#AND THEN THEY TURNED THE DIAL UP SO HARD IT BROKE OFF

[insinirate]

KV as it's portrayed in Stampede is like modern day classic yaoi, it's like Muraki/Tsuzuki from Yami no Matsuei, it's all the fucked up rapist seme/cute uke tropes of yesteryear and I love studio Orange for doing this

we are, as they say, so fucking back

[nana-gumi]

I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR ANGST SM, WELL WRITTEN ISTG!! as one of my favorite angst writer, i had this idea in my mind for a long time. imagine you found out that you're 12 weeks pregnant and you were too excited to surprise satoru about it but when he came home, he broke the news that he got his ex pregnant. he was cheating and the surprise slipped out of your mind and you got angry at him and led into an argument... YOU CAN CONTINUE IF YOU WANT. I REALLY WANT TO SEE HOW OR WHAT ENDING YOU'LL WRITE. and also, make it a very very angst 😋

anyway, don't be a stranger g.satoru

pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader

cw: heavy angst, infidelity, pregnancy, illness, mentions of death, cremation, as usual not proofread hehe

a/n: YOU ASKED FOR THIS OKAY?? anyways, happy reading :p

next

it was positive.

the moment you saw two red lines from the pregnancy test you bought, you didn't know what to feel at first, you were in disbelief so you tried it for the second, and third time, but the results did not change at all so you took this as a cue to visit a doctor, and there was no doubt in it, it was revealed that you were 12 weeks pregnant.

how should you tell your husband? satoru was barely home from his work after all. you knew how hard it is to be a new company's head so you understand him.

and so you dialed satoru's number as you nervously bit your bottom lip. he answered at the fifth ring.

"hello?"

"satoru–" you paused, and a small smile made its way on your lips. "can you come home, tonight? are you busy?"

"uh, not really." he sounded unsure but you didn't even noticed it on how excited you were.

"can you come home tonight, please?" you repeated.

"alright." he said as you heard him sigh from the other line "i– wanted to tell you something." he said and satoru's tone was unrecognizable, it was like his voice was slightly shaking.

"okay?" you worriedly said. "see you later, satoru. i love youuu."

"mhm, i love you too."

-

if someone would see you right now, they would, in an instant, notice that you were celebrating something special. you sure were prepared for satoru's return, you even wore nice dress and a cardigan as you await for his arrival.

and here he comes.

satoru enters the door and saw you approaching him.

"welcome home." you said as you leaned your face his chest followed by a kiss on his cheek. it was unusual on how he didn't return your advances as he walked past you.

his gloomy approach was affecting you as you placed a concerning hand on his shoulder, the surprise you prepared for him suddenly slipping out of your mind.

"what's wrong, honey?" you asked as you felt him tense up.

"you know i love you, right?" he said, and you thought you've read those words from a book before. you just hoped that the words he would say next wouldn't hurt you as much as the words on the book did.

you hummed in response as satoru turned to face you.

"i'm really sorry, my love. please forgive me."

"satoru, what's wrong? why are you– i'm scared." you said as satoru face palmed, his own body giving up as he was forced to sit down on the couch as he opened his mouth to speak and..

what was he saying? you sure you've heard it but, it sounds muffled when it entered your ears.

"i'm so sorry." he said as he stood up, embracing you as tight as he could so you wouldn't have a chance to step away from him.

"how long?" you muttered and satoru wasn't familiar with the tone of your voice. he didn't respond and it made your blood boil as you pushed him. "i asked how long!" you yelled.

"4 months."

"4 months?! 4 fucking months and you're just informing me about it right now? is that why you're not always home?!" you were screaming at this point and satoru tried to reach for your hand but you were quick to draw back.

"i already cut off ties with her! please believe me."

"satoru, you got someone pregnant! do you want the child to grow up without a father?" you exclaimed as you released a heavy sigh.

"it was just a mistake, we were drunk." satoru said as he embraced you.

-

"are you sure you'd let me attend the reunion?"

"yup, why? don't you want to?" you said as you fixed his tie.

"my ex is going to be there, though." he said and out of all the reactions he could get from you, he didn't expect you to smile at him as you pinch his nose.

"i trust you, satoru. i already did the moment we exchanged vows."

-

satoru was sure that the trust you had for him was already gone by now.

"take responsibility, satoru." you said as you push him by his chest.

"i love you so so so much, (name). please, i can't live without you."

"satoru, you can't just have me around while raising a child with another woman! what would people say?"

"like i told you, i already cut off ties with her."

"i know how it feels to grow up without a father, satoru." you mumbled as you look down on the ground. "it'll be fine. i'll manage, somehow."

"no–"

"why are you being stubborn!"

"you're being selfish!" he exclaimed as you gasp in surprise. selfish? you? how could he say that.

"you'll thank me someday, satoru." you mumbled.

"(name), please.."

"satoru. understand the situation." you weren't screaming anymore and.. why was he crying?

satoru took your hand on his as he placed it on his cheek and leaned on it, his tears stopping on your fingers and, you couldn't help but tear up as well.

"it'll be fine." you mumbled, voice breaking as you closed your eyes.

"i swear with all of my heart, that i love love love you. i'm sorry, forgive me. i didn't have enough courage to tell you sooner, because i was scared that it'll end up, like how it is now."

"it'll eventually come, you can't hide it from me forever, y'know." the storm was starting to calm as both of you spoke with hushed tones. "now go."

"let's talk about this one more time, please?" he mumbled as you slowly removed his hand on yours.

"then tell me, 'toru. what's there left for us to talk about?" you asked and satoru was, unfortunately quiet. "there's nothing, right?"

"love, please. i'm so sorry."

"what's done is done, satoru. we couldn't possibly go back in time and fix everything, right?"

"please." he whispered, hoping for something that he, himself doesn't even know what.

"i won't hate you for this, satoru. it's just– i hope you told me sooner."

"i'm so sorry. i'm grateful to have you as my wife, i'm sorry if i couldn't treat you like how you deserve it."

he really didn't deserve you. you were so understanding that satoru couldn't even look at you in the eyes.

"i'll say it as many times as i could. i love you. i didn't regret marrying you." he said as he cupped your tear stained cheeks and leaned his forehead on yours. "i don't really deserve you." satoru leaned in, kissing you and kissed back because both of you knew that, it was for the last time.

satoru left your apartment after settling things out. you fell on the couch as you felt something on the pocket of your cardigan.

"fuck." you muttered as you laughed bitterly, clutching the results in your hand, placing it close to your chest. you forgot the surprise and now that satoru have made up his mind, you knew there was no point on telling him anymore. grow up without a father, huh? now you're the one to talk.

a week has passed.

"hey." he acknowledged as he sat beside you inside the court.

"hey." you responded as you fiddle with your fingers. a gesture satoru noticed when you're uncomfortable. were you uncomfortable around him?

"how have you been?"

"i don't know." you said as satoru went silent.

"are you okay? let's stop this divorce if you–?"

"no, i just don't feel well."

"you can still change minds, y'know." satoru mumbled, anxiously tapping his feet on the floor.

should you tell him? it was a chance, the only chance left before you and satoru have to separate ways. but as you recalled it, he mentioned that his supposed to be ex was 4 months pregnant and you were just on you were just on 12 weeks, equivalent to more or less than 2 months. it was her advantage.

"it'll be fine." you said as you sighed.

"you always say that."

-

"so, this is it?" you said as you stand across each other and satoru looked to his side and he was caught off guard when he felt you hold his hand, he took note of your cold hands.

you placed the wedding ring on his palms as you forced to close it.

"no." he said as he placed it back on you after removing his own ring. "i want you to keep it. for us." he said.

"okay." you said, turning around as you placed his ring and yours inside your bag.

"(name)." he called as you looked back. "i'm sorry i broke my promise, to have a happy family with you." he said and you wanted to tear up but you reminded yourself that it's not the right time to as you smiled at him.

"find me in another life then we can have a happy family there." you joked as both of you laughed.

is it normal to be like this with each other as if satoru hadn't just got his ex pregnant? as if both of you just haven't came out of the court after signing the divorce papers?

"i'll come and visit when i can." he said, and you hoped he would keep his words this time.

"okay."

"for the last time. i love you." you do too, but this time, you didn't say it back anymore.

"don't you think sanyu is a good name for our child?" satoru said as you look up at him.

"do you want to have one?"

"i'd love to have a happy family with you."

"is that so? but why sanyu?"

"sanyu means happiness. it means we are happy that we have him." he said as you chuckled in response.

"and how are you so sure that it would be a boy?"

"instincts."

-

his instincts was right. you had a son with him and you named him sanyu.

unfortunately, when sanyu turned a year of age, it was found that he had a very weak heart. there wasn't a day where you and your son doesn't visit a hospital. he was just a kid but they already wanted to take him away from you.

"mama." sanyu called. there were a lot of tubes that was connecting his body and it hurts to see your son suffer like this. you always hoped that it was you suffering instead of sanyu.

"yes?" you responded as you sat on the nearby chair.

"papa? where?" he curiously asked and your heart couldn't hurt more. you were lying to your child all this time, that his father was not around because of his job. you'll have to explain it to him when he grows up though.

you held sanyu's hand on yours as you softly caress it.

"papa's not here. he's very very busy!" you said as sanyu frowned. "don't worry, papa will see you soon, okay?"

"okay. love love mama, papa."

-

you bit your bottom lip as you stared at your contacts. your eyes switching from the phone to the surroundings as you slowly became anxious.

his contact was still in your emergency. you took a deep breath but in the end, you just couldn't dial his number, proceeding to call the person below his contact as you place the speaker close to your ear.

"hello?" you said as you heard a small gasp from the other side of the phone.

"hey, how are you? we haven't seen you since."

"i'm doing fine, thank you for asking, geto."

"what's the matter? why'd you call all of the sudden?"

"satoru." you said as you paused, gathering some courage left in you. "um, how is he?"

"well– he's doing good."

"he is, huh?" you mumbled. "can i ask you a favor, please?"

"of course. is it about satoru?"

"kind of?"

"alright, but satoru's a very busy man now, that's why it's gonna be hard to contact him these days."

oh.

"don't worry, it's not about that. can you– can you come here at the hospital? i'll send you the address and explain it to you later."

-

suguru arrived earlier than you expected it to.

"i'm sorry for calling out of the blue." you said as you approached him on the front desk.

"it's fine." suguru said as he shrugged. "why here at the hospital? are you sick?"

"i'm not. come, follow me." you said and suguru silently obliged as you finally stopped at a certain door. suguru noticed your discomfort as you slowly opened the door.

"mama!"

"hi baby. i brought someone." you said as you approached your son.

"what?" suguru mumbled in disbelief and he was left frozen on the door, his eyes widening. it was like a child version of satoru was infront of him.

"papa?" sanyu asked as he tilted his head to the side.

"i'm sorry, sanyu. i can only bring papa's friend." you said, your heart aching as your son frowned.

"sanyu?" suguru asked as he approached the two of you.

"i'm sanyu!" your son exclaimed and once again, suguru could only sigh in disbelief.

-

"how old is sanyu?" suguru asked when both of you left the room to grab a drink outside.

"he's 4 years old."

"does satoru know?"

"no."

"then tell him." easier said than done.

"you know i can't." you mumbled. "the favor–" you said as you faced suguru. "can you tell sanyu about his father? i just couldn't.." you mumbled as you played the can of the drink with your thumb.

"alright." suguru said and you smiled at him in return.

"thank you so much. it's just.. the doctors said he doesn't have enough time to–" you paused as you wiped your tears with your sleeves. "sorry for asking you this, geto. you are the closest to satoru, that's why."

"i understand, don't worry about it too much."

"i just couldn't tell satoru. i want sanyu to know what he wants to know. i couldn't tell him because i'm scared that i'll tear up once i mention his father to him. they said sanyu's running out of time.. i don't know– i'll just have to accept it nonetheless." suguru looked at you in pity as he embraced you.

"don't think about it, okay? sanyu will live and so satoru will know about it. i'll help you with it, 'kay?"

"okay, thank you.."

-

"you look like your papa."

"really?!" sanyu exclaimed happily as suguru hummed in response. "mama said papa is busy.."

"it's true, that's why i am here to tell you about your papa." sanyu looked at suguru hesitantly as he proceeded to ask a question.

"hmm.. is my papa good?" sanyu asked as suguru looked at you.

"he is. and he loves your mama so much."

"then why is he always busy?"

"sanyu." you called him, indicating to not ask those type of questions as he frowned.

and so sanyu asked a lot of things about his papa like what's his favorite color, favorite food, what he hates the most and many more, and you were thankful that suguru was there to answer it all when you couldn't.

-

"thank you, geto. i somehow feel at ease now."

"why don't you tell satoru about this?" suguru said as you started to zone out. should you? or should you not?

part of you believes that satoru has the right to know but part of you doubts it. satoru have a family now, a family without you. how would people think if they found out the owner of the famous company has a son from another woman?

you were once married to satoru, it was a mistake to let him take responsibility of his ex' pregnancy but, she was already at her 4 months of pregnancy while you're on your 12 weeks, she's clearly at the advantage.

"i'll try." you said as you embraced yourself for warmth.

"he's free around this time every thursdays." suguru said and you only nodded at his words.

satoru was on his way to his office and he thought he caught a glimpse of you and, he wasn't wrong, it was really you.

"(name)?" you were startled at the voice as you placed your phone behind you.

"gojo–"

"i hate it when you call me that. call me satoru." he said, frowning at you as you laughed nervously. "you look tired. what's–"

get straight to the point.

"are you busy?" you asked, cutting him off.

"well.." he placed his palm on his nape as he looked behind your shoulders.

"dad!" a voice called as a kid you haven't saw in your life appeared beside him. "what's taking you so long? mom's waiting."

"i'm sorry (name)."

"no, it's fine." you said, smiling at him and satoru knew better than anyone that your smile was forced.

"who's she, dad?" the kid asked. this must be satoru's child.

"an old friend, sanyu." satoru said as he looked at you and he wonders what made you look surprised. "go ahead first, i'll follow after you." he said as his son started to walk away.

"sanyu, huh?" you said as you looked behind his son's retreating figure.

"yeah. sorry about that." satoru said.

"why?"

"i don't know. but it was supposed to be our son's name."

"that's all in the past now." you didn't mean to sound harsh but something just hurts.

"right."

"i'll take my leave then." you said, every step you take makes your heart ache as an apology for you son slipped out of your mind.

"(name)." he called once again as you stopped in your tracks but you didn't face him.

"you were right when you said i'll thank you someday." he mumbled and you knew very well that he was smiling as you gulped the lump in your throat. "so thank you. i am the happiest father, ever. even if–" he paused and you didn't respond. it was like he was rubbing a salt in your wound as you heard him sigh. "see you then." he said as you felt his hand on your shoulder for a moment before his footsteps disappeared, and then you took your leave after, going back to your son, who was waiting for your arrival.

but, why was this happening to you? of all people?

"hold onto mama's hand, mhm?"

"mama, sorry."

"mama's sorry too, i promised that you'll see papa but–" sanyu shake his head, something like disagreeing to your apologies.

"it's okay, mama." sanyu mumbled, the sound of the monitor beeping slowing down as you hold onto his hand tight. this happened before already, he will get back to normal soon, you were sure.

"mama loves sanyu, papa too. always remember that, okay?"

-

"hey (name)!" suguru called from the distance as he approached you. "what are you doing outside? oh by the way, i was wondering if i can bring shoko too? she would be delighted to see a carbon copy of satoru." suguru chuckled but he noticed that you were quiet, your hand was between your thighs as you stare at the ground.

the door opening caught your attention as the doctor came out after what it seemed like a year as he slowly shake his head left to right.

"i'm sorry ms. (name) but your son didn't make it."

"but you said he'll be fine! i am paying enough why couldn't you–!"

"i'm very sorry. we already did what we can." you were about to start an argument when you felt a hand on your shoulders and the doctor bowed at you before leaving.

and it all came crashing down as your body lost its strength, unintentionally leaning on someone, which was suguru.

"what am i supposed to do now?" you asked, the emotions you've been keeping all this time was starting to go out, all at once. "sanyu's all i have." you didn't even care if people watch as they walk pass by. "what should i do now, satoru?" you mumbled, voice breaking as you call the name of the person that wasn't even around.

-

"my condolences, (name)." suguru had managed to calm you down as he handed you a bottled water and sat beside you.

"i've decided to cremate sanyu. it hurts but it'll be for the best so.. so i could keep him near me." you said.

"i'll support your decision but i think you should tell satoru about it."

"no." you said, your tone was strict but it was quick to dissipate as you clutched the bottle in your hand. "i went to his workplace yesterday."

"what happened?" suguru asked.

"his son's name is sanyu too. i'm guessing you know it?" you asked as his breath hitched silenty.

"yeah." he mumbled.

"well, it was the name he wanted when we were still planning." you mumbled as you smiled at the memory. "geto, i trust you not to tell anyone about this. it's just you and me who know this, okay?"

"i'm sorry but–" suguru paused. "i told shoko about it." you were surprised at first as you sighed at him.

"it's fine. i trust shoko too."

"yeah, sorry about that but– i was really hoping that you tell satoru about it because–"

"there's no need. thank you for telling my child everything he wanted to know, geto. i owe you."

"listen–"

"geto, as much as i am thankful for you, please understand that i don't want to hear things regarding satoru anymore." you said as suguru nods in response, feeling bad for pushing you when your still mourning for your lost and now that you had lost your only strength to continue living, what should you do now?

[ellebakers]

☆ Jealous boy | Part one (+18)

Ethan Landry x reader

PART TWO

Summary : if he can’t have you, no one else can, especially not chad.

Warnings : violence + mention of death + blood + mention of sex + voyeurism + y/n x chad + cheating.

Ethan had never wanted to kill chad so much as he did now. that asshole was in the next room fucking you. and you moaned louder and louder, but could he blame you ? no never. after all, you thought ethan was in class. and hearing you moan was the most melodious sound he'd ever heard. but it had to be him who had to make you scream. you should call out his name, not his roommate's.

after the woodsboro murders, you and chad got closer, after a while you became a couple, and since then, you have been living bliss.

"shit. chad i'm gonna cum."

"come on baby. cum for me."

ethan rolled his eyes. "baby" that guy didn't deserve to call you that, he's not good enough for you.

when ethan and chad became roommates, the meeks-martin’s son introduced you to each other. that day, ethan will remember it for the rest of his life, you wore a flowered dress that came above your knee, your hair fell in a cascade and you had blocked a pair of sunglasses in it. the brunette thought he was dead and in heaven you looked like an angel.

after that, the more the days passed and the more he fell in love with you. you were so nice to him, always a smile, always a kind word for him. for a while he thought he had a chance with you, until the day he saw chad kissing you. it was when he saw this that he went to his father's house and said "I want to do this, I want to avenge richie." his brother's revenge was just a pretext, he knew it himself, all he wanted was to watch that asshole chad bleed out. after that he could come and comfort you with his words and with his dick. you will be his forever.

one last moan louder than the others and he knew you had come. he never touched you, but he knew when you were done and when you were faking it. more than once he had heard you pretend. like when chad wanted to do it and you didn't dare say no to him, so you faked it to please him. but after chad left to take a shower, you finished the job yourself. ethan had heard you moan silently, and just imagining you touching yourself had made him hard.

that night, he had closed his eyes and then he had let his fantasies take over by jerking off. thinking of you.

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

that's it. ghostface was back. your nightmare was beginning again. you had just gotten off work and were walking towards your car when samantha called you with the news. after hanging up with her, you got in and turned the key to start, but it seems that your car doesn't want to run.

you groaned and threw your head back against the headrest. you picked up your phone and dialed your boyfriend's number. it rang but no one picked up. you then looked in your contact list and called ethan.

on the first ring, he picked up.

"hi y/n."

you smiled without realizing it. you didn't want to admit it but his voice brought you comfort.

"hi ethan, i'm sorry to bother you, but my car broke down. i tried to call chad but he's not answering. i was wondering if you could pick me up."

"yes of course, are you at work ?" he asked you

"I'm in the parking lot in front of the building yes."

"I'm coming."

"thank you ethan."

"no need to thank me. wait for me in your car."

"ok."

he hung up and you put your phone on the passenger seat. it was about ten minutes by car from chad and ethan's apartment, you just had to wait ten short minutes, you'll be fine.

time passed and you started freaking out. at each outside noise you jumped. you took deep breaths but nothing helped your state. suddenly, a ding indicated a new message.

you took your phone and an unknown number appeared, followed by a photo and a message. "

Looks like chad has other things to do.

you pressed on the photo to enlarge it, but you quickly regretted your decision. chad, your chad was shirtless, his head between Tara's legs, on your bed in the Carpenter sisters' apartment.

you put down your phone and started crying. you had been stabbed a year ago, but it hurt even more.

again your phone rang, but to indicate an incoming call from an unknown number, without the slightest hesitation you picked it up.

you swallowed your saliva so as not to burst into tears.

"it's you, isn't it ?"

the deep voice that had traumatized you was heard.

"yes."

"If you want to kill me, then go ahead, I'll let it go. I'm sick of all this."

"you've had enough of what y/n ?"

you closed your eyes and let the tears flow. "amber and richie killed me a year ago, ever since i've been wandering around like a fucking ghost so i'm the one asking you. kill me."

there was a long silence, as if the person on the other side of the phone was thinking. "no. I'm not going to kill you. you're going to live, and live for yourself, not for those assholes you call your friends who don't deserve you, and especially not for that son of a bitch boyfriend."

then he hung up. It was the most honest exchange you've had in a year with anyone.

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

that evening, ethan arrived, seeing your face streaming with tears, he asked you what was going on so you told him everything. putting aside your discussion with ghostface.

you were sitting in ethan's car when he asked you

"where are you going to sleep ?"

you hadn't thought about it, but now that he brought it up, you had nowhere to go. you couldn't come home and act like nothing was with tara. and you couldn't sleep at ethan's since his roommate was your boyfriend who cheated on you.

"I have no idea." You think for a while then an idea comes to you "Can you drop me off at the hotel ? I think it'll be fine."

The car came to a red light and he turned to you.

"Okay, but I stay with you."

You shook your head, smiling slightly "Ethan you don't have to, you should-"

He cut you off by raising his hand "Ghostface is outside and there's no way I'm leaving you alone."

you were silent and then nodded. Ethan, happy that his plan was working, drove off again when the light turned green.

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

obviously the only hotel available only had one bed in the room, but that was better than nothing so you convinced ethan to share the bed.

you growled "I'm dying to take a shower, but I don't have clean clothes."

ethan took off his t-shirt and handed it to you. you couldn't help staring at his sculpted body. he hid a lot of things under his shy boyish air.

"here, take this." he brought you back to reality and you shook your head slightly to scare away the dirty ideas that were merging in your head. you thanked him and left for the bathroom. you undressed and put your laundry in your work bag. the hot water that attacked your skin relieved you, you passed the shower head of your whole body, having fun adjusting the water pressure, then your mind thought of ethan and his body of gods. you should have thought about your conversation with ghostface or chad and tara who were probably still having sex in your bed, but ethan was invading your thoughts and without realizing it you put the water pressure to maximum and slipped it between your legs. the feeling was so good that you let out a moan, you continued to pass the shower head between your legs and instinctively you pressed it against your core and rubbed yourself up and down against it, you closed your eyes, feeling the orgasm coming , you were on the verge of cumming when Ethan knocked on the door.

"um, yes, I'm done, I'm coming."

great, another ruined orgasm.

you rinsed off and got out of the shower. once dry and dressed you went back to the room where ethan was sitting on the edge of the bed. you approached him and you share an embarrassed smile, you sat next to him and let the silence settle between you two.

he cleared his throat "um, i'm so sorry about chad. i didn't believe him like that."

you exhaled loudly "me neither."

he half turned to you "but I'm pretty happy it's over between you guys."

you frown "what ?"

"he doesn't deserve you. honestly you're the nicest, smartest, prettiest girl I know. you deserve someone who treats you right, someone like." then he stopped realizing that you were watching him.

you put a hand on his thigh "go ahead, continue ethan."

the position of your hand on his thigh distracted him but he tried not to show anything. "someone like me." he whispered.

and that's all you needed, you took his face in your hands and kissed him, his hands come to rest on your hips automatically. he pulled you on him, you put your legs on each side of him and you sat on him, something hard was felt against your pussy completely naked since your underwear was in your bag, you continued to embrace. he passed his tongue against your lips as if to ask permission so you opened your mouth and he inserted his tongue inside in order to dance with yours.

his cock was getting harder and harder so you decided to test his urge and you rubbed against him, making you moan against him, he pushed himself off you and threw his head back while growling. "you're going to kill me y/n." you took advantage of this opportunity to suck and lightly bite his neck, which made him moan. hearing it sent an electric charge through you. chad wasn't vocal during the act, and that disappointed you a bit, so hearing ethan the being made you wet. "I rather hope that it is not you who will kill me after having fucked me." you tell him about the joke but his gaze darkens, he takes your face in his hands. "I will never let anyone hurt you, you and me are forever." you were going to answer but he passed his hand between your legs and started to play with your clitoris, the sensation made you moan loudly, you closed your eyes and put your head on his shoulder.

his breathing was getting faster and faster as he inserted one and then two fingers inside you. "You're so fucking wet. All this just for me ?"

you nodded against him but your answer did not suit him, with his other hand he slightly pulled your hair back to make you look at him. you never thought he could be so dominating, but you loved it.

"Are you wet for me ?"

"Yes Ethan."

He looked at your lips smiling "Perfect."

suddenly he withdrew his fingers and swapped positions pinning you to the mattress. he took both of your hands and brought them above your head.

"don’t move."

he got up slightly and took off his belt, which he wrapped around your wrists and squeezed tightly to tie them. you stared at him, surprised, like the shy ethan you knew was gone. he got up, while looking at you he knelt at the end of the bed, then he spread your thighs with both hands, he took one and put it on his shoulder, you gasped when his tongue came into contact with your pussy, you started to move your pelvis for a little more friction but he put a firm hand on your belly, preventing you from moving as he continued his attacks chaining: sucking and licking. you wanted to touch him but your bound hands prevented you, you writhed in pleasure and moaned louder and louder as he devoured you until your orgasm invaded you.

You were trying to catch your breath when he got up, you didn't see him but while he was devouring you, he opened his fly and lowered his pants and his boxers and he started jerking off, you were watching his cock hard and biting your lip "let me help you with that ethan." he chuckled lightly shaking his head "I want it inside you sweetie."

you smiled at him and spread your legs "so what are you waiting for"

he didn't wait any longer to sink into you, and that night you didn't sleep much, ethan took you, your back to the mattress, your legs around your waist. then from behind, a handful of your hair in your hands, or even sitting on him, her back turned to him. you stopped counting after your fourth orgasm.

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

the next morning you were woken up by your phone vibrating, you opened your eyes, the daylight attacking you then you strove to find your phone, once in hand you picked up.

"Y/n!" Sam was screaming crying

"Sam, what’s going on ?" You got up and looked for ethan's t-shirt which had been taken off when in the middle of the night while in the bathroom he had taken you against the wall.

She continued to cry. "It's Chad and Tara, they're dead."

You froze and dropped your phone when you saw the ghostface costume hanging next to the bathroom mirror.

Ethan came up behind you and hugged you. "Now it's you and me my love."

[moonstruckme]

Hey!! I saw your posts about colour blind!reader and reader with hearing problems and i really love them, I have to wear hearing aids myself so it is really lovely to see some representation!! So I was wondering if you could do remus x reader (or any marauder i don't mind) where the readers hearing aids broke and remus has to help them communicate for the day while they wait to get them fixed? If you aren't comfortable with that don't worry<33

I'm so glad you liked them sweetness, thanks for requesting! Unfortunately I don't have anyone in my life who uses hearing aids that I could consult about this, so I had to rely on the internet and apologize for any inaccuracies <33

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 653 words

“Moony,” James says, cocking his head at you inside Remus’ car. You’re sitting placidly in the passenger seat while the car trembles with bass. “What’s she doing?”

“She likes the vibrations,” Remus replies, carrying a giant tupperware container of chili. Ever since he moved in with Lily, James has taken to “accidentally” making too much of nearly every meal they have so that his friends are forced to come over and take home leftovers. (“I thought the recipe was supposed to be tripled,” James had said over the phone. “You’ve gotta take some off my hands, Moony, it’s gonna go bad.”) 

“She’s gonna be shaking the whole block if she turns that up any louder,” Sirius says, following them out of the house. “How can she stand it?”

“Hearing aids broke yesterday,” Remus explains, opening the passenger door. James flinches at the sound that bursts out, and Remus hands you the chili before reaching around you to turn down the dial on the radio. “We’re waiting for the shop to call so we can pick them up,” he finishes. 

You wave at the boys, and they wave back with smiles somewhat bemused. 

“How bad is her hearing without them?” James asks concernedly. 

You go to respond, having read the question on his lips, but Remus sets a hand on your shoulder. 

Hold on, he signs to you. This will be more fun. 

You roll your eyes, but play along with his game, letting Remus speak for you as if you can’t do it yourself. 

“She can’t hear much of anything,” Remus says. It’s the honest truth, though he neglects to mention that you’re still perfectly capable of speaking and also quite skilled at reading lips even without the aids. “Some loud noises or things with a deep pitch, but not enough to make out speech.” 

“Huh,” James says. “Well, tell her I hope she enjoys the chili.” 

This is great, Remus signs to you. I never get to practice. 

You’re mean, you sign back, even as your lips twitch at the corners.

“She says she’s sure she will,” Remus says. “Thanks for saving us some.” 

James grins. “No problem.” 

“If she really likes vibrations, she should come take a ride on my bike sometime,” Sirius suggests, and he’s smiling, because he knows exactly how Remus will feel about that offer. Remus hates the idea of even Sirius, let alone you, on a motorcycle. “Tell ‘er, Moons.” 

You’re already looking at Remus with a mischievous smile. 

No way, he tells you. Not happening.

Buzzkill, you fingerspell. 

Remus shrugs, and he doesn’t need to sign anything for you to read and what about it? in his expression. 

“Ooh, they’re fighting,” Sirius deduces, laughing darkly. “This sign language stuff isn’t so hard to pick up on, is it Prongs? You can get the general meaning from their faces.” 

Remus plasters on a smile. Not hard? I’ve been learning for two years, he vents to you. 

You give a little laugh. Don’t listen, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. But at least tell him I said thanks for the offer.

Remus turns to Sirius. “She says fuck you.” 

You make a sound of offense, slapping Remus’ arm lightly. 

“Okay, okay,” he relents. “She said thank you for the offer. But no.” 

“It’s crazy,” James says with a little smile. “Everything you’re claiming she says sounds exactly like what you would say if you could choose, Moony.” He glances at you, and you raise your eyebrows like I know, right?

“Alright, we’d better be off,” Remus decides, shutting your door for you and rounding the front of the car. “Thanks for the chili, Prongs. And Pads, your bike is banned to her, so don’t offer again.” 

“Buzzkill,” Sirius calls after him, but Remus pretends not to hear, shutting his door. 

“Hey,” you say, your voice a bit louder than you’d usually allow. You’re grinning at Remus. “That’s exactly what I said!”

[gutsby]

Easy Street

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: You steal a cop car and almost run Daryl over en route to the Sanctuary. You can’t decide if you want to fight him, fuck him, or bring him back to Negan. Lucky for you, Daryl is game for all three.

Warnings: NSFW. Attempted vehicular manslaughter. Enemies to lovers to enemies again. Hatefucking, facefucking, and a fair share of overstimulation. Age gap. Loss of virginity. Dirty talk so foul it may set feminism back several centuries. 7.5k words + this fucking song.

“You are one sick son of a bitch.”

Gripping the steering wheel in one hand and the Collapsable Hearts Club cassette case in the other, you shook your head, disturbed. Even in the sunlight, the miniature music cartridge looked sinister. You flung it to the side.

How Negan could force-feed this shit to his prisoners was beyond you.

You were barely two verses into the song and ready to swerve your Crown Vic into a ditch—it was that bad. In spite of the fiercely upbeat tempo and catchy melody, each spoken word was like nails on a chalkboard. The lyrics almost taunting in how unfit they were for the cacophony of this tune:

We’re on easy street. And it feels so sweet. ‘Cause the world is but a treat—

“—when you’re on easy street,” you finished, reflexively.

Shit. You had to turn this off. You’d drive yourself insane if you listened another minute, you were sure. Your eyes darted to the dashboard and searched for the radio dial in a frantic look. Spotting it almost immediately, you clenched your hand in a fist and struck the button. Hard. Just wanting—needing—the music to stop.

But, to your horror, your careless right hook did just the opposite: instead of shutting off the song, it simply knocked the age-old button off the stereo system. You watched with eyes the size of dinner plates as the metal knob glanced off the gearshift and disappeared into the carpet below, taking with it all your hopes and dreams of escaping this musical torment.

You let loose a string of expletives and scrambled across the seat, almost forgetting you were driving. The tires of the police cruiser you’d hijacked just hours before went veering to the left. You managed to right the car mere seconds before it went flying off the road, but not before you tried retrieving the missing dial.

And we’re breakin’ out the good champagne…

The car swung wide to the side.

We’re sittin’ pretty on the gravy train…

“Where the fuck did it go?!”

And when we sing, every sweet refrain repeats…

“SHUT UP!”

Right here on easy street.

Before you could throw another punch at the dashboard, your whole body lurched forward and your face bashed the center of the steering wheel. Your cop car, freshly dented with the impact of a body you’d just struck, went spinning for a moment before coming to a screeching halt some yards down the road. Fickle bastards that happened to be your airbags didn’t bother to deploy.

You lifted your head from the shattered Ford logo in front of you and groaned.

Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror to see the bruised and bloodied mayhem that had taken the place of your face, you barely flinched. You weren’t sure why, or how, it had happened, but from start to finish you remained fully conscious. And fucking infuriated.

With a strength you hardly thought yourself capable of, you hoisted your body out of the car. Blinked hard against the rays of sunlight now searing your eyes, and made a circuit—half-limped, half-staggered in a zigzag sort of fashion—around the back of the car. You wavered on numb, unsteady feet before reaching clumsily into your back pocket.

A smile that resembled something more of a grimace made its way to your face as your fingers closed around the base of your Browning Hi-Power. Whatever dipshit walker that had crossed paths with your vehicle and caused you to wreck was about to get its head pumped full of lead, if it wasn’t dead already.

But just as you started to turn the corner and raise your gun, a strangled voice broke out:

“Hey, hey, stop! STOP!”

You stalled in your tracks and almost dropped your weapon. Either your vision had gone to shit or your mind was playing tricks, but you could’ve sworn you saw a man waving his arms in a panic. Then he stopped.

You readjusted your grip on your pistol and kept it aimed at his head.

“Who the hell are you?”

The man paused a beat to eye you up and down, incredulous.

“You kiddin’?” he retorted.

When it looked as though he was moving closer to you, you fired a shot over his shoulder. The man jumped like a cat on hot bricks and slapped a hand over his ear, yelling,

“’Fuck was that for?!”

“I said, ‘Who are you?’” Your voice steadied with the recognition of your clear advantage.

The man, on the other hand, looked redder than ever. Though he didn’t budge an inch from his place and kept his hands held up in surrender, you could sense from the look on his face he was seething.

“Daryl,” he spat.

“Daryl who?”

“Daryl the-guy-you-just-hit-with-your-car, asshole.”

This time, you were the one to give him a skeptical once-over. Scanning his body for any signs of harm, only to make out a scrape on his cheek the size of your pinky. You wiped the back of your hand over a nose that was presently spurting blood like the Trevi Fountain and frowned.

“Y’don’t exactly look like roadkill to me,” you said flatly.

For the first time, Daryl’s mouth betrayed a hint of a smirk, and he tipped his chin in the direction behind you.

You turned, following his gaze, and eventually lowered your eyes to a lump in the road down yonder. You squinted.

“Is that a—” you started.

“Deer? Yeah.” Daryl finished.

When you angled back to face him, you saw the sour look had returned.

“Was s’posed’a be my dinner ‘til yer goddamn cop car chewed it up,” he said with a scowl.

So it was the deer he’d been carrying that you’d hit and sent your car to shit, and this man was bitching over a lost meal and a busted cheek? You almost couldn’t believe what you were hearing, your jaw starting to clench at the sight of him.

The man carried on, oblivious, “If ye hadn’t been blastin’ yer music so loud maybe you’d’a seen me standin’ in the road with a fuckin’ carcass on my back.”

“Well I wasn’t—”

“Payin’ attention? I figured,” Daryl bit back before you could finish.

Then, after a beat, “Who are ye anyway?”

This part was bound to be fun. The stranger looking you up and down like you were nuts didn’t have a clue who you were, but you had a feeling he knew a thing or two about your people. The Saviors had a way of making their presence known among neighboring communities. You figured by the looks of this guy, he was just another boneheaded denizen of The Kingdom—or worse yet, Alexandria.

You flashed a smile and supplied, “I’m Negan.”

You’d been a Savior all of three weeks and hadn’t yet made the proclamation to anyone outside your camp before, so this felt like a particularly momentous occasion. You were eager to see how Daryl would respond. If it instilled even a fraction of the fear in him as it did in others—you know, when Negan Negan was swinging his beloved, barbed wire bat and saying those things—you’d be happy. If he showed so much as a morsel of deference to you, this would have all been worth it.

Instead, Daryl laughed.

Not a polite laugh, either. A sidesplitting, wide grinning sort of laugh that sent shockwaves through his body and had him doubling over in hysterics. Your cheeks flushed.

“No shit?” he wheezed, “Negan’s got a—a goddamn Barbie doll doing his bidding now?”

“Fuck you.”

“Sorry, G.I. Jane.”

You’d heard enough of this. Had enough of him. You rubbed your blood-streaked face for the last time and turned on your heels. Stalking off in the other direction, the sounds of his laughter hardly seemed to subside, but it was apparent he wasn’t quite finished.

“I’m sorry,” he called after you, likely biting back a smile, “’m bein’ a prick, I know.”

You kept walking and pretended not to hear when footsteps bounded after you. You weren’t sure where you were going, or how you’d be getting there without a car, but you had a hunch that anywhere without Daryl was a place you’d like to be. When you felt a hand on your shoulder, you shrugged it off and told him to shove it.

“Hey— I’m tryin’ to be nice here,” he protested.

When you turned to tell him it generally wasn’t a nice person’s prerogative to remind others they were nice, you stopped. Glanced down at Daryl’s outstretched arm and saw black fabric in his hand. And, just above it, his bare chest.

He’d torn off his sleeveless shirt and was holding it out to you.

“Here,” he grumbled, “For yer nose.”

You eyed the top with mild distrust and hesitated to take it. Daryl rolled his eyes.

You felt your whole body tense when a hand reached out to grab you. Gruff and graceless as ever, Daryl tugged you closer to him.

“Don’t move.”

You couldn’t help but wince when he dragged the material over your face. Certainly wasn’t gentle with it but seemed to make quick work of the dried blood nonetheless. You watched him closely as he continued to dab the makeshift medicinal rag over your lips and nose, and for a moment, he almost looked serene.

“So you’re part of Negan’s harem, huh?”

And the moment was gone. You glared at Daryl.

“I don’t fuck old guys,” you snorted.

As soon as your words hit the air, you cringed inwardly. Why did you say it like that?

It was true, Negan called you his wife—though you hardly considered him your husband—and the two of you had yet to consummate your marriage. You imagined that day would come eventually, but if you were honest with yourself, you really didn’t want to think what that night might entail. You’d barely made it to second base with your last boyfriend.

Presently, Daryl placed a hand over his heart in mock offense.

“Ouch.”

No doubt the man before you had you beat in years, too. By a landslide. He might’ve been a couple years younger than Negan, but he certainly didn’t look it. Had a hint of a youthful aura, if there was such a thing. An eternally cool fifty-something with the attitude of a man more than two decades his junior. You wondered for one brief, fleeting second if he might have the stamina of one too. You quickly regained your senses and felt the urge to barf in your mouth.

This man could be my father, you thought.

This man could be my “father,” your dirtier subconscious suggested.

“Ew,” you said aloud.

Daryl looked up from his current occupation and raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I just—” You scrambled for a semi-plausible explanation for your outburst, “—just really hate the sight of blood.”

Daryl chuckled.

“Bullshit. I bet you’ve got some freaky kink for it,” he returned teasingly.

You were just then starting to suspect you might have a fetish for something else. You swallowed.

The taut, toned muscles in Daryl’s arms looked impossibly larger now that they were coated in sweat. With every forceful wipe of his hand, you saw some new bead of moisture fall from his skin or else dribble down his front, forming clusters of tiny rivulets that went trickling off his body. Like a tanned, trim stream of water you just wanted to lick—

“Clean!” Daryl announced, taking a step back to admire his work.

You suspected you still looked like shit, but you didn’t really care. You were too busy ogling Daryl’s body with a look of wanton lust to know, or care, or see much else, including the smirk that had begun to creep onto Daryl’s face.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he sneered, chucking his shirt at you.

You barely managed to catch it as you felt a blush rise to your cheeks.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you replied, a little too defensively for your liking.

You swallowed your embarrassment with a scowl and started off in the other direction.

“Where ya headed?” Daryl shouted after you.

“Sanctuary.”

“Can I come?”

“No.”

“Can I please come?”

“Not unless you’re looking to have your head on a pike outside of it.”

Daryl grinned, “The thought might’ve crossed my mind.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Just when you came across a man with all the appearances of a perfectly aged fine wine and a killer body to boot, you find out he’s just as juvenile and dense as the rest of them. He continued to trot alongside you.

“You scared your husband’s gonna give you a whoopin’ or sumn’?” Daryl quipped.

“He’s not my husband,” you lied.

“Oh yeah?” he pressed.

“Yeah.”

“Then prove it.”

You slowed your pace to shoot him a look. He slowed a little too.

“I don’t have to prove anything,” you snapped.

Daryl raised his hands in defense, smiling just slightly.

“Never said you had to.”

You started to resume your trek again, only to halt a moment later when Daryl cut in:

“Yer a virgin, aren’t ya?”

This time the two of you came to a complete stop in the middle of the road. You saw the smug look on his face and wanted nothing more than to knock him on his ass.

“What did you just say?” Giving him a chance to fix his mistake.

Daryl did no such thing, only smiling even wider and crossing his arms.

“Just seems like you’ve never been fucked before,” he shrugged.

That was it. Without thinking twice, you shoved him hard in the chest and pushed him back a couple paces. Balled your hands into fists and nearly started pummeling his front, were it not for Daryl’s quick reflexes and frustrating ability to snag your two hands into one of his. He easily held your wrists captive above your head and squeezed them together—barely making an effort to restrain them and somehow doing it softly.

“You done?” he asked, unbothered.

You kicked him in the shin. This time he yelped, loosening his grip on you and leaving you space enough to break free. You contemplated another kick or shove for good measure, but seeing the enraged look on his face, you sensed it was in your best interest to flee. So you took off down the road.

You tore down the tarmac like a bat out of hell and chanced a quick look over your shoulder, only to see Daryl sprinting after you. Your stomach all but fell out your ass, and you kicked it into high gear as fast as you could.

“COME HERE!” Daryl bellowed behind you.

Your years outrunning walkers might finally have come in handy now. You sucked in a breath and took off like a shot, racing up the street with Daryl hot on your heels. With every second that passed, you sensed he was lagging further back. If you hadn’t been so scared he might beat you to a bloody pulp, you would’ve flipped him the bird or turned around to stick your tongue out.

The distance between you was even greater now. Your lungs were tight but breathing fine, and behind you, Daryl was audibly panting like a dog. You smirked to yourself.

Perhaps pushing your luck, you slowed down just a bit. Tried to stave off the oncoming wave of lactic acid soon to be stinging your muscles and keep the stomach cramps at bay. With your breaths growing more ragged and shallow by the second, you knew you couldn’t keep at this for too much longer. One of you would have to surrender at some point, and you knew it wouldn’t be you.

You were just then starting to regain speed when you felt something snag your waist. Before you could spare a look to the source of it, Daryl’s arm had already looped fully round your midsection and locked firmly in place. From there, his frame did the rest of the work as he took you both to the ground.

Daryl fell first. Got the wind knocked out of him and ate a face full of asphalt just in time for you to hit his body before you struck the concrete below. He let out a groan beneath you.

Together, you made a heaving, shaking mess in the middle of the road. Your body splayed over his, his arm still hooked around your hips, and the pair of you moaning and swearing and trying like hell to untangle yourselves from one another. You struggled to get upright, but your palms slipped on Daryl’s sweat-slick chest and sent you headfirst into his face. Daryl had just started to sit up when you knocked him flat on his back.

Nose-to-nose and practically panting into each other’s mouths, you shared a single, silent look—and simultaneously conjured up one of the worst ideas either of you had had to date.

“Wanna—” Daryl started.

“Yes.”

You and the man you’d just wanted to beat the living shit out of went shedding clothes like leaves off a tree. Daryl tearing the shirt off your body—so fast he damn near took your head off with it—and you fumbling at the buckle of his belt and whining at the feeling of a growing mound beneath you.

You freed belt, button, zipper, and boxers in a matter of seconds. Shocking even yourself, you started tugging his jeans down his legs, but Daryl stopped you.

“Leave it,” he grunted.

Before you knew it, he was hoisting himself off the ground with you still straddling his waist. Arms securing themselves under you and eyes searching wildly for the nearest car to fuck you on, Daryl groaned when your lips attached themselves to his neck. At length he settled on a long-abandoned Honda Civic perched on the edge of the road and dropped you onto the hood of it.

“Yer a shit driver, y’know that?” he said, yanking your shorts down your body.

You kicked them off at your ankles and inched yourself a little higher on the hood.

“Ever thought I meant to hit you?”

Daryl chuckled at that. Then he started lowering himself between your legs.

You’d been playing it unbelievably cool up until that point. Quick, witty, and nonchalant to a fault, as though you’d done this all a million times before. But inside you were panicked, fighting hard to keep your breaths in check and your stomach from twisting itself into knots. What was he planning to do with you? You’d only seen this stuff in movies, maybe once or twice in an incognito browser you’d opened years ago. You never thought you’d be doing any of it yourself—much less with a man twice your age and little more than a stranger to you—and suddenly, stupidly, you started to worry you might disappoint him.

You hadn’t even noticed Daryl had slipped down the length of your torso toward your heat. You tensed.

The next thing you felt was his hot breath fanning across your thighs, and you couldn’t help but try clamping them together, catching his head between the two of them.

“Ain’t even touched you yet,” he teased, glancing up at you.

You sincerely hoped neither your eyes nor your trembling thighs would give you away, but the look on Daryl’s face revealed just as much. Gaze still locked with yours, he offered a lopsided grin and started to bring his head even lower. Then, gently, he pressed a kiss over your panties. Then another. Then another.

You felt shivers the size of seismic waves pass over your body and he hadn’t so much as dipped a finger inside you. Slowly, you lifted your hips at Daryl’s behest and felt the fabric of your underwear disappear somewhere down your legs.

“We ain’t gotta do this if you’re—”

“Shut up,” you said, exasperated.

“Yes ma’am.”

Daryl imparted one last kiss to your aching core—this time unclothed—and groaned when he felt how wet you were before him. Almost immediately, his tongue darted out and licked a stripe up your slit. You moaned, squeezing your thighs even tighter.

Daryl didn’t mind. Just the opposite, in fact, as he delved deeper and flattened his tongue over your heat. Lapped up your juices and smirked when he felt you squirm above him.

“Dar—oh,” you began, only to break off in a semi-shriek when he found your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Wha’s’at?” Daryl’s voice came out muffled between your legs. Then lifting his head to be heard a little clearer, “You say sumn’, sugar?”

Your hands acted with a mind of their own as they hurriedly shoved his head back down.

“Don’t stop,” you hissed. You hardly knew what had come over you.

You heard one more muted, ‘Yes ma’am,’ and Daryl went dutifully back to his occupation of tongue-fucking you senseless. Coordinating a lethal combination of kissing, licking, sucking, and occasionally curling a finger inside you, he all but had you convulsing on the car with little to no hope of not cumming in his mouth. You threaded your fingers through his hair and yanked hard as the knot in your stomach started to tighten. One or two more suctioned kisses and a single lick between your folds and you’d be gone.

However, not long after that, Daryl did the cruelest thing you could’ve expected. He stopped.

Straightening up and taking a step back to marvel at the mess he’d made, he felt himself getting harder. All while you cussed and whined about how unfair he was being, he was concocting the filthiest thoughts imaginable. He grabbed both your ankles and jerked you closer. Then, crawling over you with pupils blown wide in lust, he seized hold of your throat in one hand and yanked you up hard to greet him.

You gagged, dragged your fingers helplessly over the single hand that was holding you up, and nearly started seeing stars when Daryl brought his face even closer to yours.

“You don’t cum ‘til I tell you to,” he said through gritted teeth, before letting go of your neck as quickly as he’d caught it and watching you fall back on your ass.

Sprawled out on the hood of the Honda, you cursed your deep-rooted daddy issues for finding that act of aggression arousing. You feigned an angry look and pouted up at him.

Before you could mouth off just to make him even angrier, you felt yourself manhandled once more: this time, plucked off the car and into Daryl’s arms. He promptly shifted your weight to one side and freed one of his hands to start fooling with something you couldn’t see beneath you. When you heard the rustle of fabric and felt him start to strain a little, you got the picture.

Daryl returned you to the car—this time, straddling him on the hood of it.

When he’d made himself comfortable and lifted you over his hips, he said, “You didn’t answer me earlier.”

“About what?” you huffed, already antsy with impatience.

“’bout this.” Daryl slipped a hand between your bodies and grazed your cunt with his knuckle. You pursed your lips tight to suppress the moan that followed.

“What about it?” you whined, trying, and failing, to steady your voice.

The corners of Daryl’s mouth twitched at the sight of you growing flustered. Quietly, he extended one finger and dragged it up your slit. Pretended not to hear when you whimpered his name.

“Have y’ever been fucked there?” he asked casually.

You had long since lost the tolerance for games. You shook your head and told him, “No.”

“What about here?”

Daryl beckoned you with the fingers of his free hand, and when you leaned in, brought them up to your lips. He cupped your chin and tapped your mouth, as if to accentuate his question.

“Nuh-uh,” you said, quietly.

If it were possible for Daryl to get any harder, he would have. You weren’t just a virgin, but an absolute, unadulterated novice to the world of depravity that infiltrated his every desire. Something about the artlessness and innocence in an amateur like yourself sent the blood pumping straight to his cock as he imagined all the things he could teach you. He couldn’t keep from staring at your lips, imagining his member pumping back and forth between them, or at your eyes, wondering how they’d lock with his the moment he pushed inside you. All thoughts of a rough and ruthless piledriver fuck escaped his brain as he sat back and simply relished the idea of being your first. It was all he could think about.

You, on the other hand, weren’t quite picking up what he was putting down and found yourself shifting uncertainly above him. Wondering if you had done something to upset him as he continued to watch you with a thousand-yard stare and didn’t say a word.

“Is that...okay?” you asked, your voice now barely above a whisper.

Daryl’s gaze flitted to yours, and he almost groaned at the wide-eyed expression of naïveté on your face.

Instead of answering, he took your hips in his hands and dragged your lower half over his. Letting you feel, for the first time, just how swollen and erect he was beneath you. Your breath hitched a little in your throat, but you couldn’t deny the sensation was incredible. As before, your body just sort of acted of its own accord and started rubbing against him, while you hoped, implacably, that whatever you were doing was normal. Judging by the sound he let out moments later you deduced that it was.

You hardly realized it yourself, but your heat was dripping with arousal. Coating Daryl’s cock with every gyration of your body while the man below you had only to grit his teeth and hiss at the sensation. When he glanced down to watch you, he almost groaned with pleasure.

“I need to fuck you,” he blurted out, half-declaration, half-plea.

That drove the point home well enough.

You watched with some amusement as Daryl continued to clench his jaw and fight with every fiber of his being not to buck his hips up into you. You almost felt tempted to giggle when all of a sudden Daryl took your face in his hands. Then he kissed you, deeply.

You were taken aback by the gesture but kissed him back all the same, surprised neither of you had made an attempt to do it before. With no great difficulty at all, your mouths melded into one another as he gripped the sides of your face and pulled you even closer. He slipped his tongue between your lips, and you tasted a tang of yourself still lingering on it. You opened your mouth a little wider in the hopes Daryl would afford you more of it.

But then, as quickly as he’d started, he stopped. He pulled away, looked you up and down, and swallowed.

“You sure y’want to?” he murmured.

Presently, and impatient as you were, you decided to take a page from Daryl’s book and gratify his question with a wordless answer. You rolled your hips over his and pushed the head of his cock against your wet, aching hole, peering into his eyes with the purest ‘fuck-me’ look you could muster.

Daryl was already gripping the base of his cock and angling it toward your entrance. Hoping you wanted this as badly as he did, pondering with some apprehension how he might fit you and whether it’d feel good for you at first or take some getting used to—all while needing you on him, around him, filled to the brim with every inch and pleading for more. Unlike himself, he found it near impossible to make that first push inside you, still plagued with the thought he might break you in two.

Sensing this, you did something uncharacteristic of yourself too, and made the first move to ease down on his length.

Your body welcomed him with surprising ease, though the inches came slow and the stretch was something you hadn’t expected. Your eyes flickered to Daryl’s as the sting turned to a burn, and you almost couldn’t bring yourself down to the base of him without the sound of a few strangled whimpers escaping your lips. Daryl’s hands quickly worked their way around you and started rubbing up and down your back, as if to distract you from the feeling while his eyes searched yours for any signs of serious discomfort.

“Hey, you’re good,” he assured you quietly, swallowing a moan of his own as your warmth engulfed him completely, “You’re good, honey, you’re good.”

When you looked to him as if to say, ‘Holy shit, are you sure?’ he just smiled and nodded.

“Takin’ me so good,” he murmured, eyes glued on you, “Doin’ so fuckin’ well.”

His soft consolations rang clear in your ears and encouraged you to keep going. You lifted yourself in his lap and brought your body back down again, this time gratified with Daryl’s first moan. He snaked an arm around your waist and helped you gently buck your hips to his and rock them back and forth. Together, you watched your bodies grind against each other in a hot and sweaty mess, making sounds as sticky and obscene as you’d ever heard before, and right then, you swore you could have cum at the sight of that alone. The initial burn gave way with each passing moment to a sweeter sort of feeling deep within your belly. You picked up your speed just a bit and braced yourself hard against Daryl’s chest.

“My baby feelin’ good?” he said, breaths coming out in shallow puffs now as you rode him.

You bit your lip and nodded, practically bouncing in his lap with your hands still anchored on him and your eyes beginning to close.

“That good, huh?” Daryl hummed.

When you nodded again, he dropped a hand to the spot where your bodies connected and rubbed a light, lazy circle between your folds. Your eyes squeezed tighter at the jolt of pleasure, and your body moved even faster.

“Fuck, Daryl,” you whined. “I-I–”

“What?” Daryl smirked.

You ventured a look back down at him, eyes all glossy and soft. You were still writhing, still rolling up and down his shaft with a fucked-out look as his hips started to snap up into you. In a moment, you surprised the both of you as you gripped his shoulder and said:

“I want you to fuck me from behind.”

Daryl was still rutting into you and somehow unable to comprehend how a thing as lithe and naive as you looked could ever say something so coarse. When he didn’t respond for some seconds, you sighed, disgruntled.

“C’mon, Dar,” you whined, “have I gotta bend myself over this car and—”

Daryl didn’t let you finish. Flipped you over beneath him and did exactly as you hoped he would, stomach flat on the hood of the car and ass up in the air.

He didn’t waste another moment waiting for your assent as he had before. He just thrusted himself in one, sloppy drive and made you moan as he bottomed out inside you. Snatched a fistful of hair in one hand and yanked your head back to meet his gaze.

“Anyone ever taught you manners?” he growled, likely displacing dozens of strands of hair from your scalp with the way he was pulling it, “Ever heard of please, and thank you, daddy?”

Your knees buckled at the last. Stretched and stuffed with his cock, you swear you couldn’t have felt any filthier than the instant he’d uttered that final word in your ear. You watched him, mouth hanging open, and hardly knew what to say.

“You know,” Daryl started, breaking your heart when he withdrew himself from your hole, “I don’t think you deserved to be fucked like this at all.”

Heaving breath after desperate breath over the hood of the car, you turned yourself fully to face him. He wasn’t smiling, or watching you with those careful, kind eyes anymore.

“I do,” you cried, “I want you to fuck me like that, Daryl, I do.”

“I bet you do,” he snapped, retreating another step, “I said you don’t deserve it.”

You would’ve fallen to your knees if you had a fraction less sense than you did. Pleading him with wild, frenzied eyes and legs that were liable to collapse with the weight of your desire, you didn’t blink when Daryl’s hand found the back of your head again—yanking it down this time around.

“Something tells me that mouth needs fucking if it wants a lesson in etiquette,” he griped, shoving you to the ground in front of him.

You cowered on your knees as your face hovered inches from his stiff, expecting member. The problem was, you didn’t know what he was expecting, or how he wanted it done. Were you supposed to take him in both hands and rub him up and down, pepper kisses down every throbbing vein and lick him ‘til he came, tease him with your tongue like he had with you, or else swallow him whole? You didn’t know, couldn’t start, would’ve like to wait another minute or two contemplating your latest charge when all of a sudden, Daryl’s hand pushed you straight on his cock.

Not an easy couple inches or a light, gentle thrust to get you used to his size in your mouth. A full-forced thrust to the back of your throat, causing your mouth to convulse, contract, and gag around him in response. Your eyes welled with tears and ventured a look to the man with his fingers still threaded through your hair. The scowl hadn’t ebbed from his features, and the eyes were hardly more sympathetic. He dragged you back up his length so there was just enough space for you to speak, and uttered, almost mockingly:

“What do we say when we want something, sugar?”

Your mind was buzzing, but the answers came quicker than you thought.

“Please,” you spluttered, drool leaking down your chin, “I say please.”

“Wrong,” Daryl declared.

Without another word, he shoved your face down the length of his cock and pulled it back even faster. You were still reeling with the force of your gag reflex and sucking in a breath when he began again.

“Please what?” he pressed, tilting your head up to face him.

“P-Please, daddy. Please, daddy,” you supplied in an instant.

A marginally gentler touch massaged the back of your head with his fingertips, and for a second, you thought you were clear. Then Daryl went pushing your mouth back onto him, albeit slightly less harsh, and you readily closed your lips around him and bobbed on his cock. You sucked happily and with more enthusiasm than you thought yourself able, just wanting to make Daryl happy and keep him guiding you over his length with a more tender grasp.

And he did just that. Seemingly appeased by your obedience and more than pleased to watch you slide up and down him as you were, he ran a more considerate touch over your head and let you do most of the work.

You flattened your tongue on the bottom and curled your lips around your teeth to keep the friction minimal. Almost amazed how natural it felt to be servicing his cock and wanting, more than anything, to know you were making him proud. When a long, protracted moan graced your ears the moment you reached the base of him, you held him there as long as you could and hummed a quiet, muffled whimper of your own.

When Daryl pulled you off a second later, you were disheartened, to say the least. You parted your lips and leaned in to take him in your mouth again, only to feel yourself being gathered back up in Daryl’s arms and brought to your feet.

“Go on,” he murmured, pacing forward and nudging you gently to the point the backs of your knees hit the grill of the car behind you, “Tha’s my good girl.”

You fell back and watched Daryl’s body trail close behind. By the time you were flat on your back, he was wedged between your thighs with a hand planted on either side of your head.

If wanted him any more, you’d probably be blue in the face, unable to breathe, and on the brink of seeing stars. Your chest rose and fell with the shortest, shallow breaths, and it seemed each passing moment brought you nearer to your fear that they might stop altogether if Daryl didn’t touch you soon. You gladly parted your legs further to accommodate his frame, and when you felt him above you, poised inches from your aching heat, you wrapped your legs around him. Tight.

“Tell me how ye want it,” Daryl grunted.

“Want you deep inside me, daddy, please,” you answered, taking care not to neglect your “manners.” Then, more softly, “Want you to fuck me ‘til I can’t walk, daddy, pretty pretty please.”

Daryl moaned at the sounds of your excitement, feeling you dig your heels in his ass and tug him even closer. His cock twitched at your entrance.

“Tha’ what you want?” he hummed, grazing his lips along your cheek, “Tha’s what my baby needs?”

You nodded frantically. Daryl nodded too, as if commiserating with you, but then felt unable to suppress the smirk that was threatening to grow on his face. He reveled in your pleasure and your pleas all the same and wanted to make this good for you. He couldn’t make you wait.

Pressing a kiss to your lips, he sank his cock between your folds and gratified you both with a familiar, filling stretch. You clenched around him and earned another low, guttural moan as Daryl pushed deeper inside you. It didn’t take long for the pace of his thrusts to pick up, impatience and desperation practically tangible in the air between you. You let your head loll back and felt Daryl’s own fall into the crook of your neck, breaths hot on your skin as he continued to pound you into the metal surface below.

“’s a shame ya don’t— fuck older guys,” Daryl whispered, punctuating his words with another thrust. Ridiculing you for your comments earlier and making you squirm as he did.

If you weren’t so close to climax you would’ve told him to fuck off—probably made yourself look a little stupid as a man twice your age was currently balls deep inside you, giving you dick like no other on the front-end of a Honda Civic. Instead, you swallowed your pride and smiled.

“Glad you could get it up when I did, daddy,” you managed quietly, cloyingly. Almost wanting to slip a sly Cialis joke at the end but thinking better of it.

Daryl took one of your legs over his shoulder then, pounding you at a vicious speed.

“Anything for my favorite Savior,” he returned, just as caustic and cruel as he relished the squelching sounds between you.

Your head fell back with the new, nearly unbearable sensation radiating from your core, and Daryl quickly cradled you between his arms. Hunched over you now and fucking you faster than ever, he wanted—no, needed—to see you cum, and he’d stop at nothing to see it happen.

He hauled your other leg to rest flat on his shoulder and thrusted even deeper. With both ankles above your head and your eyes practically rolled back in pleasure, it took him all of ten seconds to find your clit and make you scream. Not a moan or a shriek or a half-hearted whimper, but a scream that went echoing down the road and through the woods and likely in the ears of every walker within a five mile radius. Neither of you cared.

Your eyes locked on Daryl’s and glazed over with desire, all you needed was release.

“I-I’m close,” you managed, breath hitching with every snap of Daryl’s hips.

“Fuckin’ show me then,” Daryl bit back, “Show daddy how good his cock’s makin’ ya feel.”

What little you could show him came in the form of a strangled moan and a sigh, and Daryl didn’t seem satisfied with this in the slightest. Rather than take you at your word, he grasped your face in one hand and jerked your head toward him. Heart racing and chest shaking with every breath, he drove himself a little deeper and felt you clench him around him even tighter when he hit your sensitive spot.

“Wanna cum for daddy, is tha’ what y’want?” he prodded. Pretending not to hear when you squealed his name and writhed with every graze against your g-spot.

“Yes, daddy, please let me cum— a-all over your cock,” you stammered.

Daryl smoothed the hair out of your face and caught a glimpse of the cockdrunk expression painted on it, and almost shot his load on the spot. But he wouldn’t, couldn’t cum ‘til he had your own release spilling down his member, that much he knew. You were being so good for him, taking him so well, and on top of it all, calling him daddy left and right like your life depended on it. Daryl was smitten.

Sensing your orgasm was fast approaching, he dropped a hand between your legs and took care to keep it gentle. Watched your lips form an “o” and a hand reach for his, hurriedly, while an old, familiar feeling just then started to twist in your stomach.

“Daryl,” you shrilled, squeezing his hand as tight as you could.

“Right here, honey,” Daryl murmured, eyes steady on yours, “I’m right here, you can cum for me.”

He clutched your fingers right back and felt them tighten as a new wave of pleasure broke over you. Your moans came quick and took a higher pitch, your legs wrapped around him like a vice, and the best, albeit maddening, part for Daryl came when your muscles started to pulse around him, nearly sending him over the edge himself. You dropped your head back into his hands and simply felt him—in you, and on you, and at your ear with the gentlest words of encouragement. You breathed out a sigh when the pleasure started to subside.

Daryl didn’t stop. His eyes stayed locked on yours, and the soft, earnest grunts stayed constant as he continued to rut into you and circled a thumb over your clit.

You whined with your sharply heightened sensitivity and pressed your hands to his chest, bewildered by this feeling and why the hell Daryl had kept going.

“Dar—”

“One more, darlin’,” Daryl urged, as delicate as he was adamant.

Your eyes widened, every nerve ending in your body on the fritz. Your fingernails carved bright red crescents in his skin with the force of every thrust, and for a time, it seemed you were riding out the longest orgasm of your life. You clung to Daryl and let your pleasure overtake you. You scarcely understood the sensation more than you did Daryl’s intentions, but the longer he fucked you, the more intense the feeling grew, and within a matter of seconds you were coming undone again, the swell of your second climax washing over you with a mind-numbing fury.

Eager as he was to fuck you into your third, Daryl just couldn’t resist the sights and sounds and unbearable sensations beneath him any longer, and he felt his own orgasm tearing through his body moments later. You felt a spurt of warmth within you and a set of lips finding yours in a frantic, clumsy kiss, and you relished the noises Daryl made as he rode out his high.

You were still kissing in between delirious gasps for air and all but shaking on the sweat-soaked hood of the car. Daryl’s hips slowed before coming to rest comfortably between your thighs, still inside you.

Wide-eyed and smiling, Daryl raised a hand to your head and was just then brushing some hair from your face to plant a couple more kisses, when a voice broke out across the way:

“Ho-ly shit!”

You and Daryl jumped at the intrusion and glanced behind you. Your blood ran cold.

You spotted a familiar salt-and-pepper speckled head of hair and a set of eyes glinting with amusement. Standing off to the side with his attention fastened to the two of you and a head shaking back and forth, slowly, as if in disbelief.

“Daryl Dixon, you dirty, dirty dog!” he chided, “How’s it feel to pop my wife’s cherry before me, brother?”

At the last, Negan tightened his grip on Lucille and smiled.

[cute-sucker]

hi babe i’m offering my first born in return for more cowboy rafe?? 😩

note: you ask i deliver!! i'm begging for cowboy!rafe pls girl send me more asks about him, and also keep ur kid babe ily <3

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

cowboy!rafe first met you when your truck broke down.

 it was an old red thing that you had to curse at before it started, kicking the damn thing with your boots. the hazy afternoon had taken a toll on you, as you cursed under your breath. 

you were waiting "patiently" in traffic, little embedded jewels in your hair, honking your horn as hard as you could. it sucked. you hated traffic, and you hated even more when you were waiting to hang out with your girls, wearing your silver and black shimmery dress which had graceful bows at the top. 

but here you were. practically marinating in your stupid truck. finally it felt like forever when the way freed. you yelped in happiness, raising your hands to the air, and then pressed the pedal. it was nice, the breeze in your hair, lana del ray cracked up on the toggle, and the jangles on your shimmering in the light. you sang along with the song until you felt your car stop. 

desperately you stepped at the pedal groaning at your luck, as you slowed down. quickly you pulled to side, before grabbing for your cell, pouting as you dialled the number. "guys, i don't think i'll make it on time, my stupid fucking truck won't take me anywhere and unless," you lowered your voice, giggling, "i meet some hot guy that can fix my car, i'll be out!" 

"ya alright?" 

suddenly you made eye contact with steely blue eyes, a slight smile pulled on his mouth, and hands jammed in his blue jeans. you found yourself blushing, your strawberry pink gum stuck on the roof of your mouth. it was as if your little confession at the dial had come true, and you couldn't help but feel flustered before your instincts kicked in. 

"no, i need help," you quickly professed, groaning as you struggled to turn over to look at him properly. it was as if the more you looked at him, the more the butterflies in your stomach intensified. 

here rafe had grinned, quirking an eyebrow your way, "how old is your truck?" here you rolled your eyes, snapping your gum with a pout. it was as if he liked you even more when you did that, all bratty and proud, as he tilted his head your way. you ignored now his question, trailing your manicured hands on the wheel.

"well, it kinda stopped, and i have no idea what to do." you blurted, "please help me." 

the man laughed at your desperation, a death-pan expression on his face as he lit a cigarette, his biceps flexing. he was relaxed you felt almost ignored.

 "nice to meet you. 'm rafe." 

"um," you paused, "great, could you help me out now?"

"you're a real princess aren't ya? no please or anything like that." 

you groaned, before easing your pedal, puppy eyes wide as you leaned over at the window. he seemed to bask in your attention, his finger grazing your jaw, as you scooched closer to look him in the eye. there was something about him, so old, so much more that made you want to stare at him longer. but that was quickly a problem. 

"please. please help me." 

finally, a smirk spread across his face, before he flickered the cigarette off, and knocked on the door of your rusty truck, "gotta get out of the car first, pup. " and you quickly scampered out of the car, jumping out with a 'hurrup.' sometimes even getting out of the goddamn car was a struggle, and when you got out, you looked up at him with defensive eyes-he was trying not to laugh. 

"alright, now do you have a kit of some sort?"  

you looked up at him with confused wide eyes, "i'm not sure," you whispered, shivering. 

"damn, you really need me to fend for you. open that truck of yours." 

within five minutes he had done everything possible, laying down on the ground, tinkering with things, and by the time he got up, there was grime on his face as he handed you the wrench with a wink. his white shirt had been marked by the dirt on the road, and you sat there all dolled up watching him grunt while trying to fix your engine. 

you resisted the urge to reach out and wipe away the grime on his cheek, knowing it would be too forward. instead, you smiled, hoping it conveyed your gratitude and a bit of the fascination you felt.

you smiled at him, all sweet as you put it back into your trench. "thanks rafe!" you found yourself murmuring when back in your truck, as he gave you an easy smile. you felt so shy, holding onto your purse, as he stood there. yet before you drove off, you gave him a tiny wave thinking that was the last time you would see him.

suddenly as you started your truck you heard a whistle behind you. glancing in the rearview mirror, you saw rafe standing there, his hands cupped around his mouth.

"hey, princess! see ya next time," he called out with a wink, his voice carrying over the distance.

you couldn’t help but laugh, your heart skipping a beat.

little did you know rafe cameron would be in your life for a long time. 

[loupy-mongoose]

I had fun writing this part, and got it done quickly. :>

Speech guide; Randy's speech Jamie's speech (Pokespeak in parentheses)

PREVIOUS NEXT

~~~~~~

After walking a good ways, the group arrived at a cozy looking house with shrubbery in front of a covered porch, located at the edge of the woods surrounding the town.

On it, sitting on a porch swing, was a blond man, his head facing away from them. Soon, he turned to the approaching group. And as soon as he saw them, he stood up with a wide smile and shimmering eyes. Randy noticed what appeared to be dark claw scars down his cheek, and a white scarf was wrapped around his wrist.

Suddenly, Jamie broke into a brisk run, meeting the man at the bottom of the porch steps. Without breaking stride, she leapt into him, flinging her arms around his neck. He lost his footing and fell into a sit on one of the steps. But his face was that of pure joy as he pulled the small girl into a full hug.

As the Linden trio caught up to their escort, Randy saw her give the man a peck on the cheek. She then got up off of him, allowing him to stand as well. Pari floated over and nuzzled him fondly before draping herself over his shoulder.

The man scanned them with a friendly smile that shone in his green eyes, eventually holding his gaze on Lav. I don't mean to be presumptuous, but... He pointed at her with both hands. I'm guessing you're Lavender?

Randy looked to his daughter to see her give a shy smile and a nod.

He turned back to the man, who, although it was hard to tell in the fading light of day, appeared to be as tall as Randy himself. ...No, maybe a wee bit taller...

Yes, this is Lavender. He placed his hand on her shoulder. He then motioned the hand that was still in Akoya's. And this is her mother and my wife, Akoya. I'm Randall. Linden.

The man reached out to shake hands with Randy. I'm Cody Rennard. It's wonderful to meet you all!

It's nice to meet you too, Cody. Akoya took her turn to shake. You're a breath of fresh air next to Jamie.

Randy gave her a sharp look. Akoya, that's a little rude.

She's right, though.

Randy turned to Jamie in surprise. The girl had gone up onto the porch and was sitting on a stool, wiping her feet thoroughly with a wet cloth and a bucket of water. She shrugged as she worked, giving him a blank look. I know how hard I am to get along with.

Hey now, I won't take any slander against my wife with our guests. Cody pointed at her in playful anger. Including from her own mouth.

Randy and Akoya's eyes widened. Wife??

The man gave them a toothy smile. Yeah! Been married five years now.

Five years?? How old is she?? I thought she was a kid! Akoya was absolutely flabbergasted. She's as tall as Lav!

Randy attempted to stop her, to dial her back a bit, but he had to admit he was surprised too.

I'm twenty-six. Jamie stood up and stretched, a gleam of amusement flashing in her icy gaze. But as she relaxed, it vanished and left only exhaustion. And tired. Let's go inside.

Oh! Hey! Cody gestured to the newcomers to follow them into the house, but he spoke to Jamie as he held the door open for them all. I got a surprise for you, but it's to share with our guests too. If they want any, of course. I'm sure they'll get eaten regardless~

Jamie looked up at the blond man, her eyes shimmering in curiosity, as she walked past him into the house.

Randy saw the girl sniff the air and look around.

Oh!

He followed her line of sight to see two short boxes stacked on each other on a bar counter. She bound over to them, her tiredness seemingly forgotten. Cody you're amazing! Thank you so much!

Donuts? Lav's eyes twinkled longingly, and she looked up at Cody. Can I have one?

The blond man smiled at her, giving a flourishing motion toward the donuts. I did say she had to share.

Lav nervously approached the counter. Jamie had seated herself on a tall swiveling chair and bit into one. Randy felt a rush of joy as the red-haired girl--or, woman, apparently--handed the box carefully out so Lav could take one.

Thank you, Miss Jamie. He couldn't see his daughter's face, but could feel the same joy flash from her as she took a donut.

Jamie gave her a nod. Mm-hm! She then turned to Randy and Akoya, for the first time appearing at ease and genuinely friendly. Want some?

Akoya shook her head, and Randy held his hand up politely. No thank you. We're not too into sweet stuff.

Mm. Jamie placed the box back on the counter and took a second donut. More for us then.

So... Randy turned to Cody. Is... is this where we'll be staying? H-how much do you even know?

I know that you're here to see someone named Nicodemus, who's the mate of the Mew Jovie. And if you want to, then you're very welcome to stay here! I'm sure Jamie's brother and sister-in-law would gladly let you stay with them too, but I like having guests. He gave them a warm grin. Adds some spice to life, you know?

Could we see our room, then? We have a lot to discuss.

Cody began to move further into the house. Of course! Right this way!

Wait.

They all turned to Jamie as she hopped off the seat. She steadily met the eyes of the Lindens, alternating between the three, her icy gaze glimmering seriously.

(Cody needs to know about the Mews)

Randy felt his blood chill, and could feel sparks of fury flickering off of his wife. He glanced at Cody, trying to gauge his reaction.

(Don't worry, he can't understand me.)

(But he should know. He's far, FAR less likely to hurt them than I am.) Akoya's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Jamie looked at her as she went on. (That's not to say I would. Whoever those Mews are to you guys... I guarantee they'll be well protected and welcome here.)

For the first time, Pari spoke from her perch on Cody's shoulder.

(He'll be so happy to see them, I promise!)

It wasn't hard for the Lindens to make up their minds.

The energy they got from Cody was vastly different from Jamie's--Randy had to admit, it was far more welcoming.

Even besides that...

He literally had a Mew vouching for him.

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

Bit of a shorty this time. Unfortunately gotta wait 'til next one for Mew Reveal 2: Electric Boogaloo. (I need room for it, hehehe~)

[goosefruit]

the sound of her voice

vanessa shelly x reader

tw: phone sex, sub!reader, sex toys (bullet vibrator & dildo), teasing, orgasm denial, masturbation, maybe exhibitionism (not really? vanessa is in a public space but alone), a lot of dirty talk

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

You had always been a good girl for Vanessa.

Normally, on your days off, you’d wait patiently for her to come home, sometimes even dressing up to give her a pleasant little surprise. In return, she’d reward you with her tongue and fingers until the both of you were too tired to keep going. 

Normally, you would never tease her while she was at work, aside from the occasional suggestive text. 

Today, however, time felt unbearably slow. Every part of your body was aching to have Vanessa by your side, but it would be at least another 2 hours before she was home. 

That was when a wicked idea came to your mind.  

Getting off your living room couch, you made a trip to your bedroom closet to look for a couple of items. A blush crept up your cheeks as you thought about this brilliant plan that you were about to execute. 

You laid down on the bed with a small but powerful bullet vibrator, as well as the dildo that was usually attached to Vanessa’s strap-on harness. The silicone cock was a whopping 8 inches long, in a dark shade of purple. Memories of your girlfriend bouncing you on it in the back of her cop car flashed through your mind, sending a wave of arousal down to your core.

To make the experience even more pleasurable, you decided to wear nothing but one of Vanessa’s hoodies. Wrapped up in her scent, you felt as if you could close your eyes and pretend that you were laying in her lap. 

And so you turned on the vibrator and dialed her phone number.

“Y/N! What’s up, honey?” Her sweet voice sang out from the other end.

“Vanessa,” you slipped the toy under the hoodie, pressing it against your nipple. The sensitive peak became hard and erect at the contact, and you bit your lip to avoid making a noise. “Nothing’s going on today. I just reeaally wanted to hear your voice.”

Vanessa gave a light laugh. “Miss you too, babe. I just finished checking up on Freddy’s; thought there was a break-in, but it was just a raccoon who slipped in and broke some shit trying to get to a pizza that the new night guard left out." 

“That’s absurd! Hope the little guy at least got a bite,” the vibrator began to move lower, now at your hip bone. “So, does this mean you’re still in the pizzeria’s parking lot, in that cop car of yours?”

“Mhm,”

“Alone?”

“Completely. You know no one visits this place other than me and the ever-changing night guards.”

“Great,” you smirked to yourself, drawing soft circles on your inner thigh with the vibrator. “Because I’m in bed right now, warming myself up for you when you get home.” You turned the vibrator up a setting so that it was loud enough for her to hear through the phone. 

“Oh, are you now?” 

The confidence in her voice almost made you rethink your decisions, but you pushed through and continued talking. 

“And oh fuck, my pussy is so wet. It’s practically dripping for you, Vanessa.” Putting the phone on speaker, you set it down beside you so that you could run a finger through your slick folds while the other hand guided the toy closer. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, the things I want you to do to me, and the things I want to do to you. You drive me crazy, you know that? Fuck, I wish you were here with me.”

“Well, I can’t say that I’m not enjoying this newfound boldness, sweetheart.” There was a hint of raspiness in her voice. “But you know you could never touch yourself as good as I do.” 

The vibrator finally completed its journey to your clit, and a loud moan escaped from between your lips. 

“Mmm, fuck— and guess what, Nessa? I’m wearing nothing except for your hoodie…smells heavenly. Can almost pretend you’re here eating out my pussy. Ohh god—  feels fucking a–amazing—” 

You took the dildo and lined it up with your dripping wet hole, slowly pushing the tip in. The vibrator was still held in place on your clit, the double stimulation causing your eyes to roll back.

“I’ve got our favourite dildo here too. That huge one you love to destroy me with…better get it nice and lubed up for you when we have our fun later. It’s suuuch a shame you can’t see how well my pussy is taking it right now.” You pushed the entire length of the dildo in before pulling out to thrust it into your pussy. Keeping quiet was no longer a concern as curses and moans spewed out of you. “Ohh y–yeah— can you hear how wet my fuckhole is?”

“Yes baby, keep talking,” her heavy breathing was audible. 

You pounded the toy into your pussy harder. “If you were fucking me, I would hook my legs over your shoulders so you can rail me so deep I can’t walk the next day. Doesn’t that sound nice? Just like t–that, baby— bruise my fucking insides. Make me cum, Van– mmm!” At this point, you were rambling, saying anything that came to mind. Your brain had already turned to mush the second she started speaking in that sultry fucking voice. 

Vanessa let out a long groan, the same one you were used to hearing every time you made her cum. Did she just…?

“Fuck,” she panted, a quiet moan coming from her back of her throat. 

The realization made you halt in your actions. “Vanessa, did you just have an orgasm!?”

“Oh honey, I told you the parking lot’s empty. What? You thought I wasn’t going to touch myself to my pretty girl’s voice?”

The thought of Vanessa in the driver’s seat of her car with a hand down her pants made your stomach tighten with excitement. You began to fuck yourself with the dildo again. 

“V–Vanessa— I’m getting close too—” you pleaded, praying that she would let you cum from your own hands just this once. 

“Not yet, sweet thing. You’re going to stay on call with me while I finish my patrol for today, but don’t you dare cum before I get home.”

You whined, not knowing whether you could last even 5 more minutes. 

“But by all means, keep fucking yourself. My radio’s broken, so give me something satisfying to listen to.”

“Vanessa– I ca—’t—”

“You said you wanted me to make you cum, no? So be a good girl and hold on for me.”

Of course, you were her good girl. So even though your sensitive clit couldn’t possibly handle any more stimulation, you turned the vibrator up another setting.

“I’ll be home in an hour.”

[acaaai-t]

as the seasons change

[fem! reader x college au! xiao]

cw: fluff, lots of fluff, slow burn-ish, fluff, reader gets harassed, cursing, oh did i mention fluff? — [long fic ahead]

wc: 7.3k

⤷ ❝ ft song— 《小城夏天》 ❞

“rainfall, a storming encounter— spring.”

"Do you remember the night we first met? Or well, at least when I first met you?" you asked, snuggling deeper into the warmth your blanket, and your partner, provided.

Xiao smiled and pulled you closer. "I could never."

>>—<<

The night was still young, light rain pattering against the windows. It was hard to tell if the sun was still up or not, for the dark clouds covered everything. It was only you left, still clearing out the store, handling the remaining few customers here and there.

“Your hot americano, sir,” you said, handing the customer their ordered drink. “Would you like a bag with it?”

“No, I would like your number with it though. Say, you’re single, aren’t you?”

“Wh— huh?”

“Oh, come on, a charming fellow like you is still single, am I right?"

You really weren’t sure how to respond to his advancements, so you stood there, dumbfounded. “Um—”

“Why don’t you leave her the fuck alone?” the voice of a random customer cut you off.

You looked over to the whoever it was helping you deal with this man. ‘Oh shit, he’s really pretty,’ was your first thought upon sight.

The customer glared at the interrupter. “Look, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I ain’t going to listen to whatever the hell you say.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll have a fun time talking to the police,” pretty boy said, staring down at the customer. He flashed the screen of his phone, the number 9-1-1 on dial.

“You—” he stopped himself, took a deep breath, and turned his attention from pretty boy over to you. “Listen here, you bitch. Shits would’ve been so much easier if you just gave me your fucking number, yeah?”

You flinched. “I’m sorry?”

“Sorry doesn’t fucking do shit,” he yelled, lifting up his cup of coffee.

Your eyes widened. “Don’t—”

Too late.

You nearly screamed when you felt the burning hot coffee sizzle against your skin. The now empty cup rolled to the side. You hastily wipe at your face, crimson from where the coffee had made contact.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” pretty boy got up from where he was seated. The man turned to look at him.

You quickly took this opening to disappeared into the back kitchen, searching for a cold towelette to ease the burning pain. You could’ve sworn you had ascended to heaven there and then when you pressed the cool towel onto your face.

‘That feels so much better…’

A loud crash pulled your spirit back down. Keeping the towel pressed against your cheek, you made your way back to the front counter— just in time to see the customer that had harassed you flee the scene. Pretty boy stood there, arms crossed, rolling his eyes as the glass door swings shut.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” he asked the moment his eyes laid upon you.

“There’s no need,” you smiled at him. “Thanks for helping me, by the way.”

“It’s… nothing,” he adverted his gaze from you.

You finally got a good look at him. His facial features were mostly obscured by a black mask he wore, but his striking amber eyes was a prominent detail, you noticed. There was also a greenish tint to the edges of his hair and along his bangs. Peeking out from under his turtleneck, you saw a trace of some sort kind tattoo. ‘That’s hot,’ you immediately thought to yourself.

You must’ve been staring for too long, for his voice suddenly broke off your thoughts. “Can you please stop staring…” he sounded and looked flustered. Even with the mask on, you could faintly see the red of his cheeks.

“Ah, sorry…” you were quick to reply, embarrassment crawling in showing as the pink that lightly dusted your face.

The atmosphere of the cafe suddenly felt very awkward, with neither side willing to talk. You cleared your throat, hoping to break the silence. Perhaps you could treat him to a free coffee for helping you rid of that costumer. You put on a smile. Your cash register blinked red.

“Would you like a—” you glanced down at the register for just the slightest moment, then look back up, only to find the pretty boy gone. “Free coffee…” you finished.

‘Ah.’

“starfall, the sparkle in your eyes— summer”

“Oh FUCK.”

You scrambled about, hurriedly changing from the comforts of your pajamas to whatever you’d dug out from your closet.

“Why didn’t my fucking alarm go off?!”

“What the fuck?” the groggy voice of Aether mumbled.

Panic was racing though your body, you glanced at the clock as you stuffed your boots on.

8:57am

You have three minutes to spare. 180 seconds to make it from your dorm to your campus, from your campus to your lecture hall. Under most normal circumstances, you would’ve just skipped the exam altogether, but your professor just had to be a bitch and make the exam a major part of your grade— and if you wish to pass his class, you must take it.

Exam starts the moment the clock ticks 9:00, and nobody is allowed in anymore after— as your professor had specifically told the class.

“Sorry Aether!”

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you slammed the door shut and booked it.

8:58am

Two minutes was all you had left. You didn’t waste your entire high school life practicing in the track team just not make be able to make a 300-yard dash in two minutes. You can— no, you will. You will make it.

Your peripheral vision of the environment blurred together as the wind began to catch up, heart racing with every stride you take.

In your haze of sheer panic, you had failed to notice the boy you were gunning towards scrambling to move out of your way. You yelped when you absolutely bodied them. He managed to steady himself, but you on the other hand, found yourself sprawled on the concrete.

“Ow…” you muttered, rubbing your lower back regions. “I’m so sorry you see— oh it’s you!”

Pretty boy looked bewildered; his eyes trained on your figure sitting on the ground. He reached out a hand to help you up, but there was no need. You weren’t sitting for very long, for a quick glance at your watch had you up instantly.

“I am going to be late. Sorry about that,” you called out.

He stood there. “You dropped something…” he slowly said.

But you were long gone, leaving nothing but a slight breeze that tickled his cheek.

>>—<<

Just a little under a minute remaining. Your lungs felt like they were on fire. The sight of your class building was just in sight. Just a little bit more, you thought.

15…

You pulled out your student ID and swiped through the scanner, barley giving the poor machine time to unlock the door before you rammed your way through it.

11…

Scrambling up the stairs like a madman, you could care less about the student that screamed at the sight of you— going on all fours crawling up the stairs at an inhuman speed.

4…

You’ve finally made it to the third floor; your legs were uncontrollably shaking by then. The final stretch, and with the time quickly ticking away, you ran as if your life was on the line.

1…

The door to the lecture hall opened with a loud bang, echoing throughout the quiet room. Every head was turned to stare at you, even your professor stopped midway in handing out tests to look at you.

“I’m not late,” you panted, face flushed red.

You made it with barley a second to spare. The clock struck nine.

>>—<<

“Ugh, I for sure failed that exam…” Lumine grumbled, stuffing her reference papers back into her backpack. “You done organizing yet?”

“One moment…” you replied, zipping up your bag. “…okay, let’s go.”

Lumine hooked her arm around yours as the two of you exited the lecture hall. “You know when you slammed that door open, everyone jumped. I think the prof got scared too.”

“Don’t remind me. I nearly broke my back trying to get here on time… hey speaking of which. Why didn’t you wake me up?” you said.

“I tried; you were dead asleep… I accidentally woke Aether and Tao up trying to get you awake,” Lumine replied.

“Oh— ow, my back,” you muttered. The scene where you rammed into the pretty boy flashed in your mind. You suddenly frowned. “Wait a moment.”

You stopped in the middle of the hallway, realization catching up to you. “Wait a damn moment.”

“What is up with you today? Let’s go before they trample us over,” Lumine said, tugging you along as another current of students flooded your way. She led you out the school building. You winced and squeezed your eyes shut as the unbearably bright sunlight caught you off guard.

Now it was Lumine’s turn to pull you to a halt. You felt the hand grip around your arm tighten. “Ow,” you complained.

“Oh sorry— but look at that guy over there!” Lumine exclaimed, slightly gesturing over to someone.

You squinted, trying to see through the blazing glory of the sun. “Where?” you asked. “I literally can’t see, it’s so bright.”

“Over there,” Lumine hissed. “Oh, crap I think he saw us, let’s go let’s go.”

Lumine quickly began to usher you away, and you blindly followed suit. You felt her panic when she suddenly began dragging you as she sped walked away.

“Hey, wait—” a voice called out from behind.

Lumine stopped, frozen over. You turned around, using one hand to mask away the sun. “It’s you again!” you exclaimed.

“It’s me.”

“You two know each other?” Lumine quipped, turning over to look at you. Her eyes narrowed. “You aren’t stalking my friend here, right?”

“Lumine, relax. Remember what happened at work? He was the guy I was telling you about. Not a stalker.”

“Ohh— him?!”

“Why are you so shocked?”

“Need to have a word with you,” Lumine whispered, grabbing ahold of your sleeve. “Excuse us.”

She brought you over to a more secluded area— under one of the many oak trees and began talking in a hushed voice.

“Do you even have a clue as to who he is?” She lightly jabbed at your chest.

“No?” you replied. “All I know is that he’s the regular that appears and orders the same thing every day.”

“That’s Xiao?! Like the Xiao??”

“Oh, that super-hot guy that everyone loves? … THAT’S HIM?!” jaw dropped, you stared at Lumine in utter disbelief.

“Yes!” she hissed.

“Now I see why everyone was staring at him… you too.”

“How did I not know? No, how did you not know?! Your so-called protector is Xiao…”

You ran your fingers through your hair. “I didn’t think it was necessary, besides, you never asked.”

“Fuck you, let’s go back,” she said, sweetly smiling at you. You suddenly had a bad feeling. The iron grip she had on your arm slightly terrified you. Lumine led you back to where Xiao stood.

“Hi, sorry for keeping you waiting,” you said, sending Lumine a glare. She pinched you in response.

“It’s fine,” he said. “You dropped his, by the way, when you uh, bumped into me.”

“Ah.”

Bumped was too nice of a word to replace what had really happened. You laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, sorry about that, you aren’t hurt, are you?”

He shook his head. “Here,” he said, handing you your keys.

“Oh, so that’s where my keys went,” you exclaim, taking your item back. “I was wondering where it went. Thank you!” You beamed at him.

He turned his head away. It went silent again.

Lumine took one look at the sudden mood change, then gave you a sly smile, and slipped away from the scene before you could even latch on to her. You watched as she ran away, her figure gradually merging in with the other students.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked once Lumine was out of sight.

“What?”

“Your cheek, where the drink burned you. Does it still hurt?”

“No,” you said. “Thank you, again.”

“It’s nothing.”

“And uh, last time you left before I could ask you,” you said. “I would like to treat you to a cup of coffee as my thanks.”

“There’s really no need.”

“I insist. Are you free this Saturday?” you asked. “I’m [name], by the way.”

“Xiao,” he replied. “I’m free anytime.”

“Wonderful! I’ll see you this Saturday at Angels Hall then,” you said.

You hadn’t given Xiao much of a chance to speak before you left, giving him a small wave as you disappeared under the bright sunlight to look for Lumine. If you had stayed a little longer and observed a little closer, maybe you would’ve seen the furious blush that covered his cheeks that he so desperately tried to hide.

“Ooh-la-la, my goodness Xiao,” a cheeky voice came trailing up behind him. “Who’s the lucky one?”

Xiao glared at the newcomer. “Nobody, Venti.”

The short boy in green placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be hurt. “Oh Xiao, you won’t even tell me? That’s fine then, I’ll get Heizou to do it for me.” His voice had a slight tease to it.

“Shut it…”

The week passed by in a blink of an eye, and Saturday came faster than Xiao liked. You had told him the details when you— coincidentally, bumped into him while running some errands.

2:00pm, you had told him.

The clock was striking close to 1:45 and he was not ready to have a one-on-one conversation with you.

Xiao paced around his dorm anxiously, muttering incoherent nonsense to himself. His dorm mates looked at him curiously, but no word was said between them. Venti sat in one corner of the room, silently giggling to himself. He seemed to be the only one amused at Xiao’s demise.

“What’s got you so stressed out, Xiao?” one of his dorm mates asked. His green eyes glinted with interest.

“Nothing…” Xiao muttered.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me. Are you meeting her?”

Xiao froze. “How do you know? Did Venti tell you?”

“Ah, so you ARE meeting up with her.”

>>—<<

“You did WHAT NOW?!”

Aether winced at Hutao’s sudden outburst. “Tao, volume please.”

“Did she actually do it? You saw her ask him?” Hutao gripped tightly onto Lumine’s shoulders, gently shaking her. Her bright red eyes widened.

“I don’t know,” Lumine sheepishly admitted. “I ran away so they could have some time alone, you know?”

Hutao looked miserable, the way her bangs drooped down and covered her face. She dramatically sighed and spun herself onto her bed, the mattress squeaking as she did so.

You got up from where you sat and began rummaging through your tiny closet for a bag suitable for today's meeting. You couldn’t find one to your liking, so you began searching through Lumine’s closet. “Hey Lum, mind if I borrow your bag for the day? It’s the black messenger one.”

“Sure, just don’t get it dirtied,” Lumine replied nonchalantly. She crumpled up a piece of scrap paper and threw it at Aether. It landed directly on his forehead with a tiny bonk.

“Lumine!” he whined, rubbing at where the ball had hit him.

You quickly slipped on a pair of boots and opened the door. “I’ll take my leave now.”

“Have fun on your date!” Hutao cheered enthusiastically, her voice muffled. It seemed her glum mood had just dispelled.

“It’s not a date,” you groaned, exasperated.

“Make sure to tell us EVERY single little detail when you get back,” Lumine said, her eyes boring onto yours. You shivered.

“Bye [name]!” Aether waved at you, stopped short when another paper ball hit him. “Lumine! Stop throwing those at me, you’re cleaning them up.”

“Bye everyone,” you said. “Be back in an hour or so.”

>>—<<

Xiao was incredibly nervous. He really should’ve said no to your offer. But… he squeezed his eyes a shut and groaned. He couldn’t bear seeing the disappointment washing over that sparkle of joy in your eyes.

Curse his feelings. To hell with them.

“Xiao!”

Your eager voice snapped his out of his thoughts. He looked up at you, and his heart began to beat a little faster.

It’s just a friendly meetup, not a date.

“Hey.”

“I didn’t keep you waiting for too long, did I?” you asked.

Xiao shook his head. “I just got here.”

“Great, let’s go in, shall we?” you said.

He nodded.

The door to the cafe opened with a jingle, and the ambiance of the environment allured you in further. Xiao followed closely behind you, his eyes darting around nervously.

A peculiar figure caught his eye, and he wanted to die right there and then at the sight.

Venti pushed his sunglasses up further and gave Xiao a shit eating grin. Seated around him was his dorm mates, everyone was there, watching him. Heizou gave him a wink, as if to say, ‘good luck’.

How they managed to get there before Xiao is beyond him.

“You fuckers…” Xiao mumbled under his breath.

You ushered him into a seat and handed him the menu.

“Order whatever,” you told him. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

When Xiao had made sure you were gone, he set the menu down and got up, making his way over to his friend group sitting in the corner.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” Xiao hissed.

Venti took off his sunglasses and gave Xiao an innocent look. “We just so happen to be passing by, didn’t know you were coming here too.”

Scaramouche scoffed, rolling his eyes. Heizou jabbed him.

“You know damn well…” Xiao said.

“Well Xiao, you shouldn’t stay for too long. Your date should be back soon,” Venti mused.

Speak of the devil, his sharp hearing picked up the sound of the bathroom door being open— despite the loud chatter of the cafe. He gave Venti a glare before returning to his seat and picking up the menu, acting as if nothing had transpired.

You reappeared, taking a seat across from him. “Chosen what you want yet?”

Xiao skimmed through the menu and quickly picked the one that looked the most appealing. “Yeah, an Angels Blessing, whatever that is.”

You called the waitress over and placed your orders.

“You really didn’t have to,” Xiao said, watching as the waitress left for the kitchen.

His words completely crossed your mind. Caught off guard by your silence, Xiao looked back at you.

Your eyes bore into his, an unreadable expression on your face. Xiao couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from you even if he tried. Something compelled him to keep staring.

Suddenly the noises of the cafe blurred out, fading into nothing but a tiny buzz. It was just you and him, alone, sitting across from each other.

When had you become so pretty?

You smiled at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling up. “Xiao did you know?”

When did the butterflies began appearing?

“Know…” he swallowed the lump in his throat.

When did it happen? Why?

“You have really pretty eyes; they remind me of the stars glittering in the galaxy.”

Maybe that’s what had confirmed his skeptical feelings for you, because at that moment, Xiao felt like he fell in love all over again.

In love with all of you again.

“memoirs, anew remembrance— autumn”

Memories. Taken in the form on pictures, notes, anything.

Xiao could remember the time he first laid eyes on you clear as day.

It was on campus last year autumn, during the annual sports festival, where you were one of the many participants racing for the win. Xiao stood together with his friends, betting on who would come out victorious.

He wasn’t particularly interested in who won or who lost, in fact, Xiao didn’t even want to be here in the festival in the first place. It was only under the solemn promise of free almond tofu that he agreed to go.

“I’m betting on the one in green,” Venti said. “5 dollars he wins.”

“The player in purple,” Kazuha pointed to the billboard listing all the players. “How about you Scaramouche?”

“I don’t fucking know, the black one?” Scaramouche muttered.

“I’m calling the purple one,” Heizou said. “Who are you betting on, Xiao?”

“Uh, the blue one?” Xiao blurted out.

Venti clapped his hands in glee. “Wonderful! May the gods be on my side and let the green player win!”

“Venti that’s not how it works.”

>>—<<

“Nervous?”

“Of course I’m fucking nervous…” you mumbled, fidgeting with your gloves.

The pink hair girl laughed, her green eyes twinkling. “You’ll do just fine. Those months of practice won’t go to waste.”

“I really do hope so…”

“Have some faith in yourself.”

“Thank you, Fei,” you said, feeling the strings of agitation pulling away.

“Best of luck,” Yanfei said, sending you a wink just as the booming voice of the announcer came on.

It was your time to shine— or horribly embarrassed yourself.

>>—<<

“They’re finally starting!” Venti exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Oh there’s the green one!”

Xiao watched closely as each player began taking field. The player he had betted on stood in the far corner. He hadn’t expected himself to be so interested in the game. Perhaps it was because he didn’t want to lose five dollars today.

‘And the players had taken field!’ the announcer shouted.

The crowd cheered.

‘A soon to be fantastic yet suspenseful game tonight, five players competing for the title of king. Only the best out of the best in the field tonight, this game surely will be an interesting one. And now without any further delays…’

Xiao held his breath, his eyes trained on the player in blue.

‘…may the game commence.’

>>—<<

The pressure was killing you. The eyes, the cheers, the lights. Yet none of those stopped you. All those months of ruthless training— not even a single second will be left to waste away.

You dropped into a trance, body moving on autopilot. The voice of your coach commanded your every move.

It was only when the stadium erupted into screams that you broke out from your daze, startled at the sudden outburst.

‘And we have a clear winner!’ the announcer broadcasted, her voice echoing over the crowd’s cries.

Lumine jumped over the railings and ran into to the field, successfully dodging the security trying to grab her. She body slammed you and engulfed you in a tight hug. “YOU WON! YOU DID IT!” Lumine screamed. “Oh my god I’m so proud of you. See I told you you’ll win.”

I won? …

Suddenly you felt weak, head spinning, vision blurring. “I won?” you muttered.

The rest of your friend group came running towards you too, and security didn’t even bother to try and stop the two kids barreling for you. Hutao smashed into you, one hand holding a small bouquet of flower. Aether slowed to a jog and brought out a spray bottle, showering cool water on you.

“Congratulations my dear!” Hutao cheered. “We all fucking told you you’ll win this. Dinner is on me tonight.”

“You did great,” Aether said, handing you a bottle of water.

The crowd of people was still cheering for your victory, and cheered even louder when you held up your hard-earned trophy high in air for everyone to see. You laughed, a tear of happiness rolling down your cheek.

I won.

>>—<<

“Aw damn,” Venti groaned. “I was so sure green would win…”

“Xiao got lucky today,” Heizou laughed, handing Xiao a five-dollar bill. “Twenty dollars and a free dessert.”

“Say, where are we going out tonight?” Kazuha asked, also handing Xiao a five.

“Thanks…” Xiao muttered. He wasn’t even paying attention to the group's conversation. His interest was driven onto somewhere else— someone else.

For some odd reason, Xiao couldn’t stop staring at you.

Enveloped by your friends in a giant bear hug, the trophy glinting under the stadium lights, you stood there, crying and laughing.

Xiao smiled softly to himself.

The second time Xiao saw you was during the week before midterms, and at that time, you looked like a mess.

You were in Angels Hall with your friends, paper upon papers scattered all over the table. The coffee you had ordered was left to the side was half drank, long gone cold.

“I can’t,” you whined. “This is so.”

Lumine sat next to you, head buried in her arms. “I agree.”

“How about we finish this unit then we go, because I don’t think I can’t last any longer either,” Aether said. “Right Tao?”

“It’s been 2 hours, not sure how much longer I can go for,” Hutao mumbled. “I feel like shit.”

You straightened up. “Let’s go back to our dorm. None of us here wants to be here any longer.”

“I second that,” Lumine said, downing the last bits of her drink in one go.

Hutao began organizing all the papers into a neat stack before stuffing it into her bag, regardless of if it wrinkles. The waiter dropped by and handed you the bill with a forced smile.

“Let’s go,” Hutao said, getting up from her seat. Lumine was already by the exit, impatiently tapping her foot.

You set down a twenty-dollar bill and left with the rest of the group, the twinkling of the silver bell indicating your departure.

Xiao couldn’t help but feel disappointed, watching you leave.

Kazuha tapped his arm. “Xiao, are you good? You seem distracted.”

“He’s probably got his mind on someone,” Heizou said.

“Xiao? Liking someone? No way,” Venti gasped.

“Can you all just shut the fuck up and focus?” Scaramouche growled, already fed up. “Especially you, Venti.”

“Aha, sorry…”

The third time Xiao ran into you was at the coffee place you worked at. He had just randomly chosen a cafe to get a breather, a break from his work and from the rain. He had figured that this tiny cafe was the best place to enjoy his time and peace. It was during the evening, when there were just barely any more costumers coming in.

You stood behind the cashier, a bright smile plastered on your face.

“An iced black coffee,” he told you.

It hasn’t even been two minutes after he had paid, and his order was already ready to go.

“…thank you,” Xiao managed out. He quickly turned away and found a seat in the corner of the store, the tip of his ears already tinted red. There was no way he could return that bright grin of yours without turning into a tomato.

The way you smiled at him… the way you looked with your hair tucked behind your ear. In his eyes, you’re the literal embodiment of the ethereal celestial being send from the skies above. He had never felt like this towards someone ever before, this was a first for him. But all the signs made it clear— the way his heart pounds abnormally fast, the way his words get caught up in his throat, the way the butterflies flutter around in his stomach— it was all enough for Xiao to know that he had developed a crush for you.

No. He does not have a crush on you, he just merrily found you attractive. That is all there is to that.

“… single, aren’t you?”

Xiao snapped his head up, thoughts interrupted. He glanced over at the customer who was leaned over the counter, trying to act cool. The way your shoulders were tensed up, the stutters in your words— it was clear you were uncomfortable with his sudden advancements.

“Why don’t you leave her the fuck alone?” he snarled, caught off guard by his harsh tone.

What transpired afterwards was history, but ever since that incident, he has been coming in every day. By then, you had recognized Xiao as a regular in the new cafe you worked at. Every day he would appear exactly at 3:00pm, and order the same thing— a black coffee, and leave minutes before you get off your shift.

You found it endearing, how a mere stranger watched over you so protectively. Although your friends begged to differ.

“Pretty boy?” Lumine snorted. “Oh please, what if he’s going to kidnap you one day?”

“As if,” you retorted. “I trust my guts.”

“crystalline, frosted confessions— winter.”

“Black—”

“— coffee. Got it right here,” you said, holding up the cup of freshly brewed coffee. “As per usual, that’ll be 2.35$. But since you’ve been a regular here for so long, I’m cutting the price down to 1.75$.”

“Thank you,” Xiao handed you two dollars and took the coffee, where then he proceeded to sit in the same spot he had been sitting in for past few weeks.

The store was completely empty expect for Xiao. As expected, you thought. Nobody would want to be out when the weather had predicted an snowstorm. Flurries of snowflakes bend and shaped by the wind covered the outside world in a softened blanket of white.

“It’s snowing pretty hard outside,” you thought out loud, elbow resting against the marble counter. “Are you cold? I could turn the heater up.”

“It’s fine,” Xiao replied. “Why are you still working today anyways? It’s snowing really hard out there.”

“Who’s going to run the store if not me?” you laughed. “The boss offered me a pay raise if I stayed to attend the store today. Obviously, I can’t turn that offer down.”

Xiao gave a hum of acknowledgment. “I’ll drive you back to campus. It’s too dangerous for you to walk out there alone.”

His words caught you by surprise. Never would you have thought Xiao would be offering to drive you back to the dorms.

“How kind of you, thank you Xiao,” you said. “I’ll be closing down in maybe a couple minutes. Then we can go.”

Hail had slowly begun to mix in with the snow. The tiny ice fragments pattered against the window, creating a clicking sound. You began cleaning up— there wasn’t much to be done, but you still liked the store to be spotless before you leave. Setting the dried towel by the sink, you took off your apron and hung it in the back.

Xiao finished up his drink and threw the disposable cup away, making sure to grab napkins to wipe the table clean.

By the time he had cleaned his table, you were ready to leave. Xiao narrowed his eyes.

“Where’s your jacket?” he asked.

“Oh, I forgot mines,” you said, pushing open the door. You shivered at the cold blast of wind. “Left in a hurry this morning... ha-ha.”

Xiao bit down on his lips. “Can’t be helped,” he sighed, walking out the door.

You locked the store and flipped over the OPEN sign to CLOSED. “Let’s go,” you said. Your nose was already turning red.

“Here,” Xiao muttered, draping his jacket over you. “I… don’t want you to get sick.”

You felt your face heat up and your heart race. "I— thank you, Xiao.”

Xiao turned away and began walking towards his car. His heart was pounding mercilessly against his chest as he unlocked the door to his sleek black Toyota. You stood by him, snuggled up in his jacket, and stepped into the car when Xiao opened the door for you.

What a gentleman, you thought to yourself.

The car reverberated to life as Xiao turned the engine on, and with it, the heater was turned on too. A blast of warm air surrounded you, and your body relaxed, taking in the warmth.

You felt yourself slowly dozing off as Xiao drove through the storm. You weren’t even tired, perhaps it was the environment that had lulled you into a dreamlike state.

Time passed by slowly, and when Xiao had parked by your dorm, you were fast asleep. He almost didn’t want to wake you.

“Hey,” he whispered, nudging your shoulder.

“Five more minutes…” you mumbled, shrugging his hand away. “Five…”

He stifled a laugh. “We’ve arrived at your dorm. I think I see Lumine up there.”

You snapped open your eyes and sat up straight. “Where?!”

The laugh he had been keeping in bubbled out. You looked at him, eyes half lidded, confusion written all over your face.

“We’re at your dorm, let’s go, the storms getting worse,” Xiao said, getting out the car. He jogged over to the other side and opened the door before you could. “Careful there, the roads iced up.”

Your movements were sluggish as you got out from the car, grabbing onto Xiao for support. “Sorry,” you mumbled.

You felt Xiao wrap one arm around your waist to support your weight, slowly guiding you through the path and up the stairs to your dormitory. The harsh wind that slapped you in the face was enough of a wakeup call, and you fumbled to fish your keys out your pocket.

Pushing the key into the lock, you turned back to face Xiao— but he was already down the stairs by his car. He caught your eye, and you hastily gave him a wave before disappearing indoors, where the warmth awaited you. “Thank you,” you mouthed, and the door closed behind you.

Xiao stayed outside your dormitory for a little bit, watching the shadows of your friends engulfing you through the sheer curtains that fluttered around. An unmistakable feeling of heat rushed throughout his body, and he smiled to himself, then sneezed.

>>—<<

“Wait, wait, WAIT,” Lumine grabbed your sleeve and pushed you onto your bunk. “You got home awfully fast today, and whose jacket is that?”

Hutao walked out from the bathroom, a towel slung over her shoulders. “I think I’ve seen that jacket somewhere before.”

“Oh, wait isn’t that Xiao’s jacket?” Aether piped in, setting his headset aside and spinning around to face the two of you.

“That’s where I’ve seen it,” Hutao said with a snap of her fingers. “That emo guy that everyone seems to be obsessed with, I’ve seen him walking around campus several times in that same jacket.”

“That emo guy,” Aether repeated. “Isn’t he your cousin?”

“Did something happen between you and Xiao?” Lumine asked, eyes glittering with excitement.

You laughed nervously. “Well yeah, sort of? I mean, he drove me back here…”

Lumine’s eyes went wide open. “Now that’s a first. Oh, girl he definitely likes you.”

“He did it because it was snowing like crazy out there and I didn’t have a jacket with me!”

“Excuses,” Hutao snorted. “I can tell you that Xiao never lets anyone else in his car other than his close friends. I’ve asked him for a ride once and I had to beg for it, EVEN though we were cousins, and I still had to Uber back home.”

Lumine nodded. “Can confirm, I was there to witness it all.”

You shook your head. “There’s no way. Anyways! To celebrate me getting a pay raise, dinners on me tonight!”

“Wooo!” Hutao cheered, throwing on a thick puffer jacket. “Where are we off to?”

>>—<<

“Is he… sick?” Kazuha asked worriedly.

The boys gathered around Xiao’s bed, listening to his coughs and sniffles.

“Leave me be…” Xiao mumbled, pulling his blanket over his head.

“He definitely sounds sick," Heizou commented.

"This is what you get for not wearing a jacket out yesterday... I'd say it's well-deserved." Scaramouche snorted, tossing yet another packet of tissues at Xiao.

"He wasn't wearing a jacket?" Venti echoed, his loud voice traveling from the kitchen into Xiao's room. "Didn't he leave with a jacket though? The green and black one?"

Heizou raised a brow, one hand under his chin. A quizzical look appeared, followed by a know-it-all one. "I think I know where his jacket went," he said, a sly grin dancing on his lips.

"Get the fuck out of my room."

>>—<<

“Tao, whenever you’re able to, can you help me return this jacket to Xiao? I haven’t been able to find him anywhere,” you said, hanging up your bag. Xiao’s black and green jacket hung next to your school bag, a scent of fresh laundry within the fibers.

Hutao popped a piece of gum in her mouth and chewed loudly. “I honestly have no clue where he is. I can help you get in touch with the pests he hangs around though.”

“That’d be lovely,” you replied, shooting Tao a grateful smile.

>>—<<

“Hey Xiao.”

“…”

“Xiaooooo.”

Silence.

Venti sighed in defeat and turned away from Xiao’s room, instead plopping himself down on the couch. Kazuha hummed to himself as he stirred the giant bowl of batter he had in his arms— as far as Venti remembers, he was making chocolate chip cookies. A classic favorite among everyone.

Scaramouche was out of town, called back home for a family emergency. Heizou on the hand, had locked himself in one of the many study cubbies in the campus’s library to study for his upcoming exam. And Xiao— well, he’s passed out sick.

Venti sighed once again, bored out of his mind. He lazily opened up his phone and was greeted by a text from Xiao’s cousin: Hutao.

[5:14pm] Hutao >> u available rn?

>>—<<

“Hey! You must be Venti, right?” you asked, standing up from the park bench you were just sitting on moments ago.

“And you’re the girl that Xiao’s been fawning over I presume,” Venti replied, smiling.

“My name— wait what?”

“Oh, it’s nothing— hey that’s Xiao’s jacket!” Venti pointed to the black jacket draped over your arms. “Right?”

“Yeah, I was hoping you’d help me return this to him,” you said sheepishly.

Venti pressed his hand to his chest. “Oh, I would love to, but I think it’s best if you do it!”

Puzzled by his response, you ask, “Why?”

He sighed dramatically and collapsed onto the bench, feigning heartache. ���Well you see, poor Xiao had locked himself up in his room, burning up a fever— and wants nothing to do with me at the moment. If I were to try and enter his room, I’m afraid I won’t see the light of day again.”

You blinked at Venti’s performance, slowly soaking in the information given. Does Xiao hate him? Why? You wanted to ask. “He’s sick?” was what came out your mouth instead.

“Terribly so.”

>>—<<

“Xiao?” you called out softly.

A shuffle was heard as the sickly student attempted to sit upright. You quickly entered the room and closed the door behind you, rushing over to Xiao’s side the moment the door clicked shut.

“Hey,” you said, smiling. “Hope you don’t mind the intrusion.”

Xiao blinked groggily, fighting against the sleep medication he had taken hours ago. “What are you”— he sneezed “doing here?”

“Came here to return your jacket,” you replied, draping his jacket over his pink gaming chair. An odd expression crossed your face, but you didn’t speak of it.

Xiao managed to sit upright despite being in absolute agony. His head throbbed painfully, an unfortunate side effect of his medication. You placed a hand over the small of his back and helped him ease into a more comfortable position. "Easy there Xiao..." you murmured. "Don't strain yourself too much."

"I'll be fine," he said. "You shouldn't be here— you know, with me being sick and all. You might get sick too."

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. "You're the one here sick, and you're worried about me? Besides, I didn't see you for the past week and I miss your presence."

There was a tease in your voice, and Xiao caught it. Yet he couldn't control the way his heart sped up. He cleared his throat, adverting his body away from where you sat. Perhaps being sick isn't so bad after all, he could at least use the fever as an excuse as to why his face is burning a scarlet red.

You felt your smile grow bigger seeing his reaction. "Don't turn around now— we've known each other for so long now, it's weird being somewhere without you." You were confident, almost too confident with your words. But with graduation so close, you knew that there wasn't much time left for you to spill your feelings. It was like gambling, gambling time and memories away.

Outside, the sun began to dip below the horizon. Snow resting upon the frail branch of the young oak crumbled when a chunk of ice shattered against the trunk.

“Heizou!” the shrill voice of Venti shrieked.

Either you win, or you'll lose it all.

Xiao remained silent, unsure of how to process your words. He wanted to believe everything you said, but some part of himself won't allow him to. For all he knows, you could just be tugging on his heartstrings, playing it like a sick sort of a puppet show. But... he glanced at you. You weren't looking at him anymore, instead your attention was fixated on the scene happening outside his window.

The way the sunset created a golden aura around you made you look absolutely breathtaking, hitting all the right angles in all the right way. He didn't know there was a way for you to be any prettier than you already are. Would he have gotten to see you like this if he wasn't sick?

"Xiao." the seriousness laced with your tone made him tense up. You pushed yourself away from the window ledge and turned to face him. “Xiao,” you repeated. “Can I tell you something?”

Your heart was pounding. A year worth of buildup— he’s seen you at your worst, as you had seen him, how much longer are you able to hold it in for? There’s nothing you could really hide from this man; he was bound to find out about your crush sooner or later.

Xiao took in a deep breath. “Go on,” he croaked out. He wiped his sweaty palms on his blanket.

You bit the insides of your cheek. The words are at the tip of your tongue, but that’s the furthest they’re willing to go. “I— fuck I can’t say it,” you groaned, turning back to face the window.

"No," he said. "No, tell me."

You bit the insides of your cheek. The words are at the tip of your tongue, but that’s the furthest they’re willing to go. “I— fuck I can’t say it,” you groaned, turning back to face the window.

"No," he said. "No, tell me."

That intense voice you knew all too familiar— now you know that there is no backing out. Xiao's stubbornness had been a constant pain in the ass for you, yet it was also a part of him that you found endearing.

"You promise this won't change anything?" you asked, voice small.

A creak followed by a shuffle, and you felt Xiao's arm wrap around your waist. His disheveled hair tickled against your cheek as he rests his head upon your shoulder. '"Nothing will change, I promise," he muttered.

Touch. In no way was this unusual for the two of you. But this time, it felt new. In this stifling environment, where the air was tense, everything feels unfamiliar. Xiao's touch felt unfamiliar. What if this ruins it all?

Fuck it.

"I really like you, you know that, Xiao?" you whispered.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment, and you felt your heart drop. This is it. The signs point to it all, it tells you that Xiao is the one, yet you can't help but think otherwise. Overthinking has always been a bad habit of yours.

After minutes of painful awkward silence (it was only a few seconds), Xiao replied. "I know."

"I really like you too, [name]. I've liked you since last year, since the moment I saw you on the field for the annual sports festival. And I fell deeper in love with you over the course of the year, seeing you around campus, at the cafe you worked— your very presence seems to bring comfort. I wanted to confess for so long, you know? But I didn't, I feared that it would've tampered with whatever we already had going on."

he paused to clear his throat.

"I like— no, I love you."

Through the window, the view of the night sky was in perfect sight. The stars above twinkled, and flashing by for just a second, was a shooting star.

Even the stars have spoken.

✩ ·┆ navigation

notes—

— the number of times i accidentally typed ‘ciao’ instead of ‘xiao’ is diabolical

© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate

[magnoliahwrites]

Lean On Me (Don’t Knock Me Over)

or: harry is a touring musician and you're here to interview him

feat: childhood friendship, flashbacks, friends to enemies to lovers,mention of panic attack/anxiety/puking

note: this is part one of a three-shot. Side note: I made up names for harry’s band, it’s an up and coming pop punk band so there’s that

Much like most things in life, when the paper slid through your desk, you immediately shoved it under the outgoing mail box.

anything that causes you stress immediately went there, a future problem for yourself.

It wasn't until the night before the show, when your manager turned best friend, Cindy sat in front of you tapping her new manicure on the desk in front of you that you even remembered it.

"I just don't see the big deal," she huffs, stopping the tapping of her nails long enough to push her blonde hair out of her eyes, "like, you two were kids. He probably doesn't even remember you. And besides, I have three people lined up who would literally kill you for this chance."

You groan, resisting the urge to fling your body on the floor and ahve a full body temper tantrum.

Instead, you act like an adult and throw a mini fit, throwing your head back and shoving the papers away from you.

"he'll remember me." you groan, rubbing your temples, "It was a small town."

"Good," Cindy shrugs, "Make him regret it, or whatever."

she pauses, and her voice drops, some of the hard that radiates off of her melts away for a second.

"I don't see what the big deal is still," she says quietly, "What happened?"

You remember the first time you heard him on the radio.

Driving down a crowded street in Cindy's car (the kind you could never even think of affording) the sun roof down, your hand out the window as the radio blasts, the sun beating down on your hand.

"This is 93.9 playing the hottest hits of the summer! To begin, we have a new single from Kennedy Curse, sure to get stuck in your head. They're new to the scene, but singer-"

Cindy all but squeals, leans forward to turn the dial on the radio up louder, "I love this band. l've been trying to get an interview with them for weeks.”

You snort as you drum your thumbs on the steering wheel, "Can't imagine it would be hard to get an interview with them-"

"Shh!" She hushes you, leans forward and turns the volume up until the car shakes under you.

"Chipped paint, Carol's gonna turn into dust-"

it was a reflex, a knee jerk reaction, something you couldn't stop. before you even knew what you were doing, you were leaning forward in your seat, slamming your hand against the volume button, immediately a silence falls over the two of you.

Cindy knows you've mentioned in passing an ex boyfriend, a singer, but haven't really elaborated on it. Now, it seems like you don't need to.

"So you'll do it?"

Cindy is all but squirming in her seat as she brings you back to the current.

The sigh is all the confirmation Cindy knows, letting out an ear piercing squeal again, "You won't regret it, i promise!"

She gets up to make her an escape, mentions something about transportation-

"I'll do it, but there has to be rules in place-" You're rubbing your temples, a headache already on the horizon, but Cindy isn't listening, long gone as she stops everyone in the hallway to mention the interview with the Kennedy Curse.

Backstage, harry fixes his hair in a broken mirror.

Something about ten years of bad luck, but he rations that's the problem for the person who broke it, not him-

A stage hand, over worked and underpaid, sticks his head backstage: "harry, Ten minutes.

Someone's here to see you-"

And the show is on.

The smirk finds his way to the corner of his lips, and it's game on. the harry who had a panic attack in the back room five minutes ago is long gone, definitely didn't puke into the garbage can earlier because of the nerves. Instead, it's now replaced by the harry he wants everyone to see; confident, cocky, bold-

"Fans already-"

And he rounds the corner and almost hits you with the door.

he speaks first. A reflex, like he's been searching for the name for months or years, waiitng for it to fall onto his lips again-

he speaks before he can stop himself, before he can hate himself for it he speaks before he can stop himself, before he can hate himself for it.

"Birdie."

The low whistle follows, some bird card be always associated with the nickname, for you always singing with him-even if you insisted you were bad.

it falls flat, feels wrong.

Not the cute nickname it was before, when you two would lie in the shared two sized mattress, harry’s feet falling off the edge of the bed, the sheets thrown over both of your heads for security;

“Birdie," he'd say, his voice low, eyelids heavy. even half asleep, the whistle followed, "I promise, to keep your side of the bed warm, always."

Under the sheets was vows between the two of you, the sillier the better, most of the time, but the hushed voices always told the truth.

Instead, you spoke back, his fingers over your lips, calloused from the non stop practicing, the yanking the garage door open at all hours of the night to practice: "I could find you in a crowd."

He laughs; it's lazy and low, like you both have all the time in the world, and he opens his mouth to say something about his height, but it lays heavy in the air as he kisses the crown of your head:

"And i'll always find you, Birdie."

Seeing him is jarring, to say the least.

The last visit was less than good, yelling and tears (from both of you) things said in the heat of the moment that keeps you both up and tossing and turning-

"It's just my normal name now, thanks." You say quickly, hoping it's dark enough backstage that he can't see the red spread across your face.

"Right," he nods, smirks as he leans against the wall, crosses his arms over his chest, "Well, birdie, I gotta say, you got a lot of nerve to wanna hear me sing after you tossed us into the gutter."

You snort, "Still the victim. i see nothings changed."

"Hilarious," he laughs without humor, takes a step toward you, eyes narrowed, that stupid fucking smirk still pulls at the side of his lips, "I see you're still following me around, hm?"

"God, I can't say I missed this. You're still an insufferable asshole-"

"An asshole you paid to see. So tell me, birdie, which of my songs do you like, hm? Still-"

You want to smack the smirk off his face. You dig your fingernails into your palm into you're sure they're going to bleed, leaving little half crescent moons in the middle of your palms, the same ones he use to study, trace over and commit to memory, kiss them better.

In some sick way, you were hoping you'd see each other and he'd apologize, come home-

"I'm just here for the interview," You shake the VIP lanyard around your neck in his face, "And then you never have to see me again."

His eyes dart to the lanyard and back to you, and for a second, he looks almost lost, like something hangs in the air that he wants to say-

"You have five minutes."

You snort, take the pencil from behind your ear,

"I'll make it two. We won't act like these are some deep songs of yours or anything-"

A local nobody band is opening, the drums are heavy and loud backstage, and the ponding begins the second you open your mouth, like it's planned.

harry leans in closer, grabs you by your elbow,

"Let's make a deal, birdie."

You act like you don't hear the low whistle fall out after the nickname.

"Listen-"

he cuts you off, "You listen to us and i'll do the interview, no bitching, after the show. we can go to the bus-"

the look you throw him is irritated and he huffs, holds his hands in the air, "Fine. I'll take you to a fuckin' restraaunt. I'll be on my best behavior, i'll have your manager eating out of your hand after this interview. Scouts honor."

He makes a show of crossing over his heart, holds his hand open in the air.

The smirk never leaves his face, even when your eyes narrow as he sets his hand between you two.

"Deal, birdie?"

You don't speak, eyes narrowed, but your hand slides into his like it never left.

It feels like you're making a deal with the devil.

[freefallfiction]

File: Masterlist (Criminal Minds)

Last Reviewed: 5/16/2024

Originally posted by tinywolfcoffee

rules No Pedoph!l!c Content No Minor Interaction Send Requests Through The 'Asks' Channel Fem!Reader Unless Requested Otherwise Don't Like Don't Read Mind The Warnings Have Fun

S. Reid

United In Grief

How long can two hurting people hold on with only love keeping them together?

Late Night Concessions

Someone broke into your place; it was just past midnight and the rain was near deafening, but you were sure that was the sound of your front door window being shattered. With your phone on silent and Spencer’s number already dialed, you can only hope they’re here for your purse and tv and not the hiding girl beneath the bed.

Re-Run Special

Spencer finds love with a genius hedonistic girl who turns his world upside down, but their clash of personalities can leave him feeling a little left behind.

Play Your Cards Right

Y/n always loved Yu-Gi-Oh. From watching the show as a kid to trading and playing the card game, it’s always been a part of her life-- she should have known her boyfriend would try to learn it for her.

Coffee, My Secret Admirer

He had been wanting to try out the coffee shop on west and third for a while now, and he finally had the chance. He never thought he’d be caught up in a romance when a beautiful girl hopped over the counter and took his order, nor did he think they’d turn into not-so-secret admirers of one another.

Scale of Mental Stability

When a string of murders pick off where a long-arrested serial killer left off, the FBI’s first stop is the children of the cursed family. The problem? The only person who hates the man more than the son they arrested, is the daughter who’s out for blood.

My Hermes (Sending Me Letters From Above)

A coincidental meeting years ago leaves Spencer enthralled by a voice heard in the most unfortunate of circumstances. Y/n couldn't forget the man who gave her the best gift of all, the phone call of a lifetime.

The Seven Stages Of Loving You

A seven part series where Spencer falls in love with the BAU’s CI, or, Spencer finds out just how hard it is to build a future with someone constantly attacked by their past.

Absquatulate

Years had passed. Cases opened and closed, books were written and sold, the world spun and spun until... until it didn’t. The world kept moving until three am on Halloween night-- six shots of whiskey deep-- the world crashed down. 

A. Hotch

Last Man Standing

No matter what it takes, even as bodies fall all around him and blood paints the streets, he will come home to you.

Just Like The Movies

It was a rare sight even before what will henceforth be known only as 'the incident' for Aarons smile to stretch so wide his eyes crinkled in a boyish manner that everyone believed was lost to time. It must have been a miracle.

The Egg Crusher

Serial killers in their own backyard had a tendency to start fires within the team that burn hotter than usual; one targeting pregnant women was practically begging them to shut him down. Aaron had begged her to take off work and finally start maternity leave. The worst part was she listened; the constant messages to his work email that set of ‘nesting’ alarms in his head had him convinced she had dived head first into it. Then he gets one signed off with the hidden moniker used when one of them gets themselves in trouble.

D. Morgan

Where You Go (I Wanna Go With You)

Derek always believed the job came first; complete the mission however he needed to for the case to close and the rest was simply collateral damage. Even now, when all is said and done, he couldn't say when his priorities shifted.

Where You Go (I Go)

Derek knew what it meant to be a great soldier. He knew how to follow all the rules and take initiative when appropriate; he’d learned these things as a means of survival. Even if the country he serves has dwindled down to one person, he knows to do everything in his power to get to her till his dying breath. (a part two)

Domesticated

The people at work tried to be more encouraging than envious when her boyfriend insists on driving her to and from work some random Tuesday. The imposing figure the man struck was intimidating, yet they all called him her ‘doberman puppy’.

J. Gideon

The Heart

He thought he'd lost it forever; for years it had been pegged as just another thing the horrors of his profession had stolen from him, a risk his mind simply wouldn't allow him to take. He should have known the brain had no power over matters of the heart.

E. Prentiss

Dancing With The Stars

Maybe in another world, when Emily crossed the dimly lit ballroom with a cutting smile and wandering hand, she did it without the mic in her ear.

E. Greenway

Comfort, Come Forth, King Forge

It was a dangerous field; that was all anyone ever said- you're a small girl, they'll eat you alive. For years after the academy she was always a girl first agent second; then she met her.

D. Rossi

Bella, Ciao

He may have chosen the wild life, but his heart remained every faithful in her hands.

These Trembling Hands

He thought it might be over; similar fates have happened to men far more successful than he. A mission gone wrong and they're sent to recovery, a mandates psych eval that already is stamped 'denied' to send him into retirement. He never thought he'd last this long in the first place, and if the pretty psychiatrist was his parting present he'd be a fool to look the gifted horse in the eye.

P. Garcia

Something Lost, Something Gained

It was a gilded reassignment that brought the new liaison to the team; she was, perhaps, the only agent who loathed the idea of being tacked on to the BAU's list of revolving-door members. The Cyber Response Unit had been home ever since the academy, but a single misstep had started the spiral towards madness, better known as the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Hopefully there would be someone on the team that wouldn't inherently know every little secret which had been carefully tucked away.

[seeingivy]

Hi!! Can you do an angsty song fic for “hits different” with Gojo? Love the ts series !!❤️

hits different

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: older brothers best friend!satoru, teenagers being dumb teenagers, drinking, satoru calls reader belle, reader spends a fuck ton of money on toji's credit card

an: HELLO SWEETIE PIE!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DA LOVE IM GLAD YOU'VE BEEN ENJOYING IT SO FAR. this ended up at a 9k so I hope you enjoy pookie

--

present day 

“Are you even listening to anything I’m saying?” he asks, his hands folded across his menu. 

You close your own menu, setting it neatly on top of the plates, as you look over at him - the look in his eyes downright murderous. Granted, sticking your nose in the menu while he was trying to talk to you for the past twenty minutes couldn’t have helped, but he should cut you some slack. You’re really hungry.   

It’s then and there that you see the look, that twitch in his right eye, and know exactly what’s going to happen. Toji Fushiguro, the accountant you’ve been dating for the last six months, is about to break up with you. 

“It’s like you aren’t even paying attention when I talk to you, when I’m trying to sit here and tell you how I’m feeling.” 

“Okay. So tell me how you’re feeling, Toji.” 

He flares his nostrils, exasperated by your response. You thought it was polite. But you’ve been told your tone is downright argumentative, like grating nails on a chalkboard. 

And then Toji lays out his final card, waiting for your broken expression. 

“I’m breaking up with you. You-you and me. We’re done.” 

No broken expression comes. Because you don’t let idiots like Toji think they have power over you, your feelings for even a second. 

“Okay. Well, I still came here to eat dinner so could you pass me the main menu?” 

You give him your best smile, sickly sweet, and it pushes him over the edge. 

“Are you fucking serious? You’re not going to say anything to that? Anything at all? I just broke up with your pathetic ass and you don’t even feel a bit sad about it?” 

You set the menu down again, crossing your wrists against your chest. 

“Do you want me to, Toji? Because I can if you want me to.” 

He gets even more frustrated, standing up at the table to yell his final words before he storms out. 

“Do you know what your problem is, Y/N?” 

“Please enlighten me. I’m dying to know.” 

“You-you’re shit to be around. Literally the most frustrating, agitating, irritating person I’ve ever met. You can’t ever take anything at face value - you just argue and argue because it’s the only thing you know how to do. True love could knock on your door and you’d send it running away with that cold, dark heart in your chest. Because you’re hard to love.” 

You clench your fists under the table, drawing blood against your palms. 

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t as agreeable as you wanted me to be. Surely the secretary you’ve been fucking for the last three months we were dating is a sweeter taste in your mouth than I am.” 

“Wait, what-” 

“If you’re going to fuck another girl while you’re dating me, make sure you don’t butt dial me while you’re doing it, sweetheart.” 

He furrows his brow, ears pink from what you’re sure is embarrassment as he storms off. You turn your head over your neck, lifting your hand to signal Nobara, Megumi, and Itadori to join you at the table. 

They all awkwardly take the empty seats at the table, Itadori immediately reaching for the free bread on the table and Megumi reaching for the bottle of wine. 

“You okay?” Megumi asks, a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

“Toji has this really, really shit habit of leaving his stuff everywhere. His sunglasses, his keys, his wallet.” 

You hold the wallet in the air, Nobara immediately snatching it from your hands and pulling out his credit card. 

“No way.” she says, immediately running through the menu to find the most expensive thing to eat. 

“He’ll cancel it tomorrow. So, we should make the most of it tonight.” you say, the three of them smiling back at you. 

“You know, I’d feel half bad about this but he cheated on you for three months, so I really, really don’t.” Megumi says, ordering another bottle of wine. 

Itadori puts his hand on yours, squeezing once as he asks. 

“Are you sad about it?” 

“Not really.” 

“Oh, come on. She’s heartless. Ever since that idiot she dated from her hometown took her heart and went running with it, she’s been cold ever since.” Kugisaki says, spreading the leftover butter on the bread she just stole from Itadori. 

“Exactly.” you say, smiling at the three of them. 

You tilt the rest of your wine into the back of your throat, the sensation burning as you push it down. 

You hate that after all these years, even the mention of him makes your head spin. 

Satoru. 

--

two years ago 

“Go fuck yourself, Y/N.” 

“Real clever, Getou. You really got me there.” 

Getou immediately knocks you off your chair and starts wrestling with you on the ground - the two of you yanking each other’s arms and pulling each other's legs. 

“Cut your hair, Getou. You look like a hillbilly with that uglyass manbun.” 

“Check your attitude, Y/N. You’re getting bitchier as time goes on.” 

You immediately reach up and grab a fistful of his hair, yanking hard as he elbows you in the eye. And you’re about to punch him straight in the stomach before you feel two arms around your waist, the hold firm, as you fight off the hold. 

“That’s enough from you two, alright?” Satoru says, his voice in your ear sending a shiver down your spine. 

“It’s not enough, Satoru. I need to give him a piece of my mind.” 

“You’re going to give him a piece of your mind with your fist, princess?” 

He finally lets you go, Shoko mimicking his actions as she lets Getou go on the other side of the kitchen. You’re both glaring bloody murder at each other, the stupid look on his ugly face only enraging you more. 

“Quit calling me princess, it’s stupid.” you murmur, lifting your hands up to fix the mess Getou made of your hair. 

“Cmon, Belle. Don’t be like that.” 

You cringe at the nickname, even worse than princess, as the memory comes straight to your mind. Third grade. Halloween Eve. 

You were going to be Cinderella for Halloween - all set with fake glass slippers and a sparkly blue dress and butterfly hair clips. But Getou and Satoru had come home straight from their soccer practice, all muddy and disgusting, and accidentally sat on your costume. 

The pretty blue dress you had saved all your allowance on was ruined and along with it, your hopes of impressing Haibara - the guy that you had a crush on at the time. 

Except Satoru, in his infinite kindness that he’s always shared with you, dragged you to the costume store the day after, his hands wrapped around your waist as he biked the two of you there in the scorching midday October heat. 

“Do you guys have any Cinderella dresses left?” 

“They’re all sold out. We’re so sorry, sir.” 

As the clerk walks away, Satoru turns over to you, a giddy smile on his face. 

“Did you hear that? That lady just called me sir.” 

“Really funny, Satoru.” 

You push him into the stand by the cashier, as you stomp to the other side of the store. You look up at the little catalogs, the sparkly blue dress in the picture with a red “sold out” sign stamped on top of it. He catches up, his hand soft on your shoulder, as he talks. 

“Sorry we messed up your dress, Y/N.” 

You can feel the tears building in your eyes as you start aggressively swiping them away, trying to hide the fact that you were crying in front of Satoru. Knowing him, he was just going to run home and tell Getou so the two of them could laugh at you. 

“No, you’re not. You probably did it on purpose.” 

“We didn’t, I-I swear.” 

“Getou literally told me yesterday that he thought it was stupid I wanted to be a princess for Halloween. That girls like me aren’t princesses, because they have a rotten attitude. He said I should dress up as the Scream instead.” 

You look over at the ghost mask - all elongated and scary - and it only sends more tears running down your face. 

“Hey. You can still be a princess if you want to be.” he says. 

“No, I can’t. Because you guys ruined the costume I already did buy. And I don’t have the money for another one because I-I spent my entire allowance on that costume.” 

Satoru pulls out his wallet and brings his hand down to yours, placing the crisp dollar bills in your hand. You look over at him and he’s smiling - the tips of his ears pink. 

“Now you have money for the costume.” 

“There’s still no costume, dumbass.” 

Satoru drags you down the aisle and points at the sparkly yellow dress, his hand now slung around your shoulder again. 

“They still have this one.” 

“Belle? You want me to be Belle?” 

“You’re more of a Belle than Cinderella. Getou’s right in the sense that you’re a little bit too harsh to be a Cinderella type.” 

“Geez. Thanks Satoru.” 

“But you’re smart, ambitious, headstrong enough to be a Belle. Cinderella’s the type of bitch to always back down from a fight. Belle on the other hand fights for what she wants, like you.” 

You look over at him and smile, your heart pounding in your chest as the two of you biking back to the house with the sparkly yellow dress in the bag in between you guys. 

“Just don’t fight to date a literal animal like Belle, okay? That’s bestiality.” 

“Shut up, Satoru.” 

You feel a hand on your head, shaking hard, and grounding you back in the moment. And at your irritation at Getou, who's still hurling insults at you from the other side of the room. 

“She started it, Shoko.” he says. 

“No, I didn’t. You’re the dumbass who-” you start. 

“I’m so fucking sick of you, Y/N. You’re always fucking nagging me in some way or another. You know, I heard you crying the other day about how you’re the only girl in your class who's never had a guy like you. Maybe if you took a look in the fucking mirror you’d realize why. You’re insufferable to be around.” 

You can feel the tears welling in your eyes - hot and angry - as you bolt straight out the door and down the street. You can faintly hear the three of them calling for you, but you reach straight for the bike on the curb and go as far as you can. 

You make your way five blocks down from your house to eventually stop at the lake, resting the bike against the dock before you walk down. You take your shoes off and dip your feet in, watching the sun fall behind the water and the sky turn brilliant, beautiful shades of pink, orange, and yellow. 

And when dark blue starts creeping in, you lay back against the dock and watch the stars trickle into the night sky, hundreds of tiny sparkling lights. Except your view of the sky is then obscured by Satoru’s face, upside down from your vantage point. 

“Hi Belle.” 

“Screw off.” 

He sits down, taking his own shoes off and dipping his feet into the water to lie down next to you. 

“Did you have to take my bike when you ran off? Yours was two feet away from it.” 

“Closest one. Cry about it, Satoru.” 

You both sit in silence, save for the sound of your feet splashing in the water as Satoru breaches the topic. 

“Never had a guy like you, huh?” 

“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that? First, you watch Getou literally rip me a new one for no reason and now you’re here to rub it in my face?” 

“You know that wasn’t what I was doing. Have I ever made fun of you like that?” 

You sit up, running your hands through your hair, as you look down at the water, your leg sending ripples far beyond. You swallow hard, the tears rising to your eyes again. 

“No, Satoru. I haven’t had a guy like me like that. I’m the only girl going into senior year who hasn’t been kissed by a guy.” you whisper, the confession making you turn red with embarrassment. 

Satoru sits up, scooting closer to you so your knees are knocking each other, as you both look down at the water. 

“So why’s that a big deal, Y/N? You’ve never cared about what people think, let alone men. I mean, you’re basically a misandrist at this point.” 

You smile, looking over at his blue eyes, almost indiscernible in the dark of the night. 

“It’s a big deal because I want someone to like me. I-I know that you all think I’m mean and I argue all the time and-and whatever, maybe it’s true. But, I want someone to like me. You know, butterflies, first kisses, someone who saves all their secret jokes for you.” 

He puts his hand flat against your forehead, like he’s checking your temperature. 

“You feeling okay? Who are you and what have you done with, Y/N?” 

You shake his hand off, rolling your eyes at him, as you both laugh into the night. 

“You’re so mean, Satoru. I hate you.”

He lifts one of his legs out of the water and turns to his side, so that he’s facing you. You mimic his motions, the look on your face bored as you look over at him. 

“I’m going to tell you something, and it’s going to wound my ego a little bit, so don’t tell anyone okay?” 

“You with a wounded ego? I would live for the day.” 

He lightly nudges you before turning back down to the water, swishing the water with his legs. 

“What you said isn’t true, Belle.” 

“What part?” 

“About going into highschool and not having a guy like you.” 

“That guy who chased me around in first grade doesn’t count because he literally thought I was-” 

He brings his hands down on your face, squishing your cheeks so hard that you can’t get another word out. His eyes are closed, his face only a few feet from yours. 

“Princess, I really, really love it when you argue with me like that but can you please just let me finish?” he whispers, the words sending a shiver down your spine. 

You nod as he lets go, giving you a satisfied smile. He turns his head back to the water, leaning over the dock.

“That guy in first grade did like you. And I like you too.”  

He looks over and smiles and it makes your blood burn. You lift your hands to cover your pink face, the implication of the entire thing making your stomach burn with anxiety, embarrassment, and the gross, mushy gushy feelings you’ve had for Satoru for years. For the boy who always came to your defense when you’re fighting Getou, always came to your aid when you were crying, and the only, only person you’ve never argued with. 

“So quit crying about it, okay? My type has always been girls like you.” 

“Girls like me?” 

“Argumentative.” 

You nod as Satoru stands up, holding his hand out. And ignore the pounding in your chest when his skin touches yours. You both walk your bikes - you pushing his bike and him pushing yours back down the blocks as you cheese at each other in the dark, sharing a secret smile before Satoru ducks back into Getou’s room. 

--

three months later 

You push up on the counter, swirling the cup of lemonade in your hand as you watch everyone mill around the party. 

Your parents went out of town on a business trip. Getou throws the biggest party of the summer. And specifically tells you to stay in your room, because no one likes freshmen at a party. 

Yet here you are, drinking lemonade and watching everyone mill around the party. Getou’s trying too hard to hit on a girl way older than him and Shoko and Utahime are so blatantly flirting that its giving you physical pain to watch them pine the way they are any longer. 

But there’s one person you haven’t seen. Satoru. 

He should have been back from his family trip to Tokyo for the summer since school was starting next week and there’s no way that he would miss anything that Getou and Shoko planned. 

Even the thought of him makes your heart race, his swift admission of his feelings for you that were all but unrequited right before he left. You feel a tap on your shoulder, throwing you out of your thoughts.

“Hey. Can you hand me a cup?” 

You halfheartedly smile as you reach over, handing her a cup from behind you. She gives you a smile as she swirls through the random potion Getou was serving - a dark purple color. You’re sure there’s an unfathomable amount of liquor mixed in and that it tastes disgusting. 

“You want some?” 

“I’m good. Getou poisoned that for all I know.” you mutter, which elicits a laugh from her. 

“Interesting guy. He’s cute, right?” 

You gag, the thought making the lemonade you just drank roll over in your stomach. 

“Disgusting. He’s my older brother.” 

She laughs, pushing up on the counter to sit with you and smiles. 

“My bad. He’s ugly, downright horrendous.” 

“Thank you.” 

You smile as you look over at her, her eyes scanning the mess of people in front of you two. 

“Oh shit. Wait, you’re Y/N, right? Satoru was talking about you.” 

And any good feeling you have is now replaced with a green, jealous monster. And that part of you - the one that argues, the one that feels bitter, anger so powerfully is fighting its way out. 

“Y-yeah. How do you know Satoru?” 

“I don’t. I just met him upstairs. I almost puked in your room but he stopped me, helped me to the bathroom, and held my hair for a while while I threw up.” 

“He’s a real nice guy, isn’t he?” you say, the sarcasm dripping from you voice. 

Of course the asshole shows up to your house and flirts with another girl in your bedroom. Typical. 

“Yeah. Cute too.” 

Just then, Satoru and Getou walked up to you - with complete opposite expressions on their faces. Satoru is shining like the sun, his cheeks tinted pink which you’re sure is from drinking. And Getou’s glaring at you like there’s no tomorrow, his forehead scrunched up in irritation. 

“Y/N.” 

“Getou.” 

“What are you drinking?” 

“Lemonade.” 

Getou snatches the cup from your hand and sets it down and by the look on his face, you know he’s about to start a fight with you. 

“Are you fucking dense? That’s not lemonade, dumbass.” 

“Do you think I was born yesterday, idiot? I took it from the unopened bottle in the fridge.” 

“You shouldn’t be here right now. You’re too young to be here.” 

“You’re one year older than me, Getou. And don’t throw a party in my house if you don’t want me here.” 

Satoru puts a hand on Getou’s shoulder, whispering something in his ear until he gives you one last glare and walks away. Satoru gives you a big smile but before he can talk, the girl from before cuts him off. 

“Do you want to dance now? I promise I got all my vomit out earlier so I won’t throw up this time.” 

She gives him a big smile, and you swear Satoru’s considering it by the way he pauses and looks at her, which is enough said for you. You push up off the counter, telling them you’ll be right back and run off to the lake again, this time stealing Getou’s bike from the curb. 

You’re pushing your legs so hard that they’re hurting, the tears biting cold against your skin from how fast you’re going in the middle of the night. And when you make it to the dock, you throw his bike against the grass and angrily kick your shoes off as you start taking your clothes off. 

Is it a good idea to go skinny dipping in the middle of the night, alone? No. But is every human person that would come to this park at the party? Yes. 

Which is the only reason you take the plunge and stare up at the moon, a tiny silver crescent in the sky. You hear a splash behind you after a few minutes and are met with Satoru, wet hair matted on his forehead. 

“Find your own lake, weirdo.” 

“You know. You shouldn’t skinny dip in public. People could see you.” 

You look over to his pile of clothes and shoes, neatly folded in the pile next to yours. 

“Same goes for you, pervert.” 

You roll your eyes at him as you cross your hands across your chest, turning to your back so you don’t have to look at him. He’s faster than you are, because suddenly he’s floating right in front of you, inches from your face. 

“Did I hurt your feelings, princess?”  

“Quit calling me that. It’s disgusting.” 

He brings his hands to your face, pushing away the tangled wet mess of hair on your shoulders. 

“You like it when I call you that.” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“Yes, you do, Belle.” 

“Satoru.” 

“I’m not saying my piece till you say yours. And you want to hear mine, so talk.” 

You take a deep breath as you look at his face - all calm and blank faced like he didn’t just do the biggest asshole move he could have. 

“You’re a dick, you know that? First of all, you tell me all this shit about how you like me right before you leave. And then when you come back, the first thing I see is you talking to another girl? You were holding her hair in the bathroom, fondling god knows what in my bedroom and now you want to come here and skinny dip with me? I am not some consolation prize you get to have because she was bored of those ugly pool noodle dance moves you have and don’t ever think for a second that I will be.” 

You finish, your chest heaving and a shiver running across your body from the cold water. And instead of a sincere, kind-hearted apology, an acknowledgement of what he did - Satoru Gojo is laughing in your face. 

You reach forward to smack his face and he stops your hand in the air, tangling his fingers with yours. 

“You’re so ridiculous, you know that?” 

“You’re so fucking r-” 

“Fondling? Pool noodle? Where do you even come up with this stuff?” 

He brings his hands up to your cheeks and leans your head forward, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead. You can feel your head short circuiting at the sensation, your arms tingling from how close he is. 

“You’re so, so ridiculous you know that? I’m never going to get tired of you.” he whispers, the words making your hair stand on their ends. 

“What-you can’t just say that and-” 

“Why do you think I was in your room?” 

“What?” 

“I was in your room, because I was looking for you. And I thought I was being nice by stopping that girl from puking all over your sheets - because I know you hate laundry and Getou isn’t going to do it for you - so I took her to the bathroom.” 

You can feel the embarrassment rushing to your face for misreading the situation entirely, taking the palms of your hands and rubbing them into your eye sockets. He laughs as he tangles his hands around your wrists, placing them around his own neck. 

“Still the only senior who hasn’t been kissed yet?” 

“Huh?” 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said. When I saw you last. Are you still the only senior who hasn’t been kissed yet?” 

“Oh. Oh, yeah. But I-” 

“Good.” 

He leans forward, tangling his hands around your waist as he presses his warm lips to yours, his hands squeezing you as he laughs into your mouth. You don’t have much to compare it to, but by the way he’s hanging off your lips, you can tell he’s eager. Way too eager - to be kissing you of all things. 

“Satoru.” 

“Hm?” 

“I like you too.” 

His face breaks out into a smile, so big that it makes you smile too. And when he cups his hand around your face again to kiss the tip of your nose, you can feel your insides screaming. For him. 

“No telling Getou. He’s going to kill me, okay?” 

“As if. He literally hates me, he’d be glad if-” 

“No. He can’t know. You-you’re his little sister. If he finds out I even looked at you this way, he-he’d end me where I stand. Trust me, Belle. If I break my promise, he'll never talk to me again.” 

“What promise?” 

“When we were little. He made me promise I wouldn’t like you.” 

“And yet here you are. Naked in a lake with me.” 

“You like to argue. I like to break rules. We all have our vices, princess.” 

You lean into his touch again, pressing your lips against his, as the moon shines a bright light on the two of you in the dark. 

--

four months later 

You and Getou awkwardly stand in the kitchen, by the open bottles of champagne, as you both secretly circle the glasses behind your back. Getou has his moments - and this is one of them. When your parents put you on display like shiny trophies for their coworkers, bragging about how smart the two of you are.

“You decided where you’re going yet?” 

“Tokyo or Kyoto, Toto.” 

“Toto. Ew. You haven’t called me that since we were little, idiot.” 

He brings his hand around your shoulder, tucking you into his arm as you lean against his shoulder, smiling. After Getou really realized you’d be leaving at the end of the year, he’s been nicer. Granted, he still fights like hell but he has his odd moments. Like this one. 

“You’ll always be Get-toto to me.” 

“I’ll get you a little Totoro plushie before you go, okay? So when those bastards you date fight with you, you’ll always be reminded you have a little bitch in you ready to fight.” 

“Why are you praying for my downfall? You’re not gonna manifest a sweet, warm love for me?” 

“Please. The guy you end up with will be all fireworks. Soft fireplace love has never been your thing.” 

He ruffles your hair as Satoru walks up, his tie loosened already. He gives you a smile and then shakes hands with Getou, the three of you leaning against the granite countertops, watching your parents mingle through the crowd. 

“D’you pick yet? Because Tokyo’s the right choice, Belle.” 

“I’m still thinking, Satoru.” 

“C’mon. Imagine it - you joining me and Getou in Tokyo. It would be really fun.” 

Satoru’s just trying to piss you off. He knows that you’ve already picked Tokyo, because it means you don’t have to long distance date anymore. No more driving up to see each other in between, getting pulled away from each other by the constraints of time or distance or really anything else. 

One of the smaller girls at the party tugs the end of your dress, whispering in her ear that she wants warm milk, which you happily oblige with. Satoru and Getou stay in their spots as you start rummaging through the kitchen, picking out a little glass and warming up the milk for her. 

“Honey?” 

“Yes, love?” Satoru responds, turning his gaze over to you. 

You feel your eyes widen and Satoru’s face turn red as he looks over at you, realizing you were asking the girl if she wanted honey in her milk and not calling him. You both look over to Getou, who has a very strange look on his face that you can’t really discern. 

Fuck. 

You hand the girl her milk and stand farthest away from Satoru, giving Getou a weak smile as you all stare at the party again. 

“Look. It’s Shayla.” 

You and Satoru crane your necks over the other side of the room, one of your neighbors daughters saying hello to all the guests. Which you’re sure you’re getting to get a lecture about now, since you didn’t want to spend the time saying hi to all of them. 

“Remember when you had a really big crush on her, Satoru? Since we were kids?” 

“Uh, yeah. But I was just really little, y’know.” 

You can feel your throat drying as Getou pushes on, each word making your heart burn in your chest. 

“Yeah, but. She was basically your first love. Who forgets that? Who compares to that?” 

“I don’t know if I would say she was my first l-” 

“Then who is, Satoru? Because it’s not my sister, right?” he asks, his voice firm. 

Satoru said that he would tell Getou when you officially announced you were going to Tokyo. Because once you lived in the same city, nothing would stop you from being with him - not even his best friend. 

“No, no, why would it be her? She’s been annoying us since we were little, arguing with us and all that. You-you’re right. It is her. Shayla’s always been my type.” he says, his gaze lowering to the floor. 

You feel your heart sink, twist into a jumbled mess as Getou smiles and gestures for her to come over. There’s a fair amount of protests from Satoru as she walks over, which you know is him trying to save face. He deals his final blow the second she walks up, definitively and wholly breaking your heart into pieces. 

When Getou starts setting the two of them up. When Satoru actually takes her number down. When she presses a kiss to his cheek and winks before she walks away. 

“I have to pee, Toto. Cover for me?” 

“Yeah, got it.” 

And the second you walk away and Getou watches you wipe the tears from your face as you walk past, Getou knows he’s right. 

“Getou. You have to-” 

“No, Satoru. Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“Wait, what- you can’t just-” 

“She’s my little sister. She’s not some toy you get to play around with till you figure out how you feel. And you don’t get to embarrass her by hiding her away either.” 

“We were going to tell you when she told you she’s going to Tokyo. You-you’re the reason I hid her away. I’ve liked her for years and I put that away because you didn’t want me with her. And now I-” 

“Don’t blame your shortcomings on me. Even if you did have to hide it in front of me, I would never call the girl I loved annoying to her face and throw everything she’s hated about herself in her face to make a point.” 

“I didn’t- Getou you’re the one who made her hate that about herself and-” 

“You love her?” 

“Obviously. Why would I go to the trouble of hiding something when-” 

“Talk to her again and I will literally break your face. In what world do you treat someone you love like that?” 

As Satoru watches Getou walk away and thinks about how hard you’re crying upstairs, he realizes he’s in his worst nightmare. Losing his best friend and the girl he loved on the same day. 

You and Satoru make promises that day. 

He promises that he’ll wear his heart on his sleeve from this day forward. You promise that you’ll tuck your heart away where no one can ever touch it again. 

--

present day 

“You’re no fun, Y/N.” Itadori says, pushing the paper into your space. 

“And you suck at tic-tac-toe.” you respond, sliding it back. 

Nobara and Megumi laugh as the three of you sink back into your chairs in the back of the conference room, your marketing manager droning on about stocks, the future of the company, and god knows what as you try to drone him out and focus on winning your seventh round of tic-tac-toe with Itadori. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t take much. 

“And lastly, we’ve employed a new marketing manager to work with the sales team. The four of you back there can decide who he’s going to be working with for onboarding.” says Ijichi. 

You nod as the four of you turn to each other, matching smirks on your face. 

“Rock paper scissors?” Nobara asks. 

“Deal.” 

It’s not that you’d hate to work with the new marketing manager. But the past three marketing managers were driven out by the end of the month because of you guys.

Megumi was too harsh with the first girl, who left crying when he asked her if she got her marketing degree from a trash can. Nobara drove the second guy away when she found out he chewed too loudly while eating lunch, claiming that he wasn’t a good fit for the company. And Itadori drove the last girl away, because she fell in love with him and he didn’t return her feelings, which made her resign the next day. 

“You know, logically. It’s your turn.” Megumi says, holding his fist up to Itadori. 

“Nope. We honor the rock paper scissors tournament in this friendship. 

You mince your words four rounds later because you’re the pouty loser getting stuck with the stupid marketing manager. You slide back into your chair as you massage your temples, preparing yourself for the upcoming headache for the next month. 

Either a lover, an incompetent idiot, or a loud chewer. 

Nobara and Itadori sling their hands around your shoulders, pinching your cheeks, as Ijichi swings the door open and the marketing manager walks in. He readjusts his tie - loosely hanging from his neck - and when you lift your head to actually make eye contact with him, you immediately sit up in your chair, your skin burning. 

Because Satoru Gojo is no longer six thousand miles away in Tokyo - out of sight and out of mind. He’s three feet away from you - taller, older, and more attractive than the time you saw him last. 

Everyone files out of the conference room, leaving the two of you standing miles away from each other, with you refusing to meet his eye. He walks up and holds his hand out, a shy smile on his face. 

“Satoru Gojo.” 

You put your hand in his - the touch warm, soft, all the way you remembered it. 

“Y/N L/N.” you respond, mimicking his voice. 

“Y/N, huh? You look more like a Belle to me.” he responds, smirking as he walks out to your cubicle labeled right across. 

You stomp right out, following him into your cubicle, as he takes the seat across from yours and starts eating the candy in your jar. You roll your eyes as you smack his hand, the smile on his face so big it's pissing you off. 

“Just so you know, there’s a very notorious reputation for running out the idiot who takes your position. And trust me, I’ll have you out by the end of the week.” 

“Is that a challenge, princess?” 

“You can’t flirt with me. I’m technically your boss, Satoru.” 

“You like to argue. I like to break rules. We all have our vices, princess.” he says, sticking one of your caramel candies in your mouth before pushing off your desk and making his way down the other side of the office. 

Six hours later, you’re face planting into the table at dinner, the words echoing through your mind. Along with all the memories you buried deep, deep down and tried to forget. Of running off to the lake all summer, Satoru washing your hair softly in the showers after, of nestling up in his arms to call it a day. 

Of Satoru rubbing circles into your back every time you fought with someone, of you kissing him after every fight he had with his dad, of whispering I love you against each other's lips like it was a sacred oath. 

“You look horrible.” Megumi says, sharing a judgemental look with Itadori. 

“Shut up.” 

“It’s just one of those lame interns. Just do what Nobara did - say he smells bad.”  Itadori responds, the three of them laughing. 

You dig your forehead into your forearms, only lifting your head to drink more of Itadori’s beer, as the thoughts race through your head. 

In all honesty, the problem has always been easy to avoid. Two years ago, Satoru smashed your heart into tiny pieces. You decided that you wouldn’t go to Tokyo or Kyoto like you planned and picked up everything and moved to New York instead. 

You didn’t say goodbye. To him or to anyone. Your parents drove you to the airport and Getou gave one of those weird, repressed older brother hugs and then you turned on your heel and never went back. 

You have a nice job. Friends who love you. Your dating life is abysmal at most - a long stream of guys you’ve ghosted, fought, and broken up with. Unfazed, unperturbed - calm, cool, and collected. 

It doesn’t bother you. Because you stuck by your promise. That you’ll tuck your heart away where no one can touch it. But it only takes five minutes of interaction with him and you can feel the concrete walls around your heart turning into clay, softened by the sweetness he’s always possessed, the softness he’s always shared with you. 

You have to drive him out of here as fast as you can. 

--  

Seven weeks later and Satoru remains at the company, steadfast and true. 

It drives you crazy, having him around. So up in your space, his smell lingering in your cubicle even after he walks away. He makes stupid jokes that make you smile so hard that you’re fighting the tears in your eyes and flirts with no shame like it’s breathing air. 

All in all, he’s everything you loved about Satoru, in your head again. In an even more attractive body, because of course time is nice to the asshole and he’s fit in all the right places. 

You ignore him the best you can, until you can’t anymore. 

You make it down to the parking lot, your high heels in your hand as you unlock your car and start loading your stuff into the trunk. 

That’s when you see him, slumped against his car with the hood popped open, with a very, very confused look on his face. You clear your throat loudly, which catches his attention. 

“Oh. Heading out late, Y/N?” 

“Looks like it. You?” 

“Ah. I actually meant to leave early today but my car hasn’t been starting so.” 

You take one look at his pouty face and give in. You slam the trunk of your car shut and whisper the words out, so fast that you can’t even think to regret them. 

“Get in the car.” 

“Huh?” 

“Get in the car, Satoru. Unless you want to stay here for the rest of the weekend, then be my guest.” 

He gives you the brightest smile you’ve seen as he all but jogs over and settles into the front seat of your car, slumping down in the seat that’s pushed all the way up. You back up out of the parking garage as he plugs in the address for his apartment, a modest thirty minutes away from the office. 

“You know, you can move the chair back. I’m not going to bite your head off if you do.” 

He laughs and you see his shoulders deflate as he adjusts the seat, his long legs now spread in the open compartment underneath him. 

“What a shame. I’m into that type of thing, Y/N.” 

“Always the perverted one, weren’t you?” you respond, smiling over at him. 

Stop it, Y/N. Stop it. 

“Who the hell sits up here anyway? A toddler?” 

“Oh. It was just this guy I was talking to. He was really short but he always felt the need to monitor my driving so he pulled the seat all the way up to watch the lines.” you respond, turning left onto the street. 

“Ah. One of your many romantic escapades, so I’m told. I’ve heard you’ve become quite the player, Y/N.” he says, leaning against the glass. 

“Learned from the best, Satoru. Except this time, I don’t get overinvolved.” you respond. 

He laughs, leaning back in the chair as you both fall into a comfortable silence, the tension hanging in the air eating at your skin. It hangs in the air, like an embarrassing elephant in the room. 

Satoru’s the one who pokes it. 

“Then, you should get involved with me. Again.” 

You keep your promises to yourself. But Satoru keeps his too. An oath to wear his heart on his sleeve is translated into him fighting to get you back. 

You slam the breaks so hard that his forehead goes straight into the sun visor, a groan leaving his mouth. You apologize and immediately reach forward, cupping the side of his face and eyeing the angry red mark on his forehead. 

“Yikes. I’m sorry, Cyclops. That caught me off guard.” 

“Be careful, there. Almost thought you cared for a second.” he says, smirking. 

You park the car in front of his apartment and look out the window, the words making your head spin. 

“You know, I can tell you want to.” he says.

You turn around and frown, reaching forward to flick into the soft skin of his cheek. 

“Please. You’re not even all that-” 

“You brushed your hand against mine when we walked to the conference room. I caught you staring at me during the company lunch on Thursday. And I know you just stopped talking to the short guy because Itadori told me. What’s the worst that could happen?”  

--

The worst has happened. Because for the second time, you are irrevocably and deeply in love with Satoru Gojo. 

Maybe you never stopped. 

Just like you were when you were seven, you’re incredibly drawn to him, like two magnets being pulled together. What was supposed to be one date, one lousy hookup like every other guy you’ve talked to in the past year turned into a complicated, mushy gushy feelings mess. 

You stayed over at his house that night. But then he was shirtless, singing in the kitchen as he made you breakfast in bed the next morning. And little by little, he’s crawled into every little part of your life. 

He insists on driving you to work, buying you a sugary overpriced latte you would never splurge on for yourself and a pastry to go with it on the way. He claims he doesn’t want any but reaches over the seat to take a bite and then press a chocolatey kiss to your lips. 

He hangs out with you and your friends after work. And like always, he always backs you up in the thousands of petty arguments he has with each of them and then tells you that it turns him on when he drives you home. 

He draws little shapes into your skin every night, asking you to guess the little drawings he’s making while his soft, smooth voice lulls you to sleep. And when you wake up, you can’t help but watch him, the little freckles he had when he was seventeen still the same. 

It makes your heart warm. The soft feelings you’ve always had for him, they make you warm. 

Which is why you curse yourself for ever thinking things could be different, when he drops the ball three months later.  

“Can you drive me to the airport on Friday, princess?” he asks, his breaths tickling your nose. 

“Where are you going, Toru?” you murmur, burrowing yourself deeper into his skin. 

“Home. The job posting was temporary, remember?” he responds, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. 

“Oh. Are- you’re not going to look for a job here?’ 

“Nah. Time’s up right?” he says, the question hanging in the air. 

And when you wake up the next morning, to find him in your kitchen with a bowl of cereal all poured out for you and a bouquet of flowers, you can’t help but yell at him. After the shit he pulled last night. 

“You should probably go to your apartment and pack your stuff up. Since you’re leaving tomorrow.” 

“We can do it tomorrow, Belle. Most of my stuff is here anyway.” he says, holding the bowl close to his mouth as he leans over the counter. 

“I can’t take you tomorrow. Megs said he will so you can ask him for help. He-he’s actually on his way now to get you.” you murmur, crossing your hands against your chest. 

He frowns, coming up close to you to wrap his arms around you which you quickly side shuffle out of. You push past him and walk into the kitchen, clutching the countertop hard. Satoru smiles to himself before he turns around, knowing he’s won the war. 

“Do you want me to stay, Belle?” 

You roll your eyes, the audacity of him even suggesting that just pissing you off more. Irritated, because of course he said that. Agitated, because he can read you like a book. 

“No, Satoru. Go home.” 

“You sure? Because it seemed like-” 

“Do you really think it would bother me if you left, Satoru? Do you really think you’re different from any other guy I talked to?” 

Satoru frowns, the angry look on your face the opposite of the love-struck, warm confession he was expecting. But then again, this was you. Argumentative to your core - so he just needs to wrangle it out of you. 

“I know I’ve been here longer than the rest of them, that’s for sure.” 

“And do you think that makes you special, Satoru? Do you sincerely, genuinely think any of that means I would want you to stay right now?” 

“Well, wait- I’m not just any other guy now, you and I, we-” 

“We what? Have history? A long term fling doesn’t make us soulmates, Satoru.” 

“That wasn’t a fling. You and I were-” 

“You and I were no different than what we are now, Satoru. You should have known to not get over involved. I told you from the start that this is how it would be. You leaving didn’t faze me the first time and it won’t faze me the second time either, sweetheart.” 

Satoru moves past you, yanking his hoodie on and grabbing his key off the hook as he swings the door open. And when he shuts the door behind you, his tear-stained face being the last thing you see, you sink onto the floor and can’t help but sob. 

For the first boy you ever loved. Who burned you so bad, that you burned him too. Who soothed over every angry, irritating, argumentative part of you, until it was something you unleashed on him too. 

You wonder why you let yourself into these sinkholes in the first place. 

--

“Hey, man. Have a safe flight home, okay? It was nice getting to know you.” Itadori says, lugging the last of Satoru’s luggage out of the back. 

Satoru gives Itadori one last hug before Megumi starts lugging his bags into the terminal with him, the intense feelings from the day prior still hanging on his chest. 

“You-you’ll take care of her right? After I’m gone?” Satoru asks, as he pulls into the line. 

“Who?” 

“Y/N.” 

“Oh. Yeah, I will. This time around though, I’m not letting Itadori and Nobara invite her to the bar.” 

Satoru smiles, the thought of you drunk, making his heart ache. One of his many favorite sights is you on your fourth glass of wine - when your lips are all pink and when you climb all over him, whispering the corniest, cheesiest things that come to mind. 

“Princess. You’re kind of cutting off my circulation here.” 

“Sss-sorry, Satoru. Wanted to get closer.” you whisper, tangling your arms around his neck and readjusting in his lap. 

“What’s closer than this princess? You’re literally on top of me right now.” he responds, cupping your face to push the hair away from your face. 

“Not close enough.” 

“The only thing closer than this is if you crawled into my skin and became a part of my bloodstream.” 

“Is there a way to do that? Because I would.” 

“You wanna be that close to me, huh princess?” 

“Even when I’m sitting right next to you, right on top of you, literally skin to skin - I still can’t get enough of you. I want to be this close, all the time.” 

Satoru shakes the memory from his mind as the people behind him gesture him to move forward in line, his heart hanging heavier in his chest. 

“She always drinks too much, doesn’t she?” he says. 

“Well, yeah. It’s usually funny. But now she’s going to go back into her moping, angsty teenager phase for the next seven months. I’ll probably be dragging her out of that bar on her legs, for all I know.” 

“Y/N? Angsty? That’s real funny.” 

“No, I’m telling you. When we first met her, all this girl did was cry in the bar. Her sadness was like…contagious or whatever it was making me depressed. One time she sang All Too Well, on the countertop while sobbing until the bartender literally had to kick her ass out.” 

“The first guy she dated when she moved here was that bad, huh?” 

“No. Itadori and Nobara have this running theory, they’ve been trying to figure out who he is for a while. The one thing we know for sure is that he’s definitely from her hometown and that she broke up with him right before she moved here.” 

And that’s when Satoru gets it. That you’re a goddamn liar. And that you definitely did want him to stay. 

Satoru does the only thing he can. Drops everything and runs straight out the airport to make his way back to your apartment. He’ll be damned if he makes the same mistake twice. 

--

You look up from your spot, sprawled on the cold tiles of your kitchen floor, when you hear a key turn in the lock. You immediately sit up to find Satoru, an almost angry look on his face, when he storms in and bends down in front of you. 

“Forget your diapers, grandpa?” 

“Shut up, Y/N.” 

“It’s a long flight. You don’t want to have an accident do you?” 

He brings his hands up to your cheeks, squishing hard so you can’t get another word. And what he says next, the same words he uttered to you in that stupid lake, sober you u pearl fast. 

“Princess, I really, really love it when you argue with me like that but can you please just let me finish?” 

You swallow hard as he gives you a satisfied smile, giving him a soft nod. 

“Do you want me to stay?” 

“God, Satoru. Just quit it with this shit, I already told you no and I mean-” 

“You also told me that it didn’t faze you when we broke up the first time. But then I find out, you were slurring my name in bars and crying about it for months.” 

“So? Do you want a cookie or something?” 

“So you’re a liar. And now I want to know the truth. Do you want me to stay?” 

His eyes are burning, bigger than you’ve ever seen them. The gaze itself is piercing, making the ends of your hair stand up on your arms and legs. You shake his hand off your face as you stand up, scrambling to the other side of the kitchen. 

“I don’t want you to stay.” 

“Yes, you do. You’re lying, Y/N.” 

“No, I’m not. One measly piece of information my friends mention in passing doesn’t mean it’s about you, Satoru.” 

He brings his hands around your wrist, curling his fingers around the skin and squeezing twice. 

“I made the dumbest mistake of my life. I had an opportunity, a real one to be honest about how I felt and I fucked it up, okay? I’ve regretted it every day since you walked away. You were going to go to school - with me. We were going to be together. But then you picked up everything and move to the other side of the fucking planet to halfheartedly date all these guys without a care in the world.” 

“What does stating facts do for you, Satoru? What is it you want me to say?” 

“You know what I want to hear. Say it, Belle.” 

“What? That I left because of you? That I loved you so much that it made my heart hurt? That every second I’m around you it only feels like my love gets bigger for you? That the only person I can’t bring myself to get over is you? Because what does me saying that do for me because you’re just going to-” 

Satoru smiles before he closes the space between you, pushing you into the counter and cradling your cheeks in his hand. He’s leaning into the kiss, so hard that you can feel almost his entire body weight on you as his lips press against yours. 

He’s shaking hard and smiling into the kiss, pulling you back in every time you try to stop, his hands running in your hair as he laughs into your mouth. 

“Was it so hard to tell me that you wanted me to stay?” he whispers, giggling into your ear as he presses kisses into your neck. 

“Was it so hard to tell me you wanted to? You just had to come have this big moment with me here when-” 

“Yes, I did. You deserved a big, lengthy love confession when you were seventeen, at that stupid party. I’m trying to do right by you through this dramatic shit now.” 

“Because this is doing right by me? Making me cry and then running back?” 

“It’s romantic, princess. I ran out of an airport for you.” 

“After we argued. That kind of puts a damper on it.” 

“Oh, shut up. You know argumentative girls have always been my thing.” 

You place your hands around his face, yanking his head out of the crook of your neck as you hold his face in your hands, the skin soft. He still has all the little freckles, the same eyes and nose that you loved when you were seventeen. 

That you love. You love him. 

“Satoru.” 

“Yeah?” 

“How did you get a key to my house?” 

He rolls his eyes as he breaks out of your hold, sticking his tongue out at you. 

“That would have been a really sweet moment for a confession. You ruined it, princess.” 

You smile as you make your way into his arms again, looking up at him from his hold. 

“I made a copy of your key, Y/N.” 

“That’s illegal, Toru. Breaking and entering.” 

“You like to argue. I like to break rules. Everyone has their vices.” 

You bring your hands back up to his cheeks again, the smile on your face hurting your cheeks as you press a kiss to the side of his cheek. 

“Isn’t love the greatest vice, Toru?” you whisper. 

“Maybe for me. Every normal thing hits different when it comes to you.” he says, closing the space between you two again.

--

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

[topguncortez]

Into the Fire || Whumptober Day 17 - Bradley & Dragon

whumptober masterlist

synopsis: dragon and rooster feel like they are reliving their worst nightmare over again. but this time, things look a little bit brighter

word count: 1.3k

@ailesswhumptober prompt: "you look a little pale"

warnings: mentions of stillbirth, mentions of miscarriage, fear of hospitals, passing out, ultrasounds, pregnancy, PTSD

Rooster had gotten the message right before he was about to get up in his plane. Hondo came running straight towards him, yelling and calling his name. Rooster thought that maybe he had forgotten something during pre-flight, but he had always been so careful about checking his plane. But the look on Hondo’s face said otherwise, and Rooster took off towards his Bronco, dialing his wife’s number over and over. He probably broke every single traffic law that he possibly could get to the hospital. When he arrived Y/N Seresin was pacing the floor, her face looking pale and her body was slightly shaking. 

Dragon had been spending the day with Y/N Seresin and Val Machado. It was her first day of maternity leave, and she was taking it a bit hard. She had woken up at 5 AM when Rooster’s alarm went off, but she sat on the bed with a sad look on her face while Rooster got ready. The pregnancy hadn’t been easy on her, and Rooster was worried that spending all day by herself wasn’t going to be very helpful, so he called Y/N. 

They were at brunch when Dragon started to complain about her head hurting. She had been having headaches and dizzy spells off and on for the past couple of weeks of her third trimester. She summed it up to her body just being exhausted. Growing a human was hard work. Growing a human who was already measuring bigger than 29 weeks was even harder work. 

Dragon had been fine, or so she had told them until she had turned as white as a sheet and passed out in Val’s arms. 

“Y/N,” Rooster called out and the woman looked up at him. 

“Val is with her,” She simply said, and Rooster nodded, “I-I don’t know what-what.” 

“Shh,” Rooster said, bringing her in for a hug, “Thank you for getting her here.” 

Y/N nodded her head, “No problem, Rooster.” 

Rooster pulled away from her, “Jake coming to get you?” Y/N nodded her head again, “Okay. I’m gonna go find my wife.” 

It felt like deja vu all over again as Rooster checked in at the nurses’ station, giving them Dragon’s name and his relation to them. He felt the same fear he did nearly a year ago as he rode the elevator in silence, holding back tears. Rooster tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling, saying a small prayer to whoever would listen. 

“Please don’t take them,” Rooster sniffled, “I need them, Dad.”  

When the elevator dinged and the doors rolled back, Rooster started preparing himself for the worst. He let out a shaky breath as he rounded the corner, and saw Val sitting by Dragon’s bedside. His wife looked to be sleeping, and Val had her hands clasped as if she were saying a prayer. He clenched his jaw as he knocked softly and Val lifted her head, giving him a sad smile. She stood up from the chair she was in and kissed Dragon’s forehead before stepping out of the room to talk to Bradley. 

“W-what happened?” Bradley asked. 

“She passed out while we were shopping,” Val said softly, “Her blood pressure was extremely low when we got her in. We’re running some tests.” 

Bradley covered his mouth with his fist, biting back tears, “The baby?” 

“She wouldn’t let us do the ultrasound without you,” Val frowned, “She’s terrified, Bradley.” 

Bradley didn’t blame her, he was terrified too. The last time this had happened, Dragon woke up to the news that her baby no longer had a heartbeat. Bradley felt bile rising in his throat, as he swallowed thickly and looked at Val. 

“I need to be with her,” He said and Val nodded, “Thank you, Val, for being there for her,” Bradley patted the woman’s shoulder and went towards his wife’s room. 

Bradley knocked on his wife’s door and quietly pushed it open. She was looking away from him, out the window at the now falling rain. He quietly made his way to her bedside and sat down in the chair next to her. He didn’t say anything as he lifted his hand and placed it on hers. Dragon closed her eyes as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She grabbed onto his hand and held it in her own, squeezing it tightly as a sob left her mouth. Bradley clenched his jaw and looked down at his boots, letting his own tears fall. 

“I’m sorry,” Dragon whimpered and Bradley moved quickly, getting in bed next to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart,” Bradley said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He could see Val peeking through the small window in the door, “Will you let them do the ultrasound?” 

Dragon’s eyes filled with tears as she looked up at the ceiling. She had been dreading this moment since they brought her into the hospital. The last time she was in a room like this, she was told her baby no longer had a heartbeat. Anxiety filled her body even thinking about having an ultrasound done. Every appointment she went to, she would look the other way as the doctor took the scan. 

“Yes,” Dragon said, pushing away her own fear. It scared her even more not knowing what was going on at all, “I just didn’t want to be alone.” 

Bradley’s heart broke in his chest thinking about how scared and alone his wife felt. He had promised that he’d be right by her side for anything and everything, no matter how big or small it was. He didn’t want to miss a single moment. 

Gingerly, Bradley got out of the bed and walked to the door. Val was waiting patiently outside, ready to do the ultrasound. She had been the one to do the ultrasound when the Bradshaws were pregnant with Ida, and ultimately she had been the one to deliver the horrible news. Val wheeled in the ultrasound machine and set it by Dragon’s bedside. The Trace girl kept her eyes trained on the rain hitting the window. 

“Alright, this is gonna feel pretty cool,” Val said as she squeezed some gel onto Dragon’s bump, “Have you felt them move at all?” 

Dragon looked at her friend, “A bit,” She answered softly. 

Val gave Dragon a small smile, “That’s good. Let’s take a look here, alright?” 

All Dragon could do was turn her head, looking back towards the window. Val and Bradley shared a look, both understanding how this was for her. Bradley could feel his wife’s anxiety rolling off her in waves. He sat down in the chair next to her bed, taking her hand in his and running his other hand over her hair. Dragon eyes drifted to Bradley, his warm honey-brown eyes feeling like home. 

“Whatever happens-” Dragon started. 

“We’ll get through this together,” Bradley spoke. 

Val glanced over at the two of them and smiled, before turning the ultrasound screen more towards them, “Here’s baby Bradshaw,” Dragon turned her head to look at the monitor as the all too familiar whooshing sound filled the room, “Heartbeat is strong. They look good for their size, the head shape looks good, and the femur length looks good. And, oh!” Val chuckled, “They’re kicking!” 

“Kicking me in the fucking spleen,” Dragon huffed and playfully rolled her eyes, looking down at her bump, “Everything is alright?” 

“Everything is alright,” Val said, “We’re still waiting on your test results before we send you home. We paged your regular OB to come talk to you.” Val gently grabbed a cloth to wipe up Dragon’s belly, “I’ll be at the nurses’ station if you need me.” 

“Thank you, Val,” Bradley said, his eyes full of sincerity. Val nodded towards her friends before leaving them alone. Bradley nuzzled his face against Dragon's neck, "I love you to the moon and back."

"And I love you more than the stars love the moon," Dragon smiled, "We're gonna be alright, you, me and them."

Bradley nodded his head, "We're gonna be alright."

[spicyclover]

Delilah | Part two

Summary: “ Hey there, Delilah                                                                                        I know times are gettin' hard                                                                                  But just believe me, girl                                                                                Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar                                                                 We'll have it good                                                                                                We'll have the life we knew we would                                                                      My word is good “

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! 

I'm open to requests.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

You kiss her head and close the door getting back to the living room. Paola returned to her apartment, and you sat by the door, wondering what to do. 

You’ve had an exhausting week. The lack of sleep and the anxiety of seeing him again is eating away at you. You have nightmares. Each time the same. You are in front of his house six years earlier, begging him to let you in. The rain is falling, and you are wet. Your tears mingle with the rain, and you’re exhausted from banging on his door. You end up collapsing on the ground, curling up on yourself. The dream keeps repeating itself, and you wake up with a start every time the door opens.

Your eyes widen, and you struggle to find your breath. You frantically search around you without knowing exactly what you are looking for. You are hot. The sheets are soaked with sweat, and you sigh by passing your hand on your face. It can’t last any longer. You look at the time on the dial on your bedside table and blow more, knowing it’s just four in the morning. “So much for your sleep.” You take your phone and look at the messages you received. Your mother sent you a mem of a cat, and you smile tenderly, noticing the resemblance with Cato. Speaking of which, he enters the room discreetly and rests at the edge of the bed. "Of course, he heard me." You look at him briefly before he turns to the door.

It is not possible, this cat. No matter what time he asks for food. You whisper it is not time, and he shakes his disgruntled tail. You keep watching the news and your networks. You follow the F1 closely and pass their story one after the other. The Spanish Grand Prix is fast approaching. Delilah always dreams of going there and seeing the cars in real life. You look at the time again, and already two hours are gone. You decide to get up and start the routine.

The hours go by, and the idea is always in your head. Why not go? There is no harm. What could happen? That you meet him, that he recognizes you, that he sees Delilah, that he ignores you and ignores her at the same time and that your daughter’s little heart is broken again... Out of the question! You are on the bus back, and your mind is lost in your contacts. You are in his name. You never managed to get his number off your phone or his nickname simultaneously. Your thumbs overlook his name without touching him. Your brain hesitates, but your body seems to want to decide for itself.

The bus stops suddenly, and you press the call button. Panic invades you, and you look at your phone with big eyes. You get it near your ear.

"Sorry, the number you’re trying to reach is no longer available."

He changed his number. Surprisingly, your heart is tightening. You’ve invaded with vomiting. He changed his number. That asshole changed his number. You know it’s not necessarily your fault, but you can’t help but think about it. He didn’t even send you a message to warn you. Tears come up, but you refuse to let them down. He doesn’t deserve your tears. He abandoned you. He... he broke your heart.

You put your keys in the lock and the ball in your belly. What are you going to do now? Delilah will never recover. She wanted you to contact him so she could see him at least once. You don’t want to break that hope in her. It’s so hard. Not having her father present for her is already so hard. Not having two signatures in her school notebook. Not being related to his father’s side. Not having him at her dance shows. Not having him for her birthdays.

You open the door with a heavy heart and a full head. Delilah sits quietly in the living room and draws. She is so wise. You thank Paola, and you sit next to her.

"Delilah, cariño, escúchame." You say, caressing her long hair. "Sé que realmente quieres conocer a tu padre y yo..." Delilah, baby, listen to me. I know you really want to meet your dad, and I..."

"¿Te pusiste en contacto con él?" She asks, starry eyes.  "¿Quiere verme? ¿Dijo qué? ¿Cuándo lo vemos?" She gets increasingly excited, and you feel bad breaking her dream. Did you contact him? He wants to see me? He said what? When do we see him?

You don’t know why or how. But the lie that came out of your mouth sealed your destiny.

"Sí, e incluso dijo que lo vamos a visitar en Madrid. Vamos a pasar algún tiempo con la abuela y el abuelo." You want to bang your head against a wall. Why couldn’t you admit to your daughter that her father didn’t warn you about his number change? It wasn’t hard to say you couldn’t get in touch with him, and he didn’t want to see her… Yes, and he even said we’ll visit him in Madrid. We’re going to spend some time with Grandma and Grandpa.

You got yourself in a mess.

The end of the month is here, and you get on the train to your parents' country house. You haven’t been there in five years and for good reason. Last time you were here, you were so pregnant with your daughter. Your mother begged you for weeks to come home and spend a few days trying to reconcile your relationship with your father, but he wouldn’t listen and went fishing all the time you were there.

You walked in the fields with your mother to try to get her out. You laughed when you saw Blanca in the distance. You quickly turned around to avoid her, and your mother followed you. You heard her call you, but you ignored her. Fortunately, your oversized coat hid your belly, and you could leave without further incident. You took a train ticket that night to avoid another incident, and you’re saying goodbye to your mother and hometown with big tears. A few days later, when you arrived in Fuengirola, you gave birth. You texted him to tell him she was born, but you never got an answer. So you didn’t insist, and you gave up.

The landscapes pass by, and you get to fall from the night in the small village. Delilah is asleep, and you take her off the train thanking the nice Samaritan who helped you get your bags out of the vehicle. You then found your mother waiting at the entrance of the station. She greets you with open arms and embraces tenderly the forehead of Delilah, who sleeps in your arms. You thank her kindly for taking your bags, and you head to the car. The headlights are on, and you’re surprised to see your dad sitting in the driver’s seat, but you don’t say anything. You don’t know how to react by getting closer to the car. He comes out and approaches you. No words are exchanged, but you know he forgave you. He hugs you and kisses your temple before he takes Delilah and puts her in the car seat.

The ride is quiet, and you end up falling asleep at the noise of the road. Two hours of the car are between the city center and the house. This dream-free sleep does you good, and you recover the energy that left you that last month. The vehicle is parked, and you wake up. Your eyes are looking at the garden where you spent all your childhood and the house that saw you grow up. Six years have passed. You cannot believe it. Delilah wakes up beside you, and you smile tenderly. The energy took her, and she began to admire everything around her. She greets her grandpa and grandmother warmly before running around the garden laughing. 

The first few days go well. Your parents get to know your daughter, and you gradually regain your strength. You’re happy to find your father. After so many years, you’re pleased to be able to hug him and watch your favourite show together again. You took a stroll through the city and its surroundings. Delilah got a nice bike, and your father has been teaching her to do it for a few days. You talk to your mother, and you miss your complicity.

You spend a lot of time biking and enjoying nature. It changes the urban landscapes that you’re used to seeing. Delilah is riding a pony for the first time and doesn’t want to let it go. She eats pony, laughs pony, plays pony, and wants a pony.

You regret that your mother had this idea, but seeing Delilah so happy does you good. Maybe she will forget her father...You spoke with your parents about Delilah’s desire to meet her dad. To be able to see him. You talked about your fears and the hard years you’ve been through alone. Your father feels guilty that he couldn’t put his ego aside so that you could stay close to them, but you reassure him that you don’t regret anything. Seeing your daughter smile daily is worth all the trouble in the world.

You’re talking about going to a Grand Prix to find him, but you don’t want to. You’re completely lost and don’t know what to do about it. You talk about a good part of the evening, and it’s only once the big clock in the living room announces midnight that your parents decide to go to bed. You just sit out in the open, taking advantage of the summer breeze to think better. It’s already mid-July. You can’t believe that time is moving so fast. You return to your room a few minutes later with a restless but relaxed mind.

The next day, you are at the village market, and you market the various vegetables and fruit you see at the best prices. Delilah smells each product and displays a satisfied head every time the smell is sweet. The traders laugh at her adorable face and even offer her fruit for free. Delilah walks through the different stands making her little game to get as many items as possible. You sneer tenderly with your mother when you notice your daughter’s ploy.

Watch her from the corner of your eye. Her little hat with strawberries strapped to her head helps you spot her in the crowd. She is at the honey stand. You thank the seller, who hands you your bag filled with good vegetables and turns around to find your daughter. You see her talking to a stranger. You frown as you approach. If there’s one thing you don’t want her to do, it’s talk to strangers.

“Delilah, come on. Let’s go. We’re done shopping for today.” She turns to you, and the stranger raises his head. Your heart misses a beat. It’s not possible. What’s he doing there. The eyes of the unknown also open.

~~

Let me know if you would like a part three in the comments!

TAG LIST (All Stories) : darkmalice00 karmabyfernando

TAG LIST (This story): karmabyfernando omgsuperstarg soosheee mypage-myfandoms trouble-sistar aileeincomplexity sweetwerewolfqueen darkmalice00 gaslysainz kimikimki fandomsfeminismandme aundercover

[apomaro-mellow]

Part 4

Robin wouldn’t call the walk home pleasant, but it did give her time to think. Time to second guess everything she had done. Time to rehearse the conversation she was going to have with Steve over the phone. And then time to remember he’d be with Eddie tonight and with any luck, putting the moves on him.

When she got home, she dialed halfway and stopped about three times before calling anyway. When Steve picked up, he was breathing a little hard.

“Please tell me I just interrupted you and Eddie running a marathon”, Robin groaned as she fell back against her bed.

“You knew what might be happening when you called. By the way why are you calling? Your date with Nancy finished already?”

“Oh we’re finished alright.”

“That doesn’t sound good. What happened?”

“Are you sure it’s more important than Eddie’s blue balls right now?”

“Robin you’re way more important than Eddie’s balls.”

“Hey! I heard that Harrington!

“She’s more important than your dick too!”

Robin felt her bottom lip quiver a little. “Steve, you have no idea how much that means to me.”

“I mean it. If you wanna talk I can send Eddie home and you can come. Or I’ll go to you.”

“Your courting suitor won’t mind being booted?”

It took a moment for Steve to answer and Robin worried that she might actually be getting on Eddie’s bad side.

“No, I don’t think he’ll mind”, Steve said. “I’m like....85% sure he’s super into me and will let me get away with anything.”

Robin felt a bit of weight lift off her shoulders. Sounded like things had gone well for them tonight. “We can talk tomorrow. You know, when he’s not humping your leg.”

“First thing in the morning”, Steve promised. “Good night.”

“Night, Steve.”

That left Robin to wallow. Or rather to let her thoughts race one right after the other. And she didn’t want to forget when her brain made a particularly good point so she wrote them all down.

When Steve came over to her house the next morning, she had a handful of papers.

“These contain everything that can happen regarding my decision to either forgive her or not, date her or not, or move to Connecticut.”

“You’ve truly covered all the bases”, Steve said, settling in for a long morning.

-----------------------------

Eddie’s first instinct that morning was to find Nancy. Actually, it was to kiss Steve all over his body (the inner elbow was an oft-ignored area) but since Steve was busy, he figured he’d seek out Nancy and figure out what happened.

Something went wrong and he felt partially to blame for it. He was the one who switched up the plan.

Not wanting to cross paths with Ted Wheeler or get held up by Mike, Eddie climbed his way to Nancy’s window and tapped. Her window thrust open and she let out a sigh.

“I thought you were Steve.”

“Good morning to you too, sunshine-whoa.” Eddie paused when he got two feet on the floor, seeing an array of papers on Nancy’s bed. 

Nancy turned her gaze to the mess on her bed. “I know how it looks-”

“It looks like you spent all night working on college essay when you should’ve been making out with Buckley.”

“They’re not ess-did you and Steve make out last night?”

“Mmm, and then some”, Eddie smiled dreamily at the memory.

“Unbelievable”, Nancy began to pace around. “So you just bypassed all the awkwardness, whether he’s gay or not, and any sort of history you two had and went right to jumping his bones?”

“You did say those would all be miniscule obstacles. And you were right!”, Eddie threw his hands up. “And you’re not celebrating with me. What happened last night?”

Nancy sat on her bed, right on top of the papers. “I mean how can I have baggage with someone I never even dated?”

Slowly, Eddie sat down next to her, waiting for her to continue.

“Last night, Robin asked why me and Steve broke up. And apparently, my answer painted me as an unfeeling, manipulative bitch and she walked out on our date.”

“Robin didn’t say that?”, Eddie’s brow furrowed.

“No, no of course she didn’t but I’m pretty good at reading between the lines.”

“Or projecting and putting words into people’s mouths.”

“It doesn’t matter. This was a stupid idea”, Nancy got up and started balling the paper up.

“Hey hey what’re all these anyway? If they’re not essays what were you doing last night?”

“They’re....”, Nancy took a breath. “They’re scenarios, okay? I decided to take a page out of your book and jot down what might happen. If I apologize to Steve, maybe we can fully mend our friendship, Robin will give me a second chance. Or I’ll apologize, Robin forgives me but still doesn’t want to date me. Or like a bunch of...other ideas...”

“This one just says ‘move to Paris’.”

“Oh like you’ve never thought of moving somewhere and changing your identity.”

“This seems like an....extreme reaction to one bad date.”

“It wasn’t just one bad date. This is...it’s something major.”

“You care about Robin that much, huh?”

“And Steve!”

Eddie’s eyes widened at that.

“I care about him. I know that might be hard to believe but I never meant to hurt him back then. And there was just never a good time to explain everything that I had been feeling, every choice that I made and-what are you doing?”, Nancy asked when Eddie stood up from the bed.

“Hold that thought.” He grabbed Nancy’s phone off the hook and dialed a number. “Hello Mrs. Buckley, is Robin there? Yes, and I’m sure Steve Harrington is with her? Of course. Thank you.”

Nancy went over to him, eyes wide. “What are you doing?!”, she asked again with more urgency.

“Don’t be rude, I’m on the phone”, Eddie said before giving said device his full attention. Steve must’ve answered because Eddie said “Hey baby” in a way that made Nancy feel like she shouldn’t be listening.

She stood there helplessly while Eddie spoke on the phone.

“What’re you two peapods up to? ....Really? What a coincidence me and Big Wheel are doin’ the same...Yeah?... Sounds perfect?... Say, in an hour?..Gotcha.” While Eddie talked, he ignored all of Nancy’s questioning facial expressions which were all incredibly emotive.

“Oh! I almost forgot. I remembered what I was trying to say last night. You and Robin are the otters, but you and and Nancy are the hermit crabs.”

“Eddie what the fuck?”, Nancy whispered in a hiss.

Eddie turned towards the wall as his voice got a little deeper. “Oh yeah?..Would you like that baby? OW! Okay Nancy!”, Eddie exclaimed when she hit him with an encyclopedia. “Bye, see you at the place. Mwahmwahmwah”, Eddie kissed the receiver of the phone both to fluster Steve and to annoy Nancy more.

“God you’re worse than Mike.”

“You mean better, right?”

“What the hell was that call about?”

“The four of us are gonna sit down and have a little parley.”

Nancy was regretting putting this plan into action every minute that passed.

Part 6

I’ve thought about who their fifth person should be that acts as a mediator and I think I’ve come up with the funniest solution but imma keep it to myself until I actually write the next part. And maybe if u guys are good I’ll post steve and eddie’s full night

Tag Team

@goodolefashionedloverboi @rainydays35 @desert-fern @alienace @homohomohoe @savory-babby @gothwifehotchner @gregre369 @estrellami-1 @l0st-strawberry @dreamlandforever 

[soft-girl-musings]

Last Night -- Chapter 1 (MIA)

chapter 2 chapter 3

cross-posted to ao3

Jake Lockley x fem!Reader

tags: baby's first angst, potential misuse of alcohol, protective Jake, brief allusion to Marc/Steven

wc: 1,045

fic summary: You're usually tight-lipped about your frustrations, especially when it comes to Jake. But a drink too many leaves you spilling your thoughts one by one.

__________

You aren't usually this late.

Jake sighs as he drums his fingers on the countertop, checking his phone for the tenth time in a minute.

He sighs again. You'd said 8 o'clock, right? The stovetop clock glows mercilessly up at him. An hour since you said you'd be home for dinner. And no text from you. The phone's in his hands again, thumb hovering over your number.

He said he'd stop calling so often. He'd promised.

As your relationship has progressed, Jake has tried to dial back his instinct to protect you. He'd assumed the role of your bodyguard almost immediately: his hand gripping yours a little too tight, sizing up every passerby when you're out together. 

"Jake, relax," you always tell him. "You look like you're going to kill someone." The gentle touch of your hand always brings him back down, making him bite his tongue before he admits that he would, he'd do anything to keep you from a modicum of what he knows people are capable of. If it meant roughing up the occasional barista or store clerk when they look at you the wrong way, he'd do it in a heartbeat. Do it for you.

But you don't want him to, at least you haven't told him otherwise. What you did tell him is that you don't enjoy being hounded for updates like you have a curfew.

So there Jake stands: phone in hand, mind racing through every possible reason why you haven't called him back.

Before he locks his phone and puts it away, it starts buzzing, your name lighting up the screen.

He answers quickly. "Dios, cariño, I was worried–"

"Hey Jake," a tense voice cuts him off from the other line. Not your voice.

His jaw clenches. "What's going on, where's–"

"She's safe, we went out for drinks, but, um." The stranger hesitates, the bustle of whatever bar you're in filling the silence. It doesn't sound like your scene, it's too busy. "She's had too much to drink, and she's– someone suggested we call you to pick her up. Can you?"

Jake's rushing out the door, coat and keys in hand before your friend finishes speaking. "Text me the address."

__________

He's sure he broke a couple of laws getting to your location, speeding downtown in record time.

His instinct was right: the dimly lit, bass-bumping establishment really isn't your usual scene. Adjusting his cap, he steps inside. It's impossibly dark, and he has no idea which friends you're with. He scans the main area once, twice, his heart rate skyrocketing. Every second without you in his line of sight means anything could have happened to you.

"Jake?" That voice. He turns to see one of your work friends rounding the corner, your phone in hand. She's timid as she approaches. Jake shakes himself, forcing a more neutral expression. You've told him you're not one to flaunt your "scary dog privilege" by his side, and he took that as your way of saying he makes your friends nervous.

"Thanks for calling me." He tries to sound sincere, but his urgency forces the words out more harshly than he'd prefer. "Where is she?"

Your friend nods and leads him to the rest of the group.

A couple of other girls from your workplace sit on either side of you on a plush couch, tucked in the corner of the bar. You cradle your head in your hands, shaking it as you seem to ramble on and on about something Jake can't quite hear. He notices the copious shot glasses on the table–  the majority of which are piled in front of you.

His jaw clenches. You told him you didn't drink. "I hate the person I become if I have even a drop," you'd insisted when he'd once offered to buy you something.

The friend who'd called him appears by his side. "She had a hard week, so we figured we'd go out tonight. We didn't– we didn't know she was such a lightweight." She doesn't speak with condescension; her eyes never leave you, and they're filled with pity. "But she insisted."

Jake runs a hand over his face, processing the situation. You never mentioned you were having a hard week. If he'd known, he could have fixed it. He could have prevented the scene you were so close to causing, your overindulgence clearly taking its toll. He could have– should have– been here.

Jake turns back to your friend and takes your phone when she offers it. "I've got her from here... thank you." They exchange a knowing look before he's swiftly by your side.

"Hey, cariño," he offers warmly, kneeling next to you. He takes your hand in his, rubbing circles on your palm the way he usually does.

You look a mess, even in the dim room: your eyes glistening with tears that make mascara run down your flushed cheeks, your mouth fixed in a frown as you carry on, not registering Jake's presence.

"...And I swear, it wasn't even my fault the deadline got pushed up, but Evan had to keep being a jerk about it–" You stop your slurred speech when you feel his hand squeeze yours. Eyes squinted, you lean in, scanning over his features. Your free hand lazily pats his head.

 "Jake." You almost sneer in recognition. Your tone makes him flinch, but he grasps your hand all the same.

"Querida," he begins again, urging you to look at him. "I think we should go home."

He stands to bring you to your feet, but you protest. "N-no, we were just talking– Jake, come on." Your friends scoot over as you’re guided up, Jake’s hands firmly on your waist when you waver. "Don't baby me," you warn, your voice unusually low. Jake's hold on you loosens, but he doesn't budge.

He murmurs back, "Then work with me. Please." The look in your eyes– glassy, but with an unfamiliar intensity behind them– sends a chill down his spine.

You straighten yourself, pushing his hands away. "Let's just go," you huff. You make your way to the door, careful not to stumble as you walk. Jake turns to the group, already distracting themselves with their own drinks, and follows you outside.

You need to talk.

__________

A/N: I can't believe this story came together so quickly; I'm excited to finish the next 2 parts. This was loosely based on Morgan Wallen's "Last Night" (which is v out of left field for me genre-wise).

Thank you for reading!