#and then that whole weekend after I was completely fucked I couldn’t Do Anything

[prettyboykatsuki]

call it quits or call it destiny | h. umemiya.

✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader(she/her pronouns, referred to as a girl, gets dressed up by tsubaki and kotoha), reader gets their hair braided (no desc of texture) and puts on makeup, lore heavy reader backstory + personality, deliquent!reader, gap moe, best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, themes of insecurity, mutual pining,the use of she/her for tsubaki, jealousy, confessions, loss of virginity, creampies / unprotected sex, oral (f!recieving), fingering, 18+

✮ wc ; 13.9k (dont. don't say anything)

✮ a/n ; me when i completely lose my mind because i have a weekend off. whats wrong with me.

anyways. there's no major triggers for this but be forewarned reader is meant to be very rag-tag deliquent type. she has a strong personality and generally is not feminine. she is like a mangy street cat a bit. also if u want u should listen to easily by bruno major while reading.

✮ synopsis ; you've been quietly pining for umemiya for a little over ten years with no plans of confessing.

you did not have a plan for what you would do if umemiya confessed to you first.

Once a day, everyday - Umemiya will come into your store, pause, smile, and confess his love to you before going off on his own.  

And once a day, everyday, you reject this confession with a soft huff  telling him to quit being stupid before shooing him away.  

It's become a ritual. A fixture in your daily routine that you're not allowed to ignore despite how hard you're trying.  

He's been doing it for three months, more or less. 

His reason for confessing everyday? Because he’s waiting on the day you confess back, of course. Which you've refused to do for the last few months and will continue to refuse for as long as you’ve got.  

It's not because you don't like him, alright? 

You've known Umemiya since middle school and you've liked him for about the same time. One of the core memories of your childhood is the day you met him, crying while sitting on a  swing-set, after what felt like the worst day of your life. 

( On the day you run away from home, you seriously consider not going back.  

You don’t really know how long you sit there. People walk by but most of them move on quickly. It’s mid-day before anyone bothers to stop and ask you something.  

 "I've never seen you around  before.” A strange looking boy approaches, friendly and unassuming but not entirely cheerful “Did you just move here?"  

You keep quiet, closing your eyes and hoping your lack of response is enough to push him away. Your hope fizzles out when you hear the swing creak as he sits besides you. 

"I'm Umemiya Hajime. I live close by." His voice is airy and causal. "I'm sorry you're having a bad day.”  

"Fuck off," You reply bluntly, frowning. “I don’t need sympathy. Leave me the hell alone.”  

He pauses before pushing himself slightly forward to barely swing.  

“I couldn’t leave you alone while you’re sad,” He voices willfully. "It might make you feel better to talk about it." 

In disbelief at his response, you finally look up and asses him properly. It doesn’t do much to change your initial unfavorable impression. White hair, blue eyes and a little taller than you. You’re definitely about the same age. All of that to say, there’s something weird about him that you can’t quite place.  

Despite his manner and way of speaking though, you don’t actually think he’s that weak which makes his whole aura even more unnerving to you. His attempt at being non-threatening doesn’t work for him. He’s being a real try-hard about trying to make you comfortable… 

Either way, he’s got an air about him that puts you on the defensive.  

 Talking to someone about it had never been much of any option, and somehow it pisses you off that he’s being so brazen about it.  

Maybe if you tell him about, he’ll stop prying into your business. Or maybe you’re just looking for excuses to let off steam. 

You don't care anymore. You wipe your nose with the back of your sleeve.  

"I don't live here and I didn’t move. I ran away." You reply.  

He keeps looking at you, curious, inquisitive and sympathetic.  

"Why?"   

"I broke a girls nose." You scowl. The words rise up in your throat like bile. Make you feel cornered. The wounds too fresh. "It—she bullied me for years for one. And I never fought back, it was all petty bullshit anyway and I didn't like getting calls home. I didn't care about that but she—it wasn't for nothing. She was causing trouble for Sensei."  

Umemiya keeps to himself, humming in response to your troubles. Your voice breaks on your next sentence, chest tightening.  

"It doesn't matter what she does to me but—" Your hands ball up at your first. Your throat feels thick, eyes suddenly watering as your chest throbs . "Anyway, I couldn’t let it go like normal."  

He hums. "So you hit her?" 

You shake your head, sniffling. "Not at first. Just told her to shut up. Said that she didn't know what she was talking about. She hit me first..." You screw your eyes shut, sighing. "...said she was gonna spread rumors about him just trying to get under my skin and be malicious,” You lean back slightly and look up towards the gray sky. “I punched her after that."  

You realize he's looking at your bloodied knuckles, but he isn't making an expression that you can read easily. You don’t remember the last time you spoke to someone like this who wasn’t Tsukimori-sensei.  

"Are you crying because you got in trouble?"  

“Who cares about that?” You sigh “Sensei had to put his job on the line and take responsibility for me,” Your brow furrows in frustration. “He’s the one person I don’t want to cause trouble for,” You grip the iron chains of the swing set with a closed fist and finally admit what you’ve been avoiding to say out loud. “I don’t want him to hate me…”  

The kid besides you smiles  absently at your words. Half-way between listening and recalling something else, it seems like. You can’t help but wonder what the hell his deal is. You barely know him but you’re spilling your guts. 

He speaks after a long while. "I don't think he sees it that way. I think you should try to talk to him about it."  

You make a face, rejecting the idea. "What? No way." 

Umemiya shrugs, smiling - though it doesn't quite meet his eyes.  

"He sounds like he cares about you. If he knew your reasons, there's no way he would hold it against you. And it’s important to share your burdens with people who care for you." You look over and see him smiling somberly at the mulch beneath his shoes before returning back to what you’ve grown to know as his usual self. "Anyways, I think we should be friends. Tell me your name."  

You sniffle again. What a weird guy. Well you say that but 

You still give him your name. 

"What a pretty name," 

When you tell him to shut up again, your new friend Umemiya just laughs.  

And you find you feel just a little bit lighter.)  

That night, Umemiya walked with you to take the last train and told you to come see him again  with good news. 

You aren't sure what compelled you to follow his advice. Maybe because he was the first person who sat down and listened to you about it other than Sensei himself. 

Tsukimori-sensei was your school counselor and the only adult in your entire life that seemed to worry about. You didn't have any friends in middle school and you were a scary looking delinquent girl without a mother and a mostly absent father.  

But Sensei was always incredible gentle to you and incredibly kind. And despite what rumors that girl tried to spread  - he was never anything more than an important mentor.  

It was fucking embarrassing crying in front of him but because you were honest - you got to keep in touch with him. He attended your middle school and high school graduation - supporting you as you started to sort your life out. Became the closest thing you ever really got to a parental figure.  

Over time, you got close with Umemiya and developed strong loyalty to him. You attended an all-girls middle and high school the next town over - totaling one other friend in all six years of your remaining education. Lack of socialization meant that Umemiya somewhat became the very center of your existence. 

It was easy to visit him thanks to parental neglect. You sort of melted into his life. Tsubaki once called you his guard dog as a half-joke, but there's some truth to the sentiment. Quick to defend, quick to heel, and always happy to see him.  

You, like many people, owe Umemiya a lot. His meddling over the course of ten years gave you reason to push forward. He even encouraged you to try and attend school and not give up on living a half-decent life. 

You've got a never-ending list of short-comings but being with him didn't make you hate yourself. It made you want to be better because you knew Umemiya would accept you for whoever you decided to be.  

So despite your delinquency, you managed to graduate high school. Post-graduation, you attended a vocational culinary school and became a patisserie before moving to Furin for permanent residency. You opened a bakery and supply bread to Kotoha-chans diner.  

You made something of your life mostly 'cause of Umemiya. He's not your only friend anymore but he's still your best. Even though you never really pictured things like dating or romance - in some way it only makes sense that it'd be that meddling, kind-hearted idiot that you end up falling for it.  

Lovesickness aside, you respect Umemiya more than anyone in your personal life.  

He’s stuck around with someone like you this long after all. That means a lot to you.  

Somehow the two of you mesh well despite being totally opposite.  

You decided as soon as you realized it sometime in high school that you'd keep your feelings a secret for the rest of your life. You had a strong resolve in your beliefs about the whole thing which made it easy. You hid 'em so well even Sakura's stupid accurate romance detector didn't uncover them.  

When you picture Umemiya's future - it was easy to picture the kind of woman he would end up with. Another kind-hearted idiot like him, a social butterfly. Someone a little softer.  

In any case it definitely was not you. You didn't need it to be. You've received so much from him already, you never entertained the idea. Plus, Umemiya has dated other people over the years, so in your head there was never any hope to cling onto.  

For all reasons listed above, a requited romance is at the very bottom of your expectations.  

That's why you've been in this fucking conundrum.  

To say it was a complete shock to you when Umemiya openly confessed to you many months ago would be understatement of the goddamn century.  

He confessed right on the last day of Spring, totally out of the blue. 

(It’s a little unusual for Umemiya to call you at this hour. If it were anyone else, you’d be a little upset since you’ve gotta be up around four-am to get prepared for the day.  

It’s him though so you’re particularly tolerant, yawning as you find Umemiya on a familiar swing-set, still wearing your PJ’s.  

"Why am I out here in the middle of the night with you?"  

Your words lack any real malice as you sit down. Umemiya remains totally quiet. It's unusual for him to not immediately go on a tangent upon seeing you.  

"Oi. Earth to Hajime." You frown at him. "Did ya get beat up before coming here and scramble your brain? Give me the popsicle before it melts."  

He looks over at you and chuckles as he hands you the bag from the convenience store. You ignore his odd behavior and open up said popsicle before it melts  - carefully splitting it down the middle and giving him the bigger side before going to town on your own. He takes it from you but doesn't even bring it up to his mouth.  

Weird.  

"Did something... happen? Like seriously happen?" You take a long lick of your iced treat. It's melon flavored, your favorite. "Seeing you frown doesn't feel right. Gives me the heebie-jeebies."  

He cracks a little smile at that. It makes you feel better. He shakes his head.  

"Mm, nothing happened. I just have something I want to tell you."  

You nod in understanding. "'kay. Take your time."  

He blinks, surprised.  

"Hm? Aren't you gonna scold me for wasting your time?"  

"Nah. Whatever it is must be serious if it's making you all introspective or whatever. 's fine. Bring me coffee tomorrow and I'll forgive ya."  

His lip twitches up. "I l really like that about you."  

You feel yourself flush and wave a hand at him. "Ahh, shut up."  

He pauses for a second then shakes his head. "Mm. It's more like I like everything about you, actually."  

You twist your face in confusion. "What are you on about now?"  

"That's what I came here to tell you." Umemiya says after a deep breath. He says it so casually you wonder if you're mishearing him - leaning back to look up at the stars. "I really, really like you. I just felt like I had to tell you that"  

You stare at him in disbelief.  

"Wha—huh?"  

He doesn't even flinch as he repeats it.  

"I like you."  

"No the hell you don't."  

He furrows his brow with a light laugh. "I just told you that I do, silly."  

"But that's—" You don't say the word impossible. You really want too, but you know exactly how he would react if you did. You simply shake your head. "No, you don't." 

"I thought you might respond like this so don't worry but how about you?" He shrugs then looks at you intently. "I thought you might like me too."  

Your eyes go wide. Oh fuck.  

You feel like a deer caught in headlights. You know you should be happy about this, deep down. That'd be the normal response.  

But you just feel complicated as shit instead. Fuck does he mean? Umemiya.... likes you? There's just no way that's true. Not after all of this time. And how the fuck does he know you like him back when you've been keeping it in? 

You can't bring yourself to look him in the face and lie. Your heart rises to your throat as you shakily stand to your feet.  

"Stop...thinking whatever you've been thinking. I'm going home." You reply in complete panic. 

 The minute you say it, you turn on your heel so you don't have to look at his face. You don’t even want to know.  

And before Umemiya can catch you and try to talk it out, you bolt. 

What the fuck was that?)  

For the last few months, you've been avoiding the topic of conversation as much as you humanly can.  

The possibility of Umemiya even just accepting your feelings was already far beyond your imagination, but him returning them? Confessing first? That wasn't even in your realm of possibility.  

Ever since then, you've been losing your mind trying to force your life and train of thought to go back to normal. You’ve done all of the math on it.  

Realistically, you can't ignore him. Your lives are so mixed together it'd be impossible unless you went under protection and changed your name which you briefly considered. You thought of turning him down but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to actually do it despite how good you are at keeping it in. Either way, your best option logistically is feigning ignorance and trying to keep the whole thing out of your mind entirely which should've been easy.  

Tricking yourself into believing the whole thing was a dream? Lightwork.  

Except. Except.  

Umemiya just won't give up.  

He confesses to you again every single day. Worse, he doesn't care whose around to hear him. No one in your friend group seems even the tiniest bit shocked by it which doesn't help the situation. You can't get used to it, can't get used to him being so fucking cheeky as he stops you midway through normal conversation to tell you he loves you.  

He's persistent to a fault and while you've done well feigning immunity - you can't survive like this.  

You've graduated to tell him to go away and treating the whole thing like some big joke.  

But honestly? 

You're avoiding having a proper conversation about it. Umemiya is especially keen in not letting you forget that. And determined to make you confess.  

But you're not going to to let him sway you.  

You've got principles, after all.  

__  

After you close up shop on Friday, you get dressed to attend a kickback with all of your friends.  

It's a barbecue technically - commemorating the end of summer. Togame is really into grilling and in their weird domestic partnership, Chouji really enjoys hosting. They've done this once or twice a year ever since they started living together.  

Once you've finished cleaning up the store, you take the train to Kotoha's place - mistakenly assuming you'd leave as soon as you got there. However you failed to realize that Tsubaki and Kotoha would be getting ready together.  

You got jumped as soon as you walked through the door - so now you're wearing a different pair of clothes that Tsuabki got for you and waiting for them to finish getting you dressed up so you can leave.  

Tsuabkino is inches from your face while Kotoha braids your hair. You feel itchy and exposed but with both of them here there's no way you're going to get out of wearing it. 

"Can we just go?" You grumble, not enjoying the feeling of being poked and prodded.  

"No," Tsubaki insists, frown making her expression pinch. "You have half an eyelash on. Sit still." 

"He'll be happy to see you dressed up," Kotoha adds, trying to encourage you. You frown and look down.  

"Whatever. I don't care about makin' him happy."  

The both of them pause and stare at you until you fold under the pressure - screwing your eyes shut and making you flush.  

“Such a blatant lie.”  

Tsubaki giggles. “Right?”  

Your face feels hot. "Ahhh, alright already. Shut up."  

"Honest girls are much cuter," Tsubaki coos. You give her a half-assed glare.  

"Don't you like Hajime? Why're you trying to set me up with him still?" You mumble. You always think they’d make a perfect pair.  

"Of course I like him. He's my prince." She smiles at you. “But it’s a little different to how a certain someone loves him. And well, if you knew the way he looked at you…"  

You frown, feeling hot all the way up to your ears as you ball your fists up and look down at your lap. "Whatever." 

"You should stop trying to worm your way out of it," Kotoha adds, much less sweetly. "You know how he is. He couldn't give up on you for ten years like some idiot."  

You blink. "Huh? But ten years would mean -"  

Kotoha braids your hair even tighter making you wince. "I know. You're both stupid like that."  

"Don't be mean, Kotoha-chan. And you, be a little more honest, okay?"  

You sigh deeply. 

"Ain't like anything is gonna happen either way. I already told you both I'm not accepting his confession," 

"Cause you're a huge wuss, yeah we know."  

You elbow Kotoha lightly.  

"Maybe nothing will," Tsubaki hums mischievously.  "But it feels nice to dress up for him, right?"  

You pretend the thought doesn't make your hear flutter.  

Tsubaki does you the kindness of laughing lightly before moving on. 

__  

You arrive to the function an hour later than planned and stick mostly with Kotoha and Tsubaki until half way through the evening.  

Loosening up with a few drinks, the three of you part ways to catch-up with different people. It's not rare you see them, but it's not often everyones schedules allow them to be in the same place.  

Lucky for you, Umemiya does you the courtesy of not confessing during the first half of the night before food comes out.  

(Though you do spit beer in his face after he calls you pretty, which he takes on the chin after cleaning up.)  

After dinner, the function simmers down significantly. People quietly break off into groups and chat to each other into the late night. About that time people split whatever desserts they brought among guests.  

You brought cookies and something specifically for Chouji and Togame as thanks for hosting.  

Towards the end of the night, you find yourself sticking sort of close to Umemiya. Though he's having his own one-on-one conversation with Hiragi while sitting next to you , turned the other way.  

You busy yourself catching up to Suo, Sakura and Nirei - all of whom you consider yourself close to.  

Of them, you're the closest to Nirei which always surprises people. 

The kids a total wimp but he helped you years ago study to graduate so you're a little closer to him than everyone else. He's a great guy though and you hang out alone sometimes too.  

The conversations gone far left at this point in the evening.  

Suo leans back against his chair and looks toward Sakura besides him with a lazy smile.  

"Sakura-chan would make a great wife." 

You snort listening to them bicker. Sakura grows beet red, throwing an empty beer can at Suo's head that he catches gracefully.  

"Go die."  

"What? You're good at domestic work and you have a cute side, Isn't that all you need?"  

"Shut up. I'll kill you."  

As Suo breaks out into laughs, Sugishita comes down from the kitchen just in time to catch the argument. He crinkles his nose up.  

"Oh, Sugishita-kun. 'Sup."  

He nods to your greeting as he leans against the wood railing of the outdoor deck.  

"What the hell are you two talking about?" 

'What? You mean about Sakura being a good wife?" Suo asks. Sugishita crinkles his nose. 

"Don't phrase it so repugnantly but yeah I guess." 

"We were talking about marriage 'cause I was complaining at work."  

"What's happening at work?" 

Nirei sighs as he lays it out again to Sugishita after having given the spiel to the three of you once.  

"One of my superiors at work is a lot older than me and keeps bringing up marriage," Nirei explains woefully. "It's all he talks about. He thinks I'm seeing someone."  

Sugishita frowns. "Eh? What gave him that impression?"  

A good question you hadn't considered asking.  

You raise your brow at Nirei who laughs awkwardly while he holds your gaze.  

"You know that picture of us from highschool? When he came to the cafe at your school festival?"  

You smile spitefully, crinkling your nose in faux distaste. "The one wear we wearing those stupid maid costumes?"  

"Yup. That's the one. It's a good picture of us so I keep it on my desk and he saw it so..."  

"You keep a picture of just the two of you on your desk? No wonder he got that impression.” Suo adds.  

You sense Umemiya suddenly tense which you find weird. He's still talking to Hiragi though when you glance from the corner of your eye. You brush it off.  

Nirei blushes, elbowing him.  

"Shut up. I've got group pictures and stuff too. But he just singled out that one cause you know,"  

You nod in understanding before it dawns on you. Your eyes widen. "Oh, shit? Does that old man think you're dating me?"  

Nirei closes his eyes and sighs. "He won't even let me correct him." 

You pause before breaking out into genuine laughter.  

"Pfft, that's terrible." You reply sympathetically, taking a sip of your beer before giving a mischievous grin. "Maybe you can make it work for you though, eh? Tell 'em we got hitched forreal and then I'll call you on the phone and nag you to get home for dinner so you can leave earlier."  

Nirei acts like he's touched making you laugh even harder. "You'd do that for me?"  

You give him another toothy grin. "I'll even help you fake some wedding photos. We'll be accomplices." You lean back with a shrug. "You gotta wear the dress though." 

Sugishita laughs at that. "You being a blushing bride is a little..."  

You snort, shooting him a dirty look "Shut up."  

"Deal. Not a bad plan honestly." Nirei says with a sigh. "Whatever gets me out of the office early."  

"Even if that means being married to me?" You joke.  

He smiles at you. "Aw, what do you mean? That's the best part."  

You chuckle at him good-natuedly and the conversation quickly moves on.  

The alcohol is starting to make you dizzy so you eventually tune out as the four of them talk, glancing at Umemiya from the corner of your eye.  

You swear you catch a glimpse of his jaw ticking.  

__  

For the rest of the night, Umemiya is off.  

No one else can tell. You know that because the atmosphere remains light until everyone leaves around two-am. There's no blips or tension, no awkward pauses. 

But you know Umemiya. He's been real weird all night and it's bugging the shit out of you.  

It's a well past two now, and you've just left the late night cab you took with him. Umemiya lives close so he's walking you home.  

He's usually energetic after a get-together like that so his dead silence is weirding you out. You're pretty good at figuring his feelings out but for once you feel totally clueless.  

It feels as if even the cicadas and crickets have gone to sleep. There's nothing bu the streetlights overhead and soft glow of the moon, coupled with the soft click of your shoes on the pavement. Occasionally, a car will pass by.  

At one point, it becomes too much. There's still a few minutes until you're home.  

You stop in the middle of the sidewalk and turn around to look at him. Umemiya pauses, startled as he stops with you, and doesn't smile which only makes your concern worsen.  

"Oi. What's up with you?"  

"Hm?"  

You cross your arms over your chest.  

"Don't 'hm' me. You've been in a bad mood few for the last few hours. It's gonna bug me all night if I don't ask, so what's up?"  

He stares at you.  

"You noticed?"  

"How could I not notice?"  

"I was hiding it pretty well, I thought." He states more than asks, half-smile on his face.  

"Yeah. But well," You shrug. "I'm always looking at you for better or for worse. So. What's wrong?"  

He stares at you a long time before sighing, running his fingers through his hair. You've never seen him like this. You've seen him pissed off before, seen him mildly irritated - but never this... pouty? It's not like he's pissed.  

He's quiet, taking a deep breath of cool night air before sliding his hands into his pockets and taking a good look at your face. 

"Do you know that I like you?"  

Your eyes widen as you blink wildly.  

This is what he wants to talk about? 

He pins you down with his stare, hands in his pockets and intense as ever.  

"Don't even think about bolting this time, okay? I'm asking you seriously. Do you?" 

Your eyes flicker down the concrete - feeling extremely uncomfortable and suddenly sweaty. You shrug, unsure of what else you could say or do.  

"Hard not to know." You mumble. "You tell me everyday." 

"But do you get it?"  

Your frown deepens.  

"Of course not. How could I possibly get something like that, stupid?"  

He takes a deep breath. "But you like me, don't you?"  

Panic sets in. If you could sink straight into the Earth you would.  

"...Never said that." 

He calls your name quietly. "Look at me, at least. Stop running away from me and just look." 

You know you're being stubborn but you can't help it. You've kept it a secret for ten years and all of a sudden he wants you to tell him you like him? You've held it in for so long already and he's telling you not to run away.What other choice is there?  

One wrong move move and everything will come crashing down inside of you. You can't even lie about it either.  

Damn it.  

"I won't look." Your voice is warbly and it makes you feel so pathetic you could die, tucking your chin petulantly "Don't wanna,"  

Umemiya frowns at you.  

"If you say you don't like me I'll let it go."  

You remain very quiet and close your eyes tighter. He sighs softly, making your chest hurt.  

After a minute, you muster up the courage to be dishonest - determined to drop it at all costs. You're slow as you pick your head up.  

"I don't like you," You repeat slowly, carefully - trying not to stumble the words. "So quit it, alright?"  

He laughs humorlessly and holds your gaze.  

"That's the first time you've ever actually lied to me. You're terrible at it," 

"I'm not lying." You snap. Umemiya smiles somberly when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. He steps closer to you. You freeze. When his hand reaches cups your cheek, you feel your legs lose all their strength and close your eyes. You're terrified to even look at him, not wanting him to see what you know is obvious on your face.  

He wipes them as he tilts your face towards him slowly. 

"Tell me, at least. If you're going to refuse me, don't I deserve to know why? Do you hate the idea of dating me that much?"  

You shake your head. "Stupid. How would anyone hate that?"  

"So I deserve to know why you're turning me down."  

A long moment of silence draws you out of your feelings. You guess that's fair enough. Maybe this way he'll leave you alone  - as long you're clear about your reasons. He’s the earnest type after all.  

You manage to suck up all your tears and clear your throat enough to give him an explanation. 

You step back a little from him, putting some distance between you as you stare down at the sidewalk. 

"You know... I respect ya more than anyone else. You've always been someone I admire. And I uh, owe you a lot. So I only want the very best for you and all." You scratch your neck, taking a deep sigh. "For me... regardless of my feelings, I want you to be with someone who really fits, you know? Well put-together and everything. Someone that suits you better"  

He pauses before frowning.   

"Regardless of your feelings? Does that mean you were willingly pushing them aside?" He says distraught. "For how long?"  

You shrug, trying to lighten the conversation. It’s too devastating otherwise. "About ten years, give or take." 

The sheer distress in his face makes you want to keep talking, just he doesn’t look so disheartened. Like some explanation will clear things up.  

"It ain't a bad thing, Hajime. You've given me a lot and I'm serious when I say I want the best for you. I love you, if that's what you wanna hear. I'm content just being besides you as your friend." You say with a shrug. "I can be kinda selfish but there's a limit to my greed,yknow."  

He looks like he's in shock. 

"Wanting someone to love you back isn't greedy or selfish."  

You find you don't have anything to say with that, but hope he drops it for the time being. 

Umemiya stares at you seriously. It makes your breath hitch meeting his eyes, blue with all the depth in the world. You feel like you can't pull yourself from his gaze.  

"And there was never a possibility? Not once that I could've liked you? That I wanted to be with you?"  

"It doesn't matter." You say. "And no, it never crossed my mind.."  

"Stop saying it doesn't matter. Of course it matters. Your feelings matter the most so don't toss them aside so easily. Do you really believe that you're not right for me?"  

You aren’t sure how to answer him.  

"You think you're not good enough for me." He says with some realization more than asks.  

It's the first time you see his face change. When you look up, he looks well and truly angry. The whole thing is confusing.  

"I'm sorry," You say. It’s such a timid thing to say but you don’t know how else to fix.  

"It's not—I just don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that. I don't like hearing someone I love get spoken about like that.” 

You ignore the sentiment again and wait in the quiet. You always thought this would be an easier conversation to have but it hurts.  

He sighs a bit, getting closer to you again. He’s less upset than before but there’s something else in his expression.  

"You wanted to know why I was upset earlier right? It's because of you and Nirei-kun." He admits.  

"What about him?"  

"You talked about marrying him so casually. I overheard and it bothered me all night."  

Your eyes go wide.  

"I—it wasn't serious."  

"I know that. I never thought I was that childish either but you being married to someone else as a joke." He laughs humorlessly. "I really hated it. That’s why I asked if you know how much I like you."  

You feel frozen in place by his admission. 

Umemiya steps towards you faster than you can muster up a counter for why he shouldn’t bother.  

His arms around you feel sudden. His grip on you is so tight, like you could slip through his arms all at once if he loosens it. He smells like cologne and beer and summer but it's not unpleasant. He rests his chin on your head and lets out a deep breath.  

Your chest is throbbing for different reasons now. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.  

"If you won't be greedy, then you should at least let me be." He lets out a long, tense breath "At least let me have what I want." 

You're stuck. Your mouth moves faster than your brain.  

"Why me? And why now?"  

Umemiya pulls away to stare down at you. You can't bring yourself to turn away from him. 

"It was always you. I felt guilty... for wanting to you that way when you were a precious friend. Wanting to treat you delicately when you were strong and proud." He admits. Hearing him say that out loud embarrasses you to no end, “But it was those things that made me love you. Strong yet clumsy. Prideful yet honest. Awkward yet trying to be gentle. Loyal. And always considerate of everyone. Of me, when I was taking care of everyone else."  

Your stomach feels like it's going to erupt. You're losing your resolve faster than you know how to mend it.  

"Stop saying stuff like that."  

Umemiya holds you tighter and shakes his head. "No. How else will I get you to change your mind?"  

"I won't change my mind." You say stubbornly.  

"I love you." He repeats.  

You squirm.  

"Stop it,"  

"I want to be with you. I want to kiss you. I want to hold you. I want to stay by your side forever. I want to do things with you and make you feel good. I want to make you smile. I want to grow old with you." 

Your hearts fluttering. Fuck.  

"Idiot. What are you saying? Let me go."  

"It has to be you for me. I won't have anyone else no matter what you think. The person I love is you. I love you."  

"Hajime." Your voice is shaking. 

His drops down to a whisper.  

“I can’t change how you think of yourself overnight but I can tell you that there’s no point in trying to push me away. Whether or not you accept  me, we’ll never stop being side by side - so please stop fighting it.”  

You put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away. “Stop it,” 

"Please tell me it's okay to love you how I want too," He says, soft and doting while he crushes you in his arms. "And please love me in return."  

You put your hands up to your misty eyes wanting to wipe them away as he melts through the rest of your resolve like it's nothing. It's hard not to be moved. You've been pretending for ten long years that you don't love him at all and he's declaring his love for you like it's the easiest, most sensible and sane thing in the world.  

A kind-hearted, willful, meddling idiot. How you are you supposed to push him away when he's holding you this tight?  

"Shit," You voice, huffing as your voice shakes. "Don’t be stupid, alright? If you’re so insistent, I wont let you back out if you meet someone else."  

He laughs wetly.  

"I already tried meeting other people, but it's still you. Always was."  

He smiles above you. 6'2 with watery eyes with the look of pure relief like it's the best news he's ever heard in his life. It's too much for you. Your heart is racing so fast you wonder if you're gonna die.  

"Can I kiss you?" He asks.  

Your eyes go wide as you look away, not wanting to look too eager. "That's..."  

He makes another puppy-dog kinda face. "Please?"  

You're embarrassed by how easy it makes you give in. "...Do whatever you want."  

He laughs bright and warm as his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and kiss you with all the passion he can muster. It's intense, almost suffocating the way he slots his lips against yours and breathes you in. He doesn't let you up from it, doesn't part from you for a second even when he pulls away - noses brushing and stealing the air from your lungs.  

It's your stupid first kiss and it's perfect - so perfect you wonder if you're going to wake up in a dream. He kisses you hard and makes you stand on your toes to chase his lips when he pulls back. Elated. Ecstatic when you grasp the front of his shirt and keep kissing him when he stops. 

He pauses before littering your whole face with pecks even as you weakly protest, unable to stop frowning but feeling the happiest you've ever been.  

There's so much longing in between you, you feel like you could die. You feel helpless.   

"Can I come home with you?" He asks, once he stops - only holding your hand a short distance away. "I want more time together." 

You feel your skin burn hot as you nod, all while trying not to read too much into it. 

"Yeah."  

__ 

You barely get to lock your door behind you before Umemiya crowds you in the door way.  

His arms circle around your waist, chin resting against your shoulder.. Broad chest against your back, you try not to flounder as his warm voice caresses your ear.  

You're going to die young if he keeps this up.   

"I love you,"  

You flush. "Enough already. And let me go so I can wash up."  

"Do you need to sleep early? Thought you were closed tomorrow. Wanted to talk a little longer."  

You pause.  

"...Sleep?" 

"Hm?"  

You both freeze as the miscommunication dawns at the same time. You try to pull away from him as soon as you realize, skin burning hot. You're quick but Umemiya is quicker.  

"Hajime." You say gravely. "If you don't let me go, I'm gonna kill you."  

"No way," He laughs  as you attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. "Is that why you let me in? Were you expecting something?"  

"Shut up! Don't say anything, I swear I'll —"  

"Don't be like that, baby. I'm not making fun of you. Hey, turn around. Look at me."  

You're upset but you think the reason is more embarrassing then the feeling.  

"Don't wanna,"  

Umemiya laughs as he gently turns you around to face him. In your utter mortification, you can barely bring yourself to meet his gaze.  

"Stop staring."  

He doesn't.  

"Do you normally invite guys in just 'cause they ask?"  

"Wha—no! It's because it's you, stupid!"  

He smiles in satisfaction.  

"You shouldn't say yes so easily even if it is me. What if I took advantage of you?"  

You think he's just being smug for the sake of it, which is pissing you off. You grab him by the front of his shirt.  

"Fuck off. Maybe there's a reason I said yes."  

He pauses before his eyes widen. You push your hand against his mouth before he blurt anything else out but he's quick to pry your hand away.  

"Don't say it." You hiss.  

"I was planning on taking my time. I cherish you and I want to make sure you know that. I'm just a little surprised you’re moving so quick when you were telling me not too long ago."  

You can feel the tips of your ears growing hot, feeling even more self-conscious. "Whatever. If we're just going to sleep I still need to wash up."  

He keeps his arms behind your back so you can’t move.  

"Hey. Didn't say that. It's not like I don't want to do it with you. Just don't want you to regret anything."  

You give him an flat look. "I was prepared to give you my virginity and you're worrying about that. Unless you're planning on backing out, there's no way I would."  

"Your—" His jaw drops a little.  

You drop your voice down just a little close as you grab his collar.  

"If you get it, then hurry up and fuck me. Stupid Hajime."  

He gives you the dopiest smile you've ever seen while your face grows increasingly hot, leaning to in to press a kiss to your lips. He brushes his nose with yours. Laughter from deep in his chest.  

"Yes, ma'am."  

__ 

Once you give Umemiya permission to have you, you get the feeling that there really is no going back from here.  

You both know it. The tension in your bedroom is so thick you can barely breathe around it.  

Umemiya lands gently onto your bed - sitting up as he holds you by your waist and pulls you over to him. You're so aware of his touch it makes your nerves feel they're on fire. You're not a total virgin - at least not enough to be feeling this worked up over someones hands lingering on your waist.  

But they're Umemiya's hands—Hajime's hands, so you can't rationalize your thoughts of out it. His hands are strong and big, a little calloused and rough from the gardening and fighting. You can feel how much he adores you in a gesture so small it makes you concerned for your own heart thinking about how the rest of the night will go.  

He invites you into his lap gently, so pleased by the way you go to him so willingly. You spread yourself over him with your knees on either side of his thighs. He's big - wide and broad.  

Your barely hovering over his bulge as you lean your weight onto him. His hand barely brushes underneath your top, just barely touching the skin.  

You shiver.  

"Are you really sure this is what you want?" He asks. "I don't mind waiting as long as you need,"  

You give him an bored look. "Not very convincing when you're makin' a face like that,"  

He chuckles nervously. "That bad?"  

You nod before adding a little bashfully. "Dunno if I mind, though."  

He buries his fact against your chest all of a sudden making you jump.  

"The hell?"  

"You're so cute when you're honest like that," He mumbles into your chest, cheek pressed against your tits.  

"Jeez, shut up. What're you talking about?"  

Umemiya pulls back and leans forward - enough to breach the inches of space between you. Nose to nose, your eyes meet. A bated breath, you put your hand on his shoulders and work up the nerve to kiss him.  

It's chaste. Mostly for you to break the ice otherwise you're sure you're gonna pussy out.  

He smiles at you when you pull away.  

"See what I mean? So cute," He hums, and leans in again. "Come on. Kiss me again."  

Something about him is different when he tells you to kiss him. It's not smug or cheeky. But it's not casual either. Softness tinges his words, his touch - his whole demeanor screams like he loves you absolutely. It makes your heart rate pick up again, hands shaky as you try not to lose your nerve.  

He's restraining himself though. How he intense he could be vs how soft and calm he is being. You know Umemiya like the back of your hand so you want him to do what he wants. It's hard to find your voice.  

"You don't have to.." You cast your eyes down in embarrassment. "…hold back with me, either. I'm not some maiden."  

He smiles at you a little. "You really do know me better than anyone, huh? I was keeping it together pretty well."  

"Look I know I’m kinda difficult…I'm not real good with stuff like this either," You fidget with the collar of his shirt with your free hand. "But once I say yes I don’t back out. So don't worry about scaring me off or putting too much pressure on me or whatever. ...'s fine to just do what you feel like. I’m scared out of my mind but I wouldn’t do that to you,"  

“Don’t know how long it’ll take but I’ll do my best to make you feel secure. Might take some time but we’ve got our whole lives.” You flush at the implication. He smiles a little. "Whatever I want seems like a lot to give, though."  

"Well...depending on what, I'm might not be good at it,"   

He shakes his head. "I don't want anything like that."  

"What do you want then?"  

"You." He says easily. Your stomach flips. "All of you. I just want to make you feel so good you can't stand it. Want to worship you top to bottom. There's not a single part of you I don't want."  

You flush. "The hell... I meant like a blowjob or some shit."  

He laughs. "I know. And I want that too, another time." He hums, taking a deep breath. "Right now I just want you to feel so good for me. Is that okay?"  

You can't look at him. You can barely stand how bashful you're being, but you can't even play coy. Something in you is bursting at the seams.  

You love him so much you don't recognize yourself, or your voice, or how you're acting. It makes you sick but you can’t do anything but go with it. "Yeah. 's okay, if it's what you want."  

"It is," He says, leaning in. "All I've ever wanted."  

You ignore the latter half of his comment as he finally goes to kiss you again.  

He pulls your body close to him as you do. Until your chest to chest, arms wrapped around the span of his shoulders as you press your lips together soft and slow.  

He slides a hand underneath your top, undoing the clasp of your bra. He lets his palm stay on the center of your back while you keep kissing - straps of your bra falling down your shoulder as he splays his fingers to feel more of your skin and hold you. Hugging you close to him, his other arm wraps around your torso. His forearms feels especially strong they way they hold you by the waist.  

You're so close to him. Kissing him so deep, his tongue sliding against your lips. Something about the kiss is languid but the touch is so hot it makes your skin burn. You feel wrapped up in him, can't even tell whose heartbeat you're hearing. 

More of your weight ends up in his lap as you feel your knees go weak. Something hard presses against your clothed cunt and you gasp a little into his mouth.  

"Oh, shit." You mumble in surprise. Umemiya laughs.  

"You're making me feel good." He hums.  

Your face heats up. "I barely did anything." 

"You just being on my lap is more than enough."  

You make a face at him before rubbing yourself over the zipper of his jeans, slow and deliberate trying to get a feel for it. You hear him moan, nearly jumping out of your skin in surprise.  

The way Umemiya moans is a lot for you to process. Breathy and a little low. It resonates through your whole body like a caress.  

You make a few more tentative passes over his bulge, just to hear him do it again. Driven by your instinct more than anything, you lean into kiss at his jaw - making use of the limited experience you do have to try and draw more sounds from him.  

"What're you thinking about?" He asks, still breathless. Maybe amused.  

"Like the way you sound." You mumble in reply.  

"I thought I told you I wanted to take care of you, hm?"  

You frown. "So what? I can't touch you at all?"  

He thinks on it. "You can touch me everywhere else and you can have your way with me later, if you want it. I don't wanna cum too fast."  

"I'm just..."  

He shakes his head. "You're underestimating me. I'm still a guy, you know? With a woman I love at that. There's no way I would make it through our first time if I didn't focus on you. Don't pout,"  

Hearing him describe you in such an embarrassing way makes you flush. You roll your eyes half-heartedly. "Fine, whatever."  

He smiles.  

"Good girl. C'mere. Lay down."  

You decide not to think about how effected the praise makes you as you comply.  

Umemiya lays you down carefully, making sure you're comfortable before hovering over you. He looks a lot more imposing from this view - the dim lights of your room making his face seem more well-defined. Your nipples harden in arousal, peeking from underneath your shirt as he stares long and hard.  

"You're so beautiful to me."  

He leans down and presses a hot kiss to your jaw, just underneath your ear before slowly kissing down your neck. Open-mouthed kisses along delicate skin, tongue sliding over every patch he scrapes lightly with his teeth. You fidget underneath him, a dull throbbing between your legs. You try to figure out what to do with your hands but you’re too nervous.  

He kisses your throat where it's extra sensitive and you bite back and involuntary noise. 

"Don't hold your voice, please?"  

"It's embarrassing,"  

"It's not," He assures, bumping his forehead to your shoulder lightly. "I want to know what makes you feel good. Let me pay attention to you."  

You frown but nod ultimately.  

Umemiya isn't the first sexual encounter you've had in your life. You've done other things, but you've never really gone all the way with anyone. All of your other partners were mostly strangers - people mutually interested in using someone else to try and get off.  

This is the first time anyone has taken this much time with you. A little kissing and groping, sometimes touching your chest.  

No one's ever touched you like this, though.  

His hands feel like they're all over your body no matter where they actually end up being. Makes your heartbeat rain drumming on a tin roof. Makes your stomach tingle, a heat in your calves and a prickly feeling on your back. Your whole being drowning with pure anticipation.  

"Take this off for me." Umemiya mumbles. You nod, feeling absent as you wiggle yourself out of your tight little tee and toss it somewhere.  

The air shifts again when you're naked. His eyes drink you in, tracing the soft lines and edges of your body. Looking over scars and stretchmarks with pure, blown out wanting that shoots lust straight into your veins.  

You want him to fuck you so bad it's killing you but the very thought makes you feel so shy you could die.  

"You're beautiful," Sounds dirty the way he says, makes it spill from his lips like wine tipping over a glasses edge. "Perfect. Every inch of you is so perfect."  

He proves this to you by kissing you again. Running his hands over your skin. Up against curved sides and down against your arms, brushing the back of your biceps and forearms.  

Infatuation in his touch ruins you. Makes your voice let out. You can't think of anyone whose treated you so preciously in your entire life and you find you don't resent it as much as you should.  

(You find it feels so good to let someone touch you so kindly. A touch like you're being loved.)  

Nonetheless it's embarrassing. Of course it is.  

But it's so hard not to feel pulled in when you feel the way he kisses you. Draws a trail with his lips and tongue from jaw to shoulder blade - kissing down your biceps with his hands on your body, taking  gentle inhales of your scent.  

Anticipation makes your stomach tie in knots but finally he relents. Both hands squeeze the soft weight of your chest, palms brushing your hardened nipples.  

"Fuck."  

He laughs a little, heavy with want. "Yeah? Do you like being touched here?"  

"Mm." Is the best reply you can get out.  

He brushes against the tips with his fingers in a feather-light gesture, testing the waters before rubbing with a little more pressure. Your body jolts from the stimulation, wetness pooling and dampening your underwear. He leans in and takes one of your nipples into his mouth making another dull wave of lust wash through you.  

And he makes sure to pay attention to both. It's just like him to be so attentive to some shit like that. Your spine arches as he sucks on your sensitive nipples, letting his tongue flick across them and giving into a sweet friction. You buck your hips up against instinctively, gripping onto the sheets as your sense of restlessness grows.  

Your voice is whiny to your own ears but you can't calm down to save your life.  

"You're taking too long," You huff. He laughs lightly, looking up at you from underneath his lashes.  

"Don't be impatient." He tsks.  

"It's enough already," 

He shakes his head. "Nope. Still got a long ways to go. Promise you'll have me when you're ready for it, so just try and focus on feeling good."  

You make a frustrated sound. "It's embarrassing being the only one feeling good,"  

He pauses before standing up on his knees. He takes his black t-shirt off in one swift go until his torso is bare, and undoes the top button of his pants. He gives you a little glance. "Better?"  

There are too many layers of that to process in the moment it happens. You mumble. "A little,"  

He beams. "Good. Now let me take good care of you,"  

Sliding down lower, he kisses you from sternum to navel. Hands gripping at the softness of your sides, smoothing over the bare skin as he his thumb finds the waistband of your skirt. He glances up at you, silently seeking your permission. You nod back at him, watching him slide the short skirt away from your waist.  

The sudden air feels cool against your skin. He presses his cheek against your belly, both hands on your hips..  

"You're gorgeous. Even more gorgeous than I thought. I feel so lucky being able to touch you when you're this perfect.” He praises endlessly.  

You cover your face with your arm.  

"Ugh. Quit it. You're sayin' too much."  

"Seeing you get so shy when I praise you a little is so cute." He trails his lips down further and further - just above your sex before stopping. "You're so cute."  

He sits back, standing up and bending your legs slightly at the knee. You hold the position as you feel him massage your calve. Thumb drawing hard circles in the muscle, slowly working his way up to your knee. He kisses you afterwards trailing the same spot his hands were touching seconds ago before moving onto the other side.  

There's nothing you can call it short of worship. The nagging feeling that it's undeserved is washed away each time Umemiya holds your gaze.  

Devotion colors every touch no matter how small. And it’s so obvious, so prominent - it feels outright wrong to deny the fact it’s there.   

You think the closest thing you can compare it too is the way Umemiya gardens. A patience as his fingers root through earth and soil, a kindness towards delicate things that makes even hours of work under the sun look beautiful and easy. His expression is what's most uncanny - what makes you you feel so hot. 

An expression that says he loves doing it from the very bottom of his heart - not even a hint of apathy or complaint.  

A face that says he loves every long, drawn out motion and actions of repetition all fro the very core of him.  

Having it directed at making love to you so blatantly makes you more aroused than you know what to do with. You don't know how to let yourself be treated like the most cherished flower in Umemiya's garden - and you aren't so sure how you're meant to get used to it no matter how much it makes you feel...nice. You don’t have any other experience.  

Which is why you're trying to be patient. Trying to be at least temporarily secure in whatever he sees in you that makes him worship every inch of you, memorizing all your ins and outs.  

Umemiya places hot, wet kisses on your inner thigh before laying himself between your spread legs - breath barely hovering over your sex.  

By the time he gets there, you feel utterly melted into your sheets. Your mind is hazy, impatient and wanting as strong hands secure your thighs. He's so close.  

"I wanna eat you out. Is that okay?"  

"If you don't do something soon I'm gonna kill you."  

He laughs warmly. "I'll take that as a yes."  

You pause. Umemiya waits.  

"I didn't uh," You clear your throat. "Wasn't planning on getting laid so y'know. Haven't shaved in a while."  

"Were you worried that I'd change my mind? I like it for the record. Feels natural." Umemiya says. "It's your body so there's nothing I would dislike about it."  

"You're too much." You reply back in earnest. You cover your face with your arms. "So cheesy."  

"I'm being serious." He says suddenly solemn with how sincere he is. 

The sudden change is amusing. You pause before breaking into genuine giggles, unable to help yourself.  

"You're really somethin', yknow that?"  

He's quiet for a long time. Long enough for it to catch your attention, turning your gaze more clearly towards his face. Swiftly, he pushes himself up to catch your mouth in another kiss. It stuns you a bit, very different to all the rest. More teeth and tongue than lip.  

"I like you," He murmurs, forehead to yours. "How can someone be so cute?"  

"Would you quit embarrassing me and get on with it?" 

He smiles. "As you wish,"  

Umemiya settles back down between your legs after easing your panties off and putting your feet flat on the bed to give himself more access. You can barely look down at him doing it. His fingers brush the slick hairs back gentle as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy apart and look at you more intimately.  

You can feel him. Feel his every breath and movement. He stares at you awestruck. "How is all of you so pretty? Even here it's such a beautiful color."  

"Stop looking so much,"  

He takes a breath, taking in your scent one more time before pressing a kiss to your clit. You make an attempt to squirm away from his grip as his finger dig into your thighs and hold you down. The strength of it knocks the wind out of you, forcing you into place. Umemiya pushes his tongue and gives you a long, tentative lick through the seam of your cunt.  

Your whole body breaks out into shivers at the sensation. The warm weight of his tongue on your sex makes feels like an electric current through water - your toes curling as he makes the same few passes over and over. He collects your pooling arousal on the tip as he drags upwards and flicks your clit tentatively. You grind against his face instinctually, hips chasing the pleasure. Amused laughter vibrates against your core as you do, mumbling at you to be patient while he's still face deep in it.  

You let out another pitchy whine before he finally stops teasing. He lays his tongue flat against your clit, cupping it lightly before drawing it around experimentally. He watches carefully as he plays around with pressure and angles - trying to see what makes you react the most. You can feel how closely he's watching you. 

You cover your mouth with your hand when he does find it, your voice breaking off as he licks carefully right where you need. He smiles into your cunt as he toys with your with the sensitive bundle of nerves, pleased by the change in your reactions. The obvious pleasure he's making you feel.  

Something blooms into your chest. You've never— 

"You're—" You close your eyes, hands tangling in the sheets as you break out into a fever. "Ngh, never had someone l-lick me,"  

He must've heard you because he seems to laser in his focus the minute you say it. He's lapping at your clit so deep, licking precisely and holding you with nose against your bush.  

You reach down tentatively, pushing back the hair falling in his face and he gives you a look so lovesick you want to run away. The pressure changes gradually, more intensely.  

It feels better somehow. Makes you feel restless. Your whole body curls in tight with want at the sensation of it, the lower expanse of your belly tensed. You're shaking as you drift closer to the edge, arousal upped by the wet sound of him sucking your clit.  

"Hajime," You warn, spine starting to arch as you helplessly try to pull away from the intense sensation. It's not familiar to your body, so much so your mind can barely make sense of what's happening to it, "Cumming—c-cumming!"  

Something in you goes undone as Umemiya keeps pace during your orgasm. All the tension inside of you suddenly comes loose - specks of white matter behind closed lids as you screw your eyes shut. Your back curves up into arch, your hips trembling, your insides pulsing. It comes running into you, crashing into your body as waves of pleasure drown out the noise in your head. He eats you out until you feel borderline hysterical.  

You feel melted and reshaped by him - yanking him off when he continues to be insistent after you're too oversensitive. He laughs when you pull him away, resting against your thigh as you take worn out heaving breaths.  

He kisses the inside of your knee as you calm down, bright smile on his features - painted pink with a slight flush. "You came. I'm so happy."  

You look at him in shock. "You're a scary guy."  

He pushes up to kiss your temple, voice soft. "Did I scare you?"  

Your stomach flutters, tucking your chin. "You were intense, but I didn't... hate it or anything."  

"Yeah?" He grins, pressing a few kisses to your cheek and face before whispering against your ear. "Then, is it okay to go farther?"  

You nod silently. Umemiya smiles.  

He stands up on his knees, pushing his hair back as your eyes are drawn to his pants. You reach out for the waistband of his pants unthinkingly, hooking your finger into it. "Isn't it stuffy?"  

He blinks, frozen before rubbing a hand across his face. "Ah a bit, but it's fine."  

"Take 'em off. Please?"  

Umemiya looks unusually distressed by the request, but follows through without another word. You watch him undress - revealing the tight black fabric of his boxer briefs snug against his waist. Your eyes go wide as you see the outline of his cock - head still half hazy. You voice your unfiltered reaction.  

"Your dick is so big,"  

He laughs breathlessly. "Are you trying to stir me up? What's with you?" He pauses to lay down besides you. You turn to lay on your side and face him a little better. "You're being cute. I'm not used to seeing you so docile."  

"Shaddup," You reply half-heartedly. Your body is still on fire but it knocked the wind of you to cum once already. "Your fault."  

He grins, a hint of smugness as he laughs. "That's true."  

"You gonna fuck me?"  

"Mm, yeah. Gotta open you up first or it'll hurt."  

"I've put stuff in before. Toys. Should be fine."   

"Still wanna play it safe. It's your precious first time after all."  

You make a face before pulling him into you, hugging him tight as your whole body breaks out in a shameful flush. "Then hurry up and do it already."  

His arms slide underneath where your laying, holding you to him as he hikes one of your legs up. He slides his free hand in over your leg - his forearm holding your thigh. You press your face to his neck and shoulder - hiding your expression. "Guess I should huh? You were always impatient,"  

You can barely tell him to shut up, the way your body waits for it. A warbled little noise leaves your mouth as he slides his middle finger through the sticky folds of your cunt - careful as it catches on your hole. Wet and so aroused, the first finger he puts in goes in completely smoothly with no real effort 

Umemiya speaks low and soft as he holds you. "I don't know if I can get used to seeing you like this. I'm glad no one else but me ever wil You’re really all I think about lately," He catches the lobe of your ear between his teeth gently. Your head spins. "People misunderstand you because you're prickly, you know? For a long time, only I knew what it felt like to be liked by you. I liked that,"  

"Why are you—mmgh," 

He slides another finger in carefully after the first one slides inside of you with no resistance. His voice is so hot against your skin, the low bass of it in your skull as he speaks so close to your ear.  

"Don't get me wrong I'm happy seeing you with so many people surrounding you. But I was a little sad too. And it kept getting worse over the years until I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn’t figure out why for a long time and then it clicked,” Umemiya explains. You realize half way delirious this is his real confession. God, you’re gonna kill him. “Suddenly it was all I thought about. I wanted to be special to you. I wanted to monopolize you. It was my first time having thoughts like that,”  

Another finger slides into you easily. Umemiyas fingers are so much bigger than yours. Thicker than they are long. The stretch is enough to make you gasp.  

“Hajime—“ 

He curls them up, careful until he finds the spot he’s looking for. Your body reacts, another sensation of pressure as his middle finger rubs tenderly against your gspot. You weakly try to wiggle away as he holds you firm.  

“I felt a little guilty, too. You’re my very best friend. You’re independent and diligent. Tough. But you know, when I saw you for those few months - all I could think about was how much I wanted to spoil you,” He whispers. Something in your body shifts the way touches you. Pushes in further and further - stretching until it’s easy for him to be inside. “Somehow everything I liked about you became so cute I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t help but want to dote on you over every little thing even though I knew better than anyone you didn’t need something like that.”  

Your eyes well up but not necessarily from emotion. Totally overwhelmed. You don’t feel like you’re gonna cum but there’s something else that’s waiting and each time he thrusts his fingers into you it comes a little closer. Your voice is shaking.  

“It—fuck, quit talking. Somethings gonna—“  

His smile grows a little. It’s the first time it looks so hungry.  

“I was happy in general when I realized you liked me too. Even when you were being stubborn, I liked the way you couldn’t turn me away. I liked how happy you looked talking to me as usual as if that alone was something so precious,” He hums, so focused and precise as he stretches you open on a third finger but never once losing his train of thought. Like saying all of these comes to him so easily it doesn’t matter. “I didn’t want to corner you. But it felt like I couldn’t rest until you were mine completely. Which is why I’m being so unfair to you. Why I’m so persistent. ” 

Your voice breaks on a whine. “It’s gonna come out—“  

“You make a pretty face when your heads filled with nothing but me. I don’t think it’s bad to wanna stay that way,” He hums, almost conversational as he presses a kiss to your skin. “Go on. Let go,”  

Something hot sprays between your legs as Umemiya fucks you open on all three of his fingers.  

A rush of warm liquid squirts onto your sheets as your legs shake wearily. Umemiya marvels at the mess. Your hands curl into fists, nails digging in your palms as he finally pulls them out - leaving you stretched, almost gaping.  

You lay limp in soaked sheets as you pull away from Umemiya with a very weak glare.  

He’s smiling at you, dopey and lovesick.  

“Too much?”  

Angrily, you smack at his bare chest over and over, trying to recover your pride.  

“You’re insane. What’s,” You swallow thickly. “What’s with you.”  

He shrugs. Wordless, he flips you onto your back again before hovering over top of you. Pressing his forehead to yours, he brushes your noses together and plants a tentative peck on your lips as if trying to gauge whether or not you’re upset. He melts when you kiss him back, smiling happily.  

“Were you like this with your other girlfriends? No wonder they broke up with you,”  

He laughs. “Mm, no? I was more of a gentleman.”  

You break out into another exhausted fit of laughter.  

“Pfft, yeah? Guess I’m pretty special,” 

“Yeah. You are.” He kisses you again. “Wanna keep going or are you too tired? I don’t mind if we sleep.”  

“Stupid. I said it already didn’t I? Hurry up and fuck me.”  

“Okay, okay. Let me go get the condom from my wallet,”  

You wrap your legs around his waist and stare up at him plainly as he tries to move, keeping him pinned in place. You’re frowning, brows furrowed with a hard glare. He stares at you.  

“Did you want something else? Water?”  

“Want you to fuck me,” You restate, arms reaching up to circle around his neck. “Just do it already.” 

He pulls back to look at you seriously.  

“Do you know what you’re asking?”  

You flush. “Of course I do. Stupid. Are you trying to get me to say it out loud?”  

“I might think I’m deluding myself otherwise.”  

You sigh, looking at him flatly as you try to tamp down the part of you that’s screaming to be more tactful.  

“Don’t bother with the condom, a-alright? Or pulling out,”  

He looks like he’s experiencing the shock of his life. “But…” 

“Stop being dumb or I’m never gonna have sex with you again.”  

He nods suddenly solemn. “Fine. But,”  

You give him another look that silences him. He sighs again, getting the message before kissing your cheek and pull back to sit up on his knees between your legs. Pulling his briefs down, his cock springs free. It looks a lot bigger than you saw underneath the fabric, weighed down from it’s own weight even though it stands up stiff. He opened you up with three but you wonder if it’ll be enough not to stretch you open.  

You reach your hand out to touch it tentatively, feeling it’s weight and heft. He clears his throat but seems content to let you. The palms of your hands cup the shaft, feeling all the veins pulse. The tip is sticky with precum. You pull your hand away, another sudden wave of self consciousness overwhelming you.  

Umemiya hovers over you again, placing he length of his cock against your pussy. You shift a little feeling it slide against you, hard and hot.  

“Gonna put it in now, okay?”  

Nodding, you put your legs up. You take a deep breath when the head pushes in, letting out an involuntary noise. You feel well-stretched but the thickness of his cock is still enough to make you feel it in your legs. Umemiya is focused above you, barely sliding the tip through your folds as you open up around him. The air feels punched out of your lungs on just the first inch.  

His face is strained is he holds his hips steady, leaning down to tap your foreheads together. “Feeling okay?”  

“Mm,” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fine. Feels different.”  

“Different?”  

“Yours is bigger than all the stuff I own,” You explain. “Feels hotter. Harder, too.”  

You feel his cock twitch inside of you suddenly, shocking you. He smiles sheepishly.  

“Gonna push in a little more, okay?”  

You nod, watching as Umemiya so slowly presses his cock into you further. Enough that it doesn’t hurt when you take him, as much as it just feels like something is inside of you. You feel a warm sense of satisfaction at how full you feel. You feel like him like he’s in your stomach, taking up so much space. After a while of pushing, stopping, and going again  - he finally bottoms out.  

“You feel incredible,” He murmurs, half-smile on his face. Your stomach flutters. “It’s hard not to cum right away. Feels so good inside of you. I love you.”  

You feel yourself twitch, frowning at the expression of delight Umemiya has. You put your hand against his fact to keep him away but he kisses your palm and moves it. Bottomed out, he grasps both hands and holds them  - pinning them to the bed as you watch him wide-eyed.  

“Think you’re used to it?” He hums, clasping your fingers together. “Is it okay if I move?”  

You feel so damn bashful. “It’s okay.” 

He kisses your forehead. “I’ll go slow.” 

As promised, Umemiya pulls out carefully before pushing back into you. You’re so wet that it slides in without any real friction. It takes a few thrusts of him going slowly for your body to get adjusted to the sensation. After a few motions, though - it starts to feel different.  

Starts to feel good. Really, really good.  

“Oh,” Your eyes flutter open. “Shit. You c-can go faster.”   

“Yeah?”  

You nod, trying not to seem too eager. 

When Umemiya picks up pace, you feel your  the whole lower half of your body weaken all over again. Something in your legs, your spine go soft against the bed underneath, a sudden unusual arousal swelling. Somewhere in deeper as he cocks thrusts against your gspot, knocking against it with more force than before. The change in pace coupled with the visual of Umemiya over you, face drawn together in focus as he fucks you is too much. Split open on his cock, you can hear how wet you are each time he moves.  

“Feels…” Your words come up empty. “’s so much.” 

“Yeah? Is it too much for you, baby?”  

You shake your head as your thoughts get increasingly cloudy. It’s like there’s nothing else your body can focus on. The way his cock drags against your sensitive, silken walls. The feeling of being full to empty and then full all over again. The way your pussy gets so much wetter each time he moves, sloppy and sucking him in so tight. You can feel your body want for him.  

Umemiya lets go of your hands, sliding one between your bodies. Palm resting on your sex, he lets his brush against your clit. The difference it makes is significant, makes your eyes go wide. He smiles a little, hair falling in his face as he pushes it up with his free hand.  

“That’s it,” He hums, contented to keep at it like this. “Feels good, right? Your holding onto me so tightly it’s hard for me to pull out even though you’re so wet.”  

You make a whiny noise and wonder if other peoples first times feel this good or if you’re just outrageously lucky. You decide on the latter he fucks you faster and matches his thrusts with the movement of his fingers. You’re warm all over - skin scorching as your hands find his biceps and shoulders to cling onto.  

Your voice is so whiny when you call out for him “You’re so deep, ngh.”  

He laughs, deep and raspy. “Yeah? Tell me what you’re feeling,”  

“It feels good when you’re in me.” You reply drunkenly. “Want it faster. Please,”  

He complies with your request almost immediately. You cry out loud, physically incapable of holding the sound in as he gets to fucking you faster and harder. Your pussy is throbbing. Senselessly horny, you pull Umemiya closer to you as he fucks you and smash your lips together. You feel so good, so thoroughly fucked and completely out of it. He’s in you but you want him even closer, want the scent of his skin to mark you.  

A second time your body builds up to that familiar feeling but it’s so much farther inside. An orgasm pulled right from your core. Stomach tied in knots as Umemiya fucks you hard, you wrap your legs around his waist and take him. 

“That’s it. You’re so good. Cum on my cock, sweet girl. Let me feel it” He murmurs against your skin, holding you close. “You’re making me feel so good. So cute. Go ahead, it’s okay. Let me see how good I’m making you feel.”  

Pliant to his request, you hold onto Umemiya for dear life as your body gives into second orgasm. Your nails dig into his biceps as the built up arousal gives way pleasure - and you cum hard with his cock sheathed all the way inside of you. All the wind gets stolen from your lungs as you press forward with another kiss, your whole body trembling violently as you let go.  

Umemiya sweet talks you through without letting go once, only stopping to take a pause when you’ve fully ridden out your high.  

You stare up at him in a daze as he takes a breather to kiss you, still hard as he’s bottomed out inside of you.  

“You gonna cum soon?”  

“Mm,” He nods. “Yeah I’m close. If I move, I will.”  

“’s okay to cum in me,”  

Umemiya laughs warmly. “I’m already about too. You’re not helping,”  

You smile a bit as you hug him close to you and tell him again that it’s fine. Before long, he holds you too, whispering the same three words into your neck as he finally lets it out. It’s a weird feeling, thick white ropes of seed spilling into the deepest parts of you.  

You don’t really hate it, though.  

“I love you,” Umemiya repeats. Tired you don’t try to fight yourself.  

“Love you too,”  

__ 

The next morning, you’re stirred away by the sound of your front door unlocking and the sound of Kotoha’s voice echoing through your apartment.  

You’re still half-way asleep, so it barely dawns on you that anything is off. Not cognizant enough to think twice, your body tries to go back to sleep.  

Or it does until you hear a very loud shout coming from your kitchen that wakes you up with a start.  

“No fucking way,”  

You sit up suddenly, hearing faint conversation before the sound of steps barreling towards your door. You just barely manage to pull the sheets up over your chest before she comes storming through the door of your bedroom.  

You watch her eyes scan your entire room, mentally collecting data before she finally lands on you. As your brain starts to load back in, your eyes go wide with horror at the look of pure scandal on her face.  

Fuck. You were supposed to be having dinner with her and Tsubaki tonight. Usually you confirm with them in the mornings since your up. It’s not uncommon for her to drop in when you don’t reply to check in since you live close by. 

Fuck.  

“You—Oh, I have to text Tsubaki-chan, I can’t believe—“  

Before she gets to finish her sentence, Umemiya appears behind her in your door way. The sight of him only adds fuel to the flame of your embarrassment. You went another round or two before bed last night and it looks like it too. Shirtless in sweats he left over a while ago, his biceps are covered in scratch and with a few hickies, he’s wearing his hair down with a cup of tea and a very apologetic smile.  

You cover your face with your hands unsure of how to deal with the feeling of pure mortification.  

Kotoha snaps a picture of your room that causes even more distress.  

“If you don’t delete that right now, I’m gonna kill us both.”  

“In your dreams.”  

Umemiya laughs warmly. “Please don’t kill each other.”  

He slides past Kotoha coming over to you. Bending down to kiss your forehead, he pulls the blanket up over you so you’re more well-covered. You give him an incredulous but Umemiya is unfazed - smiling as bright as ever. 

“Good morning,”  

“I can’t believe my eyes,” Kotoha says. She points at Umemiya. “You, go put on a shirt.”  

“Fine, fine. Stay for breakfast,” Umemiya says with a smile. “It’ll be nice having it with my two favorite people.”  

You make another face as Umemiya gives you a long, affectionate look before disappearing. She sighs as she looks at you, pinching the bridge of her nose.  

“I would ask if you’re gonna meet us for dinner but you don’t have a choice anymore so show up at seven. I’m gonna leave before that tactless idiot comes back. We’ll talk later.”  

You nod in understanding. She turns to leave but then turns back with a genuine smile.  

“And, well - congrats. He’s a tactless idiot but he does love you or whatever. Cherish each other,”  

You flush, nodding your head. “Yeah…thanks.”  

With that Kotoha leaves quickly. Umemiya returns still shirtless, pouting a little when he notices she’s gone.  

“She left already?”  

“Of course she did. I can’t believe you would invite her for breakfast.”   

Umemiya shrugs. “No point being coy about it. I thought it’d be nice. I was looking for a shirt but I guess I don’t need one now,” He sits besides you on the bed, turning to face with a goofy smile. “Anyways, good morning.”  

“You already said that.”  

“You didn’t say it back,”  

You frown. “G’morning,”  

He smiles suddenly  before grabbing you from underneath the blankets and sheets - pulling your naked body ontop of him as he grins. Sunlight pours through the window as he holds you to his chest, kissing the crown of your head before pressing his cheek into your hair.  

“Mm, yeah. It’s a really good morning after all.”  

“You’re stupid.”  

“And you love me,”  

You fail trying not to smile.  Damn him. You're so happy it hurts. You roll your eyes.

“I guess so.”  

[egcdeath]

clean sheet

pairing: joel miller x reader 

summary: nothing stirs the pot like your ex-husband, gossipy soccer moms, and a weekend-long soccer tournament. (part two of spectator sport)

word count: 7.7k

warnings: canon divergent: no apocalypse, implied past emotional abuse, jealousy/misunderstanding, kinda angsty in the beginning but verrrry fluffy at the end, insecurities, there was only one bed, mutual pining, sarah and chloe being menaces as usual

author’s note: this past week has been extremely rough. like, ao3 author’s note apologizing for being gone rough, so i’m just as surprised as you are that i was able to write 7,000 words of a part two to spectator sport. enjoy!

 part 3 / series masterlist

Tournament season was nothing short of an absolute pain in the ass. It was a pain in the ass when you were married and able to evenly split your responsibilities, and it’s even more of a pain in the ass now that your ex-husband has decided to participate minimally in all soccer related ventures. 

To be completely honest, it seemed like it wasn’t just soccer ventures your ex wasn’t too enthused to partake in, as Nathan had ditched most of his fatherly duties whenever a new, younger girlfriend was in the picture. But that was neither here nor there.

Despite Nathan taking Chloe to her past few games this season—you were completely swamped with work and you had practically gotten on your knees and begged for him to take her to them—he didn’t seem to have any interest in assisting you with tournaments. 

That was fine and good. You knew about the events far enough in advance to move some meetings around, block off some time, and cross your fingers and hope that nothing came up unexpectedly in the days prior to your game. Although, what you couldn’t account for was your car completely breaking down on your way back from a bagel shop the morning before you were meant to be on the road for the next three hours. 

But alas, the universe had its way of kicking you when you were already down, leaving you biting back tears in the passenger seat of a tow truck as you attempted to figure out a Plan B.

“Please, Nathaniel,” you pleaded over the phone, pacing back and forth in your bedroom as you tried your absolute best to hold the last bits of your composure together. 

“I’ve been at her last three games,” it was impossible to miss the sneer in his voice as if his own daughter was the biggest burden in the world. “And where have you been? It’s practically been a month.”

“Where have I been?” you laughed out of anger and at the absurdity of his words. You knew that he knew for a fact that you’d been drowning in work. “Nathaniel. You know how my work has been. Please just do this one thing for your child. It’s the fucking weekend. It’s not like you’re doing anything else.”

“It’s always work with you. You know, this is why I couldn’t be with you anymore. You were always so selfish with your time and inconsiderate with mine,” he sighed dismissively. “And for the record, Claire and I have a reservation tonight. So I am doing something else.”

It was staggering how minimized and powerless he made you feel after every interaction despite how little he actually was in your life. Every time you interacted with the man you thanked whatever forces out there that you somehow found it in yourself to leave. 

You huffed and blinked away tears, hugging yourself to attempt to bring yourself some sort of comfort. After signing the papers, you told yourself you would never waste one single tear on the man again. You wouldn’t let a little argument like this change that promise.

“Can I at least borrow your car?” you sounded so meek and desperate, but you were running out of options, and with every passing minute you had less and less options.

Instead of responding, Nathan simply laughed at you before ending the call. Humiliated didn’t even begin to cover how you felt about the whole situation. 

You angrily wiped away the hot tears that had slipped down your face without your permission and sighed as you evaluated what options you had left. You could take an Uber, but it would be ridiculously expensive. You could rent a car, but Chloe was bound to get stains and dirt tracked throughout the vehicle. Anything else was far too short notice. 

You flopped down onto your bed and screamed into your pillow. The stress from your overfilled work week combined with an extremely inconvenient situation was taking its toll on you, but you needed to figure something out. 

Maybe you could carpool with someone. Although, you weren’t sure who was still in town, as most of the families liked to leave at the ass crack of dawn. If that wasn’t enough, you weren’t exactly sure you wanted to sit in a small contained space with some of those families for a prolonged period of time. 

Maybe you could ‘borrow’ Nathan’s car regardless of what he said. You were sure his new girlfriend had a car–if she was even old enough to drive one–and they could certainly take that car to their ever-important reservation tonight. Although, maybe getting a grand theft auto charge in order to make it to a soccer tournament wasn't your greatest idea.

You were deep in the eye of a brainstorm when a soft little knock rapped against your door, seconds before Chloe peeked her head in. 

“Hi mom,” she greeted, completely unaware of the extent of your conundrum. “Sarah can’t find her cleats and wanted to know if she could borrow one of mine. Where do you keep my old ones?” 

Joel.

Oh shit, Joel.

Joel who you’d accidentally ghosted after the promise of a date. With work and ex-spousal drama, you hadn’t even had a moment to think about the date. A knot tied in your stomach as you thought about how you’d treated him. He probably thought you were icing him out on purpose. 

“They should be downstairs in the front closet under the coats,” you informed her. “You almost ready to go?”

“What does it look like?” she retorted sassily, doing a little spin for you to show off her full soccer attire. 

“Alright,” you chuckled, trying to keep it together for just a while longer. “Go find those cleats.”

With that, she was off, and you were alone with just one option. 

You dialed the number that you’d only texted once, and bit your lip as the phone rang out. The knot in your stomach tied and untied with each ring of the phone, nausea rattling you as you thought about all the ways he could answer. He’d probably be pissed that you were only reaching out to him now, only when you needed something from him. He’d probably tell you off, just like Nathan, and laugh at you over the phone over the mere prospect of hitching a ride with him.

After three rings, Joel finally picked up, saying your name aloud, as if he was genuinely surprised to be hearing from you. 

“Joel, I’m so sorry,” you took a deep breath and attempted to hold back the wave of emotions coming over you. This stupid stressful morning. This stupid stressful month. And stupid you for leaving a good man waiting for you. A good man who was probably moments away from becoming a bad man, like every other one that seemed to appear in your life.

“My car broke down this morning and I don’t have any other way to get to the tournament. Is there any way we can carpool? I’ll literally pay you to take us. I’ll drive Sarah to school for the rest of the school year. Hell, I’ll take her to games too. Just… please.” It felt like you were talking a million miles a minute. 

“Hey, take a breath,” he said, clearly picking up on the frantic energy you were radiating through the phone. “We’re heading out in about twenty minutes. We’ll swing by your place. And don’t worry about all that other stuff, okay? Just take a big breath. I’ll see you soon.”

You were flooded with relief as you spoke your gratitude and hung up. It almost felt odd to not have someone go off on you for waiting so last minute to reach out for help, or for not reaching out to them after you said that you would. You were puzzled, and not completely sure what you did to deserve someone like Joel in your life, but you were grateful to have him regardless. Especially now that he was coming to save the day. 

Sure enough, around twenty minutes later, a pickup truck arrived in front of your house, and Chloe was sprinting to go sit with her friend in the backseat, still overjoyed from the news that she would be traveling with her friend. 

Timidly, you entered the car, still anticipating a stern lecture or even a scolding for being a shitty mom, and an even worse potential partner. “I really can’t thank you enough for this, Joel,” you expressed before he had the chance to speak, hoping that if you expressed your gratitude before he had the chance to yell at you, the blow would be lessened. You kept your eyes down as you sat down and set your overnight bag in front of you. 

“Of course. You know, I still owe you a favor after that dinner fiasco,” he glanced over at you and smiled, and some of that fear you had been holding onto began to melt away. Although, you blanched at the mention of the date that you were meant to go on, but hadn’t had the chance to do so. Yet, there didn’t seem to be any malice behind Joel’s words. 

“I guess we’re even?” you offered, looking over at the man to attempt to read him as he slung his arm around the back of the headrest and looked through the rearview mirror as he pulled out. 

“Yeah,” he said shortly, almost… dejectedly? Maybe you were reading into it too much. After all, his attention was split between you and getting out of your driveway safely. 

Regardless of what anyone was feeling, your journey began with the girls in the back chatting amongst themselves and a slightly weighted silence between the two of you in the front while the sound of radio filled in for the lack of conversation between you and Joel.

You spent the majority of the ride looking out your window, deep in thought. You tried not to let Nathan get under your skin all that often, but maybe he was right about the way you spent your time. You’d practically thrown away your shot at any relationship with the man next to you, simply because you were too busy and forgot about a promise you’d made. 

You tried to focus on the excited chatter in the seat behind you, and less on the venomous words Nathan had given you over the years, but it was a difficult task. Paired with the fact that you were still waiting for the shoe to drop and Joel to go off on you, it wasn’t the most pleasant time.

After about an hour of driving (and in your case, brooding), you had to make a stop at the gas station, as the truck was running low on fuel. You reached for your wallet and grabbed a twenty dollar bill, then passed it back to the girls behind you. “Go get some snacks for us?” 

“Of course!” Chloe cheered, hopping out of the car and racing Sarah into the entrance of the gas station.

Joel was definitely going to go off on you now that the kids were gone. You held your breath as you got out of the car, leaning against the hood of the vehicle as Joel stood by the pump, his eyes fixed on his vehicle.

“I can’t tell you just how sorry I am. About not reaching out to you to go out sometime, and for having to ask you so last minute to take us to the tournament. I’ve just been absolutely swamped with work, and Natha-“

“You’re fine,” Joel cut you off as he acknowledged your apology, keeping his gaze trained on the car. Here it comes. “You don’t need to apologize. Sometimes life just throws a bunch of shit at us at once.”

You nodded in agreement, your breathing picking up as you waited for the condescension or lecture to begin. Yet… it never came. You weren’t sure if he was as upset as you suspected, but Joel was certainly feeling more than he was willing to let on. The lack of eye contact and his slightly off responses told you that much. 

“Is everything okay?” you finally asked, trailing off. “You’ve barely said a word all trip.”

“Everything is fine. I’m just tired,” he rubbed his forehead with his hand. 

“Well, if you’re tired, I can drive us the rest of the way over and you can sleep. That way you’ll be rested for the game,” you offered, taking a daring step towards him, and setting your hand on his bicep—a peace treaty of sorts. And maybe a hint that you were still interested in whatever sparks had been evident before. 

Joel immediately stiffened under your touch, and subtly rejected the motion. He glanced over at you for just a moment before looking back down at the gas pump and shut his eyes. “That’d be great. I’m really exhausted.”

While you could believe that maybe Joel was just tired, there had to be more to the story. The way he rejected your subtle touch and the way he just couldn’t seem to meet your eyes told you that much. Perhaps you underestimated just how hurt he was by you not making plans with him, although it wasn’t like he’d reached out to you to set something up. In fact, the last time you heard from him was the night before the girls’ game following their team dinner.

“Of course. Go ahead and get back in the car, I can take everything from here.”

The rest of the ride wasn’t too long, but you were happy to contribute after asking for such a last minute favor. You drove straight to the grounds that the team was playing on that afternoon, as you were already pushing it on time, and certainly did not have time to go check into your hotel yet.

Your kids jogged off to greet their team and warm up with them, leaving you alone with Joel once again as you grabbed fold-out chairs from the back of his truck. 

“You feeling any better now after sleeping?” you asked, turning to look at him and inspect his face for any suspicious expressions.

“Yeah, definitely,” he affirmed, but his words didn’t exactly match what it was you had observed. He closed his trunk and began to walk away, and you followed after him, feeling a bit like a lost puppy.

“Joel, really. You can tell me what’s wrong,” you practically pleaded, part of you still waiting for the moment he would tell you off.

“I already told you,” his tone was defensive, and when he turned back to look at you, the agitation was clearly painted on his face. “Nothing is wrong.”

You were taken aback, but understood that you had crossed some sort of boundary in your continuous pressing of what was wrong. You felt more like a kicked puppy than a lost one as you walked out to the fields behind Joel, setting your chair up close to him, but with a little more distance between the two of you than what you would have preferred. 

You didn’t talk much during the game, outside of cheering for your daughters and momentarily celebrating when one of them pulled something impressive off. 

Although you didn’t interact much, it still felt nice to be back at a game after being gone for the past few weeks. And honestly, it felt even more nice to be back in Joel’s presence after those weeks, even if it was clear that something had shifted between the two of you. 

When the second game began, you were surprised to come back from your short leg-stretch walk to find another chair placed next to Joel’s—and a woman happily chatting his ear off.

A pang of jealousy struck your gut as you observed the two of them. It was no secret that most of the moms (and some of the dads) on the team (and other teams) saw the same things in Joel that you did. But you had absolutely no right to feel jealous, considering the way you’d basically led him on, and you had absolutely no reason to believe that there was anything romantic going on between them.

But you felt unwell anyway. 

You urged yourself not to look at them for too long, instead focusing on the game in front of you, but the sounds of their voices and the way their conversation easily flowed was far too distracting. Just the rotten cherry on top of an already shitty day. 

You felt ridiculous and childish sitting there with jealousy burning deeply in your stomach as you mentally ran through all of the things you could have done differently. Maybe if you’d texted Joel the night of your dinner and found a day where you both weren’t busy to go out together, or if you’d just said no to taking on a few extra hours, you’d be the one giggling and playing with your hair as you chatted up Joel.

It was official: you couldn’t torture yourself with staying one more moment with the two of them. Instead, you shot out of your uncomfortable little chair, and hauled your jealous little ass over to the concession stand. If you couldn’t go back in time and fix all the mistakes you’d made leading up to today, at least you could stuff your face full of peanut M&Ms until you felt better.  

As you focused on tearing the yellow plastic with a little more force than what was necessary, you completely missed Alice—one of the more gossipy mothers on the team—approaching you. 

“Hey babe,” she greeted cheerily. “We haven’t seen you in a few weeks. Where’ve you been?” 

Your mouth was currently filled with candy, so it took you a second to respond. “Work,” you said in between chewing. “I barely had time to breathe, let alone bring Chloe to her games, so I had to basically beg on my knees for a little help from her father. Speaking of which, how was Nathan?”

“Oh,” Alice paused and looked off to the side, a little too guiltily for your liking. “Yeah, he was fine.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, brows furrowed at her strange reaction. 

“Yeah! He was great. It’s just…” she trailed off and offered you an awkward smile. “We thought you two were maybe back together. You know, with the whole co-parenting thing.”

Your eye twitched. So the parents of the team were gossiping and theorizing about your love life. Great. That’s probably what was wrong with Joel—word had gotten back to him that you and Nathan were playing house again. No wonder he was putting such distance between you. 

“Babe,” you tried not to let the annoyance you were experiencing reflect too much into your tone, “why would you tell people we were back together? Bringing your own child to their sports events is not exactly groundbreaking or relationship material.”

You were now gritting your teeth as the irritation really started to sink in. Joel probably didn’t reach out to you for your date since these fucking real housewives you were surrounded by had decided to spread baseless rumors about you from the moment your ex had stepped onto the sideline. 

You were wrong. This was the rotten cherry on top of the absolute dogshit milkshake of a day you’d had. 

“I’m sorry,” Alice didn’t sound as remorseful as you wish she did. You knew that deep down, she was enjoying this little game and would be more than happy to spread this information back to her friends. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It’s fine, the damage is done,” you sighed, shoving a handful of candy in your mouth. 

“Have you seen Joel and Cindy, though? They’re so cute together!”

It was now clearer than ever that Alice was only interacting with you to stir the pot, so you simply put on the best fake smile you could muster and nodded. “Adorable. Now if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go sit back down. I haven’t seen Chloe play in a few weeks, and she was doing so well in the last game, I’m sure she’s doing great now too!”

You didn’t wait for a response before walking off, attempting to suppress all of the feelings you were having with this new information you’d been given. In the three weeks you’d been gone, Alice had convinced the team that you and Nathan were back together, and Joel had already moved on. If you hadn’t cared so much about Chloe’s passions, you would’ve had her quit on the spot. You simply could not handle any more of this soccer parent culture. 

Sitting back down in your seat, you offered Joel an M&M, to which he politely declined. You wondered if there was a way for you to casually explain that you and Nathan were not and would not ever be an item again, but then again, it seemed like with Cindy in the picture, the ship of making anything work with you two had sailed. 

You attempted to focus on your daughter, who unsurprisingly was doing quite well in the game. You were glad that no matter how shitty your day was turning out, your kin was at least having a better day—and having fun doing it.

You simply went through the motions through the rest of the day, squeezing your daughter tight with a hug when all of the games for the day were finished and telling Sarah about how great of a job she did, then falling back into a somewhat uncomfortable silence on your drive to the hotel. 

Checking in had proved to be… a bit of an odd situation. As you pocketed your room keys, Chloe made an odd offer—her and Sarah would share a room while you and Joel would share your own. 

It shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did when your daughters proposed that you and Joel share a room so that they could have a sleepover, but it caught you off guard regardless. 

You were hesitant for several obvious reasons, but their room was adjoined to yours, and there was a perfectly nice pull-out bed in the sofa, which meant there was absolutely no need to share a bed with Joel. After some consideration and discussion with the man who would be your roommate for the night, you ultimately settled on allowing it. You would take the sofa. Joel would take the bed.

Besides, it’s not like he’d be spending the majority of the night in the room. After a short conversation, he was getting dressed and going off to dinner with Cindy. 

You tried not to feel bad for yourself for too long. You’d already spent the majority of the day feeling bad for yourself, whether it was for the shitty situations you found yourself in, or the way the moms on your team treated your love life like their favorite reality show.

Knocking on the door adjacent to your own, you were happy to see Chloe crack open her door. 

“Hi girls,” you greeted. “What do you say to a pajama party?”

“Yes!” Chloe squealed, swinging her door wide open. Conveniently, they were already dressed the part, and were seemingly ready to wind down after a long day of physical activity. 

After ordering an absurd amount of room service and having nothing short of a feast with your favorite pre-teens, the three of you sat on the floor under a blanket fort you’d constructed as you played Uno with some random network romcom playing in the background. 

It felt like after a long day of holding your breath, you could finally let go of it, winding down with your two favorite children.

“Do you feel like you had a good day today?” you asked, placing a green three on top of the pile of cards. 

“Yeah! I missed having you and my dad together at our games,” Sarah remarked, drawing a card. 

Chloe nodded in agreement, setting down one of her own cards. “You really spice up our games. I think Joel yells a little louder at us when you’re here. He was pretty quiet when dad was bringing me.”

You tried not to let your emotions show on your face too much in front of the children, but it was undeniably sweet that you being around brightened Joel’s light, even now, when things were a little more awkward between the two of you. You simply hummed as you set down your card.

“Yeah, he kept asking me if I knew where you were,” Sarah drew a card then placed the card back down on the pile. “I think he missed you.”

So maybe Joel wasn’t as mad at you as you thought he was. Asking where you were had to be a good sign, right? Maybe it really just boiled down to him thinking you were back together with your ex-husband, and him not wanting to cross any boundaries. 

“I think you’re our good luck charm. Did you see how well we played today?” Chloe asked, discarding a card. “Uno.”

“I think you guys are just good,” you set down a card. “Uno.”

“I dunno, when you were gone we kept losing,” Sarah set down a skip, causing Chloe to exclaim in frustration. 

“Our friendship is over,” Chloe announced to Sarah for what must’ve been the third time that night. 

“Mean it this time?” she teased. 

“I swear!” the pair broke out into giggles as you set down your final card. 

“We need to team up on you! How is it that you keep winning?” Sarah asked, pointing an accusatory finger at you. 

“She’s a dirty cheater,” Chloe tutted. “Just ask her why we don’t play Monopoly anymore. Right, mom?”

“Hey!” you exclaimed. “It was a rough patch. I keep winning Uno because you two keep targeting each other. What happened to team work?”

“No such thing in Uno,” Sarah shrugged. 

You laughed aloud, feeling some of your stress melting away with the motion, “you guys are too funny.”

Chloe yawned and reached for the pile in the middle of your little circle. “You can’t compliment your way out of this, cheater.”

“Ugh, whatever. I didn’t realize I raised such a sore loser.”

“Takes one to know one!” Chloe jeered. 

“Sure,” you chuckled. “Well, I think it's this cheater’s bedtime. Can I help you guys undo the pillow fort?”

The girls agreed, and you helped take down the mess of blankets, chairs, and pillows as they began to wind down and settle into bed.

“Goodnight, girls,” you bid farewell as you approached the adjoining door. “If you need anything, just come on over, okay? Sweet dreams,” you blew kisses to both of them before going back over to your side of the room.

When you made it back to your room, Joel was already in bed, the soft light of the television illuminating his face in the otherwise dark room. The light from the screen and his pajamas were doing him all sorts of favors, making him look like he walked straight out of your domestic fantasy. 

“When did you get back?” you asked as you grabbed your phone charger from your bag and approached the pull-out bed. 

“Like, an hour ago,” he shrugged, leaning back against the headboard. 

“You should’ve come over and played Uno with us,” you suggested, attempting to get cozy in your makeshift bed as you pulled the threadbare hotel blanket over your legs. “We had a little fort and everything.”

“Didn’t wanna intrude on your girls’ night,” he mumbled sleepily, hugging a pillow as he adjusted himself in bed.

“We would’ve been happy to have you,” you muttered, trying your best to relax in the rather uncomfortable makeshift bed.

Joel simply grunted in response, his eyes now shut. You could only assume that sleep set in quickly, and you’d now lost him to dreamland.  

You stared up at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. Part of you wished that this whole day was just an awful dream, and that you’d wake up the morning after the team dinner at Joel’s house, able to do everything all over again. 

Rolling onto your side, you hoped that the shitty pull-out bed would become even slightly more comfortable, but your hope was to no avail. You sighed softly and closed your eyes, wondering if you started counting sheep, if it’d be any easier to fall asleep.

About fifteen sheep in, Joel’s soft voice calling your name pulled you out of whatever sleepy daze you’d been in. 

“Hey, are you sleeping yet?” he practically whispered. 

“No,” you responded, voice far above a whisper. “The floor would probably be more comfortable than this.”

“I told you you shouldn’t have taken the pull-out bed,” he goaded.

“You wanna get down here and sleep on it for me?”

“No. Well… Would it help you sleep better?”

“Joel,” you huffed.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” you listened as the bedsheets began to rustle.

“No, no, don’t do that. Your body needs an actual bed after all that hard manual labor you do. Lay back down.”

“Not if you can’t fall asleep because of that shitty bed. Trust me, I’ve slept in worse conditions.”

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. Now I’m going to sleep. Goodnight.”

Joel paused for a second, and you assumed he’d finally given up. Good.

Until he called your name once again. “Come up here and get a good night’s rest.”

“No,” you argued, though your sleepy brain was practically begging you to move to the comfier location. “You need it more than me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You snickered, “whatever you want it to mean.”

Silence on his end once again. Time to start herding your sheep. 

“Why don’t we just share? There’s probably room for three of me on this bed.”

A bold proposition from a man who got back from a date only a few hours ago. A bold proposition that you were probably a bit too enthusiastic to take. 

“Fine,” you huffed. “Only to get you off my ass.”

Every part of your body was thanking you as you slipped out of the shitty couch-bed and padded over to the empty side of the real bed. Tentatively, you got in bed and under the sheets, making sure to keep yourself on your side and keeping your back facing his.

“Goodnight, Joel.” you finally whispered. 

“Goodnight,” he softly said your name, and you imagined the look on his face. Maybe in a different world, one where you’d gone on a date with him when the offer was on the table, you’d be in bed with him without the argument, with his arm wrapped around your waist as he wrapped you in a warm embrace, or with him hovering above you as you attempted to keep quiet in a hotel filled with guests who were more than willing to speculate about you.

It was nice to have someone in bed with you again. Even if all you had was the heat radiating off of the man next to you, and the sound of his deep breaths as he fell deeper and deeper into sleep. Despite all that had gone wrong in the day, and whatever Joel’s situation was with his date, somehow laying in bed with someone else made you feel at ease.

You didn’t have to count any more sheep to fall asleep that night. 

When you woke up, Joel was already out of bed, pulling on a hat and slipping on his shoes. “Oh good, you’re awake,” he commented as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. “Wanna get complimentary breakfast before it goes away?”

You stretched out as you listened to the proposition, wondering if the phantom feeling of an arm around your waist during the night was real or just a dream. “You know me so well.”

Somehow, the tension between the two of you didn’t feel so heavy that morning. Maybe sleeping in bed together had helped to break the ice, or maybe some other variable was at play. Regardless, you were happy to feel like your relationship had gone back to what it had been a month ago, even if Joel really was beginning to form something with Cindy. 

The hotel lobby wasn’t too busy when you and Joel went down. You were certainly grateful, as the fact that you had just rolled out of bed and gone to breakfast was more than obvious to anyone who’d looked at you for more than two seconds. 

You were stirring endless circles into your coffee when Joel sat down across from you, sighing as he leaned back into his chair. 

“Sleep well?” he asked before taking a hearty sip of his own coffee. 

You held back a laugh and exchanged it for the slightest hint of a smile. If only he knew just how well you slept. “I guess,” you admitted. “I always sleep well in hotel beds.”

You were completely uncertain of how to address the bed-sized elephant in the room, or if it was even a good idea to do so. But the lack of coffee in your system and the remnants of sleep clouding your brain had lowered your inhibitions significantly, causing the next words to tumble out of your mouth. 

“Thank you for letting me join you,” you involuntarily held your breath after saying so, too afraid to openly wait for his reaction. 

“Of course,” he hummed, beginning to stab at some of the food on his plate. “I couldn’t just let you break your back on that couch-bed.”

“Well I appreciate it,” you began to pick at some of your own food, the two of you falling into a far more comfortable silence. Obviously something had shifted between the time of the game and now, but you couldn’t quite place it. Since you were already in the mood to address elephants in the room, you had no issue blurting, “How was your date last night?”

“Date?” Joel looked up from his scrambled eggs with a furrowed brow. 

“With Cindy? From the other team?” you took a bite of toast and didn’t back down from the loaded eye contact going on between the two of you.

“Well, it wasn’t a date. Cindy’s married. Happily, I might add. Just catching up with a family friend.”

You were slightly taken aback, but not necessarily in a bad way. Suddenly, you felt silly for all the energy you’d wasted the day prior feeling jealous and bad for yourself, when you didn’t even know the full story.

“Well, what about Nathan? Is he a family friend?” it came out defensive, and you couldn’t particularly blame him for it. Finally some proof that this was what that weird tension had been all about. 

Maybe if your mind was slightly more clear, you’d find it cute that you were both a little jealous over each other. Maybe you really hadn’t thrown away your chance at this thing the way you’d thought you did.  

“No! I told you, I’ve been swamped with work. Like, getting home so late that I only see Chloe in the mornings and when I tuck her into bed, late. She needed to go to her games, and I knew there was only one person I could possibly guilt trip into bringing her. But I would rather marry the actual incarnation of Satan himself before spending another day with her father.”

“Oh,” Joel said quietly, lifting his disposable cup to his lips and seeming rather deep in thought.

“But you thought I was with him this whole time?”

“I guess?”

“And you still invited me into your bed?” you pressed, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“There was nothing inherently romantic or… sexual about that. I just didn’t want you to wake up in pain,” he set down his cup, but continued staring you down.

You shrugged. Solid answer, although you certainly wouldn’t be opposed to either alternative scenarios. 

“But even if there was, it’s only because you deserve better than that man. And from what I’ve seen, pretty much any man is better than him.”

“Including you?” you pressed. 

“What do you think?” the little smirk he was obviously trying to fight only egged you on. 

“I think I agree with you. Except, I don’t love that you just assumed something about my relationship status because one of those human rumor mills told you it. Next time, you wait until you hear it from me, okay?”

“I normally would’ve, I guess I’m just so used to things not working out with me, my brain was just looking for a reason why this wouldn’t work out either.”

“To be fair, not contacting you after saying I’d go out with you is pretty solid grounds for thinking we wouldn’t work out. But at least let me take you on a date before we try to figure out if we’ll work out or not.”

“You still want to go on that date?” Joel asked, sounding more astonished than you would’ve expected. 

“What do you think?” you winked, tossing his words right back at him. 

Just as your exchange began to wrap up, you were joined by two sleepy kids, who most certainly heard part of your conversation about going on a date. You couldn’t even bother with feeling mortified, too high on the knowledge that you had yet another shot with Joel. 

“How was your sleepover?” you asked the girls without missing a beat. 

“Fun. We missed you, though,” Chloe sighed as she buttered up a bagel. 

“Yeah, Uno’s not the same without you,” Sarah added as she began to cut up her pancakes. 

“I’m flattered, girls. We’ll have to have an Uno tournament sometime and get Joel on it too. Mostly so he can witness me beating everyone’s ass at it.”

“Language, mom. And we all know you’re a cheater.”

“Keep telling yourself that, sweetie.”

“I don’t know, I kinda believe it,” Joel teased. 

“Not you too, Joel! You’re supposed to be on my side,” you laughed. 

Your table fell into comfortable conversation for the rest of breakfast before you had to send the girls off to go get ready for their games. You almost wanted to pinch yourself to check if you were still dreaming after waking up in this domestic paradise following the terrible day you’d had yesterday, but even if it was a dream, you weren’t sure you wanted to wake up.

The rest of the tournament went smoothly, with the ice sufficiently broken between you and Joel, and you even joining in on his conversations with Cindy as the three of you sat together. The girls’ team ultimately won, leading to some very happy passengers as you drove back home. As you exited Joel’s car, you gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and a whispered promise of going out with him soon. To think, when you’d started your weekend, you never would have believed it would end in this manner. 

——

“Mom, hurry!” Chloe yelled up the stairs at you, sounding a little more impatient than what you would’ve liked. 

You could understand where she was coming from. Following the end of the soccer season, Joel had been quite busy, and Chloe hadn’t been able to see her closest friend outside of school hours for quite some time. If you were Chloe, you’d probably be anxious to see Sarah too.

Hurrying down the stairs with a newfound sense of urgency, you gave your daughter a little side hug. 

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” you apologized, understanding her urgency a little too well.

“Don’t be sorry. Just be efficient,” she pulled away from you and checked out your clothing. Sure, it was 6 PM and you were already in your pajamas. Sue you for wanting to come back home after a long day at work and put on your softest cat-printed pajama pants. “That’s a good outfit.”

“Oh, thank you. I was actually invited to Paris Fashion Week, but-“

“You can tell me in the car!” she exclaimed as she scurried off, with you following behind the little slippery bastard. 

In the car, Chloe seemed to be acting a little… suspicious. Although, you didn’t pay much mind to it, making small talk on the short drive over to her friend’s house. Her friend whose father you still hadn’t found time to go out with. 

“Oh yeah, being here reminded me that Joel had something to tell you,” Chloe announced as you pulled into their driveway. “Come in with me?”

By now, you were slightly suspicious, but the idea of having some sort of confrontation by Joel about you not following through on your word once again overrode your suspicions of your child. 

As Chloe rang the doorbell, Sarah swung the door open, smiling at her friend, then up at you. 

“Hi, come on in!” she said sweetly, opening the door all the way and leading you inside. 

As you walked in, your eyes caught on a makeshift pillow fort—one that oddly resembled the one you’d helped the girls make during their tournament. Cute.

“My dad’s inside. He wants to talk to you. See you later, bye!” Sarah talked quickly, and even quicker than her speech, she disappeared up the stairs with your daughter.

Something was definitely up.

You approached the fort with trepidation, and slowly pulled up a flap, where you found Joel dressed similarly to you in a loose shirt and plaid pajama pants, comfortably splayed out on his back while he seemed to be playing Candy Crush on his phone. 

“Oh, hey,” you said awkwardly. “The girls said you wanted to talk to me?” 

“Oh, hey,” he parroted back, seeming even more taken aback by your presence as he immediately sat up. “Uh, I actually didn’t know you were coming over?”

Oh.

It was always something with your kids. They knew how to scheme, and they knew how to scheme well.

“That’s fine,” you laughed to yourself about the situation. “I was gonna head out anyway. It was good to see you, and for the record, you clean up pretty well,” you teased, alluding to your similar mid-evening pajamas. 

“Wait!” he said quickly, nearly cutting you off. “Sorry, wait. Don’t go yet. Unless you have somewhere else to be…?”

You shook your head and shrugged. 

“I mean, obviously our kids set us up again, but we also haven’t followed through on that date yet. So maybe we can do it now?”

“Maybe,” you hummed as you sat down next to him on a mountain of pillows. “What would you want to do?” you asked, gently tapping his leg with your fuzzy-sock clad foot. (Chloe didn’t need to know that what was taking you so long was finding these god-forsaken socks.)

“Well, I’ve been wanting to take you out to some snobby, fancy restaurant,” he began. 

“Oh?” you voiced, brows raised. 

“But I don’t really think that’s either of our speeds.”

“Agreed. I don’t know where you’re going with this, but I’m liking it so far.”

“We also probably shouldn’t leave the girls home alone at night,” he continued to think out loud, his soft eyes never leaving your own. You almost felt like you were caught in a trance by them. 

“So what do you suggest we do, Joel?” you asked. 

“Well, we have this wonderful pillow fort already at our disposal. Maybe we can order some food and watch a movie?”

“I think sitting in a pillow fort while eating food and watching a movie is my love language. That sounds lovely.”

You two smiled at each other, and you could hear your heartbeat pound in your ears as a warm feeling filled your chest. It had been far too long since you’d felt any semblance of this feeling.

An abundance of Thai food and an argument over what movie to watch later, you were curled up like a cat beside Joel admiring the look of his face under the lighting of the fairy lights that were hung up throughout the little fort. 

“Ugh, why haven’t we done this sooner?” you asked, lifting your head out of the dip of his shoulder. 

“We’re both too busy,” he murmured, looking away from the television screen to look over at you. 

“I’ll literally take sick time off just to do this again,” you remarked. 

“I think that’s just the Thai food talking.”

“It was fucking amazing.”

“Told you.”

“But it’s not just the Thai food. I really like you a lot, Joel. I like spending time with you. I like talking to you and arguing about whether a shitty romcom or shitty action movie is better. I like doing mundane shit with you, like putting up fairy lights in a fort to enhance our ‘fort experience’. I like cuddling with you. Has anyone ever told you that you’re basically a human furnace? Anyway, I hate the fact that our daughters had to make an elaborate scheme just to get us together. I wanna make more time for you, because you deserve it. But like, only if you also wanna spend more time with me,” you confessed. 

“Of course I want to spend more time with you. And in the spirit of honesty, I really do have the time, sometimes. I guess I just worry that you wouldn’t want to spend your free time with me.”

“Joel, I would sit and watch paint dry on a wall if you were there with me. From the moment you entered my life, you’ve made everything a little better. If I have the time, I’m never gonna say no to being with you.”

He paused for a moment as he seemed to process that information, only coming back with a quiet, “Can I kiss you?”

You grabbed his cheeks and kissed him like no one you’d ever kissed before. It felt like the Fourth of July in your stomach as a moment you felt you’d been waiting for all your life finally came to fruition. 

By the time you pulled away, you were breathless and felt warm all over. You could go out on a limb and say that as far as dates go, this one was pretty successful, and to think, if it wasn’t for your daughters’ intervention, none of this would’ve happened. 

Yeah, you definitely needed to treat them to something.

[illvmii]

Home For The Weekend.

DBF!Miguel x FEM!Reader, NSFW!! READ WITH CAUTION!!

TAGS: DBF!Miguel, Nsfw, a little fluff ig, pining Miguel, I gave you good parents because you deserve it, oral (fem receiving), praise, p in v, unprotected (use protection gang), a little exhibisionism (people are in the house), Miguel is pretty soft in this one, LMK if I forgot anything

A/N: Because I had to swap accounts and all that, I decided to write smut as a sorry (cause I know that’s what most Miguel fans want LMFAO) so here you go!! It’s Dad’s best friend cause GODDD I love DBF Miguel lemme tell ya. Also not proof read (I’m really fucking tired rn I’ll proof read tmr probably)

You’ve been away from home for a good while at this point. Your college really wasn’t all that far away, but you’ve been so freaking busy it’s unbelievable. You called your parents at least three times a week, even at that point you were failing to do so. You were completely overwhelmed and it was awful.

But finally, finally you had a weekend where you were free. You didn’t have anything to do, so you decided to drive home and spend the weekend there. You knew your parents really missed you, so it was the best choice for all of you (plus you’d been killing to taste some of your moms cooking once again).

You had called your father to let him and your mom know you were coming, but were told a very interesting surprise. It was for sure a welcome one, though. Your father’s best bud, Miguel O’Hara, was staying with your parents for a week. Apparently the man’s house got termites which fucking blew chunks for him. But for you… well, aren’t you just lucky?

That man is HOT! We all know it, he’s absolutely stunning. So when you figured you’d be in the same house as him for a whole weekend, your entire stay seemed to get much more interesting.

Of course it was a ‘Look don’t touch’ scenario, you couldn’t even imagine the hell that would let loose if you made a hit on your dad’s best friend. You knew your father and Miguel were super close, they have been since you were a little girl. Miguel and your pops met when you were in third grade, because you were on your schools little soccer team. Miguel was the coach, since his own daughter Gabriella was on it.

You and Gabi actually became pretty good friends, still are to this day. She’s fun to be around and you text her whenever you have the chance. Of course she doesn’t know about the absolutely disgusting thoughts you have about her father on the lonelier nights. You think nobody but you really needs to know those. God forbid if your dad found out.

You haven’t seen Miguel in… what was it? Nearly three years at this point. He didn’t come around the house much after you turned 19 for some reason. Your dad and him always hung out at bars and such. So you haven’t seen him in a long time. The barbecues Miguel always had once a month were strangely on days you had told your dad you weren’t available, either. It’s very strange. You never have had the best of luck with men, so you just assume god is playing a cruel trick on you.

You eventually pulled into your childhood home driveway, the second you entered your mom pulls you to the side and presses kisses all over your face.

“Oh my gosh! It feels I haven’t seen my baby girl in ages! How have you been, honey?!”

Pressing a kiss to her cheek, you smile, “Been good. Busy, as I’ve said on our calls. But finally got some free time!”

Your mother grinned and pulled you into a hug, “I’m so glad your home, sweetheart. The house just isn’t the same without you here.”

“Dad already getting on your nerves, huh?” You snicker, hugging her back tightly.

Your mom chuckles and shakes her head, “He’s still the same ol’ grump. You should have heard him and Miguel when the soccer game was on… my goodness I was worried we were going to get a noise complaint.”

“Are they really that bad? Geez. I know Dad is bad, can’t imagine two of them.”

Your mother chuckles, “Your father is in the living room. Go say hi, hes been waiting for you all day.”

You give her a nod and walk off to the living room to greet your dad. He’s on the couch, so you plop down next to him. “Hey, Dad. How’s it hanging?”

He turns to look at you and bumps your shoulder with his, “There you are, squirt. Where you been for so long, huh? Outgrown us regular people now you’re a big shot at college?”

You smirk at his tease, “Don’t worry. I won’t forget about you. Least not yet.”

He flicks your forehead, chuckling to himself.

“Miguel is out in the pool. You should go say hi.”

Your face immediately heats up. He’s in the god damn pool?! With probably little shorts? Oh god…

You nod and stand from the couch and make your way to the pool. You slide the glass door to the patio open and dear god.

You see Miguel, hes swimming laps in the big pool. As long as you’ve known him, he’s worked out a bunch. No wonder he’s so fucking buff.

Stepping down into the patio area, you send him a wave, “Hey, Mr. O’Hara?”

He pauses his swimming and looks up at you. He flashes a smile, “My god, that you, pequeña?”

Miguel shakes his head to get the excess water out, swimming too the stairs of the pool to get out. You see now that yes, he is in little swim trunks.

He grabs his towel to wipe his extremely chiseled chest down. He smiles at you as he does, “How have you been, chica? I haven’t seen you for a while. Your dad sends me photos of you sometimes, but they really didn’t show off how much you’ve grown.”

You blush as he runs his eyes over you to really take in your growth. “I’ve been okay. College is keeping me busy. How about you? I’ve heard your house has termites.”

Miguel let’s out a loud groan, “Mhm. I could hear them in the walls at night, it was hell. At least they’re getting taken care of now, ‘Eh?”

“Yeah. I could imagine that would be hell,” You add on, not helping the conversation at all. You really couldn’t focus on conversing well. The man who has plagued your mind since you hit puberty is standing right in front of you, wet and in tiny shorts.

Miguel fully dries himself off, “I’ll go in and change, alright? Then we can talk some more.”

He walks off and you follow behind. You sit next to your dad in the living room and patiently (not at all patiently) wait for ‘Mr. O’Hara’.

Miguel walks into the living room wearing some loose shorts and a white t-shirt. He sits on a free chair and looks to your dad, “Man, look how big your girl is now! Can’t even believe it. Can’t believe how big my Gabi is, either.”

Your dad chuckles and groans, “I know, right? Time really flies when you get old.”

Miguel shoots you a smile, “I’m not that old, am I, cariño?”

You shake your head quickly, “Of course not.”

Your father chuckles, “You don’t gotta lie to Miguel, honey! Let him have it.”

Miguel leans forward to smack your father’s shoulder, “Ay! You aren’t young yourself.”

Your father and Miguel banter back and forth for a bit, before the soccer game starts out. They shut up immediately to watch, though once the plays start happening they shout at the TV like mad men. You chuckle whenever they do. It brought back memories of you and Gabriella having a play date and hearing them go nuts over the match in the other room.

After the match, it was dinner time, and holy fuck did it smell good. Your mother knew how to cook man, let me tell you.

You were sat in between your mom and Miguel. Your dad and the hunk were talking about the game, while your mother asked you questions about how college was going. You told her all about it, from the gossip to how the vending machine in the lobby stopped working again, which pissed you off to no end.

While you were talking and ranting about “those damn machines”, you felt a thigh press against yours. You glance down, seeing it was Miguel’s. Strange, because you didn’t remember his chair being this close. You shrug it off and keep talking to your mom.

After dinner you were stuffed, so you head up to your bedroom for the night. You were currently sitting on your old bed, snuggled up all nice and cozy while watching some YouTube. That was until the door creaked open. You figured your mom had done your laundry like the lovely lady she is, but indeed it was Miguel.

He stepped into the room with a soft smile, closing the door behind him, “Hey, pequeña.”

You sit up immediately at the sight of him, plucking your earbuds from your ears, “Hey, Mr. O’Hara. What do you need?”

Miguel sits himself on the edge of the bed, “You can just call me Miguel, sweetheart. Mr. O’Hara makes me feel ancient.”

“Alright, Miguel.” You smile, which makes him chuckle. He looks up at you and speaks;

“We haven’t had much time to speak one on one. I just wanted to catch up with you, hadn’t seen you in a while.”

You tilt your head endearingly, “Yeah, it has been a while. College has kept me from coming home, plus you and dad don’t hang out around the house as much as you used to.”

Miguel’s face actually pinks a little at the statement, to your bewilderment. He scratches his head, “Yeah. Just gettin’ out on the town as you kids say makes us feel young, I guess.”

Cuddling your blankets a bit closer to you, you grin at him, “You really aren’t that old. You had Gabriella decently young, right?”

“I guess so,” He shrugs, “It feels like forever ago, yet also yesterday. Can’t believe my flor pequeña is in college now.”

You nod, “Oh yeah, I can’t believe we’re in college either. Gabriella texts me all about her college days. She rants about her boyfriend constantly, she seems to really like him.”

Miguel groans, “Don’t even get me started on that boy. He is not worth my daughter, not even a little.”

You giggle at his protective nature. You’re positive that no matter who Gabriella dates, Miguel will never deem them as good enough for his daughter.

Miguel looks into your eyes, “So, you got a boyfriend, niña?”

“Oh, no. I haven’t really met the right person,” Which was a total lie, by the way. You’ve gone on dates and met super nice guys, but in your head you constantly compared them to your first crush ever, Miguel. They never shaped up, so it never went anywhere.

His eyes widen, “Really? You’re so beautiful now, I’d figure you’d have tons of boys chasing you.”

The statement makes you blush fiercely, “Ah, no.”

Miguel lets out a thoughtful sigh, “You really have grown into a lovely young woman, you know.”

You blush even harder, “Thank you, Mr. O’Hara.”

He places a hand on yours with a chuckle, “I told you, it’s Miguel.”

“Right. Sorry. Sorry,” You take some deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. Miguel sees this and smiles.

“Why so flustered, cariño? Is it because I called you beautiful?”

You end up covering your face to hide said blush from him. Geez, your heart could not take this right now. You were dressed in some baggy Spider-Man pajamas, yet he is calling you beautiful?

“I-I’m not…”

You can’t believe you’re stuttering. The things this man does to you is insane.

Miguel reached a hand forward to take your hands away from your face. He doesn’t remove it, though. He rests it on your cheek.

“Do you want to know why I stopped coming around your house?”

You nod, staring into his chocolate brown eyes.

“It’s because of your 19th birthday. Do you remember it?”

You think back to those years ago. It was a pretty fun party. You got a bunch of friends and family over and swam in your pool. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but just a fun time.

“Yeah. What about it? Did I do something?”

He chuckles and tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, “Nah. It’s just me. You… that day, do you remember what your swimsuit looked like?”

You think back again and blush. Not one of your smartest moments, buying a white swimsuit. It looked cute online, the thought of that it was supposed to go in water and get wet not really cementing itself in your head.

“Yeah…”

He nods and chuckles, “I saw you step out of the pool, and rushed over with a towel to cover you up. Remember? Sure, it was because I didn’t want you to expose yourself like that. However, I had a selfish reason.”

You look up and tilt your head a little.

“I didn’t want anyone else to see that part of you.”

“Huh?” Your brows furrow.

He smirks, “I was confused by the thought, too. I left right after the party and went to my house. I figured I’d stop having such strange thoughts after a day… but amor, I haven’t stopped thinking about you once.”

Your eyes widen, “Wh- Huh?”

“You’re so beautiful, I don’t think you understand. You grew into this woman who I admire, not just for your looks. You’re wonderful, absolutely wonderful. You’re kind, you’re thoughtful, you’re funny, you’re perfect. I can’t get you out of my damn head.”

You can’t manage to speak at this point. You stare up at the man in shock as he moves his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck.

“Please, let me kiss you, niña,” He basically begs, his eyes look full of desperation, “I’ve wanted to do it for years.”

You manage a tiny nod, so he rushes forward to kiss your lips. He holds you very close against him and kisses you hard. He lets out a groan at the contact. His tongue prods at your lips after a while and who are you to refuse such a man? You let him in, letting out a little groan of your own when he explores you.

After what felt like too short, you have to pull away to catch your breath. He doesn’t stop being on you, though. When you pant, he moves to kiss your jaw and neck.

You let out a little groan, “M-Miguel…”

“No good?” He speaks between kisses, “I’ve wanted to touch you for years, you don’t understand…”

You let out a little whimper, a god damn whimper.

“Please, let me touch you. Fuck, please,” He begs again. You manage a small nod once again. He dives back in to keep kissing your neck.

You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His hands move downwards towards your shirt. He tugs it over your head and moans. His hands immediately reach down to squeeze your tits, and you have to cover your mouth to keep your moans in.

He mumbles out a soft “Fuck…” when he uses his thumbs to glide over your nipples. After a few seconds, he leans down to press kisses all over your soft breasts. He still uses his hands to softly prod at them.

You let out a low whine and he looks up at you, “Be quiet, my girl. Can’t have anyone hearing you.”

You nod and keep covering your mouth as he leans down to keep pressing soft kisses to your chest. After a few moments, he tugs at your bottoms and looks up at you. You nod embarrassingly, and he takes them and your underpants off in one fell swoop.

You hear him audibly choke a breath, which makes you blush more. He manhandles you so your thighs rest on his shoulders, and just goes to town.

You let out a loud yelp when his tongue presses against your clit, so he reaches down and puts his fingers in your mouth to silence you. He keeps his mouth going, sucking on the bud to bring you pleasure.

Miguel pulls back with a long breath, “Tastes so good…”

You whimper against his fingers when he leans down to insert his tongue in you. You cry out as he holds nothing back, forcefully having his way with you.

His one hand that isn’t in your mouth is softly caressing your thigh, which is driving you crazy in its own right. It feels like everywhere he touches you is pure heaven.

Though that one hand leaves after a moment, instead he moves to insert a finger in you. You clamp down on his fingers, which makes him chuckle.

“Feel that good?”

Against his hand, you mumble, “Fingers so thick…”

He smirks and curls his index finger, making your hips buck up and you let out another whine. He can softly hear you beg for more.

He complies, of course. Hes waited for this for years, no way he won’t give his girl everything she wants.

He inserts another finger, moving them around a little until he eventually finds your most sensitive spot. He presses the pad of his fingers up against it suddenly, making you jerk and squirm around.

His mouth dives back down to suck on your clit, which drives you absolutely insane. His fingers in both your mouth and inside you, as well as his skilled mouth was far too much for one woman to handle.

Miguel looks over at one of the thighs placed on his shoulder, seeing it shiver and shake. He breaks away briefly, “Are you close already, amor? You’re so sensitive for me. Have you been wanting my touch too?”

You nod frantically when he lowers his head to your clit again. You cry out, “Uh-Huh! Y-You were my first crush!” Your words were mumbled against his fingers, but he understood them just fine.

He sucks on your clit hard and curls his fingers at the same time, which causes you to let out a moan and your thighs shake more. He breaks away,

“Look at me when you come. Look into my eyes as I make you come. You understand?”

You nod and keep eye contact with him as he inserts a third finger, pressing over and over to your g-spot. He uses his tongue to swirl around your inflated bud at the same time.

His gaze, his mouth, his fingers, it was all far too much. After one harsh suck, you came with a muffled shout.

Miguel drank it all up immediately, seemingly absolutely satisfied to be covered in your juices.

He lets you catch your breath and removes his fingers from your mouth. He also lowers your hips back to the bed, being delicate as he does so he doesn’t hurt you. You were panting very harshly, still coming down from your high.

Everything was a bit fuzzy at the moment. Though you refocused a few seconds later- holy shit.

His shorts have been discarded, along with his shirt. He was naked just as you were, and god damn was he big.

He leans down to press a kiss to your stomach, “You think you can go again? Can you take me, pretty girl?”

You try and speak only to realize that you, in fact, can’t. You settle for a thumbs up, which just makes him laugh softly.

He gives you a few more seconds before aligning himself up with your pretty pussy, pushing himself in agonizingly slow.

You let out another moan, so he quickly puts his fingers in your mouth again to keep you quiet. He really, really did not need your parents who were down in the living room to hear this.

He kept pushing himself in, holding his own groans back. He’d used his hand and imagined how you’d feel in the past, but it was nothing like this. This was perfect.

Once he was in as far as he could go, he stopped and let you get comfortable. Of course it was a battle for him, he was fighting his primal instincts to just take your hard and fast.

You keep letting out the most adorable little whimpers, which even though he’s currently fucking you, make Miguel’s heart melt.

You hum against his fingers, “Ready…”

He nods and begins to move very slowly. He focuses on your face as he watches it contort and squeeze with his movements. You were so pretty when you were experiencing such pleasure, he thought.

He whispers, “Good job, pequeña. Such a good girl for me.”

The praise makes you bite down on his fingers a little. Your hands travel upwards to scratch on his back, too. It was taking all your willpower to not be loud.

He moves a little faster, leaning down to kiss you as he does. He keeps mumbling “My pretty girl” And “So perfect, just for me” as he increases his speed.

He knows he isn’t going to last long. He’s been dreaming about you for years at this point.

He begins to sweat as his hips snap against yours. His free hand moves down to rub on your already abused clit. You grunt on his fingers, pursing your lips against them.

“You gonna come for me again, amor? Come on my cock. Can you do that for me?” He speaks very softly. Both to keep it down, but to also be intimate with you.

You breathe heavily as you feel him pound into you. You can feel tears brimming at your eyes from the sensation.

He licks his thumb and places it back down on your clit, rubbing circles over and over again. At the same time, his hips were slamming against yours. Soon enough, you reached a second orgasm. He let out a moan that was nearly too loud when you did. The sensation was his end, because a few thrusts later he pulled out and came on your stomach.

You and him sat there, panting like you’d just ran a damn marathon. Though after a few minutes, Miguel stands and walks over to your nightstand to get the wipes there. He begins to wipe you of his cum and your sweat, cleaning you off so you can sleep comfortably.

You were so fucking exhausted it was insane. You could barely register as he carefully slid your pajamas back onto you, then changed back into his own clothes.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, “If I could sleep in here, I would.”

“Mhm…” You mumble, a little upset he wouldn’t be cuddling you to sleep. But you obviously understood his reasoning.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips,

“Let’s do this again sometime, pequeña.”

Hope you enjoyed you rabid Miguel fans!! Feedback is always welcome. I used spanishdict so please correct any mistakes you see. Reqs open too!!

This was my first time posting anything NSFW on any site ever so I’m sorry if it’s bad LOL

Don’t repost or claim as or own and all that stuff please!! ❤️❤️

[divinesolas]

i just found out my boyfriend is a werewolf?!?!

summary: You overhear a super strange conversation between your long term boyfriend and brother.

r.q: hiii :) i LOVE your blog and fics and was wondering if you would consider writing a fic were jace is a werewolf. I don't have any particular trops in mind, ill let your Imagination run free. love you and take care 💞🫶🏻

w.c: 1.5k

cw: modern/supernatural (not the show) au, college cregan and jace, cregan’s twin!reader gn!reader, werewolf! cregan and jace, sort of a crack fic idk but not really, cliche werewolf i didnt try to do anything crazy with it, semi dialogue heavy, idk this ones just a fluff stupid fic

a.n: needed a cleanser from my longer fic so take this !! i tried to have fun with this and didn’t want to take it too seriously so i hope you guys like it!! LOVE UUU

Its been a week since you’ve spoken to your boyfriend. Its not your fault. What are you supposed to do when you overhear a conversation like that?

About a week ago you had gotten out of class early and you knew jacaerys was at your brothers place so you decided to pick up lunch for all three of you to surprise them. You try your best to quietly open the door and step in, opening your mouth to call to them but you shut your mouth quickly hearing your boyfriend Jace.

“You can’t tell them.” This has you curious but more so a little angry. you didn’t peg jacaerys for the type to do shit behind your back but you never really know. So you instead quickly move to stand hidden from view to listen to them.

“You can’t hide this type of thing from them man, what the hell are they gonna think when they find out.”

“they won’t”

You hear your brother let out a big groan, “They needs to know Jace they’re my fucking family im not gonna let you play around with them.”

Jacaerys voice changes and he starts to sound more angry, “You know im completely serious about them cre.”

“Then tell them you're a fucking werewolf.”

*……..*

*……..*

*…….*

*What?*

What the hell we’re they talking about? Werewolves? is this some type of sigma male podcast shit? or is he like into abo? You don’t understand.

“You haven’t told them you're a werewolf either cre.”

*WHAT?*

You almost pop your head around the corner to ask them what the fuck they we’re talking about because you could not wrap your head around what they were talking about? Werewolves aren’t real. Maybe they heard you enter and we’re trying to play a prank on you.

“You know i plan to you piece of shit.”

“Then don’t get on my ass about not telling them yet.”

“fine. but once i tell them you have to tell them man, i don’t like you keeping them in the dark.”

“i will i will i swear. You got a cover for this Friday?”

“Camping trip. Already let them know. Fuck i hate full moons man.” you do remember cregan telling you they we’re planning on going out for the whole weekend on a camping trip. You don’t like camping so you said no when he asked if you wanted to come, you thought he had a weird face on after you said no but now you’re thinking it was a face of relief.

They seemingly switch topic talking about what they were planning on eating and you look back at your car you can see from the window and remember you left the food in there. You can’t just enter now?! you have to leave, so once again you slowly leave the house praying that they had no clue you were there. You get back to your car and take your food from the bag before you walk the takeout bag to the door and leave it at the doorstep before running back to your car and driving off.

You only pull out your phone to text them you left them food but couldn’t stay to eat since you had a project to work on before you throw your phone to the back seat and let out a shaky breath. They had to be fucking kidding right? but for some odd reason it all made sense. Every month, and based on your calendar it always landed on a full moon, your brother and your boyfriend always happened to be busy and couldn’t be around.

Both of them are oddly strong, Your boyfriend often joked that he could smell you from a mile away when you asked why he never jumped when you tried to surprise him. when you went out to dinner with him on your first date you thought he would be a pretentious prick when he ordered a very rare steak but he just laughed it off nervously and told you that's just how he likes it. The more and more you think about him and his odd habits you come to agree with the disturbing realization.

He was a fucking werewolf.

It was easy to avoid the two of them for the first couple days. you had your own apartment so you didn't have any reason to have to go to your brothers but jacaerys was a lot harder to avoid. He would text you all the time asking if you wanted to hang or if you were free to go out with him and you feel really bad whenever you would say no or leave his messages unanswered. It was the worst when yesterday he had come knocking at your door. You didn't open it. Too nervous to face him. Your heart broke when you hear his dejected sigh before he walked away.

Today however he had not texted you at all. you begin to worry. You don’t want to break up with him. You love him, but you're not exactly sure how to approach all this. You can’t just ask reddit, hey, what do i do when i find out my boyfriend of two years is a fucking werewolf??? but you couldn’t sit still during class, Why hadn’t he reached out? he always says good morning but it was well into late afternoon and he still has not said a word to you.

You’re not paying attention when you leave class and end up running into somebody. Apologizing before you take a step back and freeze. “Jace.” He lets out a smile and a nervous breathy laugh, “Hi baby.” You let out a hushed hi and his eyes dart all over your face with nervous. “Come.” You can’t reject him when he’s standing right in front of you, so when he grabs your hand you make no move to protest and let him lead you.

Soon enough your following him to the park and gasp when you see a set up picnic table, he turns to you nervously. “You’ve been busy recently and we haven’t spent a lot of time together-” You cup his cheeks and press a kiss against his lips pulling away and giving him a big smile. All the past days worried washed away from you as you admire you cute boyfriend. “I love it.” He grins and pressed a peck to your lips as leads you two to sit down on the bench side by side, he’s always preferred to sit next to you than across from you.

You can tell that all the food inside the basket is store bought but it doesn’t matter, he’s never been much of a cook anyway. After awhile you had even forgotten why you hadn’t seen him until he quiets down and looks at you. “are we good?”

“are you a fucking werewolf?”

He freezes. You hadn’t meant it for it to come out like that but how else do you word asking him something like this? “its just i heard you and cregan have this really weird convo and i started to think about it and it made sense, i don't know im sorry i just-” he shushes you lightly and cups you cheeks turning your head towards him. “I am. and im sorry i never told you, i should have i know but its a difficult thing to bring up.”

You just nod your head lightly and sigh. “Werewolves are fucking real.” He laughs, “Yes.” “is it like twilight?” “no.” “you didn't put like a mark on me?” “is that a twilight thing?” “Youve never seen it?” “i don’t watch things with wolves in them it gives me the ick.” “we need to watch them.” “are you even listening to me?” “oh oh is it like teen wolf?” “absolutely not.” “ugh wait you’ve seen teen wolf?” “baela forced me to watch it.” “is baela a werewolf?” “no a witch.” “ughh lucky i would love to be a witch.”

“You believe me?” You tilt your head at him, “Why wouldn’t i? don’t tell me your lying to me.” he shakes his head as he smiles at you, “No no its just, i didn’t think this would go over so well.” You give him another peck on the lips, “I just wish you told me sooner, asshole. and i wanna know how all this shit works.” “deal.” You two share another kiss and press your foreheads against each other.

“So if cregans a werewolf then why am i not?”

“Wait you know cregans a werewolf?”

—

a.n i realized its a little weird that they didn’t notice you were there because they have a good sense of smell but im just thinking they were too lost in the conversation or you are over to cregans place often enough that his place smells like you. whatever ! idk!

perm jacaerys taglist: <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife

[dazed--xx]

SKZ reaction: S/O has childhood trauma (Hyung Line)

T/W: mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of bullying, mentions of abandonment, mentions of dead best friend, mentions of neglect, arguments, crying etc…

A/N: I’ll be posting the rest of the members soon then I will be posting the Jeongin angst request next then chapter 2 of one more time then I’ll start posting Cardinal, thank you so much for the support and requests are open

Chan: school bullying

“I JUST DON’T GET YOU!!” He shouted, veins popping out of his neck as he stared at you in anger. Your bottom lip trembled between your teeth as you held onto your weak figure. You couldn’t even figure out what set Chan off, but he was utterly pissed. “Chan what are you talking about? That’s all I’ve been trying to figure out why are you yelling at me?” You exclaim after 30 minutes of his ranting your voice shaky, eyes burning from tears as your boyfriend spewed venom in your direction about how inconsiderate and disrespectful you are. He growls as he pulls a magazine out from the coffee table you had never noticed he had placed there. “Stray Kids Chan GF sends threatening messages to old schoolmates?!” The headline reads. Your eyes widen in shock “C-Chan I can explain this!” You defend yourself. “Explain? How the hell do you expect to explain this?! How can you justify any of this? You called my fan a hopeless despicable piece of crap and that she deserves the shitty life she lives now! How can you sit there and act like that’s not a problem!” He growled, tossing his phone across the room the case shattering as it hit the wall.

A panicked squeal is released from your throat as your hands cover your ears and you drop to the ground. You head shakes rapidly as you stared at your boyfriend. “You’re irresponsible and completely fucking stupid to do something like this! What the hell went through your head?! Did you even think?” He continues, your anger bubbling up in your stomach as he continues to throw harsh insults toward you. “ITS WHAT SHE FUCKING DESERVED! HOW DARE SOMEONE THAT FUCKING TORTURED ME FOR YEARS!!! YEARS OF MY LIFE! SHE DESTROYED MY SELF ESTEEM, SHE HAD ME LOCKED IN A STORAGE CLOSET FOR A WHOLE WEEKEND! SHE CUT MY HAIR AND MY ARMS AND THEN TOLD THE COUNSELORS I WAS SUICIDAL SO ID GET LOCKED IN A PSYCH WARD! SO YEAH, I FUCKING SAID WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED TO SAY WHEN SHE TEXTED ME ASKING ME FOR MONEY! MONEY TALKING ABOUT HOW MUCH I OWE HER MY LIFE BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO KILL ME BUT DIDN’T BECAUSE SHE FIGURED ID BE USEFUL LATER IN LIFE! SO, FUCK YOU BANG CHAN! YOU DIDN’T EVEN ASK ME WHAT HAPPENED! YOU DIDN’T CARE SO YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELF ALONG WITH YOUR LITTLE FAN THAT THREATENED ME AGAIN!” You snap, venom spewing toward him as he stood there his mouth hung open in shock as guilt filled his eyes. “Babe…” he called an apology on the tip of his tongue as he made his way across the room “I-I didn’t know—y-you never told me—I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry” he cried as you held your hand up toward him stopping his march in your direction “Please just…just give me a second I thought out of anyone in this world if anyone would understand anything it would be you but you didn’t even give me a chance to tell you what I did literally last night. And I just I can’t believe you would say those things about me please Chris just—just leave me alone for a bit” you explained tiredly as you made your way to your bedroom leaving your boyfriend in the living room with guilt plastered on his features and sadness in his heart.

Minho:death of best friend

“I-Is it nearby or do we have to keep going?” Minho questions, you could feel his nerves from beside him as you point to a small light a few yards away. “It’s at that light” you smile at him gripping his hand. You felt nervous, you’ve never brought anyone here, to your safe space. You stare at the man beside you, your heart races at how ethereal and beautiful he truly was. You’ve never known anyone so understanding, so deeply determined to get to know you for you. You couldn’t understand him at first but now as you stare at him you can. You can understand the want; the yearning feeling of wanting to know every single thing about someone you love. You’re pulled out of your thoughts as you feel Minho’s arm wrap around your shoulders pulling you into him. “You okay, precious?” He questions, concern laced in his tone as a pout form on his lips. You nod a small smile form on your lips “I’m okay…… just lucky to have you” you confess as your hand wraps around his pulling him toward your destination.

A small giggle is released from Minho’s lips as his legs speed up to keep up with your pace. Finally, you reach the small angel light seated on top of a marble headstone. Your smile grows wider as Minho kneels in-front of the stone placing a page of sheet music, “your song is beautiful” he states “I hope you don’t mind that you don’t mind that I sang it to Y/N, so she’d go out with me. It really spoke to me and explained how I feel about her.” He apologizes softly. “O-Oh! I’m Lee Minho, I forgot to tell you who I am.” You stare at your best friend's grave. “He’d be happy you came honestly I talk about you all the time.” You confess. “Is it inappropriate for me to ask where his family is?” Minho questions. “His mother still comes to see him every day. His dad can’t.” You explain, as you look at your boyfriend “too much guilt, me and his dad were the ones that found him” Minhos eyebrows scrunch together in confusion “H-how did you say he died again?” You shook your head “I didn’t. He committed…you know when we were 14. He had gotten into this huge fight with his dad about wanting to go to a music high school and came to my house crying when his parents showed up to my place he just disappeared, and we found him a week later in our clubhouse in my backyard. I could have sworn I checked there every day until we found him but yeah.”

You feel a strong hand gripping yours as you eye your boyfriend “I’ll make sure she’s okay. She’s going to be okay with me, so I’ll come see you again. And if you want, I’ll make sure your music gets heard. I-I’m an idol I can do that for you, my leader Chan really liked your song. We’ll make sure you’re not forgotten.” He states to your friends' grave as pride swells in your chest. “Thank you for coming with me” you state with a peck to his cheek. “Thanks for letting me” he beams at you.

Changbin: neglect

“I just don’t get why it’s such a big deal?” Changbin questions his tone laced with sadness as a sigh is released from your throat. “I just don’t like my family Bin, they’re not good people and to know that they tracked you down makes me extremely uncomfortable.” Your voice is shaky as the memories come flooding back into your brain. “What happened?” His voice is only barely above a whisper as he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you into his strong figure. “They’re just not good people. Please understand that at least.” You groan your hand rubbing against his forearms. “If you’re not ready to tell me that’s fine babe I just want to make sure they didn’t hurt you. T-they didn’t hurt you right?” He asks almost as if the answer would hurt him. The question left you puzzled. Did they hurt you……… Not physically, they’d have to actually be around for you to be physically hurt; no, you weren’t beaten by your parents. Sure, they rarely were home, but they never laid a hand on you. For a while you and your birth givers were quite…. cohesive. They’d leave enough food for you to make sure you didn’t die, nothing that was hugely sustainable, but you had been able to figure it out. From a young age, you knew how to shop for your own groceries, make money, apply for government assistance and just get by. You were sustainably independent all from the ripe age of 6 years old. Honestly you couldn’t for a moment remember a single conversation with your parents where you weren’t reminded of how unimportant you were in their lives.

You shook your head after some time. “Not physically no” your eyes drift to the ground. You feel your hair being brushed to the side as Changbin placed his chin on your shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to….” His grip on you tightens “I love you; you know that right?” You nod in response “I love you too, but I want to tell you. They just didn’t really act like I existed; they made sure I had just enough food to not die but nothing enough to actually help me feel okay. When I turned 6, they just stopped coming home every night and I’d see them once a week maybe…. I don’t know I just—they made sure I knew that I was a mistake I guess and I just kind of figured everything out on my own.” You confess. Your head hung low as your boyfriend rubbed your hair. You could hear his breathing grow heavy as his grip on you tightens “well you’re not a mistake to me, I love you so much and I’m happy that I have you and you have me too, okay? I will never hurt you in anyway” he declares pressing his lips against the back of your head as you nuzzle against his strong frame.

Hyunjin: abandonment

“Come on! Please just talk to me” Hyunjin pleas behind your front door. You sat with your blood boiling; arms crossed over your chest at his nerve; the audacity of this man to have disappeared for 5 months only to try to saunter back into your life like nothing happened. The fact that he couldn’t answer your calls or texts nor the final voicemail you had left for him ending your 2-year relationship said everything about how he feels. You couldn’t for the life of you understand why he finally decided your presence was once again needed. The pounding on the door intensifies as your nerves grow weaker and weaker. With a growl to yourself you force yourself up from your seat in your couch and stomp your way over to your door, forcing it open so hard it almost comes off its hinges. “What?! What could you possibly want?!” You snap, you notice the guilt and sorrow all over his features. His lips formed into a pout as he reached out for you only for you to slap his hands away. “I asked you a question, Hyunjin” your eyes form into a scowl as you cross your arms over your chest as you glare at your ex. “Babe…come on—don’t call me that!” You growl.

The look on Hyunjins face is almost as heartbreaking as his abandonment. “W-what?! Babe please let’s just talk about this! I just heard your voicemail. I’m sorry I’m so sorry please I don’t want to break up!” He pleads upon deaf ears; you scoff in response “you should have thought about that before you disappeared for 5 months Hyunjin. Doing whatever the fuck you were doing!” “I WAS ON TOUR! You figured that out at some point, right?” He argues “yeah… through fucking dispatch I found out you were in America after 3 MONTHS! 3 MONTHS OF NO CLUE WHAT WAS GOING ON! 3 MONTHS OF COMPLETE AND UTTER CONFUSION HYUNJIN!!—Sshhh please don’t be so loud” he cuts you off gesturing you to go into your apartment, his hands firm on your waist shoving you softly back. Your hands find their way to his chest as you shove him out the door. “No! You don’t get to come in here! You don’t get to waltz back into my life after I’ve already became okay with you not being in it anymore! You’re just like my parents; you used me up until I had nothing left to offer you then you just tossed me to the side like I am nothing! Well, I do mean something, and you can’t just abandon me and then show up when it’s convenient for you! I’m tired of shit like that happening and I won’t allow YOU to do that to me!” You growl. Tears stream down Hyunjins face “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to. I-I know it doesn’t mean anything but please know I thought about you the whole time I begged my manager for a new phone so I could call you because I left mine here! Please don’t break up with me I want to be with you!” He cries as he dropped to his knees his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your stomach “I’d never abandon you! I could never abandon you I love you I love you so much please I didn’t know what your parents did I don’t want to leave. I’m sorry” you stared at the man whose heart lay on the floor. With gritted teeth you sigh “fine come inside but don’t think I’m not still mad at you” he nods quickly hoping to his feet before wrapping his hand around yours pulling you into his large frame. You feel butterflies as the familiar feeling of his soft plush lips connected with yours, putting every ounce of emotion into his kiss. Your cheeks grow a bright scarlet as he pulls away, a small smile creeps on your lips. “Still mad?” He questions jokingly. You scowl at him “don’t push it.”

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

loml

Request: absolutely need u to write a fic about roy kent’s controversially young ex gf writing so long, london about him and the teams reaction to the realization. happy ending or not 👀

Roy Kent x Popstar

1.7k words

Warnings: Language, angst, age gap, did I mention angst?

A/N: It's been a minute since I posted anything! This definitely put me deep in my feelings, not gonna lie. Enjoy all the emotions 😝

Roy clenched his jaw as he rounded the corner to head towards the changing room and his office. There wasn’t the usual ruckus that greeted him before training; instead, he followed the sound of what he realized was music. And it wasn’t the usual rap or energetic pop the lads usually blasted and sang along with, either. No, this was slow, haunting, something that left Roy tightening his grip around his black duffel bag.

Thinkin, how much sad did you think I had

Did you think I had in me?

Oh, the tragedy ...

So long, London

You'll find someone ...

The breath caught in Roy’s throat as he came to a skidding stop outside the changing room door. He knew that voice. He’d heard that voice humming in his kitchen. Giggling in his ear. Whispering into his chest. Sighing in his bed. For almost two years, that voice had filled his home and his heart, bringing warmth and joy to both places. And the lips that voice came from always formed the most beautiful smile, the smile he always wanted to kiss right off that pretty face- and fuck, he sure tried his best every chance he got.

Gritting his teeth, Roy took one step into the changing room, doing his best to ignore the immediate stares of his squad. He hated the looks on their faces, all filled with sympathy, reminding him way too much of the faces he saw after his retirement. He swore he saw guilt in some of their expressions, too.

Of course they felt guilty. They’d been caught listening to his ex-girlfriend’s new album. The album that had skyrocketed to the top of the charts since its release over the weekend. The album Roy couldn’t quite bring himself to listen to yet. The album, he knew, that she had written about him.

Refusing to meet anyone’s eye, Roy stalked into his office, closing the door firmly behind him. Beard and Nate were nowhere to be found; they were probably on the pitch, he reasoned. He ignored the feeling that they’d probably want to give him some space with the album’s release.

Everything had started off innocently enough. He’d taken Phoebe to one of her concerts, motivated purely by his desire to be a good uncle. Keeley had been kind enough to arrange a meet-and-greet before the show. And, while Pheebs was definitely thrilled to be meeting the popstar, it was Roy who was left completely starstruck. She was beautiful and charming, not to mention down-to-earth and so kind to his niece. He spent the whole concert enchanted, jaw slacking slightly as he watched her strut around the stage with a magnetism he wasn’t sure he’d ever encountered before.

Fuck the almost two decades between them; Roy Kent was smitten.

Apparently the feeling was mutual, because the next thing he knew he and Phoebe were invited backstage after the concert, where the young singer had shyly thanked them for coming and asked if she could come watch the Greyhounds sometime. She was so timid for someone who had just rocked a stadium filled to the brim with thousands of screaming fans; Roy found her bashful, blushing face nothing short of endearing. How could he ever say no to her?

So he didn't. For two years, he never said no to her. He wanted to adore and spoil her the way no one else ever had, and she let him. The only condition was he had to let her do the same. So, for the first time in goodness knows how long, Roy Kent let himself be loved.

It was perfect. She was perfect. Roy found himself laughing and smiling more than he ever had in his entire miserable life, and it was all her fault. Never mind the articles and tweets about their age difference, condemning him for being with what they called a “twenty-year-old girl”. (They never could differentiate between twenty and mid-twenties, Roy had thought as he rolled his eyes at yet another opinion piece about his relationship.) They had both agreed that the abundance of affection and respect between them was more than enough to ignore what she always called the “haters”, and he called “wankers with nothing better to do”.

After about a year together, Roy found himself thinking about houses. And rings. And babies. And forever. And less and less about their age difference. While he never said flat-out that he wanted to marry her, they both seemed to know where things were headed. And, thanks to her songwriting, so did her fans. Not that Roy minded; for once, he was in a relationship where he didn’t mind having his business paraded around for the world to see. Hell, he even did some of the parading from time to time.

But, like every other good thing in Roy Kent’s life, it didn’t last forever.

He could deal with the judgy headlines. He could deal with the invasive paparazzi. He could deal with the ribbing from his friends and family. He could even deal with being the subject of pretty love songs. But just as he was starting to look at engagement rings, an article came across his newsfeed. And this one, unlike the million others he’d ignored and rolled his eyes at, gave him pause.

It was about her. It was about how young she was, how in the prime of her career she was. About how Roy was going to tie her down and take her out of the spotlight. About how she could say goodbye to the already legendary career she’d spent the better part of a decade building. About how all that hard work, all that potential, would be swept away the moment he put a ring on her finger.

About how it would be all Roy’s fault.

He couldn’t do that. Not to her. So, he made up some shit about not being ready to settle down, about how he didn’t think marriage was for him, about how he didn’t want to waste her time. And she’d listened, with those understanding eyes and her mouth in a straight line. While she wasn’t afraid to shed a couple of tears in front of him, she didn’t shout or fight him. All she did was lean close and ask one little question:

“Are you sure?”

No. No, Roy wasn’t fucking sure. He had never been less sure in his entire fucking life. As she gathered her things in stony silence, Roy had to stop himself from telling her to stop, that he’d made a mistake and that of course he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. But, like the idiot he was, he just watched silently. And he watched as she disappeared from the public eye, as the papers reported their breakup, as she reemerged at the fabulous parties thrown by her fabulous friends, as her outings with various men sparked rumors of new romances; in short, Roy watched as she moved on from him.

And now, a little less than a year after their breakup, with the release of this new album, he was sure she’d cemented how over him she was.

Despite knowing he had a football team waiting out on the pitch, Roy decided he needed to listen. To one song, at least, he reasoned with himself as he opened the music app on his mobile. Beard and Nate could handle the team for a few minutes, couldn’t they?

As he skimmed the track titles, he spotted one that caught his eye: So Long, London. He’d heard that phrase in the song the guys were playing; surely this had to be the same song, right? With a trembling breath, he clicked on the song and closed his eyes.

I stopped trying to make him laugh.

I stopped CPR, after all it's no use. The spirit was gone, we would never come to.

And I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free.

I'll find someone.

Just how low did you think I'd go?

You swore that you loved me but where were the clues? I died on the altar waiting for the proof.

For so long, London… Had a good run… A moment of warm sun… But I'm not the one.

Every word stabbed at the heart Roy hadn’t realized was still so fucking raw. All that regret that he’d buried away under football and bottles of beer finally bubbled back to the surface, reminding him of how deeply he wished he could go back in time and stop himself from letting her go. He somehow felt even more gutted than he did the day he lied and said he didn’t want to be with her anymore.

“Fuck,” he growled, stopping the music and opening his texts. He typed that familiar name, pulling up texts that he hadn’t looked at in months. He gulped, remembering all the memes, all the texts about what to have for dinner.

She’d probably ignore his text, he warned himself as he started typing. Hell, she probably already had him blocked. Part of him hoped she did; it would be a lot better than the absolute dressing down he deserved after breaking her lovely heart.

Still. That stupid little part of him that was willing to admit that he was still completely in love with her emboldened him.

She’d always made fun of him for signing his texts, he recalled with a reflexive smirk. She’d made fun of him for lots of things; fuck, he missed her teasing, the way she’d raise an eyebrow when he growled at her to fuck off. The way she’d lean close and hum, “Make me.” The way-

Hey, just listened to ‘London’. Incredible as always. I’m sure the rest is too.

-Roy

The whistle from the mobile in his hand dragged Roy out of his reminiscing. With another gulp he looked down at the first message she’d sent in months.

Thanks, Roy! I’ll actually be in London next week. Maybe we could catch up while I’m in town.

Despite himself, a smile broke out across his face. He wasn’t much of a believer in second chances, or fate, or happily ever afters. He was so sure all good things had to come to an end eventually.

But maybe, just maybe, some things could begin again.

Tags: @i-am-mrsreckless

[venus-haze]

Working for the Knife (Mickey Altieri x Reader)

Summary: It’s been over 15 years since the Windsor College murders, not that they had ever been on your radar. That changes when you get hired at a New York marketing firm where you work closely with Mickey Altieri, alleged Ghostface killer whose charges were dropped after a controversial mistrial. Working so closely together piques your interest in each other, soon spiraling out of control. [This is an AU.]

Note: Female reader implied to be mid-20s or older, but no other descriptors are used. This is based on an anonymous request and also Timothy Olyphant being such a DILF, I had to write something like this (I had Justified era Olyphant in mind while writing this, specifically these gifsets, but you can picture whatever hehe). Creative liberties have obviously been taken. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: True crime elements (the reader engages with a lot of true crime content), but obviously this is a fictional serial killer. Mutual stalking/obsession. Sexually explicit content that includes dubious consent fantasy that involves knifeplay; spanking, daddy kink, oral sex (f. receiving). Do not interact if you’re under 18.

For once, you felt like things were going your way. After a little over three years of scraping by at your old job where you were woefully overworked and underpaid, your months-long job search finally came to an end when a mid-sized marketing firm gave you an offer you couldn’t refuse. Sure, you’d taken a huge pay raise and shifted to a hybrid schedule with your new job, but the highlight was undoubtedly Mickey, the only other person on your small team and the type of sexy older man you sure as hell didn’t mind spending your days in the office with.

With the whole company working hybrid or completely remote, people only came in sporadically, as did you and Mickey, only going in on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with the occasional Friday if needed. As a result, you didn’t get much of a chance to meet anyone else who worked there. 

Your first week was fully in person, since some of the programs you’d be using for the job were easier to learn if he were there to show you. You certainly weren’t complaining, having plenty of time to get a feel for your new coworker, silently observing and testing the waters with light flirting, which he seemed to return. Maybe you were just a little too hopeful.

“Big plans for the weekend?” you asked when five o’clock rolled around on Friday.

“Got a hot date with Netflix,” he said. “How about you?”

“My friend and I are getting drinks later, but that’s about it.”

“What’s your poison?”

“Anything under $10, if I can help it.”

He grinned. “A woman after my own heart. Don’t have too much fun.”

“I’ll try,” you said, smiling as you began packing your laptop into your bag. “Have a good weekend, Mickey.”

“You too.”

With your first week at your new gig down, you headed to a small bar in Flatbush to celebrate with your best friend and dish the highly anticipated dirt on your hot coworker. Lee was already at the bar when you’d arrived, sitting at a small table and sipping a beer she went ahead and bought herself.

“Drinks are on me,” you said. “I fucking owe you.”

Lee grinned. “Always glad to help.”

You wouldn’t have gotten the job without Lee. She helped you fudge your resume to match the experience on the job listing, gently scamming your way into the position you now held. All week you’d been texting her about how great things were going, and fawning over Mickey, of course.

After joking about ordering top-shelf liquor on your dime, Lee settled on a margarita, undoubtedly the first of many for the night. You returned from the bar with your drinks, more than ready to gush about how much better your new job was compared to the hell of your old one. Nothing could bring down your mood.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, they pay you out the ass and you don’t have to worry about health insurance anymore. Great,” Lee said over her margarita. “I wanna hear about your hot DILF coworker. No detail is too small.”

“Lee, oh my god, it’s not even fair how hot he is. Our desks are right next to each other in an L shape, and I feel like such a weirdo for staring at him all the time. He’s been so nice helping me all week, too. Maybe I’m looking too much into it, but sometimes I feel like he’s being a little flirty?”

“Is he married?”

“No ring, and no mention of any family or long-term relationship. I don’t get it, how could Mickey be single?”

“You don’t hear many people going by Mickey anymore,” she said. “Either he’s a mouse or incredibly Irish.”

“I think he’s Italian,” you mused. “Altieri sounds Italian to me.”

Lee’s eyes widened. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Wait, was that offensive?”

“No, just that you’re working with an alleged serial killer.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” you asked, but she was already busy typing away at her phone.

Suddenly, Lee’s phone was shoved in your face, a your hot coworker’s mugshot front and center in an archived New York Times article from October 1998.

SUSPECT ARRESTED IN WINDSOR COLLEGE KILLINGS

Michael ‘Mickey’ Altieri, 21, was arrested early Thursday morning in Windsor, Ohio, as the primary suspect in the Windsor College killings. Among the charges are first degree murder, attempted first degree murder and aggravated assault. Altieri has maintained his innocence and is being held on $1,000,000 bail in Windsor County Jail as he awaits trial. 

The brutal killings that made national headlines were directly inspired by the ‘Ghostface’ murders in Woodsboro, California, two years prior and coincided with the release of STAB, a film based on Woodsboro survivor and reporter Gale Weathers’ book on the murders. Survivor Sidney Prescott was a student at Windsor College and targeted yet again in the latest string of murders. Allegedly, Altieri’s accomplice was Debbie Loomis, mother of one of the two original Ghostface killers, Billy Loomis. Mrs. Loomis was killed in an altercation prior to Altieri’s apprehension by police.

You looked away from her phone screen, feeling like your head was spinning though you weren’t even finished with your first drink. “Well, if he did all that stuff, why isn’t he on death row or something?”

“There was a mistrial. It was a huge thing,” Lee said. “You’ve seriously never heard of it?”

“No. Can you send that to me?” you asked.

“Yeah, I’ll send some podcast episodes and Youtube videos on it, too. You know I’m on that true crime shit.”

It took a few more drinks for you to be able to shake off the thought of your hot older coworker potentially being a serial killer, but the rest of your night with Lee was a lot of fun. She’d been one of your closest friends in college, and the two of you lived together when you first moved to New York. You knew she meant well, but damn, did that news put a damper on things.

You returned to your apartment a little after midnight, kicking off your heels at the door and collapsing on your couch, not bothering to make the short walk to your bedroom. 17 missed texts from Lee, all links to videos and podcasts about Mickey that she recommended.

Among the links Lee had sent you was a nearly hour long Youtube video titled: ‘What Happened at the Windsor College Ghostface Trial? A Deep Dive’. The woman in the thumbnail had a scared expression on her face, her eyes focused on that same mugshot of Mickey you saw in the old New York Times article. 

Pressing on the link in your messages, you had the video come up on your TV instead, slouching back in your seat as it began to play.

‘I know most stuff about the Windsor College murders focus on just that, the murders, but I thought it’d be interesting to go into the trial that followed because it was almost like something out of a movie, but it doesn’t get as much attention as the killings, especially since there have been like two more Ghostface murder sprees since this happened. I’m just presenting facts and my own observations here for educational purposes, and it’s not my intention to imply guilt on anyone who hasn’t been convicted in a court of law. Before we get into it though, I wanna give a huge thank you to BetterHelp for sponsoring today’s video—‘

You rolled your eyes, skipping through the three-minute long sponsorship spiel.

‘So my sources for this video are Gale Weathers’ books Wrongly Accused: The Maureen Prescott Murder, The Woodsboro Murders, and College Terror. I also used James Chase’s book Ghostface on Trial, articles from newspapers and a few like lawyer journals that I was able to find online, and whatever stuff from the trial itself that’s public information. I have it all linked in the description—“

Pausing the video, you pulled up the New York Public Library website and searched for College Terror and Ghostface on Trial. Copies of both were available at the branch near your office, and you wasted no time in putting a hold on the books. 

The next few minutes of the video gave an overview of the murders at Windsor College, which you half-paid attention to. You’d watched Stab 2 in high school, so you felt you were familiar enough with the killings. Thinking back on the movie, though, all of the characters had the same names as their real-life counterparts except for Mickey. Legal reasons, you assumed.

You turned up the volume on your TV as the video finally got into the details of the trial.

‘As soon as Mickey was arrested, theories were all over the news about what had happened and there was a ton of speculation about his guilt. James Chase, a controversial defense attorney from Chicago, took on the case pro-bono, stating in his book Ghostface on Trial that he knew he stood to make more money on a book deal, interviews, and speaking engagements by winning the case than whatever fees he’d get for representing Mickey. The defense focused on discrediting both of the prosecution’s star witnesses early on in the trial, planting seeds of doubt in the jury.

Chase and his team leaned heavily on the fact that three years prior, Sidney Prescott had incorrectly identified Cotton Weary as her mother’s killer when in fact it was Sidney’s former boyfriend Billy Loomis and their mutual friend Stu Macher who had committed that initial murder that led up to the original Woodsboro Ghostface murders. 

Gale Weathers’ testimony was also discounted by the defense on the fact that she was a sensationalistic tabloid journalist who’d admittedly fabricated elements of her best-selling book on the Woodsboro killings. She claimed this was a result of editing and to achieve a better narrative flow. 

The defense also said the deceased Debbie Loomis had more of a reason to go after Sidney and recreate her son’s Ghostface murders as revenge for his death. They pushed the idea that she acted with Sidney’s boyfriend, Derek, and that Mickey ended up getting caught in the crosshairs of what was a gruesome and unfortunate situation. Sidney maintained Derek’s innocence, but the fact that both he and Debbie were killed by gunshot wounds made it likely they were the Ghostface duo this time around.

Former Woodsboro Deputy Dewey Riley, another survivor of both Ghostface killings, was unable to testify because he was in a coma. He later said that because he was incapacitated before Sidney and Gale allegedly confronted Debbie and Mickey, he couldn’t say for sure who the killer or killers were, but he trusted their judgment and stood behind their testimonies. 

It didn’t help either that Sidney was visibly distraught while on the stand and mixed up details of the original Woodsboro murders and the Windsor College ones. Gale was initially confident while being questioned by the defense, but later became combative when the inaccuracies in her books came up. In contrast, Mickey appeared calm and earnest, and seemed to have his story straight every time he took the stand.

There’s actually some footage of the trial that I was able to find, so I’m gonna play that now.’

The video was grainy, camera focused on an agitated-looking Sidney Prescott sitting in the witness stand. On the other side of the stand, a blond man in a gray suit read off from a stack of papers in his hand. 

“Ms. Prescott, in your statement to police, you claimed that Mr. Altieri admitted to both you and Ms. Weathers that he had committed the murders with Debbie Loomis and wanted to get caught. Could you perhaps explain to myself and the jury, why exactly an alleged killer would want to get caught?”

“Because he’s fucking sick in the head!” Sidney exclaimed.

“Language, Ms. Prescott,” Judge Matthews said.

“He said he did it on purpose,” Sidney continued, her voice breaking. “He told us he wanted to get caught so he could blame it on the movies! He had everything planned out, the lawyers he wanted, the angle the media would take, he even quoted that line from Psycho, ‘We all go a little mad sometimes.’”

Chase furrowed his brow as he looked over the papers in his hands. “When did he say this? I’m not seeing that in your statement.”

“He said it right after he shot Randy,“ Sidney said.

“Randy wasn’t shot, he was stabbed.” 

Sidney’s eyes widened. “I know. I meant—“

“Ms. Prescott, is there something you didn’t include in your police statement that you’re telling us now?”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “Billy quoted Psycho, after he shot Randy at Stu Macher’s house, not Mickey. I got mixed up.”

You gasped, bringing your hand to cover your mouth. The courtroom on your screen devolved into nothing short of pandemonium. The video then faded into Gale Weathers in the middle of being questioned by the defense. She, in contrast to Sidney, looked confident and well-put together under Chase’s grilling.

“Ms. Weathers, you wrote in your book that your camera man Kenny was gutted, when in actuality his throat was slashed, is that correct?”

Gale nodded. “It is.”

“Why the inconsistency?” 

“All books, fiction or nonfiction go through an editing process. That was a decision made by my editor to establish a better narrative flow. It isn’t uncommon in the true crime genre by any means.”

“Better narrative flow isn’t the truth, though, is it?” Chase asked.

“Look, a book is a book. I’ll say right now under oath that Kenny was killed when one of those guys in the Ghostface costume slit his throat. I’ll also say under oath that Mickey Altieri did commit those murders with Debbie Loomis, and he confessed it to me and Sidney Prescott.”

“Your honor, this isn’t the only major inconsistency we’ve found in Ms. Weathers’ book on the Woodsboro murders. Yesterday we distributed to the prosecution and now present to the jury at least seventeen of these major inconsistencies.”

“What do you want me to say? I’m the cheesy tabloid journalist everyone thinks I am?”

The corners of Chase’s lips twitched. “Not quite my words.”

“You’re a real piece of work,” Gale scoffed.

The jury murmured among themselves at her shift in attitude. You found yourself chewing on your nail, enraptured by the trial. For the last time, the video faded out and then back in to show Mickey, your coworker, sitting on the witness stand. This time, the prosecutor was in front of him, his annoyed expression a contrast to Mickey’s calm demeanor.

“Mr. Altieri, we have signed affidavits from several of your former classmates that in your film theory class, you claimed in a heated argument with Randy Meeks and CiCi Cooper, both of whom were killed by this ‘Ghostface’ persona of yours—“

“Objection!” Chase shouted. “Claiming the Ghostface persona belongs to Mr. Altieri is an undue presumption of guilt.”

“Sustained,” Judge Matthews said. “I advise you to reconsider your wording going forward, counselor.”

The prosecutor huffed. “You claimed in a heated argument with Randy Meeks and Casey Cooper, both of whom were killed by the ‘Ghostface’ persona, that violent movies were responsible for influencing people to commit acts of violence, is that correct?”

“It was a classroom discussion. Our professor had brought it up because two fellow students were brutally killed at the premier of a slasher movie the night before, by someone dressed as the killer from that same slasher movie. I just thought it wasn’t a coincidence, and neither did half the other students in that class. Are you going to make them testify too?”

“Don’t deflect, Mr. Altieri.”

“I don’t understand how I’m deflecting. You asked me about a conversation I had with my classmates, and I answered.”

The video went back to the commentator, but you had goosebumps raised across your skin. You rewound back to the clip of Mickey’s testimony, staring at his face. Could he be a killer? Only a few days ago, you wouldn’t have even considered it. Now, you were down a rabbit hole that sent your mind reeling.

‘A lot of the prosecution’s evidence was dismissed as circumstantial by the defense. Mickey had alibis for all of the murders, even for the one Sidney claimed to witness him commit, allegedly shooting her boyfriend Derek. The chat room records and emails allegedly linked to Debbie and Mickey didn’t do much to convince the jury of Mickey’s alleged involvement in the murders. The records did positively identify Debbie based on the account’s password hints and her IP address. The other user was more tech savvy, changing IP addresses to make it more difficult to confirm an identity.

In move that was described as ‘sloppy’ and ‘desperate’ by the media following the trial’s conclusion, the prosecution also tried to claim that Mickey being the only other survivor among Sidney’s friends was suspicious and indicated his involvement, but the defense pointed out that Randy Meeks had also been the only other survivor of Sidney’s friend group in the original Woodsboro killings despite a gunshot wound like Mickey had, and later on at Windsor he was a victim. 

Randy Meeks’ murder actually played a huge role in the defense’s strategy. Several Windsor College students saw Mickey elsewhere on campus during Randy’s murder. The final nail in the coffin was when Windsor County police confirmed that DNA in the news van where Randy was murdered was a match for Debbie Loomis. The police retested other evidence, but couldn’t find anything conclusive.

After weeks of questioning and evidence, the jury deliberated for a little over five days before returning to the judge in a deadlock. Judge Matthews declared a mistrial, and less than a year later, a district court dismissed the case on lack of substantial evidence and all charges against Mickey Altieri were dropped. Despite media speculation that he would, Mickey chose not to sue Sidney and Gale for defamation and hasn’t been in the public eye since the controversial trial.’

You stared blankly at your TV screen when the video ended, another one auto-playing a few seconds later. Even after your drinks with Lee, you felt way too sober to even process any of it. For the next few hours, you devoured videos, bookmarked dozens of articles, and sifted through podcast episodes to listen to during work.

The odd case had made its home in the recesses of your mind. You dreamed about him when you finally fell asleep, just before sunrise. Sitting in the downtown Manhattan office, the open floor layout was unusually bright, fluorescent lighting washing the place in an eerie white glow. Mickey walked over to his desk, blood dripping from his fingers, splattering on the carpet in a trail leading right to him. He looked at you, a smile on his face as he brought his upright, bloody index finger to his lips. 

As the weekend flew by, you tried to keep yourself otherwise occupied. It wasn’t good for you to stay fixated on it, and certainly not fair to Mickey. 

Working from home on Monday helped, as you focused on finishing the last of the onboarding process. 

Tuesday was where things became tricky again. You sat on the forty-minute long subway ride to the office equipped with a podcast episode about your new coworker. The hosts didn’t seem to have much new information from what you took in the night before, except for the last few minutes of the episode where they’d gone off-script.

‘Last I saw online, he was living in Manhattan.’

‘Oh my god, that’s so Patrick Bateman-core.’

‘So you think he did it?’

‘It’s tough to say, like I totally get why the jury couldn’t come to a consensus.’

‘Yeah same, messy as hell. I tend to think that he didn’t do it. Innocent until proven guilty, ya know?’

‘I get that. We did try to get in touch with him for some kind of statement or even an interview—‘

‘Wishful thinking.’

‘Yeah, we looked for his email address, but I guess it wasn’t the right one because our message got bounced back, so that was a big fat bust.’

‘He’s like notorious for denying interview requests, anyway. I think he turned down book deals and stuff.’

Enraptured by the conversation, you nearly missed your stop. On the three block walk to your office, you hurriedly opened one of your playlists and put it on shuffle. The last thing you needed was for Mickey to somehow see on your home screen you’d just been listening to a podcast episode about him.

Your head was spinning by the time you got to your desk. He hadn’t arrived yet, and you felt a bit relieved that you had a little more time to psych yourself up. You shouldn’t have even had to do that in the first place, just be normal about your coworker, but if you learned anything over the weekend, even if he wasn’t guilty, he sure as hell wasn’t normal.

The elevator doors opened, and you looked up to see him walk out, waving at you.

“Morning, Y/N, have a good weekend?”

“Pretty good. I’m more broke than when it started, though. How about you?”

“Like I told you, hot date with Netflix,” he said, sitting down. “Thought you were sticking with shitty liquor?”

“I was, but my friend wasn’t. I got the tab, and she got plenty of margaritas.”

“Shit, I oughta get drinks with you sometime if you get all your friends’ tabs.”

You grinned. “Don’t count your luck.”

He chuckled to himself. The two of you worked in near silence for the next three hours, though you found yourself glancing over at him every so often, out of curiosity and also admiration. His graying hair suited him, and you could see the muscles in his arms from his casually rolled up shirt sleeves. 

Soon, though, you found it hard to stay awake, the light from your computer screen adding onto your fatigue. To your horror, you yawned loudly, catching Mickey’s attention.

“You alright? I’m not too boring, am I?”

“No, I just kept waking up last night. I feel like I barely slept.”

“Why don’t we take an early lunch and go get coffee?”

“That sounds great,” you said, grabbing your purse.

There was a deli right up the block, and when you looked at the small pastry case, you decided to order something with your coffee. Mickey placed his order, a hot coffee and a bear claw. With plenty of tables to choose from, you and Mickey sat near the window. 

Your coffee definitely hit the spot, and the sugar from your pastry helped wake you up too.

“How long’s your commute?” Mickey asked.

“About 40 minutes. I live in Brooklyn, kinda between Bushwick and Bed-Stuy.”

“Damn, that’s long. I live on the Upper West Side.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Wow. Before this job, I was barely able to afford to rent on my own.”

“It’s a rent-controlled building. I’m not making a ton after alimony and child support.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, though he looked out the window as he continued speaking. “It was a long time ago. Deanna and me just didn’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of stuff when our son was born. I knew before he even got to kindergarten it was over.”

Unsure of how to respond, you slowly reached across the table, putting your hand over his. “I’m sorry, Mickey, really.”

“You’re a sweet girl,” he said, giving your hand a slight squeeze before releasing it. “They live upstate, so I don’t see them much. I have more time for going to the movies and Mets games.”

“I only go when they’re bad because tickets are cheaper.”

He snickered. “I should take a page outta your book. How about you? Any sports? Or reading? Isn’t true crime pretty popular with young women now?”

Your heart pounded at his question. Innocuous enough. True crime was extremely popular. The paranoid part of you couldn’t help but feel like it was an accusation. Then again, he couldn’t possibly know you’d spent the weekend immersing yourself in it, particularly stuff about him.

“I’m not really interested in that,” you said. “Sometimes my friends and I go to trivia nights at bars. I’m not that good, but it’s fun to just hang out. I have a membership at the MOMA, so I go there a lot. They show movies sometimes, too.”

To your relief, the conversation shifted to just that, and Mickey seemed surprised by some of your opinions on different movies. He told you he’d originally gone to college for film studies, which you already knew, of course. The odd thing was, while you certainly didn’t want him aware of just how much you knew about him, you didn’t feel guilty for it, just that he would be weirded out by it, obviously.

You and Mickey ended up talking about movies for nearly an hour and a half, well over your allotted hour lunch break, but he assured you no one would care that much. Still, the two of you half-ran back to the office, and something bubbled in your chest when he sat down and smiled at you, the wrinkles by his eyes becoming more prominent. 

The rest of the workday went by quickly, and you headed to the library where you’d reserved the two books about the Windsor College murders and trial. By the time you got home, you’d already devoured the first two chapters of Gale Weathers’ book. Glad to be working remotely the following day, you let yourself stay up later than usual to read, getting to the halfway point before you could hardly keep your eyes open.

Weeks turned into months, and you absolutely loved your job, and the pay, but most of all, how the content you consumed and your proximity to Mickey seemed to feed into each other in a vicious cycle that increasingly drowned out the rational part of you that knew what you were doing was weird. 

Still, it wasn’t like you were invading his personal privacy or treating him any different than you did before. All of the information you’d read, listened to, or watched was all public as your running list of books, podcasts, and documentaries on the matter grew. You’d even rewatched the Stab movies and started scrolling through threads and tags related to Mickey and what happened at Windsor College. After all of the personal research you did and how much you’d gotten to know Mickey at work, you couldn’t conclusively say whether or not he did it. 

You tried keeping your obsession lowkey, but your friends seemed to notice how you’d shoehorn it into conversations. Lee had even told you she was afraid she’d created a monster by bringing up Mickey’s past in the first place. If she’d never made her comment or showed you that first article, you probably never would’ve known about it, remaining blissfully unaware and going about your business at your typical office job with your hot older coworker.

For how much time you spent at home between work and researching, it seemed like whenever you’d go out, you’d come home to something missing or moved. Articles of clothing gone, coffee mugs out of place, books not quite in the order you’d left them. At first, you chalked it up to your consuming too much true crime content, feeding into your paranoia, but when you asked your landlord to install another lock on your door, it all seemed to stop. That didn’t bode well with you.

Your fantasies blended with reality in your dreams, as you were having increasing occurrences of Ghostface or Mickey, or both, in them. Whenever you woke up, you didn’t remember much except for a warm feeling in your core. One dream remained vivid even after you awoke, though.

You were in your apartment alone, late at night, when you got a call from an unknown number. Normally, you didn’t pick up calls unless you were expecting them, but for some reason you picked up. The details of the phone call itself were jumbled, but you were frightened, running into your bedroom and locking the door behind you. 

To your horror, you’d locked yourself in with Ghostface, the looming predator who looked at you emotionlessly, stalking toward you with his knife. When you turned around, the door knob was gone, and a black gloved hand grabbed your shoulder, moving you to face him as he pushed you against the door. He sliced through your slinky pajama top, exposing your breasts to him. Roughly groping each of them, he let out a low moan in appreciation before bringing the knife to your collarbone, dragging the blade to the valley between your breasts. Your breath hitched as he pressed it a bit deeper, but instead, you felt it in your pussy, like he was penetrating you.

“Give me a kiss, sweetheart,” your masked assailant ordered in a distorted voice.

Slowly, you leaned in, pressing your lips against the cold, hard plastic mask. You gasped as he dug the knife into your skin with one hand, his other slipping under your panties, pushing his fingers between your folds.

“I own you,” he said, clearly in Mickey’s voice this time.

You threw your head back in ecstasy as he pushed his fingers into your tight cunt, and then your alarm blared, jolting you awake. Turning over, you groaned into your pillow in frustration. At least it ended up being great masturbation material later on.

Another Thursday at work, seemingly uneventful as usual. You and Mickey had gotten into the habit of getting lunch together whenever you both were in the office. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but as time went on, they felt more like dates than just a casual lunch with a coworker. Not that you were complaining.

“Got any plans for the weekend?” he asked in the nearby deli the two of you had begun to frequent.

“No, not really.”

“Do you wanna come over after work tomorrow? Watch a movie or something?” he asked.

“That’d be great!” you said, almost a bit too enthusiastically. “Should I bring anything?”

He shook his head, smiling a bit. “I can order a pizza.”

For some reason, you trusted yourself to be normal at his place, telling yourself throughout Friday that everything would work out fine. Being a weirdo about his alleged murders certainly wouldn’t help you get a real date with him, but your infatuation with him was only growing. You liked the slightest hint of danger about him, going to his apartment alone, wondering in the back of your mind what his true intentions were and feeling a bit of a thrill at the prospect that they could be anything less than innocent.

You showed up at his apartment that evening with a bottle of wine in hand, even though he’d told you not to bring anything. As expected, he thanked you for the wine, though he gave you an exasperated look as he let you into his apartment. Nicer than yours, but it still looked lived-in.

“Pizza will be here in a couple of minutes,” he said. “I’m thinking Mean Streets for the movie.”

“It’s a classic,” you agreed. “I love Harvey Keitel in it.”

“You know, that was De Niro and Scorsese’s first time working together.”

“Wait, why did I think Taxi Driver was first?”

“Came out in ‘76, just after he was in Godfather Part II in ‘74. Busy decade for him.”

“You’re telling me.”

The doorbell rang, the pizza arriving sooner than expected. You waited in the kitchen while Mickey dealt with the delivery.

“We can eat in the living room while we watch,” he said, carrying the pizza box inside. “I don’t have many people over, so it’s still a little messy.”

“That’s okay,” you assured him.

He put on the movie, and you balanced the paper plate on your lap, nodding along to “Be My Baby” as it played during the opening scene. Testing the waters, you scooted closer to him a few minutes into the movie. He glanced over at you, and you could’ve sworn you saw the faintest hint of a smile on his face. 

You were especially pleased when he put his arm around you, not bothering with the pretense of a “move,” but rather taking what he wanted. Settling comfortably next to him, you tried to focus on the movie.

Despite his arm around your shoulders, closer physically to him than you ever had been, you felt restless. You knew when the halfway point of the movie was, and so you excused yourself to use the bathroom, telling him he didn’t need to pause it until you returned.

The tips of your fingers itched as you passed closed doors to the bathroom, which he told you was at the end of the hall. Biting your lip, you considered your options, and in a moment of impulse and weakness, you reached for one of the door handles. A mostly empty extra bedroom, maybe his son’s old room. 

You weren’t deterred, opening another door. Jackpot. Slightly messy, with clothes strewn about the floor and on the dark sheets of his bed. Glancing behind you, you stepped into his room and looked around for anything that stood out. 

Most people hid things under their beds, and so you got down on your hands and knees, wondering where exactly he might hide his—

“Don’t think this is the bathroom,” he said, startling you.

You yelped, frantically turning around as your brain short circuited for an explanation. “I—I was just—“

“Looking for trophies? All serial killers keep them, right?” he asked, towering over you from your spot on the floor. “Mementos of their victims or the kills.”

You shook your head frantically. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been snooping.”

“No, you shouldn’t have, but you’re looking in the wrong place anyway,” he said, pulling the knife from behind his back.

“Serial killers also don’t—don’t kill people th-they know,” you stammered.

“Typically,” he agreed, “but I’m not typical, am I? I’m sure you’ve listened to plenty of those cute little podcasts where some dumbasses read the Wikipedia page about the Windsor College murders in between hawking security systems to their listeners that they’ve just scared shitless. I admitted I did it, went to fucking trial, and the jury couldn’t even find me guilty.”

“Point taken.”

“So, what trophy would I keep from you?”

You were silent for a moment before answering, looking him in the eye. “My panties.”

“Which pair? Figure I have at least five of them now. Unless you wanna make that six, sweetheart.”

“You’ve been breaking into my place all this time.”

“You made it way too easy. It’s like you were asking for it.”

Maybe you were. Regardless, you didn’t show any resistance when he lightly kicked at your leg, a silent command to stand up. You got to your feet, though your gaze was fixed on the knife in his hand. His eyes followed yours, and he smirked a bit before putting the knife aside.

He turned you around, pushing you back onto his bed. Your breath caught in your throat as he pushed your skirt up, his hand caressing your ass, fingers brushing the thin fabric of your panties.

“Were you asking for it, sweetheart? Have you wanted this all along? Been a bad girl to get my attention?”

“Yes,” you whimpered weakly, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Y’know, I’ve heard of serial killers having groupies, but you,” he said, slapping your ass for emphasis, eliciting a moan from you, “are something else.”

“Fuck, daddy,” you whispered, fidgeting against his mattress.

“I’m disappointed in you.” Another smack on your ass. “I could’ve been having fun with you months ago.” Smack! You hissed this time, though your pussy was pulsing between your legs. “Bent you over my desk in the office, have my way with you while no one else is around—or maybe a little slut like you would wanna get caught with daddy’s dick buried inside her.”

He spanked you harder this time, holding you down when your body instinctively recoiled at the impact. A pained moan escaped your lips as he pressed his body weight against you, his clothed cock rubbing against your tender skin. Tears welled up in your eyes as the sensation, and you resisted the urge to slip your hand between your legs.

“Or maybe,” he said, reaching around you to wrap his hand around your neck, “you just want me to fuck you before I kill you. Probably cum the minute I put that old Ghostface mask on, huh, baby?”

You let out a strangled moan at his words. “Yes, daddy.”

He released his grip on your throat, standing up to give you one more slap across your ass. “Turn over. If you’re good for me, maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

The friction from his sheets stung against your sore ass as you rolled over to look at him, though he grabbed you, pushing you onto your back himself. His grip on you was tight, fingers digging into your arms as he held you down beneath him, completely at his mercy.

He pulled off your skirt and panties, leaving your pussy exposed for him. He dragged his index finger between your folds, and you whimpered when he brushed your clit.

“God, you’re soaked,” he murmured against your lips. “Was it the spanking, or is it the serial killer thing?”

“Both.”

“Good answer,” he said, lazily circling your clit with his finger. 

He ducked his head down, wasting no time in devouring your wet cunt. His tongue relentlessly flicked at your clit while he slid two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out of your hole. You took them easily, but wondered if it’d be the same for his cock when he’d undoubtedly fuck you. 

Your hands gripped his sheets as he worked his tongue, your feet curling at the tension you felt building up inside of you. He moaned against you, loud enough that it felt like his voice rocked through your body. 

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded breathlessly.

A pained and outraged whine pulled from your throat when he did just that. You looked down at him between your legs, betrayed.

“Why should I let you cum?” he teased, rubbing light circles in your clit with his soaked fingers. “You’ve been a bad girl.”

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. “Please, daddy.”

“You can do better than that, sweetheart.”

“Please let me cum, daddy. I’ll be so good. I—I’ll do anything, just—please,” you cried out in frustration of being so close yet not quite there.

“Only since you asked so nicely,” he relented, dipping his head back down between your legs, his hands holding your hips in place as your lower half began to quiver at his touch.

You could feel his lips move slightly against your sensitive pussy, nothing short of a smug expression on his face at making you fall apart so easily. It didn’t matter, your head was swimming, muscles strained as he brought you closer to climax. Grabbing his hair, you pressed his face closer against your pussy, grinding against it in desperation. 

“Mickey—Fuck—“ you choked out as your orgasm wracked through you, fireworks in between your legs as your body shook. 

He ate you out through your orgasm, and another tidal wave of pleasure hit you all at once, almost painful and overwhelming, your brain on fire at the sensation. You could hardly catch your breath when you released your grip from his hair and he lifted his head, your wetness glistening on his lips.

When he kissed you, you hardly had the strength to kiss him back, though tasting yourself on his mouth sent a rush through you. He pressed sloppy kisses to your face, trailing down to your neck. His hard length rubbed against your slick-coated thigh, a low growl coming from deep in his throat.

“W-Wait, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he mumbled against your skin.

“Did you really wanna get caught?”

He stopped, lifting his head from your neck to look at you a few moments before answering, “Yeah, blame the movies, make a real circus of the trial, but my attorney said he didn’t think I could pull off an insanity plea because I was too put together. Obviously pleading guilty and confessing everything wouldn’t get nearly as much attention as actually going on trial. I was pissed at first, but it worked out, I mean I had every reporter eating out of the palm of my hand by day three.”

“Why don’t you do interviews now? Or write a book?”

“What’s there to say? Not the truth.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you muttered. “Are you gonna kill me?”

“Probably should,” he said, the slightest smirk ghosting his lips as his eyes raked over you, “I might need more convincing not to.”

[v3nusxsky]

Hello love your writing :))

I wanted to ask if you could write a story either about Larissa or Lucifer, they need to punish their partner and they use „longterm“ denial over a whole weekend and reader is just yearning for release after the weekend and Larissa/Lucifer gets soft after the fulfilled punishment and give them the best orgasm ever :)) you can involve other punishment methods as well :) but some cute fluff and praise at the end would be great :) thank you 🔥🥰

Be my good doll 18+

*Authors note~ i choose Larissa purely bc I don’t feel I can write lucifer well but may I highly suggest my darling friend @littledollll who will be able to handle a luci version <3*

Trigger warnings~ long term orgasm denial, mommy kink daddy kink shifted cock oral very smutty smut

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

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For the past two days all you could think of was her. No one but you would’ve been brave enough to be a brat towards the headmistress of Nevermore, and that’s why you landed up being tied to the bed, a ruthless vibe working diligently between your legs as Larissa watched on. Her intense gaze at your leaking cunt truly should’ve made you feel embarrassed but it was having the opposite effect. Larissa would bring you right to the edge only to rip you away from it. If you wanted to act like a whore then you’d certainly be treated like one.

Larissa did this till your brain was nothing but a pile of mush, your whines of need being strictly ignored as your cunt clenched against thin air. “If you want to act like a whore doll then mommy will treat you like one” she all but purred at you, laughing slightly as a few stray tears fell from your eyes, “now now pretty dolls don’t cry, you brought this all on yourself. You’re not to touch or cum until mommy lets you, understood?” Truly her tone alone was leaving no room for any kind of arguments, you nodded and attempted to gain control over your emotions. You knew you could safe word, but this was a punishment and safe wording just to avoid it was wrong. Larissa untied you and cradled you in her lap, wrapping their arms tightly around you in comfort.

That was two days ago, you were feeling like you’d explode if you’re honest. Nothing you did would quell the burning pit of need within you. You need her to fuck you until your brain was nothing but mush. Larissa didn’t make things easy, every night she mad the habit of teasing you, making sure you thought your punishment was at the end before fucking herself right in front of you, fully on display with ample amount of sound, almost as if she was trying to get you to fail your punishment. You wouldn’t. You shouldn’t t. And you most definitely couldn’t.

Two whole days, you were near enough exploding with need, that’s when you came back into your shared chambers to find your lover in a new lacy set bought specifically for your eyes only. You tried to keep your gaze on her face, you couldn’t allow yourself to fail here. Looking like an angel from heaven she crooked her index finger seductively, her gaze anything innocent, a complete contrast to her Lacy white set. “Mommy?” You whined, your need more evident than you wanted it to be. “Oh my doll, you’ve taken your punishment so well darling. Mommy is so proud of you that she wanted to give you a special treat. Do you like it?” She purred gesturing to her hardly clothed body. “Yes mommy. Thank you” you choked out finally allowing your gaze to run all over her body.

You knew how this would go, Larissa would follow the same routine as any other punishment, it’s something that calmed you. You instantly kneeled next to the bed and looked at your lover, “I’m sorry mommy. I won’t be bratty again in that way. I’m only mommy’s girl I’d never stray” you whimper and you see the way her eyes darken at the last part. “Say it again doll” she teased and you instantly complied. “So you can be a good girl” she mused as if it was the first time, “get up here doll, you know what you need to do to show mommy just how sorry you are.”

After climbing up on the bed, watching Larissa shuffle back into the pillows you gave her a sweet kiss. As the kids deepened the need grew but you knew she had to cum first, to show how truly sorry you were. Larissa allowed you to take her set off piece by piece as you showered her with love and kisses. Only when you made your way down your body did she bring a hand to your hair and tug your head upwards, “mouth only my sweet doll” she warned before allowing you to continue.

When your breath hit her core she gasped, truly the two day punishment was driving her just a mad as you. When your tongue swiped at the wetness there you saw Larissa could’ve cried. You knew just how to please her. Her hands gripping the headboard and her bucking her hips against your face, practically fucking herself on your face, she was able to approach a very much needed climax. When you felt her legs tremble you knew she was close so you gripped onto her hips hard enough to bruise as you guided her movements and moaned around her sensitive clit. With a cry from the older woman you rewarded with a gush of cum from her pretty pussy as it spasmed around your tongue, you making sure to get every last drop.

She caught her breath before managing to move from your face, chuckling at you as your tongue darted around to get any remaining cum it could. “Look at the little cum slut. Are you needy precious girl?” She purred trailing her fingers lightly over your body. “Mommy need so bad” you mumbled trying to stop your voice from quivering as badly as your thighs were. You watched as Larissa surprised you by shifting her female anatomy to male. Truly, the sight was nothing short of magnificent. “Oh fuck mommy? Daddy? Oh fuck” you whined confused on what your girlfriend would prefer.

“Either baby, I don’t mind just pick one” she murmured answering your unasked question. “Daddy please” you whimpered eyeing her cock. “Are you sorry doll?” You whimpered watching her stroke her impressive length, “I’m sorry daddy, I won’t do it again” you pleaded and she could see the truth lingering in your eyes. “I know doll, you took your punishment well baby” she reassured you while lining her cock up with your leaking hole. “Doll, I’m going fuck you okay? It’s a little bigger than the toys because it’s more realistic. I don’t want to hurt you baby. You remember safe word?” She truly meant this. “Yes daddy. It’s red” you stated and she nodded before pushing her length into you slowly.

Tears prickled at your eyes, your inner walls stretching around her even though she stilled her hips allowing you to adjust. “Daddy” you whimpered as a few stray tears fell. “You’re doing so good for me doll, such a good girl for me” she kissed the tears away. Soon enough pain morphed into pleasure and you subconsciously your hips bucked upwards causing your girlfriend to chuckle, “such a needy girl for daddy aren’t you? “

When she started to move, you truly wondered if anything would feel as good as her inside of you. Actually her and not some plastic fake dick. “Oh god doll, so tight for me. Fuck so warm and wet doll, making daddy feel so good” she panted out her, the thrusting of her hips and moans tumbling from her lips stealing her breath. All you could do was whine and mewl at the sensations she provided as you came close to your peak embarrassingly quick. “Daddy please I can’t I need” you whimpered your train of thought jumping around manically. “I know doll let go” she murmured coming to kiss and such on your pulse point. You came with a scream of her name, your cunt squeezing her cock in its vice tight grip as your cum coated it and leaked slightly onto the sheets.

You thought she’d stop there, but she didn’t, she kept fucking you despite the whimpers of “no please daddy no sensitive” you were repeating. “Come on doll give daddy one more” she all but moaned out. And that’s what you did, you came again, squeezing her dick as she spurted cum up into your needy cunt causing an almost pornographic moan to tumble from your lips. And the sensation of peeing ? That was new. “Isa? What oh god did I pee?!” The panic rising through you. “No darling, you squirted love, it’s okay it’s perfectly natural and now I know you can do it I’m going to have so much fun with you” she murmured eyes seemingly transfixed on your sensitive core.

You flopped back against the bed and held an arm over your eyes, “god I’m so embarrassed!” You whined causing Larissa to chuckle at you, “it’s okay baby. Let me change the sheets and then me and my good girl can have a bath can’t we.” A quick kiss placed on your lips as she set about running a bath and changing the sheets, just letting you have your space to come back down to earth. That was one hell of a reward.

Word count~ 1598

[number1mingyustan]

Stay ✹ ☾

exbf!joshua x fem!reader

Warnings: cursing, kissing, definitely not a healthy relationship, fingering (f.), unprotected sex (pls be safe it's caused enough problems for these two), multiple orgasms

Summary: No matter how bad it is for you, Joshua will always stay

Word Count: 2.7k

_______________________________________________

(a/n: obviously still not proofread lmao, but it’s been a while since i’ve posted content that wasn’t ‘the long game’ so i felt like i owed you guys something)

“You’re late,” you frown.

Joshua stands outside your apartment door, equally as annoyed as you. “Well hello to you too.”

Your son is over his shoulder sleeping peacefully and Joshua is holding his bag in his other hand. It’s Sunday night and you’ve been up worrying about his whereabouts for the past hour.

“You picked him up an hour late on Friday, and now you’re late again,” you scoff. “We talked about this.”

He lets out an exhausted sigh. “Can you at least let me in before you scold me?”

There’s a brief moment of silence. Joshua looks at you, you look back at him.

You finally move out the way, no longer blocking the door to let him in. You take your son’s bag out of Joshua’s hand, placing it in the living room.

“I’m gonna tuck him in,” Joshua whispers.

Before you can protest, Joshua is already walking toward your son, Juyeon’s room quietly.

By the time he comes back, you’re leaned over the kitchen counter with a glass of wine in your hand. Classic.

He eyes you, walking toward the front door.

“Do you want a glass?“ you offer.

“No thank you,” he responds. “I have to drive home and I’ve got work in the morning.”

You scoff. “Suit yourself.”

He rolls his eyes. “You know this whole coparenting thing doesn’t work if you’re just gonna act like a bitch for the next 15 years.”

“Excuse me?“ you retort.

You and Joshua never got married. You fell apart before you could ever get to that point. The two of you met when he was 19 and you were 18 through some mutual friends. You fell for each other immediately, no hesitation in starting a relationship.

The first two and a half years were perfect.

You guys never really talked about kids prior. It was something for the far future. Or at least it was supposed to be.

You got pregnant at 21 and everything fell apart. Neither of you were really ready to be parents, but you tried. You really tried, but it took a toll on your relationship.

Once the fights started, they never stopped. They continued to get worse over time. You both wanted different things, and a crying baby at all times only made it harder.

And eventually everything just… turned to shambles.

You put up with it for 3 years and it was hell. The fighting was constant, and a few months ago your and Joshua were finally able to agree on one thing: you couldn’t raise your son in an environment like this.

It’s been almost 4 months since you and Joshua officially broke up. Truth be told, you guys ended it a year and a half prior, but it wasn’t completely official. You still lived together, often slept in the same bed amongst over things. But the spark wasn’t really there anymore.

Juyeon is now 3 and he lives with you in your apartment.Joshua gets him every weekend and that’s just how things are.

It’s been 4 months since you guys started coparenting, and it was actually going quite smoothly. Joshua picked him up every Friday after daycare and brought him back at 7 on sunday. It was all going smoothly until last weekend.

“For fuck’s sake Y/n,” he exclaims. “You are so fucking difficult sometimes! I literally cannot do anything without you up my ass!”

“Maybe if you were more responsible I wouldn’t have to be!” you respond.

“I can’t believe you’re still not over that,” he rolls his eyes. “How much do you want me apologize? Nothing even happened!”

“You brought a complete stranger into your home while our son was with you! You let him be with a complete stranger Joshua!” you should.

He massages his temples. “Because you brought him over Y/n! You told me your parents wanted to spend the weekend with him, so I was willing to give it up. And then you told me last minute that they weren’t going to be able to take him and I could have my weekend back. You seriously cannot be mad at me when I already made plans!”

“You let that woman be around my son and you didn’t talk to me about it.” you look him dead in the eye.

He laughs humorlessly. “Honestly I think you’re more bothered by the fact that I was on a date more than the fact that she met him.”

“Go fuck yourself.” you respond.

“What? Did i hit a nerve?” he smirks.

“You are so frustrating!” you exclaim.

Suddenly, the soft sound of footsteps fills your ears. You and Joshua turn in unison, seeing a sleepy Juyeonin the kitchen.

“Ma?” he questions, rubbing his eyes.

Your heart breaks a little at the sight. Juyeon is standing there in his pyjamas, questioning why his parents are screaming at each other. It’s exactly what you wanted the avoid, the entire reason you and Josh called it quits.

“Juyeon honey,go back to bed,” you tell him softly.

“I heard yelling,” he responds with a pout.

You quickly glance back at Joshua, he looks just as upset as you.

“Everything’s okay bubs, it’s just grown up stuff,” you coo. “I’m gonna tuck you in now okay?”

He yawns,and nods, reaching up his hands so you can pick him up. You secure his body, lifting him up and walking toward Joshua. “Say goodnight to Daddy.”

However, your son is stubborn just like you. He refuses, tightening his grip on you and refusing to acknowledge his father. “Don’t wanna,” he whines. “Want Daddy to tuck me in.”

“I thought I was tucking you in?” you respond.

Juyeon yawns again. “Want both of you to do it.”

You and Joshua exchange a quick glance, silently agreeing that you’ll do it together. The three of you walk to your son’s bedroom. You place his body in the bed, Joshua helping you to properly tuck him in. You both say your good nights and I love yous before heading back to the kitchen.

The tension between the two of you is just as thick, if not thicker than before. You’re both ashamed of having been caught arguing by your son.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

You sigh. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. I was just being petty

“If it makes you feel any better,” he gives you a half-smile. “She and I broke up. Wasn’t gonna work out.”

“Oh,” you frown. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he leans against the counter. “She wasn’t the one for me.”

He stared at you as if you’re the only person in the world. You swear his eyes light up when he speaks.

“At least you’ve gotten to go out,” you shrug. “I’m in a bit of a dry spell.”

You? Joshua doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. For the entirety of your relationship with him, you were like a magnet. There were too many times he recalled having to shoo away guys who tried to hit on you.

“As long as you and I were together, there was always some guy on you. I’m finding that a little hard to believe,” he comments.

“It’s different for you than it is me,” you shrug. “Girls love it when guys have kids because they get to play mom without being mom and they think kids are cute. Guys don’t want the responsibility of someone else’s kid, so they avoid it as much as they can. Don’t think I’ll be finding the one for me any time soon.”

He’s staring at you again, analyzing and internalizing your every word. He doesn't know why, but he wants to kiss you so bad right now. It's crazy how quickly he can go from yelling at you to wanting to have another kid.

Crazy.

That's how you make him feel, how you make each other feel. You drive each other crazy, somehow in both the best and worst ways possible.

He clears his throat. "I should go."

"Yeah," you breathe. "I'll walk you out."

The two of you take a few steps toward the door. You open it and he takes another step. Before he walks out, you grab his arm.

"I'm really sorry about how I've been acting," you apologize again.

"It's fine, we'll work it out," his gaze shifts between your eyes and your lips. He really wants to kiss you.

"Yeah," you breathe out. "I'll see you Friday? And you'll text me if you need anything?"

He nods, gazing down at your lips again. There's a moment of silence. He doesn't walk out the door like to expect him to.

"Josh-"

He cuts you off by pressing his lips against yours. His actions shock you, but kissing him is like muscle memory. Before you know it, you're pinned against the wall of the kitchen and he's kicked the door closed. The kiss is heated and passionate, no different than how he's always kissed you.

His lips are sweet, likely from whatever candy you know he's been feeding Juyeon. Instinctively his hands rest on your hips, lightly squeezing. You moan softly into his mouth, relishing in his touch.

He pulls away suddenly. You're both panting softly, looking at one another with purely shocked expressions.

"I'm sorry, fuck– I shouldn't have– 'M sorry," he rambles, running his hands frantically through his hair. "I should really go."

You look up at him with a soft gaze. Your eyes are round and beady, gleaming with hope. You missed him. You've been trying to convince yourself for the last 4 months that you were fine without him, but deep down inside you knew it was all lies.

Admittedly yes, you two fell apart years prior, but you realized just how much you needed him after he was gone. Waking up to an empty bed may have started 2 years ago, but waking up to an empty home was something you hated the thought of getting used to.

"Stay," you plead.

"I can't," his voice breaks. "This isn't good for us."

"Josh," you pout. "Stay."

Fuck. He should leave, he should really leave. You two aren't good for each other anymore. Maybe you can work decently as parents, but when you bring the romance back into the equation, things go downhill. Fuck, he should really leave.

But he can't. Not when you're looking at him like that. Your eyes are practically fucking begging him to stay. He should really go.

"Okay," he whispers. His lips are on yours again. Your whole body heats up as he kisses you. He taps your thigh, signaling you to jump.

You lift your legs, wrapping them around his waist as he carries you. He places your body on the counter and starts leaving kisses along your neck. His fingers sneakily travel up your nightgown, sliding your panties down to your ankles and onto the floor.

You tilt your head back as his lips travel toward your breasts. One of the straps falls to your shoulder almost on cue, exposing one of your breasts to him. You lift your hips slightly as you feel his fingers slide up your thigh.

He pushes a finger inside of you, causing you to let out a soft moan. His lips are wrapped around your nipple.

“Joshy,” you whine. “Want you inside of me.”

He feels his cock throb in his pants. He’s already failing in his self control by doing this with you and your words are so tempting. As tempting as it was to slip his cock inside of you at that moment, he knew he couldn’t.

“Not yet,” he mumbles against your skin. “ ‘S been too long, gotta prep you first.”

He pumps his finger a few times before adding another. You’re a moaning mess, cunt clenching around his fingers desperately.

His thumb circles your clit as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. You’re panting his name, pushing your hips into his digits with every movement.

“Shua,” you pant. “So good, you’re so good.”

Your words only encourage him. His fingers pick up in pace, coaxing you closer and closer to your orgasm. His fingers are completely coated in your arousal, dripping onto the counter. You’ll have to clean that later,

The coil in your lower stomach finally snaps and you enter a state of bliss. Your orgasm came much faster than anticipated, but of course, it was Josh.

It may have been a while, but Joshua knew you better than you knew yourself. Where all your sweet spots were, what ticked you off, what made you smile. He’d never forget those things about you.

He pulls his fingers out of you. slipping them into his mouth. He sucks lightly, letting out a quiet moan. He’s missed the way you taste.

You hardly give it a second before you’re reaching for his pants, frantic to feel him inside of you. He chuckles, undoing his pants to give you what you want.

His cock springs free, and he drags his tip across your folds. Your arousal coats the head of his cock as you push your hips against him. It’s almost pathetic how desperate you are for him. However, he hesitates.

“Baby,” he sighs. “I don’t have any condoms.”

“Don’t care, just want you inside of me,” you whine.

You’re not thinking straight. You know better, but you choose to play the fool. It’s been so long since you and Joshua have been together like this. Even if it’s temporary, you want to milk the experience for as much as you can. You’ve missed this too much to less the opportunity pass by.

Joshua however, is still hesitant. “Baby I know, but we really shouldn’t-“

“I’m on the pill,” you cut him off.

You were also on the pill when you got pregnant with Juyeon. It was shitty luck that you somehow still got pregnant and it would be even shittier luck if it happened again. But the chances are slim, and you’re so consumed by lust in the moment that you continue to play the fool.

Joshua likes to think he’s good with his self control, unless he’s with you. You make it hard for him to show restraint, and it often leads to chaos. He knows this, but he too chooses to play to fool.

So he lets you win, and he gives you what he wants. He fucks you hard and fast on the kitchen counter. His hands flies to your mouth in an attempt to keep you quiet.

His pace is relentless, hips slamming into you roughly. Your moans are muffled again his hand, but they’re just loud enough for him to hear and use as encouragement.

Your body jerks back with each thrust as he bottoms out. His cock fills you up, hitting every sweet spot inside of you effortlessly.

He knew he wasn’t gonna last long from the moment he slipped his first finger in you. You were so tight and warm around his fingers, he knew once he was inside of you it would milk him completely dry.

His cock twitches inside of you, indicating his impending orgasm. Selflessly, his thumb finds its way back to your clit. He circles it quickly, bringing back the familiar feeling in your lower abdomen.

He just wants to watch you cum again. Your orgasms are a sight to see, and selfishly he wants to watch it again. It’s been so long and he knows he can get you there quickly.

He knows he should pull out, but once your second orgasm hits, he’s a goner. You’re tightening and throbbing around him, making it nearly impossible for him to pull out, not that he ever had the self control to do it anyway.

His cock is buried deep inside of you as he cums, painting your walls entirely white. Considering how long it’s been since he’s last touched you, he spills a large load into you. You milk him for every drop he has to offer.

He drops his hand, uncovering your mouth. Both of your minds are still fuzzy as you come down from your highs. You’re both panting heavily in place as your minds clear up.

He looks down, wincing at the sight. He finally pulls out of you slowly. You cringe as he slips out, looking down and seeing the absolute mess you made.

Fuck, he came a lot.

You briefly make eye contact with Joshua as the post-nut clarity hits. You bite your bottom lip nervously.

Neither of you say it out loud, but you’re both thinking the same thing. You really really hope the pill works this time.

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© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

I’d love to request a fake dating fic with Dico where the reader tries to make Bam jealous by fake dating Dico but falls for him in the process

Jealousy

Y/N hatches a plan to get back at Bam, and they know just the person to go along with it.

Brandon DiCamillo X Gn!Reader, Bam Margera X Gn!Reader

(Fluff)

2.1k Words

Warnings: Suggestive content, fake dating, jealousy, public displays of affection, finger sucking, injury, violence

The idea was childish, but you were past handling this maturely. Funnily enough, the whole situation began with you falling for Bam. For the first few months you hung out with him and his friends, it was like you got cartoon heart eyes every time he walked in the room, and with the way he acted around you, there was no way he didn’t notice. In fact, he found your little crush on him hilarious and had no qualms about using it to mess with you. One minute he’d be playing all sweet, sorta playfully joking and flirting with you, and the next you’d be the target of whatever awful prank he had in mind. You tolerated it for a month or two, assuming it was maybe his weird little way of showing love, but it really started to get on your nerves, especially with the way he kept skirting around confirming or denying if he was interested in you in the first place. That’s how you got the idea.

The only one of Bam’s friends you knew would go along with this was Dico, so it was him who you called that night. Lying on top of your comforter, you perked up when he answered his phone, “Hey, dude!” You started, rolling over onto your back, “I got this great plan to fuck with Bam.” Not only would he do anything for the sake of a joke, you were willing to bet he had some beef against the guy too. The line was quiet before Bran spoke up, “Say no more- I’m in.” You went on to tell him about what had been going on between you and Bam, and how you thought the one thing to make him come to his senses and give you an answer would be seeing you with another guy, whether that meant Bam would be throwing himself at your feet and confessing his love for you or telling you to fuck off. “Oh, that’s perfect! He’s such a jealous ass- there’s no way this can’t work.”

After you and him spent the whole night discussing gross couples stuff you could do in his line of sight, you decided to implement step one of your plan to piss Bam off that weekend. Since it was summer, you and the guys would usually spend the weekends at FDR skatepark, even if the only ones who really skated were Bam and Novak. Still, hanging out under Interstate 95 was a good way to stay cool after someone, not naming names, ‘accidently’ put a hole in the Margera’s above ground pool that duct tape couldn’t fix. You know how there’s always a guy grilling at FDR? Well today Dico was that guy, cooking the burgers Ryan brought on a little red camping grill, his look complete with one of those cheesy “Kiss the Cook” aprons.

Bam couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you snuggling close to, of all people, Dico. His arm held you close to his body and you giggled all cute to make it seem like you were laughing at something just out of Bam’s earshot. Did he fall into the Twilight Zone, or was he just so drunk that he was seeing things? Maybe it was some sort of heat exhaustion hallucination, because there was no way in hell this was actually happening. Given how easy he wa sto read,Bam’s gawking at the two of you was impossible to ignore, and once the two of you were satisfied with the reaction you were eliciting, you decided to kick it up a notch. You gave him the cue and Bran grabbed the bottle of ketchup off of the concrete with a snicker, popping open the cap and squirting some onto his fingers, holding it up to your lips like he was giving you a taste of what he was cooking. It was his idea for you to suck it off of his fingers, actually, sort of inspired by his Julia Childish bit he did for Don’t Feed Phill, and you really gave it your all, really licking and sucking at his digits until your lips popped off with a noise that echoed off the concrete that was second only to the sound of Bam’s jaw dropping.

The next thing you heard was this blunt packing noise and a, “Fuck!” Turning towards the commotion, you found Bam flat on his back, his board about twenty feet from him. Like a good best friend, Ryan was already jumping into the bowl to check on him. Peering over his sprawled out body, he held out a hand to help him up, “Shit dude…You alright?” Sitting up, Bam wobbled to his feet, rubbing the sore back of his head and brushing off the throbbing pain in his left arm, “Yeah. Just, uh- just ate shit. I’ll be fine.” The way he pretended to be so nonchalant was really quite satisfying to you and you couldn’t help but smirking a little. See, now would be the time for him to start hallucinating one of his bros getting fresh with you, after the head trauma, but no! Satisfied with your work, you and Dico sat back in half-broken lawn chairs Raab brought and ate your burgers, exchanging knowing glances between bites.

The next step of the plan was put into play in Bam’s basement while everyone was busy with his home arcade setup. You stood next to Dico, curiously peering at the match he was playing in Mortal Kombat with one arm around you, holding you close as you watched with big eyes as he executed a pretty impressive combo with Sub-Zero. All the other guys were too busy tapping away at their own games to notice anything was amiss- that is, except Bam, who was sitting on the couch with his left arm in a sling, glaring daggers at the two of you while Ryan, who sat on the other end of the couch, was filling him in about his ex girlfriend’s fancy new implants she paid for with lawsuit money, “I mean, I paid for those and I don’t even get to touch em’! Total bullshit.” Ignoring him, Bam gestured over to the bulgur display in front of him, keeping his voice quiet, “Hey, Ry. The fuck’s going on there? Those two’ve been hangin’ all over each other lately.” He didn’t seem to be as concerned with the very mild pda, and, unsatisfied with his lack of reaction Bam continued on his rant, “I’m just sayin- She’s all over for me for months, following me around like a puppy dog, and next thing I know, she’s dating Dico?” The way you giggled when his best friend leaned over and gave you a kiss on the cheek made his blood boil.

Ryan chuckled, bringing his beer to his lips, “Sounds like you’re a bit jealous. Should’ve fucked her while y’had the chance” Despite how obvious his jealousy was, Bam was very eager to deny it, “nah, nah- it’s not like that. You don’t get it.” Snickering, Ry playfully smacked him on the arm, “Yeah, I get it. You’re not sure if you want her or not but you certainly don’t want your buddy over there to have her.” Shooting a glance over to you and Bran all snuggled up in a scene straight out of a hallmark card, Bam rolled his eyes, “Oh, fuck you. Why’d I even talk to you about this anyhow…”

Bam decided to just come out and ask Dico about it, pulling him aside as everyone was getting ready to head out the door, “Hey, dude, what’s, uh- what’s goin’ on between you and Y/N?” Still pulling on his coat, he was obnoxiously nonchalant in reply, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.” He tugged the bottom of his jacket down, “I just think they’re really cool and nice and funny, you know?” You said nothing. Thank god he and you had planned for this exact scenario- you really made sure you thought of everything. Still, Bam eyed you and him with suspicion, trailing after the two of you, “Oh, alright- yeah. I mean, is that it?” Pausing in the doorway, Bran turned back with a smirk to deliver the finishing blow to his ego, “Yeah. What’ re you, like- jealous or somethin’?”

After all this, the final straw was that night you all went out to the bar together, and if Bam thought he felt like a third wheel before, he really did now. Every time Dico played with your hair or made you laugh at another one of his stupid jokes, he felt the urge to reach over the bar and stab two little cocktail stirrers into his eyes. It’d keep him from staring at you like that, that’s for sure- like you were his. But he kept to himself, quietly seething in his little brooding bubble. It was a scene straight out of the discovery channel, with the two lions fighting over a wildebeest- no, a gazelle, because they’re prettier. Bam wondered what on earth was someone as hot as you doing with Dico? The two glared at each other over your head and you swear you saw his eye twitch when Bran flashed that shit eating grin when he ordered you a drink. If looks could kill, he would have dropped dead right then and there.

Part of you found the thought of being fought over by two guys kind of romantic, especially given who was fighting over you. Sure, this was all a bid to get Bam’s attention, but over the course of your little experiment, you had actually been growing closer to Dico. There was something so endearing and cute about his antics that you just couldn’t ignore, and even when you weren't trying to make Bam jealous, it sorta felt natural to hang out with each other more, and maybe you struggled to keep your hands off of each other from time to time but that didn’t mean anything, right? Hell, it was Dico's arm that still sat wrapped around your waist when out of nowhere, Bam suddenly grabbed you in a flash of anger and passion and pulled you into a kiss- one of those really needy, territorial, Jack Danniel’s tinged ones- like a soldier back from war. Surprised as you were, Bran chuckled at the scene in front of him, “Woah! Easy there, cowboy…” When he finally pulled away, you were left in a daze, a pink blush spreading across your cheeks as you finally got what you wanted.

Or you got what you thought you wanted, as you realized a few weeks into you officially dating Bam. For a while, it was everything you dreamed of, all late night sports car rides and rock concert dates with your big celebrity boyfriend. But when your car broke down in the dead of winter and he was the first person you called, all you got back was a voicemail, “Hey. S’Bam. Leave it after the beep.” After the third one you gave up on trying to appeal towards him and just hung up. Shivering from the cold that was slowly creeping in, your stiff fingers finally punched in Dico’s number as a last ditch effort. One ring, two rings, click. “Hey, Y/N! What’s up?” You were never happier to hear his voice, and a relieved smile spread across your face as you sighed, “Oh my god…my, uh- my car broke down- like, half an hour ago. Are you busy right now?” Breathing puffs of smoke onto your hands to keep them warm, you could hear the sounds of him pulling his jacket on. “Nah, just hangin’ out at Bam’s. I’ll be there in five.” So Bam wasn't that busy. Blinking hard, you made a mental note that he was totally dead later before hanging up.

It was as if a wave of relief washed over when you saw Dico’s beater car pull around the corner. Since the day he picked that thing up from the junkyard, you teased him about how he was on tv and still getting seen in the kinda car a divorced dad would drive, but you were never happier to dive into that hunk of junk (through the window, because the passenger side door was stuck). Warming your frigid hands by the half working vent, you shuddered, “Oh, you are a lifesaver!” Smiling, he shifted the car into gear while you buckled your seatbelt. “Hey, any time! I’ll always be there for you, man.” A little glimmer hit your eye at his promise and you could swear your heart was going to flutter out of your chest, “Always?”

“Yeah.”

[corrodedbisexual]

A comparative study of dating dudes vs. chicks

Steddie | T | ~11.3k | AO3 link | now complete!

Featuring: Misunderstandings, Fake/Pretend Relationship (but not really), Mutual Pining, First Dates, Getting Together, Light Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Humor, Confessions, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Boys Kissing, Dorks In Love, Happy Ending

Eddie takes Steve on a date. For research, of course; or at least that's what he assumes from the start. He's just satisfying his straight friend's strange curiosity about gay dating, nothing more. The only problem is, Eddie's never been on an actual date in his life. And the guy he's taking is someone he's been pining after for months.

And yet now he thinks about today, about picking up the guy who’ll probably be wearing a polo shirt with a pristinely pressed collar, and having holes in his own shirt suddenly makes him feel even more inadequate than he did all week.

***

Eddie stares at his reflection in the mirror, spots a hole at the side of his T-shirt, groans and pulls it off over his head, throwing it in a corner with such a force as if the shirt has personally offended him. This is the third time he's changed shirts in ten minutes. It’s so fucking stupid; he's never cared about that sort of thing before. He didn't have much stuff, and he got used to wearing his shirts until they were threadbare; but it never bothered him, it felt like part of his whole metal, anarchical look. Why buy new stuff, when the old is still perfectly usable? Fuck consumer culture, giving money to companies who keep trying to convince you you absolutely need new things all the time.

Subconsciously, Eddie knows it’s not about the shirt. It’s a little too late to be thinking first impressions when someone’s seen you at your worst, with holes not just in your clothes but in your actual body. Covered in blood, your own as well as multiple otherworldly creatures’, and several days old grime, and some disgusting contents of your stomach that couldn’t handle the agonizing pain. Probably smelling like a fucking landfill site, too.

So yeah, really, it’s not about the state of his shirts. He’s just so out of his depth he’s spiraling. That’s why everything feels wrong, even his own clothes.

He never should have agreed to this. But what was he supposed to do, when Steve Harrington batted his pretty long lashes at him and suggested Eddie took him out?

***

It really was Eddie’s own fault. After listening to both his friends for several minutes - Robin gushing about how she and Vickie finally kissed, Steve about some girl he went out with, who was nice but they haven’t really clicked, apparently - when they asked him how his own weekend went, the devil on his shoulder prompted him to blurt out, “Actually, I was on a date too.” Was it jealously? Trying to belong? A stupid hope for some reaction from Steve? Who the fuck knows.

After guiltily coming up with some bullshit to answer Robin’s excited questions - yeah it was fine, yeah they did kiss, no they didn’t know the guy (at least he didn’t have to lie about that part and invent a girl; it was still a bit surreal, having friends he could be open with in that way) - a customer came in, and Robin, having lost a silent game of rock-paper-scissors with Steve, headed over to help him look for a movie. Eddie was left alone with Steve, who’d just been silently looking at him until that moment, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“So, like… You didn’t really say, what did you guys do? Where did you go for your date?” Steve asked, leaning forward on his elbows against the counter, something like genuine curiosity in his voice. 

“Uhm.” Eddie blinked, eyes darting around the store for something, anything, like an idea. With all of his dungeon master improv storytelling experience, his mind was suddenly blank.

Steve, thankfully, interpreted his silence in his own way.

“Shit. Sorry, dude, like, I didn’t mean to pry. I guess I’m just…” He rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging sheepishly. “I don’t know, just wondering. If it’s any different. From going on a date with a girl, I mean.” 

Good question, Steve. Wish I knew, because I’ve never actually been on a date, and it’s kind of pathetic, which, in hindsight, is probably why I lied to you guys.   

Thankfully, Steve’s last sentence gave him another bullshit excuse idea. He quickly compensated his inner turmoil with a huge grin. 

“Well, I wouldn’t know the difference, Stevie. Never romanced a lady myself,” he said, pressing a head to his chest.

Steve laughed, a little awkwardly. 

“Right. Good point. Sorry.”

Despite still grinning on the outside, Eddie felt terrible. As if it weren’t enough, the guilt of lying to his friends, now he was making fun of Steve for asking a genuine question. Something he should be fucking grateful for. He was very aware of the fact that few straight guys in this world would be such close friends with a dude they knew was gay, much less try and engage in an earnest conversation about the queer part of his life.

But what else was he supposed to say? Admit that his dating life was actually a fucking joke? So of course he hid behind the familiar shield of humor and teasing. 

“You’re the one with some background for comparison, though.” Eddie tilts his head, tongue peeking through the teeth in his playful grin. “Maybe you should get a guy to ask you out. For research, you know. Write a paper about it someday. A comparative study of dating dudes vs. chicks, by Steven Harrington, PhD.” 

Steve laughed at that, his cheeks suddenly tinted a pretty pink. And then, he looked up and all but stopped Eddie’s heart with his response. 

“Huh. Yeah, maybe I should.”

Eddie must have been silently gaping at him for way too long, his brain struggling to process the words, because Steve hurried to add with a teasing smile, “For research, of course.”

“Of course,” Eddie replied dumbly. 

“Lucky for me,” Steve continued, dropping his gaze down to the store keys he was fiddling with, “I actually know a certain someone who dates guys. Unless, I mean, he’s committed to seeing the mystery man from this weekend.”

Right. Super committed to dating an imaginary dude. Eddie dropped his head, trying hard not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. When he finally looked up, Steve was still looking at him expectantly, getting visibly nervous by the minute, like he was worried he crossed a line in their friendship, or something. 

“Just to clarify, Steve,” Eddie spoke, trying his best to sound casual. “You’re suggesting that I should take you out.”

Steve looked down for a moment, biting his lip, then back up to Eddie.

“Yup. You should.”

“On a… date.”

“Uh-huh.”

“For research.” 

“Uh.” Steve looked taken aback for a moment, but then, he chuckled. “Right, for research. It’s not like they make movies about that sort of thing. How else am I supposed to write my paper?” He grinned.

Eddie regarded him for another moment. It was a terrible idea. It was bad enough he was having more and more trouble keeping a proper distance from Steve, never letting his occasional flirting falter outside the somewhat acceptable appearance of friendly teasing. His brain screamed at him to shut this whole insane plan down, but his heart was screaming louder. 

Actually getting to experience a date? With Steve, of all the guys? Even if it wasn’t the real deal? Yeah, there’s no way he could turn that down.

“You’re a really weird dude, Steve Harrington.” Eddie shook his head, a resigned sigh escaping his lips. “Pick you up next Saturday? Around, say, three o’clock?”

“A daytime date?” Steve raised his eyebrows, and Eddie panicked for a moment. Had he fucked up already? Did people only do dates in the evenings? 

But Steve smiled and added, “Cool. I’m excited for whatever you’ve got planned.”

“Get ready to get your mind blown, Harrington!” Eddie called out, backing towards the door in a way he hoped didn’t look like running away.

***

The rest on AO3!

[loversj0y]

'tis the damn season

chapter two - you could call me babe for the weekend

alcohol-induced decisions snowball into conversations about the future, family tensions, poetry, and a serious discussion on the bitchiness of orca whales.

'tis the damn season masterlist

pairing: cc!wilbur soot x gn!reader

this part is primarily fluff! im keeping the list of tws in each part just for the sake of clarity

trigger warnings: reader's mother is abusive (not physically) and father is emotionally absent. this will be talked about in extensive detail. alcohol, some suggestive themes, and a lot of anxiety, slut-shaming

author's note: part two baby lets fcking go!!!! this part is insanely sweet but also there are some.... tenser moments due to families being shit tbh (it also becomes abundantly clear here why i consider dialogue my strong suit and not anything else bc i am Not the best at being Descriptive! ao3 version!

word count: 9.6k

You and Wilbur spent the next four days developing a routine. It always started with butting heads with your family and running to Wilbur’s for solace. You two would spend hours talking before falling asleep together on his bed. In the morning, you would walk back to your house, and the cycle would repeat. On the fifth day of this routine, drinks got involved. 

“You brought a whole bottle of vodka?” Wilbur deadpanned. 

“Yep,” you replied, “I’m not sure about you, but I’d like to get at least mostly drunk.” 

He shrugged, “Can’t say I’m doing anything tomorrow that would stop me from wanting to. Plus, we haven’t drank together in years. Got to carry on a tradition.” You mindlessly wondered if he was thinking of the same night you were. “I’ll grab some cups. Want to drink it straight or with a mixer?”

“Both. Start with two shots and then maybe cranberry juice mixer?” 

He nodded, “Alright, to the kitchen we go.” 

You both walked to the kitchen, and he grabbed two shot glasses. You poured one into each, setting the bottle down and grabbing your shot. 

“Ready?”

He picked his shot up and nodded, the both of you throwing your heads back in moments to take the first one. You coughed a bit after swallowing it. You weren’t really used to drinking much anymore, but from the looks of it, neither was Wilbur. He coughed as well, groaning lightly. After you recovered, you started pouring the second shots, and the cycle repeats once more. 

“Fucking hell, man, I forgot how annoying shots are,” you chuckled. 

He laughed, “Yeah, though, to be fair, we completely forgot a chaser.” 

You shrugged, “True, but we have to stay true to our traditions.” 

“Good point,” he grabbed the cranberry juice from the fridge, pouring it into two empty glasses while you washed the shot glasses. He added the ice and the vodka, grabbing both cups when he was done. We headed upstairs, sitting on his bed and putting some random show on the TV. 

“Man, this really does feel like school all over again,” he laughed. 

“You know what they say, ‘when in Rome’,” you chuckled. 

“I suppose,” he hummed, both of you taking sips of your drinks. 

After a moment, you leaned against him wordlessly. He gave you a confused look and you just shrugged. 

“You know,” you started, “for as shit as it is, being with my parents and all, I’m glad I showed up this year.”

“Oh, really? Why’s that?” He snickered. 

You looked up at him, holding your tongue. You were thankful for the vodka giving you an excuse for the redness on your cheeks, but you knew it wasn’t the drinks making you notice just how gorgeous he looked right now. His hair was tousled, probably from the amount of times he would adjust his hair while he spoke. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, drawing attention to the carefully crafted veins that followed from his hands up his arms. There was a slight pink tinge to his cheeks, but you couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or your staring that made him blush. You were only tipsy, but he made you feel completely intoxicated.

In a moment of boldness, you leaned up and kissed his cheek.“Because if I didn’t, I’d never have seen a certain handsome guy again. And even worse, I never would’ve gotten to do that.”

Almost immediately, he blushed furiously, “You get a drop of alcohol in you and get all kissy, huh?” 

You shrugged, and the sober part of your brain was yelling at you to shut up before you did something stupid. “Only with you.” 

His breath hitched, obviously unsure of what to say. His mind was in overload. The person he loves is actively flirting it seems, and he had no clue what to do. He thought about kissing you every day since that first kiss. Truthfully, he thought about it every day since you’d met. In the past, it was only the alcohol that gave him courage to ask. Now, his courage lays less in the alcohol and more in the fact that you were flirting with him, and he knew there would not likely be another chance like this. He turned to face you, gently reaching down to hold your hand. 

“Can I… can I kiss you?” 

You nodded. He cautiously pulled you forward, and after a moment of breathlessness, pining, and anticipation, you closed the gap. The entire world came to a stop as your lips pressed together. The only thing you could focus on was his lips on yours, shaky hands pulling each other closer, and the intense beating of your heart. 

One kiss turned to two, which then turned to three, which then turned to cups on nightstands, a forgotten show, and a lost count of how many kisses had been shared. You had no clue how much time had passed, the only indication of time was the “Are you still watching?” screen proudly displayed on the TV, bathing you and Wilbur in muted light. You pulled away first, completely breathless and admiring the goofy smile on his face as he panted lightly. He reached a hand up, gently brushing his thumb over a small hickey he’d left near your collarbone. 

“Sorry,” he hummed, “got a bit enthusiastic.”

"You're not sorry. I can see how proud you look," You snorted, "But I don’t mind, I just may need to steal one of your jumpers to make up for it.” 

He tapped his chin in contemplation, “I like the terms of that deal.” He stood, grabbing a light blue jumper from his closet and handing it to you. 

You pulled it on over your shirt before looking down at it, “Will, is this your merch?” 

“It may be,” he hummed, “it looks good on you, though, babe.”

You tensed, and it seemed to be more visible than you’d intended as he asked, “Oh, I’m sorry, is that not alright? I can call you something else, or just forego the pet names thing entirely, if that- if that makes you more comfortable.”

You shook your head a bit, “No, it’s… it’s alright. Just not used to it.” 

He nodded with a sweet smile, “Alright,” he sat down again, holding his hand out for yours. 

You smiled, placing your hand in his. He pulled you forward until you were pressed against his chest again.

“Hi,” he chuckled. 

“Hey,” you snorted in response, grinning up at him. 

“You’re very pretty,” he hummed. 

“So are you.” 

“I have a proposition, okay, hear me out, ready?”

You nodded as he continued. “You’re pretty, and you say I’m pretty. And I think, if we’re both pretty, it’d be absolutely beautiful if we kissed some more.” 

You burst out into laughter, nodding. “Yeah, okay. I’d love to make something beautiful with you.” 

He grinned widely, pulling you in for another kiss. At this point, the alcohol had mostly faded from both your system and his. You two were just drunk off each other, becoming a mess of lips, arms tangled around each other, hands in hair, and matching grins. You never felt more thankful for throwing caution out the wind. When you two eventually tired of kissing, you laid your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, keeping you as close as possible. 

“We should probably talk about this,” he said, staring up at his ceiling. 

You sighed, burying your face against his chest, “Probably should. Or, we could wait ‘til morning and just be all cozy and relaxed right now.” 

He chuckled, pressing a kiss into your forehead, “Alright. I am a bit tired, anyway.” 

You nodded in agreement and let your eyes slip shut. Upon noticing, Wilbur started humming softly until you’d fully fallen into the arms of sleep. 

The morning did not end up as peaceful as you’d hoped it would be. You did not wake up in Wilbur’s arms, but rather to the sounds of him frantically moving across his room, clearly panicking about something. 

“Will?” 

His head whipped over to you, “Hi, darling, good morning, or- afternoon, rather, I guess.” 

“Is everything alright?”

He nodded rapidly, “Yep, yes. Yes. I just- I forgot I have an event for stream today and it starts in like five minutes.” 

At that, you grabbed your phone to check the time, startled by how late it was. You were even more startled by the missed call and subsequent text from your mother, informing you of the family holiday dinner that your presence was mandatory for. You groaned, burying your face into the mattress for a moment. The idea of spending another night surrounded by your extended family felt less like a chore and more like court sentencing. Not to mention, you could sense your mother’s kindness was a fallacy she created to convince you to visit. Every moment you were around her you got the sense of her old habits refusing to die. 

“I have to go, too,” You sighed, pulling yourself to the edge of the mattress. 

He frowned, “Family stuff?” 

You nodded. 

“Well, maybe after, if you’re not too tired, we can see each other again. If not, there’s always tomorrow, so,” he walked over, gently kissing your forehead, “we got time.” 

You were acutely aware of the fact that, realistically, you two did not have time. But that point was irrelevant in this context, so instead, you just nodded. 

Wilbur helped you to your feet, gently wrapping his arms around you. You did the same, hugging him tightly for a moment. After a moment, you pulled away and you two stood at arm's length. 

He leaned down, giving you a gentle kiss, “I’ll text you after the stream, alright? Hopefully, then I can give you some escape from your family.” 

You kissed him back, chuckling, “Please, do. I’ll take all the help I could get against them.” 

The walk back home was filled with uneventful dread. You had a few hours to decompress and get ready, but you just didn’t want to go to this dinner. You just wanted to be with Wilbur or to be alone. You opened your front door to see your mother standing in the foyer, and she whipped her head around once you walked in. 

“My God, Y/N, I had half a mind to assume you’d died! You don’t even bother to text me when you’ve gone out, or when you’ve woken up, let alone answer my calls, I-“ She stopped herself mid-sentence, taking in your appearance with disdain: the oversized sweater, the messy hair, and the slight red on your cheeks that hadn’t quite gone away since you kissed Wilbur goodbye. 

“Where were you?” She demanded, “So help me God, you’d better tell me the truth because, I will not have my child being a whore under my roof.” 

You groaned knuckles going white as your hands turned to fists, “For fuck’s sake, Mum, I’m an adult, alright? I’m allowed to have my own life and do my own things, and I am in no way obligated to tell you where I’ve been.” 

“Are you on drugs? Have you been going off and getting high?”

“I wish I was, Mum, because maybe then your accusations would actually fucking make sense.” 

Your mother scoffed, and you watched with horrid familiarity as her facade returned. Her voice took on a new edge when she spoke, one that brought you back to being a scared child, helpless in defending yourself, “Darling, everything I do is for your sake-“

“Don’t give me that bullshit, mum. You did things for me because it was your job when I was growing up, but you haven’t done shit for me except treat me like an obligation since I left to live in London.”

She let out a sigh, clearly trying to invoke your sympathy, “Well, maybe I just miss knowing what my child is doing.”  

You wouldn’t give her an ounce of your pity. “Yeah? Well, maybe if you were a better mother, you’d know.” 

You left her standing there in shock as you stormed back to your room. Maybe that was mean, but you couldn’t care less. She made your life a living hell, and still apparently attempts to, and at least now you didn’t have to cower around her anymore. You could stand up for yourself. You got ready for the hellish evening that awaited you, popping on Wilbur’s stream in the meantime. Thankfully, you were able to find an outfit that covered the physical evidence of Wilbur on you, given his apparent love for hickeys. You finished getting ready and just hid out in your room for as long as you reasonably could. Wilbur texted you once his stream ended, and the two of you continued to text throughout the night, which provided a nice distraction from the politics of a family holiday dinner. Your mother refused to make eye contact with you, clearly still upset about our argument. You paid no mind to her pointed remarks and snarky comments throughout the night. The highlight of the evening, however, was your younger cousin. He was a small lad, just recently turned eight, and was frankly a major iPad kid. The joy came from passing behind him to see Wilbur on his screen. He was watching a Minecraft video by someone named Tommy, and lo and behold, there was Wilbur. You brought up Tommy to Wilbur, and he seemed fond of him, happily considering Tommy his “favorite nuisance”. 

Once enough people had left – and anyone who was still there was too drunk to notice one less person –  you took the opportunity to leave. Once you were out in the light snow, you trekked over to Wilbur’s, shooting him a quick text to let him know you’d be there soon. You were freezing by the time you’d arrived, having left your jacket back in your room. 

He opened the door, pulling you into his arms, “Darling, you’re shaking, come here.” 

You hugged him back tightly, leaning your head into his shoulder, “You don’t know how happy I am to be here with you.”

“It was that bad?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, closing your eyes, “God, I feel stupid”

“What do you mean?” 

“I just- they changed! Or at least, they seemed like they did. Every phone call, they seemed pleasant. I only agreed to even come back because it- it genuinely seemed like they’d changed. But fuck man, they’re exactly the fucking same, if not worse now. I can’t even fathom how I let them get my hopes up again.”

Wilbur didn’t seem to know what to say, instead just rubbing your back soothingly. He spoke up after a moment, “‘m sorry. That sounds like shit.”

“It is,” you pulled away, “I’d rather not think about it anymore, honestly. Not much I can do about it right now, anyway.”  

He nodded, “Well, c’mon. You remember how you asked about Tommy?” 

You nodded. 

“I may have told him about you a bit, and he’s insistent on talking to you. Granted, I told him that wouldn’t be happening, but given the bad night that you’ve had? Trust me, he can make anyone laugh, and you’ll love him, I promise.” 

“Okay, sure,” you chuckled, “If you say so.” 

He took your hand, pulling you upstairs. You chuckled as you followed him. You sat down in the office chair next to him, and he pulled your chair closer to his own, both popping a headphone in. 

“Don’t say anything yet, alright?”

You nodded as he rang Tommy. 

“Wilbur!” Tommy spoke loudly, which immediately made you cringe from the noise. Wilbur turned down the volume.

“Hey, Tommy! Listen, remember that childhood friend I told you I was reconnecting with?” 

“You mean snogging? Yes.” 

Wilbur blushed and you stifled a laugh. “Sure, right. You remember how I said you wouldn’t be meeting them?”

“Why, yes, Wilbur, you said it quite rudely.”

“Right, well,” he gestured for you to say hello. 

“Hi, Tommy. It’s nice to meet you.”

A beat passed. Then two. 

“WILL, YOU BASTARD, I-” Tommy yelled. You were thankful Wilbur had turned the volumn down. He then took a deep breath clearing his throat, “Hello, Wilbur’s friend. Wilbur, I knew you would introduce me, you prick.” 

From there, you and Wilbur spoke to Tommy for a while. He and Wilbur seemed to have this odd dynamic that consisted mostly of just poking fun at each other, but you’d be dammed if you didn’t admit how funny the kid was. Even if a good amount of his comedy was just yelling at Wilbur, it did bring a smile onto your face and even made you laugh quite a bit. Wilbur was right, he did strongly improve your mood after your day. 

You and Wilbur ended up laying on his bed afterward, your head on his chest. His hands carded through your hair, taking care to make sure he didn’t tug at any knots. He spoke up softly, “I know you’ve had a shit day, but we should still probably talk.” 

You groaned softly, sighing, “I hate when you’re right, you know that?” 

“I know,” He chuckled, “I don’t love it either, you’re usually the one in the right.” He took a deep breath before moving on to the actual heart of the topic at hand, “You know, I do really, genuinely like you in a romantic sense.” 

“I really like you too.” You didn’t like him, you fucking love him. But if you knew where this was going, you didn’t want to make this harder for the both of you.

He smiled at this, squeezing your hand gently, “Suppose we should discuss if we’re official then.”

You sighed, a frown adorning your features, “In the sake of honesty, I don’t know if we can be.” His face dropped, frown matching your own as you continued.

“In a few days, I’m going back to London, and I barely have time to focus on anything other than studying. I’m worried that I’d be neglectful as a partner, and you don’t deserve that. Even more so, thinking about the future scares the shit out of me. I’m scared of everything, Wilbur. Don’t get me wrong, I want nothing more than to be here with you and forget about the world. I want nothing more than the ability to have a happy relationship with you. But- but, Will, I’m scared of deciding to go through with this, and ending up losing you because of it.” 

You buried your head against his chest, letting out a shaky sigh. He was silent for a while before he spoke again. 

“I understand. So, how about this?” You looked up at him and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “We have this week. These last few days of holding onto each other and calling each other babe. Then, once you leave, and you get settled in, we see what we can do. We’ll see if you can have the time, or if I can do something, or whatever we can do. And if we figure it out, we figure it out. If we don’t, we wait until you finish this final year, and we pick up from there.”

“You’d be willing to do that?”

“Love, I waited fifteen years to kiss you, and another four just to have you in my life again. A year is nothing in comparison.” 

You didn’t quite know when you’d started crying. You sniffled a bit, wiping your eyes as you nodded rapidly. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. We can do that.”

He smiled at you, wiping your eyes gently, “Okay.” 

You leaned up, placing a hand on his cheek as you kissed him. Your heart felt so warm, but your stomach still felt sick at the idea that so much remained uncertain. Part of you hated the idea that he’d be waiting for you, but a band aid solution felt better than simmering in bubbling anxiety, so you would accept it for now at least. 

He held you close, smiling softly. He pressed a kiss to your forehead gently, “Don’t worry, love. This time, regardless of what happens, I’m not losing you again. You’re stuck with me, honestly, so you’d better hope you don’t get sick of me. Because I am going to be a thorn in your side.”

You laughed, burying your face against his shoulder, “I’ll gladly accept that. I think I could get quite used to the feeling of being prodded by a thorn all the time.” 

He immediately burst out laughing, and you chuckled yourself, lightly hitting him. “I did not mean it like that.” 

He laughed, “Mean it like what, darling? Like this?” He turned, sitting on your hips as he started to tickle you. You squealed, squirming under him and laughing. 

“Will! I- I swear to God, mate, I will- I will piss myself, stop it!” 

He laughed at what could only be described as your suffering, stopping after a moment and just placing his hands on your sides. He leaned down and kissed you, and you wrapped your arms around him, gently playing with the ends of his hair. He hummed softly, one hand coming to cradle your head, his thumb rubbing your cheek. You were both breathless when he pulled away. A lopsided grin stretched across his face, still panting as he spoke, “Do you think orcas make fun of other whales for not having cool designs?” 

You burst out laughing, groaning as you threw your head back, “Wilbur Soot, what the hell?”

“I’m serious!” He laughed, “Do you think they’re mean about it?” 

You laughed, adoring just how bizarre this beautiful man could be, “I think some are. I like to think most are kind, though. Why is this important?” You laughed through your words. 

His eyes crinkled at the edges as he grinned widely, “Everything has some importance to it. In this case, your opinion on if orca whales are assholes or not. I just like hearing your worldview.” 

You flushed softly, “Really? And of all the things you’d ask about, why the bitchiness of orcas?” 

He hummed, “Well, one, whales are fucking amazing. They’re gigantic and insane looking, I fucking love them. Two, it’s serious to me, but it's not serious. I know your politics, and you know mine. But silly stuff still reflects you, so I’m curious. Now that I can, I want to know all of you in every tiny detail, I want to absorb everything that I’ve missed in the past few years or all the things I just may have forgotten to time. I want to know the parts of you that you have never shown before, and I want to know the parts of you that don’t exist yet. Hence, asking a question you’ve probably never thought of before. I want to learn you as you learn yourself and show you the beauty that lies in each detail.” 

You blushed darkly, left speechless. The word, love, was not strong enough, didn’t feel quite right, to fully define just how much you felt for this man. Telling him “I love you” would never fit how much you truly felt for him. You refrained from saying it for now, eventually just grabbing onto him and pulling him into a tight hug. 

“You have no idea just how much you mean to me,” you whispered against his ear. 

He kissed the side of your head, whispering back, “Darling, I know more than anyone just exactly what you mean.” 

You held him, tighter, as if he’d leave you the same way you left him if you’d let go. After a moment, tears began welling up in your eyes. Not bad or good ones, but ones that signified just how loved you felt and how much you felt for him. 

“Darling, you’re shaking, is everything alright?” He pulled away, frowning, “You’re crying, love, what’s going on?” 

You shook your head, smiling through the tears, “No, it’s not bad, I’m just- sorry,” you spoke in a light sob, and he shook his head. 

“Don’t apologize! I’m just worried, did something happen?” 

You smiled widely up at him, “No, I’m just overwhelmed,” you said, and when his expression fell, you quickly tacked on, “Not because of you! You just, um, you make me feel… seen, I guess.” 

He smiled, wiping tears away, “I’m glad, then. You deserve to be seen. You’re beautiful, and amazing, and… everything. Even if I am the only one who sees you, at least then, someone knows how grand your existence is.” 

You groaned, blushing again, “You can’t just say things like that, you twat,” you sniffled a bit. “It’s too nice.”

“It’s true,” he shrugged, “simply deal with it.” 

You laughed, pulling him in for another hug, “I’ll learn to, I guess.” 

He buried his face against your neck, nodding, “Good.” He pressed a few gentle kisses along your neck. The kisses started delicately, as if he was worried that kissing you too hard would hurt. As you relaxed further and further into each kiss, you could feel him grin softly against your neck. His kisses slowly became more heated. They became languid and rougher, but never painful. He eventually escalated to covering your neck with hickeys, your hands carding through his hair. You fully relaxed in his arms. You kissed the top of his head, and he looked up at you, grinning softly. 

“Sorry,” he hummed, “May have gotten a bit carried away.”

“It’s alright, I quite like them.”

“Oh, really?” He went to add more to the mosaic on you, but you held him back. 

“Yes, but I’d much rather kiss you myself.” 

He pulled himself up, grinning down at you, “Gladly.” 

Things were still and quiet in the morning. You rested your head against Wilbur’s chest, his arms securely wrapped around you. Overnight, it appeared that the snow had gotten stronger, so there was a slight chill in the room that had you moving further into Wilbur’s arms. 

Wilbur pressed a gentle kiss to your head, “Morning.”

You hummed, looking up at him, “Morning.” 

The room settled into a comfortable silence, both of your brains still stirring awake. His head shifted towards the window, calling your attention to the snowflakes gathering on the sill.

“You know I’m not letting you walk home like this?”

“What, in the cold?”

“Yep. And not to mention you look… a little wild.” 

“Coming from you that’s a compliment. I’d argue you probably look worse.” 

“I could make you look worse.”

You snorted and laughed, laying your head on his chest again, “You’re in a mood this morning.” 

“I’m just happy that you’re here.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve woken up here recently though.”

“No. But it’s the first time we’re able to kiss and relax when we wake up together.” 

You smiled, “True. A nice contrast to yesterday.” 

He hummed, “Today will be a better day.” 

You chuckled in agreement, holding tightly to him. 

He gently rubbed your back, kissing the top of your head. 

After a moment, you looked up at him. “We have to get up at some point, you know.”

He hummed, turning you both over to splay his body weight on top of you. “‘m sorry, what was that?” 

You laughed, “Okay, okay, don’t crush me, we can just sleep in. At least until like midday.” 

He cheered, getting up on his elbows and covering your face in kisses, “Yes! Good! Rest time!” 

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re good at convincing. Helps when there’s something in it for me.” 

“Like what?” 

“A kiss, hopefully.”

“Gladly,” He chuckled. He leaned down, lips meeting yours in a quick motion. You kissed him back, your hands playing with his hair gently. When you pulled away, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you on top of him and squeezing you tightly. 

“Will! Are you trying to kill me?” You laughed as you asked him breathlessly. 

He lightened up a bit, chuckling, “Nope. Just trying to keep you here forever.” 

You hummed, sitting up on his lap once he gave you the space. “It’d be an honor to be here forever.”

“In our secret oasis.” His hands came to your sides, lightly rubbing up and down. 

“It’s your childhood bedroom, but yes, if you want to give it the dramatic name. Our secret oasis.” 

“It’s secret because no one knows we’re here.” 

“What about Tommy? Or the thousands of people on your stream?” 

“Tommy doesn’t know my exact location. And I’d fucking hope my chat doesn’t either.” He laughed.

You laughed, “Okay, okay, I get it. It’s our secret place. Though I’d argue the back field where we had our first kiss is probably more of our secret place.”

“Oh, god, don’t remind me of that kiss. I was so nervous to kiss you. I practically chugged half the vodka to try and calm down.” 

“I was nervous too! My cute, dorky, best friend who I’d secretly been crushing on, wanted to kiss me? Yeah, I freaked out a little bit.”

“It didn’t seem like it! You seemed so composed!” 

“Only because I was so nervous.” You leaned down, pecking his lips. “We should try and go back there one of these days. Maybe recreate that kiss with fewer nerves?”

“Would you put your prom outfit back on?”

You lightly slapped his chest, gasping at the implications, “You gremlin.”

“I’m serious! You looked really good.”

“Would you wear yours?”

“Mine still vaguely smells like vomit, so, no.”

“Then I won’t be wearing mine.” You stuck your tongue out at him. 

He pouted, “Fine. To be fair, you could be wearing anything and I’d find you gorgeous.” 

You flushed, “Even in a dinosaur costume?”

“Oh, especially in a dinosaur costume.” 

You laughed, “Okay, Soot. I’ll wear that if we ever go on a date.”

“You mean when. We will be going on a date without a doubt.” 

“Oh? And what would we do?” 

He hummed, “Well, we couldn’t be out in public. For your safety and privacy. Plus, I know you don’t like fancy places much anyway. So, probably a picnic. But, with some takeout from a good restaurant since my cooking isn’t fantastic. And then, just coming back to my place, or yours, and watching a movie.” 

“That… sounds lovely, actually.”

“Actually? Rude.” 

You chuckled, “Sorry, I’ve just become used to the idea of a date being ‘come by my place so we can drink surrounded by shitty roommates and trash.’”

Wilbur looked horrified, “Darling, I am going to change that. No more gross college boys. You deserve to be treated so much better.”

You blushed, “Thank you, Will. I’ll be holding you to that, though.”

“You don’t even have to worry. I can’t believe you had to even deal with people like that, Christ. I’m going to raise your standards.”

You hummed, “You already have.” 

Pink rose on Wilbur’s face, and he reached a hand up to your cheek, “I’m glad then.” 

You smiled, leaning forward and playing with his hair. 

“We should go,” you spoke up, “Back to the field, I mean. Might be a nice way to just get out of the house a bit.” 

You nodded with a hum. “When?” 

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, “Later after we’ve taken a nap.”

“Wilbur, we’ve just woken up.”

“Yeah, but you make me comfortable. Plus we had a lot of fun last night.” 

You lightly hit him, “Get your mind out of the gutter, Soot. A nap does sound nice though.”

He grinned, “Doesn’t it?”

You leaned down, placing your head on his shoulder and landing a soft kiss on his cheek. He turned his head to grin lovingly at you, parting the curtain of your hair with one hand while the other held you close to him. 

By the time you woke up again, it was well past three. Wilbur was already awake, his hand gently carding through your hair. It was a bit warmer now than when you’d woken up initially. You yawned, stretching as you woke up. 

“Morning, darling,” he smiled as he looked down at you. 

“Morning, again,” you chuckled softly, sitting up properly and rubbing your eyes. 

He chuckled, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “You hungry?” 

You nodded. 

“Want to go to the cafe? It’s probably pretty empty right now.” 

You chuckled, nodding again, “Yeah, that sounds nice. Mind if I borrow a jumper?” 

He hummed, “Go ahead. Take your pick.”

You stood slowly, grabbing a big yellow jumper from his closet. You changed quickly, trying to conserve enough warmth while Wilbur changed as well. 

You finished getting dressed, turning to him, “Are we walking there?” 

He hummed, peering out the window, “We could, but it might be safer if we don’t. It’s not snowing anymore, but it could start up again.”

“I could drive us then. We’d just have to walk to my place.”

He nodded, “Alright.”

Taking his hand in yours, you walked downstairs and outside into the cold icy streets. 

The walk to your house was peaceful, breaths visible in the air, as you and Wilbur walked hand in hand. When you reached your front door, the serene air surrounding your walk shattered upon realizing you had to face your family. You just had to go in and grab your keys. You repeated it like a mantra in your mind. You considered telling Wilbur to wait outside, but before you could, he squeezed your hand. 

“It’s alright, I’ll be with you the whole time, okay?” 

You nodded, looking up at him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You let out a breath, letting go of his hand to open your front door. You tried to make a B-line for your room, but the sound of the door opening seemed to have alerted the home, as your aunt swooped into the foyer.

“Oh, my goodness! Little Wilby! My, how you’ve grown!” She squealed out, the rest of your family coming up quickly. Everyone was quick to dote on Wilbur, having known him for just about as long as you had. 

“Sweetheart, is that where you’ve been sneaking off to? You should’ve told me you were hanging out with Wilbur, we could’ve invited him for dinner!” Your mother seemed innately pleased in the notion that you were with Wilbur. It only made you want to get out of there faster. Wilbur didn’t seem too overwhelmed speaking to your family, but you knew that it was starting to get to him slightly so you took charge. 

“Right, well, we’re planning to head to the café, so we’d best get going. I just need to grab my keys,” you grabbed Wilbur’s arm, pulling him quickly to your room, and ignoring the calls of protest from behind you. 

You let out a breath once you got in, looking up at him, “Sorry if they were kind of all over you.” 

He smiled softly, “It’s alright,” he pulled you forward, kissing the top of your head. He was quiet for a moment before a frown replaced his smile. “They haven’t changed,” he hummed, “I thought you told me before you left that they were getting better” 

You sighed, “I thought they were,” you leaned your head against his chest, “They only got better because I was there to mediate. Now, they’re just as toxic again.”

“Well, you should grab a bag and put some clothes and stuff in it. That way you can spend the majority of your time not here.” Wilbur suggested, gently rubbing your back.

You looked up at him, a soft grin adorning his face. You smiled back, “That sounds like a great idea.”

You pulled away to start grabbing stuff, Wilbur sitting down on your bed. You wondered what he was thinking about. Vaguely you wondered if he was getting that same feeling you did the night you went back to his room to listen to him play music. You wondered if his eyes roaming around meant that he was also reliving the memories you two had here, the number of times you had snuck out of your window, him showing you random videos to drown out the fighting of your family, complaining over schoolwork or professors, and just existing hip to hip. 

Once you’d packed up, you walked over to him, grabbing his hands. “You’re thinking about something.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I am.”

“What’s in that head of yours, Soot?”

“Thinking about the future.”

Oh. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, neither of us live here anymore. And you’ll be leaving London eventually. So, I’m thinking about where we go from there.” 

“Well, depends on where I get a job, I suppose.” 

“Lots of jobs in Brighton.”

“Will,” you laughed, “That doesn’t mean I’ll be able to find one there. I’m studying fucking English. Not much I can do anywhere I want.”

“You could work for me.”

“Will-“

“No, I’m serious. You used to help me with DnD campaigns. You could edit scripts or lyrics. You used to write poetry, don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

You sighed, “Will, I’m not sure that would work. I’m not sure dating my employer is truly the best solution here.” 

“For Tommy, then, he probably needs more help with his scripts than I do anyway.” 

“That could cause problems with you and Tommy if something happens, and I don’t want that.” 

“I’m just saying, there are options. You could do remote work and just live in Brighton.”

“Brighton is expensive.” 

“It’s cheaper than London.”

“Not by much. Rent is still insane in Brighton, trust me, I’ve looked.” 

“Not if you split a place with me.”

Your breath hitched. 

“Wilbur…”

“Just hear me out, okay, we’ve known each other long enough to know how we’d work together. I’m not losing you again. We could find a nice three-bedroom, so we could both have our own rooms and office space, and we could make it work. Then, once we’ve saved enough, we could move to fuckin’ America or something, wherever we want to go, we could do.”

“America?”

“Anywhere you’d like to go, I’d follow you. America’s just my pipe dream.” 

You sighed. It could be a good option, honestly. 

“I’m just not quite sure yet.”

“And you don’t have to be! You’ve still got a year til graduation. I could find a place in that time, so by the time you’re ready, we can do it.” 

You squeezed his hands, hanging your head, “Maybe I’ll think about it.” 

He seemed to let out a breath of relief, “That’s all I ask.” 

You nodded, placing your forehead against his gently. You and he shared a silent moment, just breathing together. His hands slowly moved to wrap around your waist, pulling you in to tight hug. You hugged him back just as tightly. And though he would never say it, you knew exactly what fear ran through his mind. You knew exactly what he was afraid of. That you refused to be as dedicated to this commitment between the two of you as he was. Because there remained a lingering fear in you that this would not last. This pocket of bliss would rip a seam at the bottom and fall into another void of unforgiving remnants of time where your promises went to die. 

You both managed to sneak out without too much disruption from your family. A snarky comment about keeping it clean from your uncle as you shut the door to your house would not deter you, as most things they could say now couldn’t. You two sat in the car for a moment, waiting for it to heat up. He connected his phone, putting on some music to hopefully put the both of you in a better mood. 

The drive was short, with little words being shared beside Wilbur singing along to the music. Neither of you wanted to leave the car, despite the slightly tense atmosphere. After parking, you reached over and grabbed his hand, holding it tightly. 

You scrambled to think of something to say to break the tension. 

Thankfully, Wilbur had you beat, “You used to like filming things.” 

“I- yeah. I still do, I guess. Just don’t have time for it anymore.”

“Would you ever want to do it?”

You thought for a moment. “I mean, yeah, maybe. I’d still love to make a music video or something one day.” 

He nodded, “You could do it. Youtube and stuff, I mean.” 

You sighed, “Will, I just don’t have the time to start. And by the time I can make money from it, it’ll be way too late.”

“I know you want to think about this more, but, all of my Youtube friends need help with people that film that they can trust. If you want to go that route, there are options. Even if it’s not for me or Tommy, I know people. And then it’ll give you time to start your own account, and I can help you with that! I can promote you, even,”

“Not that. If I do it, I don’t want to blow up completely out of nowhere. I’d want to be used to it first.”

“But you’re thinking about it.” 

You laughed, “I’m thinking about it.” 

He raised his other hand in cheers, “That is a win for me. I’ll take it.” 

You laughed, tugging his hand, “C’mon. Let’s go eat.”

You turned the car off, and he quickly bolted out of the car and went to your side to open the door, “Hurry, hurry, it’s freezing out here.”

You laughed, taking his outstretched hand and standing, “You chose to be chivalrous, take your punishment.” 

He let out a whine, tugging you into his arms, “Come here, I need warmth.”

You locked the car, letting out a loud laugh, “Okay, okay,” you wrapped your arms around him, rubbing his back, “Let’s go inside, it’ll be warm in there.”

He nodded, letting go of the hug to pull the both of you inside. You both went to order, and he turned to you while you waited, “What do you think you’ll get?” 

You shrugged, “Probably just a coffee and a muffin. Just something small.”

“Do you still get them the same way?”

You nodded. 

“Alright. Could you do me something then?”

“Uh, depends.” 

The person in front of us moved, making us up at the register. 

“Could you go grab me a napkin? I think I touched some ice or something.” He held his hand up, thumb swiping over his fingers and palm. You knew how he was when it came to weird sensations, so you quickly replied. 

“Oh, sure,” you turned, walking to the sidebar to grab him a napkin. You walked back over to him as he was paying, handing him the napkin.

“Thanks! Also, I ordered and paid for you.” 

You stared at him, shocked for a moment. After a moment, you spoke, “Did you even need a napkin?”

He shook his head quickly, “Just needed you to walk away so I could pay for you.” 

You blinked at him, lightly hitting his arm, “You ass. Don’t do that.”

“What? Pay for you?”

“Yeah.”

“You simply cannot stop me, love.”

You groaned, “I swear to god. I’ll start paying for your shit too.” 

“I’m taller than you, therefore faster. Good luck trying.”

“I hate you so much.”

“Yeah? I don’t think you do,” Wilbur snickered, before lifting a hand to the collar of his sweater. You flushed when he daintily pulled the fabric back to reveal the hickeys you had left on him the night before. You switched your gaze to meet his and he winked, only flustering you further. You pressed your head against his shoulder while he just laughed at you.  

You sighed after you’d calmed a bit, “I’ll find a way to pay you back.”

“You do pay me back. Just by being with me.” 

You hid the way you blushed, “Sappy.”

“Only for you.” 

“Hush. I’ll make you flustered right back.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Well, I c-“

“Order for Wilbur!”

The barista called out, saving Wilbur just in time for the not-exactly publicly appropriate thing preparing to leave your mouth. Wilbur walked forward, grabbing the order for you both and walking to a booth in the far corner by a window. You both sat down, and he passed you your coffee. 

“Light roast latte with caramel?” 

“How do you even remember that?” 

He chuckled, “I just do. I said earlier, I want to memorize you, and that includes all the tiny details. Like your coffee order. And the fact that you prefer regular chocolate chip muffins to the double chocolate chip muffins because you think it’s too much chocolate.” He handed you your muffin after, and you flushed once again. 

“It is too much chocolate.” You spoke simply, not quite sure how to respond. Part of you felt guilty that you didn’t remember these small details about him, so you continued with, “I’ll have to relearn anything I’ve forgotten about you.”

That caused him to flush slightly, “Really?”

“Yeah. Can’t be sharing the pieces of me to a stranger, after all.”

“I’d argue we’re much closer than strangers.”

“True. But I need to have you memorized as you have me.”

He smiled, a gentle smile that told you he was grateful, “That’s true.”

You bit into your muffin. There was a soft smile on your face that you tried to hide by lowering your head. He saw it, though. You knew he did. 

After you finished eating, you took your drinks and returned to the car. You duetting him for the songs you remembered, the old Los Campesinos! he taught you back when Aleksandra was still in the band. You were going to turn to his home but stopped when you saw the street your school resided on. You turned down the street, parking in the old lot between the school and the old church. They were both covered in holiday decorations, a grave reminder of the short time you and Will had together. But you tried not to think of it. 

Instead, you looked at the school, thinking of the day you chose to leave. 

When Wilbur caught sight of you, he spoke up, “Memories?”

You nodded, letting out a sigh, “Thinking of our last day there.”

He nodded, “That was… a day to say the least.”

“It was a good day, for the most part. We were so excited. I just…”

“What is it?” 

“I knew for two weeks that I’d be leaving… I don’t know why I waited until that day to tell you. I spent all day knowing that it was the last day I’d probably see you. I keep thinking that maybe I should’ve told you earlier. Maybe I should’ve done something so that you’d beg me to stay. And things may have gone differently.”

“To be fair, I didn’t exactly take the news well.”

“Well, yeah, but-“

“Do you really think I would’ve let you go? I would’ve been so angry that we wouldn’t have had a good last few weeks or days. I was a petty person, so at least by waiting, we had a good day before the fight.” 

You sighed softly, “I guess so.”

He took your hand, going quiet for a moment before speaking again, “I should have asked you to stay. Instead, I just forced you away because of how angry I was. I should’ve tried harder.” 

“You know I wouldn’t have stayed. I wouldn’t ask you to wait for me after all. I just… wish you could’ve been happy for me. I know we were both yelling a lot, but it did hurt. It was my only way out of the house. I wish you could’ve at least been happy about that.” 

He sighed, “I am, now. Despite the hell hole that London is, it’s better comparatively. I’m just happy for you a bit too late.” He gently reached a hand up, brushing some hair out of your face. 

You took a deep breath, leaning into his hand. “We could talk about should’ve-beens and would’ve-dones until we’re blue. Maybe we should just talk about now.” 

“You think so?”

You nodded, pulling the lever at your seat to recline back. Wilbur did the same, and you turned to face him, getting comfortable. 

“Do you think bees dance to communicate because they find it fun?” He asked after a moment. 

“Sadly, no,” you hummed, “I think because they do it for work, they don’t find dancing fun. They probably find things like conference calls fun. Or paperwork.”

“Do you think they operate on a capitalist or communist type system?”

“They don’t have currency, so neither technically, but closer to communism. If they were capitalists, the bees would’ve gone extinct long ago.”

“Do you think they’re going extinct now because they tried to switch to capitalism?”

You laughed, “That I know is not true. I saw the Bee Movie, they’re dying because humans aren’t getting into weird relationships with them anymore.”

That led Wilbur to burst out laughing, hitting the seat of the car as he laughed. You laughed as well, mostly due to how happy his genuine laugh made you. 

You glance at him between your own laughter, a fond look taking over your features. Once he’d calmed a bit, he made eye contact and smiled, giving you an odd look, “What is it?”

“Hm?”

“Something’s going on in your brain, you’ve never looked at me like that before.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I’m not sure yet. Could be a dangerous thing.”

“Oh, really? Dangerous how?”

“Well, it could make me do this,” he placed a hand on your jaw, gently pulling you in for a kiss. It was a bit awkward, given the lack of support brought on by the gap between your car seats. However, it was warmer than the cold that seeped into the car and that still resided in your chest just by being home. 

He grinned when he pulled back, thumb gently stroking your cheek, “You know, since you’re staying at mine for at least two days, you could be on a stream.”

You chuckled, “At least?”

He nodded, “At least. It’s the bare minimum. My actual estimate is for the next five days,” you only had seven left, “you’re ignoring the point though.”

You thought about it for a moment, “Would I have to be seen?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“And what would they know about us?”

“Just that you’re my friend.”

You hummed, “Maybe. Will Tommy be there?”

“Do you want Tommy to be there?”

You snorted, “Not necessarily. Plus, you mentioned that he has a bit of an issue with spilling information.”

“Oh, yes, he does.”

“Well then, we’d better make sure that if I do, he’s not there. Don’t need him making another joke about us snogging.” 

He laughed, “That’s a good point.” 

You smiled softly, “Is your chat nice?”

“To me? No. To guests? Always.”

“Good, I’ll like them then.”

He gasped, “Fuckin’ rude. You’d better side with me. They will try to side with you, so you’d better only side with me.”

“I will do as I so please, Mr. Soot.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“It is.”

“Well, it just so happens that I, too, will do as I please. Which includes this,” he leaned forward, kissing you again. 

You kissed him back lovingly, pulling away with your hand on his cheek this time, “Well, it just so happens then that our interests aligned at that moment.”

“Oh? So you’re saying kissing me pleases you?”

He was trying to make you flustered, but it wouldn’t work this time, “Yes. It does.”

He flushed instead, leaning forward, “Well, if it does, then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“Not at all,” You kissed him once again. 

After a routine of kissing and Wilbur breaking to ask his weird questions for about two hours, you two eventually decided to leave the parking lot. However, you took the long route home, the two of you just driving around to see your old hometown. 

“You remembered my love of poetry earlier,” you commented after a moment.

He nodded, “It’s always been big for you, even if it’s something you don’t like to talk about.”

You nodded pensively before continuing, “Have I told you one of my favorite poems?”

“You have a lot so you’d have to be more specific.”

You chuckled softly, “It’s The Road Not Taken by Frost. Have I told it to you before?”

He shook his head, “No, you haven’t.”

You hummed, “It’s much more of a recent favorite. Anyways, I really recommend it. I’d recite it, but-”

“No, do.”

“But I don’t have it perfectly memorized anymore. I used to. I have the last stanza memorized still, but you need the context of the rest of the poem to understand.”

“Let me find it, hold on,” he pulled out his phone and found the poem, beginning to recite it out loud to the both of you. When he reached the final stanza, you joined in:

“I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by, 

And that has made all the difference.”

He was quiet for a moment as he processed the poem. “So what does it mean?”

“Well,” you started, “it's become a recent favorite because of us. There’s irony throughout the poem. The subject is the road he did not take, the choice he did not make, to the point where he says that instead of telling us he took the common path, he should be telling a story years later about how he took the road less traveled by and it changed his life. I keep thinking about how the road less traveled for us would’ve been me staying, and how different everything may have been. Things could’ve been completely different for us.”

“That’s interesting. I like the poem. But, I really like the path you took.”

“Really?”

He nodded, “think about it. We never talked about the prom kiss until recently. If you’d stayed, we probably never would have. We might’ve just been stuck pining for each other til the end of time.”

“So you wouldn’t change anything? Even the fight?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t, at least not without some sort of guarantee that we’d still end up together. I think we’d always be in each other's lives in some way. But with the way things worked out, we got together, rather than just staying friends,” He sighed appreciatively, “Not to say I wouldn’t be alright with if we’d stayed friends, but at least this way, we have a shot at this. And maybe we would’ve eventually found each other again and got together, and all the hurt wouldn’t have been necessary, but I know I wouldn’t take the chance of changing anything without knowing we’d reach this point again.” 

You stopped at a light, turning to look at him, “It was worth it then? All the loneliness and upset and anger?”

He nodded, smiling softly, “Absolutely, if it meant getting us where we are.” 

You blushed, looking back at the road. You didn’t think he could still make you shy at this point, yet in nearly every conversation he seemed to one-up himself. “I’m glad,” you spoke quietly. He gently squeezed your hand.

You pulled into his driveway, parking quickly and grabbing your bag from the backseat. 

“Let’s go in. I want to get cozy.” You hummed.

He nodded, “Of course. Did you pack your laptop?”

You nodded.

“Want to play Minecraft?” 

The two of you rushed inside from the cold and quickly made a matter of getting as comfortable as possible. You snagged one of his hoodies this time, pulling on a pair of nice sweatpants as well. While he went to get dressed, you snuck downstairs to the kitchen to make hot chocolate for you both. He seemed to be a bit distracted with getting his computer turned on and making space for your laptop, but after a few minutes, you heard his footsteps coming down the stairs. 

“Darling?” 

“In here,” you called out, stirring the milk you’d heated to combine with the chocolate.

He stepped in, wrapping his arms around you gently, “Hot chocolate?

You nodded, leaning your head back against him, “Figured it’d be nice to have a treat while we game. Just like the olden days,” You chuckled.

He grinned, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek, “Thank you.”

You turned in his arms, smiling up at him, “Of course, Wil. You feelin’ all cozy?”

He nodded, smiling back at you, “Very much so. I got you whitelisted on my server, so we can play together. And if any of my friends join, you could meet them, as well.”

“Oh, yeah? Like who?”

“You could meet my bandmates. Sometimes they’re on around this time. Tommy probably won’t be on, but my friend Quackity might, you’d like him I think. There are some others as well, but some of them I can wait to introduce you to when you visit me in Brighton for the first time, a lot of them live around there. Plus, then you won’t have to see my friend James’s embarrassing Minecraft username.”

“What’s his username?” You laughed.

“JamesDoesMining.”

You burst out laughing, and he did as well. “Don’t even bring it up to him, he will try to defend himself.” 

You leaned up and pecked his lips, “I won’t. Can you grab the mugs?” 

He nodded, leaving the hug to grab two mugs while you turned off the stove, taking the ladle and pouring you and Wilbur’s cups of hot chocolate. 

You both headed upstairs, getting cozy and preparing for a calm night of gaming and being together. 

taglist: @shubblelive / @superioritycomplexes / @your-shifting-gurl (send an ask/dm me if you want to be added)

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Everything Has Changed--Ch. 28

Chapter 28

Nick

            “No. No effing way,” I snapped at Matt as we stood beside my Nissan in the parking lot of LAX. “You can go without me.”

            Matt rolled his eyes and banged his forehead against the roof of the car a few times. “Nick, come on. We don’t scratch, and we’re booked for a trio. You’re going to have to get over it eventually.”

            “Like hell I do!”

            “What are you going to do, avoid Kenny forever?”

            Anger flared up in my chest and I shoved away from the car. I laced my hands over my head, tugging down on my Clippers hat. What did Matt expect me to do? He hadn’t been there. He hadn’t seen what Kenny had done to Shaye. He had no fucking clue how she’d completely broken when she’d seen Kota come out that door. My brother knew that Kenny could have a selfish streak, and there was no doubt that he was so absolutely enmeshed with Kota Ibushi for the rest of his life.

            Behind me, Matt let out an exasperated sigh. “Help me out here, Nick. I don’t understand how it was so bad that you’re willing to bust up the Elite. To end the Young Bucks.”

            “I never said I wanted to stop wrestling with you!”

            A pressure started to build up behind my eyes.

            “It’s pretty much the same thing, man. The three of us said we’re going to do this together,” my brother said with a forced calm. “If the Elite are over, what’s the point?”

            My teeth clenched, and I swear I thought I was going to scream. I tugged on the brim of my hat and paced along the paint line beside the car. The longer it went, the more I felt as if the whole world had turned against me. That no matter what things he’d done, Kenny Omega would always be able to get away with anything.

            I threw up my hands. “Okay then. If that’s how you see it, then fine. I’m done.”

            Matt’s eyes went wide, almost as if he couldn’t believe that I’d actually said the words. “What? Nick…”

            “No. I’m out. You and Kenny tag together. I’m sure you’ll be fantastic.” The words dripped in sarcasm as they fell out of my lips. I shoved my way past him and yanked the door open. “Find your own fucking way home.”

            Before Matt could say another word, I started the car and peeled out of the space. Maybe it wasn’t fair to leave him in the middle of the parking lot at LAX. But just then I didn’t care. It was me or Kenny. And it looked like my brother—my best friend—had chosen Kenny.

***

Shaye

            It was sickening how easy it was. I wanted to hate myself for every breath I drew because I’d fallen back into this rhythm with Kenny within a matter of days that made me feel somehow sick inside. Dirty. As if I were doing something horrible.

            Damon hadn’t spoken to me since that night I caught him sneaking out his bedroom window. He wouldn’t even look at me. I knew with every fiber of my being that I’d let him down. That I’d turned out to be what he thought I was—just another extension of our parents who looked at him and saw him as a screw up. It didn’t matter that I didn’t really think that way. My brother had convinced himself that I did, so there was no changing it. Damon Walker was as stubborn as traffic in midtown at rush hour.

            “Do you know when you’re coming back here?” I asked, absolutely hating the whining neediness in my voice. I sank beneath the covers on my bed, pulling them up to my chin.

            “This weekend. I’ll be in California for a couple shows with the Bucks,” Kenny replied in that smooth, low tone of his that felt like sinking into a steaming hot bath. There was still something about him—even knowing everything that had happened and every lie that he’d told—that could ease me down to my bones.

            I sucked in my breath at the mention of the Young Bucks. I’d pretty much cut off contact with Nick Jackson after the last time we’d spoken. It wasn’t fair to him, whatever this was. “Oh, awesome.”

            “Why? Do you want to come?” It wasn’t hard to imagine that he didn’t sound very enthusiastic about that prospect.

            “No!” The word came out in a half croak, half scream. “I mean, it’s okay. I have work anyway.”

            Kenny chuckled, and I felt a shiver rush down my spine. Like someone had dropped ice in the back of my shirt. “Don’t want to see me?” When he spoke again, his voice was hard. “Or don’t you want to see Nick?”

            “I…” My heart dropped into my toes. I thought I was going to vomit. “I…”

            The laughter that came down the line was dark and heavy. I’d never heard his voice like that. “Shaye, are you hiding something?”

            My guts turned inside out. I couldn’t breathe. My mouth was dry, filled with cotton and sandpaper. I gagged as I tried to suck in air to keep from throwing up.

            “I… I’m… I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I whispered, too afraid to speak any louder. Tears burned the back of my eyes. “I just can’t. I can’t come to California.”

            “You weren’t invited anyway,” he said flatly.

            I squeezed my eyes shut as the world started spinning beneath me. The words were so angry, so hurtful. It felt like he’d slapped me. “I know.”

            Kenny took a breath, almost as if he had to work up the patience to stay on the phone with me. Who is this person? I thought. This isn’t Kenny.

            “Come on, Shaye,” he said at last, his voice returning to something resembling his normal timbre. “I’m messing with you. If you don’t want to come, you don’t have to. It’s okay.”

            A piece of the knot in my chest let go, but there was still a sense of ice and lead deep in my stomach. I hated myself for this. For how easy it had been for him to drag me back, even if I’d walked right back into the fire of my own free will.

***

Nick

            “What the hell did you do?” Sam screamed at me from the other end of the phone. “Why am I driving to fucking LA to pick Matt up because you left him in the parking lot of the airport?”

            I rolled my eyes and thought about throwing the phone out the window. “Sam, I really need you to stop calling me and yelling. Or just yelling in general.”

            “Don’t cop an attitude with me, Nick Jackson,” she growled. “I had to leave the studio after I’d just back varnished a brand-new canvas to drive to LAX through traffic to pick him up. You are not going to talk to me like that.”

            “I’m not doing this. Not right now, not later, not tomorrow.” My head throbbed. I was more exhausted than I could ever remember being after a loop. “I just want to go home and crash. Please, leave me alone.”

            She went quiet for maybe the first time since I’d known her. The silence stretched for several minutes, so long that I thought the call had dropped. Then I heard her voice, sharp as glass. “Okay. Fine.”

            Then she hung up.

            I slammed the heel of my hand into the steering wheel and swore as I threw my phone into the passenger seat. This day just kept getting better and better.

________________________

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[pixeldistractions]

When Colette made it down to the kitchen, she was pleased to see homework books open and being worked on. One less thing to stress about. Dinner though. She called in an order for takeout. Colette didn’t cook. Actually, that was another thing Jordan left them to deal with on their own. As it turned out, he cooked more than she did. And even when he didn’t cook, he often brought leftovers home from the hotel kitchen or brought the boys in after school for dinner.

So much for that. But Colette wasn’t broke, and they would eat somehow.

“We can go on the train,” Milo suggested after she’d hung up the phone. “We can ride it by ourselves. You don’t even have to take us.”

“No,” Colette said. “You can’t, actually. Not until you’re ten. And I’m not sending you to live in a camper. But since you all love to go behind my back, why don’t you tell your dad to get a real place to live? He doesn’t even have electricity—did he tell you that? Could you live without all your video games for even a weekend? Just finish some of that homework. I do not want another email from your teacher. C’s are not acceptable. And I hate your hair like that, it’s too long.”

“God, Mom, chill,” Felix said. “Maybe if you weren’t so crazy all the time, Dad wouldn’t’ve left.”

She felt that one like a dagger in her gut.

Milo didn’t chime in, but he didn’t defend her honor, either.

Those boys would never know how close they’d come to seeing their beloved game console spiked through the center with the sharp heel of her pump, shattered into pieces, then scooped up in a dustpan and thrown into the bay.

But she didn’t do that, because she was a grown-up. She was the one who held everything together and cleaned up everyone else’s messes.

To hell with both of them. To hell with everything and everyone.

She closed her eyes, balled her fists so tight that her fingernails made crescent-shaped indents in her palms. “I’m having a bath,” she said. “That homework will be finished by the time I’m done or God help me, I will throw your games into fucking bay! And if you don’t think I can throw that far from here, I dare you to try me.”

There was tension in her shoulders that she needed someone to pound out. She could also use a good pounding, but she couldn’t begin to imagine how to make that happen now. Jordan had been good at giving both, once upon a time. Shame he had to fail her in absolutely every other possible way.

She had her yearly checkup that morning.

Your blood pressure is high. Are you getting any exercise? Eating fresh fruits and veggies? Making time for self-care?

Please. Her children’s father fucked off to the wilderness on a journey of enlightenment or some bullshit and excuse me, fucking self-care? Can you just get the exam over with and get me out of this paper gown?

Colette didn’t have any date to go on. She did match with a trauma surgeon on her dating app, and he did sound very successful. She had been hopeful that he could administer a good pounding, or at the very least, maybe he could help with her high blood pressure. But she didn’t have a babysitter for the boys, because their father was a flake.

The boys were asleep and their homework books were stacked by the time her bath was finished. She wasn’t going to check the homework. She knew there was no possible way Milo could complete his fifteen missing assignments in one night.

They had eaten the takeout she ordered, and she didn’t order anything for herself. She would eat rice crackers from a paper bowl.

Self-care? She cleaned a whole man out of her house, and maybe that was her self-care.

What few things he left here she threw in the trash—a toothbrush, a small pile of dirty work clothes, a pair of muddy boots. As it turned out, she never let him keep much here in the first place.

But the couch smelled like him, like orange soap and wood chips and campfire smoke. So she trashed that, too. And she bought another one. She spent a whole paycheck on it, and she framed the whole room around it. This wasn’t the kind of couch anyone would ever sleep on. The leather was cold and hard, the angles sharp, the color was an eye-searing fuchsia, and the design was exquisite. It was like a piece of art.

She bought a flamboyant vase for a very fake plant. She bought a thin bookcase for books she wouldn’t read. The room felt beautiful and hollow.

— from “boxes and squares #4.1: first fall apart” (4/5)

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[wheredafandomat]

Someone great 💚P21💚

Loki x Divorced! Female Reader

18+ | contains a lil smut

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Opening your eyes, you pulled away with a disgusted expression painting your features. You wiped your lips thoroughly as if they had just been contaminated with some sort of lethal chemical. You stopped yourself from gagging, standing to your feet and stepping away from Bucky as he stood up too. You felt overwhelmingly nauseous, incredibly sick at the audacity of James Buchanan Barnes.

“Don’t you ever EVER do that to me again or I swear to god I’ll get a restraining order.” You spat, speaking before Bucky could.

“Y/n—”

“I’m not your wife, your girlfriend or your friend for that matter so stop with this there for my girls bullshit because I’ve had enough of it, enough of you.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re going to leave and you can come back in the morning.” You instructed.

“Y/n, please—”

“Leave” you cut him off “and by the way, me and Loki aren’t fucking, we’re having passionate loving sex because I love him” you began, taking a step towards Bucky “I love Loki.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched at your words as he looked down at you for a few moments before finally breaking eye contact and stepping away from you. You released a breath as he did so. He turned away, beginning to walk off before he paused as if he was going to speak again before you did.

“And tell Alexis before I do, she deserves more than a cheating bastard.” And with that, Bucky left.

You made your way back towards the coffee machine before making one and taking it with you to see Olivia before you settled for the night. Reaching her room, you placed the coffee down before kissing her on the forehead and whispering a goodnight. You still felt terrible, how could you not have known something was wrong? Despite what everyone said, you felt like an incompetent mother. You took your coffee out with you as you made your way towards the accommodation rooms before taking your phone out and debating whether or not you should text Loki. You had ruined things with him, perfect things. You practically sided with Bucky earlier and completely shut him out. He didn’t deserve that, he deserved better. What a great start to your relationship you sighed inwardly.

Sitting on the bed, you began typing a message to Loki but deciding to delete it before sending it. You went through a vicious cycle of typing out a message, only to backspace the whole thing and exit the chat. What if he didn’t want to speak to you? What if he wanted the relationship to end? You felt deeply connected to him now, you loved him, you couldn’t picture your life without him in it now and now things were ruined. You wished you had realised sooner, admitted your feelings to him sooner. You typed out a simple I love you message before backspacing again as you remembered his reaction to when it accidentally slipped out last weekend. He didn’t seem like he reciprocated your feelings. You didn’t deny that he liked you but loved, that was pushing it too far. You decided that you’d forget about the whole Loki situation at least until after you and Liv were back at home. Putting your phone down, you swapped it for your coffee before you got a notification.

Loki💚: Hope you’re okay :)

You smiled as you read the message. Wasting no time, you called him.

“Y/n” he began, answering the phone almost instantly.

“Loki I’m so sor—” you cut him off.

“Don’t—” he answered.

“No I need to—”

“No don’t” he stated again before taking a deep breath “it’s fine, I understand you’re going through a difficult time and I’m sorry that—”

“You don’t need to apologise Loki.” You interjected incredulously. There were a few moments of silence, both of you pondering on what to say next before he finally spoke.

“Do you need me to bring you anything?” He offered.

“You Loki, I need you.”

“I’m on my way.”

You hung up the phone, unable to contain your small smile. Yes, you were overjoyed that Loki was coming but it didn’t change the situation you were in. It did however make you feel less alone, better, knowing that you hadn’t completely ruined things with him and that he was willing to be there for you. You wondered if it was better to just stay friends with him, at least you wouldn’t have to worry about feelings getting in the way or another stupid argument jeopardising things. If you were just friends, you’d always be that and he’d always be in your life. That was better. A promise to always be there. You could learn to fall out of love with him, to at least suppress you’re feelings for him. To remain friends. That’s what you’d be, well, it’s what you thought you’d be as you paced the room thinking until you looked up seeing Loki standing there and you knew it was too late, you were too far gone, you were deeply in love with him. Your heart told you so when it started to beat faster. Your brain told you so as it quietened down, only focusing on Loki. Your body told you so when you began stepping towards him, wrapping your arms tightly round him as he hugged you keenly, kissing the top of your head. This felt like home, not Buckys embrace but Lokis.

“How did you get here so quickly?” You finally queried, lifting your head from his chest.

“I stayed in the carpark incase you needed me to bring you anything or drop you home or something.” He replied, his hand smoothing up and down your arm.

“Your lip.” You gasped, seeing it cut before noticing his nose looking a little banged up too.

“Does it make me look more intimidating?” He chuckled.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” You laughed, grabbing his hand and directing him to the bed. The best part about being injured in a hospital was the access to first aid kits. You grabbed some cotton balls and rubbing alcohol before cleaning away the dry blood on Lokis face with it. You stood between his legs as you dabbed at his face, your eyes occasionally meeting. Once you had finished with his lip, you dried them before kissing them softly.

“Thank you.” He spoke against your lips once you broke the kiss.

“Will you stay here with me tonight?” You asked, unsure whether or not he’d say yes.

“Of course.” He nodded.

“And I need to tell you something.” You added, brushing your lips against his.

“Mhmm?”

“I love you Loki Laufeyson.” You finally admitted properly, unsure what his answer would be and not really caring. You loved him and you had to tell him. His next move surprised you as you yelped, being pulled onto his lap as he kissed you passionately, his tongue pushing past yours.

“I love you more.” He answered before kissing you again. You were certain his admittance was more welcomed than Buckys one on your wedding day. You changed your position so that you were straddling Loki as you continued to kiss. His hands moved over the sides of your body, under your shirt before he lifted it over your head, his lips exploring your exposed chest. You rolled your hips against his, his evident erection poking at your core. You really did feel wicked now knowing that you were about to literally get railed in a hospital but you were too madly in love to care plus Loki was literally rolling one of your nipples between his fingers as he licked the other one, rational thought had left you quicker than your first boyfriend did when you pranked him saying you were pregnant.

“I love you.” You spoke in Lokis ear as his hips rocked against yours, filling you slowly as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You softly scratched his scalp, revelling in the sensation as he repeated it, lifting his head to kiss your lips. His movements were so slow, so consuming, it was crazy to think that this wasn’t even the first time you had had sex with him today and yet now it felt completely different, as if there were higher stakes. You wrapped your legs around his hips, needing to feel him closer, wanting to stay enveloped by him. Once you both finally came, it was intense, gratifying and one of the best orgasms you had ever had, all things aside. You and Loki both laid in the bed, wrapped around one another as you continued scratching his scalp.

“I want there to be no secrets between us so I should tell you that Bucky kissed me earlier.” You admitted. Lokis jaw clenched for a second before he kissed you softly.

“Well then I’ll have to replace his kiss with a hundred of mine.” He smiled against your lips. He knew there was no point getting angry now, that wasn’t the focus. The focus was you, your daughter; his new family.

Uncle Thor time soon 😂 y/n’s daughter is in hospital and she’s like getting railed in the next room

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[altschmerzes]

for those of you playing along at home, i made it through the funeral/memorial/whatever. honestly could’ve been worse.

this is long and probably tmi but im processing out loud ig. probably should just keep a journal instead but here we are.

yesterday sucked ass mostly because like. at some point in the last two years since i started law school/moved to canada my father sent me some package at my grandmother’s house. yes this is after i made it very clear i did not want to see or hear from him. years after i made that clear. he did this fairly regularly - tried to give me things or pass messages through my sister or my mother or grandmother. anyway she asked if i wanted it, i was like. uh. No. and i guess she kept it for Some Reason because when i was very briefly at her house before heading to where the memorial happened today she pointed me at a pile of my things she wanted me to look at and there was a package. and on autopilot or something because ive been completely f r i e d out of my gourd this weekend i made the mistake i havent made in YEARS and opened it.

and i gotta say if i were going to ignore my daughter’s very clearly communicated boundaries and attempt to get in touch with her after she made it extremely clear she did not want me to do that SIX YEARS AGO at the time my go-to method of somehow persuading her to drop her decision to go no-contact wouldn’t involve [checks notes] a pearl necklace and a three-plus page letter about how nothing was ever my fault.

threeeeeee and then some pages of self-pitying guilt trip about how everyone turned their backs on him and other people kept us apart (as if that was the problem, the years of his absence rather than the years of his abuse) and how he knows the alcohol was bad but he’s off it now! he’s had such a hard life! i should stop punishing myself and other people! he won’t be around forever! (ISNT THAT IRONIC. LMAO.) after finishing this letter he TWICE decided he needed to add extra bits about how things don’t have to be like this, they can be better, and how im making “uninformed decisions” about him without knowing “the whole story.”

yikes.

anyways. that sucked and fucked me up real bad but my fiancé and i burned it last night on the beach and i threw the pearls (pearls? really? PEARLS?????) into the pacific.

then today. it was honestly fine. none of his friends seemed to even know i refused to speak to him, as they talked to me like they were assuming i was around all the time and super involved in his life. not sure what to make of that but it made it very easy to smile and nod and thank them for coming and not worry about anything further than that. he knew some cool people honestly. they were pretty neat, and his partner of 11 years, effectively my stepmom, is kind of awesome tbh. no idea what she was doing with him. and also my sister only yelled at me in front of some 50+ people once. for my sister this was a win.

and my brother came.

that was….. shocking. i had been in contact with his mom on and off about this but it was NOT clear at all if he was gonna show up. i figured not, honestly, because he’s so hard to get ahold of and none of us have seen him since 2016. but he came. and he brought his kids. my nephew is going into fifth grade and my niece is starting second and oh my gd they’re great. they’re adorable and funny and such sweet kids and i hand to gd thought id never see them again. now it looks like they’re going to come to my wedding reception when we have one out here so my family can attend something. it’s…. i didnt think id ever see or speak to him again and definitely not the kids. but there they were. i stood next to my brother with his arm around my shoulders and mine around his waist while my mom gave a little speech to everyone who was there thanking them for coming and felt him breathing and couldn’t believe it was real. i dug around in the sand with my niece and my nephew must have hugged me about a half-dozen times. they’re good, sweet kids and my brother is a kind, patient father.

tomorrow’s gonna suck, taking a redeye home, gonna land at like 5 am tuesday and then have to cross my fingers and hope border control is chill with me, this whole situation has been a complete nightmare (except for my wife being there, thank gd) but today was as good as it possibly could’ve been. it’s probably gonna take me a while to really like….. even out from this, i think, but it’s almost over and then i get to live the rest of my life without worrying about ever seeing that man again.

what he did to me is going to follow me the rest of my life but HE won’t because he’s fucking dead and im alive and that means i won.