, voice pleading and desperate.
“I’ll never be late again, won’t be a no show, but please…don’t ever subject me to that hell again. Please.”
"Scout's honor," Jeff cackled.
Upon Eddie’s look of relief, Jeff headed back to get himself settled.
He chatted with Benny for a second before the older man left for the night. But as he went to the walk-in to get more onions to chop, he noticed something.
“Hey Ed!” He called out through the pass and Eddie turned. “Thanks for tossing that ground chuck! Or…Domo arigato I guess heh.”
He turned back to the task at hand, so he didn’t notice all the color drain from Eddie’s face.
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pink-vulpix · 1 month
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#day 4 on bupropion#i need to vent. bc today was mostly decent. cause at least i could control my emotions and not cry at every little thing#but ended just as badly as i was feeling yesterday. i feel rly sad rn#when im productive i feel great but when im trying to relax? i feel like i need to find something productive to do immediately.#its like i need to do everything but i have no desire to do anything#im like. lying in bed at 2 am grieving my hyperfixations hard. been crying for the past 3 hours#bc i just cant sit down and enjoy anything without feeling like im forcing myself. and i already miss feeling things when i play video game#idk if i can do the 4-6 weeks of this before side effects normalize. everyone says it gets better#and even that is making me feel guilty bc it took me this long to get help and i already want to quit on my first week#i have an appointment with my dr on friday but fuck. the last 3 nights have felt like weeks. its so hard falling asleep.#it really doesn't help that this med is making me. stupid. i have about 10 seconds worth of memory before the thought is deleted#literally forgetting what i'm talking about midway through a sentence#but hey. at least my memory is so bad i cant remember what i did today and overthink every action. i guess.#and maybe tmi. but my libido is gone... like completely nonexistent now#some people literally take this shit to help w a low libido!!! but for me it is doing the exact opposite!!! what is wrong with my body#and to top it off i can't drink even a half cup of coffee without panic attacks. i miss iced coffee already :(#cant enjoy shit anymore and my adhd feels 10 times worse than it did before bc i can't sit still to save my life.#anyway im yapping so much but i need to because im feeling so alone#some side affects im getting r common and manageable but some are pretty uncommon and its hard finding anyone who relates...
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teaboot · 3 months
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I seriously hope you can job hop to something else cause you're not chaotic neutral man.
You're still a white Canadian whose actions and job help more the megacorps keep the status quo.
I really looked up to you but that's on me.
And yeah, I know security, cop shit and military pay good money but at the cost of my people? Fuck no.
Listen. I feel you. But there's a lot of cold, power-tripping bastards in this line of work and if I stick where I am then they don't get to have that.
I'm not a cop. I am not beholden to the justice system. Sometimes I get contracted out to people who say shit like "addicts should be put down, if you see any crackheads drag them out" and I nod and say "yes sir", and then I take their money and use it to buy those people coffee and a sandwich and tell 'em when free lunch days are at the church.
Boss sees me walking with someone and thinks I'm kicking them out, gives my boss great reviews. I'm having a great conversation with Connie, who used to by a stylist and wound up on the street after an accident that left her with chronic pain and a heroin addiction. Connie learns that there's a gap between two property lines nearby where technically nobody can call to have her removed.
There's a really sweet guy in town who's normally very nice, but sometimes flies into paranoid rage and yells slurs at people. Sometimes he forgets he's been banned from places and wanders in looking for a wife he hasn't had for nine years. Owner sends me to kick him out, and I ask "hey Mike, how are you?" And see where we are today.
One time there was a guy whose abusive ex kept following him to work, and I got to walk him to his car at the end of every day to make sure she couldn't get him alone.
Another person had a stalker who kept asking receptionists when she was gonna be there, when she was supposed to leave, if she was in today. I'd keep record of every time he came in, every time someone saw him, every time he violated his restraining order or damaged her things.
And when I wonder if I'm actually helping or not, or if I'm part of the greater problem, I remember that other people who work with me call homeless people wildlife and talk about how bad they wanna get an excuse to fight someone and I remember that I'm the one who knows where the blind spots on the cameras are, and thank God it's not him.
My position is fundamentally different from that of the military or law enforcement. I don't *need* to be buddy-buddy with most of these dickheads- I don't *need* to send people into the justice system.
I do single-person foot patrol. Nobody cares how I get the job done. They say, "Hey, faceless goon number three- make that bastard disappear" and I say "on it, boss" and give him tickets to disney world.
I once asked another guard if he knew that one of our regulars used to be an airplane technician. He said, "No, I don't talk to them". Blanket "Them". "Them" as in street people. "Them" as in addicts, or shoplifters, or ex-cons, or sex workers.
I asked why, and he told me, "it's easier if you don't think of them as people."
Anyhow, now I get calls to "watch that sketchy lady who just came in" and I say, "yes, sir" and leave her the fuck alone, 'cause that's Jolene, and people always think she's on drugs and aggressive but she's just deaf in one ear and slurs cause she has brain damage, you dickhead
so yeah, don't worry, I've spent a lot of time weighing the pros and cons of my vocation, and I still think I'd rather be in charge of my locations than someone like Darryl, who dreams of "cuffing a perp" and drives a car with Punisher decals on the hood
Also it's minimum wage but that's kinda tangential
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lymtw · 1 month
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Ex Bf Toji
Yes, you and Toji used to live together, but falling out, splitting up, breaking up, and any other phrase used to signify the separation of two lovers, typically means no contact, for however long. Toji did the moving and you stayed where you were for however long it took to feel okay with not seeing him every day.
He didn't cheat. Toji is many things, but he is not a cheater. He saw no reason to, just like he sees no reason to forget you.
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He snuck three things of yours into his luggage, to really keep you with him, because you'll get them back at some point, anyway. He took one of your used shirts, an old photo of you and him, and a pair of your underwear. It'll take three days to get you back—he's sure of it. He won't give all of these things back to you in one go, nor will the three days be consecutive. He's smarter than that. They'll be spaced out as he sees fit. When you least expect it, he'll call or text you to let you know about something that he "accidentally" brought with him.
Truthfully, he felt like an old, abandoned dog, the first few weeks that he spent apart from you. He constantly checked his phone, hoping to receive messages from you. He knew it was delusional for him to expect you to text and call, yet he still waited. He moped around his motel room, unsure of what to do, because you were the one who usually planned everything. You were the one who pulled him along with you everywhere, hand in hand. He never lacked excitement or interest around you and he felt safe, but two months later, as he sits on the bed in the same room with the most unnecessary and foul patterns, there's a gross feeling in his gut. Things are too quiet and he absolutely hates it. The silence gives him headaches sometimes and he devastatingly misses your chaos in those moments. He's stuck thinking about you, alone. He doesn't even feel like leaving his room to buy beer to make him feel less or enhance his emotions—whichever comes first.
You know he got it bad for you, when he preferred to use your underwear over and over to get himself off then let some other girl touch him. A third month passed and he still longed for your touch so damn much. He felt like a horny teenager with the way he treasured the garment he stole from you and touched himself to pictures and videos on his phone. Pictures and videos of you. Dirty ones that you would send him through messages, followed by innocent hearts and winky faces, as well as his own personal collection of ones he took.
He misses your smell, your taste—god, you were everything. How could things get so bad that you ended up apart from each other? He could really use your attention right about now. You don't even need to touch him, your company would suffice.
Your voice comes through the speaker of Toji's phone, his name moaned out shamelessly loud as you cum, your phone's camera capturing the whole thing for him. His heart drops to the depths of his stomach at the sound and he ruins the fabric of your pretty, blue panties, deep moans of your name flowing freely.
Toji is just as shameless as you in that video. He swipes off the old video of you and scrolls back down to the bottom of your conversation. It's a good thing you haven't blocked his number.
Hey, I accidentally brought these with me.
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I'm in my room if you wanna come get them.
He's the devil for keeping his cum stain out of the picture, because had it been in there... He's not sure you would have accepted to come get your missing pair of underwear.
I'm off in 20. Room 723, right?
You got it, doll.
You hate that you know where he's staying. You hate that you don't tell him to stop calling you doll, but most of all, you hate that temptation got the better of you. This will be the second time you go see him because he has something of yours.
The first time was a month ago, and it was about a shirt. One that you didn't even know you were missing until he texted you about it getting mixed with his stuff. You didn't reply because two months into your break up still felt too soon to be in contact with him, but he called. He called and kept calling until you answered, and every time he called, your heart would start racing at the sight of his name displayed on your screen.
Your first mistake was answering. His voice made you nervous, in a first date kind of way, the way it was so calm and steady while talking. It was like he was calling on his way home to you from a job. You did your best to be mature about it, but your nervousness shone through with every 'uh...' and 'sure, that should be fine' instead of 'yes'.
When you went to go see him, your stomach swarmed with butterflies at the sight of those dark, fern-colored eyes. You were so nervous and Toji picked up on it because of how you made it your job to speed up the process of retrieving your shirt.
He invited you into his room and your second mistake was accepting his invite. You felt strange being alone with him again. Anxious? No. Uncomfortable? Not that, either. More like homesick.
Toji didn't make it any easier with the gaze he had set on you. He observed your face—your eyes, your nose, your lips. He couldn't stop himself from continuing down the path to your body. Your neck, your chest, your waist, your hips—all things he wanted to put his hands on. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he could feel his heart thrashing in his chest. Having you so close was a rush. His adrenaline skyrocketed every time you looked into his eyes. He couldn't focus. He felt jittery. At some point, he couldn't take it anymore. With a final stuttered breath, he reached for you, and pulled you into him for a kiss. An aggressive one, that left you breathless and conveyed just how badly he needed you.
You didn't know what was going on, but the feeling was far from unfamiliar. The feelings brought on by this spontaneous gesture, you've felt them more times than you can remember, each time so special. It's the reason for why you struggled to push him away. You struggled to maintain the boundaries that worked to prevent this very thing from happening. You were long gone the moment he put his hands on you— the moment he spun you towards his bed and laid you down. It was selfish on both ends. You were both lonely and touch deprived. It shouldn't have gone further than kissing and some over the clothes wandering of hands, but there was a clear deficit of self control, and because of it, your bodies familiarized themselves with one another, again.
You're now standing outside his door, there to pick up an old pair of underwear that you could have just asked him to throw out. You couldn't lie, part of you wanted to see him, just to make sure he's doing alright since the last time you were there. It's been a little over a month since then. Maybe he has a new girlfriend. Even if he doesn't, you don't want the situation to be misread. You're not together anymore and there's no chance of a reconciliation any time soon. It's just not meant to be, for now.
Toji opens the door and the butterflies start their fluttering in your guts all over again. You don't want to listen to them or your racing heart or the sudden throb you feel between your legs, but he's shirtless.
You clench your jaw to prevent yourself from drooling and remember that you're there for one thing only, and it's not for another fuck with your ex.
"You sure you still want them?" Toji asks, when the silence gets to be too much. He unfolds the blue material to reveal the creamy substance that litters the gusset.
"Uh... yeah, sure." You feel your face grow warm. "They'll be good again after a wash." You take them out of his hands and fold them back up before putting them in your bag.
He leans against the doorframe, eyeing you up and down. He's not being subtle, if he's even trying to be.
"I was thinking of you," he says, once again breaking the loud silence. "You know, when I got them dirty." He nods towards your bag.
"Oh. That's..." you stop mid sentence, unable to find a way to end it. "It's fine."
"Wanna come in? You hungry? Thirsty? Tired?"
"None of that. I should get going anyway. Still need to get groceries for the week." You do your best to avoid letting your eyes trail down his body and hope that he doesn't insist. It'll be so hard not to give in.
"I'm sure you have enough to last until tomorrow. One more day without a fully stocked fridge couldn't hurt."
You sigh. Why does he always have to make it so difficult to turn him down?
"A glass of water would be nice."
He hums, satisfied by your response. He takes a few steps into his room, allowing you to walk in. The second you shut the door, he's right behind you, his front flush against your back, pinning you to the door. He bombards you with his touch.
"Knew you'd come, mama. Fuck, I missed you." He's kissing your neck, pulling up your shirt to feel your soft skin beneath his rough palms.
"T-Toji, what are you doing? I'm not here for this." He ignores you and keeps kissing your skin. "We can't do this, again. Last time was..." He's stretching the collar of your shirt to expose your shoulder, where he presses more kisses. "I-It was the last time. We can't."
"We can," he counters, sliding his hand down the front of your pants and into your underwear. "I miss you, baby. Don't you miss me?" He purrs into your cheek.
A sharp gasp leaves you with a brush of his fingertips against your clit. Your hands go to the door to keep you stable.
"I'm not fucking anyone else. Are you?" He asks, watching your reactions to the languid motion of his fingers against your clit.
"Mm-mm," you hum, eyes shut as you shake your head against the door.
"Say it," he mutters, into your ear, pressing his lips against the spot beneath it. His free hand rides up your torso, going up towards your chest. It goes beneath your bra to grope at your breasts.
"Fuck, Toji... No, I'm not sleeping around."
"Yeah? That's good. I'm glad."
"You were an asshole," you say, your voice low. "I shouldn't even be l-letting you touch me." You feel like you're crumbling. You're trapped between him and the door, as well as stuck between pleasure and rationality.
"You know i'm sorry, and you're an angel for letting me touch you after so long. Don't run off so fast like you did last time." His lips go back to devouring the skin of your neck, littering it with marks that will make you think of this moment when you look in a mirror.
"F-Fuck, i'm gonna cum. Gonna-"
Your legs go wobbly and you press your hands more firmly against the door to try and hold yourself up. Toji's arm tightens around you, supporting you as he works you through the intensity of your orgasm. Your whimpers and moans are heaven sent. So sweet and entirely dedicated to him.
"Come on," he mumbles, pulling you up straight, onto your unsteady legs. He turns you around so that he can hoist you up by the backs of your thighs, and as if on instinct, you wrap around him. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, your legs around his waist. It's so strange to feel his warm, bare skin against you, again. Your face is buried into the crook of his neck, like when he would pick your sleeping body up from the couch and carry you to bed.
He sets you down and pulls your shoes off, throwing them somewhere in the room, carelessly. With impatient breaths, he's back on you again, kissing you, and feeling up the body he grew accustomed to holding, but was now deprived of.
"Fuck." He pauses. "Take it all off, baby." He presses chaste kisses onto your lips as he pushes your shirt up, further directing you to undress yourself.
You feel ridiculous for having followed his directions so unquestioningly, but there you are, naked for his eyes, hands, and mouth.
"What are you doing?" Toji asks, confused at the sight of you on your stomach, your face buried in the pillow.
You turn your head to the side, to not muffle your words. "I don't wanna look at you."
"Why's that?" He traces your spine with his fingers, lidded eyes following the invisible trail. "Don't tell me you're still feeling guilty over last time."
You shake your head, wordlessly. You have nothing simple and quick to respond with.
"I wanna look at your pretty face."
You shake your head, again, and he knows he's going to have to melt away your stubbornness. You're not like this. You know he doesn't fuck you like this, ever. It's the first unfamiliar thing to occur since you started talking and since you agreed to meet up and it doesn't sit well with him.
His hands start at your hips and ride up your waist, merging onto your back, going up towards your shoulder blades. He knows of your weakness for when he says things straight into your ear. He has confirmation of this from just a couple minutes ago, when he had you against the door. It brings out a range of emotions from you, but ultimately, it gets you to mellow down a little.
"Let me love on you properly, mama," he starts. Your heart races at the feeling of his breath against your ear. You're throbbing with every deep-voiced mumble and his weight on you again. "Wanna take care of you, pretty girl. Must be so tired after a long day, huh?"
You sigh, releasing some of the built up tension in your body and nod.
"Yeah... I know, doll. Let me make it better."
Just like old times. You miss those days when your schedules aligned and you got to meet at home once you both finished work. It was always a race to see who got there first, but there was never an actual winner when the first thing you would do was shower together. Toji went in before you every time to rinse off the nastier splotches that littered his skin and you joined in on his mark. All the weariness and tension melted away when the water ran down your bodies. These were moments where you were so in love with him. Time slowed down through pressurized squeezes of his rough hands on your weary, smaller muscles, and your softer hands on his more defined and prominent, yet, still aching ones. There were also those delirious, casual conversations that bounced between being so tired that you could sleep together through the rest of the day, but also being so hungry that you could eat a family pack dinner, together in one sitting.
That is why you don't want to look at him. All those memories will come back, again, at the sight of his handsome face. You miss him, too. Your love for him hasn't been completely disposed of, but there's a reason for why you're in his room and not your shared home. Your schedules were unaligned for too long. You barely ever saw each other. You only saw him for brief periods of time in the morning and at night and your days off didn't coincide with his. Date nights became a rarity. Maybe once every couple weeks, you would go out to a place with a peaceful and quiet atmosphere, so that you could get a few hours to remember that you still love each other. Suddenly, he has spare time and it's so hard to deny him when he wants to spend it with you.
"Baby, please," he says, following his words with a kiss to your temple. You let out a deep breath and take a second before you start wiggling under his weight. He scoots off of you and allows you to do what you need to do. Once you're on your back, he wastes no time crawling onto you, again, to begin his worshipping of you.
That warm feeling you used to get around him is slowly seeping back in with every kiss he plants on your face and your neck. The way his hands smoothly glide over your body strangely makes you think of more aggressive times, when he would be so impatient, handling you so swiftly, just wanting to mold his body into yours. The scratches and crescent indentations his blunt nails would leave on your skin from the intensity of it all—you can't forget them.
He nears your soft, warm, blank chest. It's not like he didn't trust your word, but now he has visual evidence of how you weren't lying about not sleeping around. If things hadn't fallen apart between you and him, your chest would be littered with his fading marks on it. You're long due for a round of semi-permanent kisses.
His lips mouth at your chest, wet kisses being spread all over it. You instinctively let one of your hands come up to the back of his head, your fingers coursing through the dark locks of hair. He tries not to react so desperately to the feeling, but your touch is addicting. He doesn't want you to stop. No one has touched him like this since you and it really shows. Between the endless contact of his lips on your skin, layered with soft sighs and the constant caressing of your body, you can tell he's just grateful for being able to have you like this, again.
"You miss my chest?" You ask, acknowledging the amount of time he's spent on the area. He's been leaving marks left and right, between your breasts, on them and beneath them, too.
"All of you, not just your chest," Toji responds, before latching his lips onto one of your nipples. Your other one is handled by his fingers until he gives it a turn in his mouth, his fingers going to the one he just released. He loves being able to feel how your chest puffs and dips with every breath, and how it stutters with the swirling of his tongue over your buds.
"Toji," you call, breathily. Your hand lowers to the nape of his neck, meeting the tips of his hair that graze it.
He releases your breast with a quiet pop, pressing one more kiss to the glistening peak before tending to your call of his name.
"I know, doll. Feeling sensitive?" You nod, in response and he cracks a grin. "It has been a while... and I don't blame you, but you don't answer the phone enough." His kisses start, again, down your body—starting between your breasts and traveling down your abdomen. His lips paint your stomach, unintentional heart resembling marks formed through short-lived stinging sensations. "Can't do this for you if you don't pick up the phone. Just for a few minutes," he purrs, kissing above your navel. His hands cup around your hips, his thumbs massaging the area while he trails his mouth even lower down your body. "And if you don't wanna hear my voice, just answer my messages, mama. It's so fucking simple to get me next to you."
You shudder when his breath fans over your pelvis. Goosebumps rise over your skin all over again and your heart drops when green, lust filled eyes hold your gaze, pinning you down. You squirm beneath his unwavering attention, losing the eye contact battle when his hand goes to your thigh. You see the faintest sign of a smug grin once his eyes refocus on your body.
"How'd you get this gnarly bruise?" He asks, lightly running his fingers over a purplish yellow splotch on the lower part of your outer thigh.
"I ran into the corner of a table. I was in a rush."
He hums, disapproving of your reason, but nonetheless leans forward to kiss it. It brings him back to when he would walk into a room right on time to catch you groaning in pain and flipping off the coffee table while muttering curses, after ramming your knee into the corner of it, or when you would open your mouth in a silent scream after knocking your elbow into something and hitting your funny bone. He really considered putting guards on all the corners in the house, because of the constant bruises he found on your pretty skin.
"You gotta be more careful, doll," he says, kissing the blemish once more before continuing up towards your inner thighs. "Can't have you wearing this pretty body down with so many bumps." His breath grazes the space between your thighs, again. His attention goes from your glistening cunt, to your unsteady chest, before landing on that needy expression on your face that makes his cock twitch.
"You look so pretty." He drags his fingertips through the wetness of your slit, watching the adorable way your stomach quivers at the contact. "So wet over the way I kiss you up," he says, hypnotized by the way your slick connects his fingers to you with every up and down gliding motion. "You're precious, ma. Look at that... You're drooling so much, already." He drags a knuckle through your slit.
"F-Fuck." You shudder beneath his teasing touch. "Please. Toji-" you cut yourself off with a moan when his mouth attaches itself to your throbbing clit and his middle finger slowly sinks into your slick hole. Your thighs twitch in Toji's hold, the pleasure intense with all the fresh stimulation offered by him.
"Sweet as ever," he murmurs, pulling his finger out of your now twitching hole, to suck your juices off. He watches your face contort as two fingers stretch you out, now. Whimpers and moans are released with every curl of his fingers and with his tongue going back to your clit, you can't help all the squirming you're doing. Toji knows your body as well as he knows his own. Those hips rolling against the mattress and your back arching is a sign of your quickly approaching release. The fact that it's happening so fast is endearing to him. You really haven't been touched in a while and he loves being the only one you've allowed to replenish your level of physical intimacy.
You don't even warn him when you cum. Your notice is a sharp gasp, followed by the sweetest moans he's ever heard. Your overload of wetness coated his fingers and dripped onto his palm. Toji watched through dark, lidded eyes, as your chest heaved and your brows pinched with pleasure. Your bitten up lips parted to release heavy breaths and whines of satisfaction. He stopped before the overstimulation could make its way to you, pulling his cum coated fingers out of you and lifting his mouth from your clit.
While he did enjoy being a little mean and overstimulating you back when you were a couple, he knew this was not a moment for that. He said he was going to love on you and he planned to follow through with that.
"Fuck." You sigh, extending your arms above your head, before stretching your body. You groan as your chest rises and your back arches before releasing the tension, a giggle homing into Toji's ears once you settle again. Within seconds, he's face to face with you again, his body invading the vacant space between your legs. His hands go to your wrists, crossing them above your head.
"What are you giggling about?" His nose is centimeters from bumping into yours.
You giggle even more at his proximity and the sly smirk that plays on his lips. "Mm... just came all over your fingers within like two minutes," you mumble.
"You did, huh?" He says, squeezing your wrists affectionately.
"Mhm," you hum.
"That still doesn't break the record," he adds.
"No... It doesn't." You say, through a laugh.
A tension-riddled silence follows, longing looks exchanged during the stillness of the moment. Toji uses his control to lean forward the rest of the way to kiss you. The kiss is soft and slow, despite the way he keeps your wrists pinned, a visual that shows your surrender to him.
He hums against your lips, breaking the lip lock with a quiet smack. "Can I put it in?" He asks, leaning back to see your response.
"Yeah, okay," you say, blushing, but nodding to double confirm.
He releases you so he can remove his boxers and finally release his aching cock from its confines. He's been hard this entire time, but your needs were put ahead of his because, like the last time, he initiated this.
Toji sighs, feeling his cock throb and twitch at the thought of being in your incomparably soft and warm walls, in just a few seconds. As he drags his tip along your slit, he can't help but think about how this would be the first time he has sex since you last let him touch you, a month ago. He might cum as quickly as you did, maybe even quicker.
He keeps a hand on your stomach, rubbing as an act of comfort, as his other hand guides his tip into your hole. He pushes in, keeping his focus on you as he slowly feeds his length into you.
"Fuck, doll. Doing so well. Almost there."
You never get used to the initial stretch. It's not unbearable and you know it's worth it, so you deal with the short amount of discomfort.
"Oh fuck, it's in," he says, mentally relieved that he didn't cum early. You both let out sighs.
After a couple minutes of getting comfortable and picking up a gentle pace, things were good. Quiet sounds of pleasure took over the room. This time isn't as aggressive as the time before. Last time, things happened in a flash. One moment you were just talking, the next you were being fucked incoherent, and before you knew it, you were getting dressed and leaving Toji's room with the most guilty feelings.
This wasn't that, at all. He wasn't slamming his hips into yours or pinching your waist between his hands. His thrusts were paced, like he wanted this to last a while, and he touched you with the gentleness of someone who, wholeheartedly, isn't over you. Someone who still holds an immense amount of love for you.
You're not faring any better, than him. You find yourself wanting to bring him closer. You truly want him all over you. The second you extend your arms towards Toji, he's leaning closer towards you so you can touch him. Your hands make contact with his shoulders and he gets immediate goosebumps. He's working to suppress the groan that's paired with the chills that run down his spine, when he looks at you from this proximity. You let your hands glide up to the nape of his neck and you pull him into you for a kiss. Your cunt flutters around him when his lips move against yours in synchrony, his hips continuing their languid pace. His kisses always leave you breathless, so you end up having to be the first to bail, when you can't compete with his lung capacity. He continues kissing your face, groans released into your cheek and jaw, while you gasp and whimper over his gentle precision.
"T-Toji... Toji- Fuck."
He hums into your neck, his lips brushing against it immediately after. "Miss you... so... fucking much," he pants. "Please..." his voice lowers, and his lips move towards your ear. "Please, baby."
His arms cage you in and you feel smothered by him, like you're drowning in him. He's all you know in this moment. His body, his voice, his touch, his smell. All you can do is feel as he thrusts into you, repeatedly reaching that part within you that renders you the most perfectly behaved angel for him. He can feel the way your chest jolts with every hitch of your breath. He can hear your stifled hiccups up close, as he murmurs needy words into your ear.
"You..." he pants, a subtle groan caught by your ears. "You heard me, right, pretty girl?" He presses a kiss to your earlobe, awaiting your response. You nod, a sultry hum being the only sound you manage to let out. You clench around him, briefly, but long enough for his hips to stutter. "Fuck..." he sighs, burying his face into your neck, again. His hips pick up their pace a little, luring a sharp gasp and a moan out of you. "I-I need you back with me. Miss you lots," he says, muffled by the delicate skin he nibbles on.
"I-I know. I know, Toji. You're not the only one."
"So fucking come back to me, already. What are you doing?"
"Gonna cum. I'm gonna cum," you blurt, writhing beneath him.
"Keep squeezing me like that and you're gonna make me cum," he grunts.
"T-Toji, please," you whimper, the sensation of your nearing orgasm growing stronger. "Toji," you cry out once more, before your wetness gushes out, coating his unrelenting cock.
"Shit," he hisses. He barely has time to watch you when he's on the verge of spewing into you with every clench of your velvety walls. A few seconds pass, and with stuttering hips, a tensed abdomen, and gritted out, breathy curses, he fills you up with his cum. Ragged breaths are released into the air, his chest rapidly rising and falling with every inhale and exhale. He pulls away from you, his eyes glued to you as you work on recomposing yourself.
You're lucent in his eyes. The layer of sweat that coats your neck brings attention to the harsh marks he left on your previously untraced skin. The prettiest blush remains on your face, and those slightly parted lips look so appetizing. The sight is hauntingly beautiful.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer," you tease, feeling him still silently watching you.
He snickers. "You're gonna let me take a picture of you like this?"
"Nope. I was kidding," you say, smiling as you sit up. Toji catches you eyeing your pile of clothes and speaks up before you start reaching for it.
"Can you not get dressed, yet? Stay a little while, yeah?"
Your heart drops at the question. You tell yourself over and over that you won't be spending the night with him, in an attempt to convince yourself that after the worst that can be done with an ex has already been done, this is nothing to worry about. What's another hour spent lying next to him in his bed?
You thought that's all you would be doing together, but then you ended up showering together. His attempt to help you get cleaned up made you crave another round, which he happily indulged in. After that was when you finally lied in bed together and you really didn't want to leave by the end of it all. It was already nighttime and you had gotten so comfortable, almost forgetting that you weren't home with him. Everything smelled like Toji, even you. He kept you in his arms as you discussed the future of things between you two. A weight was lifted off his shoulders when you implied that there's still a chance.
You did decide to drive home that night and when you got there, you sat in your car, just thinking about what happened, for way too long.
The third and final day came a some weeks later. You got better at responding to Toji's messages and his phone calls. Things seemed like they were rekindling between you two.
Hey, can you come see me today?
I'm not in the mood for sex, if that's what you want me there for.
You know that's not the only reason I want you. Come over.
I won't touch you if you don't want me to.
Say something.
Respond.
Oh so you don't want me to get there safe? I'm. DRIVING.
Fuck, doll. Scaring me for nothing. Drive safe.
On the drive to his room, you thought about the conversations you've had with Toji on the phone, these past weeks. Some were short and straight to the point, while others didn't allow you to put your phone down for more than three minutes. His indirectness was usually the cause of longer conversations. He didn't want to seem overbearing, so instead of saying he missed you, he would ask if you had eaten. Instead of saying he missed spending leisurely time with you, he would let you know that that one cheesy movie you like is playing on one of the TV channels.
It was sweet until nighttime came and the messages started straying from innocent longing. Conversations where he was telling you about how much he missed sleeping next to you, turned into him saying that he couldn't sleep because he wasn't holding your chest and smelling your hair. Minutes later when your phone rang, you panicked. You wanted to hear his voice, but you knew better than to try and hold an innocent conversation with him when the messages that preceded the call weren't innocent. You let the phone ring for a few seconds, but the second you heard him, you felt so many things. His voice was so deep and he sounded tired and your heart was beating way too fast. You were feeling things that contradicted everything that made you hesitant to answer his call. With every word he spoke, your mind flooded with sinful thoughts that made the space between your legs viciously throb. Maybe you were glad he was feeling this way from the start, because his voice, his words, and the sounds he made alike, all ended up getting you there.
Muscle memory got you to Toji. You were zoned out the entire time, remembering those texts between you and him, that had you giggling to yourself like when you first started dating. You were in shock when you turned into the parking lot, realizing that your mind was so occupied with Toji, that the drive seemed shorter. You walked right up to the door with the, now familiar, bold 723 on it. A few seconds went by before the door opened. Toji held the door open for you shutting it when you made it into his room.
The first thing you noticed was that he had tidied up quite a bit. It almost seemed like he had just arrived to the room, no clothes on the floor or empty food containers on the counters, but his bed wasn't made and his drawers had unfolded clothes hanging out of them. He's been like this since you lived together. It's just a habit that refuses to die.
"You made a copy of this photo?" You ask, picking up the picture frame that rests on his nightstand. You both looked annoyed in the picture. The photographer kept pestering you to get your picture taken on your date and you had politely declined so many times, but he kept insisting, so you and Toji decided to just get it over with. The photographer said 'smile', and he laughed nervously when you both kept a straight face. He gave up and snapped the picture like that.
"Nah, that's the original. It followed me here, like your clothes."
You snicker, eyes still focused on the way Toji put his arm around you in the picture. "Clothes seem a little more reasonable to haul along by accident, but this was in a box I keep hidden on the top shelf of the closet."
"It's not really hidden if I found it so easily."
"People who don't snoop around wouldn't find it as quickly."
His hands go to his pockets. The urge he feels to hug you from behind to look at the picture with you, is heavy. "It's not snooping if we used to share the closet. When I was packing my stuff, I tried not to leave anything behind, so of course I was gonna check every crevice of the house."
You put the picture down and turned to look at him.
"That was pretty selfish of you. Taking my things, but not leaving a scrap of yours behind."
"Yeah? That was selfish of me?" He grins. "You wanted me to leave something behind?"
"At least a button or... I don't know, one of your sweaters."
"A button or a sweater." He hums like he's in thought. "That's a big jump, doll." He sits down on the edge of his bed with a sigh, a small lump of his blanket flattened by his weight.
"We made a big jump, Toji. One minute we were doing stupid shit like that." Your hand aims towards the picture of you and him. "The next..." you take a deep breath and your brows pinch slightly. You don't want to get emotional. Just thinking about crying in front of him makes you anxious.
His eyes soften, slightly. The mood has shifted and you're tense. It's not how he thought this would go, but he's going to try and make it better anyway. This is it. You have to reconcile by the end of the day.
He pats the spot next to him on the bed, successfully bringing you closer, even if you were off from where he wanted you.
"What we did was hard," you start, again. "You think I didn't miss you as soon as you left home? Or that I was living happily without you, when I didn't answer your messages or calls?" You shake your head. You're trying to hold back your more distracting emotions, but your eyes are starting to feel watery. "No. My head hurt for so long, I didn't want to see anybody, and the worst part was that I couldn't stop thinking of you. It was the epitome of a crushing break up... and I needed you, but I wasn't sure if you would be around. It's what tore us apart in the first place."
Silence fills the room. You feel dumb for spilling your heart out like that. You fold your hands in your lap and hope Toji has something to say in response to your word vomit. Anything, at this point, to slaughter the increasingly, discomforting stillness in the room that is making you want to cry even more.
"I didn't know you missed me, 'til you started meeting me here." He turns his head to look at you. You're still looking down at your lap, fidgeting with your folded hands.
"Yeah, that's not something you say to someone who just became your ex. It would have made things harder on us."
There's another gap of silence while Toji calculates his words. Watching you continue your anxious mannerisms always made him nervous before. It's no different now.
"What if I said I have time for you, now?" He keeps his eyes on you, hoping to see a glint of light in your expression. "Things can go back to the way they were before."
"That sounds good and all, but will things stay that way when we start getting comfortable again? Say... a month from now?" He immediately nods in response. "How about three months from now? My days off are always gonna be the same, and yours-"
"I'll mute Shiu on your days off. No jobs on those days."
You look at him, unfolding your hands. You're not as nervous anymore, now that the talking is back and forth. "You always make exceptions. You've done it before, Toji, and I just don't want to feel second to your work, again. It's the only thing I kept myself out of when it came to you, because I know how... abnormal it is, and look where that got us."
"Listen, i'm serious about making time for you. I've been doing pretty good so far, don't you think?"
He has been. Otherwise you'd be spending your day off cleaning your place and figuring out what to make for your dinner for one. You were off the day before, too, and he called you halfway through the day, on his way back to his room.
"Yeah. I guess you are doing a lot better," you admit.
"Good enough to give it another go?"
You're the one who goes quiet this time, uncertainty coursing through your mind. You really want things to work, but it's scary. Words and these little check ins are all you can go off of, for now. You don't know how it'll be if you officially get back together.
You nod. "I think so. It's been a few months, now. Things do seem better."
He slowly released the breath he held in after asking the question. "Really? You mean that?"
"I do." You give him a soft smile that he feels he hasn't seen in so long. He can feel his heart accelerating, like a kid being returned their favorite toy after being grounded.
"Can you show me you mean it?"
"How?"
"You're sitting so far from me. Come closer," he says, patting his thigh.
"What?" You laugh. He has to be joking. You're literally two feet away from him.
"Come on. Sit with me."
He doesn't seem to be letting go of this, so you scoot even closer to him. With the assistance of his hands on your hips, he uses them as leverage to lift you onto his lap, to bring you as close to him as he can. He looks you straight in the eyes, his green ones so brilliant and warm, you would think he's about to profess his love for you for the first time.
"You got me. What is it, Toji?" You're blushing due to the gesture, a reaction that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.
In one swift movement, his face is buried in your chest, his bulky arms lowered to wrap around your waist. Your eyes slightly widen at the spontaneity of the gesture, instantly softening when he starts talking.
"I felt like I was going insane, mama. I didn't wanna go." He pauses, the warm scent of your perfume working to calm him down. The back of your shirt is tightly wound around his hands. You can feel cool air against the slivers of exposed skin—a contrast to the warmth of his breath on your chest—but you hold him close. "Let me come home or stay here, just don't stray from me."
The mood shifted, again. He felt small and vulnerable, but he needed you to understand that he had feelings about leaving, too. Had things gone the way he planned them in his head, he wouldn't be uttering his sentiments into your chest. You would be watching a movie together, while cuddling and kissing, and overall, making up for the deep affection that was missed during this period of separation, but you have a strange way of making him want to be entirely honest with you.
You cover him up while he clears his mind. This is between you and him. Nothing else matters when it's Toji rambling on about how you've ruined solitary life for him. He can't do it anymore and you're entirely to blame, because you put him on to your hugs and kisses, and you tell him all the things he needs to hear and sleeping is entirely possible with you. He's addicted to you, and it's not hurting anyone, so he can't find a reason to give you up.
You sat in that position for a few minutes. Silence returned, but instead of it being awkward and uncomfortable, it was entirely welcomed. Toji was so comfortable. He could have fallen asleep like that, but you shifted in his lap and pulled him out of his idle state. He was entirely at ease when he lifted his gaze to look at you. Your expression was gentle on his eyes, unspoken forgiveness so clear.
"Come home, tomorrow. No, today. I was thinking about how you're not packed and you still have things scattered. I can help you get it all-"
He cuts off your rambling with a kiss, then another, and then one more. "Nah, i'll come back for my things, tomorrow. I just wanna go home with you, ma."
2K notes · View notes
sanguineterrain · 1 year
Note
how about Jason with the prompt "text me when you get home"? the one time they forget/fall asleep before sending the text and Jay loses hid mind. rushes over expecting them to be dead but they passed out on the couch as soon as they got home
really superbly SCRUMPTIOUS prompt Aud. I love protective jaybird 🥰‼️ thanks for sending something in 🫶
jason todd x gn!reader. worried protective snuggly jason. no warnings really, ya boy is just paranoid and madly in love with you 💓
request something! I rb all fics to @sanguinelibrary
****
As soon as you get out of your last class of the day, your phone rings.
You answer it, wedging the phone between your ear and shoulder as you fish in your bag for a couple of bills. You're already walking to the train station.
"Hi, snookie bear," you say into the phone, slightly delirious with hunger and sleep deprivation.
Jason snorts on the other end. "That's a new one. Hey, baby. Y'heading home?"
"Indeed I am."
"Need a ride?"
You wait and listen. Eventually, you hear the sounds of hitting and grunting in the background. You roll your eyes—only Jason would be in the middle of a fight and then ask if you need a ride home.
"No, I'm okay. It's not dark yet. Plus you sound busy."
"I'm never too busy for you," he says immediately. "And it's gonna get dark in an hour. Are you sure—"
"Yes, Jay," you say gently. "I'm sure. Don't worry about me. I'm going straight home."
You're already at the station. There's a good amount of people, students and workers alike. The university is in a relatively okay part of town, especially during the day. You're not worried. It's not like you traipse through Crime Alley on your downtime.
"Okay." Jason takes a deep breath. "Just—just be careful. Text me when you get home."
You note the hint of worry in his tone. Maybe this week has been particularly saturated with crime. Jason tends to get a little overbearing about your safety when he's had a tough week. You know he had go down to Blüdhaven and help his brother—with what specifically, you don't know.
Most of the time, you're sure you don't want to know.
"I always do," you say. The train pulls up to the station. "Ooh, train's here! I'll talk to you later. I'm thinking of ordering takeout. Too tired to cook."
"Okay, sweetheart. Be safe. Love you. Lock your door."
You roll your eyes fondly. "Yes, Jay. Love you too. Bye."
You hang up as you step onto the train. You pull your headphones out of your bag and shut your brain off during the ride. By the time you get off the train, you've lost hope that you'll be doing any work tonight. You're absolutely wiped out after three back-to-back classes.
It's still light when you get home. You lock the door after you get in, the habit ingrained into you, and dump your bag onto the couch.
Takeout is a no-go. You're hungry now and about thirty seconds away from passing out on the couch.
You change into your home clothes, eat a granola bar, and call it a day. You'll eat more later.
You turn off your phone to bar any annoying notifications and fall into bed, eyes closing immediately.
****
The sound of your deadbolt being teared off its chain wakes you up. You flinch and jump awake, trying to blink through sleep. Your mouth is dry from how hard you slept, and your eyesight is slightly blurry from the sudden flood of moisture.
Your bedroom door swings open, and suddenly you're pulled into warm, heavily muscled arms. You hug back on instinct; you'd know the feel of your boyfriend anywhere.
"Jay, h—"
"You didn't text," he says, voice shaking. "You said you would. I was—I thought you were—"
You tense, guilt knocking into you.
"Shit. Jason, I'm so sorry. I meant to, I was just so tired..."
Jason pulls back to look at you, hands still on your shoulders. His expression is stern.
"I'm gonna pick you up from now on. When are your late days?"
"Jay, no, GCU is across town. You can't possibly pick me up three days a week. That's too much! What about patrol?"
"Somebody else is out at this time," he says stonily. "Crime Alley can wait an hour while I get you home."
His eyes blaze green, a side effect of the Pit. You can tell he's putting every effort into keeping a lid on the worry and fear and anger over your silence.
"Jason." You cup his face. "Honey, I'm safe. I'm sorry I didn't text you. I'm sorry I worried you. But your adrenaline is spiked right now, Jay. Everything feels magnified. I don't need to be picked up. I was perfectly safe coming home. Okay?"
He shakes his head, holding your wrists. "Anything could've happened. I was so—fuck, baby, I was so scared. I-I checked the station footage and the traffic cams, and I didn't see you after you cut through the park, and I thought—I was sure you'd—"
Jason pulls your arms around his neck and buries his face into your shoulder. He supports you by the backs of your thighs, tugging you into his lap. Then he clings tight.
"Oh, Jay," you murmur, petting his curls. "I'm alright. This end of Gotham isn't so bad. And I know you'd have found me even if something had happened. But nothing did."
"Can't lose you," he chokes out.
"You won't lose me, honey," you say. "You keep me safe."
He trembles in your embrace. You kiss the shell of his ear and continue to pet his hair.
"Let me pick you up tomorrow, at least," he pleads. "We'll get dumplings at that place you like. You barely ate anything when you came home."
"Okay, Jay," you say, because you know he needs that reassurance. He won't relax without it. "That sounds good."
You keep stroking his hair. "Y'wanna order in now?"
"In a minute."
Jason lays you both down on the bed. He throws a leg over yours and pulls you into his chest. It's now that you see just how much tension is locked in his shoulders. He's exhausted.
"Jus' wanna hold you for a bit," he says, lips resting on your shoulder.
He's drowsy, the adrenaline finally ebbing. You close your eyes and snuggle into his arms.
"You can hold me for as long as you want," you say, threading your fingers with his. "I'm not going anywhere."
8K notes · View notes
eleganzadellarosa · 5 months
Text
Can’t Do It Like Me
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: jealous ex!choi san x fem!reader
genre: Smut (you already know)
warnings: MDNI (rough sex, jealous sex, cheating (don’t condone it but it fits the plot), choking, manhandling, slight spit play, oral (m and f receiving), mirror sex, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), squirting, daddy kink, degradation, honestly some toxic shit happens)
word count: 4.1K+
A/N: As soon as I think of it, I come straight to Tumblr. Also San if you see this, I’m sorry 😔 Anyways, enjoy and thanks for reading :)
Every year like clockwork you had to be reminded of a past relationship that could’ve been something special. The notification popping up on your phone “Remember this day?” Yes. You did remember and you wish you could forget but you also couldn’t find the strength to delete the pictures.
Choi San. The man you described as “husband material” at some point in time, only to recall the many moments of toxicity that lead to the breakup. From the distrust to watching your location like a movie, he was possessive and sometimes even that was an understatement. He made sure everyone knew you were his and almost got into a few fights over it.
Eventually, you opened your eyes to how you always excused his behavior and finally put your foot down. You deserved a healthy relationship with a person who strives for the same thing. You were glad San wasn’t in your life anymore, he made it too stressful.
But at the same time, you missed him. Sometimes at night when your hands were between your legs, you'd think about him. You loved your current boyfriend, he was just what you were looking for. But with the recent growing distance in your relationship, maybe all good things in your life were destined to come to an end. He was always away for work, only coming home to see you maybe once every two months or so. A year into the relationship is when things started to change and now that it’s going on two years, you constantly felt alone and your vibrator wasn’t strong enough to keep you sane.
Your phone was ringing; a facetime call.
“Omg hey babe, to what do I owe this spontaneous phone call?”
He chuckled before answering, “Hey baby, I’m just calling to ask you a quick question.” He proceeded when you nodded your head. “Are you busy this weekend? The company’s having a joint event with another company and I may need a plus one.” The tone of his voice inflected upwards as he neared the end of his sentence.
Your heart jumped with excitement. Of course it wasn't a logical comparison to how much he loved you, but you felt the need to be paraded around; labeled as "his girlfriend". You haven't been feeling special recently, so a public event would hopefully be the perfect remedy.
“Oh my gosh babe of course I'm not busy! I’ll go choose my outfit right now!” He let out a hearty laugh on the other end when you squealed, jumping off the bed, leaving him to listen to you rustle around in your closet.
You quickly retrieve your phone when you remember and say your “I love yous” and goodbyes before hanging up. Saturday was only two days away so you’d need to put together the perfect outfit within that time frame. Luckily for you, you owned the perfect dress in his favorite color and your only goal was to make him want to completely ruin you wherever he pleases.
It was disappointing to say the least. Everything about this ride felt expensive. The limo itself, the sparking Swarovski detailing on the interior, the bottles of champagne. You felt wined and dined, but the thing you craved the most was missing. He seemed distant in a way. Maybe it was his body language; sitting with his legs turned away from you, dazing into the space behind you as you spoke. Or perhaps, it was the way his hand gripped his phone and peeked at it every time it'd buzz with a notification.
"Maybe he's always been like this" you tell yourself, blaming it on having not been around each other in a while. The thought of the both of you drifting away, tearing at the seams, was saddening. But you definitely weren't the one to blame and neither was he; maybe his determination and drive. As much as you wanted to be here with him right now, your mind kept drifting to San. He would be giving you his undivided attention. A hand or your knee, or knowing San, a seat in his lap. But enough about him, he was too toxic of a person for you to only recall his good traits.
buzz buzz
You looked at your boyfriend from a peripheral view, a bright smile across his face. It made your stomach churn, it just didn't sit right with you.
"Oh who's that?" you ask, leaning over toward him slightly.
He quickly shut it off and put it in his pocket. "Sorry babe, I was just answering a few texts from the guys. We have this group chat with all of us just so we can talk shit about my boss."
"Oh is he an asshole or something?"
"Yes but enough about my job baby, I wanna hear more about you. I missed you so much." He cupped your chin in his hand and planted a kiss on your lips.
You felt bad for thinking so ill of him when nothing was going on. Maybe that was something you never let go of with your relationship with San. He taught you what real anxiety was and you could never forgive him for that. The limo came to a stop and you peeked out the window to your right to see the destination. You felt like a movie star as you gazed at the long staircase in front of the building. You imagined each side lined with paparazzi, ready to take pictures of the beautiful couple exiting their limo.
Your door opened before you realized you had been daydreaming. Your boyfriend extended his hand for you to grab hold and finally walk up into the venue for the night. The inside was just as gorgeous as the outside. Chandeliers, marble flooring, expensive art lining the walls; the whole nine yards. When everyone comes into view, his arm is immediately around your waist. He introduced you to his colleagues and even to his boss which made you chuckle thinking back on the secret he told you about earlier. Everything was going well for you, yet for someone else, things were moving in a terrible direction.
San spotted you from across the large space, the conversation he was having fading completely the more he watched you. His jaw shifted and clenched seeing your boyfriend with his arm around your waist and hand on your ass. He didn’t deserve you. Sure San knew he wasn’t always the best boyfriend to you, but he could do so much better than whatever your boyfriend was attempting. Based on how giddy you looked, you probably haven’t seen him or spent much time with him lately, or so San thinks.
He remembers like yesterday hearing you tell him that you couldn’t be with him if he didn’t change, and at the time he couldn’t understand what that meant. He thinks he’s matured since then, at least in the way you wanted him to but seeing another man touch you made him realize maybe he has a lot more growing to do if he wanted to stay true to his claims.
He excused himself and made his way over to you. There was nothing wrong with going to talk to his absolutely beautiful ex girlfriend right? Your eyes widened seeing the broad shoulders clad in white approaching you. Your stomach twisted in knots, from both anxiety and flashbacks of your last encounter with him.
“Fancy seeing you here gorgeous.” San reached his point of interest, staring down the man at your side.
“San…how wonderful it is to see you.” You spoke with a forced smiled, trying your best to slow your heart rate. “How’s life treating you?”
It really was quite the surprise seeing him here, as this was the last place you thought to be bumping into him. It got you thinking what this event was for and how the hell he was even invited. Maybe, as you were, he was just someone's plus one. Although, that didn’t take away from the fact that you didn’t want to see him right now, especially knowing how weak you were for him still.
“Hmm it could be better if a certain someone was still in it.”
At that, your boyfriend turned to San, lip turned up in annoyance, “Do you know this guy babe?”
He and San exchanged fighting glances and you stepped in before things could get heated. “Yeah he's…an old friend. This is San.” You weren't sure why you lied, but it felt better to not reveal too much.
Your boyfriend extends his hand out to San reluctantly and San rolls his eyes before finishing the handshake. Things went well for the most part, although you would catch San staring at you, even throwing in a wink one of the times. Luckily your boyfriend caught none of it, knowing it definitely would have engaged his fight or flight response.
After a while, your boyfriend received a call on his phone and he excused himself saying it was important. You dismissed it and he gave you a kiss on the cheek before he walked away. San caught glimpse of the interaction and sneakily followed behind him through the heavy back doors. You stood by yourself at the table, taking small sips of your champagne. A hand slides across the small of your back and rests on your left hip. You turned expecting your boyfriend, only to see San with an unreadable expression. You tried to sidestep out of his hold but he tightened his grip on you.
“Hey don’t leave yet, we haven’t even gotten the chance to really talk beautiful.”
“Yeeeah…San we can’t be doing this right now.” You put a hand up to his chest and he backs away slightly.
“Doing what? Talking? He won’t let you talk to your friends?”
You scoffed, “No, he’s not controlling. And we’re not friends. It’s just I don’t know how comfortable I am talking to my ex who just put his arm around me.”
He rolled his eyes again, shifting his stance to prop a hand on the table, leaning against it to look at you. “Hmm well part of me thinks he doesn’t care.”
If only he wasn't starting to piss you off, you could finish admiring how good he looked. Wider shoulders, more defined arms and even his pecs were bigger. But you knew San and how he was when it came to you. He was possessive, sometimes it was for your own good but most times it just felt like he needed control over you in every way or he wouldn’t survive.
But you had to admit, that was his only flaw. Everything else about him was absolutely mind blowing, especially when it came to satisfying your needs. Your mind ran wild with thoughts. Thoughts of things you shouldn’t be thinking of as a taken woman. Yet, San making eye contact and the firmness of his chest under your hand earlier flooded you with memories of every time he’s fucked you into the mattress.
This was starting to get a bit out of hand and you weren't sure what else San had up his sleeve.
"You look good in your dress." He said looking you up and down, practically eating you with his eyes.
Come to think of it, he was the first to comment on your dress, your boyfriend hadn't mentioned it at all tonight. "Thank you, you also look very nice." You averted your eyes as you took another sip from the glass.
He stood up straight and stood a bit closer to you and rubbed a hand down your back as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, catching you off guard. It made it ten times worse with your dress being backless and the fabric dipping dangerously close to the waistband of your lace panties.
"If I were him, I'd take you somewhere to fuck you in it. Makes me wonder who he could be on the phone with right now. Think about it, if it were me, I would have my hands all over you.”
He was right. It was a fear that seeped into your subconscious every time he would miss one of your calls and blame it on work and how he acted in the limo earlier. He was starting to feel more than an arm's reach but you knew his job was demanding. So when he asked you to come out with him tonight, you decided to forget it all and allow yourself to have a great time and hope you would end your night moaning his name.
You hated San for bringing the thought back to you and you hated that his possessive personality was also a turn on at times but you knew better than to let yourself fall in his traps. A blush grew on your cheeks feeling the warmth of his breath tickle your ear. This was bad, you needed to stop him in his tracks before your boyfriend came back and questioned you. This had to end right here right now.
You pushed him into the nearest room, one you didn’t expect to be a bathroom, but anywhere was fine as long as no one saw where you went and with who. You carefully locked the door and turned to face him; he already had that arrogant smirk on his face.
“San what the hell?!” You shoved him on the chest. “I was hoping you weren’t going to cause any trouble, but I guess I was wrong. Why do you want to fuck up everything for me?”
He rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Are you even happy? You melted right into my touch earlier.” He walked closer to you, pinning you between him and the sink. “I didn’t say anything wrong either, he's a joke of a boyfriend whether you want to admit it or not.”
You rolled your eyes and scoffed, "Oh what? you think you can do better?"
He stared down at you, face contort in a stern expression. “I know I messed things up for us, but I think we can both agree that he doesn’t deserve you.” He grabs your hand and slides it down his chest, all the way down to his crotch.
“Feel that? You miss it don’t you? He must not fuck you good enough. He must not fuck you how I used to.”
“San…” he put a finger to your lips.
“Oh baby…I can see it written all over your face. Just ask me and I’ll give you what you want.” He steps even closer to you and tilts your chin up with his finger. “Say you’re my slut and I’ll fuck you better than he ever could.” He lifted you and sat you on the edge of the sink.
So much for not falling into his traps. You looked up at him with doe eyes and he looked down waiting for your answer. “I’m your slut…San please…” you were damn near out of breath and your head was spinning with how badly you wanted it; wanted him.
A pleased smile spread on his face. “My good girl, I knew you could do it.” His fingers tapped onto your lips and you happily sucked on two while he kept eye contact. He took them from your mouth and used them to rub slow circles on your clit. “Good girls kiss daddy.”
He lowered his lips onto yours, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues danced together as he slipped his fingers into you. He wasted no time pumping them quickly against your sensitive spot, earning whines and whimpers.
“You need to forget him for a while and let me make up for all the shit he can’t do.” He spread your thighs and kneeled down between them. “I want you to remember this next time he even thinks he can do better than me.”
He kept eye contact while he licked along the slit of your still clothed pussy, stopping to suck harshly on the clit. You were holding your breath, your last resort for trying to keep in your moans. He hasn’t done much and your toes were already curling. He finally pushed your panties to the side and circled his tongue over your bundle of nerves.
Your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him closer to you, bucking your hips slightly against his face. He grabbed your legs and made them rest against his broad shoulders, your heels digging into his back. He added a finger into the mix, breaching your walls in an attempt to get you louder. Surely it was working more than you'd have liked.
Your head leaned back almost hitting the mirror as your chest heaved. Your toes curled and you pulled harshly at his dark locks making him groan against your skin. He sat up and roughly rid you of your panties before shoving them in his pocket.
“You don’t need these anymore. On your knees.” The way he said it gave you no room to disobey, so you shakily hopped off the sink and he pushed you down onto your knees. He unzipped his pants, letting his dick pop free. Thick and heavy looking as always and now you wanted nothing more than to wrap your lips around it. He grabbed your chin in his hand, “Open.”
You opened your mouth to let him spit in it, he loved messy head and he knew you did it best. He wasted no time in shoving his dick into your mouth and almost down your throat. He gathered your hair in his fist and bobbed your head at a quick pace.
“Go ahead, touch that pussy while I fuck your throat. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”
He knew how much you loved to be dominated, it was easy for him. The look of you on your knees gagging on his dick only made him harder and want to fuck your throat faster, but he wouldn’t be satisfied if you left this bathroom before he got to bend you over.
He pulled you off of him admiring the tears brimming your eyes and the puffiness of your lips. It was crazy to think that your boyfriend was the one sleeping next to you every night and San’s bed was empty. He deserved you more than some man who he found saying “I love you” on the phone with another woman. He deserved to fuck all your worries away. If you gave him a second chance, he would do better. Better than anyone else ever could. You were his forever and you seemed to have forgotten that, but he didn’t mind reminding you.
“Bend over the sink.” He kissed along your spine when you did, your eyes closing in ecstasy. “You ready for this dick?” He was so close, lips ghosting over your ear sending shudders down your back.
As soon as the word “yes” left your mouth, you felt the head of his dick rub harshly between your folds. Your chest felt tight, your heart was beating fast and you could barely keep your eyes open. He kissed in the crook of your neck making you look at him through the mirror as he slid in until he bottomed out. You could cum just from that small movement alone but you’d much rather wait until he fucks you right.
“You missed this didn’t you?” He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in causing you to yelp from the sudden action. “I missed this pussy…I missed you.” His thrusts sped up to a demonic pace, the wet noises from the constant slapping of skin filled the bathroom effortlessly.
“S-san it feels so good~” you said through moans.
“I know baby, but I’m sad because you’re not using my name.” He used his other hand to wrap around your neck. He squeezed and made you even more lightheaded; It was perfect. “You didn’t forget it did you?”
“N-no Daddy n-never.” It was true and it was why you were never able to use it for your boyfriend. As much as you tried to forget San and how much he consumed your life, it was hard.
He tightened his grip on your hips and rolled his into yours. Of course it was wrong, but this is the most pleasure you’ve felt in a long time; admittedly since the last time you were with San. He had a way of handling you that set your senses on fire. He was exactly what you wanted and with the expectation of getting fucked tonight, you didn’t want to foil your own plans.
“Look how I fit right in. This pussy is mine forever."
He raised one of your legs onto the sink and grabbed a fistful of your hair, continuously plunging into you. Your eyes were rolling back and he patted your cheek, bringing your attention back to him.
“Mm mm, look at you. Look how pretty you look fucked out on my dick. Watch me fuck you just how you like.”
You didn’t want to see yourself in this state, it only made it feel more real. Your tongue lolled out slightly, one strap of your dress draped low on your shoulder and he held one of your breasts roughly. It was a lewd sight to say the least and the sounds that were coming from the speed San was fucking you made it no better.
There was a knock on the door and your head tried to whip in that direction but San tugged harder on your hair. He quickly told the person on the other side of the door that it was occupied, not expecting for them to say anything back.
“Y/N are you in there?” The voice of your boyfriend grated against your ears like nails on a chalkboard. You were guilty and moaning like you were unable to produce any other sound.
San’s eyes darkened and he smiled wickedly. “Oh yes she is and she’s busy.” He leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “Let’s put on a show for him, let him know who owns this pussy.”
He sped up his thrusts and quickly rubbed on your clit. You squirmed in his hold, trying to do everything you could to not scream from the pleasure. Nothing worked and now your boyfriend and maybe several other people could hear what you and San were doing.
“This pussy all for me?” He was an expert with how he rolled his hips into you; he was so deep and repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.
“Fuck Daddy, yes! It feels so good!” Your legs were like jelly and your orgasm was a few more thrusts away.
“You’ll never find someone who can fuck you like this? Who can make you beg for it?”
You whimpered loudly in response. You thought it wasn’t possible but he fucked you harder, fucked you faster and with the abuse on your clit there was no more delaying your bliss. You came hard, squirting onto the floor and partially on the man behind you. Your walls were squeezing him so tightly and he loved every single second.
"You gonna let me cum inside so you can take me home with you, hmm?" His thrusts were getting sloppier but he never slowed down and never stopped rubbing your clit.
The overstimulation and the way he spoke to you was driving you mad, you didn't think about anything else in this moment besides making this a night to remember.
"Yes Daddy fill me up, please please please!" You knew he loved it when you begged, especially for him to empty all his cum in you. Tonight was no different and he came in a few more thrusts.
"You did so well baby, took it so well." He gave you more kisses to your shoulder as he gently pulled out and let go of your leg.
By this time your boyfriend was already banging on the door, demanding that you let him in. San made sure to clean the both of you up before he let you out of his sight. You walked to the door, taking a deep breath as you unlocked it; San close behind. Your boyfriend looked like he could pop at any second with how red his face was.
"Are you fucking kidding me?! You see one old friend and you let him fuck you in the bathroom? IN PUBLIC?!"
He almost shoved at your arm, but San does it to him first. "I don't suggest you follow through with that. And maybe next time you should make sure your girlfriend is happy before you start running your mouth."
"That IS my girlfriend, back the fuck off!"
"Oh her?" San points and quickly glances in your direction. "No, she's mine, I was referring to the one you were on the phone with, but maybe you're already forgetting about her too."
And with that, your now ex-boyfriend had nothing left to say but apologize to you as you walked away with San. Maybe all things did come to an end, but perhaps for good reason.
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wileys-russo · 3 months
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forget me not (2) II l.williamson
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part one forget me not (2) II l.williamson
"mum i need to go."
"leah no-" but her mums words were cut off as the blonde clicked end call, fingers flying against her screen until she found your contact, call after call declined until it stopped ringing all together.
she then moved to texting, sending message after message until the 'do not disturb' notification popped up and her stomach heaved, you never put your phone on do not disturb.
her guilt peaked even higher noticing all of the messages above those she'd sent to you in a panic, clearly prior to your graduation and worrying about her whereabouts.
(8) iMessages from; lover girl 💐 hey baby i just arrived, you were dead to the world when i left (shock x) i'm kind of nervous! they just handed out our caps and gowns, its feeling really real now. what if i fall over when i'm walking up?? someone just put that thought in my head and now it won't go away 🥲🥲 i can't wait to just look out and see your pretty face, you can always ground me even without trying💘💘💘 *three missed calls* less just called me, she's leaving soon so i hope you're up and showering! i know you're not the best texter in the morning anyway grumpy 🫶🏻 we have to switch our phones off and leave them in our bags now babe but i'll see you in a little while. still so nervous ah! your support means everything, i love you leah 🩵
even though leah knew you were upset, the fact you hadn't made any attempts to call or message her after her no show only solidified it further for her, the blonde selfishly sort of wishing you had to ease her guilt even just a little.
"fuck!" the girl swore as she threw her phone on the passenger seat, burying her face in her hands with a deep and prolonged exhale. "okay think leah, think." she mumbled to herself, fists balling and rubbing against her eyes until she saw stars, head thumping back against the headrest.
grabbing her phone again she winced seeing the multitude of other missed calls, from alessia, your mum, your aunt, your best friend, all worrying that something had happened to her for her not to show up, the sweet messages from your mum checking in if she was okay hitting her in the stomach in a different sort of way.
"alessia!" she realized, quickly hitting call on the girls contact, feeling like an idiot for not even noticing her friends absence and putting two and two together, this was a brand new low.
"come on!" leah grunted, calling the younger girl easily six times and each one going right to voicemail, finger hovering over your mums contact before abandoning that idea with a shake of her head.
"shit." leah swore again checking your location and noticing you'd stopped sharing with her, biting down on her bottom lip as her knee bounced and her fingers drummed against the wheel wracking her brain for anything.
"fuck me leah where did she say the celebration was afterwards?" the footballer mumbled to herself, eyes squeezing close as she tried to think back, unable to even remember you mentioning your graduation in the last few days, another nail in the coffin of realizing she had been an awful girlfriend to put it lightly.
a sudden spark of hope she grabbed her phone again, clicking into instagram and huffing when both you and alessia hadn't posted anything, searching up several of your friends and families accounts finding the same wall of silence in her way.
growing even more desperate leah clicked into an app she checked maybe once a year, only keeping her facebook active for the sake of her childhood friends.
"thank you aunty gillian, thank you!" leah whispered as a quick scroll of her feed showed your godmother had posted some pictures from the graduation and the post ceremony celebrations, a quick zoom confirming the restaurants name on a menu on the table.
without another seconds hesitation she was putting the address into maps, car roaring to life as she peeled out of the colney carpark at top speed, flying across town and swearing loudly as she seemed to hit every red light in all of london.
"williamson." she barked to the valet as she screamed to a halt in front of the hotel where the restaurant was, throwing the keys at the young boy who didn't even have time to say a word before she was pushing through the double doors and bursting inside.
"m'am im really sorry you can't-" the hostess tried to stop leah as she barreled past, ignoring her completely and hurrying into the restaurant. it didn't take her long to find your closest friends and family on a big table in the corner, alessia spotting her before anyone else did and eyes widening.
though as leah came to a screaming halt in front of them, the table falling quiet as they took her in, still clad in an arsenal tracksuit with wet hair and frantic eyes looking as you would have said had you been present, a hot mess.
"no auntie ava its alright, i'll handle it." alessia murmured to your mum as leah shrank under the scrutiny and harsh glares from your friends and family, nobody impressed with her no show even if they didn't know the full story.
"you need to leave, right now." alessia warned, grabbing the blonde by her bicep and pulling her away from the table, around the corner and out of view. "less please i can-" leah started as the younger girl held up a hand.
"i don't care leah. i've just gotten her to calm down after she's just spent twenty minutes crying in the bathroom after her big day!" alessia warned, leah taken aback by the venom in her teammates tone, the girl normally so sweet butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
but there was one thing your cousin didn't mess about with, and that was family.
"she cried?" leah deflated, voice barely above as whisper as the taller girl nodded. "yes leah she cried several times, she's heartbroken that her girlfriend didn't show up for her graduation. but rather chose to go to the same training we have four or five times a week, she saw on instagram." alessia growled, poking accusingly at leahs shoulder.
"nope." alessia held up a hand again as leah opened her mouth to pour out another excuse or hurried apology.
"i told you leah, i don't care. she deserves to enjoy the rest of her day, you've ruined enough and done more damage than you can apologize for in the two minutes you've got to leave before i let my brothers escort you outside." alessia warned seriously, jaw clenched and still gripping harshly onto leahs arm.
"but less-" "leah, go."
but right as your girlfriend was ready to get on her knees and beg alessia to get her even one minute of your attention, you came stumbling around the corner in search of your cousin.
"baby-" leah started, falling quiet with a hiss as alessia sharply pinched her and moved to put her body in between the two of you like your own personal security guard.
"you have some nerve!" you laughed, leah frowning at the slur in your voice and the way alessia hurried to catch your swaying body, shooting the older blonde a filthy glare over her shoulder as she steadied you and mumbled something in your ear.
"no i know. i'm done crying over her!" you responded, leah swallowing hard as her knees buckled with how much anger was ablaze in your eyes as your gaze moved back toward her.
"you're a little late." you mocked with a pout, voice dripping with sarcasm as your eyes burned holes in your girlfriends head, trained on her like lasers.
"bubba please if you just-" "don't leah, don't call me that." all the anger seemed to deflate out of your voice at that, the obvious hurt and betrayal in it wrapping around leahs heart and squeezing tight like a fist.
"i don't want to hear the excuses, or the apologies, i don't even want to look at you leah. i have never been so let down or dissapointed, hurt, angry, sad." you listed off every emotion which was wracking your body, pausing for a moment and swaying a little leaning into alessia more.
"i have been there for you, for everything leah. i was there by your side every day when you did your acl, through the rehab and recovery good times and bad. i didn't leave when you yelled, when you snapped, when you hurled insults just for helping because i knew you were hurting and you weren't lashing out at me." you shook your head as leah felt sick to her stomach.
"i was there for you during the world cup. i stayed in england to be there for you, watching my own cousin playing the tournament and living out her dream through a phone screen, not daring to mention the games because i knew you were devastated to miss it." you paused to swallow the tears which brimmed at your eyes.
"i have put up with a lot of shit leah, dismissed a lot of things because i love you. but this...this isn't something i can sweep under the rug and excuse because you're hurting and i want to support you. today i needed you, i needed you to support me and you couldn't even do that." you whispered, wishing you had another drink in hand for a spike of liquid courage which was bleeding rapidly out of the open wounds your girlfriends actions slashed you with.
clearing your throat you continued, tilting your chin up a little higher. "less already took me past our place and i grabbed a bag of stuff, i'm moving in with her for awhile. i don't want to see you, hear from you, nothing, until i am ready leah. i never thought you of all people were capable of hurting me like this, now please go." with that you turned around, stumbling slightly but catching yourself with a sharp inhale and marching back off to the table.
"no. leah you heard her, you need to leave." alessia's hands pressed against her chest as she tried to follow after you.
"like i said, you can go on your own terms leah, or i'll get my brothers." your cousin warned seriously, leahs mouth opening and closing before she gave in with a nod, turning and walking away.
~
"its another one for you!" you looked away from the football match your cousin was currently forcing you to watch, alessia appearing seconds after the bell had rung with another bunch of flowers as you got up with a sigh.
"she's consistent, you've gotta give her that." alessia shook her head as you took the flowers from her, perching herself on the arm of the lounge as your eyes scanned over the card.
"we look like we own a florist shop." your cousin commented, eyes roaming over the countless bunches of flowers littering the living and dining rooms.
"i've texted her telling her to stop!" you shook your head placing down the bunch with a deep seeded sigh, dragging your hands down your face. "what are you thinking?" your cousin asked knowingly as you wandered back toward the lounge, collapsing into it as she spun around on the arm to face you.
"i don't know." you exhaled honestly, face buried in your hands as alessia kicked you gently, looking down with a raised eyebrow. "its been two weeks and i miss her." you admitted honestly, sitting up with a slight grunt.
"but i'm also still really hurt and upset and there isn't an excuse under the sun she could make that would help that go away." you added on, grabbing a throw cushion and pushing your face into it with a scream.
"would you consider hearing her out anyway?" alessia asked, playing devils advocate as you looked back up with another sigh. "yes? no? maybe?" you groaned, laying back down on the lounge in a world of indecision.
"sounds like you want to. but you're a little scared of what that might mean? just hear her out, it doesn't mean you have to go running right back into her arms but it'll mean you're not sitting here wondering what it is she has to say." your cousin read you like a book with a small smile. "i hate that you're always right." you shook your head as alessia chuckled.
"just looking out for my little piccoli ravioli!" your cousin cooed, a grunt leaving your body as she dove on top of you, pinching your cheeks and shaking your head side to side before rolling off of you.
"you know i can very easily smother you in your sleep russo."
none the less you took her advice, reaching out to your girlfriend? ex girlfriend? you weren't even sure what the two of you were at this point given you'd had practically no contact for the last fortnight.
which is how you found yourself a few days later taking a deep breath, hand on the door to the coffee shop you'd agreed to meet up with her at, steadying yourself with a nod before you pushed it open.
you spotted her right away, her eyes trained on the door and hand raising to wave you over the very moment you stepped inside. "i got your usual, sorry the ice melted a little...i was early." leah started with a slight blush as you sat down, pushing the iced latte across the table.
"thanks." you gave her a small smile, taking a sip as an awkward silence settled between you two. "should i start? is that okay?" leah blurted out suddenly, knee bouncing nervously as you nodded and she exhaled shakily.
"i'm not going to waste your time making excuses or apologizing over and over or grovelling." leah started as you quirked an eyebrow and sipped at your drink, curious where she was going with this.
"i'm just going to be honest instead, get right to the point. baby i was a selfish blind asshole, to say the least. i took you for granted. i did not support you even a tenth as much as you did for me. i don't deserve you, i don't deserve a second chance." leah paused, meeting your eyes for a moment as you nodded for her to continue.
"i forgot about your graduation, i didn't care enough to remember despite all the little hints you left me that you shouldn't have even needed to. theres no nice way to say it, theres no excuses for it, no lies. i didn't prioritize you, i didn't respect you or your achievements or put your needs above my own when thats all you've ever done for me." leah sighed, fiddling nervously with her hands in her lap.
"i was so blinded by the joy of being back on the pitch, kicking a ball, being with the girls again. all i was focused on was making the roster for camp, returning back to glory and my captaincy and playing full games for arsenal again." leah admitted, neck and ears flushing hot with embarrassment.
"but nothing, not football not arsenal, not anything, should ever take priority over me being a good supportive life partner and girlfriend. you were right you have put up with so much from me, done so much for me, pushed aside your feelings and your problems to put mine first, and i couldn't even do that for a day when you've done it since the moment we got together." leah continued, shaking her head disappointed with herself.
"love there isn't enough apologies in the world that i can ever say to make up for it. obviously i am incredibly sorry, but you deserve better than words you deserve evidence and action and commitment." you were taken by surprise as leah suddenly stood.
"if you will please please please just come with me for a quick drive i have something for you." she hesitated for a moment before offering you her hand, a confused and skeptical frown on your face as you sized her up.
"its not more flowers, is it?" that caused a small smile to make its way onto the blondes face as she shook her head.
"no, no more flowers."
~
"seriously? leah this is all very weird." you shook your head as she pulled up outside your shared home, a place you'd not stepped foot in for just as long as you hadn't seen your girlfriend for, holding out a blindfold.
"i know i know i know. and i'm sure you don't right now which is completely valid, but i need you to just trust me and put this on." leah bit her bottom lip sheepishly as you sighed, giving her a hard look before snatching it out of her hand.
"no! i've got it." you smacked away her hand which tried to help, tying it up yourself as your heart rate sped up the moment your world was plunged into darkness.
"can i grab your hands? please?" you heard the car door open and flinched a little, nodding slowly as you felt leahs warm hands interlock with your own, pulling you up to your feet as the car door closed behind you.
"step, step, rock, puddle, another step, three more steps, gate." leah announced each reason for moving you, your frown deepening as you realised she was leading you around the side and toward the backyard, ears straining and senses heightened trying to work out what was going on.
"leah!" you huffed as you tripped and almost fell, strong hands steadying you as the blonde winced. "sorry...one more step."
"okay, i'm taking the blindfold off now." leah sighed shakily, and you felt her hands trembling slightly as they fumbled around clumsily with the knot on the back of the blindfold.
but persisting she finally got it, wincing as it slipped away and the sunlight struck you in the face. but that was nothing compared to how high you jumped at the large yell which sounded next, your hand coming to cover your mouth.
"happy graduation!"
"what? this is..." you trailed off, all of your friends and family and colleagues gathered around the backyard, fairy lights strung up in trees and a long table splitting the yard in half decked out with flowers and food and candles.
you tensed as leah grabbed your hands again, moving to stand in front of you with a smile. "i know i ruined your special day by not showing up for you. but you deserve to have your achievements celebrated in a way even half as big and special as you are, and everyone who knows you and loves you agrees, and they're here to show that to you." leah explained softly, another cheer ringing out from the crowd in your backyard as you both looked across with a laugh.
"you organised this?" you asked as leah nodded, letting go of your hands. "i'm not asking you to move back in tonight and forgive me right away. but i hope this is a step in the right direction to me showing you that you mean more to me than anything in the world, and i was such a fucking idiot to take that for granted." leah promised sincerely as your features softened.
"thank you." you caught her off guard by pulling her into a hug, admittedly melting into her taller form as you held one another tightly, your guests all turning back into their own conversations as music started up and chatter floated through the air.
"you're very very welcome. now go and be celebrated!" the blonde pulled away and gently pushed you toward the crowd, smile on her face as you nodded, turning and stepping toward your parents first who cheered and handed you a flute of champagne.
"did you know about all of this?" you tugged your cousin aside around an hour later once you'd made your rounds greeting and chatting with everyone, the sun setting as leah was busy setting up the catering she'd organised for dinner, lia by her side helping out as a fair few of the arsenal girls hung about, good friends with you through both leah and alessia.
"who do you think helped her grovel for forgiveness with the whole family?" alessia smiled knowingly, sipping at her drink. "the whole family?" you asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise as your cousin nodded.
"mhm, had me gather everyone at your mums place and she stood in front of them all delivering a speech about how much of an idiot she is and how much you mean to her, and how first and foremost she wanted to make up for ruining your day, even if it didn't mean you'd take her back." alessia explained as you glanced at leah over her shoulder, a small smile curling into your lips at the way she helped your nephew dish up his food, chattering away to him and pulling silly faces making him giggle.
"was it brutal?" you asked with a chuckle, alessia wincing. "horribly horribly awkward. nonna ripped into her, then your mum, then my mum, then your brother, then my brothers, then-" alessia recounted as you cut her off with a laugh.
"okay okay i get it, we have a very tight knit family who clearly have my back." you smiled with a shake of your head. "we do. but they all agreed to come, and that when she's not being an insensitive stupid idiot leah is crazy about you." alessia spoke a little more softly.
"go talk to her." your cousin kissed your cheek, slipping her drink into your hand and taking your empty one, pushing at your back encouragingly as you sighed and let your feet lead you over to her.
"hey, can we talk?" you asked, leah practically dropping the plate of food in her hand with a nod, hurrying after you as you made your way up the back steps and inside, wanting a little more privacy than your backyard full of friends and family provided.
"is this all okay? is it too much? did i do too much? less warned me not to go overboard and i know i said no more flowers but obviously theres flowers here and i got catering from your favorite restaurant and it took me days and days to get everyone to agree to come and then-" tired of her rambling you leaned in, pressing your lips against her own and effectively silencing her.
"i-okay." leah blinked in shock as you pulled away, a small smile of amusement on your face. "first of all, this is very very sweet leah, its perfect." you assured with a firm nod, leah visibly sagging in relief.
"second of all...i want to come home, tonight." you held up a hand as the blonde perked up and opened her mouth, snapping it right closed. "this doesn't fix everything leah, i'm still hurt and its going to take time for me to trust you properly again" you warned as the defender nodded eagerly.
"but we can't work on things unless we're together, and i have missed you." you admitted quietly, the words scary to confess but knowing you needed to be honest. "i've missed you so much, like...so so much." leah breathed out shakily making you smile.
"but promise me one thing?" your hands came to cup her face as she nodded.
"no more apology flowers leah for like...a long time." you grinned as leah let out a laugh of surprise, hands falling to your hips and drawing your body into hers, eyes searching you face as you nodded knowing what they were looking for, her lips sweetly pressing a few times against yours.
"i promise."
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afterthatidontknow · 6 months
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—𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞—
pairing. ex! Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader
summary. in a day you simply wanted peace, two unexpected visitors showed up. for one of them, you were glad.
warnings. smut! I am NOT responsible for your content consumption! — making out, thigh riding, strap on usage, cursing, angst (w happy ending), soft dom Nat.
notes. my first language is portuguese, so I apologize for any grammar errors. feel free to give me advice, though!
divider credits: @cafekitsune ���
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Natasha Romanoff was known as a cold, ruthless woman, who never cared for anyone besides herself. Most of the people didn't know this was due her past — the Red Room was always in complete secrecy, so they feared her. She was already used to it. Whenever she started something with someone, in the next day, she had an empty bed as a gift. To be completely honest, she always felt used. Men and women touched her, to leave her in the morning.
That changed when she met you.
You could say you'd changed her completely, for the best, of course. She became more open with you, learned to express herself better and was not known as the most selfish Avenger in the team anymore.
But just like people say, not everything is a bed of roses.
Instead of using that achievement to improve your relationship, she began to care a little too much about her team of superheroes. At some point, she was no longer paying attention to you.
Reports this, reports that. Missions and more missions. "I have to go somewhere with Cap." "I have to train with Tony to a mission." "I can't, I'll have to go with Clint."
When you confronted her about this, begging for her to understand and willing to help her change, she decided that it was a better option to part ways. You were devasted, and she saw it. That made her heart ache — someone actually lov— liked her enough to want to stay.
This was the one and only reason Natasha didn't forget about you. The only reason she thought about you everyday. The only reason she teared up whenever entering her car and seeing the polaroid with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on her rearview mirror, that she didn't dare to take down.
Today, you were leaving work, heavy tired steps echoing on the pavement's wooden floor as the moonlight illuminated the room. The building was already empty, the streets, darker than your thoughts.
As you started walking to the nearest bus stop, you heard quick footsteps behind you — it was already late and usually there was no people on the streets like this. You turned your head, "you gotta be kidding me".
"Hey, Y/n!" Peter exclaimed, running to catch up with you. "I didn't know you were going to be here at 11:30pm."
You rolled your eyes and took a sharp inhale, but like always, tried to be polite. This so called coworker of yours was always looking at you, following you everywhere, and asking you things, not always work-related. You always made it clear that you weren't interested in men, and he insisted on saying he could 'change your mind'.
"Hey, Peter." you replied, faking a smile and nodding. "You need me to review your documents again?"
"Oh, no. I was just wondering if you wanna go on a date with me. Did you see the restaurant that just opened over there? I could treat you to—"
"No, I don't." you cut him off, more harshly than you intended to. "Look, Peter, I'm sorry. But I don't want anything to do with you, alright? So if you want, go ahead and find somebody else."
You shook your head, not even waiting for his reply and picking up the pace again, quickly rushing to the bus stop. That's when the guy showed you a side that you just suspected, but preferred to believe he didn't have
"C'mon, Y/n." he grabbed your arm, nails digging into your skin. "You won't broke my heart, will you? You're such a gentle, beautiful, kind woman. You will give me a chance."
You cleared your throat, feeling him get closer, and thinking about a certain Red Head — how she would gently, delicately graze your skin with her fingers, so softly whispering into your ear and bringing you to her embrace—
"Back off."
"Oh, no." he laughed. Such a creep. "I won't back off. And if you don't cooperate, I'll make you give me a chance."
Your hands trembled now, silently praying to whoever was seeing this just call the cops or do something. You didn't know the guy anyway. He didn't talk to anyone at work beside you, and you never got to know him, you would never. That's when it would be a good use to have a spy girlfriend. Just the last thing you expected to happen was to hear the sound of a gun cocking behind you, and a very familiar female voice.
"She said back off."
Relief unconsciously washed upon you as your arm was released, only because of the gun, though. You knew that if if wasn't for her, who knows what could've happened there. Peter left, annoyed, but the Russian swore to herself that she'd make his life a living hell.
"... Natasha?" you whisper, turning around with a confused and even scared frown.
"Yes," she worriedly rubbed your arm, shooting you, slowly making the feeling of the disgusting hand fade away. "Are you okay?"
"I am..." you nodded subtly, leaning into her touch. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, I saw a woman being harassed. What was I supposed to do? Mind my business?" she said, obviously avoiding your question.
"You know this is not what I mean." you frowned, carefully letting go of her caress and wrapping your arms around yourself.
Natasha sighed, trying to think of a way to explain herself. 'Oh, I'm here because I miss you so much I can't even sleep anymore.'? No, it wouldn't do.
"I... followed you."
"Oh, great, so I'm being stalked twice today." you hissed, making Natasha look down with your harshness.
"No, Y/n.. I'm here for.. personal reasons. I saw you leaving work, and I noticed that guy following you. I decided to follow too, until he grabbed you and I knew I had to intervine." she explained quietly.
The fact she had said 'personal reasons' deeply hurt you, but you couldn't do anything, you had broken up after all. You nodded, and prepared yourself to walk tp the bus stop again.
"Wait," Natasha quickly stopped you, her eyebrows furrowed. "I won't let you go home like this."
This was something about the old Natasha you knew, the protective one. It was okay, you were tired, and a ride would be no harm. "Where's your getaway car?"
She smiled softly at your joke, and tilted her head. "Around the corner."
You two walked silently towards the vehicle, as she unlocked the doors with the keys and you entered the passenger seat. You threw your bag on the backseat before you could focus on the environment around you, and see the polaroid of you and Nat with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on the rearview mirror.
Natasha noticed your gaze as soon as she entered the driver seat, clearing her throat and starting the car's engine. "Couldn't bring myself to take those down."
You stayed silent, but your eyes could tell everything. I'm glad. Oh, I'm so glad.
Natasha remembered your address as if you hadn't broken up nine months ago, and when you reached your place, you too much disappointed for your own good.
"Thank you for the lift," you whispered, turning your body to be able to grab your bag from the backseat — in the exact same moment Natasha turned to unbuckle her seatbelt — your fronts touching, which made you two a little startled.
The problem was that you didn't pull away, neither of you. You slowly turned your head to meet Natasha's gaze, your face so close to hers you could feel her breath. Familiar. It was pure instinct, almost muscle memory, of the times she always kissed you goodbye when dropping you somewhere.
You didn't even notice your hand going up to hold the back of her neck, much less when she placed her hand on your thigh, and leaned in so your noses brushed. Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment, almost savouring your closeness, your aura enveloping her once more. Then your lips barely, barely grazed, breath hitching, as she couldn't take it anymore.
The redhead pressed her lips against yours, giving them a long peck. It was surprising how much time you lasted without air. You didn't break the kiss, just darted the tip of your tongue out to lick her bottom lip, begging for entrance. She gave in, trying to pull you closer but being stopped by the goddamn control panel. As soon as you felt her tongue touching yours you realized that this was going too far. You pulled back harshly, leaving you two panting for air and a disappointed Nat.
"Do you..." you shakily breathed. "... wanna come in?"
"Mhm." Natasha hummed, turning off the engine. "Can I?"
You didn't answer, just opened the door and slipped out the car. As you entered, you could practically feel Natasha's eyes burning the place. How you didn't take down any picture of yours. How her stuff was spreading across the pavement. It gave her a sense of... hope? Of course, since she was in the same situation.
"So.. are you seeing anyone?" you asked her while kicking off your heels and leaving them by the door.
"I think you know the answer for that." the redhead practically hissed, making your head snap towards her.
"But I want you to say it." you retreated. "I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me you didn't forget me. I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me the reason of why you came to my town again and followed me when I left work. I want you to tell me the reason of why you kissed me just like we always did before."
"I didn't! I didn't forget you, Y/n!" Natasha snapped, looking away and tucking the loosen strands of hair of her braids behind her ears. "I didn't forget you and I never did. Alright? Happy now?"
"Is that so?" you laughed humorlessly, crossing your arms. "I thought you cared more about your superheroes buddies. Where are they now!?"
"I left them." Natasha replied, looking at you again with a mixture of anger and pain. "I left them and came back, to you, Y/n."
You froze at her words, swallowing your saliva. "... okay?"
"I came back here, because I wanted to at least a chance to explain myself. I wouldn't be able to live knowing that I hurt you, and that you think that I did it on purpose. So please, just give me a chance."
"...go on."
Natasha sighed in relief, exhaling the air she was holding. "I'm sure you know my story. You were the first one to know everything about it, about me. And I'm also sure you know you're the first one to ever love me. No one else ever loved me like you did."
You leaned against the kitchen counter, listening carefully to her words, ready to give her time and patience, like you usually did.
"... I didn't know what I was doing, Y/n. Every other relationship I had, ended in less than a week. Love is a weapon and it's letal for me, for people like me. I was, I am startled by all of this, by this fuzzy warm feeling that you always gave me, that you still do, in my thoughts.. the Avengers were my first family, and when I panicked, I tried to hang on to them. In order not to hurt you, and myself." she didn't even realize the tear rolling down her cheek, and shook her head. "That's it. I'm sorry for everything, but Y/n, you will always have a piece— you'll always have my whole heart in your hands. I'll get off your hair n—"
You couldn't. Not anymore. You rushed towards her and grabbed her face, cutting her off with a deep kiss. She was taking aback, but her hands traveled to your waist, pulling you flush against her, your fronts pressing. Nothing changed. Natasha pushed you backwards against your room's door, her tongue entering your mouth and dancing with yours. You could feel yourself getting lost in her, damn it, once more. It was like she had this spell on you — you were trapped, and didn't complain.
"Y/n," the russian uttered, hands slipping inside your shirt and giving your waist a squeeze. "I've got to have you again, at least for one last time. Please, just this once—"
Tired of her rambling, you smirked and grabbed her by the jacket, pulling her into a kiss again and dragging her into the room, slamming the door shut. Natasha took this as a 'yes', and her hands, under you shirt, went to unclasp your bra, making it fall to the ground and a groan of relief escape your throat. Before she could remove the rest of the fabric of your body, you stopped her, pushing her down to the bed.
"I always wanted to do that," you started to slowly, so slow that it almost tortured her take off your clothes, stripteasing for her.
"Shit, Y/n." she quickly started to get rid off her jacket, snd everything else she was wearing. You were careful not to trip on the pile of clothes on the floor, and walked over to her again, straddling her leg on the edge of the bed.
Natasha's hand grabbed your hips roughly, keeping you in place and it didn't take two seconds before you started to grind on her. "Nat," you breathed, arms going to circle her neck.
"Who else touched you like this while I was away?" she growled in your ear, pressing your body against hers. "Answer me,"
"No one," you whined, giving her a subtle shake of your head. "No one, Natty. J-just myself,"
"My poor girl," Nat began to roam her hands up your sides, her lips pressing kisses on your jawline, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help,"
"You're here now..!" you gasped, your movements faster, as she began to move her thigh to stimulate you more.
"And I don't plan on going away," Natasha murmured, tilting your head to look at her in the eyes. Even in your high, you could make sense of her words, and the weight they beared.
"Nat!" you moaned, closing your eyes shut. "I need... please.. I—I need you, inside me."
Natasha almost lost her mind with that, grabbing your hips and pinning you down to the bed. She reached her arm out for the drawer that she hoped your strap still was, and luckily, she was right. "I'm gonna fuck you like never before, Y/n." she attached the silicone cock to her hips with urgency, holding your hips in place as she ran the tip of it across your folds, making you whine in need.
"Don't tease me," you gently gripped her arms on your hips and looked at her with dreamy eyes. She couldn't resist — but your walls were so tight she had to put a little effort to enter you.
"Holy fuck, baby." she moved her hand to brush your hair behind your ear, giving you a little time to get used to the length. "So fucking tight for me,"
"I—" you breathed, interrupted when Nat started to slowly move in and out you, her red hair falling into your face. You moaned, putting her hair up in a makeshift ponytail and with your free hand, holding her neck. "God, I missed you,"
Natasha pounded faster in you with those words, your moans only getting louder by the second. She grabbed one of your legs and placed it over her shoulder, allowing her to hit your g-spot repeatedly. You thumb went to your mouth, wetting it and starting to rub her clit — she couldn't say she expected that, her soft moans saying everything.
"Cum with me," you breathlessly requested, eyes fluttering close. Natasha didn't have to be asked twice. Her hips slammed into yours, the wet sounds of her thrusting echoing the room. "Natty!"
You back arched, head thrown backwards as your orgasm hit you. Natasha's legs shook, her weight falling onto you and your arms immediately wrapping around her, keeping her close.
"Don't make me go away,"
"I could never."
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nariism · 3 months
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wherever you are, wherever you may be — i. rin
soulmates (name au) + "i'm done waiting."
synopsis. itoshi rin meets you under a sky full of fireworks. he spends the next 6 years of his life trying to convince himself that he doesn't love you. you spend the next 6 years giving him every reason why he should.
wc. 12.4k (i need to close my eyes and sleep for a while)
notes. huge thank you to ellie (@hyomagiri) and mari (@saetoshi) for helping me with this 🥹 this fic actually put me through it and i'm so grateful to both of them for their support 💗
— for my beloved @ode2rin 💐 | event masterlist ✉️
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2024
Every year on the seventh day of the seventh month, Itoshi Rin finds himself standing at the daunting entrance to his local shrine.
The tradition is completely beneath him—something childish that he grumbles about under his breath despite letting you drag him all the way out here with soft eyes watching your smile.
Tanabata is the festival of stars. Of love.
It is a story his mother used to whisper to him as they watched the night sky in awe, pretending that the galaxy was collapsing in on itself to allow for a romantic midnight rendezvous between two lovers.
It’s something far too sappy for his liking.
But the food is okay, he supposes, and it’s a good opportunity to get out of the house and spend time with you which he seldom has time to do now that he’s back in his training season.
There were too many things about it that he loathed: the screaming children that would bump into his legs; the way his ears would stay ringing for days after the festival ended; how you could always convince him to come as if you were some sort of hypnotic devil in disguise, and how thoroughly wounded his pride would be at that fact.
However, his least favourite part of the festival by far is writing down his wish for the year on a scrap piece of paper and hanging it around a bamboo tree. One, because he can never for the life of him think of anything meaningful to wish for. And two, because he isn’t sure he even believes in that sort of thing.
Rin is struggling again this year, pencil lightly scratching his temple as he thinks.
He’s painfully aware that he’s never put so much thought into this before, but you seemed so excited to come all the way here before heading to the festivities that he couldn’t possibly let you down.
His wish dawns on him then, something he wants to do before the next time he makes the climb all the way back up here 365 days from now.
“Hey,” your voice calls out quietly. “What did you wish for?”
“What did you wish for?” Rin quickly refutes.
You cast your narrowed eyes from the side, tilting your little slip of yellow paper away from him.
“Only if I get to see yours first.”
Normally, he would give in to you right away. His resolve when it comes to you is embarrassingly weak. But there’s no way for him to explain himself. No way he could show you the words he’s written lest he hurt his ego.
He stubbornly folds up the piece of paper and shoves your face away. All you do is laugh and he feels terribly warm.
“No peeking,” he tells you when you kiss across his fingertips.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2018
A name appeared for Itoshi Rin when he turned thirteen years old.
He remembers the day well—it was hard to forget, anyway. As much as he wanted to focus on the burning of the name etching its way down his skin, he couldn’t. Not when he was blinking snow out of his lashes and watching his brother’s retreating back.
Rin likes to think that the universe fucks with him in any way that it can.
Maybe he had done something terrible in his past life and this was its karmic retribution, or maybe he was just unlucky.
What he does know is this: the name on his pinky only reminds him of all the things he ever lost.
Every syllable struck needles into his heart—a painful memory of crawling after the tracks of the wheels Sae left behind with his luggage until gravel and ice were stuck under his nails. Or worse, the clawing of his throat as they sat across from each other at dinner—the way he didn't even smile when Rin announced to his parents that his soulmate mark had appeared while his mother cried out in joy.
In fact, Sae didn’t talk to him for the rest of his visit. He remembers that hurt the most.
The name had haunted him for all the remaining years of his life—a forced memory that he wished he could forget. There came with it a feeling of loneliness that crushed him despite the proof on his pinky that there was another soul wandering the earth that would fix him.
He refused to believe it.
Only revenge would fix him. Only proving himself better would heal the cracks in his heart. Only beating Sae. Sae, Sae, Sae. His brother’s name had been repeated so many times that it was easy to ignore the other burning his skin.
In all those years he found it easy to cast aside his soulmate. To ignore it even if it hurt.
So he wonders why it’s so bad tonight.
He’s done everything he could think of: slathering cooling ointment down his finger to stop the searing, wrapping it in a cast to prevent himself from admiring it for too long, even tying a wish to a piece of bamboo hoping it would disappear.
A finger snaps in front of his face, drawing his attention to his teammates in front of him. Both look equally amused.
“You’re dreaming,” Isagi muses. “You’ve been spacing out all night. Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” Rin mutters, swatting his teammate’s hand away from him. He had been staring again, longingly eyeing the way the letters danced down his skin. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
“None of your business.”
“Yeesh, it’s not good to keep things bottled up, you know?”
“You’re annoying,” Rin glowers before it melts back into indifference. “I’m fine,” he reiterates.
Isagi seems unconvinced, as he usually is when Rin is being mysteriously vague about what’s on his mind. He and Bachira share a tentative glance before sighing and shaking their heads.
“Well… okay,” he finally yields. “We’re going to get some snacks before the fireworks start. If you’re going to sulk then at least stay put and do it here so we can find you again.”
“Yeah,” Rin grumbles, already making an escape plan. “Whatever. Will do.”
As soon as the boys are out of sight, he turns heel and hurries away. The crowd is driving him crazy and he needs somewhere quiet so he can stare at his hands until his eyes are dry.
He comes to a pond situated just outside of the festival grounds, deep water glimmering under the moon and the passing lanterns.
Plopping down on the bench, he hunches over onto his knees with his elbows and takes a deep breath. It instead comes shallow, as if someone has just punched him in the gut. 
It’s then that he realizes he’s not alone.
Your yukata is muddy, fabric soaked and dripping at the sleeves though you don’t seem to care or even notice. You look frustrated for some reason, lip curled into a concentrated frown while you plunge your hands into the mud around the edge of the water.
Away from the crowds of people, he can hear the summer song of cicadas chirping all around. Your hands dip in and out of the water, quiet splashes filling the rest of the silence on top of the distant buzz of children laughing.
It’s just you and him. Something primal inside of him rages, pounding against his chest until it feels like he’s suffocating.
Run. Run. Run.
His legs jerk, urging him to stand up and leave, but he feels glued down to the bench—tethered where he sits and forced to watch you repeatedly sink your hands into the muddy waters.
No more than five minutes must pass as you both ignore each other, yet it feels like an eternity stretches by. 
Finally, you pipe up.
“You’re scaring them,” you tell him plainly.
His head whips in your direction at your voice, soft and careful. His teal eyes narrow at you. “Huh?”
Your frown deepens, turning to look at him with your hands still submerged. “The frogs.”
“Come again?”
“Your vibes. It’s scaring the frogs away.”
His eye twitches.
“Ever consider that you’re just dogshit at catching them?”
“Excuse me?”
“And look at you, making a total mess of yourself. Don’t you care that you have to go home looking like that?” He presses, leering at you like an insect he’s about to crush under his heel. You simply stare at him, expression blank.
Huffing, you tear away from him and sink your hands beneath the mud. “No. I don’t.”
He watches in silence as you sift around for a moment before pulling your hands up, a smile slowly morphing into your face.
“I got one…” You breathe, looking more elated than he thinks you should. “I really caught one.”
“First time?” He quips sarcastically. A part of him wonders why he hasn’t gotten up and left you altogether yet.
“Cut me some slack,” you complain, eyeing him from the side again. You gently run a finger along the back of the frog, trying not to scare it away. “I haven’t done this in forever.”
“Clearly.”
You snort. “Yeah. Clearly.”
Rin looks at you quizzically, puzzled at your sudden change in demeanor. You seem… softer. Less agitated, at the very least. You’re gazing at the frog adoringly, as if it had somehow solved all of your problems and was dragging you into another world.
Any retort he had ready to shoot at you dies in his mouth. The anger rising in his chest extinguishes in the blink of an eye, and a deep hush settles over you as he watches in curiosity.
For a moment, the universe goes quiet. He’s gotten so used to having everything on his mind all at once that the silence is almost unnerving.
He once believed that his world would end with an injury that never healed quite right, or when he was too old for any team to want him.
He once believed that his world would end when he could no longer imagine the feel of a ball between his palms.
He once believed that his world would end the day he couldn’t play football anymore—that the only thing that would ever kill him was if the chance of standing alongside his brother died with him.
But he was wrong.
Itoshi Rin’s world ends with the bellow of a firework.
In a few years, he would think of this stretch of a few seconds fondly. He would squeeze you a little tighter with his chin resting on your shoulder, staring up at a colourful sky. He would think it was poetic, in a way, that you were the one who painted his world in the same hues of shimmering gold.
Rin remembers, though, that only one thought had crossed his mind.
I’m so screwed.
He can see every fine detail of your face, illuminated in all the colours of the rainbow. And he can’t help but think you are the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. He can trace each intricate curve of your nose to your chin to the surprised parting of your lips; the way your lashes flutter as you blink rapidly, tensed from the sudden explosion.
The light fades faster than it appeared, yet it feels like a millennium has passed. The reverbing echo of the firework crackles across the sky, thundering in his ears so loud that he can feel it pounding in his chest.
(Or is that his heart? He can’t tell. He feels dizzy.)
Darkness envelops your bodies again, save for the dim glow of distant lanterns. Every part of you is seared into his memory, a floating image when he blinks.
The frog leaps from your hands back into the water, leaving nothing but ripples behind.
You stay there with your hands outstretched, looking lonely under the dark sky. Another one goes off above your heads, signalling the start of the display.
“There you are, Rin!” Bachira and Isagi come rushing over from the path, excited smiles and mirth bubbling in their laughs as they approach. “We thought you went home without us already!”
Rin slowly blinks out of his reverie. For a second, he glances in your direction again just to catch your eyes. 
“I almost did,” he grumbles, forcing himself not to stare.
“Fireworks are starting!” Isagi yanks Rin to his feet and begins dragging him away before he can even protest.
Without turning around, he can feel the weight of your eyes in the back of his head. There’s an unfamiliar ache in his chest, and the name etched down his pinky burns infinitely hot.
Later at home, he stares at the spot where Sae used to sit back when he still came to Japan for anything other than to take a new passport photo.
“My soulmate’s name showed up,” he had mumbled that night to break the tense silence. It was strange that he still felt like he owed his brother that much—to make his visit as normal as possible despite having his heart carved open.
Sae only looked at him blankly, spoon halting just above his bowl. He was eerily still, quietly deciding how to react. Then,
“Good for you,” he said. And nothing more.
Rin squeezes his eyes shut and he feels warmth rolling down his cheeks. He quickly wipes the tears away, pretending as if they never existed.
He spends the rest of the night trying to forget your face.
(And the next year trying to recreate it in his dreams.)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2019
Rin makes it another 275 days before he finally remembers every piece of the puzzle that is your existence.
He saw you in his sleep. The back of your head, anyway.
You were sitting in his favourite café, at the table he claimed for himself right by the window. You ordered a coffee but let it sit for so long that the ice melted. Then, you wiped up the condensation rolling down the frosty glass with your finger.
Rin watched you from afar, observing you the way he wished he did last summer.
Maybe then he could have dived deep into the recesses of his brain to remember why exactly you struck him so. But there he was, stuck watching the back of your head as you gazed out the window.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Your fingers drummed mindlessly against the wooden table, reciting a rhythm just slightly louder than the pounding of his own heart. 
“Can you leave me alone?” He finally called out, hoping it would stop your incessant beating.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“You’re annoying me,” he hissed. Annoying for disturbing his peace and quiet. Annoying for plaguing his dreams even after all these days.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Seriously,” he grunted, standing up from his seat so fast that the chair scraped horribly against the wooden floor. Still, you didn’t pay him any mind, instead more interested in the faceless people walking by. “Knock it off!”
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
He bit the inside of his cheek in hesitation, the itch in the back of his mind ever present. “What’s your name?”
Silence.
You finally turned his way. Slowly. Agonizingly slow.  And Rin was right—you were still so beautiful, 275 days later.
Grinning at him big and bright, you almost seemed to collapse in on yourself with joy. Like a star about to implode, or maybe more akin to a firework.
Either way, his breath was stolen from him.
You silently mouthed your name, making sure he saw every vowel and accentuated syllable. Warmth flooded him in every way—probably brought on by the racing of his heart.
It was impossible that his soulmate was someone like this. Someone whose smile looked like it could heal even the deepest wounds.
You grabbed his attention again with a big wave of the arms, and he watched in anticipation.
“You’re—”
Rin followed your mouth as you sounded out the words without a voice.
“—smiling!”
He reached up to run his fingers along his bottom lip. And you were right, he realized, as he traced it midway up his cheek.
(When did he start smiling?)
(Why?)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Rin thinks about you just as much in the waking world as he does in his dreams.
It’s spring, though snow is still settled over the eaves of homes that he passes on the way to the grocery store. Apparently the winter cold is supposed to be especially long and bitter this year, permeating until mid-May.
He stares at his feet as they mark the virgin snow, decorating his sneakers white and making his feet cold.
Did you walk through the same snow this morning?
Then, when he’s going through the motion of smelling the bottom of pineapples at the store:
Do you like pineapple? What if you’re allergic?
(He shakes his head and puts them away. He suddenly isn’t craving it.)
His obsession with you has only intensified as the year has gone on. If you ever peered into his mind, he would receive a well-deserved slap across the face.
The soulmate mark engraved down his pinky has never bothered him so badly.
It’s like you’re constantly with him—a ghost haunting him, or perhaps more like a curse. Thinking about you takes up unnecessary space in his head. Space that should be dedicated to football, and football only.
He's about to go home so he can make a list outlining the ways he can forget about you.
(Ironic, he knows, but in all honesty he already exhausted all of his options from his first list.)
But then he comes to a stop outside of his favourite café. It looks the same, even has the same advertisements plastered in the window as the last time he was here.
He hesitates at the door, but when he walks in it smells the same. It's decorated the same. Not a single table is out of place.
He walks up to his regular spot, runs his fingers along the wood where he remembers you tapping in his dream.
There's no sign of your existence here.
Rin shakes his head in annoyance, cursing himself out in his head because he was stupid enough to think he would run into you here.
Then disappointment floods his body, like a dam had been released in his chest and it's flowing unstoppably to every piece of him.
(Wait, why is he disappointed? He really needs to take a nap.)
He runs his hand through his hair as a nervous reflex, simultaneously relieved and irritated that you're nowhere to be seen.
It takes him a minute to recollect himself, to realize that he probably looks like a crazy person just standing beside an empty table like a lost child who doesn't know where to go, and decides to just go home.
He pulls into the line to get a drink for his walk home when—
"Thanks!"
His heart drops.
You waltz out of the back, tying your apron around your waist as you exchange spots in the break room with one of your coworkers.
Rin is about to die, seriously. You must be new here, since he's been to this café more times than he can count and he's never seen you before. Or was it that he was specifically looking out for you this time?
Whatever the reason, he's dumbfounded.
“Hey,” your acknowledgment makes him freeze in his spot. “Frog guy?”
He looks at you stupidly, rubbing his eyes like a cartoon character as if he’s imagining you standing right in front of him.
His gaze drifts down to your name tag, fresh and newly printed with white marker. Signed at the end is a little flower, petals swirled into tiny hearts.
Your existence before him is undeniable.
"Um. Yeah," he sputters in disbelief.
"I..." You clear your throat, looking as bewildered as he feels. "I didn't think I'd see you again."
'You're my soulmate. Of course we'd run into each other,' he thinks to himself. Out loud, though:
"Yeah. Me neither."
The person behind him in line coughs quietly, impatiently tapping their foot. Rin takes the hint and quietly tells you what he wants. You lean in across the counter to hear him better, and his face grows warm.
Once you fill in the boxes on the cup, you place it down and move it to the side for someone to fill. It catches his eye immediately.
Itoshi Rin is scribbled neatly down the side of his cup.
“How did you...?”
You awkwardly shift in your spot, evidently embarrassed as you fiddle with the strings of your apron. Then, with your own hands.
“W-Well…”
His eyes dare to drop down to where your thumb is nervously slathering up and down the name on your pinky.
“Oh.”
"Sorry, I just figured—"
"It's fine," he interrupts. Your mouth snaps shut.
Tense silence stretches thin in the air, ready to shatter at any moment. But for some reason, he feels as though he's choking on nothing.
You fumble over the emptiness, quickly snatching up the cup to make his drink yourself after deciding it's too awkward to just stand there.
He watches you in a daze, half shaken and half in awe. Never in a million years would he have thought a dream would lead him back to you.
When you turn back around with a full cup, you look equally stunned. 
“Itoshi—”
“Rin. It’s just Rin.”
You look at him in surprise, lashes fluttering rapidly as you let it sink in.
It's not your fault. You don't know that it's a sore spot that he just so happens to share the same last name with the person he despises most in the world.
It's not your fault that he has a quick temper and his voice raises slightly, enough to make you flinch back just a tiny bit.
And it's definitely not your fault that it stings so much—that he had expected you to speak to him as if you'd already known him for a lifetime and not as if you were just two strangers looking at each other from across a bar counter.
“O-Okay," you take a deep breath, cheeks puffed out and expression unreadable.
You slide the cup across the counter and he catches it in his hand.
He debates whether or not he should say more, like apologize for snapping at you. But then someone calls you by your name, and the way it rolls so beautifully off their tongue catches him off guard.
"Sorry. See you, Rin," you smile sweetly. Maybe a little awkwardly, a small step toward the one he dreamed about. And his heart is set in motion.
Rin decides that today won't be the day.
Another day, he'll be brave enough to crack a joke so dry that you try and scrub his name off your skin. And another day, he will ask for your number because, yeah, you might be the most alluring person he's ever met.
As he turns to take his leave after just staring at the spot you were standing in for a solid few seconds, he can hear some of the other baristas clamouring for you.
He doesn't want to look. Really, honestly, he doesn't. 
But he does anyway.
It's just a quick glance over his shoulder—nothing more than a fleeting moment as he takes the chance to look at you one more time.
Those two seconds is all it takes for him to realize just how much trouble he's in.
You're laughing big and toothy, waving your hand in front of your face dismissively as your coworkers poke fun at how flustered you are. Then your hands are clasped over your stomach and you've doubled down a little in your awkward fit.
His heart has never beat so loud in his own ears.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Itoshi Rin used to smile just for the sake of smiling, once upon a time.
He had aunties who would pinch him by the cheek and fawn over him, cooing about how he looked just like his mother. How his face would cherub and the apples of his cheeks were bright red. Even when he grew out of his baby face, people would tell him how wonderful his smile was.
Sae rarely ever smiled, so it was something exclusive. He never felt like he was standing in his shadow. It was special—the kind of praise only one Itoshi would know.
Rin has forgotten how to smile like that.
He smiles to be polite to his family, if ever. Even then, it's not like he owes them that much. At some point, it became too much effort. And he had no reason to do it.
It was always a tiny thought bothering him in the back of his mind:
I'll never meet my soulmate if I'm always scowling like this.
He thought that was what he wanted, anyway. He wouldn't need to worry about running into his soulmate if no one ever looked his way. If everyone feared him enough not to spare him a second glance.
He doubts everything he ever thought as he sits on the edge of his bed staring at his desk.
It's lit up by a single lamp, shining down on his empty coffee cup like a spotlight opened up by the heavens themselves.
Your phone number is written just below his name.
Rin had almost tossed it into the trash without a second thought earlier in the day. He would have, if it weren't for the loose dog that blitzed by him and made him drop it.
Fate just loves to mess with him.
He picked it up and his thumb had stopped over the number. It was written so small, as if you had wanted him to miss it. Or perhaps you wanted to test destiny yourself—to see if the planets would align and he would discover your seven digits there for him to find.
And now he's home. He's been home, just looking. Contemplating. Stressing.
He migrates from the edge of the bed and settles into his desk chair. Then he gets up, moves back to the bed, and flops down. An endless cycle, back and forth, pushing and pulling.
Rin plops down onto his desk seat and sighs in frustration, ruffling his hair around before his forehead slams into the table.
Every part of his mind screams at him to stop. To toss the cup away and forget today ever happened. His head raises from his arms and he stares at the set of numbers illuminated on the paper, taunting him. 
Finally, he exhales through his nose, sitting up straight and reaching for the cup to toss. His fingers delicately brush along your phone number.
“So dumb…” He huffs, eventually finding his phone instead and opening his contacts.
It’s nearly midnight. He tries to imagine your face as you wait by your phone for a message from him, that stupidly hopeful glimmer in your eyes, and he feels sick to his stomach as he sends it.
Rin: hey. it’s rin.
He throws his phone down on the desk again, screen down so he can’t cringe at himself. A few minutes pass in complete silence as he sulks.
He considers that you may have gone to bed already, or you were offended by the fact that he ignored your offer to connect all day and instantly blocked him. Maybe you thought he never saw your number at all.
Then his phone buzzes. His body moves on autopilot, snatching it up faster than he can realize what he’s doing. He’s halfway through the embarrassing thought that he just immediately read your message after you sent it as your text sinks in.
Unknown: hi! it’s great to hear from you ヾ(〃^∇^)ノ
Unknown: i was starting to think you were never gonna text lol
Rin: i wasn’t
He chews his lip for a moment before quickly following up:
Rin: but i changed my mind. just cause.
Unknown: hahaha got it got it. ‘just cause’ (˘◡˘)
Unknown: rin
Unknown: wait nvm
Unknown: whatever
Unknown: rin
Rin: what
Unknown: let’s get coffee ^ ^
He stares at the screen in disbelief, watching the typing bubble pop up and disappear again and again. He can imagine again what kind of smile you must have on your face right now, or maybe you look flustered, or maybe this all means nothing to you at all and this is your way of being polite.
Regardless of the reason, he eventually types out his response.
Rin: ok
Christ, he’s so tepid.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2020
He comes to memorize every part of you, like how the sun kisses the horizon and the moon knows the tides.
Intimately, almost—if he didn’t overthink the way your touch lingered on him he could easily ignore the way it made his heart pound in his ears.
Rin learns the feeling of your fingers against his skin as you compress an ice pack to his knee. He knows your laugh—can pick apart sarcasm from genuine cheer unlike most other people he encounters. He’s never been good at reading people yet for some reason you’ve become an open book for him. 
It’s not fair that you’ve ensnared him this way, that he can’t seem to run from you (because his favourite coffee is from your café and he can’t be bothered to find a new place). That he finds himself instinctively reaching over to his phone when he can’t sleep (he has to make sure his alarms are on, might as well text you goodnight while he’s at it). And you’ve become annoyingly comfortable (he doesn’t have an excuse for this one—your lap is just conveniently a very nice place to rest his head).
He must be an open book, too.
At some point he probably stopped trying to hide his growing feelings for you, though you either didn’t notice his sudden shift or you didn’t care.
Vulnerability has never been a part of Rin, even before Itoshi Sae ruined his life.
He despises how you so easily pry him apart, skinning him alive with your hand lathering down his chest as you laugh. 
Still, he’s grown accustomed to your fingers stringing through his hair, to the way your head tilts when he explains football plays to you, to the obvious way you fluster when he attempts (poorly) at flirting with you.
He’s gotten especially fond of the way you meet him at the end of his practices with such sweet, wandering hands—pushing the hair stuck to his forehead from sweat away from his eyes; using a towel to wipe up his neck; the squeeze you give his palms as you examine them to see if there are any new cuts and bruises.
Usually, he’s the epitome of confidence in his plays. Today, however, his cheeks burn as you approach him with the same honeyed smile.
“My shots were shoddy,” he admits before you can even get a word out. You only raise a brow, hands faltering in front of you. “That was lame.”
“I think you’re good.”
“Good,” he frowns. “But not great?”
“The greatest,” you quickly correct yourself, smiling at his cravings for praise. You’re armed with a fresh towel like you always are, reaching up to clean his face as if it’s the only thing you were born to do.
He relishes in your gentle touch, peering at you through his lashes while you prattle on about how amazing he was even though he missed half of his shots.
You were so blindly supportive, it sickens him. 
Not because he felt you were being disingenuous, but because he’s not deserving of your praise. 
For the first time in a long time, it feels as though his soul is disconnected from his body. He used to walk the earth this way—uninterested in his surroundings and obsessed with only one thing.
Itoshi Sae. Itoshi Sae. Itoshi Sae.
Suddenly, he’s thirteen again and gasping for air; screaming into his pillow and trashing their shared awards until his mother comes rushing in to stop him. He’s alone in a field, abandoned and crushed.
It’s not like he’d never lost before, even in front of you. Loss was just a part of football as much as he hated it.
But your praise only makes his stomach turn, because he knows you mean it.
You truly do believe he’s the best, when really he’s been futile in his attempts to catch up with the big brother he admired so much as a kid.
“Stop,” he gently interrupts.
Rin tries to use his hair to hide the wetness of his eyes, with little success. You can see right through him, unfortunately. It’s a talent he wishes you didn’t have.
“Rin?” You say softly, reaching up to brush the hair out of the way. He doesn’t try and back up or swat your hand away, instead letting you see his miserable expression. You sigh quietly, looking more exasperated than surprised.
“Sorry,” he mutters halfheartedly.
You shake your head. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
Shame boils in his stomach at your reassurance. There is something to apologize for. Here you are, supporting him with all your heart, and all he can think about is his stupid brother. How he’ll never catch up. How he’ll never be good enough.
Doesn’t your kindness warrant his attention at the very least?
“Come on,” you tug at his hand. “Let’s get you a pick-me-up.”
Rin abides silently, body following yours off the field and onto the streets though his mind has floated off elsewhere.
He tries to count how many steps you take in between the field and the destination, but loses count somewhere around three hundred. Then he moves on to counting the hairs on the back of your head. He loses count at one hundred. Eventually, he gives up and opts for staring at your conjoined hands while he lags behind.
When you come to a halt, he nearly bumps into your back.
The ringing in his ears stops as he blinks at his surroundings. Waves crash against the shore of the sandbank, singing the song of the ocean. It had been so long since Rin walked down this stretch of the shore, he almost forgot what the sea looked like.
“Wait here,” you urge as you hold him by the shoulders then disappear around the corner.
He collapses at the wall separating land from sea, swinging his legs under the railings to sit comfortably as he remembers doing when he was a kid. His gym bag is abandoned behind him, cleats and all.
When you return, you shove a popsicle into his hand.
He’s confused at first, just looking absently at the packaging. It must be for a concerning amount of time, because you eventually pipe up.
“Do you need me to open it for you?”
Rin glares at you and your teasing smile. Carefully, he unpackages the treat and pops it in his mouth.
Sweetness melts over his tongue and he exhales sharply through his nose. You watch him in amusement with your own treat stuck in your mouth.
Silence engulfs you, eating Rin from the inside out until he feels ill. He holds his half-eaten popsicle in front of him, watching it melt down his hand.
You stare at him for a second before nudging him lightly with your elbow.
“I was being serious. You were really good. I can’t even imagine playing like you do.”
Rin’s stomach turns. The last thing he wants is your pity.
“You don’t have to be so nice,” he mumbles, resting his chin on the railing. “42 percent.”
“42 percent?” You echo, peering over the railing to get a better look at his face.
“The percent of shots I made today.”
“Come on,” you urge gently. “Aren’t you being too hard on yourself?”
“If I’m not hard on myself, I’ll never—” he stops, choking lightly on his spit. When you don’t interrupt, he shoves the popsicle back in his mouth. “Whatever. You wouldn't get it.”
It’s quiet again, save for the crashing of waves upon rock. Rin thinks for a moment that maybe he had gone too far, or that his little meltdown had freaked you out.
But when he finally dares to look at you again, you’re smiling.
“Maybe not,” you admit with a whisper. “But I do know this…” You reach over and cup his cheek with your free hand, thumb sweeping the expanse of his cheek soothingly. “There is no one—and I mean no one—who works harder than you do.”
He swallows thickly, subconsciously nudging his face a little further into your palm.
“You deserve to be a little kinder to yourself.”
The way his heart catches in his throat is strange. He can’t describe it. The warmth in his belly is foreign, but it’s pleasant.
For the first time in the year he’s gotten to know you, the thought crosses his mind:
I think I’m in love with you.
Rin’s mouth opens with the idea, but he forces it shut just as fast.
Fear grips his lungs and squeezes, stealing his air and forcing him to pull away from your touch.
“Okay,” he breathes in resignation.
You seem stunned by his sudden retreat, smile faltering ever so slightly. But you recover quickly, hugging yourself as you slouch over the railing.
Conversation moves on just like that. He appreciated that about you, too. He never had to dwell.
It feels nice, everything about this; to have his legs dangling over the edge of the cement, feet barely ghosting over the surface of the water; to have a popsicle melting between his teeth while he listens to you talk.
For some reason, it feels as though he’s reclaiming lost time, reliving a moment he thought he would never have again.
When he checks his popsicle stick, it tells him he’s a winner for the first time since he was thirteen.
(He finally allows himself to believe it when your knee gently knocks into his.)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2021
“Frog cotton candy?”
“Frog shaped cotton candy,” Rin corrects, peering around the giant fluff of candy to look at you quizzically.
“Yeah,” you giggle. “But why?”
He grumbles quietly, cheeks a soft shade of pink as he shoves the treat into your hands.
“I thought you’d like it. Nevermind,” he deadpans, turning around to toss it into the garbage.
Your laugh crescendos and he feels his heart squeeze with affection. When your hand stops him by the forearm, he thinks he might explode.
“It’s cute.”
You pick apart the floss ruthlessly with your fingers, and he watches almost in a trance—hypnotized by just your existence.
(When you finally pop the sugar into your mouth, he imagines it melting on his own tongue. The thought makes him unbearably warm and he forces it away.)
His fascination with you doesn't end there.
There's a certain charm to you that he can't understand—something that draws him in, tantalizing but terrifying at the same time.
He can't help the way he watches in a daze, the way you've ensnared all his attention and taken up the space in his mind. 
Rin has never been good at being kind, but here he is.
Here he is, bringing you cotton candy because he thought it was stupid but cute.
Here he is, rolling up the sleeves of your yukata with a gentle scolding when you rush over to catch goldfish.
And here he is, letting you cling to his arm as if he's the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth.
He really, really hates it—how mushy you make his brain feel.
He's halfway through re-rolling your sleeves with a half-hearted scowl on his face when you stop him, hand pressed to his forearm.
“Listen, Rin.”
“Hm?” He leans down so that he can peer at your face hidden behind your almost nonexistent candy floss.
“I have to show you something.”
Rin stops dead in his tracks, raising a brow as he fully turns toward you. “What is it?”
“Can you close your eyes for me?”
His heart does a somersault in his chest. “You’re not doing anything weird, are you?”
“Who do you think I am?” You sputter.
He lets out a long sigh before complying, squeezing his eyes shut. After a long silence, he considers peeking a little bit.
That is, until he feels your breath gently fanning over his parted lips.
Nearly leaping back, he wills himself to stay grounded and slowly slides his hands up your arms until he gets to your shoulders. As he imagined, your body is impossibly close to his.
It takes every bit of concentration he has not to waver. If he really tries, he can focus on how your breath smells sweet of candy. How your hair blows softly with the summer breeze, tickling his cheeks. How you smell. How you breathe.
(Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His heart is about to beat out of his chest. Is that okay?)
You tense up in his hold and suddenly you’re retreating from him, swiftly pulling out of his arms. Just as he’s about to ask you what happened, there’s a piece of candy shoved into his mouth.
“You wanted to try it, didn’t you?” You ask rather breathlessly. He opens his eyes, looking at you curiously.
Rin has never seen this expression on you before, lips pulled tight in embarrassment and pupils blown. You look more like a wild animal caught in a cage than someone who just made a move on him.
He gingerly takes the empty paper cone from your hands and folds it up, no longer able to meet your gaze lest he explode on the spot.
“Yeah,” he says softly, shuffling over to dump it into a bin. “Thanks.”
When he turns around to look at you again, his breath gets caught in his throat.
Why are you laughing?
You giggle into your palm, hiding your gleeful smile from him as you double over slightly.
“Your face is all red!” You holler.
He grunts in embarrassment, using the back of his hand to hide his own face. “Shut the hell up,” he spits.
“It’s almost like you wanted me to kiss you!”
“Oh my god, please drop it.”
“No way! I’ve never seen you look like that before!”
(‘Speak for yourself,’ he thinks.)
“So what if I did?”
Your laughter halts as if it was swallowed into the pits of your stomach. Slowly unraveling to stand up straight, he sees another expression he’s never been able to imagine on you, but he can’t quite place it.
“Did what?” You murmur.
“Want you to kiss me.”
Your face is warm under the glow of lanterns, eyes shimmering with the overhead lights. Rin watches your mouth open and close repeatedly as you try and formulate some sort of response.
A firework explodes atop of you, and he wonders if it just saved you.
You seem jarred for only a moment more until you jolt, grabbing him roughly by the arm and giving him a pull.
“I just remembered,” you gasp. “I actually did have something to show you!”
Rin doesn’t get a word in before you’re dragging him along by the arm. With each boom of an explosion, your footsteps pick up, building into a full blown sprint out of the festival grounds and through the thicket.
You tug him along, guiding him by the hand through the winding path of trees and logs. His stamina is better than yours but you’re pushing up the hill despite your huffing and puffing—it makes him laugh with you.
When you break free of the forest, Rin’s eyes focus on a field of plush grass and buttercups.
You let go of his hand, flinging yourself forward and spinning on your heel to exaggerate how wide the opening is with your arms.
“Isn’t it great?” You shout over the fireworks. “Away from the crowd!”
He rushes up to you so that you can stop yelling, invading your personal space until you can hear him just at his normal volume.
“It’s perfect,” he tells you earnestly.
You grin up at him widely before pulling him along to the edge of the clearing. You plop down together, eyes glued to the sky as the fireworks rage on.
Rin only lasts a few seconds before his eyes drift to the side, trying to drink in your expression. It’s become a habit of his to try and imprint your very existence into his brain.
Against his better judgment, his hand creeps toward yours until your fingers are overlapped.
Thankfully, you don’t use the opportunity to tease him about it, instead shifting a little closer until you’re practically burrowed into his side. If it were anyone else, he would have shoved them away.
(When did he stop trying to push you away?)
When your pinkies slowly close together, he feels as if he can’t breathe properly.
Mark-to-mark, it’s as though he is full of all the love he’s ever felt for you from every life—past or future. Like there’s a love that exists within him that transcends lifetimes, if it were even possible.
If he were to peer into another dimension, would you still be together like this? Would you be plucking buttercups and mindlessly twirling them between your fingers? Would he be itching to envelop you in his arms just to devour you?
His thoughts cease when you take a deep breath.
“I used to come here alone,” you admit.
“No one took you?” He asks. Your gaze is piercing the night sky, never leaving the show. He can see the bloom of colours in them.
“Not since I was little, but I always loved it here.”
The question burns hot in Rin’s mind: even if it was a little lonely sometimes?
He remembers back to the night that he first saw you, with your hands dipping into the murky waters of a frog pond and an air of desolation surrounding you. Then he remembers how he couldn’t sleep that night. Not with the image of you crouching there alone burned into his memory.
“Did you know this festival is a celebration of love?” He suddenly asks.
Oh what the fuck? Oh, god. Why did he say that?
That was so lukewarm of him. So stupid. So pointless and lame.
He just wanted something to say to you, something that would make him stop thinking about how you might have been alone for all that time before you knew him.
The silence burns between you, tense and awkward until he starts stuttering out something else to fill the void. But then you look at him, slow and intrigued and so damn amused that he can feel heat rising to the tips of his ears.
“I had no idea.”
There’s a longing in your expression that tells a different story. A twitch of your pinky against his that gives away your blatant lie.
And, damnit. Here he is again, four years later under the same stars. Under the same fireworks. Only this time, he’s able to see your face even closer as it lights up a million different colours—teal like his eyes; rose like his cheeks; golden like the heart he’s tried so hard to protect.
Four years later and he still thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen: pinkies interlocked, sheepish smile on your face, an undeniable shake in your voice that means you have more that you’re too nervous to say.
For a moment he considers finally letting go of all the things keeping him bolted and chained where he stands, swallowing the key to the cage surrounding his fragile, thumping heart. And for that fleeting second, he feels as though he’s the bravest man alive—that nothing could stop him even if you were to turn away and snub him out with the heel of your foot.
But how could he open his mouth and tell you anything when all he feels is the sick twisting of his stomach, the daunting glare of the older brother he adored so much, and the coldness of snow soaking his clothes as he sits in a field and cries?
There’s a burning, raging fire within him. Something primal and afraid and unchanging despite how much he wants to fall into your arms the way your shared etchings say he should.
It screams at him: run away. Run. Run. Run. This will only end in hurt.
He’s too fucked up. Too messed in the head and too quick to anger because he’s actually soft at heart, easy to betray—
“Rin.”
Your hand swiftly captures his face and he’s dragged unceremoniously out of his reverie.
Of course you would be able to pick out his turmoil by expression alone. By the droop of his lips into a frown—not the annoyed one he would flash his teammates, or the grimace he would scare children away with. The kind that’s sad and slow and timid, like an animal caught in a net.
“I’m really happy that we’re friends.”
“Friends?” He breathes, half confused and half incredulous.
Deep down he knows that it’s an attempt to comfort him without being too sappy. Maybe you can sense it somewhere in your soul that he would probably break down and sob if you were to make him feel any more vulnerable than he already is with you. It’s an effort to take away whatever guilt he feels and give him a chance to relax.
However, he can see a different tale in your eyes.
Loneliness as empty as the sky on a cloudy night. A yearning for more, for someone, for him, to fill the gap. I’m tired of waiting. That’s all he can read beneath the sea of colour exploding in your irises.
It only makes him feel worse, but he allows himself to be lied to anyway if only to feel the warmth of your skin against his just a bit longer.
“Yeah.”
Your pinky twitches again. He can feel the brush of your name against his, the grate of your matching soul marks. Your eyes tear away from his and are glued to the infinite sky above once more. To the stars you know are there but are covered by smoke and fire.
Rin only stares at you. He can’t focus on the explosions of fireworks anymore, not when you’re right in front of him looking so perfect. His summer treasure.
“Yeah?”
He knows he sounds dumb, repeating everything like an oaf who can’t fathom what’s being said. You giggle and it floors him.
“Just being able to stand here with you—” you glance at him again, only for a second. He can see the exhaustion in that moment, but he’s too selfish to pry. “—I think I’m the luckiest person alive.”
“Even if…” He swallows harshly. It feels like shrapnel cutting down his throat. “Even if I can’t be more?”
“Even so.”
There’s a pause and you open your mouth to say more, maybe to give him an ultimatum or to elaborate on your feelings, but then you’re interrupted by the end of the display.
Counteless fireworks explode above you in the finale. Rin can hear the awestruck gasps of families down the hill, the distant cries of children and the faint shutter of cameras filling the air.
He realizes then: he’s been smiling. His cheeks hurt from how big it’s gotten. And you’re smiling at him, too.
(The fireworks rage on, but in the end, all he can look at is you.)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2022
Falling in love with Itoshi Rin was one of the most foolish, most wonderful things that could have happened to you.
He was an enigma in and of itself, a mystery of a soulmate who was able to love you wholeheartedly and push you away at the same time.
There were nights where you would stay up wondering why he was your soulmate when it seemed like all he wanted to be was alone. Other times, you fell asleep smiling to yourself knowing that somewhere deep down you both belonged to each other. 
The universe chose you. The universe chose him. It was indisputable, yet you still had doubts.
Tonight is one of those “foolish” nights. It seems as though you have been stood up.
For three hours you’ve waited in the same spot at the gates of the festival, watching families and couples pass by but never the one person you’d wait until the end of the world for. The sun has long since gone to sleep over the horizon and the streets are fully lit up with lanterns for the festivities.
6 pm. That was the time Rin promised he would meet you. In the past, he was always late but at least had the decency to tell you beforehand that you could go ahead without him. Only when you arrived and sat down to wait for him had he finally messaged you.
Rin: gonna be late. see you at 7.
7 pm. That was the rescheduled time. It was when you expected to see him walking up to you in his yukata that you begged him to wear this year, matching adoringly with yours. And at 7 pm you would tell him. You would tell him everything.
For months prior you had practiced almost pathetically so, recited and perfected your speech while staring at your reflection in a mirror. You’d written him a letter, too.
7 pm. You were finally going to thank Rin for everything. For accompanying you to such a silly festival even though you know he loathes it. For meeting you under the stars and the moon and the fireworks time and time again. For bringing life back into a childhood memory that you had long since hated.
7 pm. You were going to tell him thank you. You were going to tell him you loved him, just as it had been written in the stars many years before you were born.
It’s 9 pm, nearing 10 and the start of the fireworks show. He missed the entire night without explanation.
At 9:58 pm, just as you’re about to give up all hope, you finally come face to face with teal eyes and a stupidly handsome face sheen with sweat. It shouldn’t hurt so much, the way he looks at you so dismissively as if he hadn’t blown you off all night. 
“Sorry,” he mutters disingenuously, attempting to brush past you without a second thought. “Let’s go, I’m thirsty.”
He has his gym bag slung over his shoulder and a windbreaker over his uniform. No sign of the yukata you had picked out for him to wear.
You don’t follow him, staring at his back in disbelief. When he realizes you aren’t trailing behind, he turns on his heel and raises a brow in question. “Are you coming?”
“I was waiting for you all night,” you tell him coldly. I was waiting for you all this time and you never showed up. 
He swallows thickly, suddenly overcome by guilt because of your downcast expression. “I know. I lost track of time.”
“Lost track of time?” You scoff incredulously. Your mouth opens as if you have more to say, but you’re interrupted by a bang.
Rin’s eyes flutter closed. He can’t listen to this. He can’t watch.
He knows this all too well. He knew it all along.
The universe was wrong. Itoshi Rin was never cut out to be someone’s soulmate.
“We’re missing it…”
Your back is turned to him but all he can imagine is the terrible expression you must be making right now, twisted in sadness and anger. The worse image is a completely blank face—unfeeling and cold. He doesn’t even want to think about it.
Booms echo in the distance yet all he can focus on is the faint hum in his ears, the horrible churning in his stomach and the fog of guilt clouding his head.
“I’m sorry,” he says so quietly that he’s sure you can’t even hear him under the deep, bellowing explosions over the horizon.
He doesn’t remember the last time he apologized for anything like this. Being cold and aloof was just in his nature. Never before had he felt like it was necessary to be remorseful for the way he is—for how he was made to be.
The slight tremble of your shoulders and the way you use the back of your sleeves to wipe tears from your eyes force the words out of him before he can stop it. He tells you again,
“I’m sorry.”
He weakly attempts to grab you by the arms, holding you from behind so he can make you look at him. You jerk away fast as lightning, knocking him away as you swivel around to glare.
“Why didn’t you come?” You demand. There’s anger shaking in your voice. Rin doesn’t know how to respond to it, not when you’ve always been so understanding and kind. Perhaps he was too cruel for you if he was going to break you this way.
“I got caught up with—”
“With football, right?” You laugh bitterly, taking a generous step back. Hurt pours from every inch of your expression and all it does is make his heart ache.
“Stop,” he suddenly snaps. You flinch at his tone and shrink back, only adding to his guilt. He always had the worst temper. “Don’t be like this. You know it was important,” he explains, gentler this time. Softer, trying to coax you back over.
There’s a beat of complete silence, save for the hollowed explosions in the distance. Rin blinks at you a couple times before his frayed nerves finally calm again. And then he realizes something terrible.
The look in your eyes, the deflation of your shoulders—this is what utter defeat looks like. For a moment deja vu rushes through his blood, bringing him back to a time when he too felt as miserable as you. 
Every year he’s had the opportunity to read your expression: I’m tired of waiting. But he always foolishly assumed you would still wait around for him forever. That your patience would be as infinite as the stars in the sky. That just because he had the privilege of having his name scrawled down your pinky, he would be guaranteed to have you.
It was disgustingly selfish.
Just as he opens his mouth to apologize again, you storm up to him and shove the piece of paper roughly into his chest. With the closed gap, he can clearly see the tears streaming down your face illuminated by warm lanterns.
“Just forget it.”
“Wait—” He catches your wrist as you push past him, stopping you in your tracks again despite your struggle to get away. “Come on, I said I’m sorry!”
“Rin,” you sniffle, voice breaking with just the syllable of his name. It makes him falter. “I’m tired.”
“But—”
“You can’t even spare me one night? Just this one night in the entire year?” You breathe, no longer trying to dance around the subject. “What is it with you? What are you so afraid of?”
Being put in the spotlight never bothered Rin before. It was easy enough to ignore when all his life he was watched carefully. But it’s different with you; you’re the only one looking at him in this moment yet it feels like the weight of a million pairs of eyes at once.
An answer comes quickly to his mind, almost natural. He knows exactly what’s wrong with him.
He’s afraid of being left behind again. Of being hurt. Rin is terrified of love and being loved because he’s too pathetically fragile.
The pieces of his heart are clumsily glued together and he’s scared that even the smallest turbulence would send it shattering into a billion shards again. He doesn’t know how to put himself back together properly anymore. 
Itoshi Sae permanently fucked him up.
Though they were on slightly better terms now, the scars would always haunt him. The simple solution is to shut everyone else out, to protect the weak heart he harbours.
If he told you that, would you understand? Or would you try and claw his name off your skin?
You take his silence as an answer and pry away from him again, holding yourself protectively—guarding yourself from the catastrophe that follows Rin wherever he goes.
“Goodbye, Rin.”
He doesn’t watch you go. 
The nearest bench becomes his temporary home. He could do hundreds of plays in a football game and never tire, but for some reason your disdain has sucked every ounce of energy from his body.
It doesn’t register that he’s still holding the paper you forced into his hands until it crinkles in his hold. He slowly unfolds it revealing ink sloppily smeared across the page.
And then he reads it. Again. And again. And again, until it’s shaking in his hold. Until the dull ache in his heart feels like the pierce of a knife. 
Rin doesn’t know what to do anymore. He’s always had one clear goal for his entire life, but now everything is all muddled. Messy, like everything else he touches.
He turns everything into a disaster.
Does he chase after you and risk having his fragile heart broken all over again? Does he risk being left behind or does he close off the gate for that option entirely? He could sit in his cowardice and never change, preserving his heart forever in this moment of time; a polaroid in the slideshow of his mortality.
There’s a familiarity to this all. Perhaps he had lived through this decision a million lives before this. Maybe he would live through it again an infinite amount of times, so long as it was your name etched into his skin.
Was he as messed up in this life as he was in every other?
If he had ruined everything in this life, if he made the wrong choice and drove you away in hatred until you drew your last breath, then maybe he could make it all up to you in the next one.
Or, if that were the case, maybe he was born into this world only to love you—to make up for the millenia where he ran away.
Rin’s legs have never moved so fast. Not in football. Not even from his brother. If you were the light at the end of the tunnel then he would keep chasing you forever, he thinks. Until his wounded heart gave out.
Of all the stupid decisions he’s made in his life, have any of them amounted to anything? He’s going to give it one last try. One more chance to prove to himself that not everything he touches burns to ashes.
“Wait!”
You visibly startle, eyes wide as you turn to see Rin dashing toward you. He doesn’t give you even a moment to ask questions, to wonder why he’s coming back to break your heart again. 
You’re engulfed in a hug faster than you can blink, stumbling back from the force of his body colliding with yours until your sandals get kicked off your feet.
“Rin?” You murmur his name in disbelief, breathless even though you weren’t the one sprinting down the road.
“Just give me one more chance,” he stammers out. You can feel the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders as he holds you and fights for air simultaneously. Your hands twitch at your sides but you remain lifeless in his arms.
He tries again: “Let me prove it to you. Let me prove that it wasn’t some freak accident that led me to you. That my name on your skin is meant to be there.”
“Don’t do this,” you tell him quietly, lips brushing against his ear as you speak. “I don’t want to be loved and feared at the same time.”
“But…” Rin squeezes your body against his, almost desperately. Clinging to what he has ruined. “For once in my life, I want something more.”
I don’t want to be alone anymore.
You hesitantly shift, hands slowly trailing up his back until your body is curling against his. He can trace the outline of your body against his, like a puzzle piece that he was missing slotted perfectly in his grasp.
“I thought my soulmate would only slow me down and break me. I was wrong. I know that now.”
He slowly rocks your bodies back and forth. You pull away until your eyes meet his, red with tears. It’s the messiest he has ever seen you, but his heart refuses to be still. It aches.
Beautiful. It’s the only word he can describe you with. It didn’t matter if you were lit up under the wondrous sky, or handing him coffee in a crowded café, or sobbing in his arms. 
You would only ever be his infinitely beautiful soulmate.
It’s the only constant he would have in this life and every other, even if you were to break his heart. It would be the single greatest achievement in his time, above football, above any of his petty competitions—that your name is etched down his pinky.
It scares him. It thrills him.
With the distant roar of fireworks, he kisses you. And you allow him, hiccuping against his lips as you cry.
You stay like that for a long time, listening to the hollow shockwaves of fireworks exploding miles away. He’s the first to draw back, raking in shallow breaths. You chase him, finding solace against his lips once more but not fully indulging him with another kiss.
“Do you fear me?” You whisper into his mouth.
“More than anything,” he tells you.
“Do you love me?”
After a moment of contemplation, he answers,
“More than anything.”
You nod slowly, awkwardly pulling away from him and taking a step back. It’s your first kiss and you don’t know where you’re supposed to look anymore. Rin stops your nervous shifting with his hand swooping under your chin.
“One year. I promise.” You look at him in confusion, so he continues. “Next year, when the season and my contract are over, I’ll meet you there. At the pond.”
You seem skeptical still, with your brows knitted together and a lost haze in your eyes. He raises his pinky, the one with your name forever grafted into the skin, and offers it to you.
“I pinky promise.”
It’s so ridiculous, wearing his heart on his sleeve with something he learned about on playgrounds when he was a child. A pinky promise shouldn’t mean any more than the words he has already spoken. But for some reason, your eyes light up.
He feels nothing but relief when your pinkies lock together.
“Okay,” you breathe.
“You’ll wait for me?”
“Rin.” His name leaves you in a breathless laugh that makes his world spin. It sounds so tired yet so sweet. “I’ve been waiting all my life.”
“I’m sorry,” he says once more for good measure. You nod. A wordless acceptance.
Itoshi Rin is your soulmate. It’s not like that fact will ever change no matter the time, no matter the distance.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2023
Fate is a funny thing. Soulmates are a funny thing.
The universe threw Rin curveball after curveball, beating him down until he was nothing but a husk heavenly built for one purpose only: beat Sae. Beat Itoshi Sae.
There were times when he would lay awake at night wondering why he was given this life, why he was thrust into hardship and hurt and betrayal. How could something so perfect, something so all-knowing, be so cruel?
For as long as the name had been grafted into his skin, he resented the idea of a soulmate.
He hated the idea that only one person in the world would be his eternal weakness. That one day, one person would hold every piece of his soul in their hands. Even then, his soulmate was the other half of him—his salvation. His downfall.
They would know every inch of his skin. Every bleeding wound of his heart. Every bruise and scar along his legs from cleats and nails and gravel. Having a soulmate meant having every part of him exposed, to be judged and worshiped at the same time.
At your hands, though, he’s certain this is what he was born for—to spend the rest of his days by your side even if you were doing something as mundane as catching frogs together.
“You’re scaring them,” you hiss quietly.
Your fingers sink into the pond and Rin watches your reflections ripple as water fills your palms. Your faces contort and meld into one being. In some ways, it’s a familiar feeling—to have been intertwined with you since his very conception.
“You’re terrible at this.”
“It’s your fault!”
“Right,” he deadpans. “You haven’t caught a single one all night.”
“You were late,” you remind him with a huff, cheeks inflated. “Before you got here I was catching frogs all night. Coincidence?”
Rin makes another noise, something akin to a snort. But he doesn’t acknowledge your statement, instead reaching over to gingerly roll the sleeves of your yukata up to your elbows.
“Are you always so sloppy? Your sleeves are getting all wet.”
You glare at him from the side, delivering a deadly warning. “Are you always such a pain in the ass?”
“I get it, I get it. I said I was sorry for being late. Nii-chan really wanted to try that new ice cream place downtown.”
Your gaze drifts to him in the shimmering reflection, watching his smile soften at the mention of his big brother. It was wonderful that they were trying to patch things up.
Sae had decided to come home after all, promising Rin that they would play together again once they both took a well deserved break.
You could tell that Rin was trying his best not to make a big deal out of it, but the way he cried into your shoulder later that night said it all.
“I feel bad having you come all the way out here just to see me. Your brother is back in Japan isn’t he?”
“Yeah. And he wants to meet you.”
You nearly fall over. “What?”
“Please don’t look so starstruck about that. I feel sick.”
Laughing, you recentre yourself, sitting back on your heels with your hands on your knees. “Sorry, sorry! It’s not that…”
Rin raises a brow. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“It’s just—” you fumble, cheeks burning hot at the idea of being introduced to Rin’s family after all these years. Formally, as his partner. His soulmate. The name they had all known since he was thirteen. “What would I even say to him?”
He looks at you in bewilderment. Then, he snickers, only laughing harder when you smack his arm.
“Don’t worry about that,” he assures, reaching out to pat the top of your head. “Just be yourself. My family will love you.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, studying your reflections in the water with a soft smile. You’re staring right back at yourself, but Rin is only looking at you.
“I haven’t done anything special.”
“You lit up my world,” you laugh, turning back up to look at him properly. You make a mini explosion with your hands. “Boom! Like that. A firework.”
“You’re too corny,” he murmurs in embarrassment, turning his head away to hide his flushed face. “Can’t you explain it like a normal person?”
“No can do,” you tell him, voice gentler this time. After a pause, you shuffle your sandals around in the mud and take a deep breath. “If you want me to be totally serious…”
You lunge over and tackle him into your arms. He nearly loses his balance holding the both of you upright, stumbling back on his heels before he catches your waist. You don’t seem to share the sentiment of staying pristine, knees digging into the dirt as you squeeze him tighter.
Rin feels his heart catch in his throat the same way you’ve made it for the last six years.
“Thank you. For letting me love you. For being my soulmate.”
His hand is automatically in your hair, scratching your scalp as he smiles into your shoulder.
“I’m sure I gave you nothing but a hard time,” he grumbles.
“But I still love you.”
“Even though you had to wait?”
“Even so.”
“And that I’m a pain in the ass?”
“Even then, I do.”
Rin burrows himself into your neck, hiding his face again. It does a poor job at masking the kind of expression he’s making, though, considering how warm his skin is.
“What if I’m not good enough?”
He feels terrible—guilty that he needs to keep having this conversation with you. But you always comfort him the same way. He hopes you always will.
Drawing his head up with your muddy hands, you dirty his cheeks just to get a glimpse of him. You murmur a half-hearted sorry for making a mess.
Then you’re kissing him.
“I’ll be here to remind you how much I cherish you.”
You nip his bottom lip and he opens wider. You whisper into his mouth,
“And how happy I am that Itoshi Rin was born into this world.”
Itoshi Rin, broken. He who thought that he could never be put back together.
Itoshi Rin, vengeful. He who believed the only happiness that existed for him in this world was to surpass his brother.
Itoshi Rin, who did not believe in his soulmate while staring right at them. And Itoshi Rin, who finally allowed himself to love you wholly, completely, as it was written in the stars.
“I love you,” he says, as if just those three words could encapsulate everything he feels for you.
“Always?” You giggle. He rolls his eyes. 
“Wherever you are, and wherever you may be, I will.”
You kiss him one more time for good measure.
“That was corny.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2024
“No peeking.”
Rin folds up his piece of paper and hangs it from the bamboo tree. You’re tugging him along before he can even properly check to see if it’s been secured.
“Come on, I don’t want to miss the fireworks!”
He wouldn’t miss them for the world. You’ve always looked the most beautiful under the brightened summer sky.
The wish he scribbled down blows softly in the breeze as both of you rush by, back to the festival where it all began.
7 July 2024. I wish I had the words to tell you how much I love you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
extra notes. hi! if you made it this far, i'd like to give you the warmest most grateful thank you ever ( ´ ω `)
so, here it is. i've been working on this since last september-ish... for some people that amount of time is not much, but genuinely, i've never devoted so much attention and time to one single fic and i hope i did this one justice. rin has always been a guilty pleasure of mine to write for. i hope this man stays far far away from me until i can stomach even looking at his name again LOL ‾́ ◡ ‾́
also i finally admitted defeat and took out all my pictures and dividers because tumblr was fighting my posts that had any. so... sorry the formatting looks like this
additional tags: @jenoutof10 @hanrinz @itoshiexx lol hi guys it made it out of the drafts i hope you like it
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heartfullofleeches · 30 days
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[Angst]
Childhood Best Friends with a small age gap- two or three years, nothing crazy- but it means everything as they age.
It was hard for them to make friends their age when you first met. They liked things that were too "childish" for their peers - things another child who lived not to far away adored. They'd seen each other on the way to school, but they didn't interact frequently due to their difference in grade.
Until that day-
"Whoa...Cool backpack. You like that show too?"
"Thanks... I'm thinking of getting a new one though... Do you want me to ask my parents if you can have it?"
"What?! It looks fine to me... Why are you getting rid of it?"
"My friends called me a baby... I won't be able to go back to class without everyone laughing at me unless I get a better one."
"That's silly!.... It's on right now... Wanna watch it with me?"
The two were inseparable from then on- School hindered the time they had to see each other each morning, but as soon as it let out - both ran to meet with their new best friend. The elder of the pair was often mocked and teased for their choice, but they could hardly care anymore. They had someone who'd stick by their side to the very end - childish fixations and all.
Years went on and they made new friends. It happens. More obstacles began piling up throughout - chipping away at the few hours they scarcely had to begin with. Studying, Hobbies, balancing days between hanging out with other friend groups and the person who once meant the world. They tried to make things works, but nothing went to plan-
"Is it alright if Y/n comes with us tonight?"
"Y/N? Aren't they're too young to see this movie? We shouldn't be responsible if they have night terrors or something.."
"They aren't that young... Are they?"
They never thought about it before. You were so close in age as kids it never hit them that as you grew that little gap drew a bridge between you - and it was easier to let you go than finding an alternative.
"Hey, Dude! Are we still on for this weekend? I can't believe they're making a reboot after all this time!.."
"Are my messages going through? You haven't responded in a while... I saw you outside school yesterday and yelled your name, but....."
"Did I do something wrong?"
"Hey."
"You're hanging out with them today? Did you forget about my birthday?...."
"You removed me off your list of friends...We're still friends, right?"
"Let me alone. I'm sick of being your babysitter. Go find friends your own age and stay away from mine."
And that was the end of things.
College cames around and their live became relatively tame. Their thoughts drifted to that childhood friend of theirs every now and again, but between school and partying with the new friends they had made - those memories faded to the back of their mind.
An acquaintance asks them to help show some new faces around the campus. One sticks out to them amongst the crowd. It's you. What do they say to you after all these years? You don't look sad to see them. Nor angry. Intact - you look..
Relieved.
Pulling them aside at the end of the tour, you free yourself from the burden that's weighted down on you since they left you.
"I'm sorry."
"It was never my intention to hold you back. Overtime I realized I was just that annoying kid who clung onto you because I thought you were my first and only friend...When you never felt that way about me. I'm sorry for taking that away from you. If our paths cross again, I promise I won't even look at you."
After being abandoned by your best friend- the person you looked up to most, you matured well beyond your years in hopes that would make you like them again. Overtime, you gave up that goal, but others could see how you've changed.
"Isn't that.... Y/n?.."
"Oh, man- It is! You guys were glued at the hip before we became teens."
"They're..kinda cute... Do you still have their number?"
All this time apart, a feeling long forgotten resurged inside them. The need to protect you. You didn't know these people like they did. You shouldn't be going to parties with them, getting to know and befriend them. They'll only hurt you - worse than they had. They never should have said goodbye to you- They should have allowed the feelings they were so scared to have, but had always been there develop and blossom naturally until you both were adults ready to move on to that stage in your friendship.
They know you best. No matter how much you grow as a person, you're still the same.
"That's a cute Keychain, Y/n!"
"Thanks! I've loved this show since I was a kid!"
They'll prove it to you.
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togament · 2 months
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⤷ ume, sakura, nirei, kiryu, kaji, togame, suo, endo.
"he wants to make you smile so he left you a little note. What'd he write and where'd he hide it? I got you."
⤷ 𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF!!!!, g/n reader, suo's kinda scares me ngl, I feel guilty for togame pls be patient with him He Is Trying, ENDO IS SCARY, nirei is very sweet oh MY GOD, all the fluff all the fluffies!!!!!!!
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♯ 𝐔𝐌𝐄
"You found it! ◡̈ I just wanted to drop a little sunshine for my sunshine while I go get some sunshine ☼ You're my favorite person in the world and I hope this note makes your heart do a little happy dance like mine does whenever I see you. If you find this (and you did!! Yay!) it means you're awesome and that I'm so lucky to have you in my life. I love you!!!!! Your Number One Fan, 🍑"
Little doodles and happy scribbles!!!! You can tell he was smiling so widely when he wrote everything out for you -- it's like you can feel his happiness radiating from his writing it's very infectious. He just loves you that much.
(hid it in your favorite mug for you to find in the morning when he's out tending to his garden.)
────
♯ 𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈
"Hey, love. Just a quick note to remind you how much I appreciate everything you do. For me and the boys. Your support means the absolute world to me. Don't forget to take your vitamins today -- gotta take care of yourself too, alright? I love you. - T."
Thankful and doting!!!!!! Vaguely smells like him too so you know he kept the note right by his jacket pocket for a while before sneaking it into its rightful hiding spot. His handwriting is sharp and you know he wrote it quick. He probably wrote it while on patrol.
(hid it inside your vitamin case that you use daily so you find it easily.)
────
♯ 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀
"I'm not really good with this whole cutesy stuff, but I wanted to let you know I'm thinking about you. You make my days better (even if I don't say it right). Love you. Lots. - S. P.S. there's chocolate for you in the fridge :)"
Clumsy and cute, the note has little writing indents of past notes he's written and promptly thrown away. He settled for this one because you're stirring awake beside him and he doesn't wanna get caught lmao
(Has the note hidden in one of the books you're currently reading, right where your bookmark is.) ────
♯ 𝐍𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐈
"Whoops. You found me. Wanted to leave you a little surprise! I'm planning on something fun for us real soon, but until then (tonight!!) I hope this note makes you smile as much as you make me smile every day. You're the best! I can't wait to see you. - your bunny."
Bright and cheery, much like Nirei is. Of course he has something planned for the both of you by the end of the day and he's keeping it a secret... But you know him. Something's bound to slip from his lips when you meet up with him tonight. Promise to act surprised?
(He hides it inside your pencil box because he knows you use it on the daily.)
────
♯ 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐔
"Sweetheart! ♡ Surprise! I just wanted to leave a little reminder of how much I adore you. If you find this note, it means you didn't wait for me to play with you ( •̀ - •́ ) kidding! Can't wait to start our new game tonight. I love youuuu!! - forever your Player Two ♡"
Written on a purple and pink post-it, it's spritzed with his perfume. His penmanship is remarkable too. Playful and sweet!!!!! It makes you extremely giddy and excited to meet up with him later. You know for a fact he's got his space set and decked out in fairy lights for your game night. Gotta wait for a couple more hours though UGHHHSHAS
(has it neatly hidden inside the game case of the new game you both have been dying to play.)
────
♯ 𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈
"Before anything, don't get mushy on me. Just wanted to say you're pretty great and I'm glad you're around. Found this album at the shop. Remembered you saying you wanted to listen to them, so I guess that's my way of saying I care. Listen to it with me later. - Ren. ♡"
neatly written on a post-it note, you kinda think it could be printed out. It's crazy. Short and concise, you can tell he had his brows furrowed when he wrote this for you. He's trying!!!!!! He really is!!!! You know he'd bring some food for the both of you when you meet up. He's a romantic at heart.
(has it taped to the CD he bought for you right next to your player.)
────
♯ 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄
"I'm probably late again, aren't I? Big surprise. I promise I'm working on it, but in the meantime, I thought I'd leave you a little reminder that you're amazing and that I promise I'll always be worth the wait. Thank you for being so patient with me, doll. I love you. A lot. Bringing your favorite dish tonight. Kame Special. -🐢"
HE'S TRYINGGG AAAASJKDKJASD!!!!!! As you read, you can practically hear the slight purr in his voice and he sounds so apologetic too. HE'S TRYING HE'S TRYINGGJAKJDS he loves his sleep a bit too much, you see. Pepper him in kisses when you meet him tonight. He deserves as much.
(Snuck it inside your planner the night before your date so you'd find it when you go check on your schedule for the day. He's not late for your home date later, by the way.)
────
♯ 𝐒𝐔𝐎
"My dove. Consider this a little hint: I've got a little something special planned for you, but you'll have to find more clues first and follow them. I promise you won't be disappointed. I'll be waiting for you tonight. Wear that dress that I love so much, yes? - Your Hayato."
uH OH. UH OH UH OH. Your man has you working for the surprise but that's such a him thing to do. At least he has something super cute planned by the end of it!!! If he says you won't be disappointed, he means it. HE MEANS IT.
(hid it inside the pocket of your coat that he knows you'll be using today. It's something you'd naturally reach into. Such a Suo thing to plan out.)
────
♯ 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎
"Hey there, gorgeous. I know you're in the middle of pretending not to miss me while reading up on this chapter. It's my favorite one, by the way. If you find this note, it means I'm missing you too and totally not hiding underneath your bed or in your closet ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ See you in a sec. - Only Your Yams."
Ominous and teasing, much like Endo is. You kind of wanna check under your bed and in your closet but you know your boyfriend's just out to grab some coffee for the both of you. His handwriting is legible and super neat and he spritzed some of his favorite perfume on the note too. Mmmmm. Sandalwood and smoky vanilla.
(hid it between the pages of your favorite book with your bookmark replaced with a new one he bought for you. One of those fancy ones that can mark the words and stuff. Has to match his.)
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a/n: I FINALLY WROTE SOMETHING I FUNALLYNJASDJKASD HUHUHUHUHUUASHKAS thank you for reading through this. I feel very rusty.
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vivwritesfics · 5 months
Note
hi 🥹🥹 idk if this is okay but can i request a os ( or a series if you think it’s worthy, you decide ! ) where lando and yn are exes and they meet during a party after soooo many years and they are still super angry at each other (no cheating because i read your rules but idk, maybe they broke up because of distance?? or lando wanted to focus on his career ??). Despite that, tension builds up and they end up having sex all night and then they confess they never forget each other and idk a lil happy ending?
a right person wrong time ex lovers to enemies to lovers again sort of idk ahahahahahah
love youuuuuu
I've been pretty away from things for the last two days and I'm sorry, but hoping to get back on track real soon
Verstappen reader
Warnings: light smut, fingering
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When you break up with someone you're still in love with, it sucks. It really fucking sucks. So much that it's easier to let yourself hate them than miss them.
It was years ago, but she still hated him. And seeing him on her television so often made her hate him more. It would have been easier if he hated her too, but he didn't. Her brother made sure she was aware of it.
She'd managed to avoid races, has done for years at this point. But Max was about to win his third championship, and he wanted her there for it.
So, he flew her out to Qatar.
For the entire race weekend, she ignored him. She ignored him with everything she had. Hiding out in the Red Bull garage, walking the other way whenever anybody dressed in orange came towards her.
But then Max won the goddamn championship. That wasn't what she was mad about. She was so fucking happy that her big brother had won the championship. She couldn't say no to going out partying with him.
Neither could Lando, either.
He didn't know she was going to be there, didn't know that she was even in the country. But, the moment his eyes met hers, fuck. He couldn't stop himself from striding over to her, drink in hand.
"Hey," he said, a little breathlessly. Well, she she looked incredibly fucking good.
Her hand reached out and struck his face. Lando held his cheek as he looked down at her. "What was that for?" He asked, but he knew. He knew how he had fucked up and he regretted it so much.
""Fuck you," she spat, stepping closer. But then she backed off to find her brother.
The night kept going on like this. They kept running into each other, dancing together for just a few minutes before she remembered who she was with and backed off.
Lando hadn't kissed her at the end of the night. He hadn't climbed into her lap as she sat in a booth (something she did to her). With her situated in his lap, hands on the back of his neck, she pressed her lips to his own.
"Fuck," he grunted against her lips as he grabbed her waist.
She whimpered and began trailing kisses down his neck. "Take me to your room, Lan," she whispered.
Her voice was so soft, how could he ever say no?
That was how she ended up in his hotel. Lando laid her on his bed, his hands touching her like he hadn't forgotten how. She moaned as he pulled down her underwear, his hands touching her thighs. Even this was better than anything she'd had in the years since they broke up.
"I've missed this," he whispered as his finger ran through her folds. She tossed her head back as he felt just how wet she was.
Fuck, he needed her now.
Lando dropped his trousers. He slowly and gently thrust his fingers into her, opening her up before he entered her.
It was like he was made to fill her. And he did, over and over again, until the sun shone through the window and light filled the room.
The new day came a new sense of clarity. She'd fucked her ex. Who the hell made the mistake of sleeping with their ex? She couldn't help but feel stupid as she looked at him, sleeping in the bed beside her. She'd missed him, so damn much.
But he was the one who didn't want her.
As she slipped out of the bed, a hand reached for her. "Don't go," he said. "Stay with me, please."
She couldn't stop herself from letting a sigh loose from her lips. "Why should I, Lan?" She couldn't stop the nickname from slipping out. "You don't want me, so why should I?"
He couldn't help but groan. "I do want you," he said.
She pulled away from him and gathered her clothes up from the floor. "Then start acting like it."
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sanguineterrain · 5 months
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Hey! Can I request a Clark x reader where they're dating but reader doesn't know Clark is superman. And then superman interacts with them for whatever reason and is flirty bc that's his person!!! But reader is like ☝️ hey buddy back off. I'm HAPPILY taken
this is such a cute request!!!! Argh!!!!
clark kent/superman x gn!reader. fluff, brief danger but r is okay. superman flirting with you but he's dating you? he's just a goober. i lub him <3 PLEASE feel free to imagine maws!clark. I feel like this is very himcore 🥰
****
Being a florist in Metropolis is good work. Lots of people still buy flowers, which is great. Many actually buy bouquets for Superman and leave them on display as support. Poppies, yellow tulips, and cornflowers. They're one of your favorite arrangements.
The downside to being a florist in Metropolis, however, is that on occasion, your flower display ends up the target of a killer robot.
You're not sure why that is. Mostly, you wish people would stop building killer robots.
You've gone outside to see what the commotion is about when you're grabbed by a metal claw. It squeezes hard, almost cutting off your air. You squirm in terror as the robot stomps down Main Street, crushing cars and asphalt in its wake.
"Help!" you scream when you catch your breath, and the robot squeezes you harder.
A dizzying blur of red, yellow, and blue zips past you. You think of your flowers.
The blur cuts through the metal like nothing. The robot begins to collapse, twitching and groaning. Its metal creaks, grip loosening on your body.
You hardly fall before Superman is there, cradling you to his chest.
"I've got you," he says, tucking you close.
You look up at him, and he beams at you, like saving you from a killer robot has been the best part of his day.
Come to think of it, Superman came to your aid surprisingly fast, even for him.
And he holds you... intimately. Like you've known him for years. Your heart picks up.
"Uh," he says, cheeks flushed. "Are–are you okay?"
You smile politely, arms around his neck. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Superman."
He nods, flying down the street. "Good. I'll get you back to your shop and clean up the flowers."
You tilt your head. "How do you know I'm a florist?"
Superman looks at you, blue eyes wide.
"Oh! I... uh, I've seen your arrangements all over the city. They're beautiful. I'd never forget that they belong to an equally beautiful face."
Goodness. If Superman is this forward with everyone he rescues, it's no wonder your flower arrangements are in high demand.
"I'm flattered," you begin, and Superman once again aims that grin with the power of a thousand suns at you. "But, respectfully, I'm very happily taken, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep this rescue professional."
Superman raises an eyebrow. To your surprise, he smiles wider.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't realize you were taken. My sincerest apologies. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."
"No, it's alright. I'm honored, but you couldn't pull me away from my boyfriend even with your super strength."
Superman's cheeks turn pinker. He sets you down in front of your store with the utmost care, not letting go until you have your bearings. He takes a step back, rubbing his neck. The gesture makes your brain itch. You don't know why.
"Well, uh, he must've done something right if he's lucky enough to be with you."
"Luck has nothing to do with it," you say fiercely. You don't know why you're so indignant about defending Clark's reputation to Superman. It's not like Clark will ever hear about it.
"No?"
"Not at all. He's an incredible person, kind and smart and loving, and if anyone's lucky, it's me."
Superman makes an aborted gesture to take your hand, then redirects and awkwardly pats your arm instead. You squint at him. He quickly moves away.
"Ah. Sorry. Well, I doubt that. I bet you're equally spectacular."
"Oh. Thank you."
You primly take his hand and give it a good shake. Superman bows his head and laughs.
He takes a step back, eyes bright like you've just made his day.
"Well, I wish you the best with your boyfriend. I'm sorry for being so forward. I've seen your Superman bouquets; your reputation precedes you. I make it a point to know reputed people in Metropolis."
"I can't imagine I'm very high on that list," you say.
"Ah, you'd be surprised. Besides, I never forget a face."
Superman darts behind you and moves at neckbreaking speed to clean up your partially maimed flowers. In three seconds, it's returned to its former glory.
"Well, uh, I'll be seeing you," Superman says, hands clasped behind his back. "I mean, I hope not in a circumstance like this! Th-then again, when else would we see each other? Scratch that, I hope there's no reason for us to cross paths because that would mean you're in danger. Uh, but I don't mean that in a bad way! I just—"
You snort and reach over to take a yellow tulip from your display. You give it to Superman, who takes it like you've just handed him a newborn baby.
"I'm still taken," you say. "But you're very sweet, Superman. Take care, alright?"
"Yeah," he says, tucking the tulip into the strap of his cape. "Yes, you too. Goodbye!"
He soars away, the tulip like a star on his cape.
Superman is handsome and kind, no doubt. But he's certainly no Clark Kent.
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ladykailitha · 2 months
Text
A Gentle Bloom
I don't know where this came from but I think I lost the plot a little bit at the end there. But enjoy.
~
Eddie walks into Family Video and immediately Steve smiles. He can't help but smile back. He comes up to the counter where Steve is filing returns.
"Hey there, big boy," Eddie teases, "did you know you smile every time I come in?"
Steve blushes and ducks his head, shaking. "I didn't."
"Sure do."
Steve chews on the bottom of his lip. "Do you want me to stop?"
"Nah..." Eddie says brightly. "It's a nice change of pace from what the rest of the town does."
Steve smiles even brighter. "Then I'll make sure to smile even more now when I see."
"You do that," Eddie says deeply serious and fond.
Steve busies himself with work while Eddie walks the aisles making commentary to see how long it takes for Steve to laugh. It never takes long, so tries to see how many times he can make him laugh instead.
Total? About seven before he accidentally makes a rude comment with some old bitch right around the corner and has to stop. Steve admonishes him in the moment but after she's gone, tells him he thought it was funny, too.
~
The warm smiles Eddie gets from Steve are enough to power him through even the worst days. It's like drinking a cup of hot chocolate all at once on a cold winter's day.
It's on a warm June day when everyone is over at Steve's for a party when the edge of the knife they've been balancing on finally tips over. Eddie works late so he arrives most of the way into dinner which was hot dogs and hamburgers grilled up on the back porch next to the pool.
There's this old swinging deck love seat nestled in the woods a little bit a way from the house. It's still on the property and Eddie stops there for a smoke before joining the party.
Wayne spots him. Because of course he does. He comes over and sits next to him on the swing.
"You do know that boy is sweet on you, right?" Wayne says jutting his chin at the man of the hour who is happily chatting with El and Lucas about something.
"Whatever you say, old man," Eddie says shaking his head and then taking another drag of his cigarette. It's not that he doesn't believe him. Not really. He's just too tired to think about it right now.
Wayne chuckles. "I'll show you."
"Show me what?" Eddie asks and then shakes his head again.
Wayne gets up and Eddie can hear the exchange.
"Hey, Steve," Wayne greets.
"Hey, you enjoying yourself?" Steve asks brightly.
"Sure am," he says warmly. "Eddie's here."
Instantly Steve perks up and looks around.
"He's just feeling a bit tired and not ready to join the party yet, if you wanted to say hi." He points the direction of the swing. "He's right there."
Steve looks over at him and smiles. "I know how that goes. Take as much food as you want." He pats Wayne on the arm and heads in toward Eddie.
Eddie can't help but smile at the boy as he comes over to sit down.
"Rough day at work?" Steve asks gently, putting his arm over the back of the swing.
Eddie just shakes his head. "Just long." He looks out at all the people having fun. "So what's the deal with the shindig? It seemed pretty important that everybody be here."
Steve blushes and pulls something out his back pocket and hunches over the piece of paper in his hands.
"What's that then?"
Steve straightens and clears his throat. "Would you help with my speech? I wrote some of it down so didn't forget stuff. Robin says it makes me sound like a dork, but because I am, it works. But I'm still not sure."
Eddie softens. "Sure, Stevie. Wha'cha got?"
"Thank you all for coming to--"
Eddie holds up his hand. "I'm gonna stop you there. This isn't a business meeting or telling people you're dying. Unless you are dying?"
Steve shakes his head and digs out a pen from his front pocket. He scratches out the first line. "I've always been the kind guy to rip off a bandaid instead of little by little, so you're wondering why you weren't told first, the only ones I've told are Robin..." he continues and sticks out his tongue as he writes and talks at the same time, "and Eddie because they help me write it..."
Eddie smiles at him. "I like that. Doesn't hurt anyone's feelings."
Steve looks up at him and gives him the biggest smile yet. Eddie melts a little bit more.
"So the truth is that I'm bisexual," Steve continues looking back down at the page and misses Eddie's stunned reaction. "It doesn't mean I have both male and female parts despite what it sounds like."
Eddie barely manages to stifle his giggle but as Steve grins too, he figures it's a deliberate joke and let's it slide.
"It means I like boys and girls," Steve says after a brief pause and a sigh. "It also doesn't mean that it changes my previous relationships in anyway. I'm not half gay and half straight. And while I recently figured it out, I've been this way for awhile. I didn't know that other people didn't have crushes on both actors and actresses. On pop princesses and rock gods."
"Yeah..." Eddie says drawing out the word, "that should have been a pretty clear indication you liking both, pretty boy."
Steve blushes and clears his throat. "And even though I've never kissed a boy or anything like that, doesn't mean it's only thet--throg--the--"
Eddie looks over his shoulder. "Theoretical," he says sounding it out for him. "It means you don't have the practice so it doesn't count. Or at least it does in this context."
Steve nods. "That's basically the end of it anyway. I just say I'm going to be dating guys and girls now and to not freak out when I do."
Eddie scoots closer to Steve on the swing. "Do you want it to be practical?"
"Huh?" he asks, that slightly vacant expression on his face that he gets when he's really confused.
So Eddie cups his face and kisses his lips gently.
"Oh."
"Would you like to have a boyfriend before going in there and reading your lovely little letter to all your friends?" Eddie breathed, still cupping his cheek.
"Yeah," Steve breathes and they kissing again.
~
Steve's nearing the end of the speech and Eddie is so close to giggling that Robin keeps glaring at him and mouthing the words, "I know what you are, Eddie Munson."
It's not helping keeping the giggles in, if he's honest.
"And I had this big paragraph with a lot of big words about how I never kissed a boy but that it didn't mean I didn't know if I really liked boys or not, but I don't need that anymore."
Max raised her hand. "Before you get all giddy about your boyfriend and steamroll over the bisexuality part, can we talk about that for a minute?"
Steve shoves the paper back in his pocket and says, "Shoot."
"You say it's not 50/50 but what does that mean exactly?" she asks.
"Oh, good question," he says proudly and she blushes. "So for me at least, it's mostly girls with some guys. But it can be anything from that one member of the same sex and then the rest is opposite sex and vice versa. And everything in between."
"How did you know you liked boys?" El asks, tilting her head in that way she does.
"The things I was feeling for girls," Steve explains, "the butterflies around certain boys, the blushing, the wanting to be around them all the time, or in the case of actors wanting to meet them not because I thought they were cool but because I wanted them to sweep me off my feet. Does that help?"
"But both?" Mike asks. "I don't understand. You say it feels the same so how did you not know?"
"Ah."
"Because liking your own gender is scary," Robin says from her perch behind Steve. "And so you might think it's something else. Jealousy, envy, or even just think you want to be them. It's same if you only gay, too."
They all look at her wide-eyed. "Oh, I guess this is my coming out party, too. Hi, I'm gay!"
Steve turns around a gives her a high five.
"If it'll help," Eddie says, "We can do a heads up seven up type deal. Only Steve will see, but if you feel attraction to girls, raise your hand, if you feel attraction to boys raise your hand and he figure what to say easier. Erica you don't have to participate if you don't want to."
She makes a face. "Boys are gross, but in a cootie way."
Steve nods.
"I'd feel more comfortable if it wasn't just Steve," Nancy says, arms folded across her chest.
"Robin or Eddie?" Steve asks, "because everyone knows what they are and won't judge."
They vote and it's Eddie, so Robin goes to sit with the rest of them so she take part too.
"Girls," Steve calls out and gets a head count. Five. And the ones he expected on that one.
"Boys," he calls out next. There are four, just not the four he was expecting. The surprise squirms a little as if they can feel Steve's gaze.
And one exception.
"Huh," he says. "That was certainly interesting. There is one who answered both and another that answered neither."
Dustin wrinkles his nose. "How can you not like either boys or girls?"
Joyce actually raised her hand. "I can answer that, I know I wasn't supposed to peek, but I kinda did," she winces bobbing her head back and forth. "Anyway. There are people who no matter who just aren't able to experience attraction that way. They don't what causes it, but they think it might just be like being gay."
"Can they still fall in love?" Will asks shyly. And Steve knows that Will knows who the exception was.
Joyce's expression softens. "Of course they can."
"Liking your own sex," Steve says, "is fine and good. And if you like both, that's fine too. But you get to chose your coming out when and to who. Just like I did. And if you need advice, you come to any of us privately."
Eddie and Steve share a look. They know the three who over the next couple weeks would be coming to Steve for advice. Will. El. Mike.
"So," Steve says clapping his hands together, "if there aren't any other questions. As of..." he looks at his watch, "twenty-seven minutes ago, Eddie and I are dating."
Eddie takes his hand and kisses it as the entire room explodes. Mostly in congratulations but some dismay. Like Mike.
But in the end they are all happy for them. Mike will come around.
He always does.
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biblio-smia · 11 months
Text
part one | part two | part three
mike hasn't been himself in a while.
he's been there, physically, barely. you chalked the first few days of the lack of anything from mike up to his new job working security at the local mall. the new title came with longer hours and a sort of haze over mike, the little energy he already had draining into the negatives. on the occasional night you stayed for dinner, there was a faraway look in his eyes and your words had to leave your mouth three times before mike really heard them.
next came the forgetfulness.
first it was to call you before he went to bed that night. you hung around the landline in your kitchen for hours before you slipped into unconsciousness in your dining room chair.
you didn't bring it up.
then came the second saturday since mike had started working as a security guard, the day you and mike would usually have a night in with dinner and drinks.
you'd kissed abby goodnight and shut her door quietly, almost spinning into mike as he came up behind you.
"i'm so sorry, i'm really, really, tired," mike sighed, his arms wrapping around you as his chin sank on your shoulder. your hands immediately set to soothe his muscles, hoping he'd get better sleep tonight.
"it's okay," you assure, pressing an understanding kiss to mike's cheek. "do you need me to tuck you in, too?"
mike laughs, an arm wrapped around you as he walks you out. you find comfort in the fact that he doesn't really want to let go, pulling you in for another warm hug and smothering you with quick kisses. quiet laughter fills the air and mike holds onto your hand until you're too far to touch, not retreating inside the door frame until your car has turned the corner of his neighborhood and disappeared.
so, even though you haven't had a proper conversation with mike in more than a few days, you don't bring it up.
mike forgets to make dinner again. last time he'd been lucky, a few stray vegetables coming together to save his ass with soup; it looks intentional enough for abby despite her usual groaning.
this time, not so much.
you’re up extra early to help take abby to school. at least, that’s what you say you’re there for, though really your mission is to make sure mike leaves with his uniform on his back the correct way. everyone is running late as mike flips over a pancake to reveal a blackened outside with a still-raw inside.
“ohhhkay,” you say, taking the spatula from mike and gently pushing him towards the door. you turn off the stove and throw the failed breakfast attempt out, checking the fridge only to find it almost completely barren.
looks like mike hasn’t even had time for groceries. you shouldn’t feel bad that he hasn’t had time for you.
you feel mike’s frustration grow as he can’t find his keys, abby’s impatient pointing to the time adding to his stress.
“hey.” your voice is grounding as you pull mike in by his slightly-wrinkled white collar, undoing a button in the wrong hole and smoothening out his shirt. “did you check your pockets?”
mike did not.
his hand digs into yesterday’s jeans and his fingers closed around the cold metal of his keys. there’s a smile on your lips as you pull mike in for an intoxicating kiss (mike doesn’t even hear abby gag).
“thank you,” mike whispers, one hand gratefully on your elbow.
“don’t forget to eat something, please.”
mike nods, kissing your cheek once before bolting out the door. if he drives fast, he might still make it on time.
you turn to abby with a smile, grabbing her backpack and her tiny hand.
“how about we pick something up for breakfast?”
abby cheers, no longer aware of how much silent reading time she’d missed.
when you pick abby up there’s a frown on her face and you feel bad for dragging her to the grocery store. abby doesn’t complain because she hates upsetting you, a nervous desire to be a “good kid” in front of you still standing strong. though her eyes light up when you place a candy bar in with the rest of your items at the very end, knowing it was for her by the way you smiled.
“don’t tell your brother.”
abby shakes her head and holds your hand tighter, grinning. mike always said you spoiled her, but you felt like going on a little bit of a rebellious streak.
abby helps you put away groceries (as best she can with her thin arms and small stature) and you let her pick tonight’s menu. to no one’s surprise, she chooses spaghetti and meatballs. you’d anticipated this dish being a popular one, pulling out the ingredients immediately.
abby draws while you cook, though mike’s kitchen was different from yours and you’d somehow burnt the sauce. really, all you had to do was heat it up.
you supposed you’d gotten lost in your head (now you could understand where mike was most of the time). but then abby’s face scrunched and her voice cut through.
“is something burning?”
you bite back a curse (not in front of abby!) and taste the sauce to see if it was worth salvaging (it wasn’t). you tossed the few cents’ worth and tried to scrape off the black stuff it left behind. you gave up and pulled out a new pan, making one of the easiest meals known to man without fault this time.
abby’s in bed. not even a sugary high could compete with a full belly and warm coaxing from you (though you’re glad mike’s running late, missing how much longer it takes you to lure abby to sleep).
keys jingle on the other side of the front door and you know staying was the right decision when you sigh at the sound. your shoulders are hunched as you sit at the dinner table, plate of spaghetti only half-touched.
the front door creaks open and you don’t rise to greet mike with a kiss as you usually would. mike barely notices, busy sniffing the air and trying to identify the hint of something awful. he locks the door behind him, kicks off his shoes, remembers to hang his keys. the place looks tidier than he left it.
he’s quiet, wondering if abby left the kitchen light on when his socked feet lead him in front of you.
your chin rests in your hands as you look up at him, slowly. there’s a tired, forced smile on your face and mike suddenly remembers dinner.
he opens the fridge and is convinced he’s traveled back to a week and a half ago with the state it’s in. mike glances at the stove and identifies the main smell that had hit him upon arrival.
“you..?” mike can’t finish, pointing instead to the fridge and the pot of pasta.
you nod, your eyes never leaving him despite your head not really moving. you’re different tonight.
“you didn’t have to.” mike is tiptoeing the line between grateful and annoyed. he’s an adult and these are his responsibilities. but really, what would he had done without you?
“yeah,” you reply and mike is worried you’re going to break up with him. his heart quickens his pace and he’s suddenly nervous. “are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”
“what?” that wasn’t what mike was expecting. “nothing’s wrong,” he shrugs, shields coming up immediately.
“really?” you’re hoping he’ll just spit it out so you don’t have to ask again. but you underestimate how stubborn mike is. “because this is the first actual conversation we’ve had in, like, a week.” it’s been longer than that, but your head is starting to spin.
“i’m just… tired.” mike shrugs again, turning towards the cabinets to pull out a bowl, immediately guilty as he gets ready to eat the food you had to make.
your expression is unrelenting as mike glances over, his eyes darting back to his plate to avoid yours.
mike is startled by how quietly you creep beside him, hands pulling the pot and the pincers closer.
“i’ve got it,” mike insists as you begin reaching for his bowl (because, even now, you still care). “i said, i’ve got it.”
ceramic smashes against tile. the both of you are forced to freeze now, the threat of stabbed feet keeping either of you from walking away.
“mike, if i’m too much for you right now, you have to communicate-”
maybe that’s it.
“you are being too much,” mike blurts out heatedly, his honesty evidently shocking you. “i’m not a kid. you don’t have to take care of me.”
you need a second to recover. to let mike’s words sink in.
“i don’t mind it, mike, i really don’t. if you need me to pick abby up, fine. watch her? i’ve got it. if you need me to take care of dinner, i’d be happy to. i’ll do it all without you even having to ask, because that’s how i love you.”
mike is twelve years old again, feeling himself shut down completely, watching as his mother pleads for him to speak to her. she gives up eventually.
“it doesn’t even feel like we’re in a relationship anymore, michael. and if you need a break, that’s fine, i just want you to talk to me.” the pressure in your chest is lifted with the relief of saying what you’ve been meaning to but is immediately restored (and heavier, if possible) by mike’s silence
it had only taken a few more years for michael’s home to be completely broken, shattered into tiny pieces like the ceramic bowl on the ground.
michael is difficult. he knows this.
it has been floating in his head for years but it is hammered in now: michael schmidt is hard to love.
mike is silent now, watching your lips move but not quite grasping any sound coming out of them; not quite there, lost somewhere else like he has been for weeks.
at last he has the sense to do something.
he walks carefully through the remnants of the bowl on the floor, finding the broom in a different place than he’d left it and returning to the kitchen.
you’re gone and mike’s head snaps to the sound of the doorknob.
“i’m not gonna wait around forever.” you say before you slip out into the dark of the night.
mike sees your headlights faintly through the curtain before they disappear down the street.
mike begins mindlessly sweeping up what’s left of the bowl, left alone with no one but himself to blame.
he has been abandoned, once again, but can he really call it abandonment when he pushed you away first?
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requests for mike schmidt are open!
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