#Song inspired

[fluffytimearts]

"I'll see you on the Moon"

[savagium]

song inspired :]

[maranigai]

Пылью под пологом голос мне полоза слышится. Полные голода очи-золото в пол-лица. Он зовет меня вниз: «Родная, спустись, Обниму в тридцать три кольца!»

[inkly-heart]

Song- margø - r.i.p.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Darlin', can I be your favorite?

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: In a world full of death and tortue, wouldn't it be the easiest to seduce a man who is able to protect you at any cost? Ryomen Sukuna definetely is exactly that. Now, the seduction part...

Warnings: no really deep plot, just some teasing and a little bit of spice here and there, language, reader trying to seduce Sukuna with literally everything lol

Inspired by the song "favorite" by Isabel LaRosa

Your mission was clear since the first time you saw him in action, felt how strong he is: Get Sukuna to fucking adore you.

It might sound ridiculous to the untrained ear. Sukuna, the king of curses, the most frightful creature walking on this planet? To even consider you’d be able to warm his heart is worth a laughter. You know exactly how all the others would react when they hear your wild plan to seduce him, to get him to catch feelings for only you.

But what better defense than having the king of curses by your side? This fucking world is nothing but a battlefield and as a jujutsu sorcerer, you’re in the middle of it. Day in day out you risk your life in order to safe others. And even though it might sound tempting to simply haunt after Gojo Satoru, it’s not the same.

No, you want Ryomen Sukuna and no one else.

Your heels click against the floor as you make your way through Shibuya’s train station, Sukuna’s fingers lying in your purse comfortably. What better way to catch a glimpse into his heart than giving him back those? Well, to be exact you don’t have a set plan apart from getting him to like you. After all, love can’t be forced, right?

Well, that skin tight dress paired with those high heels you chose for today might do that, though.

“Now, where are you Yuji?”, you mumble to yourself, eyes darting around the worn-down area.

There is no doubt in the fact that a fight occurred here not long ago. The air still smells like blood and sweat, the wall is still hot from an enormous impact. But who? Was it Yuji? You follow a trail of blood with your hips swinging from side to side. You just need to find him, need to seduce the king of curses. This is your best chance to not croak in this shitty job.

Your heels stop in their tracks.

A tuft of pink hair rests against the entrance of the rest room, so minor that you almost missed it.

Almost.

You walk towards the beat-up boy while casually inspecting him. He’s definitely alive, but barely. Yuji’s whole face is covered in multiple cuts and bruises. Who on earth did he fight against? And where is that other person? No, it’s not your responsibility to think about that right now. With a swift motion you open your purse and reveal those oh so deadly fingers.

“Now be a good boy and swallow”, you purr.

Your hand grabs his neck and yanks his head upwards while you carefully feed Yuji Sukuna’s fingers. Please, let this work. You are tired to the brim of running away, of fighting curse after curse each and every day. How about a peaceful life with Sukuna by your side? Fuck Jujutsu High, fuck Satoru Gojo. You don’t want to die before you were even able to live properly.

“Get your hands off me, human.”

For a moment, your heart skips a beat. Just one look into his red gleaming eyes and suddenly so matured face is enough for you to realize that this isn’t Yuji anymore. No, the person you are sitting on with your hand wrapped around his neck is none other than Ryomen Sukuna.

Finally.

“Oh, you’re awake. That went smoother than I thought”, you reply with a cheeky grin, not moving an inch away from him like he told you to.

“Who the hell are you, brat?”

He has definitely seen you before, you are a jujutsu sorcerer without any doubt. But why are so damn close, why does your hand wrap so delicately around his neck? Your dark eyes rest on his face unpromising, lashes hanging into your orbs seductively. What’s that supposed to be?

“My name’s whatever you make it. But how about wife?”

Sukuna isn’t able to move, let alone speak. Did you really introduce yourself to the king of curses like that? He shouldn’t waste any time, wring your neck the way you deserve it, dissolve you into tiny pieces. Who the hell do you think you are to speak to him like that? You, a puny woman? Not even the fact that you reunited him with a few of his missing fingers is enough to spare your life.

But why…Why does he still sit there like he did before, allowing your hand to rest against his neck? Why is he unable to give you a sharp answer like he always does?

“I am the king of curses”, is the only thing he’s able to press out.

“And I’ll be your girl. Deal?”

He lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, eyes scanning your features up and down. You do have a pretty decent face for a human, your delicate eyes keeping him trapped. That confidence dripping from each and every pore of yours, the way your body is so near that he’s able to hear your blood circulate…

“What the hell are you talking about, stupid girl? If I wanted to, I could kill you without even flinching. Now get off me and run for your life.”

When Sukuna finally regained his threatening voice again, he expected your heart to shiver, your body to stumble backwards until you run away. But instead, you move even closer and dare to sit on top of him, gleaming eyes now staring him into the ground while your naked thighs rub against his pants.

“But you didn’t. Think I must be your favorite.”

The fact that he didn’t kill you right on the spot when you disobeyed his order is enough proof that your plan is actually working. Yes, you managed to confuse the king of curses, to arouse his interest. Now the only thing that’s left is seducing him.

“You are annoying as hell. Now get off me, I have some work to do”, he barks back at you.

His hand grabs your wrist roughly and removes your grip around his neck. But instead of simply throwing you off him, he holds your arm in place while keeping only inches of distance.

Oh, his lips are so close that you are literally able to taste them. Just one movement, one innocent flinching of your hips above his and the gap between you both is closed.

“Are you trying to seduce me, dumb girl?”, he breathes out.

He does it so well, keeping himself cool and composed while his mind races back and forth with your intoxicating smell penetrating his nose. In his long life, there was never a woman who actually tried to seduce him. After all, he’s the king of curses, so strong because of the fact that he never felt love or affection for anyone in all those years. He’s heartless, cold, a menace. Why would a woman ever get the idea of showing him affection? He came here to kill, to destroy this fucking city and make that brat suffer.

But now there’s you.

And apparently you couldn’t care less about the fact that he’s the king of curses.

“Actually, I am”, you purr, your free hand beginning to draw small circles onto his chest.

“Why would you do something so fucking stupid?”

“I mean, you’re the strongest, right?”

He has to blink a few times, the way you look at him as if he’s the dumb one catching him completely off guard.

“I’m the king of curses”, he reminds you all over again.

“And with being your favorite, you take me places-“

“What the fuck are you talking about?”, he interrupts you roughly.

You roll your eyes in sheer annoyance, nails now digging into his chest.

“Make me your wife so I don’t die”, you finally blurt out.

Is this the reason behind your questionable action? He could have killed you right on the spot and just one look into your gleaming orbs tells him that you know that all too well. And still, you risked your life for him to protect yours. Were you really so sure you’d be able to seduce the king of curses with a lousy dress and some high heels?

“Why would I do that?”

Enough playing. He should behead you right on the spot before torturing you for the time you wasted. You aren’t even worthy to breathe the same air as him, let alone being this close to his body.

But…Why isn’t he able to simply throw you off, then? Why is he even questioning what you’re up to, replaying your words over and over in his mind?

“Because I’ll let you taste-“

Your mouth is so close to his ear that your hot breath caresses his skin while the filthiest thoughts leave you with ease. His eyes grow wider and wider with each passing second, disgusted but at the same time…

“Enough”, he hisses through gritted teeth while grabbing your shoulders roughly.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Aren’t you at least a little invested? I have a lot to offer”, you reply, ignoring his last question elegantly.

The war inside his head makes him forget that he’s actually out on a mission for a moment. You…you are so different from all those other jujutsu sorcerers, risked your puny life so that he eventually watches over you. How ridiculously brave, how fucking stupid. But still, when your gleaming eyes rest on his face like that, that oh so cheeky grin plastered on your face you make him wonder. A wife, his favorite?

Before he’s able to think straight again, a wave of freezing mist darts towards you at neck-breaking speed. His heart skips a beat, eyes darting towards Uraume who fixates you with hate dripping from every poor of her warped face.

You won’t be fast enough. No jujutsu sorcerer except for Gojo Satoru himself is able to escape Uraume’s powers when surprised. If he doesn’t react, you’ll die. But isn’t that what he wants, that you finally vanish into thin air and leave him alone? You, the girl who just claimed him as her husband only because she doesn’t want to die.

“No.”

His body moves on its own. All of the sudden he finds himself standing in front of you, his hand deflecting Uraume’s Frost Calm with ease.

“Don’t you dare to hurt her, Uraume.”

You can’t believe it, breath getting stuck in your throat. He really did save you. Even though all you did was purring at him, trying to convince him with sugary words, Ryomen Sukuna stood up for you and defended you against one of his. Out of instinct, you push your wobbly legs off the ground, excitement filling you to the brim. With that oh so cheeky smile, you wrap your arm around his and eye the person in front of you up and down innocently.

“But she…she is a human being, Master. She’s a weakling, one of your enemies”, Uraume breathes out.

“Who allowed you to speak to your Master like that? Get out of my sight and do what you were taught to.”

You watch in awe as the person standing in front of you crumbles, their hateful gaze almost piercing through you like a knife until their gone as fast as they came.

“So, I really am your favorite, huh?”, you hum.

“Shut up brat, I’m the only one who can kill you. Now get going, I have a lot of work to do.”

Tags:

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@okay-it-is-ivy

[tullecake]

From between clouds being torn apart, my tears overflow. I clung to you tight as you slowly blurred away.

glow - keeno

felt kinda sad today, i love this song and them, so i doodled :D

[vilochkaaa]

« 一 .. and blood spurting all around her, she staggers and falls on the table.»

« 一 and he's standing there at a loss

dripping gloomily from the knife

and he's pounding and chills

and his lips are quivering.»

inspo:

[fruity-m0nster]

"No one (else) said they were afraid of love as beautifully as you"

[nemesyaaa]

a house in nebraska ! rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary ; you were the reason he won't come home but you still call home. this story is based on the song of ethel cain.

warnings : it's angst. fully angst. it's about toxic relationship. so violence, arguing and fighting, sick behavior, daddy and mommy issues, the urge of love and being loved, mentions of drugs, the feeling of being misunderstood and unsteady. home is used as a metaphor of relationship. it's about inner rage too. slight of smut but very little. both rafe and reader being fucked up. southern goth/small town coded.

author's note : it's my first time writing angst so be easy one me please ! as i said, it's based on " a house in nebraska" by ethel cain (because she's my favorite artist and my muse.) and a lot of her songs make me think of rafe, but i also take inspo of her others songs like crush, strangers, and hard times. also a hint of bet on losing dogs by mitski.

i dont know how many words are in this works, but i think around 3k ? it's a one-shot ! BETTER TO READ IT WHILE LISTENING TO A SAD SONG. (a house in nebraska (live version)or anything else)

you lived in the nebraska with rafe, he was your man and you were his girl. it was a small town that allowed you to be just him and you against the world, to be safe from the rest. but the ugly truth was that your house had become a raging mess. the mattresses had become dirty, the silence too comfortable, the night too long, the emptiness too deep, the love too absent and the violence too present. everyone was angry here, even demons and the silence.

rafe was a storm, and every time you tried to calm it, you became further worse. no, you weren't becoming like him, you were becoming him, the mirror of his emotions, full of rage and inexpressible feelings. like a bomb, you needed it to come out, to scream and explode. like a bomb, you needed to hurt, and destroy everything in your way.

you had built this house together, when he still worked with his hands, oh god, how much you loved those big and strong hands, the dirt and bruises on his skin. the softness of his palms when he touched you, the pulsating veins engraved. they were made to love you, to caging you. they were always rushed with blood and wounds because of his work, but despite how dirty they were when he came home, they were always pure and clean on your body. but you also were so in love with his messy sweaty hair, caressing by the wind. he was tall and handsome, the kind of man who worked all day, and drunk at night, some whiskey or bourbon. but never missed to please the needs of his girl.

when he smoked his red marlboros on the porch, you were sitting on his lap like a sleepy girl to take a nap on his heavy arms that managed to hug your body. when he took a sip of his cold beer, while you had nothing to do but being his own pretty girl. when he allowed you to bathe him, cleaning the mess and the sweat. when you used to learn him how to play some classic music on the old piano, and he was just turned on by the way you used so damn well your fingers, and making you sit on the board, and fuck you right there, even if the windows were wide open.

at this time, you would have die for him.

when he still listened to what you said, when he still answered your calls and did not make you sick by his silence, when you laughed every time he came home . but now you were starting to hate the fact that he was coming.

how did the man who was supposed to make you so happy manage to break you so easily? but you weren't an angel either, oh far from it, you had neither wings nor halo on your head, you didn't even have god in your heart. you made him, like all men, your enemy.

it was four in the morning, it was still dark, you were waiting in the living room.

the tv wasn't on. rafe had broken it during an argument. that wasn’t the only thing he shattered, you had to be the hardest thing he does. not even with his fists, with just the force of his words, the way they were murderous, the way they had the force to tear your heart open and crushed it into pieces.

most people would say that this man was not the type to cry, that a man doesn't cry, but rafe cried. and you had seen him a couple of times, and the first time you saw him burst into tears, you knew straight away that it was the real him. that behind all this hatred, this anger, there was a hurted little boy. and who grew up with an open wound, a wound impossible to heal, even with all the love in the world.

rafe was the kind of man who screamed, who cried, who bled, a fallen angel who had lost god along the way, who had been ignored, but mostly, never heard.

when he opened the door to the house, you hated the strong smell of alcohol, but also of blood. you never asked him for anything, the only thing you wanted was for him to come home on time for dinner, to go to bed with you. but no one, absolutely, no one tamed a dog like him. and you rathered not bet on losing dogs.

“where were you ?? ” you had already started shouting due to lack of patience, getting up from the chair to confront him.

you had seen him sigh, making that bored face, like you had no reason to be upset, that face that made all women become even worse.

“if you had the same energy to scream when we fuck, we would have a fantastic sex life.”

“seriously, rafe? you want to play the asshole, right now ? ”

“ it will suit your bitch behavior, so why not ?”

you slapped him very hard in the face. what obviously rafe didn't find this very amusing, he crushed you in the wall, pinned your hands above your head.

“ don't you dare slapping me again. you want to be mean, sweetheart ? i can be meaner. let's see....oh this is the necklace that your mom offered to you before leaving ? how sweet. maybe, i can sell it for a good price. ”

“ rafe. don't. ”

he shushed you, by putting his other hand on your mouth. “ you're not allowed to talk right now. you had your turn for, now, it's my fucking turn. and i will do whatever the fuck i want ! it's my house, my rules. ”

he unhooked the necklace, as you tried to break away from his grip but he closed his fingers tighter against your wrists.

“I'm going to kill you, no matter what you do, i'm going to kill you. ”

“murder me” he said with a louder voice. “i’m asking you to murder me! it’s probably the only good thing you’ll have done well in your life. you know even if i die tonight, i will die yours. even if you kill me, i will always be here.”

he released you, and you exploded. “you have exceeded the limits, rafe! ”

” since when are there boundaries between us, sugar? we're freaks, remember? ”

you threw away the first object you found, it was an empty coffee cup. you threw it at his face. but he had dodged it with a sick smile. your jaw clenched, eyes blazing with fury, you were out of control. you were what he wanted you to be every time he came home late

” oh you can do better than that baby. i'm sure i taught you how to shoot better than this when i showed you how to kill? do you remember? ”

“ this, this fucking attitude, rafe is why everybody leaves you ! ”

“ yes. and do i fucking care, y/n ? do i fucking care ? i grew up in a family where nobody loved me, nobody reached after me, nobody looked after me, nobody dared to pay attention to me and you tell me i have to care about everyone leaving me ? no, it's not fucking fair ! so do you understand ? i don't care. if you want to leave, you know better than me that the door is open because you're the only one to be stucking in front, waiting like a fucking dog that i come come. ”

“ fine. i leave ! ”

you took the keys of the car, even if rafe hated that you drove, especially at midnight. but you were too upset, too mad.

your man wasn't done with you. he stood in front of the car you were driving.

“if you think i'm afraid of killing you, when you were the one who taught me how to do that, you're wrong. ”

" yes ? then show me how well i did my job. kill me. ”

“ rafe, i’m not kidding. ”

“ perfect, we are both serious then. ”

you moved the car forward, pressing the pedal with your feet. you hitted him with the car. it was strong but not violent either.

you got out of the car quickly to check on him. but he was smiling, a little blood on his face.

“are you sick!? ”

“ i raised you well, i fear. now, lick this face. i can see in your eyes how pretty you find me covered with blood, so please yourself, lick it all. ”

“ wait, i will find some tis….”

“ no, with your tongue. clean my whole face with your tongue. don't waste anything. i want to be able to kiss you right after, and recognize the taste of my blood all over your mouth. you want to be sick ? make me feel sick too. ”

maybe you were too young to realize that some loves could be bad. but this relationship was toxic. you had both destroyed each other, and it was complicated when you saw this world, this universe only through your union. you felt like you had lost a lot, like you had lost everything, like you had failed. maybe, you were the failure, and rafe, the problem. but also, maybe, he was the failure and you, the problem.

and you hated not knowing what was going on in rafe's head, you hated that no one on this earth could figure it out, and that even rafe himself didn't know it. he was crazy, he was sick but that wasn't all, it couldn't be just that.

you gave up the fight, going to the bathroom to take a bath. you needed some peace because the house didn't feel like a home anymore.

sometimes wheezie would call you to see if you were okay, she had grown up, and you lied to her all the time. because it hurt so much to be two in a relationship, but not feel like you were a part of it anymore. and the worst part of it all was that you could kill yourself for just one minute of affection, just one second of happiness, just one moment in the past when everything was okay. where rafe was still the sweet little boy you knew. but the stories were not meant to have a happy ending.

it was hard this feeling, this lack when he still lived with you in this terrible house. but one day you'll be the reason he won't come home again. but you would always call home. you promised yourself. because it would always be yours.

rafe had joined you in the bathtub. and you could tell by his red and empty eyes, his blank stare that he had been crying. he cried and he was not the drugs, he was you, only you.

and you didn't mention it. you didn't say anything. you preferred to stay smart and not start another fight.

“the walls could break down with so much screams. ” you said, laughing slightly.

“maybe we should sell the house. ”

“i like this house. i feel at home here. i have nowhere to go. ” you lied for the two first, but not for the last.

and it was true. you had built everything, paved everything here. you had remade a world. you couldn't leave, you couldn't leave anything. and above all, you were too tired to leave.

it would be a lie to say that you didn't had sex in the bathtub, that you didn't feel his tears on your shoulder, that you didn't feel his thrusts get harder each time a sob broke out his empty eyes, that you didn't feel how much he was breaking every time you took pleasure. because, it was hard for him to seeing you being happy. because it was so hard to take care of you. because it was so hard to feel loved and being loved. you were both too young, too stupid, too sick for love.

and rafe wanted to make you happy without sex, without all this selfish sex. no, he wanted to make you happy by some casual things. but sometimes, you pissed him off so bad to the point, he wanted to leave. but how can a man who hoped to be loved can leave the woman who promised to cherish him ? it was too tired, too angry, and too unsteady to leave. you broke him too. and it was sad for him, because you were the only one he was not scared to tell it hurts.

but at six in the morning you were fighting again as if it were a ritual, a need, a desire to destroy each other, as if sometimes love needed to be violent and destructive to work. actually, for freaks like you, surely.

“why did you throw my fucking drugs down the toilet?! ”

“because you don’t need that!” ”

“you don’t know what i need, you barely know what i want! you had no fucking right to do that. ”

“ don't be a crybaby ! ”

“ repeat. i dare you to repeat. ”

“crybaby! you're a fucking crybaby, rafe! your new personality changes nothing about the boy you were and will always be! what, you don't like the truth ? bad for you, i'm about to tell you what everyone doesn't want to tell you. because i'm not scared at all of you ! you're a fucking crybaby ! ”

“ but you're still here, you're still fucking here. because you know what ? i'm maybe a crybaby, but i'm a river worth wading. and this is why, you're standing in front of me with all this confidence. you wanted a broken man, you wanted someone to fix ? then come on baby, i'm here, i'm watching you, i'm listening, i'm literally at your feets, fix me ! fix the little boy you wanted, make him better. ”

“ rafe…”

“no, i'm asking you now who do you think you are? do you think that because you have this attitude, it doesn't make you a little girl who needs her daddy? because damn, yes, you need him. but i fear daddy was the only one who didn't need you because guess what ? he left. and you make all the men leave around you ! but the difference between us is that you care. when i fucking dont care.”

“ you're sick, a sick asshole. and don't touch me ! ” you pushed him away, but he came back, his hand on your throat. “ but you're the sick one who loves me, remember that ?” he answered.

“ but do you think i still love you ? ” you said with a smirk, taking pleasure to see his widen eyes. “ i'm asking you right now, do you think i still love you, and if one day, someone will like you like i do ? it would be so hard for you to find happiness after me, i can promise you this. you will fight a lot. because ? can you see ? can you see i can breathe without you, i can live without you ? but you, can you do this ? yes, you can fight, you can scream and shout but what else ? ”

“ it doesn't hurt, y/n. it doesn't hurt. and you can't break me, as you can't fix me. ”

“ then why are you crying, big boy ? why are those tears for, if not for me ? ”

“ i built a home for you, i did everything for you. ”

“ and then what ? ”

“ don't make me regret it, y/n. don't make me regret the only good thing i've made well in my life, just don't make me regret...this. you don't understand. why did every house i'm in never felt like home ? ”

“ you destroy everything, rafe. but me too, i guess. the difference is that you have an excuse, a reason for being like that. your dad fucked up with you. and i hate him for that. if he had loved you correctly, you would have known and learned how to love people, how to be attached to them. but you don't know any of that, you don't know what it is to love, and to be loved. everything i do for you, you could call it love, even when i'm mean. but it's false, love is tender, it's beautiful. but you know, i think i'm sick because i also like the way you love me, this violence, this rage, this impulsiveness, it drives me crazy but it makes me alive. so, do you think you could do it again? ”

“ why you didn't leave, why you never leave ? ”

“ because it's our house. we're stuck in forever. this is our house in nebraska, our only heaven. now be a good boy and cry a little for me, i think i'm going away a little...” you said, taking him in your arms, your hand placed on his back, and your hand pressed to his cheek. “don’t worry, i cry a lot too. all the time, even when you make me happy. ” you shushed him, bursted in tears in the hug.

you kissed him on the corner of his lips, your mouth meeting his tears, before he joined you in this kiss, you felt his sad and salty tongue against yours, his hands came squeeze your waist.

but now in the present, you were alone. the house still existed but it was just you.

you weren't sleeping anymore, because you kept hoping that he would come home, you were hoping that he would come home late at night.

but you were alone in a dirty and cold mattress. and you prayed for him hoping he was okay. the phone was broken but you were hoping to hear it ring, the door was open and you were waiting for a sign.

nothing was right, everything was wrong. you just wanted to say to rafe that he had you, that he had a house, and his home missed him, like nobody ever does in his life.

you didn't realize that you had been lying all this time, and that you were silently dying. but at least you died, only his.

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Fuck Your Status

Pair: FB!Joe Burrow x Black!Fem Reader

Descr: Self Care Sunday is taking a bit long, so here's a prelude to it that gives you a "basis" on their relationship.

TW: MDNI 18+ | smut, protected sex, p-in-v, jealous and possessive traits, bratty behavior, drinking, self centered!Joe. Joe's POV, next one is more reader. Not entirely proofread.

Babe's Version | Main Masterlist | Self Care Sunday

WC: 1.1k

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚

You’ve had my attention for months, like a strong obsession. I don’t know what happens to me when you’re around. Your pull isn’t supposed to be this strong. I just can’t stay away, and by the looks of it you can’t either.

Everyone in the room disappears when you walk in, we could be in a packed stadium and it’d still only be you and me, just like right now. 

We’ve been here for less than an hour and the guys are already 2 bottles deep. Ja’Marr carried his celebrations to the center of club with a girl on each arm and another one on his front, he’s clearing having the time of his life. Tee brought a girl back to our section, both indulging on the free drinks being placed on the table.

While I’m sat on the opposite side of the couch nursing my second drink carefully. There’s always eyes on me, no matter where I go or what I’m doing. I should be able to enjoy our party, we did just beat the Chiefs and we’re AFC champs. But there’s too much at stake, then you waltzed in, completely ruining my plans.

Amber brown skin that sparkled in the low lighting, tight kinky curls pulled out of your feline features, glossy red lips plump and pulled up into a smile, and a little v cut black dress that hugged every curve. You looked downright sinful, I took a deep breath as my jeans started to feel tighter. 

“You alright bro?” I looked over at the voice and noticed the slight smirk on his lips as his eyes flickered over in your direction as well. “Oh I didn’t she’d make it, I guess nurses do have off days.”

I chewed on my bottom lip and let out a breath. “You invited her. Why?” 

Tee shrugged with a look that said I knew exactly why. “I mean we are AFC Champs right? Everyone deserves a celebration.” He winked then got up and walked off with his girl.

I scoffed and brought my drink to my lips. When I looked back over to you, your dark siren eyes were already on mine. My hands itched to touch your smooth skin, the way you sat on the barstool made the skirt of your dress disappear. Your legs, neck and breasts on display for everyone, like you weren’t going to end up under me by the end of the night. A smirk grew on your dark cherry red lips and you picked up a drink that matched your pout perfectly. We silently cheers from opposite ends of the club. 

A grimace flexed my face as the dark liquor flowed down my throat. I shake the feeling off and look back over at the bar, but you was gone. Maybe it was for the better, I shouldn’t be seen with you anyway. Then a buzz came from my back pocket, a low chuckle erupted from my throat as I pulled my phone out.

༊*·˚

From: Lioness😈

Miss me 😋

To: Lioness😈

I can’t leave with you

From: Lioness😈

Who said anything about leaving? I just got here🙄

To: Lioness

I thought you had work

From: Lioness😈

I don’t tell you everything

To: Lioness😈

Whatever, where are you

From: Lioness😈

Now you wanna know😏

To: Lioness😈

Ive never seen that dress before

From: Lioness😈

It’s Tee’s fav

joe typing..

From: Lioness😈

Single stall women’s room, behind the wall 3rd door on your left

Threw the rest of my drink back, pushed my beanie low and left the section.

To: Lioness😈

Stay there

read at 11:57 pm

༊*·˚

Turning the corner, there was no one lingering in the hallway, surprisingly. I knocked on the door once and a bronzed hand came out and yanked me inside. Now up close, I could admire your perfectly feline features being beautifully emphasized by your makeup. 

Another smirk graced your glossy lips. “I did not invite you here so you could just stare at me. I already know how fine I look, Higgins beat you to it.” 

I rolled my eyes and stepped forward, crowding you against the sink. Your smirk slowly disappeared as my hands gripped your waist and my lips dipped to your ear. “If I hear his name come out your mouth one more time, I’ll make you choke on it.” 

I felt your heart patter against my chest and a shiver crawl up your spine. “Not so talkative now are you? Now who’d you wear this dress for?” 

“No one- myself.” 

“Yea I don't think so.” I pulled back and roughly turned you around, facing the mirror. I slid my hands down to your hips and shoved your ass against my crotch. 

“Joey!” You yelled in a whisper, glaring at my reflection. 

I smirked while palming your cheeks, “just tell me the truth, did you wear this-

My smirk dropped and eyes darkened, you looked into the mirror with those damn siren eyes again. Couldn't be innocent even if you tried, fucking minx.

I shoved the dress up and groaned when your bare ass was revealed. “Where are your damn panties?”

You leaned over to your purse on the floor and pulled out a black lace thong, waving it in the air. “You mean these? I got tired of them.”

Then flung them towards me, catching them I resist the urge to bring the lace to my nose and stuff them in my back pocket.

“You’re just asking to be punished aren’t you? You must really want someone to find us in here. Wanna get caught fucking Cincinnati's best quarterback?” 

You roll your eyes, lifting your arms around the sink. “I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about your damn status.” 

I chuckle shoving you back down and tugging at my zipper. “Then why are you here?”

“So I could get fucked in the bathroom of a club by Cincinnati’s nerdiest white boy.” Locking eyes with you in the mirror, a small warmth burns in my chest.

“That’s your real status.”

“Well you’re right about one thing.” A low groan is released as my cock’s freed from its cage. Your hand comes up and holds a condom out to me. I rip the wrapper with my teeth and roll it on.

“I’m always right.” You say rolling your eyes, I return the gesture and smack your ass. “Ow!”

I rub the tender meat, massaging the fatty muscle then kick your legs open. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“Make me.”

The little angry look on your face almost make me laugh, like you don’t need me to fix your attitude and get you to actually calm down for once.

“Gladly.” I grin swiping my finger over your heat finding your essence just dripping down your thighs. ‘It’s been a week, but you’ll be fine,’ I think as a line myself up.

“Wait- fuck!”

♡.︶︶︶︶.♡

likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and treasured, as always♥︎

[sailing-ever-west]

felt like this song fit Nami

[kittenlittle24]

Hiya,

I make up scenarios in my head and publish them online.

I try to upload regularly but it depends on my work schedule.

House M.D.:

Idiot

Colleagues

Sleepy Girl - narcolepsy and smut

Avoidance - mentions of miscarriage

Runaway

Chokehold

Fortnight - angst

Fortnight - part two

Guests

Cleopatra - angst

Roommates - smut

Picture this

Courthouse

Appendicitis

Career Day

Funeral

Mayfield

Requests are welcomed

More characters/shows may be added in the future.

[missrosiesworld]

Forbidden Love

artist @fantasia-kitt

In the quiet corners of the world, where shadows and light intermingle, a love story unfolded—one so intense and forbidden that even the heavens themselves wept. Sol, a figure marked by a tragic past and brooding demeanor, found solace in the unexpected presence of someone he considered his soulmate.

They never wanted Sol to find you. The whispers of destiny, the murmurs of fate—all conspired to keep you apart. Yet, in the twists and turns of an uncertain world, you two met. It felt as though the universe had orchestrated this chance encounter, despite celestial forces working against it. Every touch, every shared glance, felt like a defiance of the cosmic order.

Whenever Sol reached out to hold your hand, a silent, invisible chorus rose in dismay. The angels, ever-watchful and vigilant, sensed the unapproved union between you two. "I hear the angels cry," Sol would whisper, his voice tinged with awe and sorrow. There was something about your connection that rippled through reality, making even divine guardians tremble.

No, they didn't want you to be his. Your love was a rebellious act, a bold declaration against destiny's decrees. The angels, terrified by the strength of your bond, wept tears of celestial light. Their fear wasn't born out of malice, but an understanding that such intense love could unravel the universe.

The ground seemed to cave in whenever the two of you were together, as if the world itself couldn't bear the weight of your passion. There was a sense of impending doom, a feeling that heaven would never allow you both to cross its gates, bound together as you were. But there was a defiant beauty in knowing that this world, with all its imperfections and fleeting moments, was the stage for your love.

"Heaven will never let us in," Sol would say, a sad smile playing on his lips as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. His eyes, those piercing reddish-orange orbs, held resignation and fierce protectiveness. He knew your love was a forbidden fruit, yet he couldn't bring himself to walk away.

The world wasn't made to last forever, nor were the rules that governed it. Every time Sol touched your hand, brushed against your cheek, or shared a quiet moment with you, it felt like a small victory against a cosmic decree. The angels, with their tears and silent laments, were witnesses to a love that defied the heavens themselves.

In those stolen moments, in the quiet of twilight or the hush of dawn, you and Sol made the angels cry. Your love, so pure and yet so forbidden, was a paradox—a gentle storm that raged against the boundaries of the mortal and the divine. It was a love that transcended time, a connection so deep that it shook the foundations of everything you'd ever known.

As the world continued to turn, and as the stars in the heavens watched over you, one thing remained certain: Baby, you and Sol made the angels cry. And in that tearful acknowledgment, there was a bittersweet acceptance of a love that was both a curse and a blessing—a love that would be remembered long after the stars faded from the sky.

-

This story was inspired by the song "Make The Angels Cry" by Chris Grey. The Kid at the Back is a psychological, romantic, horror fantasy visual novel for viewers ages 18+, created by the amazing @fantasia-kitt

[blckbrrybasket]

Good Luck, Babe.

Robin Buckley x Fem!Lesbian!Reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 10k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:  no use of y/n, mentions of sex, underage drinking/smoking, fluff, angst, jealousy, allusions to a physical fight, reader is in denial, wingman Steve, childhood friends to strangers to lovers

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Robin and you have been best friends since you were kids. You offer to help her learn how to kiss…looking back on it now, there was no way you could have had a different ending.

Inspired by Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan

Knowing Robin was a privilege. So many people mischaracterized her as a weird band kid, and she was, but she was also so much more than that. She was the girl who wished she was older to be free, who stared mindlessly at the ceiling when she was bored, and the girl who stubbornly slept through her growing pains to ignore them. Maybe it was just you who looked deeper and for that, you couldn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want to know her profoundly. For some inexplicable reason, you wanted to know her inside and out. Maybe that was why you had offered to help her practice kissing.

“It’s for whatever guy you’re interested in!” Robin snorted in incredulousness, “I am not interested in a guy.” How true of a statement that was. You groaned and shook her shoulders. “Okay! Then whoever you eventually like will be thanking me one day after we teach each other how to kiss.” Robin paused with a surprised expression, eyebrows sliding up her forehead. Holy shit, you were serious. Not kind of serious, still second-guessing serious, but one hundred percent wanting it serious.

She scoffed and turned her nose up. “I think you mean your future bachelors will be thanking me.” Falling back on banter was her only move to pretend she wasn’t as nervous as she was. “Robin!” You snapped back only to watch her fall back against your carpet laughing. Shushing her, you laid back against the floor to look at her. Once her slightly nervous giggling died down she shyly nodded. “Yeah, okay. Do you use tongue though?” Robin wrinkled her nose at her own inquiry. She’d heard girls talk about it before but she couldn’t see the appeal. “It sounds like it would feel gross.”

“Like a wet..snake slithering-” “Ew! No!” You pushed Robin away, careful not to knock over your fort, as you sat up. She snickered and mirrored your position, knees pressed together as you sat in front of each other. “It’s…nice.” You imagined. You had only kissed one person with tongue. David had just barely grazed your tongue with his when he’d grown too eager and immediately jammed his tongue into your mouth. You had to resist grimacing at the memory, hand fiddling unsurely with the flap of the makeshift red tent you sat in. “It feels good,” you tried to reaffirm. Robin tilted her head in curiosity. “So how do we do it?”

An age-old question that apparently nobody had the answers for. “You just kind of do. Don’t worry about it, you’ll know when you’re doing it right.” Creeping closer to when you’d be kissing her you felt the need to sit up straighter and run a hand through your hair, shit did you brush your teeth recently? The thoughts were knocked out of your head once Robin leaned in closer, a hand bracketing your cheek like she had seen in the movies.

Most people would have been nasty or blatantly disliked her, but you never did. You always saw her for who she was. Robin was thankful she had such a good best friend, yet she was unsure as to why the word ‘friend’ hurt her to say. Feeling the high of her emotions for you she leaned in. It wasn’t enough to dismiss her second thoughts, although your lips brushing against hers automatically shut her brain up. Her eyelids fluttered shut as she pressed forward to slide your lips completely together. Unlike seeing the couples on screen or imagining kissing a boy this felt right. 

Robin remembers how her cheeks burned after you had kissed. If only you’d known how deeply her heart beat for you. It was a kiss or two, but it was enough to seal you in her heart. Unfortunately, the perfect bubble of that night would pop and become a memory after you two had grown apart.

Despite popular belief (Steve’s belief), the kiss wasn’t what caused you to become distant. You made no move to come out though. Hell, you didn’t even know yet. It was hard to decipher why you liked boys unless they gave you attention back. You never felt like that with Robin, but how could you? She was Robin Buckley. You were sure you would love her forever but that was what made it scary. That may have been a part of why you two weren’t as close anymore, but not a majority of the reason. She got new friends and so did you. Childhood best friends grow older and become different people, it happens all the time.

But Robin couldn’t let you go, so she held on for as long as she could. You tried your best to delay the inevitable, but you two were worlds revolving in different solar systems, so you watched each other's lives from afar. It was a weary dance, knowing you couldn’t stop the change. Robin felt the same, having seen you grow before her eyes. She loved how you used to go to parties to just hang out with her. She also remembered when that began to change, how you were invited to go play games, happily pulling Robin along. You hadn’t noticed the expressions on your new friends' faces. You didn’t realize that they didn't want Robin there, but she had. She always knew.

It was clear you were trying to not get drunk tonight. Neither you nor Robin tried to get inebriated when you attended sleepaway camp. Being older now meant most kids your age snuck out to play games and drink, but it never appealed to you. Nights like those were reserved for the sleepovers you had together. So it was another night where you stayed glued to Robin’s hip, sipping at a concoction that no doubt held more mixer than actual alcohol. What you didn’t expect was for Vicki to flounce over and beg you to join the circle for seven minutes in heaven. You never got invited to those sorts of games. One of your hands was pulled into Vicki’s, Robin’s eye twitching at the action. 

As always though you looked to Robin first. “Come on Robs, it could be fun!” Robin scrunched her nose up before sighing heavily and sliding her hand into your outstretched one. She wished she hadn’t agreed to do this. A part of her brain screamed to leave as soon as she took your hand, but the other part of her wanted to go along with it. The moment you sat side by side she could feel eyes on her that weren’t yours. She imagined you could feel it too with how you hesitantly released her hand.

Robin’s shoulders raised, trying to shrink into herself more as she leaned back. Who was she kidding being here? She burned holes into the carpet while she zoned out, only partially paying attention to the music playing. It was easy to pretend she didn’t care when she didn’t have to look at you. One by one people had their turns when the bottle was finally passed to you. Instantly Robin’s eyes rose to watch you through the pieces of hair that fell into her face. She could tell you were nervous. The small shake of your hand gave you away. Robin would bet a million dollars that nobody else noticed your patterns like she did. That fact didn’t stop the bottle from landing on your ex David.

From what she knew he had not been a good boyfriend to you or any girl he dated. He didn’t try. Sure, she knew it was seven minutes in heaven and not dating but it couldn’t stop her from wanting to remind you how badly he sucked. A vicious feeling churned in her gut as she saw him help you up. It continued to boil within her once David held open the closet door for you. The slow shutting of it felt like a countdown till she inevitably shot up from her seat.

There was nobody she had to make an excuse for why she was leaving, she simply grabbed her bag and left for your shared cabin. No one batted an eye. Of course, she wouldn’t know how you awkwardly sat in the closet, not wanting to kiss him. You knew if you kissed him it wouldn’t feel like what it did when you kissed Robin. It was one of the first times you could remember being so scared about your sexuality. 

That was also the first time Robin had been so jealous about who you hung out with. She wished she was a better person who didn’t care about what you did. It didn't affect her, so why did it? If she had dwelled on it further perhaps she’d remembered the hasty kisses you exchanged when wine drunk at sleepovers. How pretty you looked when you were splayed out on her bed, pulling her closer as you cuddled to sleep off the drinks. But by the time the sun rose neither of you would remember what happened on nights like those. So reasons continued to pile up for why you pretended you were someone different and reasons for why Robin grew more possessive.

You felt like a fraud. Did you even have a reason to feel like that? No one else in your life questioned you, except Robin was anything but thorough. You could see the look in her eyes. You knew she was questioning things. Unlike her, you didn’t want to know. The world wasn’t built for people like you, so you settled on becoming someone else. However, Robin could always tell when you were switching to a different personality. The first thing she noticed was that you smiled less when you were around new friends and that you did everything in your power to subtly avoid guys approaching you. There were two reasons why that was; A. you were a lesbian or B. you’re dating David.

Robin chewed noisily on her banana runts that were more than likely damaging her teeth. “So you and David..?” She hadn’t stopped thinking about that night. When you had come back from the closet to discover her gone you had been immediately worried, going to your cabin right after. Your voice floating up to Robin’s top bunk did little to calm her nerves when she admitted she wasn’t feeling fine. She never wanted to lie, but if you believed she was sick she wouldn’t say otherwise. It had blown over rather quickly when you saw no need to press further. Robin, however, couldn’t stop thinking about what might’ve happened that night and what was to come from it.

“Ugh, no,” Came your fast retort. “It’s not like that! He’s just…nice.” Was that possibly the best thing you could come up with? To be fair, it wasn’t like he was much more than that. Fling or no fling he would never have a long-lasting impression on your life. When you were seventy and living with Robin and your pets you wouldn’t think back to him. He was fleeting. “So there’s no guy..or girl?” Robin wanted to include the latter to see if you would say anything about it. No one had ever claimed she was sneaky.

You huffed out a breath and shook your head. “Dunno why you’re so invested, didn’t you say you didn’t want to imagine me in a relationship?” Robin flushed. “Well yeah! I don’t want to know when you’re kissing other people!” Neither of you picked up on her mistake. “Okay, then don’t ask!” You teased, but there was more to it. You didn’t want to tell her about your romantic endeavors. There wasn’t a sure explanation as to why, but you knew for sure you didn’t want her speculating who you were with.

However, Robin wanted more answers. She always did. All the Nancy Drew novels she read as a kid always got the best of her. But she also knew there was more to it than that. She saw what you were covering up, it was the same thing she did when you hugged her. Trying to still your beating heart. You were one and the same and yet neither of you would take the leap to admit it for a long time. 

Robin had gotten there first. After another year going by of secret glances and steering clear of the Victoria’s Secret catalog. It was like the models could feel her looking! Aside from that, things had been going smoothly. She was beginning to figure herself out and she loved who she was. Robin wanted you to love who she had become as well. You were the obvious choice to come out to first. Okay, you weren’t as close as you had once been, but you still saw each other often! If anyone were to understand it would be you. You knew Robin the longest out of everyone in her life, besides her parents. Unfortunately, the day she planned to tell you, your family was hosting a soirée that foiled her plans. 

It was supposedly a small get-together with a few tens more people than you expected. The only good thing to come from the crowd was that the home bar was open. You could easily sneak behind the counter, remembering how you and Robin used to. Was she coming tonight? Thinking on it briefly you turned and ducked behind the counter, grabbing a bottle. It wasn't a second later when someone called your name scoldingly. You jumped with a start only to hit your head on the edge of the cabinets. “Oh shit,” Robin gasped. 

“Robin! You ass!” You hissed and grabbed her hand to pull you up off the ground. Robin stifled a laugh, dodging your swipe at her, guiding the bottle in your hand to the counter. It was all in good fun how Robin slashed her other hand out to grab your side. The jabs only pulled more giggles from you before you grabbed Robin’s waist and pulled her entirely behind the counter. “Come on! I was going to- oh hey, Tommy.” You leaned against the counter, acting innocent. “Hey ladies, I heard some noise down here. You alright?” 

From the way his eyes only stayed on you, it was clear that he was only checking on you. Trying not to cringe at his opener you nodded. “We’re fine, Thomas. You can be on your way now.” He frowned, almost the pout of a petulant child. Like most boys his age, he was not used to being shut down. “And if I want a drink?” Tommy smirked and moved to lean against the counter. Your lips sucked in, pulling into a straight line. “There’s drinks in the kitchen. I think you’ll manage.” To cement your point you pointed your finger towards the kitchen before shooing him away.

Robin stifled a laugh at him stomping away. “What? You didn’t like him?” She joked, leaning on the countertop beside you. “God no. Him? I don’t like boys.” The admission slipped out without the logical part of your brain thinking. You hadn’t ever focused on that fleeting thought, purposefully ignoring it. The slip-up didn’t go unnoticed though, your body becoming rigid. “I-I like men,” you coughed out. “You know, not boys. They’re too immature.” A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you attempted to cover up. “You can tell me.” Robin returned.

It was an olive branch, a hope that you would take it and tell her what plagued you. Naturally, that didn’t happen. “There’s nothing to tell.” As if you could read Robin’s mind you continued on. “I’m straight.” The finality in your tone was overlooked by Robin. “I would never judge you. You know that right?” You sighed heavily and glanced at her. “That’s great Robin, but I’m straight. I don’t know what to tell you. I could kiss any girl and feel no different.” It was a challenge you felt Robin would be forced to turn down. Surely she wouldn’t step up to it.

Little did she know that you were projecting and suppressing how you felt, which was the complete opposite. Nevertheless, at seventeen neither of you knew when to quit. “Then do it.” Robin retorted. You scoffed and raised an eyebrow at her. “You seriously want to see me kiss a girl?” Robin jutted her chin out and nodded. “Fine. Kiss me, it’s not like we haven’t already.” The room felt tilted at your dare. You couldn’t be serious, but the glint in your eye told Robin you were.

This couldn’t end well. Anyone could have told you that and the both of you would have still gone through with it. You both knew it was different now. You were grown up with no excuses as to why this would happen and yet here the two of you stood playing into the dangerous game. “Okay.” You appeared staggered and Robin smirked at you, flicking your arm. “Like you said, dingus, we already have.” Nodding shyly you stepped up to Robin, toe to toe, you rolled your eyes with a smile. “Alright Buckley, try to woo me.” In any other atmosphere, she would have cackled, instead she lightly grabbed your waist and leaned in. She had waited too long to beat around this anymore. 

Lucky for her and you, no one walked in. They continued to avoid the room as Robin kissed you softly. The year or so gone by had certainly made a difference in how her lips knew how to move against yours. Your gasp was swallowed by her, your lips moving slowly. How desperately you wanted to bury your hands in her hair and kiss her till her lips swelled. The thought alone is what snapped you out of your fantasy. As you hastily pulled away Robin sighed and ducked her head. She knew it was coming, she knew it was a dumb decision to fall for her straight best friend. “Did I woo you?” She joked.

“Mhm,” you winked. “Enough for me to take a shot.” It was no more than a joke, but Robin could see how the light in your eyes had dimmed. “What are you doing?” Robin whispered. It hurt her to see you like this. No matter how much you tried to hide she would always find out eventually. She knew it wasn't the first or last time you would do something like this. Melancholy pulled at her heart as she studied you. How long would this last, if it ever stopped? “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking a shot.”

Your tone was too cheery for the grim look on your face. “Seriously?” Robin countered. Deep down she knew it was her fault for entertaining the idea. You couldn’t have known she had been in love with you for years. If you had, you would have never joked about kissing her. Logically, she knew it. She just wished it would change and a bit of her wished you would change. “Yes, seriously.” When you looked at her so wearily the anger all but vanished from her. “Do you want a shot or not Robin? It’s fine if you don’t want one, I can drink enough for the both of us.” Robin shook her head, looking away while chewing on her bottom lip. 

In an instant, the conversation was over, whatever was happening between you shifted. She walked behind you, out from the home bar, and walked to the three steps to take her back to the main house. “Tell your parents I say hi.” With that, she walked up the steps a little too harshly and left you alone to stare down at the alcohol.

That was one of the last conversations you held before finally, and silently, parting ways. If there was a tragedy hall of fame you swore that moment was etched in it forever. No one knew why you and Robin sat farther apart in classes. Those who knew least of all were your parents. They still spoke to each other frequently, Robin’s distance not taking too much of a toll on their friendships. As expected they spoke about the split, never able to understand what happened. They gathered no information from the pair of you. Neither you nor Robin would speak a negative word about the other.

Now, imagine Steve’s surprise when Robin first told him how you were the girl she was in love with. He was still that shocked about it after knowing for months. It wasn’t hard to see why though. Steve remembered you as the smart popular girl who wouldn’t hesitate to lend a hand to someone in need. Sweet, but not a pushover. Even now he still finds it hard to believe, harder to believe that the two of you kissed. He wasn’t one to judge, no, but you had a boyfriend to his knowledge and Steve was (is) a little…surprised…was all. It’s not every day that your friend is practically in the plot of a movie.

“Okay okay, but you guys kissed, right? Isn’t that enough of a sign that she likes you?” Steve’s pointer finger moved the tab of his beer can around and around across the metal opening. “No it’s not dingus- stop that.” Robin swatted Steve’s hand to stop him from making the terrible screeching noise. “Even if she did, which she didn’t, she wouldn’t like me now. We haven’t held a conversation since what? Graduation?”

“Which was last week.” Steve snorted at Robin’s drama. It wasn’t a wonder that she was a theatre kid. “Still!” She protested and flopped back on the pool chair. Her eyes studied the way the moonlight rippled on the pool’s water reflecting on a time that you would have tugged her along to stare at the night sky. Steve followed her view and sighed if he had to hear one more goddamn time about how you liked the moon. He had no doubt you were a sweet person but one thing Robin didn’t know how to do was shut up, and that factored into how much she spoke about you.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek to think of something. “Look. It’s the week after graduation, there are tons of parties happening right now. How about we go out, find you a nice girl, and get your mind off her.” Before graduation, Robin had truly thought she was over you. Sure, you still sent her a dazzling smile in the halls and she tripped into a trash can once because she swore she saw you check her out, but it was nothing. You didn’t want her and by god, she would force herself to not want you.

That was until she saw you cross the stage at graduation, waving enthusiastically at your friends. Until you cheered the loudest for her when they called her name. It didn’t make sense to others, why one of the star cheerleaders was shrieking happily for the nerdy, band kid, but it didn’t seem to phase you. Nothing did. So it made it hard for Robin to wonder why you still had a boyfriend. 

Were you truly not gay? Had her hopes been misplaced? She hadn’t expected you to shout it from the rooftops, but she’d hoped that you would have told her before you two drifted. Or it was possible you liked both guys and girls? However, the thought didn’t seem to make sense with how you talked about boys. Even when you were just beginning to date boys you had mentioned offhandedly that girls were always better than boys. 

“Men aren’t supposed to be as pretty as girls so it's okay…I wish they wouldn’t be so gross though.” In her younger mind, it made sense, though years later it didn’t seem to be foolproof. Even when guys were begging you for a date you brushed them off. Then came the unavoidable boyfriend that would stick for a month or two until you broke up and you were single for an extended period again.

Mulling over it Robin groaned and lolled her head to the side. She was tired of being hung up on what-ifs. “Fine. But the moment I’m bored we leave.” Steve clapped his hands, jostling the beer can that now sat in his lap. “There we go, that’s what I’m talking about!” He shot up to high-five Robin only to spill his beer onto his lap. “Ah, shit!” Robin smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. “Might want a change of jeans, Cupid.” “Oh fuck off.”

For a second it fell quiet except for Steve’s mumbled curses as he rubbed at his pants. The ever-growing stain only spread against his wiping. “Jesus, fine, but tomorrow you have to promise you’ll come with me.” Blue eyes rolled to the side and Robin reluctantly nodded. “Promise. Now I’m headed to your guest bedroom if you don’t mind. Don’t go to sleep covered in beer!” She hopped up with a grin and dashed inside. “It’d help if I had a towel! Hello! Hello? …Robin?”

Ignoring him, Robin took two steps at a time up the stairs excited to be tucked in bed. No matter how many times she jokingly complained about the bed in the guest room she always slept better at Steve’s house. He didn’t mind though, the company was nice to fill his empty house. Besides, when Robin remembered to wash the guest sheets Steve could shove his own sheets in her laundry load.

She slammed the door shut and flopped on the bed to stare at the stagnant ceiling fan. One night. One party and it would be fine. You would be far away from her mind. Squeezing her eyes closed, Robin could almost convince herself of it. She rolled over, tucking her hand under her chin not bothering to get into the pajamas she’d left here a million times before.

If she knew what the next night held for her, her restless sleep would have turned into no sleep. At her core Robin was an overthinker.

The next morning was usual and unsuspecting. Burnt eggs made by Steve who threw them out and settled on making coffee. Thankfully this Saturday was free of work shifts, unfortunately, that also meant Steve finding out where the nearest party was happening tonight. Subsequently, it had Steve stressing over what they would wear. Robin swore he cared more about their outfits than she did and she wouldn’t be wrong in the assumption. When it came to putting Robin out there Steve would put blood, sweat, and tears into it.

“It’s a party Steve, not tea with the queen.” Robin spun in a chair at her desk. Shortly after breakfast Steve had shoved her into his BMW and sped to her house. She had sworn up and down that it wasn’t a big deal, but to Steve it was. When he first began being so nice to her she thought it was because she helped him with flirting, then because she saved people from Russians, and then got him a job on top of all of it. To Robin’s pleasant surprise and delight it was because Steve actually enjoyed her company. 

Due to his experience, and care for Robin, Steve was determined to make this go well. He knew how nerve-wracking it could be to try and flirt with girls. Trust him, he knew, but he also knew there was another level he wouldn’t understand. All he could do was base things on his experiences and if this was going to go according to plan he was going to make sure Robin looked good.   

Steve planted his hands on his hips and twisted towards Robin. “Can you at least try to care? This is for you.” Robin’s lips pursed, moving from side to side before she sighed heavily. She raised a limp hand to point in the direction of a shirt. “Those with my black jeans.” Steve turned and nodded at the garment, pulling it off the hanger and tossing it onto the bed. “Good choice,” he commented, going to rummage for her jeans. “Yeah, well, it was her choice.” Neither of them needed to clarify to know she was talking about you. Steve’s lips pulled into a frown. “Tonight will be good.” He tried to weakly assert. She hoped it would be. 

Comparatively to Robin’s morning, yours was soon to be boring. There was no excitement for the millionth party you would be attending and definitely no surprise breakfast to wake up to. If you had known that was even an option your brain would have whisked you away in daydreams to what life could be like. In reality, you woke up far before the sun did, a routine you had formed over the last year. The few hours between you waking up and the sun rising was your safe haven. It was a comfortable silence that permitted you to slow down life and take in your surroundings.

Today you settled for staring at your boyfriend in front of you, studying his facial features. He was by no means ‘ugly’. By all standards he was conventionally attractive, however, you couldn’t bring yourself to yearn for him. The movies had infiltrated your head making you think love should be a whirlwind that swept you off your feet. Weren’t you supposed to burn for him, or at least crave to be in his presence? You couldn’t even bring yourself to come, having to fake your orgasm for him last night like always. You knew his ego would take a huge hit if you admitted this so you stayed silent.

It wasn’t him per se. It also wasn’t you though. You could come but not when you were with a man. It was always too much, not enough, too man-ish. If that made sense, which it didn’t. None of it did. What made it worse was the way your mind constantly wondered. Why did your brain keep drifting back to comparing every fling to Robin? She was gone. You wouldn't be hung up on losing a friend. She was a good example of a strong relationship, platonic sure, but it was something you subconsciously based your romantic relationships on. No one met the expectations though.

You never felt truly thrilled to be with who you were dating. Up until you had to exchange affection you were into it. Don’t get it wrong, you did feel something for who you dated but you weren’t sure what it was. It scared you too much to think about your boyfriend deeply, or any other man you had been with. How you wished he’d somehow feel the shift in the universe that you were now awake and wake up to smile at you like Robin used to.

Perhaps he’d stay up and talk about nothing for hours. None of it had to make sense you wanted it for the connection. Why could he not read your mind or simply go out of his way to do something meaningful for you without you having to ask? You were so tired of not having that connection with men. It became easier for you to find a woman and become close friends instantly! Men made it so hard.

And as if all the planets fell into alignment the breath was punched from your lungs. Fuck. Why now? Why did you suddenly figure it out now? In the end, it made sense, how had you been so blind? Staring at the ceiling you couldn't picture anything else in your head except the women you have loved in your life. Not friends or family, but loved loved. And every scene came back to Robin. You were choking. Maybe not literally, but there was no escape from the realization. Had you always known and simply forced yourself to hide it?

Unable to stop the rushing questions all you could focus on was how you ended up here. You never listened, not even to your own heart. Was this all life would be if you continued down this path? Men who pulled it together enough to have an average life, but never being able to fully love them. Realization after another, you recognized that you didn’t want to be next to a man when you walked down the aisle. You couldn’t. It felt like handing your life over. Ending something that had barely begun.

Looking back at Robert, there was no stopping the jolt of your body. It felt subconscious like it was telling you to run and never look back. From the dreadful feeling weighing you down, you supposed the earth had stopped turning and you could run straight off the edge of it. You wiggled back until you were close enough out from under the covers and stumbled out of bed. You couldn't look at him anymore, prying your eyes away to look at anything else. They scanned his familiar room for what could be the millionth time and you only felt sadness. Would your future home be decorated like this? Mediocre decorations with no touch of what felt like home. Forever compromising on how you wanted to feel.

It had barely registered in your mind that you had left his room, near running down the stairs and out of his house like a hookup who stayed over too late. You didn't know where to go. In another life, you would have legged it to Robin’s house but in this life, your feet carried you towards your home. The home where you had sleepovers in buried hopes that you’d uncover each other's secrets and sleep with legs and arms intertwined, pretending it was a hug. God, it was innocent and you craved to go back. You coveted your younger self for being filled with such innocent love for others. At the same time, you hated how buried your love became, concealed by fear. 

Years of your life had passed by without you realizing who you truly were. You silently begged the universe to make it better, whatever that meant. Bare feet hitting the pavement echoed against the looming houses of the neighborhood. What would someone think if they saw you running like hell was on your heels? Would it compare to the shock of what they would hear if they could see into your brain?

It seemed like seconds of running when you made it to your house, but judging by the brightening sky and the burning of your feet it had been much longer. You wanted to go back to the way you had been. It wasn’t shame, or not entirely. It was an odd limbo of wanting so desperately for itself to work out that you’d beg to go back to denying it. What good would that do though? All you could do was take a hot shower and relax before the party. You were still going with Robert, knowing you’d get an earful later for leaving in the middle of the night, but you were incapable of caring at this point.

His loss. Seriously, his loss. Without you dating him you’d feel freer and he would plead for another chance to be a good boyfriend this time. You wanted to piece yourself back together by taking back the power he had unknowingly stolen from you. He was good sometimes, but you didn't deserve ‘sometimes’. Unexpected anger filled you as you closed your front door. Was it better or worse that you had discovered you were a lesbian when dating him instead of a good guy? “Oh honey!” your mother started, catching a glimpse of your expression from the kitchen table. “Did you and Robert fight again?” The familiarity of her thinking you and Robert fought again had your heart plummeting. There was thinly veiled ‘Is Robert mad at you again?’ under her question.

You weakly shook your head. “No ma’am, I'm okay…just tired.” A comforting smile appeared on your mother’s face as she beckoned you over. “Come here, sweetheart.” Compliantly, you walked closer to her and leaned down to feel her hand on your cheek. Something was bothering you, she could see that much. “I’m so proud of you.” Immediately you wanted to spill everything. You wanted her to hold you like you were a little girl again and have her tell you that everything would be okay. Suddenly you became aware that you were mourning the future you were guaranteed from a kid. It was a piece of yourself that you lost, but you were also gaining another piece of yourself. Bittersweet. 

You wanted her to love this new part of yourself as much as she loved every other piece of you. She pressed her lips to the crown of her head like she could read your mind. She was trying her best to solve your troubles with how she knew too. “I love you, my sweet baby girl.” Tears stung at the backs of your closing eyes. “I love you,” you wanted to whisper back, instead staying quiet out of fear of what you might admit. She nodded in time with you with a sweet laugh. “Now go clean up and knock them dead.” Your mother looked up from where she sat and winked at you as you went round the corner. “Those boys won’t know what hit them!” 

But they were never who you wanted. How could you tell someone that when they’ve known you as a different person your whole life? You knew your mom wouldn't hesitate to die for you, that’s what you chose to hang onto as you headed for the shower you hoped would wash away your anxiety. She still loved you. Unbeknownst to you, she would never jeopardize that love. You were her child forever.

The shower had washed away some of your stress of the day, renewing you to a point that you could go out. That’s how you found yourself working your pants over your hips, doing little hops to slide the denim on. After the small workout, you huffed and threw things out of your closet to get a shirt. By the time a tornado looked like it had passed through your room, you resorted to digging through your basket of clean clothes, grabbing a cropped jersey Robert had given you. A thought nagged the back of your brain saying not to wear it because it was his, but you threw it on anyway. It was cute and would fit the vibe of the party.

It was a simple outfit but there was no way you were trying to woo anybody tonight. Hopefully, it would ward people off from talking to you. You didn't even want to woo Robert. A thought for a later date. Checking your alarm clock you realized it was an hour till the party with no sign of Robert. Your gut yelled at you to call him. Fuck you wished you didn’t have to. What if you walked? In that case, he could show up and wonder why you ignored him, or he could try to pick you up after you had already left the house. It left too many questions without answers.

Regrettably, calling him was the best option for transportation. You were not in a family who could spare your unlicensed person driving their car around. Stepping out of your bedroom you were met with silence. The house was empty aside from you padding to the landline in the kitchen. A note was left on the refrigerator reminding you of your parents' date night. Nerves nipped at you as you swiped your sweaty palms down your thighs and forced yourself to dial his number.

One, two, three, four rings later, “Hello?” Your teeth sink into the tip of your thumbnail. Yup, he sounded mad. “Hey, Rob!” You tried to chirp, voice unnaturally high. “Oh, are you talking to me now?” “What? I thought we were going to the party tonight…aren’t you coming to get me?” Robert being mad at you was a more than common occurrence. This was one of the more uncommon times when you had done something. “I thought you were mad at me.” he deadpanned, “No note. No warning. You were gone. What was I supposed to think? It’s embarrassing! Do you know how embarrassing that is?” He pressed on.

You fought off a sigh in response, trying to muster up a kinder retort. “I’m sorry Rob, seriously. I’ll make it up to you at the party. …I promise.” he sighed heavily, voice becoming soft again. “I don't think I can drive somebody who acts like that. Will I see you there?” Great. Great, great, great. Robert clicked his tongue sympathetically, acting as if it hurt him as much as he expected it to hurt you.

You didn’t dare ask if he was driving you again. “Yeah. See you then, I guess.” Dejection was far from your tone yet Robert failed to take a hint. “I’m sorry.” His apology fell flat. You couldn't bring yourself to be upset at his roundabout breakup. The dial tone answered him as you slammed the phone back on the receiver. 

So much for having a ride. 

Figuring out a last-minute ride should not have been as difficult as it was. Apparently, when you drop off the face of the earth for a few days after graduation everyone thinks you’ve left them to die. Thankfully Tina had her convertible detailed on Wednesday and was more than happy to show it off. A little sucking up and a vague explanation later you had a brand new ride who was trying to get you to shove it in Robert’s face that you didn’t need him. And what better way to do that than driving you to the party?

Initially, you didn’t intend to get this far into things. Maybe a small catch-up chat and a shot to appease her, but it seemed Tina’s personal mission was to get you hammered. It was all she talked about on the drive over. The cool night air hit your skin as you stepped out of Tina's convertible, the engine purring below you. Music and laughter were already spilling out from the open windows. Tina looped her arm through yours, “Come on, let's show that loser Robert what he's missing!”

You smiled back at her, allowing yourself to be swept up by her. “Lead the way,” you replied, playing along. The two of you pushed through the people congregating on the front lawn. Tina's grip on your arm tightened as she guided you through the chaos, her eyes alight with a determined gleam. “There’s the keg over there!” Tina exclaimed and pointed towards the driveway. 

“That sounds amazing, Tina,” you spoke, raising your voice above the chaos. “Just give me a moment? I'm going to...powder my nose.” You punctuated your statement with a conspiratorial wink, knowing full well that Tina assumed you had somebody to go meet up with. Tina giggled and winked back, “Hurry up then! Don’t keep him waiting!” She waved and happily drifted towards some girls she recognized by the keg, leaving you to navigate your way.

Dodging a stumbling partygoer who barreled past you and out the front door, you twisted around and made your way backward into the living room. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and drinks, a stereo somewhere playing loud music reverberating through the floorboards as bodies danced where a coffee table once stood. A part of you couldn't help but scan the crowd, a lingering instinct to locate Robert. You rolled your jaw, determined to stomp out that fleeting desire.

Your gaze drifted towards the kitchen, and you figured a quick detour for refreshments was in order. Unaware of prying eyes, you hugged the wall, slipping into the relative sanctuary of the kitchen. Finally, a moment to catch your breath and collect your thoughts amidst the chaotic revelry.  A familiar face was standing in the kitchen, but they were no one there that you knew well enough. Nowhere near the level of recognition you held for the person who was watching you back.

Robin’s eyes stayed trained on you, having seen you the moment you had walked through the front door. Technically since someone pushed past you to get outside. She was sitting on a pushed-back couch with Steve. Normally he would find somebody to flirt with, yet here he sat debating who would be fit for Robin. His whispers fell on deaf ears, rubbing his chin with one hand. “I swear she’s not straight. Did you know she used to…” Robin’s harsh whisper drowned out the rest of his sentence, “Steve.” His brown eyes flicked to her. “Shit was that bad to say?” 

“Steve.” Steve finally took the suggestion and looked up to see you. His eyes widened while he watched you open a bottle and pour some liquid into the cup. Robin’s surprise came at the fact that you weren’t hanging over Robert. That wasn’t completely the jealousy talking. If you showed up at a party you tended to stay by his side the whole time. Whether it was to keep other men away from you or because you liked Robert that much, it also kept Robin at bay from thinking of trying to talk to you. Here you were now, looking unfocused, almost worried before chugging the alcohol.

“You should talk to her.” Steve started. He saw the look in Robin’s eye knowing there was no way around it. “What!? No! Steve, that goes against everything we’re doing tonight!” He knew that more than anyone else, of course, he did. There was no reason for Robin to go back on her word, other than the fact that she was obviously in love with you.

“Look, one conversation. Then you’ll know for sure that you can move on.” Steve reached over, shaking Robin’s shoulder softly to encourage her towards you. “Never know if you don’t try.” Swallowing her fear, Robin admonished Steve. “Remind me to never listen to you ever again dingus. No more plan-making for you.” “And yet you’re walking towards her.” Robin rolled her eyes, walking backward to you.

Once Robin deemed she was almost close enough she turned around to see your spot in the kitchen empty. Her baby blues scanned the house, spotting you heading to the backyard. After seeing you just out of reach she knew she had to speak to you for better or for worse. Robin sped up, pushing through to get to the back door. She could see your rapidly disappearing frame, focusing on how you moved. The wood creaked on the hinges, shutting in front of her face. Being so close to you she suddenly couldn’t bring herself to open the door.

She was being dumb, she knew it. It was one conversation. What harm could it do? Pacing in front of the door Robin barely had enough time to jump out of the way when it swung open. “Shit- sorry!” She called out, stumbling backward out the door. If anything it was the stranger's fault for slamming the door open, that’s what you thought at least. “Robin?”

Time instantly slowed as your quiet voice called her name. She slowly turned towards you, her movements making it seem like she was in doubt if this were truly happening. An awkward smile tugged at the corner of her lips when she caught sight of you sitting on the edge of the porch. The porch light basked you in its soft glow, contrasting the bright moonlight that hit the yard. “Hey..didn't uh see you there,” she offered hesitantly. Robin knew you would be out here, but actually speaking to you made it seem way more real. 

“Oh, I thought you were following me.” Robin’s face fell at the blunt statement, her composed facade cracking. “Huh!?” She squawked, the sound escaping her before she could stop it. Her eyes snapped to your face to search it, honing in on the cigarette you pressed to your lips. Not responding right away, a charged silence blanketed you. The only reprieve was the clicking of your lighter that pierced the air, flame roaring to life to light the smoke.

If this was to be the last time she spent in your company, Robin didn't want it to end like that. With a determined set to her jaw, she moved to plop down onto the edge of the porch beside you, swinging her legs over the side inelegantly. You wordlessly tilted your head back, exhaling your smoke away from her, a small gesture that did not go unnoticed. “I didn't know you smoked,” Robin ventured, her gaze transfixed by the way your lips wrapped around the cigarette, pursing and parting with each inhale and exhale.

“Oh yeah, new habit I guess,” you replied nonchalantly, as if the habit were no more remarkable than a new hairstyle. Robin nodded, her eyes trailing over you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “Are you-” she began, only to be cut off as you simultaneously attempted to speak. “Do you think-” Your voices overlapped, the words tangling together in a mess. Robin felt her cheeks warm.

“You can go first,” you mumbled, ducking your head in an effort to hide the amused smile that threatened to spread across your features. “Um…” Robin nodded, turning her gaze forward once more as she gathered her thoughts. “What are you doing here without...?” Her voice trailed off as she realized, with discomfort, that she had completely forgotten the name of your boyfriend. She had heard it mentioned once, she was certain, but the name eluded her. It started with an R, didn't it? “Robert,” you filled the gap for her. “Yeah, him!”

You winced visibly at the mention of his name. Lifting a hand to scratch the back of your neck, the cigarette dangling precariously from your taught lips, you hesitated for a moment. “You don't have to answer if you don't want to,” Robin added quickly, noticing you were weighing your words. “No, it's fine,” you assured her, waving off her concern. “We're on a break, I guess? He's pissed at something I did this morning.” 

Robin sat up straighter, her curiosity piqued by your cryptic confession. “Oh shit. What'd you do?” Plucking the cigarette from your lips, you took a deep breath of clean air. “I sort of ditched him before he woke up. Ran out of his house... the whole shebang.” As the words left your mouth, you couldn't help but realize how callous they sounded. Robin, however, seemed unfazed by the revelation, barking out a laugh that seemed to echo in the quiet night. 

“What!? Why?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with disbelief and amusement. “So many questions,” you teased, unable to resist the urge to deflect, if only momentarily. Robin shook her head, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. It was a known fact that she often pressed for more information. You gave a resigned shrug, not knowing why you found yourself spilling your guts to your old friend who you had barely shared a conversation with in over a year. There was something about her presence, something undeniably safe, that compelled you to open up in a way you hadn't with anyone else.

“Guess I realized something.” Robin knew better than to interrupt now, well versed with the pause you gave before fully voicing the thoughts on your mind. “I don't think he's the one," you admitted at last. Something about the need for clarity had you stubbing your cigarette out. Robin sucked in a sharp breath, her expression one of sympathy. “If it helps, I don't think anyone meets 'the one' in high school,” she spoke matter-of-factly as if stating an indisputable truth. “Plus, that's a dumb reason for him to break up with you.”

“Maybe,” you muttered in response, your voice laced with a heaviness that suggested there was more to the story. “For what it's worth, I'm sorry,” Robin continued, her words laden with sincerity. “You deserve better than that.” She knew you did. You deserved better than all the shitty boyfriends you had put up with. Turning to face her fully, you met her gaze with a look of self-doubt. “Don't know if I do. I kind of fucked up, big time.”

The guilt of having dated and potentially hurt a string of boys while unaware that you were unable to love them formed a lump in your throat. You had only just come to terms with the fact that you might have been a lesbian earlier that morning, but hadn't there been signs all along? Little hints you had chosen to ignore in favor of conforming to societal expectations? You truly did empathize with their feelings, holding the weight of your actions on your shoulders.

“Good people fuck up sometimes,” Robin stated effortlessly. The resolution she offered was so simple. “We're still young, we're going to make mistakes,” she continued. And you would. None of it had been malicious. Of course, Robin would be the one able to slow down your racing mind. You couldn't help but marvel at the depth of her understanding and how she cut through the tangled web of your thoughts with such ease.

“When did you become so wise?” You quipped. “I always have been,” Robin shot back with a sly smile. “You were just too busy being charmed by me to realize.” For a heartbeat, Robin froze, uncertain whether her joke had landed or if she had overstepped a boundary. Then your laughter met her ears, shattering her worry. “Hm. makes sense,” you conceded.

Robin sighed out in relief, your head tilting to rest on her shoulder. She slowly met your head with her own, leaning on top of yours. In the dim lighting, you looked at her feet swinging side by side with yours. Studying the familiar scribbles on her shoes made you feel so comforted. This was just Robin, sweet Robin who held your hands when you were scared to make leaps of faith. A leap of faith. That’s all it was.

“I guess I’m interested in other people.” Robin’s eyebrows furrowed curiously. Taking the moment you confessed before doubt could creep up your spine. “I don't think men are the ones for me.” All the oxygen exited Robin's lungs, however, she clamped her mouth shut, trying to remain cool. “I don’t think they are for me either.” She responded faintly. 

“Right? I get it, I do, I mean not really but..” you rambled on, taking a note from Robin’s book. “I feel bad because I dated so many guys. I can’t imagine how they felt when I couldn't give them what they needed.” Robin scoffed in return.  “Please, they sucked. They were practically sewer monsters! They’ll get over it,” Robin stated resolutely. You didn’t need to be hung up on boys like that. You laughed at her claim. “Yeah, they're gross.” You agreed. 

Talking to her again you realized how easy it was and how much you missed this. “I’m so tired of having to like what they like, do what they do, live in their world!” You huffed and glared up at the sky for an answer to your troubles. “I'm proud of you.” Robin blurted out to your surprise. “You’re proud of me?” 

Robin didn’t say many things that shocked you into a stupor anymore, but that was certainly one of them. “Yeah. You’ve kind of become super confident.” “Not at all. I’m still scared,” you exhaled regretfully at your admission. “You can be scared and still be self-assured. You’re like..on the right path, you know?” You blinked in amazement at her awareness. “Robin you are fucking amazing.” At your compliment, it was now her turn to be taken aback. “Oh- thank you.” She coughed with wide eyes. 

The connection both of you tried to shove down for so long sparked the moment your eyes locked. In that instant, the world faded away, neither of you caring that anyone could peer through the backdoor. As you gazed into her eyes, it felt as if her soul was laid bare in front of you. “Can I?” you asked, voice filled with longing. “Please,” she responded. With her confirmation, both of you moved forward eagerly, lips colliding. However, a second later a pang of pain quickly interrupted the blissful encounter, causing you both to recoil.

“Ow!” Robin hissed, pressing her hand to her mouth, her inner lips inadvertently having met her teeth. “Oh shit!” you exclaimed, scrambling onto your knees to be closer to her. Gently, you removed her hand, anxiously inspecting her. “I am so sorry. Are you bleeding?”

Your eyes snapped to Robin’s when she failed to respond. Her hand slid across your cheek much like it had the first time years ago. Hiccuped giggles fell from her lips when she edged closer to you. Taking the hint, you followed suit to gently press your lips together. This is what you were looking for. You understood why you had looked for her in other people for so long. You yearned for her.

Robin’s fingers trailed along your skin leaving tingles in their wake. Her hands slowly slid down, one coming to rest on the small of your back with the other holding onto your waist. She was desperate to eliminate any distance between your bodies, pulling you towards her like you were her lifeline. When the need for oxygen became too great to ignore, Robin reluctantly parted from your lips. A soft “Woah” escaped her in a breathless whisper. 

“Uh huh, woah,” you mumbled in agreement, blinking as you emerged from your trance. As your senses slowly returned, you turned to face each other, eyes meeting in a shared look of awe. The tension that had been building between you both for so long had finally been released, and the intensity of it left you both giddy with exhilaration. Unable to contain yourselves any longer, you burst into unrestrained laughter, echoing the pure joy you felt in that moment.

“Holy shit!” you exclaimed happily. Without a plan or a second thought, you jumped up and grabbed Robin's hand, pulling her up with you. “Let's go,” you said, the words tumbling out in your excitement. Robin's eyes widened at your sudden burst of energy. “What?” she asked. Despite her question she gratefully let you help her up and tug her towards the stairs. “Let's ditch!” you clarified. Robin took one look at the gleam in your eyes and she nodded rapidly, a matching grin spreading across her face as she raced down the stairs with you.

Her grip on your hand tethered you to her as she rounded the corner of the house at a breakneck pace. You stumbled after her, laughing breathlessly, the two of you surely a sight to behold. Anyone would take a look at the two of you and assume you were drunk.

As you burst into the front yard, Steve caught sight of you while he stood on the lawn. His expression grew into one of bemusement as he watched the two of you race past. He beamed at you both, your laughter infectious as you ran down the neighborhood street with no destination in mind. You were in love and it was pure.

Steve placed his hands on his hips, chest bursting with pride. As he watched you disappear he turned back to the shorter figure in front of him. His once soft eyes now held a glint and a not-so-innocent smile. “You’re Robert? Right?” 

taglist: @andvys

[selineram3421]

*finally has a day off* Fucking hell.

I'll Be Here

Previous: Coming Apart

Human Alastor X Human Reader Oneshot

Warnings ⚠

⚠ she/they for reader, italics = thoughts, blood, mentions of stalking, shaking head = no, mentions of near death, fluff ⚠

"While in your sleep.."

You started in your journal entries.

You've been writing in a journal for your fiance to read when he does eventually wake up.

It's been a few days since the incident. The local paper had printed out most of what happened but you asked to keep your names out of it and they were respectful enough to listen.

You finally learned what your stalker's name was and how many other women he had gone after. You were glad it was finally over and that he couldn't hurt anyone else now.

The night Alastor was admitted, you were so worried about him and rushed to ask the doctors why he wasn't waking up. They reassured you, saying it was quite normal and that he would wake up soon once he was well enough.

You stayed by his side most of the time.

Knowing better than to leave yourself uncared for while taking care of him.

Brushing his hair, cleaning his teeth, and overall just making sure he was comfortable while he slept.

Whenever your thoughts became too much, you'd clean his glasses or listen to his past recorded Radio shows.

Now, you've finished writing about what happened last night in the journal, sitting near his bedside in one of the chairs provided.

Putting away the light brown book in your bag before letting out a sigh and crossing your arms, resting your upper body on the bed as you stare at your love's sleeping face.

You missed him.

You know he's just resting but you still miss him.

Brushing a strand of hair away from his face, you let out another sigh.

I'll have to eat breakfast soon.. You thought and continued to run your fingers through his hair. Maybe I can just get a sandwich or something from the liquor store across the street.

Taking a glance at the window, you see that it's raining.

It's been raining since last night. You woke up to a loud clap or thunder and thought it woke Alastor up too. But he was still sleeping when you turned to look.

You shifted a bit to get comfortable, still playing with strands of his hair.

"You might be dreaming right now for all I know..", you mumbled, moving your hand to hold his. "I'll take a nap and dream with you for a bit."

Slowly, you felt yourself drift off into sleep.

.

At first you saw Alastor covered in gashes and blood.

With a shout, you ran over to him, but when you blinked he was fine.

He smiled at you and pulled you into a hug.

God did you miss his hugs.

You practically melted in his arms as you hugged him back. The warmth and comfort the hug was providing was something you needed. His arms around your waist, squeezing you with just the right amount of tightness before relaxing.

He was mumbling something in French but it was hard to pick out.

You were just happy to be with him.

"Ma amour." (My love.)

.

You felt yourself wake up to soft humming and someone gently rubbing your head.

Still feeling sleepy, you stayed put. But then you realized that no one comes into the room without knocking. Quickly, you sat up and found him awake.

Smiling gently, looking at you with a soft gaze.

"Alastor..", you said in a whisper, a bit scared that this wasn't real.

He just continued to smile and said your name. "Good morning.", he greeted and wiped away a tear running down your cheek. "I hope I didn't worry you too much this time."

"Alastor.", you felt more tears build up before you carefully reached over and held him close, being mindful with his injuries. "I missed you so much."

"Missed me?", he let out a soft chuckle. "I didn't go anywhere."

All you did was shake your head and kiss his forehead.

"I'll go get the nurse, have them check on you and-", you let go and went to stand.

"Wait.", he tugged your shirt. "I..I missed you too."

Confused, you sat back down and let him pull you close, wrapping his arms around you. "I thought you said you didn't go anywhere?", you hugged him back.

"Hmm.. I was still here.", he nodded. "But I couldn't hold you."

What did he mean by that?

"She likes you by the way.", he mumbled, burying his face into your shoulder.

"She?", you asked, even more confused.

"My mother."

Then it clicked.

Alastor was on the brink of death. Not only that, he got to see his mother again. But he stayed around.

"Told me not to keep you waiting and to hurry up before some male nurse tried to hit on you.", he said and chuckled.

"I would never acknowledge them.", you replied and pecked his lips. "For they have perceived me with their eyes but you have met me in depth."

"I love you beyond time."

"I love you more."

*brain, saying I have to write more human Alastor* You know what? You're right.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @big-brother-problems @mistpurpl3 @chewbrryarts @willowbrookhoot @briethekitsune @alastorthirsty @sir-aadiboii @+?

ML II Alastor🎙️

[barnesafterglow]

night shift

summary: your growing fame becomes too much for bucky

pairing: actor!bucky barnes x singer!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: fame au, dual pov, unreliable narrators, idk how the grammys work (clearly), angst angst angst, steve is a good friend, bucky is Going Thru It, if you think this is joe + taylor coded you're prob right, directly inspired by night shift by lucy dacus

a/n: yearly fic, dedicated to new lovers

masterlist - i no longer have a tag list but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary to get updates! 🤍

You shoved him off of you, heart racing, breaths coming fast. You had said Bucky’s name, had whispered it in your most intimate moment, and now you needed to leave.

You said nothing else, gathering up your clothes and pulling them on as quickly as you could.

“Wha-”

The door slammed behind you, cold winter winds whipping around you as you realized you’d left your jacket on the hook by the door. It was your favorite, but one you were okay sacrificing as long as you didn’t have to face your embarrassment anymore.

Huffing a breath you could see in front of your face, you called an Uber - at least you had remembered your phone - and paced anxiously a block away from his building, hoping and praying he wouldn’t follow you out.

The entire ride home your mind spiraled until you turned off your phone, terrified this would make headlines already and, let’s be honest, no one would be surprised if it did. You hated that was the life you lived. As if your breakup with Bucky hadn’t already been tabloid fodder for weeks now, the public speculating every detail and warping every comment and photo posted. You had taken to keeping off social media altogether in the time since, trying to disguise your outings as much as possible and take back alleys to recordings and friends’ houses.

Your biggest supporter through all of this, surprisingly, had been Steve - Bucky’s best friend. He hadn’t been your friend first, sure, but he had become like a brother to you nonetheless, and he knew the situation better than anyone. You knew he still talked to Bucky just the same and, while that stung a little, you couldn’t fault him for being there for his childhood best friend too.

Which is how you ended up outside his apartment the very next morning, clad in your typical-as-of-late attire of a hoodie and a hat and sunglasses. It was also how you came face to face with Bucky for the first time since that fateful night.

“I didn’t come to sit here and watch you stare at your feet, James.” You stood from his couch, starting to seethe with pent up anger from your gradually failing relationship, all to end up here. What did he want? To absolve his guilt and shake hands and everything would be fine?

No. You had been the victim of his petty remarks and anxious jealousy for so long. You wouldn’t let him think he deserved your time when he didn’t respect the person you had become. 

Your anger flashed back to the week before, the last time you had been seen out in public together as he was breaking up with you at your favorite coffee shop, where he had paid for your drink and you gave him a hesitant kiss, even though you knew it was inevitably coming. He had led you to a table in the corner and proceeded to tell you that he was sorry but he couldn’t do this anymore, it was too much for him - you were too much for him. Okay. That’s all you said was “okay” before you pushed out of the chair and walked around the city until the sun went down.

By the time you got home that night, the headlines were already speculating your breakup, though neither of you had yet to shed a single tear.

-

Bucky blinked as you shuffled on Steve’s doorstep, eyes wide and contemplating the quickest escape. He didn’t blame you.

He had admittedly not handled your breakup the best; in fact, he regretted it almost immediately at the stricken look on your face, clearly not expecting it. He didn’t blame you for that, either, seeing as it had slipped out in a moment of panic.

You had gained a lot of fame over the course of your relationship, even more than him, and he didn’t quite know how to cope with it. And so the words had poured out, unable to be taken back, and here you were, weeks later, still at odds.

He thought every night of how to make it up to you. Public displays weren’t your thing and you had blocked his number the night of your big fight, so that was out of the question, and he didn’t fancy showing up to your house only to have the door slammed in his face either.

But now, now maybe that you were here on the most neutral ground you could stand on, maybe he could keep his foot out of his mouth and apologize. Words stirred in his hindsight, unable to string together a coherent sentence as your face morphed through the stages of grief in record time. Then, just as he was about to speak, Steve placed a hand on his shoulder and gently guided him back into the house. Relief flooded your face as you drifted out of his sight, and he realized this probably wasn’t going to be as easy to take back as he thought.

“Buck,” Steve said as the two of them turned around the corner. “You need to leave.”

Bucky felt his face do something awful, a mixture of confusion and guilt, but he decided to keep his mouth shut. He simply nodded and kept his head down as he shrugged on his jacket and passed by you in the doorway.

He could hear the soft sound of your sobs as the front door clicked shut.

-

Songwriting could be as easy as breathing and as hard as climbing a mountain. Right now, the words flooded out of you like a tap of water.

And so did the tears, staining your notebook paper and smearing ink, but still in your heart you knew you would never forget these lyrics - these words that so painstakingly came from your soul and laid it bare.

As you finished the last verse, you took a deep breath, sucked up the tears, and called Natasha. 

-

“Steve, I need to talk to her,” Bucky whined over a beer in a rundown bar in Brooklyn.

“No, you don’t.”

“I can fix it, I know I can.”

“I don’t think you can, Buck.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving his lips. “She’s trying to move on. Don’t ruin that for her.”

“But-”

“No.”

Bucky mimicked Steve’s sigh and leaned back in his chair. It had been increasingly hard to justify his decision to end things with you. He didn’t know what he was thinking and he regretted every moment of it since then. 

“Do you think she misses me?” Bucky looked so hopeful, but he could see the sorrow in Steve’s eyes.

“I don’t know.”

-

The Grammys, the fucking Grammys, and you were performing. You were nominated for a couple, and the Academy had asked you to sing - preferably a new song - in honor of that.

Natasha wrapped you in a hug, twirled you around, and announced you were going out to celebrate. You hesitantly said yes, knowing the press would be everywhere and there was always the possibility of seeing Bucky.

But fuck him. This was your moment.

Which is how you ended up at your favorite dive bar in Brooklyn. Your first mistake.

It was your favorite because Bucky had taken you there so many times. But you couldn’t think of another place you would celebrate than the place where so much inspiration and so many lyrics had come from.

You didn’t scan the room as you walked in with your hand clutching Nat’s, the rest of your small circle of friends following close behind. Your second mistake.

Walking straight to the bar, you didn’t notice Bucky in the far corner, watching your every move. It wasn’t until you were a few drinks in, feeling the celebration kick in, that you spotted him.

At first, you intended to ignore him. This was your time, your night, your moment. He didn’t get the spoil that.

That is, until you went to the bathroom and he trailed you into the dimly lit hallway.

“Baby,” he whispered, his voice a harsh rasp of beer and no sleep. “I’ve missed you.”

Your heart stopped beating in your chest.

You weren’t prepared to see him tonight, not that you ever were these days. But tonight of all nights, the one that should have been carefree and fun and a glittery memory for years to come, was smeared with anger and heartbreak as you spun to face him.

“What the fuck,” you snapped as his fingers grazed your bare arm. Immediately you felt bad, seeing the hurt on his face, and your expression softened. “Sorry.”

“I-it’s okay.” The catch in his voice broke your heart, your own watery eyes matching his. For just a moment.

It took you too long to come to your senses - this was the man who had shattered your heart without a second thought - but he was already so close to you. His body only inches from your own, his hot breath fanning your face, and goddamnit you missed him. You missed him so much that your heart broke all over again.

Your mind cycled through a thousand different thoughts all at once: get away, come closer, touch me, keep your hands off. You couldn’t decide what you wanted in the moment.

You were so, so angry, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to him. His hands settled on your waist as the lights overhead flickered. Your hand pressed gently to his cheek, completely of its own volition. Suddenly, you were tracing the planes of the face you had once known so well. He looked older now, like your time apart had aged him, yet his was still as handsome as the day you had first laid eyes on him.

His eyes locked with yours, and neither of you said a word - not him to ask, not you to stop him - as he leaned in to kiss you.

-

It should have felt like a victory - it did feel like a victory - but there was something else there. Something dark and twisted and Bucky couldn’t figure out if it was coming from you or him.

The kiss could have lasted moments or a lifetime, he didn’t really know. All he knew was one second you were holding him close to you and the next you were shoving him off.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” your voice came out in a whisper, like you didn’t want to draw attention from the steadily growing crowd of the bar. He supposed you didn’t.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” You nodded at his words, your fingers pressed to your lips like you could still feel him there. “I’ll just go.”

You nodded again, your eyes vacant, and he made his way back to the main room of the bar. He looked back in time to see you slump against the wall, and he knew that you were thinking of a way to erase any trace of him on you.

-

The stage lights came on, you strummed your guitar and started to sing.

The first time I tasted somebody else’s spit, I had a coughing fit.

You let the lyrics you poured your heart into spill out across the stage. Still, somehow - in the crowd of hundreds of faces - you spotted Bucky.

This time, it didn’t make your heart clench. Didn’t make you shed a tear or run away.

No. This time, it empowered you. Let him hear the lyrics he inspired. Let him feel that pain of your words and feel the hole in your heart where he had broken it. Where you were now healing.

-

Bucky watched as you sang, and you were mesmerizing. He could feel the echoes of hurt in your words, the hole in your heart he had put there. He knew, despite the last time he saw you, that there was no making up. There was no fixing what was well beyond broken. No chance for him.

In five years I hope the songs feel like covers,

Dedicated to new lovers.