#Can’t wait for my landlord to get here

[fuckyeah-bears]

I woke up to find a squirrel in my apartment this morning

[saturngalore]

i forgot that i gotta plan ahead to make sims and/or houses whenever a new pack comes or im gonna spend countless days stuck in cas and not actually playing the game 😭

[gatorlovebot]

nsfw. mdni. this is self indulgent but its my right as a 20 something who is getting ready to move out on their own for the first time to write about landlord john price ok <3

landlord price who buys a nice looking duplex in the city and fixes it up himself. lives in the top floor because he doesn’t need much space to himself and rents out the bottom unit. so far it had mostly been couples or smaller familes renting out the bottom unit, until you came along.

you, who had been saving money to rent something nice for yourself, something with a little extra space. the two bedroom downstairs unit is perfect for you, but you have pretty mixed feelings about your landlord living right above you. until you actually meet him.

upon moving in your greeted by the warm accent of john price. his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you and you can pick out grey hairs in his full beard. it’s so cliche, feeling butterflies for an older man whose kind to you but what are you supposed to do when he offers to help you bring in boxes, muscly arms on full display?

he allows you time and space to get settled in, with a promise of, “i’m just upstairs if you ever need anything.”

you don’t see him for the next few days until there’s a knock at your door and its him, looking soft and sweet in a grey henley, just in time for the colder fall weather. “would you care to join me for dinner? i tried a new soup recipe and seems like a i have enough to feed a small army.”

and that’s how you end up in his space for the first time. it’s tiday yet lived in. furniture dark and worn. you can tell a man lives here. dinner is nice, soup rich and filling. but john makes it so much better. effortlessly making you laugh with his bad jokes and stories. he’s warm and personable. your little crush grows when he walks you back downstairs to your unit when the sun goes down. you find yourself struggling to go inside to your empty apartment.

some days you see him and some days you don’t. your work schedule is consistent but you can’t get a read on his schedule, coming and going unpredicatably. life of a retiree, you think.

sometimes you catch him when you’ve come home from work. usually you’re thrilled to see him, an immediate smile stretching across your face and a blush on your cheeks as soon as you see his smile and hear his voice.

sometimes you curse his presence. like now, when you can’t even wait until you get inside your place before the tears start to fall. and of course john has to be in the front yard racking up leaves. you try to give a polite hello and walk up the steps inside, but john price can already read you like a book.

he’s pulling you into his chest before you even know it, big, solid arms wrapped around your shoulders holding you snug to him. “what’s got you so upset, huh?”

and you let the tears fall in earnest, feeling safe and secure with john. “work…just fucking sucks.”

“oh you poor thing,” he coos before gathering you up in his arms and leading you up to his place. he brews some tea as you sink into his couch, the leather warm and soft underneath you. once the teas done, he settles next to you and let’s you warble on about how unsupportive your work environment is and how your boss never follows through on his promises. he mostly just lets you talk, letting out an occasional hum in affirmation. that night he’s not very talkative, he’s much more tactile. running his hands up and down your arms, rubbing the tension from your shoulders and back as he allows you to lean on him until you’re practically in his lap. you’ve exhausted yourself crying and he thanks you for being so vulnerable with him and tells you that even though you don’t deserve all the bullshit at your job, you’re such a brave girl for fighting through it.

things continue to get more and more comfortable between you two. you would almost go as far as to say you would consider him a friend. you do still sometimes have awkward moments though. like when you go down to the basement to change your laundry from the washer to the dryer and you find him already placing your garments in. “oh sorry,” he says, flustered, a tinge of pink dusting his cheeks at being caught. “i spilt some paint on myself earlier while touching up the trim outside and really needed to get some stuff in the washer. i was going to message you asking if all this stuff could go in the dryer.”

he’s so thoughtful, you think. “yeah, it can all go in. thanks, john!”

hours later when you’re finally putting away your clean laundry you realize some of your panties are missing. oh well, its an older dryer, must have eaten them.

its months layer when your stomach drops as you read a text from john asking if you could come upstairs later tonight, there was something he needed to talk to you about. you feel a flash of panic, his text sounding serious. did you do something wrong? you had just seen him the previous day and everything between you seemed fine. you thought you were a great renter, but now you weren’t so sure.

you make your way up to his place and he greets you at the door, usual soft smile on his face.

“i just wanted to get something out in the open,” he starts as you both take a seat on the couch. “i’ve noticed an odor coming from downstairs late at night.”

for a moment you have no idea what he could be talking about, an odor, you think and then it hits you. your late night smoke sessions. “oh, yeah.” it dawns on you. “i’m so sorry about that.”

“no, no, it’s fine.” he reassures, “i would be a bit of a hypocrite myself to be honest, i smoke cigars constantly. try to keep it to just the back balcony but sometimes i break my own rules.”

“yeah, i don’t do it in the apartment because that would be rude, but,” you wince, “sometimes i get a little too lazy to go outside so i just do it out my bedroom window.”

“ah, no worries, dear. just wanted to let you know that i know.”

with your panic subsiding you feel a little bold, “would you like to smoke a little, john?”

“if you’re offering, i’ll be on the balcony.”

you would have never imagined sharing a joint with john would lead you here. in his lap, legs splayed open with your pants around your ankles. listening to the wet sounds of your pussy as he dips his big fingers inside you, hitting all the right spots. your brain is floaty and your limbs feel weightless against his big body that surrounds yours.

there’s a constant stream of nonsense and whimpers that leaves your lips as you dumbly watch him pet your swollen clit. but its the filth from his mouth that really gets you. “such a pretty little thing fo’ me, huh?”

“this little cunt ‘s all mine, right?”

“i’ve been thinking about touching you like this since the day you moved in.”

“cum on my fingers, sweet girl, i know you want to.”

and you do, clenching around his fingers as you keen and moan through it. there’s a whispered, “good girl,” deep and gravelly in your ear before you’re being lifted into john’s arms as he carries you back inside, to his bedroom.

[passiveaggressiveturkeys]

It’s been over a week and am still trying to comprehend that a removal guy found a dead mouse under our sofa but instead of telling one of us (so we could dispose of it like sane people), he tied a string around its tail and hung it up in the doorway to annoy his colleagues while they carried out stuff out of the house

I mean literally that reads like someone with no writing ability trying to write a bad prank or something, I actually can’t even comprehend who would even think to do something like that it’s so disgusting

[ellethespaceunicorn]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Landlord!Ari + being caught watching you while you sleep

Well, it took me a couple of days but I did it!! Oh, and it's the longest drabble in the world. Did y'all know a drabble is only 100 words???? I thought it was 100-500...I still wrote way more than that, but still.

Title: No Good Deeds

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Summary: Moving out on your own is challenging, but your landlord, Mr. Levinson is kind and helpful. But he may want more from you than your tenancy.

Prompt: Landlord!Ari + being caught watching you while you sleep

Warnings: age gap (Ari is mid-40s, Reader is early-20s), yandere Ari, drugging, non-con fingering (f receiving), non-con p-in-v intercourse, non-con creampie, choking, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: Hahahaha this was supposed to be a drabble. Thank you to @peyton-warren for the beta!

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

Moving out on your own isn’t exactly the easiest thing for you. You spent four years living in your college dormitory, but you always had at least one roommate. So, signing a lease and accepting the single set of keys was a huge accomplishment.

Your landlord, Mr. Levinson, is so great. He told you to call him Ari more than once. From the first tour of the apartment to the day of your move-in, he offers his help in many ways. Where the best farmer’s market is, how to reach him if you need any repairs, and even when the local bars close are just a few tidbits he leaves you with.

You get to know him a bit more during a block party one Saturday night. The two of you talk over cheap beer, tamales from Señora Cruz, smoked brisket from Mr. Lorenzo, and lasagna from Mrs. Di Paolo. Ari seems like he is lonely, and your kind heart can’t stand to see someone in need. 

Before you know what you are getting into, you agree to have a weekly tea date with him. It’s during one of those visits that you realize that something is a bit odd about Ari. He tries to cover up how he knows what cabinet you keep your tea in, but he makes up some dumb excuse that it would just be “the perfect spot”.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom as he busies himself with setting the tea, and when you come back, a steaming mug is waiting for you on a saucer on your coffee table. Usually, you make the tea, but Ari wanted to help out, and you had a long day at work, so you accepted.

“What is in this tea? It’s almost spicy,” you ask, taking another big gulp of the tea you don’t recognize.

“Is it spicy? Well, it does have ginger and cinnamon in it. Some chamomile, too. A little benzodiazepine in there,” Ari clambers on, trailing off at the end.

“D-did you say benzo…dia…zep,” you slur, reaching for Ari as you sit on the couch, but you end up passing out with your head in his lap.

When you come to, you struggle to remember what happened. Your heavy head pounds as you turn it to the side before putting the heel of your hand to your still-closed eyes.

“Take it slow, Bunny. You must’ve been really tired,” he consoles, from the other side of your bed.

“Mr. Levin-”

“Uhn uh. Call me Ari; no more of that Mr. Levinson polite shit, ok?” he swears for the first time in your presence.

“Um, Ari… What are you doing in my bedroom?” you ask, your mind a blank slate from earlier.

“Oh, Bunny. You invited me over for tea, and then you weren’t feeling well, and you asked me to stay until you felt better. Next thing I know, I’m carrying you in here because you fell asleep on me with that sweet little face of yours right in my lap,” he comforts, the knuckles of his hand sliding down your face before he boops your nose.

“Why do you keep calling me Bunny?” you mewl, still trying to get in control of all your limbs.

“When you sleep, you furrow your eyebrows and scrunch up your nose like a little bunny. It’s one of the cutest things you do,” he admires, his hand now moving down your neck and through the valley of your breasts to get to where your skirt rides up your thigh.

“Mr.-Ari…I think I feel better now; you don’t have to-” 

Your words are cut off when Ari reaches under your skirt, and you specifically remember having on panties earlier today, but his fingers are touching your tender pussy directly. Did he take off your underwear?

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Must’ve been all that time I spent rubbing your cute little cunt through those white cotton panties. God, those little moans you were making went straight to my cock, Bunny. Feel it,” he dares, grabbing your hand and resting it against the thick outline of his dick through his Wranglers. 

While your hand is on his length, he shoves two of his fingers into your wet heat. At first, you are surprised by the shock of it. But soon, you can tell that he knows how to work your body. You scream out his name, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he shoves one hand over your mouth and gets close to your ear.

“You’re not gonna ruin this for me. You have been parading yourself around here like you’re some holier-than-thou sweet little thing. And I knew you’d end up letting me smash at some point. But I didn’t wanna wait anymore, Bunny. You have had me wrapped around that little finger of yours since you moved in. It’s time that I get what’s owed to me-what you’ve been flaunting in front of me,” he sneers, pulling his fingers out of you and sucking them clean before opening his pants and pulling his dick out.

He lines up with your sodden core before thrusting in with no grace or elegance. Slamming himself inside your tight snatch for the first time feels like he is splitting you in two. You’re no virgin, but you also don’t have much casual sex, so Ari’s thickness was a shock, to say the least.

“Sweet Bunny, you’re so tight. What a good girl! You’ve been waiting for me like I’ve been waiting for you, huh? Fuck, you’re like a fucking vice. You hear that, Bunny? Hear how that cunt loves it when I fuck it? Love that loud, sloshy pussy,” he beams, his wide hips between your legs making your joints hurt.

You’re in stunned silence as Ari uses your body to chase his release. Your mind is bringing up all the times it seemed like he was getting a little too close for comfort. All the times when he would talk to you about his divorce, or his current dating trend, or the fact that he once told you that a pretty thing like you belonged locked up in a tower for a prince to come and free you.

Did he think he was a charming prince?

“Oh, Bunny, fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer. Look at me; wanna see your eyes when I cum inside you,” he blurts, holding your face in his hands as you look into his dilated, hungry eyes. “Take it. Just. Like. That.” The last few words are punctuated with thrusts as he paints your walls with thick, milky ropes.

Once he closes his eyes, his hips remain still, and his forehead meets yours. This would be almost romantic if Ari didn’t make it beyond creepy by whispering how perfect you are and peppering kisses all over your face. His softening cock finally slips free from you, and you are happy to be empty until you feel the flow of his semen leaking from you. He notices your discomfort and mocks your whines as he pushes his jizz back into your swollen hole.

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” he starts, moving off of you to recline next to you, “Not gonna leave this bed ‘til you’re knocked up. As soon as you are, I’m gonna move you in with me. You are gonna be well taken care of, too. You are so perfect-every little thing about you. And when the baby comes, we are gonna be the perfect little family. You wouldn’t wanna ruin our family, right? You’re gonna be a good girl for me, huh?” he implores, holding your cheeks in his hand so your lips poke out a bit.

You nod while tears stream from your eyes, finding it hard to form words. But what would you have said? He seems to like you mostly silent; you haven’t uttered a single word since before he was inside you. It wasn’t too late to try, but it was too late to have hope; at least that’s what you told yourself.

“I don’t know about you, but I am starting to get hard again just looking at you. On all fours for me, Bunny. I know you got it in you,” he orders, no kindness in his voice.

You quickly scramble to get on your hands and knees for him and are happy that he is pleased with your speed. As he slides into your sensitive folds again, you grimace but hold in your noises of pain. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you hurt, even though what he is doing is traumatizing. He relishes in the gushy sounds your pairing makes and the mighty “oomph” you make when he wraps an arm around your neck and flattens you down to your belly.

He has you in a chokehold while his hips canter back and forth, plunging his length deeper and deeper inside you. When he hears you start to sputter and gulp in air, he removes his arm from around your neck and holds your face cheek-down on the bed.

“Look at her, taking my cock just like she should. You’ll be the prettiest little wife and mother, won’t you? Gonna keep you nice and round as much as I can. My perfect little Bunny…ugh, fuck,” he blurts, his release surprising him suddenly.

When he pulls out, he smacks your ass and lays down next to you while your life flashes before your eyes. He moves closer to you, readjusting your body to lay on top of his as he rubs your back. He kisses the top of your head in such a kind gesture that you feel your eyes stinging with unshed tears. 

You can’t even bring yourself to fully cry, the tears streaming down your face just to splash on Ari’s denim shirt. Forgotten and dried up to never be seen again.

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble!!!!

**Tag List**

I also didn't know who to tag since this is the first time I wrote Ari.

[moonstruckme]

Hey lovely! So I heard you're looking for asks for other than poly!marauders and I love them too, but here's one for tasm!peter parker x shy!reader maybe wherein reader is always saying sorry, like it's second nature to her

like peter gives her the coat she forgotten and she says oh sorry you had to come all the way here, or she was late in one of their dates and she's like sorry I made you wait, one time she notices she was talking too much and says sorry too and peter notices how she does this for everything he does for her and he says, you know, instead of saying sorry, you can say thank you and reader is like what do you mean? and peter is like, I love doing these things for you, you don't have to say sorry, you can say like thank you for waiting for me or thank you for listening to me and he's just so sweet and yeah

love you and your writing as always!

Love you <3

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’re waiting when Peter knocks, your bouncing knee rattling your coffee table while your roommate shoots you inscrutable looks out the side of her eye. You hop up at the sound, unlatching the door. 

“Hi.” You smile at him, grabbing a coat from the hook by the door. 

“Hey,” Peter says, mirroring your expression. He looks nice, you think. Well, Peter always looks nice, but tonight he looks all shined up and special. His hair is damp, evidence of comb marks in it, and his shirt looks like he might have actually ironed. You feel sort of honored. He holds up a heap of fabric. “Been missing this?” 

It takes you a second to identify it as your coat. Your favorite coat, which you spent most of the morning looking for. “Yes!” you gasp, reaching to take it from him. “I left it at your place the other day?” He nods, and you shake your head at yourself. “Sorry I stuck you with it, I could have sworn I wore it home.” 

“It’s no problem.” Peter shrugs. “It had warmed up by the time you left, so you probably weren’t thinking about it.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” You shake your head again, putting the substitute coat back on the hook and shrugging this one on. “Anyway, sorry. Are you ready to go?” 

“Yeah.” He steps back to let you out, leading you over to the stairs. “You look really nice,” he says, and you don’t know how he does it, keeping eye contact with you the whole time. Yours drop to your feet. 

“Thanks.” You smile down towards the steps. “So do you.” 

You think you can feel Peter’s grin burning into the side of your head. He changes the subject for your benefit. “You live on a pretty high floor, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh, breaths growing heavier even just descending. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you. You could’ve waited downstairs or something.” 

“Hey, I don’t mind.” He bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “You can’t help if your landlord didn’t spring for an elevator. How’d you find this place?” 

You huff a laugh. “Actually, it’s kind of a weird story.” 

“Ooh, okay.” There’s teasing in Peter’s tone, the kind you’ve come to recognize as his go-to flirting technique. “Now I’ve gotta hear it.” 

“Well, I responded to a post online about this girl looking for a pet sitter…” 

At some point, you work up the courage to look at him while you talk. Peter’s a good listener, nodding at all the right intervals, laughing at the funny parts, brown eyes warm and encouraging. You keep getting distracted by him, but he’ll pull you right back into the story with questions like “So wait, why would she move somewhere her cat wasn’t allowed?” and “It got that attached to you?”. By the time frigid air hits your face, you realize you’ve been talking for eight stories and then some. 

“Oh my gosh, sorry!” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. “I can’t shut up, can I?” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Peter tells you, just on this side of chiding. He grabs your hand from in front of your mouth, pulling it with his into his coat pocket and starting down the sidewalk at an amble. “I like hearing you.”

It takes everything in you not to wiggle your fingers in his. You hope you’re not blushing as badly as you feel like you are. “You haven’t gotten a word in since we left my place,” you tell him apologetically.  

“Like that’s such a long time.” He looks down at you, giving your hand a friendly squeeze. “But okay, fine, let’s talk dinner. What do you feel like?”

You shrug. “I’m good with anything.” 

“Perfect,” Peter says enthusiastically, “all my favorite foods are anything!” He grins at you sideways, worse when you roll your eyes. “Now tell me what you want to eat.” 

You blow out a breath, trying not to smile. “I don’t know.” 

“Sure you do,” he says lightly. “Come on. Greek, Mexican, Italian? Just throw it out there.” 

“Fine, maybe not Italian,” you admit, preoccupied with the way his thumb is running over your knuckles inside his coat pocket. “I had that last night. Um, do you like Irani food?” 

Peter makes a quiet humming sound. “Can’t say I’ve tried it. You know anywhere nearby?” 

“Yeah, there’s a place a couple blocks this way,” you say, then backtrack. “But we should get something you already know you like. What do you want to have?” 

“I want to have Irani food.” He grins down at you. “I’m always up for something new.” 

“No, come on.” You slow your pace, forcing him to match it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pick a place only I would like. We should go somewhere else.” 

“I really do want to try it,” Peter says, tone softening slightly. “It sounds good, and I wanna learn the things you like. Come on, sweetheart, let me do this.” He gives your arm a little tug, and reluctantly, you fall into step beside him again. 

“Sorry,” you murmur. 

Peter looks at you sideways. “You apologize a lot, you know that?”

You feel a bit of heat rise to your cheeks despite the chill. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”  

“You don’t have to,” he says conversationally. “I mean, I don’t mind doing this stuff for you. You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.” 

“I know.” 

“Do you?” 

You don’t, really. It feels like he should mind, like he should understand how indebted all these little things make you to him. “I just…want you to know that I know you’re inconveniencing yourself for me, if that makes sense.” You cringe at your awkward wording. “Just, that I’m not taking it for granted.” 

“None of it’s a real inconvenience,” he promises you, giving your hand a little squeeze. “You could always just say thank you.” 

You look up at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?” 

Peter shrugs. “I mean, I love doing things for you,” he says. “I don’t need any thanks, but instead of apologizing for, like, me bringing you your coat, you could just say thank you.” He looks down, giving you a small smile. His brown eyes are warm and gentle. “And then I’d say you’re welcome, and you could stop worrying about it so much.” 

“Oh,” you all but whisper. 

Peter’s patient, giving you the time you need to contemplate this while you walk, but after a minute he says, “Is this the place?” 

You look up to find you’re standing under the sign of your favorite restaurant. “Yeah,” you confirm, and he releases your hand to hold the door open for you. You shoot him a tiny smile. “Thank you.” 

Peter’s grin blows yours out of the water. “You’re welcome,” he replies warmly, following you through the door. His arm wraps around your shoulders, drawing you into his side as he leads you to the host stand. “Attagirl.” 

[ivystoryweaver]

Jingle Bells

Summary: Santiago is a flirty cute dork and you can’t stop me

Pairing: Santiago Garcia from Triple Frontier x gn!reader

Word Count: 800

Content: fluff, mentions of Christmas songs (but story doesn’t indicate what Santiago or reader celebrate, if anything), not beta’d

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"That'll be $73.07," you mumble to your customer, waiting as she runs her credit card through the machine before handing her a receipt.

Twelve hours on the cash wrap at work, scanning grocery item after item, dealing with faulty coupons, the holiday rush and fussy customers. Your feet are sore and you're dying to get off your shift in thirty minutes.

You picked up back-to-back shifts to pay for a plumbing bill your landlord refused to cover.

"Plumbing is the responsibility of the tenant," he groused at you last week. "Read your lease."

Without even a glance, your hand reaches to scan the next customer's items.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Happy holidays," a soothing tenor voice greets you.

"Happy holida - " You trip over your monotonous reply when your eyes meet the most beautiful man you've ever seen in person.

Sparkling brown eyes dance underneath thick eyebrows, arched in playful curiosity. A sprinkling of gray dusts his dark curly hair.

"Hi," he greets you, chomping playfully on his gum, which draws attention to the curve of luscious, full lips and the sexy stubble on his chin.

"Good afternoon," you manage, reminding yourself to continue scanning his groceries.

"Afternoon?" He shoots back, nodding toward the darkened windows at the front of the store. "It's 9:15."

"Oh. Right," you sheepishly chuckle.

"Long day?" the handsome man genuinely questions.

Your first instinct is to shrug him off with the run-of-the-mill small talk that comes as naturally as breathing to you, as a cashier.

But something happens - a contradiction that has your heart tripping over itself.

His eyebrows shift curiously, like a puppy, while, at the same time, a smug smirk curls the corner of that mouth.

"Uhh, yes," you admit, pausing, "the longest."

"I'm sorry," he sincerely returns, reaching to swipe his next grocery item for you. "Must be busy this time of year."

"Oh, god...sorry," you stammer, reaching to finish up his order.

"'S okay," he shrugs one shoulder. "You gonna be able to get out of here soon?"

"Not soon enough," you joke. "If I hear 'Jingle Bells' one more time, I can't be held responsible for my actions."

"Hmm," he nods and then he sings, "Dashing through the snow in a one-horse open sleeeiigghh..."

"Nooo, please stop," you find yourself laughing. Out loud. When was the last time you laughed?

"Are you sure? Because I do all the hits. Siiiilent niiiight - "

"Oh my god," you giggle, "you have a terrible voice."

He pretends to be offended, "Is this how you treat all your customers?" The corners of his warm brown eyes crinkle with amusement, letting you know he's still teasing. "Because if you smile at everybody like that, you must be the best cashier in this place."

"Could you hurry it up?" A grouchy customer behind this gorgeous man interjects, almost bouncing on her toes.

And just like that, you're deflated. This is why you don't waste your time caring. No point, no time to truly connect. Everyone is in such a damn hurry, especially this time of year.

"Sorry," you mumble, flustered as you start to bag the man's groceries.

"Hi, I'm Santiago," he greets the grinch behind him. "And this is... " he glances back at you, reading off your name tag. "Been a long day. Just trying make 'em smile. I'll get out of your way."

He flashes a stunning, yet disarming smile and the woman falters.

"Oh. I-it's okay."

"Thanks," he nods, shifting his attention back to you.

You give him the total. “Hang in there,” he winks. “Bet this place would fall apart without you.”

He leaves you stupefied, but smiling.

You can’t even remember the last time someone showed kindness and warmth to you, a simple cashier - let alone made you laugh.

The remaining 27 minutes of your shift feel a little lighter.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

One week later…

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Dashing through the snoooowww…”

Your eyes snap up to find Mr. Handsome next in your checkout line.

“This is gonna get awkward if you don’t remember me.” His dark eyebrows shoot up questioningly.

“Santiago…right?” Your cheeks feel warm as he flashes you that smile.

“Guilty,” he chuckles. “I really am dying to see what happens when ‘Jingle Bells’ pushes you over the edge.”

“Don’t try me,” you laugh, scanning his grocery items. "Nobody wants me to lose control in here."

"Maybe somewhere else then," he cooly suggests, with the cutest eyebrow wiggle. "Maybe a restaurant? Or a bar? We could grab a drink when you get off?"

Your mouth drops open. "That...was..."

"Pretty smooth, right?" He grins. "Yeah, I've found that singing off key holiday songs is the way to go."

You laugh for about the twentieth time since you met Santiago.

And you go for that drink.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

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[flusteredtuna]

YES, CHEF!

Carmen Berzzato“The Bear” x !fem! reader

Contains: ( 18+ Mature Only ) praise, first kiss, head, and x-men movie.

Words: 2k+

Summary: Carmen, a good friend, shows up unexpectedly at your door late at night. Tipsy. And things obviously take a turn as he sobers up and you learn the true nature of his visit. ( no under the influence… do not fret )

I used a scene from Netflix’s series ‘Good Girls’ season 4 episode 6, as a main plot point and used the begging dialogue. I won’t name the scene as to not spoil the show ( it’s not a big plot point and the fanfic does not spoil it either. ) you can watch the clip here.

This was written for a friend 💕 ( and i had to repost due to an error ) This is also the second fan-fiction I have ever completed, so enjoy.

It’s a relaxing Saturday evening in your quaint charming little apartment on the third floor. Warm lighting, antique cabinet, quilted blanket covering your lap, and a warm homemade mug of Earl Grey tea in your hand as you read your book.

knock. knock. KNOCK.

A heavy and lazy hand knocks on your landlord’s special white front door. It’s 10 p.m., who could be knocking on the door? You un-tuck yourself from your spot on the couch and with tea in hand, you head toward the door and open it.

It’s Carmen. You’ve been friends for about a year now, friends with feelings for half that time. You met through a mutual friend, one who works at his restaurant. The relationship between you two is close and has only gotten closer with having the same friend group. But even with the tension in the room during every group hangout, he’s never made a move. And neither have you. Maybe it’s because of his girlfriend. Who didn’t show up to game nights.

And yet here he is, making an unexpected visit to your apartment.

“This isn’t my house,” he says. He smells of beer and is definitely not sober. Both his arms hold his body up as he leans in your doorframe.

“Hey yourself…” your face is twisted with confusion. Carmy never came over, at least not by himself. “Are you…tipsy? Fried? any other word for not sober?” You try to figure him out enough to make him go away before it turns into something else.

He chuckles a bit, “Just a bit buzzed”.

“Why are you in my doorway, Carmen?” You lean against the open door.

“I was at the bar, with friends. Karaoke bar.” He huffs as he finishes his sentence which seems hard to get out of his mouth.

“I don’t even know who to feel sorry for there” you respond. A look of worry mixed in with your confusion.

You stare at each other for what feels like the longest five seconds of your life. His mouth hung open a little.

“I can’t be with her anymore” You wince at his words and your heart drops to your toes. Did he just say that? Has he told her?

“You should go home,” trying to prevent something from progressing.

“I don’t want to go home” he quickly responds

“Then you should go somewhere else” You grab the door leaning away, ready to close it on him. Although you don’t want to, you know you should.

“Can I uh- just please come in?” Starting to close the door he pushes back a bit “No, Carmy. Please trust me, just go home.” He places a firm hand on the door and abruptly says, “I think I’m gonna crap myself.”

You stop and look at him. It’s unbelievable that this is what made you stop. You swing the door open and do the same with your other arm, gesturing to him to enter. He walks in, and heads for the bathroom.

Setting your tea down you sit on the couch waiting for him to come back, you try to think of anything else other than the fact that Carmen is in your home. Possibly with the intention of cheating on his girlfriend with you. Attempting to stare at the patchy rug to find some sort of escape. The goal now was to just make sure he didn’t do anything crass.

He walks out of the bathroom and immediately slumps himself on the floor against the couch right next to you. “I wouldn’t go in there for at least 30 minutes.”

Raising your brows and giggling, “Feeling any better?”

Carmen doesn’t even look at you, he just looks straight on. “Not really.” He rubs his hands together.

“I broke up with Sarah.” He says quietly. Yet another string of words that makes your heart drop.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You try to be reassuring but you’re not sure how to be in this situation. “Do you want to talk about it?” Carmen looks at you, his eyes glossy from his buzz.

“Nah.” You tilt your head at him and then look over at the TV, catching the slight reflection of your two figures lounging on the comfy yellow couch. “Do you want to watch something?”

Carmen’s nods face towards the black screen of the TV, and you reach for the remote to turn something on. “X-men?” you suggest as he gets up and sits on the other end of the couch. One person’s width away from you.

“X-Men it is.” He slurs his words a bit as he gestures to the TV with a hand and flops it back down in his lap. Turning on the movie, you make yourself comfortable by shifting your legs to bend and your feet resting on the middle cushion, pulling the blanket over you. Even with him sitting glued to the arm of the other end, you both are still somehow too close.

As the movie passes, the tension stands. Seeing each other glancing out of the corner of their eyes now and then doesn’t help. Finally, Carmey opens up a bit and starts to comment on the movie, “You know, I don’t know why they cast Evan Peters for this when he plays that other guy in that Wanda show. Fuckin’ stupid.” He sounds more like himself now, which eases the tension, making this situation a little more comfortable.

“Yeah I think there’s a theory about that,” You both continue to talk throughout the movie, he seems to sober up. It’s nice hanging out with him like this. Although the circumstances aren’t 100% preferred, you don’t seem to mind it anymore.

The movie ended with you both laughing at a conversation completely unrelated. Whatever it was it was something way more entertaining to both of you. So long of a conversation that the credits end. You both look over to the screen again. A prompt asking “How would you rate this film?”.

“Well, I guess it ended.” You chuckle a bit but look over at him, seemingly back in his head again. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that.

Now sitting up against the arm of the couch and crossing your legs, you feel like you should say something.

“You know the best wa-“ he interrupts you “I broke up with her so I could see you.”

Your eyes meet as he looks over to you, now sitting up a bit more. “Carmy I-“ interrupting you again “Y/N, I don’t want you to feel guilty or anything. I know this is a lot,” he puts a hand to his temple and starts to get a little more passionate in his speech. Almost defensive. “Shit. I just couldn’t see you without leaving and not feel fuckin’ guilty!” His hand gestures around as he speaks, like he’s in the kitchen talking to his staff.

“Carmen!” You try to steer the conversation away from him getting louder, “Why would you feel guilty?” You know the answer to that.

He rests a hand on his lap and his other on his temple again. Releasing a deep exhale, he looks at you. “Maybe I wanted to uh-,” he hesitates for a moment to look you up and down. “Feel something…else.”

You can feel the flush rushing to your cheeks so quickly after he says this. With wide eyes and raised brows, you try to pull out your best response, “Feel what? Pressed about…Marvel casting?”

He chuckles and moves a smidge towards you, putting a bent leg up on the couch, “No no no. no. Jesus. That, that’s ridiculous.” You smile a bit at his amusement, “Then what is it, Carmy?”

Rubbing his face and letting out another huff, he sounds like he’s holding back. And you aren’t sure if you want him to keep it bottled or release it.

Continuing to look at you with starry eyes, he rests an arm on the back of the couch. “Fuck. Look. I don’t want to be too forward and I definitely don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” You press your lips together in anticipation of what he’s about to say, “It’s something that I’ve felt for a while and I’ve been fucking ignoring it.” He pauses again and takes another huff, taking a look at the door. “I should just go.”

As he gets up you grab his wrist, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Carmy,” his eyes soften as he looks at you, “you don’t need to leave.”

As you let go of his wrist he sits next to you, closer. “It’s kind of obvious.” You chuckle a bit through your words. It is obvious. You’ve noticed this tension for a while now, he’s only just confirming it.

“What is? That I like you?” His tone is almost defensive like he was caught. A smile creeps on your face, “I mean…Marcus has noticed it too.” He raises his brows, surprised. “He said the tension is thicker than his dark chocolate mousse.” Carmen laughs at this, and so do you. It’s a sweet moment.

He pushes his hair back from falling more in his face, “I uh, I’m sorry I showed up like this.”

“If you mean showing up drunk at my door to use my bathroom and then sobering up while watching X-men with me…” You make it sound like a bigger deal than it is just to tease him.

“No yea, shit. I’m sorry I-”

“Then it’s more than fine.” Laughing again, like you are the only two people in the world. You both exchange a smile looking deeper into each other’s eyes.

“You’ve always had a nice laugh.” He says putting his arm back on the couch, and leaning in a bit.

“You do too.” It all feels like a dream. The fact that he’s here, making a move on you.

He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, so effortlessly, that you wish you could stay in that moment forever.

You look away for a moment, clearly a bit flustered, “Are you sure you aren’t still tipsy?” turning back you notice he’s gotten a little closer.

“I’m positive I’m sober.” He chuckles again.

You start to lean in a bit, not realizing that you have until your noses are about five inches apart from one another. His hand was still near your face, resting on the back of the couch beside you.

Looking at your lips he begins to say, “I uh. Just-”. He doesn’t even finish his thought. He’s too distracted by his lips on yours.

It was a soft kiss, one you’ve been waiting for, for the longest time. Pulling back you find his hand on your cheek caressing it. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He says, with a breath of relief that the hard part was over.

Jaw dropped, you look at his mouth again. He catches this and charges at you for another kiss, this time more intense. You hold both of his cheeks in hopes of him staying put. He almost hovers over you as you both continue to make out.

Soft and quiet moans escape your mouth as he reaches down one of his hands to feel the sides of your arms. Then tracing back up to your cheek. He pulls back. Your lips burn with sensation.

“Carmen,” the words escape your mouth through heavy breathing, “are you sure this is okay.”

He puts a hand to your chin, “Yes.” he kisses your cheek. “I wanna take care of you.” Your brain swarms with ideas of what he could mean.

You smile in approval while taking his free hand and putting it to your breast. He smirks as he follows his hand and where it landed. “Then take care of me.”

With a firm squeeze, he touches you through your shirt, while he moves his face towards your neck and kisses it. He takes his time reaching under your shirt to explore you with more satisfaction.

Caressing your nipple with his pointer and his thumb, already making you weak. And he watches as your face curls in pleasure.

Carmen then lifts your shirt to sit just above your breasts and kisses the center, making his way over the hill of your other breast and biting the peak. It makes you gasp. He puts a hand under the curve of your other breast and messages it.

Your soft moans only make him want you more.

He moves away for a moment, and you open your eyes to watch him, “wha- what is it.” He smirks and lifts the blanket you’re under, just enough to reach his arm in to place a hand on the side of your thigh. Scooting closer he leans over you now slouched on the couch.

Suddenly you’re kissing again, passionately. He feels your thigh up and down gripping it, then moving to the inside. Parting your legs he reaches a hand up from the bottom of your shorts, under your panties to grab your hip. Like it’s his. Then firmly and slowly sliding it back out.

“Take… them off.” You whisper through kisses. Pulling away he smiles and looks at your drowsy eyes. Without saying anything he lifts the blanket further and now using both his hands he tugs on your waistband, taking away the sleep boxers you had been wearing.

Touching you again in that spot that’s so sensitive, he teases you. Denying the pleasure of having the fabric between you and his fingers, out of the way. Your moans continue, still soft, as he caresses you further. The intensity builds as your lips meet again.

Backing away, he lifts the blanket once more, but now going in head first. Your heart drops, you know exactly what he has in mind.

With his head between your thighs he kisses your soft spot, and then taking both his hands on either side of your drawers, he pulls them off revealing you.

Carmen uses his fingers to carefully open you up like a flower, kissing the bud. He’s so gentle that you do feel like you’re being taken care of.

But then you suddenly feel another sensation. His tongue is on you. Swirling around. It makes you moan louder as your back arches. Ribs reaching for the sky. You grab onto the couch to try and ground yourself, but it doesn’t help much.

“You’re so wet for me.” He feasts upon you and now takes two of his fingers and plays with your entrance, spreading your wetness around like butter on a hot skillet. His free arm is wrapped around your thigh, holding on tight to keep you steady.

As he tastes you more and more. The finest dish. You lift your end of the blanket with the small strength you have and watch his head back away from your clit to look at you as he puts two fingers inside you. He starts to push them in and out of you and you throw your head back moaning in absolute hot delight.

“Look at me.” His demand is so dominating. Again, sounding like he’s in the kitchen.

“Make me.” You say through a heavy moan. He pulls his fingers out making you gasp grabbing your chin and pulling your face down to meet his eyes. “Yes, Chef”. He chuckles a bit, letting you get away with that one. You knew he might be thinking about that during his next shift.

You watch as he goes back down, shoving his fingers back inside. Gripping the couch once again louder moans escape your mouth. Picking up his pace you can feel him hitting your walls in the best way. “Fuck, Carmy…” You manage to moan out.

The closer you get the more you surrender to his pace as it gets faster. Your body clenches around him, making it tighter and tighter for him. “Cum for me.”

You nod your head rapidly as you’re too stimulated by the pleasure. Your back arches even further and you become stiff in your position as he hits the spot so perfectly. This is what you’ve been waiting for. The peak of your gratification inches closer and closer.

Finally…you gasp in ecstasy, his fingers still inside you pounding. “That’s it.” He whispers moving away from eating you out, to just using his fingers. Watching you as you finish on them.

Carmen pulls his fingers out slowly, watching your overstimulated body heave heavy breaths. He scoots your legs to the side to lie beside you on the couch. Between catching up with your lungs you manage to speak. “Carmen, you…” You take a clarifying breath as he props himself up on his arm, looking at you as he lays beside you. “You’re really good at that.”

He chuckles, “Of course I am, I eat for a living.” He tucks your hair away behind your ear, and you both take a moment to be present as your tummy buzzes with butterflies.

[thepixelelf]

the only way to get a good sleep

genres: established relationship, fluff!! pairing: reader x seokmin words: 1.3k warnings: none :] notes: this is for elv @seokmins day! ((it's technically a recast of an old fic of mine so I'm just praying you haven't read that one shhhhhh))

Seokmin misses you lots n lots.

Seokmin hasn’t slept in days.

That’s an exaggeration, of course, but any sleep he’s gotten has been fitful, restless, and generally not a good time.

He never really thought you’d be a catalyst like this. You only moved in two weeks ago -- some of your boxes are still sitting unopened in the living room, waiting for you to unpack them. The closet and dresser space Seokmin freed up for you remains half empty, since you were both too lazy to fully move in, more focused and elated on the fact that you’d finally done it. Seokmin had taken weeks, no, months to finally ask the question, and the way you’d answered so easily (with a smile, a laugh, and a hug) made it seem like all his worrying was ridiculous. The move was stressful, and cancelling your rent with your previous landlord was a nightmare, but the fact that you to would be together made Seokmin see everything through rose-tinted glasses. He didn’t care what he had to go through as long as you shared a home at the end of the day.

Of course, you two had slept in the same bed many times before you moved in, but somehow this was different. In the past two weeks, Seokmin swore he woke up already smiling, simply because you were there; beside him; living with him.

But since you left two days ago, he hasn’t slept a wink.

He knows you’re not gone forever, but still, he just can’t force his eyes to close; his breath to even out; his mind to rest. And he doesn’t know when exactly you’ll be back, either, considering your impromptu trip back to your family’s home wasn’t planned at all.

His mind wanders to the last message you sent him.

[my moonlight] miss you too, my sunshine

He lies still on top of the bedsheets, eyes trailing along the bumps and ridges of the ceiling. Sleep won’t come tonight, either -- he can tell.

Maybe he should call you. Last time he tried that (the night before), it got him about an hour of light sleep before he woke up again, but at least it was something. He needs to work tomorrow, and he isn’t sure he can keep his eyes open there after three nights of tossing and turning.

Sitting up, his hand wanders along the bed looking for his phone, which he picks up and detaches from its charger. It’s midnight already. Should he risk waking you up?

Well, he knows you have your phone on silent most of the time, so if you are asleep, he won’t be bothering you. He’s got nothing to lose.

The dial tone rings in his ear twice before he flops back down on the bed, his other hand coming to rest upon his stomach. After another two rings, he almost gives up, but then your voice makes an appearance, and he smiles.

“Trouble sleeping?” is the first thing you say. You really know him too well.

“Yeah... it’s just not the same without you.”

Along with faint footsteps, he hears your quiet laughter through the speaker. “You cheeseball.”

“I mean it,” he says, and he does. “What are you up to?”

“Are you asking me to talk until you fall asleep?”

His smile widens, and he knows he should be trying to keep still in order to fall asleep, but he can’t help it. “Only if you’re willing.”

“Well.” Something dings around you. “As much as I’d love to lull you to sleep, I need you to do something for me.”

“Hm?” Seokmin perks up, his interest piqued.

“I got you something,” you say. “It should be at your door in, hm, twenty seconds?”

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands, still holding his phone up to his ear. His lips purse in confusion.

“How’d you get it up here? Deliveries go to the lobby desk.”

“Oh, I have my ways.” Somehow, Seokmin can hear your smile. “Just open the door.”

Knowing you, Seokmin simply complies, leaving the bedroom to reach the door to the apartment hall. He’s a bit too tired to understand much, but he knows anything from you is worth getting out of bed for. After fumbling with the chain lock, he finally twists the doorknob.

You stand just beyond the doorway, your phone held up at your ear and a bright smile on your face.

“Hey stranger.”

Too tired to comprehend what’s right in front of him, he still speaks into his phone. “You didn’t tell me you were coming back.”

You humour him, talking into your phone as well. “I wanted to surprise you. Did it work?”

He nods. “Uh huh.”

When he sees you laugh and hang up, he glances at his phone to do the same, still awestruck to have you standing there.

“C’mere you big softie, I missed your hugs,” you say, opening up your arms.

Seokmin smiles again and swoops in to wrap his arms around you. He relishes in your warmth, a smile against the skin of your neck -- which he knows you can feel. Slowly, he closes the door behind you and waddles with you through the apartment. It’s awkward with the way he clings to you, but he doesn’t care. He takes you all the way to the bedroom, flopping down on the bed with you squished underneath, and his heart flutters at your laughter.

“What’s this?” you tease.

“You were gone too long,” he says instead of answering, and you laugh again.

Despite your playful words, you soothingly pat the back of Seokmin’s head as you speak. “Well, it’s not every day your kid sister dumps her fiance.”

“She’s not a kid anymore.”

“To you, maybe,” you counter. “To me, she’ll always be my kid sister.”

Seokmin hums into your skin, already feeling the effects of holding you in his arms. He’s insanely tired. Still, he cares enough to ask, “How is she?”

“Heartbroken.” You sigh, a frown on your lips that Seokmin can guess is there rather than see it. “But she’ll get better. She’s strong like that.”

“Mhmm...” Seokmin’s eyes are closed -- have been since falling into bed with you -- and he’s starting to drift off. Before he can fully lose himself though, he lifts up on his elbows so he hovers above you, a drowsy smile on his face. He dips low, meeting his lips with yours in a soft, lazy kiss. You reciprocate at the exact same level, simply pursing your lips and not asking for anything more. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you say, closing your eyes to kiss him again.

Seokmin can’t say which kisses of yours are his favourite; he thinks he may get a new one every time. Whenever your lips are on his will be his favourite, he thinks.

He presses his forehead to yours, mirroring your wide smile with one of his own, eyes drifting shut once again. Collapsing on top of you, he hugs you tight, ready to fall asleep right then and there atop the covers.

“Seokmin,” you whisper, kissing his temple and twisting so you’re on your side. “I need to brush my teeth.”

He groans; hugs you tighter.

You laugh. Your hands move to push him off, though you put no real effort into it. “I gotta change too, sunshine. I’ll be right back.”

Propping himself up again, Seokmin opens his eyes to meet your sparkling ones.

“Hey,” he says. He kisses you again, and your smile persists.

“Hey.”

You reach your hands up to cup his cheeks, grazing your thumbs over his skin as if to test that he’s real. He loves when you do that.

His lips meet yours; soft, warm.

“You wanna get married?”

“Mmm...” you hum in a sleepy daze. Your hands pull him down for yet another kiss, this one lasting longer, though still as sweet and slow as the others. When you retract, you wrap your arms around his neck and whisper in his ear, “Can I brush my teeth first?”

Seokmin sleeps better tonight than he ever has before.

part two: How to Harvest Sunshine

[cl3fairyyy]

routine : part 2 || edward nashton x GN!reader ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

summary || you and edward finally go on a date

warnings || eddie is a liiiittle more stalker-y in this one, smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of edward following reader home and just overall being his strange little self, this fic does get a little suggestive (no actual smut) so please MDNI!!!! i think that's everything, if i forgot anything i am so sorry </3 this fic is mostly just fluff with a side of awkward first date small talk

word count || 4.5k

notes || i am so sorry for the long wait on part 2!! been having the worst writers block of my life and my job has been taking over my life atm </3 but it is finally here!! i had so much fun writing this one, definitely thinking of doing a part 3 if u guys want it :)) apologies if at any point eddie is too OOC, he's definitely a little more confident in this one hehe. also this pic of paul is EXACTLY how I imagined him looking while writing this

You arrive back at your dingy apartment later than you had planned and, admittedly, a lot tipsier than you had wanted to be.  

You shove your key into the crappy broken lock that your landlord refuses to fix and jiggle it around for several moments until you finally hear a click. Opening the door, you sway on your feet a little before stumbling over to the couch, kicking the door shut behind you; when you plop down on the velvety throw you use to cover up the horrible cracking leather of your equally horrible sofa, you sigh and throw your head back, allowing a smile to play onto your face.  

He had asked you on a date.  

You keep replaying the interaction in your head, mentally swooning at how Edward had lit your cigarette for you, how he had been so close that you could smell the laundry detergent on his clothes. You giggle like a schoolgirl, hugging one of your cushions as you fish around in your bag for your phone. You have to suppress a giddy squeal when you are greeted with not one, but three messages from a random number, one you can only guess belongs to Edward. You feel dizzy unlocking your phone, and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or your nerves.  

Hi, it’s Edward. I hope you have a lovely rest of your night.  

I really liked talking to you today. You’re a very interesting person.  

Are you okay? It's late, did you get home safe?  

It takes everything in you to not dreamily sigh like you’re in a fucking rom-com. He's concerned about me, you think, typing a reply with a lopsided smile on your face.  

hiii yes im fine!! just made it home : )  

im vry drunk lol  

Immediately the grey typing bubble pops up and you launch your phone across the room, scrambling to the fridge to open the half-empty bottle of slightly too expensive rosé that you have been saving for the next time you rewatch Fleabag.   

You hear your phone ding twice and gingerly pick it up from underneath the coffee table, your hands shaking.  

Oh, good to hear that you’re safe haha. I was about to head back to the bar to see if you were okay.  

That was a joke by the way.  

You can’t stop a smile from spreading across your face. You take a swig from the bottle and begin typing.  

yea im sure it was lol  

it was nowhere near as interesting after u left. u were in such a hurry too are u ok??  

Edward’s cheeks grow red when he reads your second message. You think he’s interesting? Are you hinting that you would’ve preferred if he stayed?  

Wish I could have stayed for a bit longer haha, just had some work at home that I couldn’t get my mind off, so wanted to take another crack at it.  

Obviously, he can’t tell you that his work isn’t just some simple tax fraud, but a potential money laundering scandal that ties all the way back to Maroni and your own boss. He knows at this point, though, that you’re too polite to question him.  

u sure do work a lot!!!! idk how u havent burnt out yet.   

try to get some rest if u can : ) its not like the work wont be there tmrw!!!!  

Edward smiles. You are so lovely to him; the idea that someone like you could show so much kindness to him makes his heart swell and his eyes fill with tears. A few run down the tip of his nose and plop onto his phone screen.  

I know, I know. Sometimes it feels like I can’t switch my brain off haha. It’s been in overdrive since I got home.  

He cringes at himself. Is he meant to text so formally? You're pretty much the only contact in his phone besides his landlord and the office. He glances down at his screen, noticing that you’ve read his message but haven’t started typing an answer, and immediately begins to panic.  

Of course someone like you couldn’t like him. He was a fool to think you were any different than anyone else in this shithole of a city. You’re probably still sat with your colleagues at that shitty bar, reading out his messages and all having a good old laugh at him. Everyone get a load of Nashton! you're probably saying, and he feels sick to his stomach.   

soso sorry my phone just died out of nowhere!!! i srsly did not mean to leave u on opened  

honestly i get u i can be like that. its probably worse for u tho bc ur so smart lol  

whats been sending the brain of eddie into overdrive tonight??  

Edward shakes his head at how silly he’s being. It would be funny if he didn’t feel so pathetic. He reads your messages over and over until his eyes burn; no one has ever given him a nickname before. Eddie. He rereads the nickname, trying to imagine how it would sound coming out of your mouth. His mind begins to wander, picturing you lying beneath him, bare chest heaving as you moan that name to him. Eddie.  

He's snapped out of his thoughts when his phone lights up again with a notification from his news app. He attempts to push down his building arousal before it completely clouds his mind, and scrambles for his phone to send you a reply.   

It’s a little embarrassing, but... I have been thinking non-stop about the conversation we had outside.  

I really would like to take you out, if you’ll let me. If you’d like to pick where we go so you feel more comfortable, I’m happy with that. I’m sure you know much nicer places to go than I do anyway haha.  

You squeal at your phone, kicking your feet in the air like a goddamn teenager. You hastily type a reply, and soon enough you’ve made plans for Sunday to go to a lovely downtown jazz club that plays live music. It's one of your favourite spots in the whole city.  

You fall asleep fairly quickly after throwing yourself on your bed still fully clothed. You don’t think twice about how bad your hangover will be when you wake up, instead picturing your date with Edward and just how lovely he is.  

Edward, on the other hand, stays up all night, his thoughts rife with anxiety. You'd had one conversation in a loud bar, and now he’s expected to keep you entertained for an entire evening? What if you didn’t find him interesting? What if he ran out of things to talk about? What if you stood him up entirely?  

He shakes his head, trying as hard as he can to shake the thoughts from his brain entirely. He opens your social media, which he has found himself doing every time he seems to be on the verge of a panic attack recently. He finds his favourite picture of you, a candid photo of you in a coffee shop mid-laugh, your eyes sparkling and cheeks rosy. He loves your smile in this picture.  

He hopes he can make you smile like that.  

Saturday goes by painfully slowly for you. The dragging hours aren’t helped by your awful hangover that seems to have convinced your brain that any slight movement will have you vomiting. You cringe rereading the messages you sent Edward the evening prior, hangxiety hitting you like a train.  

Eddie? Seriously?  

You have one conversation with the guy and have already started throwing nicknames around- you're in shock that you didn’t scare him off with how forward you were being. If he brings it up, you can always blame it on how drunk you were, which isn’t exactly a lie.  

He doesn’t text you until later in the evening, just a simple message confirming that you’re still on for tomorrow. You wonder if he’s as nervous as you are, if his anxiety manifests itself in the way he chews at his lower lip the same way you do.  

When Sunday finally rolls around, you wake up extra early to give yourself as much time to get ready as humanly possible. You would never admit it to anyone, but you’d picked out your outfit the night before and laid it on your desk chair, your nervous excitement barely allowing you to get a wink of sleep.   

Edward had offered to pick you up, but you really do not need him seeing the shithole you live in the first time he sees you outside of work. You both agree to meet outside the bar, and since it’s in walking distance from your apartment, you decide against getting a taxi.  

Gotham is strangely beautiful in March, the last moments of winter finally coming to fruition. The sun is just beginning to set when you step out into the chilly air, casting an orange glow on the old buildings and warming your cheeks against the cold.   

Edward’s heart races as he clumsily stumbles out of the subway station. He's almost twenty minutes early and grasps a cluster of lilies in one hand, the other of which he uses to steady himself against a lamppost. The lady from his favourite podcast whispers soothingly in his ear as he attempts to block out the loudness of the city and steady his breathing.  

“You are strong, and you are worthy. Be the change you want to see.”  

He closes his eyes, taking deep breaths before finally grounding himself. Edward is all too aware of how he must look right now: sweaty, clutching a bouquet of flowers while standing alone outside a bar. He glances at his watch. Still ten minutes until your meeting time.  

He tries to ignore the lump in his throat and the stinging in his eyes. You will show up. You have to.  

Edward jumps slightly when his phone chimes in his pocket. His heart drops when he realises it’s a text from you.  

so sorry!!! running a few mins late :/ decided to walk today and ofc that’s the day that every traffic light in the city decides to break LOL  

The light-hearted tone in your message doesn’t do much to comfort him. He types a short answer and sends it, trying to focus all of his energy on his podcast and not crying from how utterly terrified he is.  

Ten minutes after your initially agreed upon meeting time, Edward hears a voice shouting his name. He looks up to be met with the image of you practically sprinting down the street towards him. You pull to a stop in front of him, smoothing your hair down and smiling bashfully up at him. Christ, you forgot how tall he is.  

“Before you say anything, I am so sorry. First there was the traffic light thing, then one of my old college friends stopped me in the street and decided that she wanted to update me on every single day of the past three years of her life.”  

You breathe in heavily through your nose, your hands on your knees as you try and keep yourself from keeling over. You make a mental note to begin using that gym membership you keep renewing. Quitting smoking would probably help, too.  

You look up when Edward hasn’t responded for several moments, and his cheeks are very pink.  

“Look, you have every right to be pissed at me. If you want to cancel-”  

Before you can finish, Edward interrupts you by thrusting a bouquet of flowers into your hands.  

“Th-these are for you. I, um, remembered you mentioning lilies were your favourite flower, so...” He stumbles over his words, talking just a little too fast. 

You're quite literally lost for words. You examine the flowers, your cheeks growing warm; it's a lovely spray of pink, yellow and orange lilies, tied together with a cream ribbon. They’re a little crumpled, but nothing that can’t be fixed with a little plant food. You smile at Edward.  

“Oh, Edward. They're gorgeous, really, thank you. No guy’s ever gotten me flowers before...”  

A small, lopsided grin spreads across his face.   

“I can’t imagine why anyone lucky enough to have you wouldn’t get you flowers.”  

You flush at that, and loop your arm around his, leading him inside. You manage to find a nice booth in the corner, away from the stage and speakers that surround it while Edward heads to the bar. You anxiously drum your fingers on the table and scroll through your phone, not really paying attention to what you’re meant to be reading as your mind replays what Edward had said earlier.  

Edward watches you from the bar, admiring the high flush on your cheekbones and the way your outfit hugs your body. By the time he’s ordered and heading back to your table, you seem a little more relaxed. You smile at him gratefully as you accept your drink and try not to make your staring too obvious.  

He looks handsome. He's wearing such a basic outfit, just a simple button up shirt and some smart slacks, but there’s something about Edward wearing something so casual and making it look so good that has you crossing your legs under the table.  

“You look lovely tonight, by the way.”  

You smile shyly at him, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass.  

“Thank you, Edward. I have to say, you clean up pretty good yourself.”  

He laughs, and you don’t miss the way it sounds like it's one of disbelief.  

“Well, I don’t know if I’d say that.”  

You roll your eyes playfully, taking a sip of your drink.  

“Well, I would. You look really handsome.”  

Edward shakes his head, a bashful smile on his face as he looks down, taking a sip of water. The pair of you sit there for a few moments in awkward silence, trying to think of something to start a conversation with. 

“So-” 

“You-” 

You lock eyes and both laugh, cheeks red. You wave your hand. 

“Sorry, you go.” 

Edward averts his gaze, fiddling with his collar. 

“I, um, was just going to ask how you found this place? I’ve never even heard of it. Well, I suppose the fact I don’t drink and don’t listen to jazz music doesn’t help, but...” 

Edward finds himself trailing off, kicking himself for how utterly awkward he is. The way you smile at him, unfazed, doesn’t help. 

How could someone like you ever find any interest in someone like him? 

“It’s a funny story, actually. My old roommate was on a date with this absolute dick, and she needed me to come save her. So, what happened was....” 

As you tell him the grandiose story of having to pretend to be your roommates' partner who caught her cheating, and how you had to run away when her date attempted to fight you, Edward can’t help but admire the way your eyes light up as you gesture wildly with your hands, the way your laugh comes out as an adorable snort when you attempt to do an impression of her very flustered date.  

You are so beautiful. He wishes he could capture this moment in a bottle and replay it every day, for the rest of his life. 

He doesn’t realise how much he’s staring until you clear your throat a little awkwardly, clearly finished with your tale. He can feel the warmth on his cheeks. 

“Ah, well, I do hope you don’t have some secret boyfriend who’s going to jump out on me like that.” 

He bites his lip after saying whatever the hell that was, but to his complete disbelief you laugh. Not a pity laugh, not one of discomfort, but a genuine laugh, one that’s just a little too loud, one that disturbs some of the patrons around you. 

You clearly don’t care, your head thrown back as that smile, that lovely smile from his favourite picture spreads across your face. Even as you speak, uncontrollable giggles escape you. 

“Oh God, can you imagine? Lucky for you, I’ve been single for a while, so don’t worry about my secret boyfriend coming in and trashing the place.” 

That makes Edward laugh, much to your pleasure, and just like that, the tension in the air has dissolved. You can see Edward’s tense shoulders visibly relax, and the next few hours are spent under the warm light of the bar’s lamps, your conversations hushed and filled with longing glances, and it feels like you’re the only two people in the world that exist. 

The two of you step out into the bitter cold of the evening, hands fumbling for your respective cartons of cigarettes. Your shivering hands are somehow able to summon a flame from your crappy old lighter, and the alcohol in your system, as well as the way Edward looks at you with such adoration in his eyes, warm you from the inside out. He offers you his arm and you take it maybe just a little too enthusiastically as you walk through the city streets. 

When you look up at Edward, he’s already got his eyes on you, the tip of his nose pink from the late winter air. You can feel the flush spreading across your face, quickly averting your eyes to the sparkling lights of the skyscrapers. 

Edward retracts his arm from yours, and you look up at him again, confused and somewhat offended. He’s shrugging his parka off his shoulders and draping it over your own before you can even comprehend what’s happening. 

“You’re shivering. You might not feel cold because you’ve been drinking, but I can see the goosebumps on your arms.” 

He says this so matter-of-factly. Does he not realise how romantic and thoughtful his actions are? He opens his mouth to speak again, but you interrupt him. 

“Thank you.” 

He offers you that adorable lopsided grin that accentuates just how round and soft his cheeks are. 

“It’s really no problem. I don’t want you getting sick.” 

Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s just how perfect the night has been. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. Before you can second-guess yourself, you’re removing the cigarette from between his lips and replacing it with a kiss. 

He's stiff at first, unsure, before you feel a hesitant hand on your face, thumb caressing your cheek. He pulls away first, pressing his forehead to yours, and you can practically see the stars in his eyes. 

“...Wow.” 

You suddenly feel bashful, pulling away from him completely and taking a drag from your cigarette. 

“Sorry, I-” 

“Why are you apologising?” 

You meet his gaze again, his glasses fogged up, but not enough to conceal the way his brow knits with worry, the apprehension in his eyes. 

“I don’t know, I- I should have asked first.” 

He takes your hand in his own, his smile so comforting that you feel all your worries melt away almost instantaneously. 

“You don’t ever have to worry about asking me something like that. The answer will always be yes.” 

He kisses you again, softly, and you can taste the tobacco on his tongue, making your head spin. His other hand comes to rest on your hip, squeezing it reassuringly as he takes your breath away. 

You pull away first this time, readjusting his glasses which have slipped down his nose. 

“Do you want to come back to my place?” 

Edward’s face goes entirely red at your suggestion, and he stumbles over his words as he tries to string together a coherent sentence. 

“I- um, well...” 

You smile patiently, and he returns it somewhat hesitantly. 

“I’ve- I’ve really enjoyed our night together, and I, just, um... I like you so much that, ah, I don’t really think we should rush anything. You’ve had a bit to drink, and I would hate to take advantage of that.” 

Your eyes sting at his rejection as you attempt to muster up a tight-lipped smile, nodding stiffly. Edward’s smile drops. 

“Oh dear, I’ve upset you, haven’t I?” 

When you don’t quite meet his eyes, he sighs and gently holds your hand, giving you the chance to push him away. When you don’t, he pushes a little further, holding your chin between two fingers and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. 

“I’m not lying when I say I like you. I really do, and I would hate to rush something as important as... that... especially when you’re intoxicated. I don’t want you to have any regrets. You're too special.” 

Your heart leaps at his words, and you give Edward a small smile. It was never about him, or his comfort. He’s worried that you’d regret sharing yourself with him. 

“I... yeah. I guess I’m just used to guys only expecting one thing out of a date. I really like you too, Eddie.” 

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, offering you his hand. 

“Let me walk you home?” 

You nod, leaning into his side.  

Edward, of course, knows exactly where you live, but feigns ignorance as you take the lead back to your apartment. He'd know your building anywhere, thanks to his tendency to follow you home after work to ensure your safety, but being in front of it now, with you by his side, feels so fresh and new that it’s almost as if he’s seeing it for the first time. 

It's falling apart, of course. Every building in Gotham that isn’t owned by someone extremely wealthy is. Crude graffiti adorns the crumbling brick walls, and he feels you stiffen up beside him when you notice a couple of shady guys, probably dealing drops, only a few feet away. 

“It’s not exactly... the best area. Will you at least wait for your cab in my apartment? I really don’t want you getting mugged, or worse.” 

Even with his impressive height, you’re worried Edward could be a target. His smart clothes definitely don’t help. 

Edward can hardly believe his luck at finally being able to see the inside of your apartment. Of course, he’s seen it from outside your window when he’s perched on your fire escape late at night, but this is different. This is intimate. Even though he’d turned down your offer for sex, you’re still revealing such a personal aspect of yourself to him. 

You trust him. 

You lead him into the rundown building, apologising for the elevator that has been broken for months. He already knows that, but nods anyway.  

“That’s okay. Five flights of stairs won’t do me any harm.” 

When you finally make it inside, he perches somewhat awkwardly on your couch, his height making the piece of furniture appear ridiculously small. You curl up on the other side of the sofa, giving him his space as he books an Uber home. 

The silence is thick, but comfortable. Edward is so engrossed in his phone that you’re finally given the chance to really study his features. The curve of his strong nose that holds up his glasses, the roundness of his cheeks, the softness of his jaw. The warmth of the numerous lamps scattered around your apartment light up his face with a soft glow that makes him look almost cherubic. 

Edward glances at you, clearly feeling your intense gaze. He doesn’t seem anywhere near as nervous as usual, his smile relaxed. 

“You okay?” 

You prop your head up with your hand and nod, content. 

“You’re so handsome, you know?” 

His cheeks grow pink, his smile a little more shy. His voice is a whisper when he speaks. 

“Thank you.” 

You lapse into another comfortable silence as he returns to his phone, the smile never leaving his face. His phone chimes and he stands reluctantly. 

“Cab’s nearly here...” 

You walk him to the door, and he lingers for a moment. 

“Can I-?” 

You don’t give him time to finish, tugging him down by his collar and pressing your lips to his in another soft kiss. His hands find refuge at your waist, pulling you closer to him. You run your hands up his sides, and he reacts with a delicious shiver to your utter delight. Gathering your nerves, you tease his lower lip with a nibble, and he chases your mouth with a soft groan when you pull away from him.  

You grin at his flustered state, his cheeks red and glasses fogged up, his sandy fringe ruffled beyond repair. You press one more lingering kiss to his lips before unlocking your door. 

“You said your taxi’s nearly here?” 

A chuckle escapes Edward, an octave lower than what you’re used to, and your knees go weak at the sound. He runs his hand through his hair, adjusting his glasses. 

“You are so cruel.” 

You glance down, immediately realising what he’s referencing, and giggle giddily. 

“You’ll just have to wait for next time, I guess.” 

He sighs, a dazed smile on his face. 

“So, you want me to take you out again?” 

You roll your eyes playfully, standing on your tiptoes so that your mouth is on level with his ear. You run a hand down his chest, your voice a sultry purr. 

“I thought that much was obvious.” 

Edward breathes out heavily through his nose and you smile innocently at him before kissing his cheek. The tension is shattered by the loud sound of his ringtone and you both jump back, the spell broken. Edward smiles apologetically at you when he answers the phone before panic spreads across his face. You can faintly hear a very angry man shouting at him on the other side of the line. 

“Yes, yes! Sorry! I’ll be right there! Sorry!” 

The other caller hangs up and you snort, pushing him gently out the door. 

“Don’t let me keep you any longer from the most awkward ride home of your life. Are you gonna tell the driver you left him waiting so long because you were making out with your colleague?” 

Edward stumbles over his words, the flush on his cheeks somehow deepening.  

“I, ah, will not be doing that. Christ, I’m going to have to tip him even more than I was planning to, aren’t I?” 

You giggle and Edward laughs too, giving you one last quick kiss before practically throwing himself down the stairs. 

You close your door, sighing dreamily like the protagonist of a cheesy rom-com. You shoot Edward a quick text and sink onto your sofa, your heart thrumming. You'd gotten him to open up. You're going to go on another date. You kissed him. As far as first dates go, you’d chalk that up to being pretty successful.  

The rest of your evening is spent texting back and forth with Edward, and when you finally roll into bed your brain is clouded with thoughts of him, his smile, the feeling of his lips on yours. You’re so focused on the image of Edward’s silly flustered smile after you kissed him for the first time that your rational thinking completely skips over one minor detail that you’ll have completely forgotten by the time you wake up. 

How did he know what floor you live on? 

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 11.1 (MBJ x OC)

A/N: Ummm so welcome backkk! This is 11.1 because there's a second part to this chapter (I know... my self control keeps getting worse lolol) But I hope you enjoy!

TW: grief

“I’m never fucking drinking again,” Raven moaned to herself as she stumbled out of the comforts of bed. She felt like hell, if hell had a truck run over its head a few dozen times. 

Raven generally considered herself an early riser but nothing could pull her out of bed that morning after what was, objectively, the dumbest night of her life. Part of her wished she had had one or two more drinks so she could have officially transitioned into the ‘blackout drunk’ phase. So that she would, at least, be spared the embarrassing memories. But no, every horrible moment of the night from dancing wildly at the bar to Michael saving her was etched into the crevices of her brain with shocking clarity. 

Now, it was after noon and Raven still found herself wanting to be curled under her blanket asleep so she could escape her embarrassment. 

A knock at the door pulled her out of her wallowing self pity. She did not make an attempt to move, expecting Tiffany to answer. However, when the voice of their landlord rang out and her knocking persisted, she quickly slid on her robe to open the door. She decided Mrs. Winters would have to get over the fact that she looked like death reincarnated. 

“Rough night, dear?” 

Raven grimaced for a moment, she did indeed look as terrible as she felt. 

“Something like that,” Raven offered a tight smile, her body slumping against the door. “W-what can I do for you, Mrs. Winters?” 

“Oh I’m just letting everyone know that we had a pipe burst on the floor above. We’ll have folks in and out and you might hear some noise and stuff. But if you see any leaking into your unit, give me a ring?” 

“Of course. Will do. Thanks, have a good one,” Raven tried her best to politely shoo the woman away. However, she lingered. 

“Oh I meant to tell you, that boyfriend of yours is just such a good egg. So kind and polite. Admittedly I haven’t met many famous people,” she laughed. “But you just don’t expect them to have such good manners, you know?” 

Raven stopped. “My boyfriend?? Sorry… When was he here?” 

“He stopped by this morning. Gave me a check for your rent for the rest of your lease. Oh and asked where your mailbox was, said he wanted to drop something in it.” 

Raven was worried her jaw might come completely unhinged as the woman spoke. 

He did what?? 

“Are you alright, dear??” 

“Y-Yea, yea. Just… a bit of a surprise. Thank you.” 

And with that, Raven immediately closed the door, not listening to the elderly woman’s reply. 

“This nigga… I hate him,” she muttered to herself as she slumped against her door. 

Every cell in her body knew that was not true. But she also knew that everything she had told him last night was still accurate. She was too tired to forgive him and not just him… anyone ever again. The world has used up all of her second chances and she did not have it in her heart to be disappointed by him again. The narrative in her brain was so set in stone, she did not think anything he could say or do would make her believe anything else. She could not even make herself go retrieve the note that was apparently waiting for her in her mailbox. 

“Such a coward,” she grumbled as she flopped back into bed. 

She stared at her phone for several minutes, her text thread with Michael open. She wondered what she could even say? Thank you?

She knew any conversations demanding she pay him back or he rescind the money would be moot. Even if she had the mental fortitude to argue with him right now, she would still lose. But she could not just accept it without trying to push back. 

She typed and erased and typed and erased before lamely landing on: 

Raven: You can’t pay my entire rent. I can’t accept that. 

Raven: I don’t want that.

Michael: Yea you can. Told you… gonna show up every day tryin’ to fix us. You just gotta let me.

Raven: Money isn’t gonna fix this, Michael. 

Michael: I know. But it can fix the tangible things I fucked up for you

Michael: So let me fix that for you. 

Raven paused, as a warm sensation filled her, a warmth she had not felt in over a month now. The warmth of being cared for. She had never had someone take care of her without wanting something in return, except Michael. Even when their relationship was built on transactions, he still took care of her without needing or asking for something from her. The book deal, her rent were just the tangible examples of how he had stepped up to right the wrongs he could and she could not deny that those actions meant something, softened something inside her. 

He was doing exactly what he promised he would do the night before. He was fixing what could be, he was showing with his actions that she meant something to him. And yet, that blockade that stopped that belief from taking root was still there, still prohibiting her from believing these actions were anything more than a skilled manipulation. 

He would draw her back in, he would not change, and when he got ready, he would hurt her again. That’s what everyone in her life did. 

Raven: It doesn’t change anything

Michael: I know… didn’t expect it to.

She tossed her phone to the side and grabbed her pillow, screaming into it as her frustration got the better of her. The complex web of conflicting feelings with Michael B. Jordan trapped at its center only continued to grow. She wanted him to let her go, to stop caring and trying and going out of his way for her because that fit into the narrative nailed to the cross of her brain, it would confirm her beliefs and fears. 

But instead he continued to do the things that made her fall in love with him the first time, things that only reignited the dimmed but still existent flame that was her love for him. And she knew she would never get over him if she kept letting that happen, kept letting him in. 

So she did not even respond. Instead, she just closed the thread and tossed her phone to the side. 

“Let him go, Rae,” she demanded to herself. “You don’t deserve him and he doesn’t love you.” She repeated that a few times before it felt real again, before all that had started to soften was once again as solid as a block of ice. 

***

“You look like shit,” Alex moaned as she watched Michael’s makeup artist, Shanta, struggle to make him look less like a living zombie ahead of his Oprah interview. 

They were tucked away in a suite in Oprah's sprawling LA estate. It was difficult to make Michael feel poor but Oprah was certainly one of the few people in the world who could do so. 

“Thanks, appreciate that.” 

“You know I don’t believe in lying to you. Make sure you get those bags under his eyes,” she instructed. “Alright, this is it. Final stretch. Movie’s out and every review is stellar so far. Do this interview, it’ll air this week, Oscars on Sunday and then you can sleep. Though I bet it’s not the schedule keeping you up? Talked to her since the premiere?” 

Michael forced his body not to sag at the mention of Raven as to not disturb the hard work of the woman trying to make him look alive after days of no sleep.  

“She texted me about the rent thing the next morning. But it’s been radio silence ever since.” 

It had only been a few days since the fiasco after the premiere but Michael’s concern for Raven had not diminished one bit. He  could not let her go as she requested but he tried his hardest to respect her desire for space. His heart was stuck in the quicksand that was Raven and he had no desire to pull himself out. He wanted to be right there. He knew eventually he would have to accept defeat, accept that she had moved on. But he could not do it while she still questioned her own deservedness. She could hate him for the rest of his life, it would be her right. But his soul could not allow her to live thinking so lowly of herself. So if he had to pay 30 years of rent or call in favors to make her life easier and make her see that she deserved care and someone to sacrifice for her, he would do it. It was high time someone in her life put her above themselves. 

“Well, at least she talked to you. That’s something. You’re doing what she asked. Sis has lived a life, she needs time and space. Keep doing what you're doing. Except for the no sleep. For the love of God, by the Oscars, please get a good night’s rest. That’s your night.” 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Alex…” 

She scoffed. “You’ve won the big four, Mike. It’s not just because I believe you deserve it… Statistically, Best Actor is yours. The Oscars is your night. Have a little faith in yourself.” 

“I hear you. I just don’t wann-” 

“Excuse me?” A young man poked his head in the door. “Apologies for interrupting. I’m a PA. Just wanted to let you know that we’re almost ready? I can take you out to the garden when you’re ready.” 

“Be right out. Thank you,” Alex called. 

Shanta did her last quick finishing touches before Alex gave him her customary once over. 

“Shanta, my girl, you’re a miracle worker per usual.” 

They both offered Shanta their thanks, Michael rolling his shoulders before heading out the door to walk out to the gardens. 

He had met and interviewed with Oprah once before so he was not particularly nervous. But despite having done millions of interviews, there was always a kernel of nerves right beforehand that he could just never shake. 

He was dressed in slacks and a light black sweater, thankful for a cooler day as he walked out into her expansive gardens where the Oprah Winfrey waited for him. The cameras were already rolling, capturing footage that may or may not make into the hour-long special. 

“The man of the hour!” she called, her arms stretched wide to wrap Michael in a hug. “Actually I think man of the year is more appropriate. Welcome. I can’t tell you how excited I am to have you here.” 

“Thank you, thank you. It’s so good to be here.”

“Have a seat,” she gestured at the very comfy chair across from hers. “And we can jump right in.” 

***

Raven’s head was propped against her fist as she stared at her computer. A sentence. That was the grand total of her hard work for that Wednesday afternoon. But it was something, she supposed. Weeks of hard work had amounted to maybe two or three pages of her book. She had been offering Angelina vague answers on her progress, ducking and dodging her to avoid admitting that there was no way in hell she could have a draft by March 15 like they talked about. 

“Rae? You busy?” 

She turned in her chair toward the door to find Tiffany’s head poking in. 

“Nope… I’ll never be busy again at this rate,” she grumbled. “What’s up?” 

“I just turned on the interview… if you want to watch?” 

Raven scratched her head, unsure if she could even watch him? See him happy and thriving without her? Despite everything happening between them though, she could not pretend there was not a part of her that still wanted to celebrate this moment in his career. Interviewing with Oprah the week he was poised to win his first Oscar? How could she ever forgive herself if she did not watch this? Even if it hurts? 

“I’ll… be there in a sec. Thanks, Tiff.” 

Raven let out a deep sigh before she grabbed the blanket off her bed and dragged herself to the living room. The interview had already started and he looked gorgeous. Tired, she could tell, in the way he constantly had to readjust his posture, in the bags under his eyes that the makeup artist could not quite fully cover. But even at his worst, he looked captivatingly good. 

Raven found herself studying him so intently that she did not even comprehend the words he and Oprah were sharing. She just watched him and his mannerisms, she focused on the glimmer in his eyes that sparked every so often. She missed looking into his eyes, missed how expressive they were.  

This moment only amplified how much she missed him, missed hearing the deep baritone in his voice and the spark in his eyes when he spoke about his passions. She missed his bright and uninhibited laughter, how his hands were always on her in some way. She just missed him. But she had pushed him away, had told him to let her go. And even if he had not fully let go of her yet, she felt too scared to open that door again, even if her soul ached for her to. Particularly when he continued to try to show up for her in small ways. 

And despite how angry she still wanted to be at him, she had never had anyone show up for her quite like this… try for her like he did. And everyday, her brain took up far more mental space than it should have, debating whether she should follow her foolish heart and forgive him or listen to her logical brain and cast him aside. Days passed and she still did not know the answer. 

“So I’ll admit,” Raven’s ears finally started to pick up the conversation between Oprah and Michael, “I watched Waves more times than appropriate. But Gayle and I saw it at Sundance and we both thought it was just the most heartbreaking and poignant look at loss and grief that we had ever seen. While still being engaging and funny and so relatable. The journey your character goes through is just… I mean I think grief is one of the few universal experiences that we all will have at some point. And you really brought that to life through this character and his struggles with addiction. And the fact that you filmed this while engaged in completely different projects with complex characters like Killmonger in Black Panther and Adonis in Creed 3… I’m curious what you pulled from to give that performance?” 

Michael shifted in his seat as he chuckled, Raven had missed how passionate he got about this project, even though he had been talking about it and doing press for it since they first started dating. She knew he had not truly expected the role to blow up in the ways it did but she could tell he was grateful for it, nonetheless. 

“Well first, thank you. Yea aside from Oscar Grant, Andre was the hardest character I’ve ever played and he stretched me as an actor in ways, you know, I didn’t really expect? And I learned so much from him in his sort of journey through grief. You know, when I read the first script, the line ‘grief is the final stage in love’s evolution,’ really stuck out to me. When you lose someone, grief, this enduring pain you feel, is that love shifting and changing because it has nowhere to go, there’s no outlet for it anymore. And so, Andre really reframed my own thoughts on grief and loss and how I process that and allowed me to pull from personal experiences with loss to pour into that character.” 

“Yea I will say, that line was one of my favorites. I sat with that long after the credits rolled.” 

“Yea same. I remember sitting a-and thinking about that one for a while after reading it. And I loved that even in the more comedic moments of this movie, we still had those lines that made you wanna stop and really sit with what the characters were going through.”  

“Definitely, I was dissecting this movie for weeks after. It’s just amazing. So I do want to shift gears to talk about this moment you're experiencing because of this movie. This really is the biggest moment of your career. You’re nominated for your first Oscar and a favorite to win, so far in 2023, you’ve won a SAG Award, Golden Globe, and BAFTA. And you, as of two days ago, just had your directorial debut in Creed 3. First question, how are you still awake?” Both of them shared a laugh. “But serious question, how has this moment felt? How does it feel to be having this moment at this stage of your career?” 

“Oh wow, when you list it like that, I don’t know how I’m awake either,” he chuckled. “But seriously, you know… it’s been a ride. I know you’ve felt this too but you know, you don’t often take a moment to just pause and soak it in. You finish one interview or award show and your mind automatically just jumps to the next one. And I think what I’ve been trying to force myself to do in the later weeks of this insane time is just to slow down and enjoy it. Not rush through it and really enjoy the fruits of… really years of hard work and sacrifice. But that also means sitting with… you know, the challenges of this time too, which isn’t as rewarding,” he admitted with a sad smile. “But I’m growing and learning alot so it’s worth it.” 

Oprah nodded. “You know I always appreciate when people don’t let the 24 hour news cycle and gossip sort of steal their thunder and moment from them. And I applaud you for sort of moving through the more gossipy side of the last few months with grace and maturity. But you haven’t really talked much publicly about those stories and the effect they have had on you. And you don’t have to get into it if you don’t want but I am curious on how you navigated that and really came out on the other side, from what I can see, stronger for it?”

Michael bowed his head and chuckled. “Um… you know a good friend of mine told me that she thought this was the most vulnerable and most genuine I had ever been publicly on this press tour and I think it’s because I’ve had to navigate some really personal stuff during this great but hectic public moment? And that’s new territory for me.” 

“And I think that friend is right. I don’t think we have seen or learned this much about you ever.” 

“Yea and I wish I could take some credit for it but… it was all one person: Raven Turner. And the way we met, now as the world knows, was extremely unconventional and I can admit that our relationship started as a complete lie. A lie I thought would help me be seen as this serious, mature man my team was worried I wasn’t. And I wasn’t,” he admitted. “I was cold and guarded and not at all the best version of myself. And while I regret how we started and trying to fool the world into thinking I’m something I’m not, there isn’t a bone in my body that regrets falling in love with her.” 

He leaned forward a bit as he spoke. “Because all those walls and barriers we build around ourselves to survive in this world of Hollywood? To endure the criticisms and insanity we deal with? She's the first woman to see me. Not the actor and the money and the fame but just me. And in that, she saved me… without trying or intending to. She just loved me and loving her, choosing her is the single greatest decision I ever made. And I hate how this moment has fallen on her, how my terrible decisions led to these pretty disgusting misogynistic attacks on her. And I think my biggest regret is putting someone as pure as her in the line of fire like that and not doing enough to protect her. And you know, I have to live with that, which is tough.” 

“You know I’ve interviewed thousands of people in my career and while I believe you have to change for yourself and on your own, I also have found that the ones who love us, really love us, are often the most powerful catalysts for change in our lives. I’ve certainly seen and experienced that in my own life and it’s important to spotlight those who were that catalyst.” 

“Oh 100%. Especially when, I think this version of me was always there? I was just too hurt to trust anyone with it, so no one saw it. I buried me under this facade I thought was better? But I fell in love with a woman who taught me that you can’t be guarded, you can’t shut down just because you’re hurt. Life is about getting up every day, being authentically you, and reaching out and loving and risking your heart every time. And sometimes you’ll get swatted away and sometimes you’ll get an embrace. But you just deny yourself love when you don’t show up at all. So I’ve been trying to live by that more lately. Because she showed me what real strength and courage looks like. And I want to have that, I want to lead with that.” 

“Wow… you know people are going to watch this and I think, applaud that vulnerability. It’s refreshing to me because I don’t think our world incentivizes or encourages people to admit when they aren’t being their best selves. So I think for you to do that, at a moment when you’re at the top of your game, is commendable.” 

“She deserves to know the positive effect she’s had on my life. To be celebrated for how she supported me. And you know it’s not just me? When we first started dating, I remember her one stipulation was that we couldn’t go out on Wednesday evenings because she hosted a book club for kids at the library she worked at. And that was the most important thing to her, being there for them. The day of our first date, she spent an hour delivering books and SAT prep books to those same kids she worked just because. There’s just a selflessness to her that is truly admirable. And I think while people are attacking her and calling her these vile names because she made a certain choice during a hard time, they should know who she really is. A woman that would drop everything to help you even when you don’t really deserve it. A woman who I’ve seen give others all she had because they needed it more even when she did not have a backup plan for herself. I could honestly talk about her for the rest of this interview because she deserves celebration far more than I ever could. Genuinely good people don’t always get the shine they deserve, they don’t always get the love and care they deserve because we can often take them for granted. But no one deserves to be celebrated more than her, to be celebrated loudly more than she does.” 

“I love that… she seems like quite the woman.” 

“She is… and I hope she knows that.” 

“So tell me about…” 

The words faded away as his words tumbled through Raven’s head. They clashed jarringly against every belief she had internalized about herself, like metal against metal. But she found herself wanting to believe him. Believe the words a section of the world just heard. She wanted to believe that what he saw in her, even over the course of six months, was who she truly was. Not this broken, damaged scapegoat life had fashioned her into. 

There has to be more than this, right? 

Tiffany nudged her with a box of tissues in her hand. Raven had not even realized she was crying but she accepted them gratefully. 

“Don’t know how I still have tears over this man left,” she whispered as she wiped her eyes. 

“I don’t think those tears are because of him, sis.” 

Raven sniffled and grabbed another tissue. “You m-might be onto something. I can’t watch anymore. Night, Tiffany.” 

However, before she reached her bedroom, she heard Tiffany call her name. 

“I know what he did… sucks. And hurts. But that’s a man who loves you, Rae. More than anything. After that? The only person in the world who still won’t believe it is you.”

She turned around to face her, the back of her hand wiping away a few more stray tears. “You know he said the same thing?” 

“Well, I generally don’t think actors are that smart,” Tiffany admitted with a laugh. “But he’s right about that. You deserve to believe good things about yourself, we all do.”

“Nothing good has ever lasted… I always ruin it somehow. I tried to believe I deserved him and life proved that I didn’t,” she answered, her voice small. “D-Don’t have it in me to try again.” 

“Raven… I know we aren’t best friends or anything. But how many times have I watched you forgiven your dad and sister? Let them back in, try to make things right with them? Try to build the family you want?” 

“Too many…” 

“Right… So why does Michael only get one shot when you found the strength to give them 100? When he’s the one actually showing up for you? He’s the one who actually is trying to earn another chance?”  

“It’s not that simple and you know it.” 

“I know that the only person denying you happiness right now… is you. You push away the good people and things in your life because you feel like you don’t deserve it but no one would be here if you didn’t. Michael, the kids in your book club… me. I don’t keep signing leases with you because you’re a terrible person who ruins everything, no one has a gun to our heads, Rae. We’re here because you do deserve it.” 

“Tiff…” 

“Nope, shut up. This pity party is getting old and tired. It doesn’t matter what I think of you… or what Michael thinks or anyone out there.” She gestured toward the window. “All that matters is the narrative you’ve created and until you decide to believe something else, all you’re going to do is push people away and fuck up and self sabotage because it’s all you think you deserve. You gotta wake up and do some fucking work, girl. Cause until you figure out how to erase this narrative from your brain, you’ll never be happy. And you’ll never fall in love with anyone except for someone who treats you like crap. You’ll never build your own family. You’ll never finish your book or have another fulfilling career. You’ll just be stuck in this broken version of yourself alone… forever. And I’ve seen a few different versions of you over the last two years but this is by far the most pitiful.”

Raven had never heard Tiffany be so blunt. The words were biting but she could not deny that some of them rang true in her ears. And that was always the hardest information to hear. 

“Damn… tell me how you really feel.” 

“The soft gentle love wasn’t resonating clearly so had to go with a different tactic…. Just think about it. And once you fix all this shit and move to a mansion in the hills, don’t forget about me.” She winked at her, causing Raven’s jaw to drop slightly. 

“How do you even know that’s gonna happen?” 

She shrugged and grabbed the remote to press play, Raven not even noticing that she paused it.

“Just got a good feeling about the two of you. Now go so I can lust after him in peace while he's still single. Kidding! Kinda..."

Raven let out a small laugh as she shook her head. "I know you're not kidding. Night, Tiff.” 

She slid into her bed, her only refuge of late, and stared at the ceiling. She was surprised she was not tired of looking at it by now. Michael and Tiffany’s words wrestled with her own thoughts for hours

What was her problem, really? It was not that what Michael did was unforgivable because it wasn’t. Some distant part of her, too quiet to break through the noise of her anger, always wondered if there was more to the story, believed that he had to have had some reason. But she was too angry to allow him to explain. It just became vicious ammunition that no one could ever love her or care about her… that she was the problem. 

Well, that’s true… no one’s ever loved you. And everyone who does leaves. 

She supposed her mother must have loved her, but she would never know. She would never feel it. And her grandmother’s love was so distant, so long ago, that it no longer felt tangible, was no longer a tether to anchor her self worth to something positive.

Instead, the only thing that tethered her sense of self worth to anything was her family’s disdain. Disdain that made her question what Michael could’ve seen in her, how he could ever love someone like her? That disdain which made it far easier to believe that what he did was proof that he did not love her than that he possibly did do it to protect her in some weird way. No other thought could live long enough in her brain to take hold. 

And she did not know if doing what Tiffany suggested would fix that. There was not enough time in the world for her muster the courage to interrogate and confront the source of these feelings. She had hoped she would never have to see her family again. Some days, never felt like too soon.

But she knew she could not avoid it. They were the root cause, the narrative in her head was fueled and sustained by them. And screaming at them across the Thanksgiving table and never speaking to them again was not the closure she needed. She thought she had dropped the weight that was her family when she cut them off. But she was still dragging all the luggage they gave her around and it was time to give it back. 

She knew her family did not want to see her either, knew it would be difficult to get them to even speak to her after everything. But she knew she had to try… because she knew there had to be more to life than this. That she had not been born to only suffer through life instead of live it. So she needed to confront her demons for herself, even if her relationship with them did not change one bit.  

She grabbed her computer and her wallet. It was time to go home.

***

Raven’s eyes remained trained on her dad’s house across the street as she sat in her rental car. She was almost shocked that none of her family’s nosy neighbors had not called the police yet as she sat there for nearly an hour, summoning the courage to actually go inside. 

She had felt so sure this was what she needed when she bought her plane ticket. And that confidence did not waver when she stepped onto the plane or during the long journey from LAX to Charlotte, NC. However, once she was in her rental car, she found herself waffling, aimlessly driving around for hours. Her brain seemed unable to direct her to the place she knew she needed to go. Home. 

She just could not make herself do it… not yet anyway. So she did not. Instead, she finally went to her hotel to try to get some rest and her night’s rest turned into the entire Friday holed up in her hotel. She had not booked a return ticket, prayerful and hopeful that there would be a reason to stick around for a few days. But that also meant she did not have the incentive of time to make her move faster. 

But she could not even make herself do this. Because she did not know how to be brave like this. Her life had been nothing but running from pain and confrontation. This was so contrary to that. She did not know how to do any of this. She tossed and turned all night, unable to get any sleep particularly when there was only one person who she wanted to talk to, wanted to seek courage and strength from. Because when she felt scared, when she did not feel strong, he was the only person she wanted to reach for. But she was not sure he would even answer. She had pushed him away, told him she needed space. 

But she had not felt like she could do this alone. So last night, she called him. 

“Rae! Everything ok?” he asked immediately, his question met with silence. 

Raven did not know what to say and regret filled her like ice water in her veins. But she knew it was too late to hang up, she had to see it through. She paid for that moment of weakness when she hit the call button as her throat closed at the sound of her voice. She found it impossible to speak, even if she knew what words to say.  

“I’ll wait until you’re ready, Rae. Got all night for you.” 

And she knew he was not just talking about waiting for her to speak. 

“Why?” she whispered, the simple word coming out in a strangled sound as she tried to push past the tightness in her throat. 

“Why what?” 

“Why even answer after everything I said to you? W-why do you keep trying?” 

“Because I love you,” he answered simply. “And you’re worth it. I’ll keep reaching out, baby girl. Even when you swat me away.” 

“You might be the only person who thinks that,” she whispered back as a tear fell. 

“I don’t think that’s true. But even if it was, knowing one person is in your corner is all you need sometimes.”

She laughed lightly. “That press tour got you only speaking in motivational boxing terms or something?” 

His deep laughter filled her ears and filled her soul with such joy that she had forgotten. She had forgotten what these moments felt like, the two of them on the phone or curled up together in bed, just talking. She missed it… she missed him. But she could not say it, could not bring herself to pull her body out of the water to make that long trek back up the cliff to where he waited for her. Everything in her brain screamed at her that she couldn’t do it, that she did not have it in her. And she hated herself for it. Hated how she clung to the ice barriers around her heart, even though they were utterly fractured and ready to fall. She just was not ready yet. 

She let out a shuddering breath as she hastily wiped away her falling tears. “I… don’t know why I called. I s-shouldn’t have called.”

“Call me anytime, Rae. I’ll always answer. I’ll always show up for you. I hope you know that… at least.” 

“Y-Yea… I think I do… or at least, it’s getting harder to deny it,” she revealed. “Your interview with Oprah… it was really good,” she offered lamely. 

“You watched??” she could hear the surprise in his voice. 

“Yea… I almost didn’t,” she admitted. “But I caught most of it. Did you mean it? Everything you said?” 

“Every single word.” There was no arguing with the definitive tone in his voice. “I get that you don’t trust me anymore. I lied and kept secrets. But one thing I never lied about is how much I love you.”  

Her eyes clenched shut for a moment. That was one thing he had always been consistent about, her ears had just been perpetually shut to it. 

“I… um… I gotta go. Early day tomorrow,” she lied as she sniffled. “I’m sorry for bothering you. Bye, Michael.” 

She was not sure what she had expected to get from that call and, at first, it felt as if she only got a firm kick in the heart for it. But for the first time since she landed, Raven had enough strength to finally drive to her family’s house. She had rolled her eyes at his boxing motivational quotes but hearing someone say they were in her corner, that had given her courage. To just feel like someone was behind her, even if she was alone, that meant something to her. 

She took a deep breath and got out of her car, forcing her legs to carry her to the front door. 

Her rounds of knocks went unanswered, Raven getting slightly frustrated but determined not to leave the porch. If she turned around and walked away, she’d never come back. 

After an extremely brief internal debate, she decided to simply let herself in, deciding that since she contributed to the mortgage, she had a right to come in as she pleased. And her father still, foolishly, kept a spare key underneath the welcome mat.

Though she had not been to her family’s home in two years or so, it still looked the same. Her father’s favorite work boots were thrown haphazardly at the door, several pairs of her sister’s shoes lined up next to them. She was an utter mess but she was, at least, somewhat neat. And it still felt… cold. And it had nothing to do with the cold winter east coast weather. The house had always felt like that, void of warmth and love that made a home a home. 

“Kiara?” she called out. “Dad?” However, she was met with utter silence. 

Part of her supposed she was thankful they were not home and that they had not just ignored her or something. She stood in the living room, staring around the room at the pictures that lined the walls and shelves. So many of her mom, her dad, and Kiara but there were none of her. That was not a surprise, it had always been that way. But that did not make it sting any less. All they had ever wanted was to erase her from their lives and if a stranger walked into this house, it would be as if she never existed.

She started up the stairs, her eyes refusing to linger long on any of the photos there. They were all lies anyway, a picture perfect family that did not exist because she had been born. She decided to ascend to the attic once she made it upstairs. Because that was where all her grandmother’s and some of her own things now lived. She had never really gone through her grandmother’s things after she passed, no one aside from her dad to pack them up. But she knew there was so much of their lives, so many memories she had forgotten of the one person who loved her, forgotten in those boxes that she now desperately needed to remember. 

She ignored how narrow the opening to the attic was, realizing that it had been easier to maneuver up here when she was a young teenager. Everything was still neatly packed away as if her grandmother would be back one day to pick it up. 

She started to open each box, pulling out and examining her grandmother’s things, so many beautiful things forgotten in this attic no one went into. For the first time in nearly two decades, she felt close to the only maternal figure she had ever had, felt like her grandmother’s hand was on her shoulder as she reminisced on their short but well-lived time together. 

She found the old costume jewelry her grandmother used to let her play with, laughing to herself as she thought back to dressing up in front of her vanity mirror pretending to be a model or whatever silly idea the pair had thought up. She almost cried as she found a very crumpled piece of paper with the last story she gave her grandmother to read before she died, a random short story that she had written for class. She had not realized, as she found a folder, just how many of her stories her grandmother had kept. 

A gold glint caught her attention, Raven reaching into a giant box to find a shoe box. Raven had seen that box 100 times but her grandmother had never let her touch it, claiming that it held priceless family heirlooms that she did not want Raven or Kiara to mess up. Raven rolled her eyes that something her grandmother had valued so much had been discarded and forgotten haphazardly at the bottom of this box. 

Finally giving into her childhood curiosity, she opened it. It was still filled with things, part of her thankful that Kiara had never found it. The jewelry and pieces in it were gorgeous and indeed priceless. She took her time as she examined each one, wondering if they had belonged to her mother or her grandmother or some other relative she never met. However, it was what existed underneath the jewelry that caught her eye: piles of tied up envelopes, one with her name on it and one with Kiara’s. 

The handwriting was not her grandmother’s, which made Raven even more curious. 

She pulled out the stack with her name on it and undid the thin ribbon that tied them together. There were ten letters there in total, each one with a different note scribbled on the envelope. 

To Raven on your 18th birthday 

To Raven on high school graduation 

To Raven after your first love 

To Raven after your first heartbreak

To Raven on college graduation 

To Raven on your wedding day 

She only had to flip through a few of them to realize who they were from. Her mom. 

“You’re killing me,” she muttered to the sky, unsure if she was speaking to God, her grandmother, her mother or all three. 

Her hands trembled slightly as she ripped open the one on top, addressed to her on her 18th birthday. These were some of the only words her mother would get to say to her, she did not care how long ago she should have read it. She would savor each one. 

To my sweet darling girl, 

If you are reading this, it means that I am not physically there with you on your birthday. It means that I’ve missed 18 birthdays and too many milestones to write a letter for and for that, I am sorry. You might be wondering why there is not a letter for all those milestones and birthdays that have taken place but this felt like the best place to start and the appropriate age for reading the musings of a dying woman. If there’s even such a thing.

We learned your gender today. Another sweet girl. If the doctor somehow got it wrong, these letters will be incredibly awkward. But I know they are right. Because you, my darling girl, are the manifestation of my wildest dreams. I dreamed of you almost a year ago, this beautiful girl with half my face but all of my spirit and personality. And every night since then, I prayed, begged God to make that dream a reality… no matter the cost. And he did. 

I know my body is not strong enough to be your mother, to be around to be the mother someone as brilliant as you will deserve. But I hope you know that deciding to have you and keep you, regardless of the risks, is the single greatest decision I ever made. You were not an accident or a misfortune given to me. You are my dreams. And if my last moments on this earth are spent looking at you, it will have been worth it. 

I waited until 18 to start these letters because I worried a child could never understand the choice I made. And you may still not. And if you resent me for leaving you before you could know me, I understand that too. But I hope that through these letters, you will get to know me. And you will feel some semblance of the immense love I have for you. 

I don’t have much advice because you’ve likely heard it all at this point. But the two most important things I can tell you, that I wish someone had told 18 year old me, is to know that failure is part of the journey. Your grandmother used to always tell me to keep reaching out your hand even if it doesn’t work. I didn’t really understand it soon enough but I hope you do. Life is about risks and if you don’t reach out your hand out of fear, you’ll protect yourself from pain but you will also miss out on the gifts God is trying to hand you. As a daughter, I hated to admit it, but mama was right about that… and so many other things. 

And finally, more importantly than anything else I could offer you in these letters, please remember every day that you are so, so loved. 

Know that regardless of what happened to me, I loved you with every fiber of my being until my last breath. Know that you were a gift from God. And every day you venture out into this world, know that you are worthy of so much because you were so loved from the moment you were dreamed up. Do not let anyone or whatever will happen to you in what I pray is a long, rich, happy life diminish that light, diminish your worth. I know how special you are and I don’t even know your name yet. And while I hope that your father and grandmother will affirm you daily, you don’t need other people to tell you that you are special. You have to know it for yourself. That’s the most important advice I can give you. Know who you are and your worth and take up as much space in this world as you want. And as long as you never forget how special you are… how deserving you are, you’ll move through this world shining bright. And the world will be forced to know it too and move to give you what you deserve. It’s not much and a bit cliche perhaps but I’ve been torn down enough to know that sometimes we all need the reminder. But those are stories for another letter. 

By the time I write my next letter, I promise I will have picked out a name for you. I read a book the other day where the main character was named Raven… I had not thought of it before but I like it. 

Happy Birthday. 

Love, 

Mom

The river of tears streaming down Raven’s face splashed against the slanted handwriting on the page, Raven quickly whisking them away so the words would remain legible. Raven did not even know how long she sat there staring at the words on the page, her heart bursting with the knowledge that her mother’s hand had touched this very paper, that she had poured her heart and soul into every word etched into it. 

It was like proof she had been real and not this entity Raven had conjured up in her head. Raven could not stop herself from ripping open all the ones that she should have gotten along the way. The one for her first love and the separate one on heartbreak were four pages each, and Raven did not pay attention to the clock as she absorbed each and every word. 

Everything she had learned about her mother had been through her grandmother and she had always wondered if her grandmother told her things just to make her feel better. But she realized that her grandmother had been telling the truth, she and her mother were so much alike. She found herself nodding and laughing along to her mother’s stories and wisdom embedded in all those pages. She was a prolific storyteller too and an amazing writer, another trait Raven realized she must have inherited from her.

For the first time in 30 years, Raven did not feel weighed down by this unbearable guilt. She felt lighter than she had ever been in her entire life. Perhaps this was what God wanted her to find here, not a confrontation with her family, but these words. This tangible proof that her mother had chosen her, wanted her… loved her and that she had not ruined anything at all. 

Her mother would not have wanted her to carry such guilt around for so long because there was nothing to be guilty about. 

The letters were scattered across the attic floor when she heard the faint sound of their garage opening. She quickly folded up all of her letters and stuffed them back into the box, tucking it under her arm as she climbed out of the attic. She did not make much noise as she closed up the attic, just as she heard her father and sister close the garage door and enter the kitchen. 

Their voices drifted up to her ears as she started to climb down the stairs, deciding that she might as well get the pure unpleasantness of this moment over with. 

“Wait… you hear that? Is someone in the house??” she heard her sister ask, knowing that they both could hear her footsteps against the old floorboards. 

“Don’t get your gun,” she called out as she started down the stairs. “It’s just me.” 

She was greeted with less-than-welcoming expressions from her family, such disdain that it made her want to scurry away. But she did not. She had done enough of that in her life.

“Adding breaking and entering to your criminal activity, now?” 

Raven scoffed as she placed the box on the kitchen counter that stood between her and her family. 

“Don’t think you can break into a house you helped pay for?” she answered coolly. “And I’m not the one with a mug shot here if I remember correctly.” 

“No you’re just the one who sold her cheap ass for a quick buck.” 

Raven shook her head, opening and closing her mouth for a few moments as she tried to find the words. 

“Yea I did… And I’m not proud of it,” Raven admitted. “But I won’t let you or anyone shame me for doing what I needed to do to survive. What helped the two of you survive too.” Raven scratched her head, realizing that trying to get closure from her family was unnecessary. Her mother’s words had given her all the closure she had ever needed. That’s what she had come home for. 

“You know, I got a plane ready to rip you both a new one for 30 years of abuse and torture. To try to force you to admit that I’m not the villain you made me to be. But… I don’t need that anymore. Because the cross of guilt and shame you two forced onto my back for all these years isn’t one I should have to carry. But I did because I thought it was the only way to keep you two around. And even without you two in my life, I still drag that cross around because I thought I deserved it. But I realized today, way too late, that I don’t need a damn thing from either of you to put it down.” 

“So you came here to what? To chastise us and steal?” her father asked, gesturing toward the box on the counter. 

“You can’t steal things that belong to you. These are letters mom wrote to me,” she lifted the open letters out before sliding the unopened pile to her sister. “And to you.” 

“Your mother wrote these?” he asked, his jaw tensing as he looked down at the stack. 

“Yeah, she did. You’ll enjoy yours… she was a really good storyteller,” she glanced at Kiara. “These letters just told me something I should’ve realized long before Thanksgiving. That cross? That guilt? It isn’t mine. And I am done wasting my life trying to rectify the mistake of being born. Because it wasn’t a mistake. She chose me… prayed for a second daughter knowing the cost and she decided it was worth it. And hearing her say that? That’s all I need to know that I deserve so much more than this… so much more than you.” She took a deep breath. “Being a grieving husband isn’t an excuse to be a terrible father and I’ll just be grateful I found some way to survive you and this. And jealousy doesn’t give you the right to be a shitty sister.” 

“What the fuck do I have to be jealous of??” 

“I always wondered that. But reading those letters… I finally got it. Because even as a failed author and prostitute, I’m everything she was. Grandma used to always say I had her personality… her talent. I always thought she was lying to make me feel better. But you knew she wasn’t and you could never stand it. Couldn’t stand that I was more like her than you.” For the first time, her sister was speechless. A good look on her in Raven’s opinion. “Mom wanted so much better for me than this and I’m gonna go and find it. Because I’ve wasted too much energy trying to earn the love of people who don’t deserve it. So if you want to go to your graves hating me, making me the scapegoat for every problem in your miserable lives, have at it. But know that I don’t hate you even after all this. I won’t be weighed down anymore by any feelings toward either of you ever again. You aren’t worth it.”

Raven pulled herself to full height and rolled her shoulder back as she scooped up the box and folder she had taken from her grandmother’s stuff. 

“Now I’m gonna go and have that long… rich and happy life mom wanted for me. And I hope you two do the same.” 

She did not look behind her as she walked away, a soft smile on her face as she walked out of her family’s house for the last time.

She let out a long laugh as she sat in her car, so much of the weight she had been carrying around gone. It did not feel sad like when she cut off her family at Thanksgiving. She finally felt as if she had cut the anchor away and she could float away, she could move forward and heal all the broken pieces of herself that they had gleefully chipped away at. 

When she got back to her hotel room, she just kept rereading her mom’s words. She would memorize each letter at this point. A part of her desperately wanted to open the other ones but she had not reached those milestones just yet so she left them where they were. For some reason, she worried her mother would disapprove of her breaking into them early. 

One line of five letters she read and reread stuck to her bones above all else. And of course, as if her mother had known, it was embedded in the letter for her first love. Love… the thing that had cracked her wide open and brought her to this moment in the first place.

You’d be surprised to know that this was the hardest of the letters to write. Because everyone has some prolific idea of what love is and feels like. And I realized I don’t… because I don’t think I’ve ever experienced the love I pray you are as you read this. That’s not to say I don’t love your father, I do. But I want something different than convenience for you. I hope that the love you feel is safe, allows you to feel the full spectrum of what it means to be human - strong and vulnerable, insecure and confident, boisterous and timid. I hope it feels like stepping out of the cold air and into a warm embrace. I hope it is loud and unapologetic because you deserve nothing less. And I hope it makes you feel so enraptured that everything else in the world goes quiet. And lastly, I hope, more than anything, that it feels like home. That when you’re in this person’s embrace, you feel as if your soul finally landed right where it is supposed to be. 

Her eyes scanned that passage over and over again, realizing that she had found the exact love her mother described. She had come back here thinking she was coming home. But this wasn’t home at all. Home was where he was. And he was back in LA, about to prepare for the biggest night of his life in 24 hours. And regardless of whatever trust needed to be rebuilt and conversations needed to be had, she could not allow herself to miss it. She could not allow herself to not show up for him.

Raven scrambled to find her phone as it was hidden beneath sheets of paper. She scrolled through, praying she had not deleted a long forgotten group thread that housed one number she had once thought she would never need but now was the most important phone number in the world. 

She almost shouted praises to God when she found it, clicking the call button on the unsaved number. She paced up and down beside her bed as every agonizing ring dragged on. 

“Didn’t think I’d see your name pop up on my phone ever again.” 

Raven let out a sigh of relief as her voice filled her ears. “I know… me either. But I need a favor.” 

“Does it involve a certain award show tomorrow night?” 

“Yes. Is it too late?” 

“Yea it is.” she knew Alex could hear the tiny sigh of sadness she let out. “For anyone but me. I’ve earned enough favors around here to create a miracle or two.”

“Really?? Cause I need like more than one or two miracles… a dress, hair, makeup… hell a flight from Charlotte to make it back in time. Without him knowing?”

“Consider all of it done. Hope you don’t mind getting up at the ass crack of dawn though.” Alex asked, Raven hearing the smile in her tone. 

“For him… I’ll get up anytime.” 

“Good. Then I'll take care of everything... I'll have to tell his mom but she'll love this. And probably be happy as hell that she doesn't have to go anymore. I'll text you details in an hour."

"An hour?? That's all you need??"

"You're new here so I'm gonna choose to not be offended by that."  

"Noted." She was about to hang up when she stopped herself. “Hey… Alex? Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Just make sure your ass is on that plane and in LAX tomorrow when Allen picks you up, got it?” 

Raven chuckled. “Yea I got it. See you tomorrow.”

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154

***

A/N: So now will y'all stop yelling at me LOLOL our good sis is going back to her man! We love to see it! How surprised do we think Michael's going to be? Part 11.2 will be the Oscars! Drop a comment and let me know what you thought! And as always, thanks for reading!

[whaddayadothatfor]

Lucky Like A Four Leaf Clover

Pairing: Gojo x fem!afab!reader x Nanami

Summary: When Nanami finds you after Gojo has had his way with you, you wish the ground would swallow you whole. However, Nanami and Gojo give you something else to swallow instead.

Content warnings: Nanami-centric, aloof-Gojo, dub-con, switch!Gojo, switch!Reader, dom!Nanami, sex toys, dirty talk, edging, overstim, MFM, feelings(bleh), too much plot

AN: Y’all the plot in this chapter took me forever. Plus, I graduated university so I’ve been a bit busy. I’ve been watching Bridgerton and Queen Charlotte with the rest of the world so if anything in here reminds you of that, no it doesn’t. Unedited. Enjoy!!

WC: 7.7k+

Previous part

Taglist: @clora95 @timeoveritasconsumofigmentum @mc-reborn @julian0800

Oh God, if you love me, please let the Earth open up and swallow me whole, you thought to yourself desperately. No such luck.

You were still stuck, quite snuggly, underneath your bed. God must put out-of-towners on a waiting list.

Figures.

“Gojo, what on Earth have you done?” Nanami’s voice brought you back down to Earth. He sounded more serious than you had ever heard him. “We had a plan. All you needed to do was have patience.”

His last comment made you pause. A sudden realization made the contents of your stomach curdle. What plan? He couldn’t mean that they had been plotting to get in your pants, right? Before you could ask, Gojo cut you off.

“Nanami, you’d have ignored the plan too if you’d seen what she looked like. Besides, she didn’t seem to mind when she was fucking herself on my fingers,” he said arrogantly. His comments made anger surge through you. Unfortunately, you also have a degradation kink, so you clenched around him. It made him grunt in surprise. “See?”

Nanami ignored him, opting to pull him out of the way and yanking him out of you. Even though his dick had softened slightly, it was still a stretch and it felt uncomfortable enough that you winced. Gojo landed on his butt with a thud.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Are you okay?” His tone was gentler than it had been when he first came in.

“Please leave. This is literally so embarrassing.” And it was. Not just one, but two of your best guy friends have now seen your bare pussy. The same friends that, apparently, had been waiting for the right time to fuck you. The same two guy friends that you’ve tried—and failed— at falling out of love with.

There’s only one option left. You’ll have to change your name and move to another country. Guatemala is nice this time of year, you’ve heard. You’ll have to figure out how to break your new lease, though your new landlord will be pissed—

“I can’t do that yet, sweetheart. I have to make sure you’re okay. Can you come out from under the bed?” He coaxed. He was met with silence. Finally, Gojo chimed in. You had almost forgotten he was there, as being quiet was uncharacteristic for him.

“She’s stuck, Nanami.”

“Stuck?”

“Like how one might get stuck in porn, yes.” He said it so matter-of-factly that you would have laughed had it not been you who was in this predicament. You could tell that this threw Nanami off of his rhythm, as nothing happened for a second. Then you heard a commotion above you.

Nanami lifted the mattress off of the bed frame, and although you couldn’t see him still, you at least had some light to see the space in front of you. Hmm. You had wondered where the charger to your vibrator has gone. Now you know.

You can finally see what your wrist had gotten snagged on. It was some old wire slinky toy that you had gotten as a party favor from a carnival themed college festival during your first semester at university. The wires were hanging out out of the box they had been carelessly thrown into and bent out of shape in a way that you could put your wrist through but would have trouble getting it out the same way it came in. Who knew sentimentality would end up being your downfall?

“Wait just a minute. I’m going to untangle your hair and then we’ll get your wrist untangled okay?” His voice was so soft and gentle that it was hard not to feel comforted. He always had a way of making you feel safe.

You mumbled okay in response and he got to work in gently removing the knot that had worked itself around one of the metal bars of the bed frame. When that was finished, he instructed Gojo to move the bed frame away from you. He walked the short distance over to you and kneeled down to untangle your wrist.

His worried stare bore down into you. It made you feel a bit fluttery, if you were being honest. Your wrist had gotten a bit scratched and bruised from the constant back and forth movement with Gojo. At the sight of your injury, Nanami grimaced. After he finished, he gathered you in his arms and directed more commands at Gojo.

“Gojo, go get the first aid kit and then start a bath. After that, wait in the living room—“

“Nanami, you can’t just—“ Gojo stopped himself abruptly. You looked at Nanami to see why— the man looked furious. Before this, you had only ever seen him mildly irritated, either at Gojo and your antics or from a problem at work. But that was nothing compared to this. He looked like he wanted to kill Gojo.

“You’ve done enough. I’ll deal with you later. Go.” The finality in his voice was enough for Gojo to not put up a fight. Gojo went to do as he was told and Nanami returned all of his attention to you. “What do you need?”

A million thoughts swam around your head at once. What did you need? A snack, for one. A hot shower, for another. A fat nap. But none of those came out. Instead, you asked him—

“What did you mean that this ‘wasn’t in the plan’. What plan?” Nanami froze. Then, he began to walk around your room and bathroom. He was gathering all of your night clothes and prepping the bath for you to take. You watched him as your ire started to grow.

“Uh, hello?” You said. “Did you forget about me? What plan?” Still, Nanami steadfastly ignored you and covered you with your comforter. Gojo came in to drop off the first aid kit, but at the mention of the plan, he hastily made his exit.

Nanami grabbed the first aid kit to clean and bandage your wrist, but when he moved to touch you, you jerked away from him. His hurt expression almost made you forget about the whole thing, but you held your ground. You needed to know if they had been planning on using you the entire time, or if maybe it’s something else. Either way, your friendship was changing.

“Why won’t you answer me, Nanami? I know you heard me. What plan?” You pushed.

“I was going to. I just wanted to take care of you first. Then, I-I’ll explain everything.” Nanami said. His face was flushed and his voice was downcast. He looked so pitiful that you acquiesced. You could wait a few minutes for the truth.

He took great care in bandaging your wrist and taking you down the hall to where your bathroom was so he could help you bathe. When you got there, the bath was full of warm water and soapy suds, courtesy of Gojo. He had even dug out your favorite fluffy bath towel from one of the boxes. You would have never guessed he could follow directions so well.

When Nanami set you down onto the edge of the bath tub, you stared him down, one eyebrow cocked upwards.

“What? You want another free show?” You bit out, annoyed. He grimaced.

“I’ll be outside. Call for me, and I’ll bring you a change of clothes,” he said softly. He walked out and gently closed the door behind him.

With that, you slowly eased yourself into the tub. As the heat penetrated your bones and washed away the sweat and dried cum, it also washed away your anger. You began to feel bad about how you treated Nanami. He’s not the one who got you stuck under the bed, and he’s not the one who fucked you under it either. He’s been really sweet to you the entire time.

Maybe there might be a less shitty explanation to “the plan” than you think. With that thought, you called out for Nanami so he could bring you a change of clothes and maybe then you could apologize for taking your embarrassment and anger out on him. However, you were met with silence.

That’s strange. Nanami usually has impeccable hearing, to the point that it can be unnerving and a little annoying. Wondering what could be holding him, you dried off and wobbled towards the door in your towel, the soreness in your pelvis making itself known after such a rude reintroduction to fucking.

When you opened the bathroom door, you heard voices down the hall. It must’ve been important if neither of them heard you call for Nanami. You exited the bathroom slowly, creeping down the hall to snoop on their conversation. You got there, only to hear a snippet of their conversation.

“Nanami, I don’t think we have anything to worry about. If she hated us, she would’ve called the police—“ Gojo started, but Nanami cut him off.

“Who’s to say she won’t?” Nanami argued.

“You worry too much, Nanami. Forget about your plan. I think she’s already in love with us—“

“I swear to God, if you’ve ruined my chance with the love of my life, I’ll kill you,” Nanami said. You gasped, but it was audible enough for them to hear as the conversation went quiet. You heard Nanami sigh deeply. “You can come out now, sweetheart.”

You came around the corner, face warm and body wrapped in a towel. You find it hard to look them in the eyes.

“Y/N? Can you look at me?” Nanami gently prodded. You tried to meet his eyes, but suddenly the red wine stain in your carpet from three years captivated your attention. Suddenly, Nanami was there kneeling down in front of you and staring into your eyes. His eyes brimmed with unshed tears and the shock of seeing this strong man being brought to tears forced you back.

He didn’t let you get far. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you towards him, your soft stomach meeting his chin as he looked up at you. His eyes were so full of desperation.

You looked over to Gojo, his arms were crossed and his face was pensive. He refused to meet your eyes. A light blush dusted his cheeks. You were starting to feel a little hopeful.

“Just let us explain,” he started. You nodded. You couldn’t help but to stroke Nanami’s hair. You had never really gotten the chance to do it before now, but you figured that they’d already crossed too many lines and personal boundaries tonight for them to admonish you.

“When Gojo and I met you, you were unlike any other woman we had ever met. At first, it felt great to have someone who only ever wanted friendship from us.” Nanami took a breath, and that’s when Gojo began. He moved off of the couch and towards you.

“But little did we know that your sweet innocence would drive us insane. When we would flirt with you, you wouldn’t notice. We had been stuck squarely in the friend zone.” Gojo said, tone jovial as he stood to your side, close enough that your shoulder touched his chest.

“We? You’re.. both in love with me?”

“That’s the plan I mentioned,” Nanami resumed. “We knew that convincing you to love just one of us would be difficult enough, but both? So I thought of a five-year plan— one that would slowly introduce the idea of maybe you being with the both of us, if you were willing—“

“Instead of, I don’t know, just asking me? I mean, what if I had dated someone else—“ you ignored the dark look they shared with one another and continued. “Or what if I had, I don’t know, missed the signs? Everyone here knows that I am pretty oblivious.”

And you were. You wouldn’t know subtle if it slapped you in the face.

“That’s what I said! But Nanami swore up and down that this extremely convoluted and time-consuming plan was the best way to woo you—“

“Which is ridiculous! Who waits five years to confess?”

“Me.” Nanami said. “I… didn’t want to risk losing you.”

“Oh.” You responded. What else could you say? The usually rigid man had blown you away with his confession.

“I am… in love with you. I cannot speak for Gojo, but I have been since you walked into that classroom my junior year. I have been in love with you at every study session, every work event, every Friday night karaoke session. I have loved you when you were near me and when we were apart.”

He kissed your hand, the one that had been resting on his head, and nuzzled his face into it. He looked at you with such yearning that it was a wonder you could’ve missed him feeling this way about you.

“He’s not the only one,” Gojo interrupted. “I have never felt this way about anyone. I can’t put it into words like him, but I’m in love with you. So much so that I’m willing to share if it means that I’ll get to have even a piece of you.” And for Gojo, a rich kid who has never had to share anything, that meant a lot.

You were stunned. So much has happened in one day. It was hard to process any of it.

Nanami, taking your silence as an indication of how you felt, began to course correct.

“Of course, we understand how you feel. We’d never… never want to hurt you. If you ask us to, we’ll leave—“

“Speak for yourself. I’m never leaving.” Gojo interjected. Nanami shot him an annoyed look before continuing.

“If you ask us to leave, I will drag him away from here and we will leave you alone forever.” His voice trembled slightly but you could tell he meant it, even though he wanted you to say anything else.

“But what if I don’t want you to leave? Either of you?” You questioned, though it was really rhetorical.

Their faces were hilarious. Mouths wide open and eyebrows raised nearly to their hairline, you supposed they expected literally any other outcome.

“Wait, seriously?” Gojo asked, his voice full of awe and disbelief. You nodded and grinned at him.

“I mean I’ve kinda loved you the entire time, but I just never said anything because i didn’t want to make you uncomf—“ you responded, but before you could finish, you were cut off as Nanami pulled you downwards so he could kiss you.

The man could kiss. He kissed like he studied it for four years and earned a diploma. His kiss was domineering and exacting. His mouth moved along with yours in sync, refusing to give you even a moment’s rest. You had to push against his chest for a moment of reprieve.

Which is exactly what you didn’t get, as Gojo pulled you away from Nanami’s embrace into his own. He wasted no time melding his lips with yours, kissing and biting your neck when you mumbled your need for air during the rare moments your lips weren’t touching. His touch was just as overwhelming and invigorating.

Nanami, not to be outdone, kisses and sucks anywhere he can touch, including the place where your shoulder meets your neck. It makes your knees weak and your grip on flimsy towel loosen. It’s only when your towel drops completely that both men pause.

The way Gojo’s eyes darken as they trail down the front of your body makes your pussy clench. However, the soreness has not taken a rain check even though your horniness has made a reappearance. You wince at the pain and that’s something neither of your boys can ignore.

Gojo swiftly bends down to pick up your towel and wrap you a like a burrito. Nanami then picks you bridal style and carries you to your room. You’re a bit mystified as to why. Here you were, naked and vulnerable after confessing your feelings and they just take you to bed? Yeah, you’re sore but they don’t know that. It’s not like you said anything.

You grab Nanami’s tie as he lays you down on top of your bed, that has been magically reassembled and remade (likely the job of Nanami, God bless him), to stop him from leaving so soon.

“So you have me naked and willing and you don’t want me? What gives?” You said, a bit miffed. Nanami groans, and you realize that that sound is probably one of the sexiest sounds known to planet Earth.

“You’ve had a long, hard day. If I were to fuck you right now, you’d have an even longer and harder night ahead of you. I need you to be well-rested, because what I plan to do with you will require you to be at full health.” He explains, voice low and husky.

“We, Nanami. Don’t forget about me,” Gojo chimes in, leaning on the doorway to your room. He makes his way over to you, laying down next you and resting his head on his palm.

“Plus, old boy’s scout honor Nanami over here has little self control when it comes to you. The amount of times I’ve heard him jacking off after one little phone call with you—“

“That’s enough, Gojo.” He ordered, but his face was flaming red. It looked as red as yours felt. “We.. also want you to be sure.” At this, you roll your eyes.

“I’m not going to change my mind, Nanami. I want you both.” Your declaration had Nanami grabbing your face and kissing you passionately and slowly. Only stopping once he’d run out of breath.

“Fuck, I’ll be back in two days. Two days to decide if you really want us, or if you’d rather we disappear out of your life forever,” he whispers, his lips so close they brush yours when he speaks. Gojo finishes his sentence for him.

“Think carefully, because if you say yes to us, we’re never letting you go.”

Two days later

You finished moving into your new apartment, though the boys did all the heavy lifting. Nanami forced Gojo to unpack most of your boxes, so you wouldn’t have to.

Gojo even promised to buy you food for the whole week since you couldn’t cook on account of your “sorely bruised wrist”. In all honesty, it’s not that bad. You just bruise easy. However, that’s not gonna stop you from milking this for all it’s worth.

One, he fucked you without asking first, and while you enjoyed it, you figured he deserved to suffer a little. Plus, he comes from a rich family and has a nice cushy job. Who knows when you’ll get the stingy man to be so generous again? He’ll be fine.

You decided a few weeks ago to request your vacation days for the whole week since you had to move apartments and you wanted time to recover. It came in handy as you needed a couple days for your ability to walk normally to return. Now, you’re waiting for Nanami and Gojo to come over after work.

It had been a couple of days after you shared your feelings and you were ready to see your boys again. Not just because your coochie had recovered either.

Nanami, to ensure that you weren’t being forced into something you didn’t want, made sure that he and Gojo left you alone for the full two days, so you could make a decision without their influence.

To be honest, you missed having them around. Nanami and Gojo had been such a consistent part of your life that to not have them around them made you sad. You missed goofing off and complaining about work with them. It just wasn’t the same without Gojo bothering the hell out of you or Nanami lecturing you both.

However, Nanami had, as promised, given you two days to decide what you wanted. He would be over later to hear your response.

In anticipation for tonight, you decide to shower and throw on something comfy with easy access. Just as you finish getting ready, Nanami sent you a text letting you know that they were both on their way.

Well, you might as well stretch before they come over. Don’t want to pull a muscle after all.

Right after you finished, you heard three sharp knocks on your door in quick succession.

Game time.

You walked over to the door and hesitated before opening it. Are you really ready to do this? If you let them in, it couldn’t ever go back to the way it was. Your luck was usually pretty rotten— that train of thought was interrupted by a series of rapid banging against the door. Gojo, most likely. You rolled your eyes, but a sudden, unexpected rush of affection filled you. Maybe change is good, maybe your luck is changing.

With that thought, you open the door without warning. Gojo sort of stumbles forward, not expecting you to open the door so quickly.

“Oh good, you’re home.” He said with a sigh of relief. You realized that he must’ve been worried about you changing your mind, despite the confidence he had two days prior. The thought made you smile.

“Where else would I be?” You respond coyly. A wide grin takes over his face and he leans down to kiss you, one that’s quick but full of passion. The kiss leaves you a bit dazed but nonetheless pleased.

With that, you look over to Nanami. Fresh off of work, he was still dressed in a suit and tie and looking unsure and uncomfortable, which wouldn’t do at all. So, you reached out for his tie and yanked him down to your level before kissing the life out of him.

“I told you I wouldn’t change my mind,” You said softly. “Come inside.”

Reassured now, you could see his calm facade breaking down bit by bit before it snapped. He swept you up into his arms and walked straight towards your bedroom, kissing you any place he could reach. Gojo was hot on his heels, impatient for his turn.

“I was going to wait. I wanted to take you out, somewhere nice first.” He set you down on the bed, standing in-between your legs as he began to take off his tie. “But you’re so goddamn irresistible. I can’t ever say no to you.”

While he was busy getting undressed, Gojo busied himself undressing you. After a flurry of kisses, you were somehow almost completely naked except for your panties, with no memory of how you had gotten to that point. But before you could ask, Nanami forced your attention back on him.

His shirt and suit jacket were both gone, and his belt unbuckled. He left his pants on for now, but you don’t imagine they’ll be on for long as his bulge looked painfully uncomfortable.

He pushed you back till your back was flat with the mattress, but you lifted your head to see what he was going to do with you. Nanami got down on his knees until he was eye level with your pussy. He leaned forward and breathed in deeply before sucking your clit through the cloth. Not expecting the sensation, you tried to close your legs but Nanami caught one thigh while Gojo stopped the other.

“Say yes.” Nanami commanded. Still preoccupied with the thought of Nanami eating you out through your panties, you found it hard to listen to what he was saying. He slapped the outside of your thigh, forcing you to focus.

“Huh?”

“Say yes. Tell me that you belong to me. To us. I need to hear you say it. Say yes and I’ll make sure that you’ll never feel as good with anyone else. I’ll fulfill every desire you have. But first you have to say it.”

His eyes bore down on you. His gaze was so intense it made you lightheaded but you managed to get it out. “Yeah. I… belong to you, to the both of you.”

You winced, as your voice sounded annoyingly whiney to your own ears, but it only served to make Nanami’s face flush. It was embarrassing to say, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it because Nanami took that moment to rip your panties down the middle before licking a long stripe upwards from your hole to your clit. An action that had you yelping and bucking your hips. Nanami slung his forearm over your stomach before continuing as if your squirming had no effect on what he intended to do.

Gojo distracted you, playing with your nipples and sucking on a certain spot just behind your ear that made you shiver.

“It’s a good thing you know exactly who you belong to. Good girl, ” he whispers into your ear. Between the stimulation between your thighs and the words Gojo was whispering in your ear, you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan as you came. It made both men freeze.

Your hips jerked and your hole repeatedly clenched down around nothing as you came down from your high. It made the orgasm less fulfilling as your brain knew that you had two thick, long dicks your coochie could have wrapped around instead.

When you came back down from your high, you saw two shocked faces staring down at you. It hadn’t been long since they had started, after all. Their prolonged attention made your face fill with warmth.

“S-sorry. It felt really good. I couldn’t help it.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. I quite enjoyed the show.” Nanami said, now over his shock. He grinned, and you could see evidence of how much you enjoyed his lip service all over his mouth and chin. Still feeling a bit listless, you had no other choice but to take that comment and visual head on. The warmth in your face spread your ears and neck. If you got anymore embarrassed you might actually die.

“Yeah, baby. Don’t worry about it. The first one’s free.” This time, you groaned for a different reason. You might be a teensy bit in love with the man, but he’s still corny as hell.

Nanami got up while you were bickering to look for something in the overnight bag he had brought with him.

“You’re still a little sore, is that right? He made you cum so many times, huh sweetheart. I bet you’re still really tired,” he said. His back was turned so you couldn’t see what he was rummaging around in his overnight bag for. You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “I’m going to take care of you. In fact, I won’t let Gojo fuck you tonight at all.”

Gojo spluttered and choked on his drink. “Nanami, c’mon. That’s not fair. We’re a team! You wouldn’t even be here right now if it weren’t for me—“ but he stopped mid protest when Nanami shot him a sharp look. He looked over at your wrist, in the healing stages of a bruise and winced. He might be aloof, but he never wanted to hurt you. At least, not in that way.

Nanami paused, tilting his head in thought. “You know what, Gojo? You’re right, that’s not fair,” he said. Gojo’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and his face held a spark of interest. You gasped, surprised at Nanami’s quick turnaround. He did not disappoint for long. “Climb behind her.”

Gojo, curious at what the other man had in mind, did as he was instructed. He manhandled your body so that your ass was sat firmly against his crotch. He wrapped his arms around your middle and dug his face into your neck, like a child who was unwilling to give up their playtime with their favorite toy. Nanami remained nonplussed.

“I think it’s not enough to just sit this one out. I think you need a front row seat.” He finally revealed what he had been rummaging around for— a small pink egg-shaped vibrator and a glass dildo.

“You lack restraint, so this will be the perfect punishment.” He pushed up his glasses as he smirked, looking like a cat who had gotten the cream. His bold statement left you both reeling, though for different reasons.

Now, why am I in it?” You whined as Gojo once again complained.

“Yeah. It was an accident Nanamin,” he said, elongating the last syllable of Nanami’s name. However, Nanami remained uncaring at Gojo’s pleas.

“An accident that could’ve been avoided had you implemented a bit of restraint, hence the punishment. Be grateful that you just have to sit there and watch instead of having Y/N use these toys on you.”

His statement had once again shaken Gojo into silence, although this time his shock was accompanied by a warm blush creeping up his neck. Goodie for him, you thought to yourself. Gojo had always been a bit careless, but because he grew up rich, money typically solved all of his problems. It was nice that he wouldn’t be able to escape the consequences of his actions this time. You took advantage of his embarrassment to plead your own case.

“I understand why you’re punishing Gojo, but why am I involved? I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Other than consistently get yourself into tricky, sometimes downright dangerous situations on account of what seems to be your natural born affinity to trouble?” He rattled off, leaving you hot and incensed. Gojo, recovering from his own embarrassment, snickered at your expense. You elbowed him and he expelled an oof of air.

“No, you haven’t. But the punishment wasn’t intended for you anyways. No, all I need you to do is lean back and take what I give you.” You did as he asked, leaning back into Gojo’s embrace, but not without a grumble or two.

“What happened to not cumming too much? What about restraint?” You huffed. Nanami stared intensely at you over the rim of his glasses while smirking. He sensually rubbed up and down your calf before responding.

“I won’t make you cum over and over, I promise. I just want to make you feel good.” He rearranged himself on the bed, once again becoming eye level with your pussy. He kisses up your right inner thigh, then left before dragging his flat tongue across your slit. Still being a bit oversensitive, you jerked yourself further up Gojo’s lap, the friction causing him to moan. Nanami grimaced, irritated with the new distance between you and him. Gojo, never one to resist teasing anyone, least of all you and Nanami, couldn’t help but comment.

“You know, she had the same problem with me. She’s really sensitive—”

“Gojo.”

“Hmm?”

“Hold her open. Don’t let her run away.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n.”

A while later

“Please, I can’t. It’s too—“ you were cutoff abruptly as Nanami held the whirring toy directly on your clit, forcing a squeal out of you. His demeanor never changed, though his face was flush with desire.

It had been forever since Nanami has pressed that stupid little egg to your clit and you’re starting to regret complaining about cumming too much because Nanami had not let you come once so far.

“Y’know, first you beg not to cum and then you change your mind. What do you want from us?” Gojo questioned, tone bored. You’d think he was genuinely annoyed at you if it hadn’t been for his hard erection digging into the small of your back or the way he gripped your wrists together an effort to keep you still and pliant as he and his partner in crime did whatever they wanted with you.

“I don’t know,” you whined. “Please just, just…” you trailed off as you felt yourself creeping towards the edge of an orgasm. Nanami, who had been steadily torturing you with a vibrator, moved it just off to the side of your clit instead of direct contact.

“It seems like you don’t know what you want, sweetheart. That’s okay, because I know exactly what you need.”

The sight of your orgasm dances out of your reach once again, causing frustrated tears to well up in your eyes. Nanami laughed a little, which irked you. You’d kick him if Gojo wasn’t firmly holding your knees apart with his own. He’s so mean. You decided to tell him as much when you got the chance to breathe again. He only cooed at you, and his deep voice made your clit throb. It pissed you off that he could turn you on even when he was being an asshole.

The jerk.

You should’ve listened to your mother. Birds of a feather always flock together. Him and Gojo really do deserve each other.

Suddenly, Nanami leaned back, resting his but on his heels. His eyes were dark as he considered both you and Gojo together.

“You want to get back at Gojo, sweetheart?”

Both Gojo and you snap your head towards Nanami. You’re definitely more than interested, but you can tell after one brief look at Gojo that he isn’t.

“Maybe you’re not so bad after all,” You said.

“What?” Nanami responded, eyebrow raised.

“Nothing! So uh, what did you have in mind?” You brush off, hoping he’ll let it go.

“We’ll talk about that later.”

Damn.

Gojo giggles at your misfortune but not for long.

“Let’s play a game. Y/N you’ll try to make Gojo cum while I’ll do the same to you,” he said. “If you come first, then Gojo will fuck you tonight, but if he comes first, then he doesn’t get to come at all for the next week.”

“Hey Nanami, you didn’t even ask for my permission—“

“What, like you asked for Y/N’s? It’s time you learn how to be a team player, Gojo.” Nanami lectured and Gojo looks annoyed but determined. You can’t help but grin.

This is gonna be like taking candy from a baby.

——

You were wrong. It was only like taking candy from a baby if the baby had the grip strength of a fucking Orangutan. At first, you thought it’d be easy. You had been teasing him the entire time with your ass rubbing up against his cock. And so all you had to do was make him come. Easy enough.

They had called you a throat goat back in the day, and you had made plenty of men cum quick enough to shatter their pride. But you had forgotten a few things:

1. Nanami was trying to make you cum at the same time. He is very good at what he does, and he is not a merciful man.

2. You are bad at multitasking.

3. Gojo is very, very good at winning. Or, at the very least, not losing.

Thus, when you began blowing Gojo, you started off strong. You wasted no time in licking and kissing him all over, sucking one of his balls and then the other before making your way to his tip. You gave it a nice, sloppy kiss before trying to deep throat him all in one go. You failed, but the gagging did nothing but turn him on more.

He was not immune to your charms. With each kiss, nibble, or suck, he whined or jerked his hips. But when you finally managed to take him all the way to the hilt, that’s when he lost it. He was writhing and whimpering, a few stray tears falling from his eyes. He looked pathetic. Pitiful even. If you were normal, maybe you would’ve cut him some slack. It’s a shame that him looking like that turned you on.

He choked you every time his hips bucked upwards. You had to stop deep throating him because the man was clearly trying to kill you, but it didn’t stop you one bit. You switched gears, vigorously giving him a handjob while reaching for your trusty vibrator. You saw fear in his eyes, and felt victory in your veins.

But then, just as you were about to place the vibrator to his tip, you felt a sudden pressure at your back door and it made you lose focus. You looked over your shoulder to see Nanami pressing one, then two lubed up fingers in your ass.

“Don’t worry, my love. I won’t hurt you. Just focus on what you have to do.” Nanami said sweetly.

It made you shudder and whine. Your handjob became sloppy and you dropped your vibrator to close to the edge of the mattress, leaving it to roll off the side of the bed. Gojo had calmed a little, and now he looked focused.

Shit. You can’t let him win—

Nanami had replaced his fingers with that glass dildo from earlier. The slow but firm insistent push inside has you keening. The lube on the toy made entry smooth. It felt almost impossible to breathe, much less continue giving Gojo a handjob. Still, mama ain’t raise no quitter.

You reached out and started sucking on the tip. It was red and engorged. You made sure to put your tongue to work, paying special attention to his frenulum. He groaned, deep and guttural, before breaking off into gasps and broken breaths. He eyes were squeezed shut, and if you could get any words out to make him look at you, you were sure you could win.

But Nanami was unforgiving and persistent. The slow, firm way he kept fucking you with the dildo was making the waves of an orgasm come closer and closer to your shore. He kept a steady rhythm and it propelled you towards your big O. Luckily, Gojo seemed to be on the precipice of his orgasm as well. It was a race to see who could hold out the longest.

With each breath, both you and Gojo got closer and closer until you came together. Disappointment filled your faces and Nanami couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Cheer up. This just means that we’re back at where we started. Well, plus an orgasm.” He nudged the dildo deep inside you, causing you to jerk away from him. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had planned it out this way. That he could play your ass uninterrupted while you were busy with Gojo.

He tries to turn you over to lay on your back, but the fullness in your ass makes you cry out.

“Oh, I’m sorry sweetheart. I should be more considerate. Here—“ he guides you to lay on your stomach again and rubs your booty to calm you down. “Gojo, why don’t you give our girl something soft to lay on?”

Gojo smiles and pulls you up till your face is resting on his thigh right next to his dick.

“What’s more comfortable than my lap?”

“A pillow,” You quipped. With a roll of his eyes, he grabbed a thin pillow and laid it flat over his lap for your comfort. “Thank you.”

“No problem, princess.”

Nanami booty rub moved closer and closer to your second set of lips, until his thumbs were ghosting over them.

“Are you ready for me sweetheart? I know I’ve made you wait a long time.” He began rubbing your clit, and the sensation made you clench around the dildo still in your ass. You twitched as your breath caught in your throat. “Let me inside.”

“Okay,” you whined. You looked over your shoulder again to watch him.

He pulled down his pants and underwear in one swift move, his hard cock bouncing and hitting his lower stomach. Before you could take in the sight, Nanami slowly started to push it in, his fat head causing an uncomfortable stretch, even with all the prep he’s done up till now. Whereas Gojo had been long and girthy, Nanami is even girthier. You thought Gojo had been hard to take, but now Nanami was bullying his way into you. It was slow and all-encompassing. You couldn’t help but yell out.

“G-Gojo, help me—“ You pulled yourself forwards, but neither of them let you make any real headway. Nanami followed, not letting you escape even a little. Gojo kept a firm grip on your hands, not letting you wriggle away.

“Of course baby, I’ll help you,” he said. He tilted your head towards him. He kissed you. It wasn’t quick or rough. It slow and full of passion. He wouldn’t let you break away, even for a breath. He only stopped when you gasped after Nanami had bottomed out. A cacophony of moans and whines broke out from all three of you. Though only Nanami was inside you, Gojo looked as if he had bottomed out too. It was hedonistic and made you even hornier, if that’s possible.

Your eyebrows were scrunched and your mouth was forced into an O-shape. Nanami was kind enough to give you time to adjust. Gojo kept your eyes on him. Once your vision focused, you noticed his intense gaze. He looked… obsessed.

“I hope you know you’re never leaving us. Nanami might let you think you have a choice, but you don’t. If you wanted someone else, you should’ve never said yes to us fucking you. If you run, we’ll find you. We’ll drag you right back to where you belong. With us.”

He laughed, but in a way that made him seem... a little crazy. You’re starting to think he might be serious. What he said sent shivers down your spine and you couldn’t help but clamp down around Nanami. He let out a choked sound.

You looked in his direction and was shocked by what you saw. The man had never looked so debased. A red flush crept up from his chest all the way to his cheeks. His eyes were dark and his half-lidded expression were enough to seduce a nun. You wanted more. You couldn’t help but clench around him again. He growled out of frustration.

“Please tell me I can move, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m being driven insane.”

You believed him. His normally upright posture was slumped and he was breathing as if he had just ran a marathon.

“Y-you can move. I’m ready.”

Once you gave him permission, he pulled out almost all the way before ramming back into you. The momentum of it jerked your whole body forward and you keened. He kept going with that same punishing force. No matter how many times you whined or your legs shook, he kept going. He was done with the games. He just wanted you.

Gojo watched him fuck you intently. You felt his dick harden under the pillow, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of his memories fucking you or just because Nanami was relentless.

You were already close, and it had only been a few minutes. You couldn’t help it, the man was good at what he did and the dildo he had inserted inside of you didn’t help matters.

“Goddamn, Y/N. Fuck. I’m never, never leaving this pussy. It’s so good,” he muttered to himself. His utterances only pushed you to your own orgasm, making your pussy clench down hard around his dick. He had no choice but to come inside. Ropes and ropes of cum, and he kept fucking it into you.

He didn’t stop fucking into you, even after he had finished. You looked over your shoulder to see him mesmerized at the sight of his cock moving in and out of you. You whimpered and weakly kicked at him. He stared at you and for a moment it seemed like he didn’t want to stop, but then he slowly pulled out of you.

“I’m sorry, I should be nicer when it’s your first time.” He removed the dildo slowly and carefully before laying you down on your back. He leaned down to kiss you gently. “I think it’s time to get you cleaned up.”

Gojo stopped him before he could move. “If cleanup is what she needs, let me help. I’ll be very gentle.” He looked to you for permission and you nodded hesitantly. He’s been known to go overboard.

He picked you up and maneuvered you over his face. He did just as he said and licked and sucked you clean. He took his time so as not to overstimulate you further, though he did let out a few stray moans that sent vibrations straight to your clit. His warm mouth felt oddly nice on your raw bits. Once he was done he softly set you off to the side, just in time for Nanami to bring waters and snacks. After eating something, you were drowsy and ready for bed.

“Don’t you want to take a bath?” Nanami questioned, voice deep and soothing.

“What I want—“ you yawned before you could finish your thought. “What I want is for you two to get in bed with me so we can go to sleep.”

Gojo and Nanami briefly looked at each other before doing as you asked. They could always get up in a few hours and take better care of you then. Nanami threw the soiled comforter to the ground while Gojo placed you under the thin sheet. Both men picked a side, leaving you squarely in the middle, but you didn’t mind.

“Good night, Satoru. Good night Kento.” With that, you drifted off to sleep. You didn’t see how much using their first names affected them.

“I can’t believe she used our first names! She never does that,” Gojo said, his voice full of affection.

“Yeah,” Nanami agreed before kissing your temple.

“So… dibs when we wake up?”

“Gojo, go to sleep.”

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

LOML!!! rommate ethan 🤏🏻🤏🏻 with the prompts 3 and 7 pls pls

‘the heat is turned off because our landlord sucks so i slept in your bed last night and i’m realizing how much i enjoy waking up next to you’ and ‘our friends keep joking we’re a married couple and now you’ve started doing it too and would everyone please stop that because now i can’t stop thinking about what it’d be like to call you mine’

since this is the last 500 celebration blurb went a little over. also you know that picture of the couple cuddling in front of the tv? that’s ethan and reader here.

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader wc: 1.3K

masterlist

december twentieth. the coldest day new york has gotten in its winter season as it’s blanketed in piles of white slush. a tiny two bed one bath in brooklyn, with its three occupants were currently fighting for their lives. not in a horror movie sense, more like, we’re gonna die of hypothermia, sense.

you, ethan, and chad were bundled in layers of long shirts, approximately three pairs of sweatpants each, thick fuzzy socks, a pair of mittens and blankets. the three of you were shivering to the bone, the broken heater doing nothing to fight the chilly air that was able to seep through the cracks. the only way to possibly get a few minutes of heat back into your skin would be standing under running hot water, but it wasn’t worth running up the water bill.

“man this is so fucked up. should not be paying twelve hundred for this shithole.” chad’s teeth clinked together on every other word. shuffling in his spot like a child as he pull this fleece blanket tighter.

you and ethan were cuddled, sorry, huddled close on the couch while sharing blanket number five together. “very convenient how mr. kurch is out of town. and seemingly doesn’t have his phone.” a grumbled complaint with actual puffs of air leaving your chapped lips. ethan pulled you closer with his left arm around your waist and kept it there as you sat thigh to thigh.

“you know what,” chad pushed himself from the pink beanbag on the floor and threw his blankets down, “i’m heading over to sam and tara’s. for sure they got heat, my dick is shriveling into my body.”

“ew.” “gross, chad.” you and ethan groaned at his crude language.

“oh grow up mr and mrs landry. pretty sure ethan is feeling the same, but keeping it to himself since you're here.” and then chad left the two of you as he went down the hall to his room.

eyes turning to ethan as he kept his eyes forward and mouth tight. his cheeks rosy and you knew it was mostly due to the weather, but you had to ask out of curiosity. “you feel the same? …dick shriveling-“ “please don’t say that…. but yes.” ethan shuddered.

“…my nipples are rock hard.” “oh my god.” both your chest bursting with intoxicating giggles at the odd choice of topic. eyes closed with cheeks pushing up, neither of you spotted chad until he spoke up.

“i’ll leave you two lovebirds to the nest. little house play while i’m gone.” and before you could object to chad’s claims he turned on his heel and pointed a strong finger at ethan, “no sex in my bed. i swear if i find out, hell will rain upon this home.” and he ended his one sided conversation with the door shutting close behind him, duffle bag in tow.

the apartment instantly felt one hundred degrees with chad’s words settling in the air. but ethan didn’t seem bothered, in fact he grabbed you tight around the waist and pulled you into his lap. you sat sideways with your right side leaning into his chest and your head sat on his shoulder while he leaned his into your temple.

“been waiting to hold you closer, but knew chad was gonna be annoying. now we’re sharing body heat.” “i don’t think we have much body heat left.” but you snuggled in closer.

ethan’s covered hands rubbed up and down on your arm and thigh, it caused you to shiver even more. “wanna watch a movie in my bed?” ethan’s words kissed over your skin with his low voice.

“what movie?” not caring about the movie, but wanting a bit more convincing. you really wanted to lay in ethan’s bed though.

he sighed, “whatever you want. just want to hang with you.” and how that statement turned your insides to jelly. “wanna watch the spongebob movie?” leaning your body away to peer at ethan’s face. his muddy brown irises were bouncing around, staying a few seconds longer on your lips, before he stared directly into your soul and grinned.

“are you gonna quote the movie?” an involuntary eye roll, “duh.” his smile widened and his palm gave your thigh to quick smacks, “spongebob it is.” then he leaned in to peck your jawline.

‘what the fuck’ your mind screamed in delight.

so you and ethan grabbed your blankets and shuffled to his shared room with chad. they were nice to let you have a separate room since you have to share the bathroom. ethan’s side was decorated with movie and musician posters, some collectibles and books. chad’s with football stuff and some musician posters, a computer set up for streams he does.

ethan crawled in first so he could lay against the wall then you crawled in with a small gap between your bodies, but ethan once again wrapped your waist and pulled your back to his chest. even with the layers of clothing it felt like you were skin to skin, your heart was gonna beat out your chest if he kept doing this.

“your really comfortable,” ethan laid his chin over your shoulder so he could watch the movie. his arm staying curled tight around you. “it’s the multiple shirts and jackets.” skirting around the compliment, getting overwhelmed by how overly affectionate ethan is being.

the night dwindled on, the movie reached the half hour mark, your eyes were drooping with fatigue and ethan was snoring loudly in your ear. with one blink came a second that was heavier, then a third, which ended with a fourth blink that shut your eyes tight for the night as the loud soundtrack and voice of the child’s movie became your background noise.

the next morning was still freezing. eyelashes stuck together with a nose feeling running and lips horribly cracked, the shining sun snuck between cracks in ethan’s curtains. face scrunching from the brightness you groaned in your throat before twisting in the piles of sheets and blankets so you were facing ethan’s sleepy pout.

his usual rosy plush lips turned to a light blue over night as their parted and puffs of icy air enter the space. the tip of his button nose was rudolph red and the apples of his cheeks splashed with pink over his freckles. his curls were messy and tossed every which way and you couldn’t help as your mitten covered hand played and pushed them around.

ethan took a deep inhale through his nose before pulling you close with his arms that held you like you would disappear in the night. you wouldn’t though, not if you had a say. the whole night just felt… normal. yeah, the two of you would have movie nights and be a bit touchy with each other, but the moment chad left and ethan pulled you into his lap it just felt like he was being more than friendly.

“ethan.” whispering his name. he didn’t move or make a sound, so you dropped your palm to his cheek and ran your thumb under his eye as you called his name a few more times and a little louder.

a big inhale and scrunch of his face he mumbled with a thickness to his words, “why are you waking me up early, when we get to play house? we can sleep in.”

and you were more than happy to play house. sleep in the same bed, wake up together, cook together. just being together. “do you want to continue playing house even when chad comes back?” a hushed question with a loaded meaning and answer.

ethan groaned again as he pushed his icicle face to your neck and pressed a feather light kiss to when your jawline meets the bottom of your ear. you thought you imagined the action before he spoke to your spiked pulse point, “i’ve wanted to play house two weeks after i met you.”

there was a lovesick smile taking over your face. how you can’t wait to play house in the future, but right now, “ethan, i think we should go to sam’s. my body actually hurts.”

“wanna just take a shower. together. won’t mind running up the water bill if we’re sharing.” and you could feel the smirk from his lips.

you took a few seconds before- “get up, husband. gotta make the wife happy.”

-

[elocinnicole]

Hi, how are you! If you stil take requests, can I ask for a request for Daveed x fem!reader, Daveed making reader work for her nth release by making her idk…ride him up and down, and reader is just drooling, sobbing because she’s been fucked stupid and just wants to cum again even after she’s been creampied over and over again before Daveed flips them and makes her cum, 3 more times than she’s expecting to cum. 🫶🫶🫶 that scenario’s been on my mind a handful of times idk why😭😭😭😭

“Wait, wait—mmfuck Daveed!” You cried out, you placed your hand on Daveed’s stomach to get him to ease up on the brutal pace he set. You’ve forgotten how many times you orgasmed tonight; you lost count after the third one.

“Naw, you was acting like a brat all day. Now you gotta take your punishment.”

To be fair, you were trying to get under Daveed’s skin all day while he was working. You had been feeling neglected and wanted attention. So, you took it upon yourself to put on some lingerie, take some pictures and send it to Daveed. Not only that, but you also even took videos of yourself masturbating and sent Daveed those as well. That was probably where you messed up, you should’ve known what you were in for when he texted you back with a simple “Oh okay”. Now here you are, ankles pushed back to your ears and Daveed fucking into you at an unrelenting pace.

“You can take it, can’t you?” You nodded Daveed lightly slapped your face

“Words, you can take it right?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You moaned

“Gonna be a good girl for Daddy.”

“I’ll be good. I’ll be a good girl.” Daveed used his thumbs to rub fast circles on your clit causing you to scream.

“I can’t, I can’t—it’s too much—Ahaaa!” Daveed pinched your clit making you see the stars and pushing you over the edge again.

“You should’ve thought about that earlier. You played yourself.” Daveed kept going fucking you through your orgasm and his. You were going to have to get a Plan B tomorrow the way he was shooting the club up. The sound of his dick sliding in and out along with his cum is enough to make you cum again. Daveed pulls out and smirked at the relief on your face.

“We ain’t done yet,” he flipped you over so that you were on all fours.

Without warning Daveed pushes in and sets a quick pace. You moan into the pillow.

“Yeah, take that shit.”

“Please, please, please,” You don’t even know what you were asking Daveed was fucking all the logic out of your brain. You put your hand behind you only to have Daveed pin it to your back, his other hand slapping your ass.

“You know what you gotta say,” Daveed grunted

“M’sorry.” You said into the pillow, he slapped your ass again

“I can’t hear you, baby.” You picked your head up

“I’m sorry Daddy,”

“You gonna do that shit again?”

“No, no, I promise.” You babbled; Daveed smirked at the image in front of him. You drooling on the pillow, bouncing back on his dick. He could feel you tighten around him a tell-tale sign that you were going to orgasm.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” You screamed, it was times like this when you were grateful that you and Daveed finally moved out of the apartment, the amount of noise complaints was starting to get ridiculous not that Daveed cared, he practically loved it when he would get that email from the Landlord.

You felt Daveed pull out of you, you relax thinking you were done. Daveed grabbed your waist and rolled the two of you over so you were straddling him.

“Ride this dick,” You could barely move your legs as you lined up with Daveed. You started with a slow pace maintaining eye contact the entire time. You felt his hand slap onto your ass, kneading it.

“You close baby?”

“Mhmm!” You were bouncing up and down on Daveed’s dick, using his shoulders as leverage. You could feel the coil in your stomach begin to snap. Daveed decided to play with your clit that’s all you needed before you let everything out. Daveed groaned shooting thick ropes of cum inside you. You squealed at the sensation. Daveed looked down at the mess the two of you made before your head fell onto his chest.

You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until you woke up with a blanket on your body and Daveed was nowhere to be found. You were wearing one of his t-shirts you were about to go looking for your boyfriend when the bedroom opened to reveal Daveed and two bags of food. He sent a smile your way before walking over to kiss you.

“I got us some food.”

“How long was I sleep?”

“An hour or so. You fell asleep not long after. We took a bath and then I went to go get food.” Daveed handed you your food and joined you on the bed to watch your favorite shows.

“You okay? I wasn’t too rough was I?” Daveed asked genuinely concerned, you leaned up and kisses his cheek

“You were great, I’m a little sore.” There was a brief but comfortable moment of silence between the two of you before Daveed spoke up.

“We should probably get a Plan B in the morning.”

Tagging: @nikole-witha-k @blackpinup22 @iknowthekoolaidflavor @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @ramp-it-up @daveeds-wife @chattykathysquietsister @mellie-teh-goblin-queen @azxulaa @endless-romantic-stories @chrisevanswife0405 @gothic-slasherfan-weeb @pinkbonnetandglasses @cocobutterbaby @moxleys-fav @aonungmyaddiction

[birdsnout]

My Family and I Are Facing Eviction:

(I posted about this on Insta, and I've decided to crosspost here. Read below the cut for info on the situation)

TLDR: we are being evicted after just a 1 year and 7 months in our new apartment and exhausted our resources during our last move. So, support of any kind is endlessly appreciated. I'm keeping my commissions open (link in bio along with my Ko-Fi), but the wait time is N/A. My close friend and I will be hosting a Rise themed Kickstarter as another option for those who want to support and get something in return for their kindness.

You may comment or DM questions 💜

(BTW, our landlord owned our old unit too and rumor has it, he’s evicted many other low income tenants like us in the same time span...)

As a low income household, it hits hard. Government aid has kept us afloat as my mom and I attended college full time. It was especially important when our lifestyle had to adapt to my little sister's Mitochondrial disorder diagnosis (it's serious, lifelong and deserves a Google search), and my mother's autoimmune diseases.

We need the aid until my mom settles into a job post graduation and we sort out whether I can be registered as a home aid for my sister. (I went on break from college to help my mom after an invasive shoulder surgery she had in Feb. Financial, college and family health issues are why I’ve extended it.)

Unfortunately, setting up a Crowdfund isn't easy for us. I've researched and it can’t be tied to a bank account in our household. Thankfully, my friend @Mimunaii has offered to help, but because I’d feel wrong not giving back somehow, the Crowdfund will be a Kickstarter. (Regular donations also don’t seem against aid rules).

Reaching out like this on social media is a last resort as I've struggled to find any other options to help with this very serious and stressful situation. Just sharing this post is enough, and no donation is too small for us to be grateful for as we try to save and keep up with bills/costs our aid doesn’t cover. The Kickstarter will be another way to help, but give you something in return for your kindness 💜 (Pet supply wish lists are also linked in my Beacons)

To those who are interested in commissioning me, please be aware that my comm wait times are funky. I thought my break would be calmer compared to 2022 (besides that year's abrupt move, there was also a vet emergency and health scares), but so much has happened in my personal life.

It’s honestly been a struggle mentally and has effected my productivity. However, I am still putting 110% into what I draw for all of my generous clients, and will always do so.

Thank you so much for reading 💜

[kentoberry]

WRECK MY IMAGE — KAMISATO AYATO.

⭒— SUMMARY · your new landlord changed the date that your rent was due, and you can't pay ! it's time to consider other methods of payment. . . [ full tags utc. ]

⭒— CONTENT · landlord ayato / modern au, slight subspace, degradation, begging, bondage, toy use, teasing, fingering, clit slapping, cream pie.

three sophisticated raps on your door told you exactly who was on the other side: it was the conceited landlord that had recently bought your building, undoubtedly a rich asshole who’d spent his life having everything handed to him by mommy and daddy.

instead of waiting for your answer, he invited himself in, simply pushing past you to enter your quaint studio apartment. you couldn’t help but notice just how out of place he looked, bespoke designer clothing giving him a rather elevated and sleek look, whereas your apartment was a little bit more untidy and cluttered with an ever-growing collection of your belongings.

“i like what you’ve done with the place,” sarcasm dripped from his elegant voice, making you roll your eyes at his condescending tone - something gave you the idea that he’d never be satisfied with your own interior design choices. you pictured what you thought his apartment looked like, the penthouse nearest the top of the building. a white, sleek interior, as clean as a staged home and with zero evidence of his own personality, but rather shelves filled with sophisticated world literature that he had no plans to ever read himself and some bespoke, untouched, and what would likely be forever unused marble countertops in the kitchen.

“to what do i owe this honor, mister kamisato?” you asked, sarcasm lacing your voice as you couldn’t help but be already irked by his sheer presence.

“no warm welcome? tsk, you could at least offer me a drink, sweetheart.” he sighed at your subsequent silence, not bothering to continue his antics if you were not going to jab back at him. you’d asked him a question and wanted as little interaction with the man as possible, thus you remain stoic and awaiting his response.

“your rent is late.”

eyes grew wide, as though he’d made the most incredulous of claims. “it’s not due until next week. i don’t have the time for you to mess with me,”

“playing so hard to get,” he looked you up and down, piercing gaze feeling invasive as he clicked his tongue. “you should lighten up a little. check your mail next time, you were notified that the date would be changing whilst under the new and, dare i say, impeccable management of yours truly.”

you scoffed, heading over to the pile of unopened letters littering the counter. upon sifting through the envelopes, you found not one, not two, but three letters from the yashiro corporation, i.e. the people who owned the building. . . aka the blue-haired, slender figure stood before you.

with an exasperated huff, you collapsed back onto the couch. opening one of the letters, you found out that the date you should have paid was indeed last week, but also that your rent had increased a little. combined with prior stresses and your unexpected visitor, this was enough to tip you over the edge.

“why the fuck are you charging me almost double what this place is worth? i’m not paying this, ayato, fuck off. you can’t just expect me to pull dollar bills out of my ass!”

it was true, you were working yourself to the bone to make a living. you had taken on two jobs since moving to the city, accepted overtime wherever possible, as well as doing the odd things here and there just to make an extra dime. and at this rate, you’d be adding finding a new place to live to your already overfilled plate.

ayato was simply admiring the trinkets you had displayed on your shelves, his back to you whilst you raged at him. he let you finish your outburst, seemingly amused by your spunk.

“this area’s developing - new developments, new jobs, a new demand for the place. it’s just how the world works, sweetheart. if you don’t like it, i’m sure your lease is up soon enough. unless you’d like to pay the early termination fees, that is.”

his suave facade got under your skin. you wanted to call him a good for nothing leech who only thrived because of blood money, sucking dry the pockets of everyone who had actually worked for their living. tell him everything that he got was handed to him on a silver platter, whereas you had to try for what you wanted and that you earnt what you got. to demolish his ivory tower and enlighten him that no, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows down here.

although, would arguing with your landlord really help you out here? you wanted to use him as a punching bag, to spit out your anger on this prick who milked your bank account dry once a month. realistically, it would be impossible to find an apartment close to your workplaces, especially at the rates nowadays. in all honesty, the previous landlord had given you a pretty sweet deal with the place when you first moved in, so the current price gauges were roughly on par with the other apartments in the surrounding neighborhood.

“look,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. ayato turned to face you, his in depth inspections of your displays seemingly halted. “could you give me a week? i can ask my boss for my paycheck a week early, that should be enough to cover half at least. i’m sure someone will be willing to lend me the rest, just to tie me over this once-”

“or,” ayato cut you off, staring you down as though evaluating his food. “we can come up with another arrangement.”

curiosity got the better of you, listening intently to each word that passed the man’s lips. he was the one that had provided the initial amendments to your arrangement, and the fact that he was so willing to compromise rendered you dumbfounded, especially when he could kick you out oh so easily and find a better tenant who would willingly fall victim to his extortionate prices.

“i’ve seen how you look at me, sweetheart. all that anger is simply a ruse to hide your true feelings, hmm? there’s something about you that i can’t quite put my finger on. . .” ayato paused, taking few paces until he was standing in front of you. his index finger lifting your chin to force your gaze to meet his sharper one sent a chill down your spine.

“. . . you’re rather alluring, aren’t you? surely if you’re okay with it, i’m sure we can come up with another method of payment, princess.”

surely he wasn’t implying what you thought he was. . . no way would you sleep with your landlord just to waive rent for the month! it was utterly demeaning to whore yourself out in such way.

ayato’s eyes remained trained on you, indigo irises boring into you with such an intent focus that you worried that he was tuned in to hear your every thought. he leaned a little closer to you, enough that you could feel his faint breath ghost over the shell of your ear.

“you’re considering it, aren’t you, darling? why don’t we take this to your room, hmm?”

the man was attractive, that much was undeniable. you debated if you’d accept his proposition without the promise of free rent, to which you settled on a yes. hell, he was offering a quick fuck and you wouldn’t have to pay one bill this month? you’d be an idiot to deny it.

“down the hall, second door-” you began.

“to the left. you forget, i own this building, sweetheart.” he smirked, before adding under his breath, barely audible: “and everything in it, so it seems.”

tongues and teeth clashed against one another; you could feel his smug expression, mocking you for your neediness. ayato’s large hands reached around to fondle the fat of your ass, pressing you closer to him.

the move to your room was filled with a volatile concoction of haste and lust, as though a switch had been flipped and the only thing that each of you could think of was devouring the other.

ayato guided you to your mattress, barely giving you room to breathe. you began to fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt, impetuously working to remove the unnecessary clothing. that shit-eating grin remained ghosting his defined features, amused by how desperate he’d made you.

“no need to hurry, princess.” he started.

“‘s just get it over with,” you slurred slightly, only for ayato to take a step back. you propped yourself up on your elbows, lips already a little bit swollen and an incredulous look on your face.

“stop it with all that.” his tone grew more commanding, expecting you to listen to his orders without questioning them. “i’m the one doing you a favor. perhaps you need reminding of that, hmm?”

he moved closer towards you, anticipating you to pull him back in, though impressed when you remained still. a cool, nimble finger traced down the side of your face, as though inspecting your beauty. “what a pretty thing you are. . . i can’t help but think about how much sweeter you’ll look begging for my cock.”

your mouth fell agape, surprised at such lewd words rendering you speechless - something that, compared to your prior, tough-talking demeanor, shocked ayato. he took the opportunity to unbuckle his belt before collecting your wrists and positioning you to lie against your pillows.

“i’ll be nice, unless you give me a reason not to be. do you plan on being a good girl for me, darling? after all, i’m not sure if i can clear the debts of a nasty brat.”

you mumbled in agreement, squeaky promises that you wouldn’t be bad. something about having your landlord towering above you cast a spell over you, his soft blue locks framing his face and fabricating the image of a perverse angel. you let him take control, fully submitting yourself to the man as he carefully slipped your shirt over your head. ayato proceeded to utilize his belt to craft makeshift restraints, fastening your hands to the headboard.

“perfect,” he muttered, eyes focused on your chest. he placed an uncharacteristically sloppy kiss to your sweet lips before heading south, groping your tits over the lace of your bra as he sucked a pretty mark onto the juncture between your neck and shoulder; subtle enough that you could hide it, though satisfactory enough to brand your body as another property that he owned.

though you tried to reach out, wishing to bury your hands in those untidy blue locks, yet were halted by your binds. the only noises leaving your mouth were tiny pleas for more, combined with frequent whines as you pulled your wrists forwards. ayato could only tut, leaning in to your ear to whisper that “only good girls get to cum.”

you failed to hold back whimpers as ayato removed your bra, taking one nipple into his mouth as slender fingers glided over the other. embarrassment crept over you, both from feeling so very exposed and helpless, and from feeling like a common slut whose sleeping with somebody for her own benefit.

ayato’s tongue swirled over the hardening bud, nibbling at the sensitive skin every now and again just to admire the way that your back arched ever so slightly in response. his cock stiffened with each sweet sound that slipped past your lips, suddenly becoming aware that he would struggle to do anything but bury himself inside your wet cunt soon enough.

all you managed were strangled, wanton moans as ayato pulled away from your chest, once again tugging at your restraints subconsciously.

“patience, princess,” he muttered, which was fairly hypocritical given his intentions. he peeled himself off of your helpless form, leaning over to your bedside drawer. you could hear him mumble something about condoms, using the last part of your sanity to yelp a “stop!” as he opened the drawer.

your face flushed deep red with embarrassment, praying to any gods above that your landlord, your fucking landlord, had missed the hot pink vibrator that your kept stored in that drawer. you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for the worst, however the snicker that your heard told you that he’d located the object. the faint buzzing only confirmed your fears.

“well, well, well. it seems that my princess is nothing more than a dirty whore, hmm?”

ayato situated himself between your legs, peeling away any remaining clothing until you were in nothing but your panties. “open your eyes,” he commanded. one little kiss to your inner thigh was all it took to coax you out of the sheepish state that had overcome you.

he fired up your toy once again, the head of the silicone ghosting over your slit. ayato used it as an experiment, teasing and toying to best discover how to elicit the most salacious noises from you. he wanted you to beg for him, to beg for his cock, to reach such a point of neediness that you relinquished every last shred of control to him.

“please,” you begged between pants, trying your absolute best to keep your head above water. “more, need more,”

trademark smugness painted his cheeks, egos continuing to grow at the sight of you in such a vulnerable position. ayato would have been more than happy to spend the remainder of the afternoon teasing you, watching that already-visible wet patch on your panties grow even larger, but the bulge constricted in his pants was becoming impossible to ignore.

“what do you need? use your words, princess,”

you didn’t want to give in, you really didn’t. internally you were degrading yourself for being such a cheap slut, for letting yourself be used in exchange for a bill to be waived. yet ayato had a grip over you, turning you into putty in his hands.

“cock. . .” you began, mind already hazy, “need you to fuck me, please, please, please,” you even made your best puppy dog eyes to the man, batting doe-like eyelashes to better plead your case.

you whined as ayato turned off the vibrator, pulling away to remove his own clothes. you knew the man was attractive, but without clothes, you saw a grecian muse, unable to resist your jaw slackening ever so slightly. the bed shifted as you tugged on your restraints once again, desperate for some sort of friction.

“so needy, aren’t you? what a sweet thing. . .”

ayato crept forward, dipping the mattress. he placed a kiss to your lower stomach, gaze hungry as he looked up to you, so vulnerable, so very delectable. at a painfully slow pace, he peeled away your panties, watching your reactions to the cool air hitting your exposed cunt.

the man pushed your thighs further apart, ego inflating as you squirmed weakly for him. he dragged two fingers through your folds, smirking at the string of slick connecting his digits to you. “all of this just for me, hmm?”

you’d given up on articulating any adequate verbal responses, simply reduced to moans as ayato’s thumb caught your puffy clit. he had you exactly where he wanted you: desperate, needy, begging for his touch. he wanted to further the teasing, though something in him told him that in the future there would be apt opportunity to turn you into his pliant little whore.

instead, ayato settled for positioning you in just the way he desired, lining his cock up with your weeping hole. he was long, prompting babbles from you that expressed concerns that it wouldn’t fit.

“shh, princess,” ayato cooed, reaching out to cup your cheek. the gesture was tender, as though he’d dropped this hardass facade that he typically displayed, only for it to reappear a moment later in the form of a harsh “i’ll make it fit.”

whilst you were left to internally debate whether or not that was a promise or a threat, ayato plunged two fingers inside of you, digits gliding with ease and filling the room with lewd wet noises. he had to hold back his own groans, mind wandering to how fucking sweet your walls were going to feel gripping his cock if they already felt so damn divine clamping down on his fingers. after a few additional flicks of his wrist, ayato once again left you to whine over being denied release.

however, you couldn’t exactly complain. the speed at which ayato’s fingers were replaced with his cock was surprising. he eased his already leaking tip into you, hand resting on your stomach for leverage as the other held your thigh, keeping you spread out for him.

your slippery cunt sucked him in, hips bucking ever so slightly to meet ayato’s own as he pushed deeper inside of you. you could feel the knot in your stomach already forming and growing painfully tight after such a short period, mentally preparing yourself for ayato to leave you on the edge once again.

the room became flooded with a melody of whines and pants, an orchestra of skin slapping against each other. ayato’s cock filled you up and stretched you out, his thrusts precise and possessing what appeared to your borderline delirious state as an inhumane speed.

if his belt wrapping your wrists was any looser, you were convinced that the binds would have been broken. you wanted to pull yourself closer to ayato, to chase your own high rather than be subjected to whatever he chose to lay upon you. to think that the blue-haired man didn’t notice this wouldn’t be short of idiocy, for you could hear the clicks of his tongue as his movements slowed.

“princess,” his tone threatening, “i thought that you promised to be good, hmm? does someone need to be taught a lesson?”

you whined, words feeling foreign yet the way your cunt clamped down on him at such a lewd threat (or rather, promise) seemed to provide the answer that he wanted.

ayato drew his hand back to land a harsh slap to your clit, chuckling to himself as you clenched your eyes tight shut at the stinging sensation. amused enough to repeat the action, he smacked your sloppy pussy a few times before your pretty little lips began spilling apologies for him.

“good fucking girl,” he spat, chest further swelling with pride as it appeared that he was worn you down enough for now.

ayato pushed your knees up to your chest before thrusting back into you, drooling pussy even more exposed for him and ready to be filled. you could feel the head of his cock kiss your cervix periodically, your back arching at the sensation.

“‘m g’na cum,” you slurred, “‘lease, can i, please, ‘ll be so good,”

he could tell how far gone you were, fucked dumb on his cock for his eyes only. you looked absolutely angelic to him, such a pretty thing all messy underneath him. his mind ticked over. . . surely you deserved a reward, right?

ayato reached for your vibrator once again, flicking the toy on and pressing it against your pulsing clit. screams of euphoria fell upon his ears, your velvety walls gripping ayato’s cock as you came undone with a cry of his name. he praised you as you came down from your high, triggering his own orgasm as he twitched inside of you.

sticky ropes of ayato’s cum spilled from your cunt, a sickeningly sweet concoction of your releases dirtying your bodies and the sheets below you. he made quick work of freeing your wrists, gently caressing the red marks on your skin with an uncharacteristic amount of care before slumping down next to you, bubblegum locks splaying all over your pillows.

“next month,” his voice remained ragged and raspy as he regained his breath, “my place. i have some of my own toys that i’d like to introduce to you.”

well, at least you wouldn’t have to worry about paying your rent anymore.