#i talked about how i wanted a new computer at the beginning of the year

[dairy-farmer]

I've got this Brutim/Brudick idea I wonder if you've written before. So we all know how Bruce could be invasive and controlling to his kid's personal life. At one point he crossed Tim's boundary, boy is offended and Dick is all in to backing Tim up against Bruce. Dick has been there done that, more than happy to fight for Tim's freedom, as Dick has been secretly frustrated in Tim's stead since the younger was outrageously lenient and forgiving with Bruce, and yet Bruce still fucked it up.

The kick in this is what if Bruce actually pulled back? Like they managed to hit him where it hurts and he eventually gave in, agreeing to all their terms? Tim then gets to move out, "taking a break" from being his Robin, and Bruce must remove all his means to spy on children without their knowledge and consent. Dick doubted Bruce will follow through with it any longer than a week, but he's happy enough that Tim finally got to move out from Wayne manor.

Things went smoothly for them, they found no hidden camera, no tracker, no uninvited drone nor interception in their communication during solo mission, warning them of possible threats. Bruce didn't even get to know where Tim lives now! In the beginning, he will have to go through Dick first if he called on the phone and wanted to talk with Tim. Dick has this schadenfreude as he waits and sees when Bruce will snap, so he will have even more justification to keep Tim away. Dick kind of tries to fix his own trauma from his past with Bruce through Tim like that.

But weeks turned into months and Bruce hasn't folded. At one point, Tim randomly utters that he missed Bruce while hanging out at Dick's place. And as a good brother, what else can Dick do but suggesting them paying a visit? The boy's face brightened up more than when Dick showed him his new apartment.

So together they gave Bruce's a head-up and drove back to Wayne manor. The way Tim jumped to embrace Bruce gave Dick an itch inside. They had a family dinner, where Bruce gracefully received whatever of their life updates that they are willing to reveal to him (Tim did it more enthusiastically than Dick). Right when Dick slyly commented that Bruce seems to do better, the man also sheepishedly admitted that he has been getting therapies. He worked with this psychiatrist, picked up that hobby...hey, there's that countryside farm he came twice a month just to pet the animals! Tim wow and ah at all the new experience Bruce shared, while Dick just sat there in shock. All the years before Dick has begged Bruce to seek help and it never got through. When Bruce caught words that Dick was getting therapies himself, all the man had to say is that's a waste of time and Dick has risked leaving a trace of sensitive files behind his back. Though the delayed anger didn't hit him until Dick returned to Bludhaven again.

On Tim's side, he didn't tell Dick how he has been anxious since the communication shutdown with Bruce. Back then he can always rely on Bruce watching out for him, filling in for him what he ought to miss. He's still doing fine on his own, that's true; but whenever he walks home alone at night, or when he's about to sleep, this anxiety will creep up with the knowledge that Bruce or his tools as the extension is no longer watching after him. Whenever Dick came over as they agreed to search for possible tracker and chip, only to find nothing, Tim would bite his lips and hide his disappointment. Dick doesn't know Tim searched his apartment and his computer almost everyday by himself; on occasion where Tim passed out of drunkeness or exhaustion, he would even search his body the next day for biotracker! He always knows before Dick that Bruce really pulled back.

Tim also made the extra effort to "spy" on Bruce, naturally without Dick's knowing. He started with asking Alfred on the phone how Bruce's doing, nothing too strange. Then he started listening in Oracle's network, while carefully covering his trace. It's basic detective works really, it didnt take long for Tim to get in on every new things Bruce picked up to get better as he has promised. And however Bruce has wronged him before, Tim felt like he then has the heart to forgive Bruce.

Though it surprised Tim that during the visit, Bruce didn't take the offer of him moving back in. Bruce said he was right that both of them need space, and encouraged Tim to take the time for self-exploration like Bruce does now. Tim has no other choice but to agree, like how he has no other choices but left some of his "tools" back in the cave and the manor before he left. More than to spy on Bruce, Tim starts to leave behind clues and holes in his privacy for Bruce to find. His new address on a piece of paper he meant to give Alfred, but forgot on the coffee table. An "undeleted" pathway in the Batcomputer that linked to all the camera in Tim's new home. Records of Red Robin and Nightwing's communication lines that somehow got picked up by Oracle's intranet. Tim even submitted the wrong email address in his new period tracker app, so Bruce will accidentally receive a pop-up on Tim's ovulation as well! I just like the idea of Tim trying to make Bruce relapse into his old pattern of obsession, while Dick is fighting with his inner monster on the side.

That's all I have for now, have a great day! 🐑

!!!!! dick being so angry with bruce and funnelling his anger through using tim as a proxy stand in for all the hurt and anger he's felt towards bruce because of his invasiveness and refusal to stop, respect boundaries, or get help. dick thinking he's punishing bruce and getting back at him by using tim only for bruce to actually TRY to get better, to actually seek out therapy and TRY to improve for tim's sake. and dick being so conflicted about it because he's wanted bruce to do those things FOR yeaRS but he never did, not until he took tim away from him.

and tim, it wasn't even his idea to close bruce out. he'd always taken a sort of comfort from all that bruce did and so him deciding to try and make bruce break by giving him all these ways to invade his privacy, trying to stop him from getting better and to relapse.

tim sabotaging the thing dick has wanted for years, dick being angry that bruce is doing the thing he's wanted for years but he's doing it for tim and bruce trying to be better but struggling, now even harder because tim is trying to get him to slip up because he misses him.

[eccentriccryptid]

Being in business school is so fucking wild, I'm starting my last semester and so we're doing intro posts(as you do) and we have to give an anecdote about how we are as a consumer and so many people are talking about how loyal they are to brands? I just want to scream brands are not your friend!! Like I get sticking with something if it works for you but I'd never say I'm loyal to a brand that's so wild to me idk.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITAH for telling my wife no?

My wife (35f) and I (38m) have been married for 12 years, dated for 3 before that. We have 3 kids (10m, 7f, and 5f). We both work full time in separate fields, she does some chemistry thing that I don't understand and I am a manager at a computer repair store my friend runs, and also a short story writer when its slow. She is definitely the breadwinner bill payer between the two of us, but I bring in the fun money for our family and would be completely listless if I didn't at least work part time. We also fully own our home because of her job.

Also, my parents watch the kids for us during the week when we are working. It's been this way since our son was born, and they've been doing it less since they are all in school. But it's free childcare, they refuse to accept money unless it's reimbursing for buying food.

Ok, now that all of that backstory is set, here's where the problem begins.

A couple of months ago my wife started pepper into conversations about a possible promotion coming up that would get her out of the lab and into a more "manage the lab team" position, with less dangerous hours for more pay. Ever since the first time she mentioned it I've been hyping her up and telling her she's a shoo in for the promotion, especially since she's been working there since her masters internship and now she has a PhD.

Last night she told me she was getting word today if she got it! After she left for work this morning I called my boss up and told him I couldn't come in today, and then told my parents the kids were saying with me. We spent the day cleaning the house, drawing congratulations cards, and making a congratulations banner. We also made a couple cards that say sorry and we love you for if she didn't get it. I was working on making her favorite dinner (lobster rolls with lobster bisque, because she's a fancy lady) when she got home earlier than normal. Everyone was surprised, because noone is usually home at this time and yet here everyone was. She got tears in her eyes seeing everything we were still working on, got down and hugged our two youngest, and said she got the promotion! Cheering all around! And that's when she dropped the bomb, saying we need to get a realtor in a state three away from us so we can relocate within the next two months.

I was stunned, and just said no, we arent moving for this promotion. In all of her talks she never mentioned that the promotion wasn't for the same location she's been at. All of our family is here, her parents and mine, all of our friends are here, my job is here. She insisted that she's mentioned relocating before but I swear she never did. That set of a completely new argument about never listening to her and only hearing what I want to hear, and how this will make it so I can stay home with the kids and not even need a fun money job. During this I noticed she was typing on her phone, and when I asked why she was multitasking an argument she said she was texting my parents to get the kids so they don't have to see this.

When my parents got here they congratulated her on the promotion and asked how long until we move.

She told my parents the promotion included relocation.

I'm typing this on the couch in the basement, because I can't face her right now. My parents knowing means she probably did say we would need to move if she got it. I don't want to move, I like my job, and our house. I like being near my parents. I know this would practically set us for life but I don't want to. I know I'm being selfish, and I know I must not be listening when she talks, but I still don't think she should accept the promotion. I still think no.

What are these acronyms?

[lowkeyremi]

LITTLE THINGS HE DOES atsumu x fem!reader

note: my tsumu fever is coming back jeez

content: fluff, established relationship, hcs + drabbles (divider)

Boyfriend!Atsumu who feels like he's coming on too strong in the beginning of your relationship.

"Shit, 'Samu. I don't know what to do, I wanna ask her to stay the night but that might be too much, right?" Osamu, who has heard his brother complain a million times just sighs, "Just ask her ya bonehead. Ya'll never know unless ya ask." Atsumu groans, throwing a tantrum in his apartment because he's unsure of what to do.

Boyfriend!Atsumu would pretend he didn't know you in public to save himself from being teased by others. (it's what he did in his last couple of relationships)

"Hey, 'Tsumu. We still on for dinner at your brother's?" You'd ask, looking super pretty in that hoodie he bought for you. "What..? Do I er- know ya?" His friends all start laughing, which was embarrassing to say the least. When he called you to apologize you blew him off with, "Do I know you?" (Dw! he never did that again. It might've been alright with his past gfs but not with you.)

Boyfriend!Atsumu who absolutely LOVES buying you stuff. There doesn't have to be a reason, he just likes spending his money on you.

Your legs were in his lap while he unconsciously massaged your feet. You're working on a paper that's due in a few days and Atsumu out of boredom watches you type whatever you're talking about in your paper. He thinks it's cute, everything you do is cute.

"How long have you had that thing for?" It takes you a second to realize he's talking about the laptop you saved up to buy for yourself, senior year of high school.

"Hmm, I've had it since senior year of high school so maybe 3 or 4 years?" He hums in delight at your response, "Let me buy ya a new one baby, it'll be better than that old thing."

"A four year computer is fairly young and I worked hard to buy this one! Don't shame my baby." It's adorable how offended you get unintentionally. "Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee."

Two days later your friend is commenting on your new laptop during a lecture.

Boyfriend!Atsumu steals kisses ALL the time. He loves you so so so much! If you say no to kisses he'll get one anyway.

Atsumu's hands are wrapped around your waist, his front meets your back. "Atsu, I already told you when I finish cooking you can kiss me all you want. I don't want either of us to get hurt." Did I mention you're cutting up veggies?

A guttural whine leaves his throat. You can feel the vibrations of it on your back. "Atsumu."

Before you can even process what happens, Atsumu quickly pecks your cheek. It's not your lips like he wanted but it will do for now.

Boyfriend!Atsumu who loves talking about how big and strong he is (to make you swoon of course).

"Hey babe, just got back from the gym, notice anything different?" Nothing particularly looks different about him, but you risk him pouting if you say the wrong thing.

"I don't know, Tsum Tsum. Tell me." His frown is almost immediate. He looks like a kicked puppy and honestly you don't feel too bad. He's likely exaggerating as per usual.

"I worked on my legs today for ya. Know you love my thighs." His thighs look the exact same as they had when he left for the gym but you don't tell him that because he'd get whiny.

"Look at you, gosh you're built." Hopefully it doesn't sound too fake and he buys it.

"Ya think so?" He says with a chuckle. Checkmate.

Boyfriend!Atsumu who steals your t-shirts and underwear because "ya steal my stuff why can't i steal yers?" and "it's for me to smell when i miss ya."

"Atsumu.. where is my favorite t-shirt!?" Your favorite (singer/band) is doing a meet and greet today and you wanted to show your love by wearing their merch, which you can't seem to find.

"I dunno baby, s'probably at my place. S'the one ya wear all the time so it smells like ya the most." He shrugs as if this were not that big of a deal.

"Tsumu! Go get it!!! I'm going to that meet and greet I was telling you about today!"

Husband!Atsumu who LOVES to tell people how you two got married.

"Yeah, and I got down on one knee for her and she was like 'Tsumu is this a prank?' she was leanin' back too far into the fountain she was sittin' on and fell in!" Bokuto absolutely looses his shit. He doubled over laughing, alongside Hinata.

"It's not that funny." You grumble, sitting next to Atsumu's best friend teammate, Sakusa.

"He tells that story to those two anytime he gets the chance too. I'm surprised they still find it funny after the 1 millionth time hearing it." Sakusa agrees, his arms folded up and his eyebrows furrowed. You're sure he's scowling under the mask.

"Yeah, welp. That's my husband I suppose."

"He sure is." Sakusa implies the way Atsumu is always talking about you.

"Well my wife.."

"Let me see if my wife wants to come."

"I'm heading home! Gotta go see my wife!"

"Now if it were me and my wife.."

(WE GET IT YOU LOVE HER!!!!!)

note: just a little something to feed y'all until i finish my gojo project. love you guys XOXO (XO until we OD)

[rboooks]

The Adoptive Son. Part 2

Dick tries his best to keep his smile as Danny Crowne fumbles with his laptop, attempting to show Dick all the fantastic features he programmed onto it.

Don't be wrong; he enjoys new software, and the stuff Crowne made was awe-inspiring. He just wished it wasn't being used for one of his most disgusting crimes.

Babs, who was recently super into coding, had been all but foaming at the mouth when she got access to the new writing application Crowne Industries put out.

Yes, she got access a bit earlier than most since she hacked into the system attempting to find evidence of criminal activity, but she had tested it out and wanted it for herself.

"This writing program has an automatic save option after a certain amount of time goes by." Crowne blushes a little, looking bashful when Dick sends him a winning smile. "I-ugh, I forget how often computers crash, taking with them hours of work, so hopefully, this will help tired college students. It even has a way to retrieve lost files, just in case something does get deleted."

"Wow, you made all this by yourself? That's so impressive." Dick purrs, allowing his hand to land on Crowne's knee. The other man jumps slightly, looking down at the hand like he's never seen one before. At least this mission was easy.

Crowne's had plenty of people flirt with him over the years of his adoption. Dick had watched him at galas, sidestepping any courtship attempts like a well-practiced waltz. He charmed so many would-be suitors simply by his prince-like mannerism, silver tongue, dripping good looks, and of course, very large wallet.

He had thought it meant that Crowne was experienced in this sort of thing. Imagine his surprise at the beginning of the mission; Crowne fumbled through his flirtations and seemed so awkward it was almost endearing.

Danny Crowne didn't make much sense to Dick in this way.

He quickly became one of Gotham's most eligible bachelors and one of the first openly bisexual ones. Despite his adoptive parents less than ideal views on the gay community, Crowne never hid that part of himself. Once he had taken over the company, he had even gotten charities set up to support the gay youths of Gothams. He practically funded the Pride Celebrations, even more than Bruce, which showed how he became the new head of Crowne Industries

In four short years, he had snatched the company from the jaws of bankruptcy and dragged it to the top again. Everything they made was so revolutionary, even Bruce had been tempted to ask Crowne to join him for the first two years.

Back then, Dick had thought Crowne was weird.

All the guy did was talk about tech, and when he wasn't, he was staring into space or attempting to get into different equipment so he could take it apart and figure it out.

Crowne had been invited to his birthday party a few months after his adoption. Dick had seen him arrive, but he vanished from the room not long after- at the time, he didn't blame the other. The rest of their classmates were snobbish and a pain to be around- he later found Crowne pulling out one of his light sockets to check the wiring in Bruce's house.

It may have been the cheap light he was using, but Dick swore he had seen the guy's eyes glowing while he muttered to himself in an unknown language.

The Crownes had been mortified, forcing Crowne to apologize profoundly for ripping Bruce's things. Bruce had to play his part of Brucie, so he had laughed it off, asking the boy why he had done it in the first place.

" I meant no offense. I apologize for allowing my curiosity to cross a line. I was only interested in how advanced your home is. I figured the Wayne's would indicate where the world's leading systems would be." Fourteen-year-old Danny Crowne had told Bruce with a sweet smile that was far too wide and eyes that were far too bright.

It creeped fourteen-year-old Dick out so much he actively avoided the adoptive son of the Crowne for the last four years.

Now he wishes he had paid a little more attention. Maybe then he would have caught on to Crowne selling street kids on the black market.

"It's nothing, really." Crowne laughs nervously, flushing read as Dick gently rubs his knee. He smirks inwardly as the other man fumbles. "I couldn't have done it without Tim so-"

"Tim?" That's a new name. Dick quickly pressed the recording device that Bruce had installed into his bracelet. He hated that he was working with his ex-mentor again, but this was too big of an issue to allow his hurt feelings to get in the way. There were so many kids at stake.

"Tim Drake. His parents are out of the country a lot, so I started babysitting him when he was eight. He's thirteen now, but I got temporary guardianship of him when I turned eighteen. He's my pride and joy. " Crowne clarifies with a growing smile. Dick wanted to punch his teeth in for acting so loving, so caring, so fucking kind when it came to children.

He swallows the urge with incredible difficulty. "He sounds great."

He did know Timothy Drake, actually. The boy was his neighbor for years but didn't stand out much. He always looked like a little doll at the galas, vanishing from sight once his parents' backs were turned.

Dick often thought the boy was out of the country with his parents, primarily when they enrolled him in homeschool when he turned eight.

To think the Drakes were working on making a good relationship with Crowne since he first showed up, and no one within the Bats noticed. It was a little troubling.

Were the Drakes involved with the trafficking ring? Were the world trips just a means to smother out poor victims? Were they using their son, or was Tim Drake part of the scheme?

More questions and not enough answers.

"Y-you could meet him if you want," Crowne coughs, playing with a specialized keyboard- it was so flat. Dick had never seen a slimmer design- his face was a lovely red hue. "I have him for this month, so he's back at my apartment with his babysitter."

Perfect an opening.

"Mr. Crowne, are you inviting me back to yours?" Dick asks, allowing his voice to turn husky with sinful promise.

Crowne face turns even redder. "I didn't mean to assume, but...ugh, are you hitting on me?"

Dick almost laughs.

"I am." He says even as he thinks If only you weren't a scum bag. You are not ever going to get this lucky, you disgusting pig.

"Thank the Ancients. I was worried I may have interpreted your intentions. I would be honored if you accompanied me home-but, not for sex! I mean, I wouldn't be opposed to sex at a later date-just dinner? I can cook." Crowne closes his eyes as if pained, and Dick wishes he was the person he was pretending to be.

Oh well.

They all have their own masks.

Dick just happens to be someone who was bestowed with a criminal. He slips it on as quickly as his NightWing one, throwing an arm over Crowne and placing a tracker on his neck. The bastard didn't even notice. Good.

"I would love that Crowne."

"Danny." The man says with a warm relieved smile. "You can call me Danny."

"Then you can call me Dick"

Dick will have this man rotting away in a jail cell soon. He swears it.

(Part 1) (part 3)

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE STRATEGY CALL

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. in which the stark racing f1 team talks about the 2025 strategy and beyond

content warnings. written in 3rd person

word count. 1.4k words

notes. with this chapter i wanted to involve a bit of politics and 'realistically' explain why stark racing won't immediately win a wdc (because with the whole set up, it would be possible). f1 are politics and no matter how many drivers say cash is king, connections have sometimes more worth

"welcome, everyone. thank you for tuning in", greets tony with a big smile on his face, spreading his arms as if going in for a hug.

"as you can see, i'm not currently with any departement, i'm doing the finishing touches in my own lab back in new york... since i don't want to drag anyone here to the US for meetings, we will proceed like this until january next year."

"now, i know it will be annoying with dragging your equipement with you and it's also unsafe, since you know... data secrets bla bla- so, in the next few days, each stark racing employee will receive the so called 'tactical intelligence glasses', which you can see me wearing. it's voice activated and can only be used by the one who sets it up, which will be you!" while speaking, tony fiddles with a pencil in his hand and starts walking around in his lab, showcasting it to every viewer.

"to cut things short, you'll receive a tutorial on how to use these glasses and set them up once you receive them. if you ever lose them, don't worry, we can track them. destroying them is pretty hard, but please don't try to make it a challange... our plan is to use them not only during meetings but also during the race, to keep our data from the cameras. with netflix, paparazzi and other cameras from the news, it's easy to steal data that shouldn't be accessible."

"alright then", he ends his ramblings with a clap, "we're going over the interesting part now. let's talk strategy..."

y/n let's her father's voice wash over her, her own glasses perched on her nose and feeding her constant information. in front of her are two holograms, projected by the hologram table in the meeting room she's currently in. the standing figure of her father and the presentation he's currently rattling off, all of it in a glowing blue.

next to her sits kevin, her future teammate, exhausted from the long 24 season but still paying attention. the rest of the room is filled with their team, the race engineers and trainers- each of them having their own glasses on.

to outsiders it looks like they're clowns, but it's a common sight in stark industries. decades ahead of the general public, stark stands for the future. of course they're trying to push it to the outer world, selling hologrammic equipement to both the industry but also private customers, but it's a slow progress.

the marketing team of SI hopes with their public use of the glasses and other devices they'll attract more customers, leaving the age of apple and samsung behind and instead welcoming the age of holograms. powered by starkanium, the production of phones, tablets, computers- anything really, is much cheaper and enviroment friendly than what's currently dominating the market.

shaking her head, y/n focuses on the presentation again. of course she knows it by heart already, she helped writing it, brooding over the strategy with the team ever since the team got announced.

"... the plan is to finish between 5th-3rd on the construction championship. not higher, not lower. we don't want to place higher, because this is our testing season. we will be practically sandbagging from the beginning, not revealing our true power for 2026."

yes... the construction championship. it will bring in money, not that they would need it, but it will justify the expenses they're going to make during the season to prepare for their second one. y/n is under no illusion, if they want, they could go all out and snag at least p2, if not p1. maybe she would even get her world championship- only then for everyone to say she won because she's driving a stark machine and not because of her own skill.

it sounds arrogant, she knows. but y/n believes, no, she doesn't only believe, she knows, she is one of the best in the whole world. if she can go against her father in an iron man suit, who can be only piloted by less than ten people in the world... winning in an f1 car is nothing.

but they've already made enemies for not waiting until 2026 like audi, 'enemies', who have much more pull within the motorsport world than them, simply because they're already established. christian horner is one, followed by toto wolff, the iconic red racing team not far behind.

with they're entry, they didn't make friends on the paddock, so for their first season... they can't be too good. or else their future seasons will be ruined.

it's stupid, to think like this, to think so far ahead, to think of others, in a sport where winning is everything. but it's not. cash and connections influence everything you do, how far you succeed. they have plenty of money, but are practically poor in connections. heck, even haas is better established than them.

they won't be, not after they're done after their first season. they will show the world, what stark racing is truly made of. and y/n will prove, that a woman can win.

"-bought data packs from previous seasons, dating back a whole decade, from mercedes and aston martin. cost a pretty penny, but data is everything. not to mention, after the big leak that happend in the middle of the season, we managed to grab enough data on all teams to calculate 3523 outcomes to this season. points, standings, anything." kevin wheezes at the number, which is followed by several data sheets. he gapes at the calculations, which predict another world championship for max 2064 times. all from the data they managed to collect.

"insane, right?", y/n whispers to kevin, who turns his head to her. his wide eyes make her snicker.

"welcome to stark racing, mate. just you wait until JARVIS and FRIDAY start feeding in new numbers and information." a muttered 'holy shit' is the only answer she gets and y/n has to snicker again. toto wolff once said something about formula one being war planning... well, he should know that stark industries and it's most brilliant minds know everything about war. be it on the market, by income or an actual alien invasion.

"we want to achieve at least one win, be it in a proper race or sprint, three podiums per driver and at least two fastest laps. and it will be possible", her father continues, pointing at a hologram of their car. it spins lazily in a circle, showing off it's aeorodynamic curves.

"this car is faster than the rb19, goes on par with the rb20. we don't know the upgrades from red bull, but another year and we can pretty much predict their stats for 2026. newey is predictable, all his upgrades point towards the perfection of the car, he focuses on what to make better and not invent something completely new. and if he does, he takes ages to prove it's better than what they had before. newey is brilliant, but he's no stark." there it is again, the facts of their rivals, taken apart and put back together to summerize their data in a few simple words.

"so, our motto for this season is testing, collecting data and improving for the next season. we're sandbagging, we're restricting ourselves. so if we ever do bad... we all know we could do much better. the engineering team will send first comparisons between the SR-1 and SR-2 out next week, y/n has already tested both cars in the sim, so we will have some data to read off."

"so, with that, we're pretty much done. thank you everyone for listening, i know for some it's very early right now, so if you have to read over the spark notes- JARVIS has put a summary of the most important information together, you'll receive the mail right after this converence. thank you again and welcome to stark racing, everyone!" claps fill the room and y/n takes off her glasses. it's exhausting to play mindgames like this, to calculate the desired outcome, but it will all come together.

hopefully, with her as a world champion, with the bold stark name on her back.

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles, @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora, @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

[pedrilcvr]

About you — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’d been two months since Gavi asked out Lucia, two months since you’d talked to him. Two long, dreadful months. But the no contact hadn’t lasted any longer, because when the clock hit 11:40, Gavi was standing outside your door in the pouring rain, begging to talk.

Disclaimer/s: this is a part two to Casual ! Angst to a hopeful ending.

A/N: this is sooo long overdue apologies..

Your house was deadly silent as you paced around, the only sound emitting throughout it was the thunder outside. Your deadline for a transfer request was in an hour, and you couldn’t make up your mind. You needed to escape, to get far away from this city. From him. But a small part of you just couldn’t make up your mind.

On one hand, the transfer to Paris gave you tons of new opportunities, but that also meant leaving all your family to live in a country you didn’t know. On the other.. that meant you could start over. Live a life free of Pablo, free of torment, and most of all, it gave you time to yourself.

As if could ever truly be free from him. As if you could ever forget him.

Twenty minutes. You had twenty minutes to accept. Hesitantly walking toward the computer, the screen shining brightly, showing the two emails you’d typed out. One accepting, the other declining.

You lick your lips, reaching toward the send button, when a knock sounds at your door. Jumping slightly, you turn around, facing the wooden door in surprise.

Without thinking, your feet move for you, dragging you toward it. Your hands too move for you, unlocking and opening the door.

In front of you is someone who’d been on your mind nonstop for years, more-so in the last few months. He was drenched from head to toe, his hoodie clinging to him as the light grey had long since turned dark. He looked like a wet puppy. How long had he been standing there?

He says your name, urgent and afraid. “Please don’t go.”

Please don’t go.

Confusion flashes across your face, how did he even find out? “What?” You choke out, heart pounding in your chest. “How—get inside. You’re going to get pneumonia.” You grumble, swinging the door wide open and stepping aside.

Pablo does as told, taking hesitant steps into the warmth of your entry way. The door had only just clicked shut when he begins to speak again, “There is so much I want to say to you, but first, I need to say i’m sorry.” He’s breathing heavily, as if he’d just run a marathon.

Mouth opening to speak, to insist he shut up, you’re the one being shut down. “No! Let me get it out! Lucia and I—we broke up. Well, she broke up with me. Said, ‘I couldn’t love her when I still clearly loved you.’ And I realized then how badly I fucked things over. Because,” he sucks in a deep breath, whispering your name like it was the most delicate thing in the world, “fuck, I love you. I love you, and i’m sorry I couldn’t admit that till I already fucked things up.”

Your mouth opens and closes for what must’ve been a hundred times, stunned by his sudden confession. “Pablo—“

“Please, don’t go to Paris. I can’t let you get away again. I need you here. I need you to stay.” His eyebrows scrunch together as he looks at you, “I need you.” He says it slowly, making sure you latched on to every syllable.

With your chest rising and falling in uneven intervals, your eyes flicker across his face. He’s desperate, like losing you would physically end him. A look only comparable to when he’d torn his ACL.

“Oh, fuck.” You groan, “oh fuck you. Why are you doing this to me? After all this time—why when i’m just about to move on. Why couldn’t you do this before I figured my shit out.”

“Because I was—I am stupid. I’m an idiot, but i’m here now. I’m here, in front of you, begging you to stay.” He pleads with his eyes, with his hands, that were twitching at his sides, trying not to hold you, with his voice.. “I’ll get on my knees, i’ll do anything. Just please, please stay.”

Closing your eyes for a moment, you try to think logically. You try to think about how much you wanted this for so long, but also how badly he’d hurt you.. Do you trust your head or your heart?

But at the end of the day, the heart always won.

“Okay.” You finally say, nodding your head slowly. “I’ll stay.” You glance at the clock on the wall a few feet away, it was 12:01. “Not like I had a choice, the deadline just passed.”

Pablo lets out a sigh of relief, one that had your eyes narrowing. “Don’t sound too upset about it.” You quip, though your voice lacked amusement.

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “So—“

“You make my life so difficult.” Grumbling, you motion for him to follow you, “you need to take a warm shower, i’ll find you something to change into. I do not want to get a cold because of you.”

With a little pep in his step, Pablo trails behind you. “Okay, so what does this mean? Am I forgiven or..”

“Well, no! But you’re getting there.” You reply simply, knowing deep down he’d been forgiven the moment he uttered those five words. ‘I love you, i’m sorry.’

I just tagged everyone who asked for a part two, apologies ^_^

DTS , @halfwayhearted @pabl0andm3 @gadriezmannsgirl @spidybaby @alexis1taylorr @htpssgavi

[daydr3amy]

Lyfting tips as someone who went from a godawful lyfter to someone who is careful, cautious & obviously never gets caught

DISCLAIMER!! I do not actually sh0pl1ft- this is a role play account. I pretend to sh0pl1ft online because I would never do so in real life!! NOTHING I SAY REGARDING TIPS/SH0PL1FTING ARE TRUE AND ARE ALL MADE UP

Now obviously this conversation circulates

lyfting Tumblr a shit tonne but I want to

share my own experiences as to help baby

lifters & maybe give new insight to

experienced lyfters

I want to begin by sharing a story that keeps me up at night because it’s THAT embarrassing. I had a thought a year or so ago back that I wanted to begin lyfting all because I saw a girl on twitter who was a lyfting god (I now know that she was actually awful at lifting I’ll expand on this more later). I had went to a coffee shop and a gas station (on one side was the coffee shop and the other was the gas station they’re in the same building and there’s no doorway in between the two) after me and my brother had finished our coffee he decided he wanted to get something at the gas station. Whilst he was checking out with the only cashier on duty I was eyeing the protein bars thinking “now is my chance!! I HAVE to do this.. it’s now or never” by the time I had it set in my mind I was going to Lyft this protein bar- my brother was already done checking out and was waiting for me at the door. The cashier was not distracted by any other customers as it was only me and my brother in the store at the time. I knelt down by the protein bars and my brother asked “what are you doing?” And I replied in an overly loud voice “just looking at protein bars!!” I then decided on one and tried to tuck it in my sleeve with one hand. That didn’t work and it didn’t quite fit in my sleeve because I was so nervous- feeling rushed- and overall super shaky. Mind you my brother is standing about 5 feet away at the door looking at me crouching spending WAY too much time ‘looking at the protein bars’. Finally I managed to get the fucking protein bar up my sleeve and I loudly said “okay I’m ready to go!!”. After my brother and I had left the store he said “why did you steal that?” And then to my horror he says “you know the cashier was walking over to you and was practically almost looking right down at you. I cringed so hard at the thought of that actually playing out.

Now a lot of you may be thinking “oh she’s fucking dumb” and well… yes. But just as a little challenge I want you all to read through that story again and identify every red flag, everything I did wrong, & everything I failed to do that could’ve caused me to get caught in the act (there are 9!)

Ready?

1) I went into a store where two sets of employees from two separate corporations could see me borrowing

2) I got coffee from the shop- meaning they have my card details. If they were interested in prosecuting- they now have all my information

3) it was NOT a planned lift. The only ‘planning’ was done once i was in the store. This means I did not have a backup plan- I did not know how employees treat potential borrowing- and I did not wear an appropriate shirt to conceal

4) I did not scope out the store for cameras at all. In fact once I went to that store again I realized there was a big dome camera that was RIGHT above me 😭 the cashier more than likely had the camera footage displayed on her computer

5) I brought someone who was both A) unknowing (well kind of.. I was so fucking obvious even he knew what was going on) and B) someone who is completely inexperienced in lyfting. As soon as he had asked what I was doing I should have left it alone and exited the store with him

6) my responses to my brother. Any regular shopper would not need to shout/talk loudly explaining themselves “Oh!! I’m just looking at [insert weirdly specific item] definitely not doing anything awful or criminal like lyfting!!” Rather they would take an extremely casual approach speaking at a normal level “I’m just looking to see if they have what I wanted up here but I don’t think they do” [cue exit]. Being hyperspecific and sounding nervous will get you caught. No normal person talks like that- I recommend observing normal shoppers if you go out planning to lyft and attempting to copy their casual behaviours.

7) the amount of time I spent looking??? Like nobody is going to be looking at fucking protein bars like they are trying to find the Willy Wonka golden ticket 😭 if you are lyfting you have to be quick and precise - at any second you could be caught

8) I was completely unaware of my surroundings. I had no idea where the cashier was until I actually left the store. I’m not saying look around you frantically at all times Tryint to make sure you’re alone- that’ll get you sussed especially if people are watching cams. Take notice of where everyone is- especially employees and conceal quickly

9) nervous demeanour. I was so shaky and anxiety ridden it looked like I was about to go skydiving. Typically customers who come to shop at stores don’t get a panic attack from looking at store products- I’m actually laughing to myself at how ridiculous I must have looked LOL. Appear calm and collected and nobody will suspect anything.

Did you catch every red flag? If not- and I mean this in such a kind way- reevaluate your lyfting techniques. Lyfting is a crime and no matter how old you are if the court decides to trial you as an adult you’re fucked.

Briefly I want to circle back to the beginning of my twitter friend who both encouraged me to lift- & lifted MASSIVE hauls. Here’s a tip for everyone here that may be semi unpopular- there is nothing more stupid than a sh0pl1fter who Lyfts more than 999 dollars in one shopping trip. I don’t care about your states felony limit at all. Let me bring a new train of thought to everyone’s minds sh0pl1fting is 50% luck 50% skill you could be the most talented lyfter in the world but guess what? There’s definitely someone who’s better at their job than you are at lyfting at all times. If you find a blind spot- what if there’s a hidden camera? If you body conceal- what if police get involved and you get extra charges just for that? What if an employee catches you? What if there’s plainclothes LP? What if there’s LP in general? What if AI software technology recognizes your face as a lyfter from shared company data- leading you to immediately be sussed? What if there was a hidden tag in something you just lyfted? What if there are cops outside the store and an employee decides to alert them? What if employees/ LP are watching you through a blind spot in the store? What if you’re in the process of having a case built against you? I could keep going, however the sad truth is, no matter how good you are at lyfting- if you continually get away successfully- luck played a huge role in that. That is why it’s important to reduce the amount of times where something could go badly meaning reduce the amount of things you decide to lyft in a store. Is a criminal record really worth that viral Tumblr/twitter post? Probably not. I HUGELY recommend visiting multiple stores as opposed to lyfting all in one store

Okay enough yapping from me hehe let’s get into some more general tips :)

- do not go in groups of teens you will immediately be sussed esp if ur around 14-16 years old

- do not wear backpacks like at all! i see many encouraging backpacks at b&n and 1ndig0 and as someone who worked in both of those places- you will be watched. even if you dont realize it.

- totes are a nono bring a bigger purse if you must

- never assume cameras aren’t monitored. Stores are constantly hiring/ changing policies etc to prevent shrink. Use your eyes to scout for cameras do not look up and avoid being in sight of the cameras as best as possible

- coffee= trustworthy?? idk what this phenomenon is- but if you are carrying coffee from starbs or something (dont shop at starbs free Palestine) especially if the cup is see through you will lit not be sussed (as long as ur acting normally)

- if it’s in a box- either open the box and dump the product in your purse / body conceal or don’t lyft it. You’d be surprised how many stores are deciding to tag insides of boxes

- if you beep at the towers do NOT turn around or wait for the opportunity to be caught keep walking and walk right out of the establishment especially if you’re at the mall!!! Leave immediately

- malls are a lot scarier than people think- trust me AI recognition softwares are horrifying if you lyft at malls there’s a 99% chance you’ve already been caught by them lyft with extreme caution and don’t do big Lyfts

- stay away from Sephora they have some of the most aggressive LP I have ever seen in my entire life and will almost always prosecute

- if you plan on walking out with a tag on the item without a care in the world if you’ll beep or not Lp has these fuckass new hard tags that beep themselves. If you trigger the alarm towers the tag will start ‘screaming’ and will not stop no matter what you do- I advise against walkouts like that

- if you notice employees coming up to you way too often and won’t shut up about promos in store or wtv they are onto you do not risk it dump ur shit n leave

- dress to impress. You guys have no idea how good a pair of lulu leggings or the lulu define jacket can do for you- seriously make that investment

- go alone. Nobody knows how to do it better than yourself and if that’s not the case you shouldn’t be lyfting at all if you’re in a group you’ll be sussed so much easier unless you both look extremely well groomed and dressed

- on every tag that displays the brand for example the cardboard tags that lulu leggings have on them displaying the brand- rip it in half. Otherwise it’ll set off the alarm. Well rounded lyfters always find this out the hard way lol It’s a rite of passage

- majority of the time you literally don’t need magnets. Not only is this a sure way to catch a felony I genuinely think it’s useless. There’s always at least one pair of clothes that are not tagged in a well stocked store Idc if that’s not the exact shirt you want don’t get greedy

- branching off of that- try to only lyft in well stocked stores.

Otherwise employees will quickly realize when something has gone missing

-lyft the clothes hangers I’ll never understand why people will Lyft a shirt and not take the hanger? Unless it’s hard tagged it won’t beep slip it in your purse and save money on hangers lol & employees won’t notice empty hangers

- if you go to a changing room and they count your items you have 2 options- do not Lyft any of them orrrr assess the clothes in the changing room pick out only 1-2 you want to Lyft and ensure there are no magnets and rip the tags in half. Slip the hangers in your purse and as you are exiting say “I’m going to be getting these two I left the other 3 hung up in the changing room” the employee will literally not care. Then you find a blind spot and conceal the items. This is tricky and can only be done if employees are distracted and the store is big enough so that the changing room employee cannot see the cash register.

- the more you engage with employees the longer they have to remember what you look like. Be polite and short do not ask for assistance if they offer you a bag don’t freak out. I work retail and we only hand out bags to build customer basket sizes

- if you are not quick with concealing an item don’t even try and just leave ☠️ you should know this by now from my story earlier

- lp collects data on most high shrink items to dictate if those items should be secretly tagged or not- again I work retail and we began hiding tags inside products where nobody except us would have any idea that they’re there. If you like a specific skincare brand don’t lyft a shit tonne in one go from w4lm4rt everytime you go. Instead lift a minimal amount and then go to a non affiliated shop that sells the same product

- don’t build routine of lyfting

At the same store every Monday (idk lmfao, Monday is just an example) they’ll begin to remember you and it won’t be fun when you go in to lyft and

There’s cops waiting with a free UberX cop edition to your nearest prison

- prioritize lyfting essentials as opposed to ‘desirables’ this should be pretty self explanatory and if ur caught in the act (by cops!! only do not fucking talk to LP do not go with them where they tell you to. Run out Get an Uber if you have to and do not return to that store) you can just say “I’m broke and I’m trying to support myself” yada yada yada

Okay that’s all for nowww I’m sleepy but I’ll be making similar threads soon :3

Btw if you guys liked the red flag thingy please lmk bc it was genuinely sm fun to write and I have so many more horrible stories that I can share.. like a scavenger hunt except it’s my own dumbassery

[everand1r]

To the salon!

(Some) Twisted wonderland boys x Barbie (gn) reader.

Reader isn't based off of any specific barbie so I kept it vague. (Gn) No features are mentioned. Some are Platonic and some Romantic but you can view it either way really. These are mostly imagines? Hcs? Crack fic? idk but lemme know if I missed anything. These were pretty fun to do I might do more

Characters: Riddle, Deuce, Epel, Azul, Sebek

Transporting to a new world is something you are used to, you've been on many adventures and have gained many skills and degrees along the way that starting anew isn't a new experience. Although living in a rundown dorm isn't ideal, It just needs a little shaping! You've built stuff before you've got this. Oh but you'll need a new wardrobe too! No way can you wear one outfit all the time! I guess there's no time like the present to put them skills to use!

Riddle

• He thinks your style is cute, and admires how you always look stunning and pristine everyday without fail.

• Although you look a little TOO pristine at times, he gets confused on how you can run a mile in gym and not break a sweat, meanwhile this boy is probably gasping for air. When you explain you were an Olympic track star back in your world he has to try not to side you

• He kinda thinks your lying about your careers and all you've accomplished

• He greatly underestimates your intelligence until you barge into heartslabyul one day in your bright pink suit and a big smile on your face

  "Ace! Deuce!" You yell into the living area, the pair looking up at you from where they were studying. "Prefect, need I remind you of yelling inside?" the red head sighs. "Ah sorry sorry! I'm just so excited I had to come share!" "Is it about your trial today?" Deuce asked. "Trial....?" Riddle mumbles, slightly confused. He had no idea what you lot were talking about, but knowing you it was probably some crazy- "Yes I won my first court case today!" ......What? Court case?

"My Client was wrongfully accused of stealing and I helped them find justice! I'm so glad my skills as a lawyer can help others in this world." You boldy exclaim, chest puffing up. "Tell us all about it." Ace said turning to you fully.

Riddle sat back, tuning you all out. This boy was at a loss for words. You, a Lawyer??? How is that even possible? You're a Freshman... but Riddle recalls the time you set an Olympic World record for figure skating, and the time you hacked into a Government network using nothing but the school library computers. Maybe you being a Lawyer isn't so unrealistic after all.

Deuce

• Deuce always thought you were gorgeous and admirable, not that he would tell you that! He's too embarrassed

• It's kind of obvious though, with the way he never takes his eyes off you as you talk to him, he's got this lovesick gaze on him it makes ace roll his eyes

• Being friends with you from the beginning of the school year, he's used to you and all your skills, you still manage to surprise him from time to time though. Like creating a new life form from the potions in potionology should not be possible and yet here you are...

• Although that's what he admires about you, how you've accomplished so much at a young age. As an aspiring honor student he looks up to you. Admiration that's all it was, nothing more haha...

  When deuce got your message to come over to Ramshackle, he certainly wasn't expecting to see you arguing with a rooster and a big chicken coop in the back of the dorm. When did that even get there? "George please! just get back in the coop, everyone else listened to me!" George clucked at you, clearly not listening. "Ugh we're gonna be here forverer- Oh! Deuce you came!" You grin, diverting your eyes from the big chicken to the boy standing outside the fence. "Well don't just stand there come on in," Snapping out of his daze he goes through the fence and meets up with you. "Is this what you wanted to show me?" He asks. "Yup! I was a chicken farmer back in my world and i've just missed growing my own foods so I decided to start one here,"

You strech your arms out, signaling to the land around Ramshackle. You clasp your hands together with a soft grin on your face "I know how much you like eggs so I thought once my chickens lay some, we could make some egg dishes with it!"

   Admiration??? No no no, this boy was in Love!

Epel

• Before Epel offically met you he had seen you around, kind of hard not to with you being the most stylish person in NRC, you kinda stick out

• Although he only really got a good look at your style once he stayed at Ramshackle for the VDC.

You would come down every morning with a new oufit, hair and makeup done to a tee, he wonders if your closet is just limitless and how you have so many clothes and accessories.

• You blackmailed Crowley

• Ngl he probably thought you were one of those -prim and proper, freaks out at getting dirty- kind of person.... at first

• On the weekends when you don't have to stick around with practice, you would leave in the morning and come back later on and talk about your day at dinner, and you would always say the most insane shit Epel has ever heard in his life

"What do ya mean you discovered a new life species?" Epel glares at you from your vanity mirror. You shrug, continuing your nightly routine. Epel was sat on your bed, listening to you recount what you did today.  "Oh you should've seen it! It was a new bird species with the most gorgeous feather pattern, It took a couple of hours to find them out in the Savanna but it was so worth it." In the Savanna? You didn't look like you went to the Savanna. With your colorful outfit and perfectly manicured nails, and those glossy lips... Ugh! Epel shook his head. Just what is he thinking? But as he looks up at you, fully turned around, he can't help but notice just how stunning you really are.

Azul

• He doesn't really like you so he thinks

• But he's kinda intimidated by you, like most others in the school he underestimates you until he tried to take Ramshackle from you

• He was NOT prepared for you to list off all the shady and bordering on illegal business practices he was doing. How did you figure him out so quickly?? Did you also run a business perhaps?? the answer is yes, you do.

• You don't like his methods and try to talk to all his potential clients as you are fim beilever that if you put your mind to it, you can be anything! No need to sign away your powers or voice. Azul, clearly, does not like this and so there's just this mutual little rivalry between the two of you, although you do respect each other to some degree

Azul could feel his eye twitch, he has been going back and forth with you on this matter he's starting to falter. You two currently sat in the VIP room of the Mostro lounge. He's been trying to get you to sign this damn contract so he can take up your dorm. You, on the other hand are stubborn and refuse to give up the dorm you spent so much time renovating! He's beginning to wonder if it's even worth it at this point, maybe he can extend his business elsewhere... No! He's gotten this far he's not about to back down, but as he glances at you with your arms crossed and cute pout on your face, grim sitting next to you mimicking your stance... Azul feels as if he's gonna be here all night.

Sebek

• He didn't really think much of you for a while

• Sebek had more important things to worry about which is why he didn't pay attention to you until you pop out from behind Coach Vargas at Vargas camp, donning a military uniform and little yellow visor glasses, exclaiming how your gonna be the one in charge to whip up all those boys into shape.

• Sebek always thought he was prepared for any physical activity, after all he is a bodyguard in training.

• So imagine his surprise when your god forsaken training regimen has him fighting for air! HIM! The bodyguard to a prince! He never thought he would hate the sound of a whistle but by the seven can you stop blowing that damn thing?!?!

• Oh he needs a break...

  Sebek sat near the river, reflecting on the events of today when the sound of footsteps from behind bring him out of his thoughts. "There you are Sebek!" you exclaim, stopping right next to him. "I've been looking for you, gosh you are hard to find," He raises an eyebrow, "Looking for me?" He repeats. "Mhm! I wanted to ask you about today, Many of the other students struggled to keep up, but you were way ahead of the rest. I was curious about what you do that keeps you so fit." The half fae smirks, his already massive ego growing even more at your little observation. No way was he gonna let you know that even he had a bit of trouble with your hellish training.

"Well if you must know, I am a royal bodyguard and I must be physically fit if I am to protect my Liege." Your mouth gapes a little, "A royal bodyguard?? Wow no wonder you were able to keep up! The workouts I planned today were easier verions of the ones I gave back in my world, I wonder if I should make them even easier." You sigh, "Being a military commander isn't easy work." You nodded to yourself, currently lost in your own little world as you think of different workouts to give.

Huh???   Military commander?!

[joocomics]

LOSER(S): part two

read part one here

pairing: youtuber!theo x fem!reader

genre: smut — mdni! wc: 4.4k

summary: the charming guy running the youtube channel you enjoy watching mostly because of him and not the games he’s playing, moves in the apartment across from yours, and turns out to be the biggest asshole you’ve encountered in years

contains: neighbours au, enemies to lovers trope, dom!reader, brat tamer!reader, banter, unprotected sex, dirty talk, masturbation, overstimulation (m!rec), oral sex (m/f), light humiliation kink (m!rec), face slapping (m!rec), name calling

Taeyang lost count of how many times he had to sit down to play the same game from the beginning in the last three hours.

He adjusts the camera on its usual angle, hits record, only to toss his headset across the desk ten minutes later, and just stare stupidly at the computer screen.

It’s been a week since you slept together and he hasn’t been able to get you out of his head. Not only does the fact you’re constantly on his mind torturing him, but also the images that come along with the thoughts of you.

Your hand wrapped around his neck. Your breath sticking to his mouth as you call him names, bad names, mean words that would infuriate him in every other situation, but not this one.

And the more days fly by, the more those images seem not enough for him anymore. He begins to expand on them with moments where you slap his face while you ride him. Or his cock - it probably hurts, but that’s the new thing that he’s been curious about what it would feel like from you.

He wants you to punish him for all the sleepless nights you had because of his games; for all those arguments you’ve had in the middle of the hallway; for all the times he slammed his door in your face.

Taeyang opens the little drawer of his desk and pulls out the panties you let him keep from that day. It won’t feel as exciting as the first time he used them, because they’re straight out from the laundry and they don’t hold your scent anymore, but it’s better than just his bare hand.

He feels stupid; really stupid. But the embarrassment fades down the moment he covers his semi hard on with the delicate lace you wore the afternoon he fucked you.

He’s never watched any videos where the man is submissive, or gets humiliated and commanded. He’s never had any interest in experiencing anything like that, until now. Until you.

His moans slip from his lips more and more desperate in the silence of his room. His eyes are squeezed shut while his mind visualises your naked body once again; your hands and mouth are everywhere on him all at once as you use him for your own personal pleasure.

“Fuck… p-please, please, please—“ Taeyang whispers in a rush over and over again, as if you are here forcing him to ask for permission to cum.

He breaks down in his chair as the rush from this new unfamiliar fantasy brings him to his peak. The pair of panties, now messy from his orgasm, are wrapped around his cock and he holds them there for a moment till he calms down.

He has to try to film next week’s video again, but all he can think about is what the fuck did you do to him.

It was just a hook up.

There’s nothing wrong in having some fun once in a while. What does it matter if it was with the youtuber Choi Taeyang who also happens to live next door? You had a nice time together, and it won’t happen again, because you can’t stand each other - even after having an amazing mind blowing sex. Especially after that…

Nothing has changed. In fact, everything remains the same, except that he for whatever reason decided to do some of the talking online.

“You’re talking shit about me in your new video!”

Taeyang remains silent for a few seconds, because at first he doesn’t remember doing such thing.

“Oh, I think you mean the video before the one I uploaded today… The one from today is the new one.”

“I don’t care.” You throw hands in the air. “Will you please explain where that’s coming from?”

Taeyang folds arms in front of his chest while skimming your body up and down in the most obvious way. You’re wearing a pair of comfy shorts and a graphic tee; so different than all the buttoned up shirts and fancy trousers he always sees you wearing for work. Judging by the look, it doesn’t seem like you’re planning on going out with anyone although it’s Friday night.

Not that he cares.

“I filmed that before we slept together.”

“Because that makes it better?”

Realising that this conversation isn’t going to end soon, Taeyang opens the front door fully and steps aside to let you in.

You try to avoid looking around too much, but you can’t deny that you’re curious about what the rest of his apartment looks like. It has a nice fresh scent that instantly adds to the welcoming atmosphere of his simple interior.

“I thought you’re familiar with my filming schedule.” Taeyang follows close behind you.

You are, but he doesn’t need to know that.

He moves your hair carefully to the side and you feel his lips trace your skin from your shoulder all the way to your neck. It’s such a small portion of skin, but it makes your whole body crave him.

“I don’t keep up with your channel anymore.” Your voice starts softening at the subtle contact of his tongue. It brings back the memories from last week, and your heart flutters at the thought of repeating it all.

You force your legs to take a few steps forward, and you leave him hanging. Wanting to make him work for it a little bit longer, you begin to explore the living room in the mean time.

“I wouldn’t have known about it if a friend of mine didn’t send me a clip of you ranting about the annoying neighbour that makes you want to jump from the window, because she made it her life mission to ruin your whole life.“ You glare at him for a moment before taking a seat on the middle of his couch. “It wasn’t hard for her to figure it out.”

Taeyang smirks, as his tall figure stands in front of you, blocking the view of the multiple posters at the wall.

“So you talk about me to your friend, I’m flattered.”

“Not nice things,” you cross one leg over the other, acting as if you’re oblivious to his gaze that’s focused on you, “so don’t be.”

The perky smile doesn’t leave his face when he squats down, locking eyes with yours. His hands swiftly separate your legs, and that simple act alone brings an insane amount of arousal into your body.

“You did made me want to jump from the window that day.” He comments, gliding his palms up and down your bare skin. “But I was also hoping you’d come back, and you did.”

His mouth now roams along your inner thigh through wet kisses, as he speaks, while his hand caresses the outer side of it.

“Do you know what’s the most annoying part of all of this?”

“Tell me,” you say, trying to keep your tone firm and relaxed despite the warm need that’s forming in the pit of your stomach.

You sense his right hand playing with the fabric of your shorts, sneaking under it to feel your panties. They make him impatient though, and after he grips on the waistband you quickly lift up just enough so he can pull them down.

“There isn’t a moment when I’m not turned on by you cussing at me. You’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad at me, doll.”

You feel the tension in the air getting thicker from his words that accompany his needy touch.

“You like being scolded, hm?” You rest your hand on top of his head, as you feel his tongue sneaking through his lips. The sudden wet contact provokes your legs to spread wider at the possibility to feel it closer to your heat.

Taeyang swipes his flat tongue along your cunt that’s hidden from your thin underwear. His palms press against your hips, as he buries his face further, humming as a response.

“Easy, Tae,” you chuckle.

The nickname surprises him, and he pulls back to find your eyes.

“I need you.” His voice softens as he speaks out the words.

You’ve never heard this tone from him before.

“I need you so bad, Y/N.”

“Do you promise not to talk shit about me ever again?”

You lift his chin even higher with your index finger while he stays on his knees for you.

“Promise.” He replies with a smirk which disappears so quickly from your thumb tugging on his lip that you almost miss it.

It’s surprising how easily he succumbs to your control. It almost feels like he’s playing with you, and you test him again with another question.

“Will you do as I say?”

Taeyang nods staring back with lust in his eyes.

“Words.”

“Yes, yes, beautiful…” He stops talking when you slide your fingers through his lips, and continues, after you gather some of his saliva. “I will.”

“I didn’t expect to see you so obedient, Tae.” You push your panties to the side and spread the moisture all over your clit, mixing it with the one that’s already been wetting your folds. “I like this version of you.”

“You got me this way, doll.” Taeyang follows the slow motions of your fingers, and his mouth waters at the sight. The memory of your sweet taste invades his senses. “Let me help you feel good.”

You guide your foot up and down his thigh, as you build your arousal in front of him.

“What can you do for me?” You ask, knowing that talking is the last thing he wants to do right now. You lead your leg to his crotch area where the contour of his erection calls for your attention. It starts twitching beneath the fabric of his sweats the second it feels the pressure of your foot.

“Anything you want, baby.. shit—“ His mouth stays open when you start stimulating him by rubbing his length. “Just tell me, please. Wanna taste you so fuckin’ bad.”

“Oh, baby, you’re leaking already,” you pout at the dark stain that appeared under your foot. Taeyang can only whine, as the place you keep rubbing in a rapid speed gets hotter from the pleasant friction. “You look like you really need to cum, pretty boy… too bad I prefer to cum first.”

Taeyang’s attention goes back and forth between your daring eyes, and your fingers gliding through your squelching entrance. He’s slowly becoming more and more submissive, and you can’t stop gushing over how hot he looks in this kind of desperate state.

“Wanna make you cum first, gorgeous…” Taeyang mutters, but his hips jerk up, needy to feel more of your touch. “Can I?”

“You can,” you reply, seeing his gaze lit up. “Go on, put that dirty mouth to good use for once.”

After moving your hand away, Taeyang leans in and attaches his tongue to your heat with the same force he did the first time. It makes you gasp, and hold the back of his head as the imensive pleasure flows through your body.

The difference is in the sounds that manage to escape from his mouth as his tongue devours your slickness - they’re not intense, grumpy groans, but vulnerable blissful ones, and you try to stay calm so you can hear more of them, but you can’t hold the emotions in for long.

“Oh, f-fuck, Tae—“ Your fingers tangle around the roots of his hair and tug from the way he digs even deeper into your cunt the moment you start to shake. Your arousal trickles down from your folds. “Oh, fuck, just like that…”

Provoked by your pretty moans, Taeyang pulls you down a bit, focusing the tip of his tongue on your clenching hole. He slurps eagerly from your leaking pleasure before licking a stripe all the way to your clit.

You don’t need to tell him to go faster. He can tell you’re close by your loud pants, and the way your face twitches, and your spine bends. Your toes curl in the air the moment he dives back in to suck on your sensitive bundle of nerves meanwhile his two long fingers slide inside you, rubbing your walls.

“S’ close—“ You choke on your whines, as your hand keeps him as close to your clit as possible.

The quick way his fingers work in and out of you in sync with his lapping tongue bring your orgasm just a second later, and Taeyang tries his best to keep your body steady on the couch with one hand as you squirm from the sensations.

His own hitched sounds get lost from your overwhelmed voice that echoes throughout the room in a high pitched tone. You stopped caring about who might hear you through the thin walls a long time ago.

You realise amused that Taeyang still gathers from your juices by open mouthed kisses even after you come back to your senses.

“That’s enough, you had your fun.” You take his jaw and squish his flushed cheeks, observing his swollen lips and sharp chin that’s messy from your arousal. As much as all that turns you on nothing can compare to the dazed look in his eyes - like he’s ready to take anything you give him.

“There isn’t a moment when I’m not turned on by you cussing at me.” His words from earlier echo into your mind. “You’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad at me…”

“You’re so pathetically horny, I don’t even have to ask if you’ve been using my underwear to get off.” You slightly raise your brow, then grunt at the shameless smile that creeps up on his lips. It earns a light slap on the cheek. “Such a loser.”

At this point Taeyang is one hundred percent sure he’s leaking through his boxers. He’s so turned on that he’s grateful for every small friction he gets from the cotton fabric that’s repressing his cock.

“Filled them with my cum three times.” He adds through his puffy lips that still glisten with your essence.

You try to cover up your half-smile caused by his cheeky attitude through a huff. You slap him again, but harder, and he presses his tongue against the inner side of his cheek.

“You liked it, didn’t you, perv?”

“I fuckin’ loved it.” He responds, successfully maintaining eye contact. You can feel the heat coming from his stare and it makes you feel dizzy, like you just took five shots at once.

The smacking sound fills the room again, and Taeyang’s head tilts slightly to one side. His bottom lip is tucked between his teeth; his skin runs hot.

“Three slaps for the three times you used my panties like a desperate whore.”

You lean back comfortably on the back of the couch, trying to ignore the way your heart races from what just happened, but also at the image of him masturbating with your lingerie.

You tell him to strip, and he quickly gets rid of his clothes, leaving them crumpled up on the floor. After his slim figure hovers over you again, his big cock enters your vision. You lean forward and run your fingertip along its length, feeling its warm skin and every vein.

The instant twitching when you reach his tip that’s oozing deliciously with transparent essence, makes you bite your lip playfully. You give it a light feathery touch, and suddenly the only thing on your mind is to make Taeyang break down from pleasure. To milk him dry.

“Sit down.” You command, switching places with him. “No touching from now on, got it?”

“Got it.” Taeyang responds, and you notice his one hand going towards his balls, as you kneel between his legs.

You grab his wrists roughly, forcing his eyes to shoot back at you.

“You’re not allowed to touch me or yourself.”

You release his arms, hearing a sigh of disappointment. For a moment he doesn’t know where to put his hands and the awkward way he finally drops them on top of his thighs makes you laugh.

“Not used to being a submissive boy, huh?” You tap his leaky tip at the centre, and Taeyang’s tummy clenches from the sensitivity.

The ringing sound of you mocking him makes his heart flutter which doesn’t help the burning in his core cool down.

He stays silent, but judging from his dark gaze that’s solely focused on your hand hovering over his desperate erection, makes you feel like you’re both thinking about the same thing, so you do it - you give his cock a light smack.

“Fuckk—“ He sucks in a sharp breath. He bites on his lower lip with force, throwing his head back while the shocking thrill fades down. “No… I’m not.” He admits noticing you getting closer to his shaft.

He wants to snap at you to take it, but another part of him wants to indulge in this new game that you introduced to him; a game where he waits and receives whatever you decide to give him.

“You’ll learn. You need some taming, Choi Taeyang.” You give him one last glance, then release a thick string of spit on his cock before taking it in your hand.

You forgot how heavy he feels and your thighs already start rubbing against one another. You stroke it up and down slowly, appreciating the way it looks under the control of your fist.

“Such a big nice cock for someone who doesn’t know how to behave properly, tsk…” The speed of your hand quickens, and Taeyang’s chest starts to rise rapidly, his fingers form two strong fists. “What a waste,” you spit out bluntly, smearing the precum even faster.

You have to admit, you enjoy this dominant role more than you expected.

“Ahh, s-shit…” Taeyang’s built up desperation becomes even more apparent now as his tone gets mellow from the stimulation. The rush inside his tummy grows bigger with every next twist, and every new remark you decide to throw at him.

In the middle of his moans he turns quiet; too baffled from the sudden wrapping of your lips around him to say or do anything. His jaw drops as he finally gets to experience what your tongue feels like glued to his dick.

“Y/N—“ he sighs, running fingers through his hair. His tongue swipes his lips at the arousing sight of your head bobbing up and down his length; your small fist helping out by twirling around what you can’t fit inside your mouth.

Not that you can’t fit the rest of him. You can, with a little bit of effort and inevitable choking. You just don’t want to yet. He’s fully aware of that.

Taeyang’s instant reflex is to hold your head, but he stops himself on time, and his palms return to rest on both sides of his body, meanwhile, you keep humming around his throbbing erection. The amount of saliva dripping from your lips coated all of him nicely, making your hand drag along even more smoothly as you aim for his climax.

The warm void of your mouth feels so unbelievably good he starts to feel woozy, losing his entire trail of thoughts.

You gasp for air once you finally peel off. A string of drool connects you to his angry red tip before you break it off by furiously pumping his cock.

“Come on,” you encourage him, as you don’t stop jerking him off close to your charming face, “cum like the desperate boy you are, Tae…”

And like that, hypnotised by your voice and the way you use that nickname, Taeyang lets it all out. The thick ropes of cum shoot all over his stomach while his heavy eyes stay shut, and his balls clench overwhelmingly.

You bite on your lip, patiently baring your own heat between your legs as you watch him cum all over himself. Your eyes trace all the way up to the veins on his neck, and his parted lips that drop heavy pants.

Taeyang tugs on his own hair finally turning his attention back to you. He seems high, and his heavy gaze follows lazily the way you stick out your tongue to taste him, after his poor cock hits his tummy, all flushed and smeared with sticky liquid.

“Mmm, you taste nice.” You mewl, passing your flat tongue over his stomach to collect the thick essence, taking it down your throat. “I could’ve let you cum in my mouth, but I don’t think you deserve that yet.” You leave a few wet kisses around his bellybutton before sucking lightly. Taeyang humms, and glances down only to see that you’ve licked all of his seed to the last drop.

“Hope I can earn that privilege.” Taeyang’s deep voice makes your heart swell with how raspy it suddenly sounds.

You bring your hands up his chest, teasing his left nipple with your manicured fingers.

“Give me one more and maybe you will earn it sooner than you think.”

When he sees his softening cock going in your hand again, a shocking thrill shoots through his core, and it makes him wince in his seat. His muscles tense all over again at what’s possibly coming.

“Shhh, it’s not that bad,” you burst laughing at his widening eyes. He noticed his own words coming out of your lips. “I know you still have more to give me…”

Every time you smile amused at his dick he gets butterflies in his tummy like a teenager falling in love; for a moment he didn’t even grasp what you’re asking of him.

“Fuck, wait—“

But it’s too late. You’re already getting back to twirling your fist, eager to feel it hardening in your palm.

Taeyang leans his arms over the back of the couch, giving you a nice view of his throat that keeps gulping after he tilts his head back.

You stay kneeling between his feet, gliding your fist in a merciless pace. You want to make him cum again, and you want to do it as soon as possible. The wet noise mixes with his hitched breathing, he’s not even making sounds anymore; the new rush that’s building up from his sensitivity doesn’t allow him to do anything else except try to control his heavy breaths.

“Oh my god,” Taeyang lifts one arm and takes his fist to his mouth. He can feel the familiar sensation inside him bubbling up, fast and intense. “Fuck, gonna cum again-“ His voice cracks just as his thighs start to tremble around you. “Please, take it in your mouth, p-please, Y/N, shit—“

Your fingers keep up the pressure around his thickness and a moment later they’re dripping with mess again.

“Oops, I forgot.” Your bottom lip puckers out in a fake pout, as you still hold his member trapped in your fist. It’s so pathetically red and swollen. You blow on it once, and Taeyang squirms before finally facing you. “You came too quickly, pretty boy. You left me no time to put it in my mouth.”

His raspy low voice mumbles something in the lines of you’re doing it too good, and you tell him that he’s just too weak.

You don’t give him much time to regain control over his breathing, and your lips stretch out to take him deep into your mouth.

The fact he’s lost in the warmth of your small mouth again has Taeyang’s mind turning blank. He’s sensitive in general, and when you begin to move all the way down to his abdomen after he just came for the second time, completely makes him crumble.

For the first time you hear him whimper; yearn.

It’s obvious he’s trying his best to maintain his calmness, but at this point it’s impossible. Everything becomes too much for him - your tongue twirling around his cock head, the sucking and lewd slurping as you keep up the insane rapid speed that has the living room spinning in front of him. The bumping against your throat. The gagging. The vibrations from your choking, because he’s too big for your mouth, but you keep pushing yourself on him anyway.

You breathe through your nose a few more seconds, as you keep his tortured tip inside your throat. A tear escapes the corner of your eye. When you empty your mouth, inhaling deeply, you notice that Taeyang’s cheeks have falling tears too.

Your tongue glides on the side of his hard slick length as you prepare to stuff your mouth again, but you want to enjoy the captivating sight of his face coloured by pinkish tones, and half lidded eyes gleaming with tears, a little longer.

Despite feeling on cloud nine, Taeyang gives you a lazy smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“What is it?” He looks down at your figure with anticipation.

You shrug shoulders, then tilt your head slightly.

“I’m just surprised to see you like this.”

You don’t realise how his features hypnotise you; how they get you to forget about the role you’re playing, until you feel his hand around your neck. The movement, not rough at all, lifts your chin while he leans down parting your lips with his own.

The open mouthed kiss steals your breath; it fulfills all the cravings you had since you got here, but it grows new ones too.

You stand up and Taeyang swiftly settles you on his lap. The feeling of him filling you up in that moment is a delightful relief you’ve never felt before. You uphold yourself with hands on the back of the sofa while his mouth finds support in the crook of your neck.

“Ah, Tae…” You mewl at the way he pleases you in all the ways you possibly need. “Fuck, I love it…”

Taeyang holds his breath for a second, as you start to quicken the bounces. His hands scrunch up your shirt around your waist while the way your slippery cunt swallows him so perfectly has him thinking of cumming as soon as possible. But he can endure it; despite the burning overstimulation that makes his heart race, and his whimpers stuck at the back of his throat.

He has to.

“Cum again, doll, I’ll wait…” He bites the spot under your ear while his husky voice, coming out so uneven and shaky, sends you shivers. “I promise.”

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[inmyminditsreal]

I Love It When You Ramble

Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: You talk a lot, and freak out a lot, And Spencer's always there for you when you do freak out, or talk his ear off, In this you find out how much he actually loves it, or rather- you.

WARNINGS!!!! sweetest shit ever

Thanks for 200 followers!!!! I was eating such a fire chicken sandwich while writing this yall.

It begins..

It would be an understatement to say you could talk a lot. Sometimes you just get these ideas and they run right off your tongue before you can think. you wish you could turn it off, but you can't. It's not like anybody really encouraged it anyway. Multiple instances of you being shut down and shrugged off. This doesn’t really stop you from talking, you're really not as bright and shiny as you used to be, but you'd like to think you're still shining. Plus, you occasionally freak out over stupid shit that isn’t stupid to you. Typical. Now, you work at the BAU. Days, to months, now a year. You can still remember the night before your first day, running your mouth talking to yourself about who you should be. Loud? Quiet? you? It’s shitty to be you sometimes. you decided you'd just be. This wasn’t an easy decision, but it’s worked out pretty good so far. 

The walk to work

You live about a ten minute walk from the office, you love this walk, and cherish it really. It's the time to get your thoughts together, you always try to convince yourself to wake up earlier to have “you time”. You bet it’s overrated. Trying to find any peace while working as a profiler isn’t so simple. Any “you time” is spent trying to get into the minds of sadistic psychopaths. The year you've worked at the office has absolutely fucked you up. Not that you're not fucked up already. you are. You found a new family at the bau, one that by not much comparison, is way better than yours. Though, you still talk too much, still get those same “Please shut up” looks. There are only two people at the office who swear they could listen to you for hours, Spencer, and Penelope. Even so, you think sometimes Penelope gets tired of you. 

Walking into the office you're greeted with the sweet smell of coffee, old paper, and a smell you can only find in an office that you can't quite describe. It’s welcoming, you can’t deny that. you spot Spencer studying his computer and walk up to him.

 “Hey spence.”

He lifts his head up and gives you his sickeningly sweet smile, “Hey come grab your chair and roll over here, I wanna show you something.” 

There's a simple sparkle in his eyes that excites the shit out of you. That look makes your stomach flutter. 

“Ooooooo! I’m excited. Is it that coffee mug I was showing you? Did you look at their website? I heard that it almost got shut down, which is crazy knowing how much detail and effort goes into their stuff. Still shocked that all of it could be handmade.” you ramble as you roll your chair next to him in a swift motion. 

“I’m sorry to say it is not, it’s even better.”

He’s right. He is so right. It’s a photoshopped picture of Hotch with an anime body pillow. On a t-shirt. You start laughing so hard, you can't stop. And as one of those people who explode onto the floor in a silent wheezy laughter, you do just that. It’s an ongoing battle between you two to find the funniest thing Hotch could do, there has been him riding a unicorn, salsa dancing, in a maid costume, etc. This got you so good. 

“Jesus, jesus. You win.” you say breathlessly as you stand back up. This obviously catches the attention of Derek and Emily and they walk over. They know about your stupid battle, and despite warning you that he’s going to find out, they of course participate. 

“Oh my god? Oh my god.” Emily says as she looks reluctantly at the screen. 

Derek just starts laughing. you're still giggling. Your phone buzzes suddenly, it’s a text from your mom.

“Oh god oh god oh no.” you mumble as you look at your phone. Your mom isn’t anyone you want to be hearing from. The simple text reads,

“How’s the bau?” You haven’t told anyone in your family you're a profiler, or where you work, or anything about your life.

Looks are exchanged between Emily and Derek. 

“Are you alright?” Asks Emily.

You start to freak out. 

“Yeah, Yeah yeah fuck okay yeah. I’m fine, it's alright. I just have to go really quick.” You start as you stand up and almost run out into the hall, pressing the elevator up. Staring at the buttons feeling like dogshit. Your brain is running its mouth, something you have gotten better at keeping in, is the outside talking. It’s still a part of you, but you hope it won't always be. It’s the only way people will listen, if you talk so much they can't look away, can’t ignore you. But at the same time you feel like they never do hear you. Tears welling in your eyes despite this being insanely stupid. The elevator doors open and you step in with a choked breath, someone slips in behind you. 

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks slowly while hitting the elevator button.

“No.” 

He had seen you get nervous but never really freak out. your fists clenched, Skin pale, teeth chattering. You had told him. Only him. A bit about your mom and family.

“What’s happened sweetheart? ” He says with his arm gently landing on your shoulder.

You feel insanely stupid. You walk out of the elevator into the parking lot.

“My mom texted.”

“Oh god, are you okay?”

“Not really, I'm sorry.” My voice starts to break, you bite your lip. “She found out where I work. What am I going to do? Is she going to tell people, make up rumors? Try to get me to come back? I keep my life secret for a REASON. I don’t know how she found out. Do you think someone here told her? I-”

His arms wrap around you and grip you intensely. He takes your arms and places them  around his waist. His hand lands on your head, stroking soft patterns into your hair. Gentle. Your hot cheek pressing  firmly against the cool vest that’s wrapped around his chest. You exhale into his arms. He cups your cheek and caresses it slowly.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. She can’t hurt you.”

Words that make you melt. You nuzzle into his neck. Just to stay for another minute. Breathing in the scent of fresh laundry, books, and coffee. The only person you'd ever feel so comfortable to hold, and to let hold you, is him. You let go, you know if you don't now you won't ever want to. He looks down at you, for a little too long, then takes your still shaking hand and begins to walk into the elevator. You follow him.  

That night, you cried a lot. Feeling so vulnerable that she knows where you are, god and probably who you're with. It’s always power with her. Can’t leave you alone but doesn’t love you enough to actually talk to you, to want you.  

Couple days later

Now, You're on a case, in Canada. Triple homicide of teen girls. Typical, yet always disgusting. you're currently in the car, being driven to the nearest motel. You're sitting in the middle of the back, next to Spencer and Emily. You pull out the seatbelt to make it budge and lay your head on it. Uncomfortable, sure, but when you’re exhausted nothing else but rest matters. You start to drift asleep, smelling the leather of the seatbelt, and feeling it rub and glide against your skin.  Hearing faint voices and the feeling of being carried out of the car feeling so warm. The subtle smell of coffee floating in the air.

You wake up. Soft hotel bed sheets cuddled into your arms, the familiar smell of well- Spencer, fills your nose. He’s next to you, looking so peaceful with the sunlight hitting him at the most cruel angle, shining on the curve of his nose, the curls of his brown husky hair. He looks so beautiful. All you want to do is lay in his arms and sink into his skin. It's truly tiring loving someone knowing what’s swimming beneath your eyes, in your mind. You know you'd love him and all of his horrors, you hope someone will love you and yours. His eyes flicker open, and land on yours.

“Mornin.” He mutters sleepily. It makes your heart flutter. 

“Good morning. How’d you sleep?” You ask while sitting up to stretch. He does the same. 

He looks at you and gives you a lazy smile, “Pretty good, I’m assuming you did too?”

“Yeah, yeah. But who moved me out of the car? That's the last thing I remember.”

“I did. I carried you from there onto the lobby couch, then to our room while we were getting checked in, since I was carrying you, they decided everybody should share, and we all agreed.”  

You both stare at each other for a little while until you mumble, “Thank you, Spencer.”

“For what?” He says as you both get up to get dressed and start the day.

 He just stares at you, with a look in his eyes, a feeling that you can’t make out. 

“For everything. For carrying me in, and always listening to the things i say, for being so sweet, and cute, and hugging me, calming me down,  for not ignoring me or wishing i would shut up, or atleast making it seem like you don’t want me to shut up, for spending time with me and making jokes with me, and making me fall in love with you-. Shit. Im sorry. Fuck. Just forget it.” You rub your hands over your face and rub your eyes, “sorry.”

“Okay I’m really sorry.” You mumble.

…

“I love you.”

“What?”

“I love you when you ramble, when you’re a stuttering mess, when you’re crying, when you’re scared, I love you when you get excited about things like coffee mugs, I love you so much when you’re laughing, when you smile and your whole face lights up. I love you when you get these ideas and they’re so smart I start to feel stupid. I love you when your teeth are chattering and you’re freaking out. I love you how you are- and I will love you forever.” He says so passionately that your knees feel weak. His hands cup your cheeks, silky smooth fingers and rough harsh fingertips. You kiss him, You kiss him like nothing else matters. Morning breath? Maybe, but the taste of loving Spencer Reid is stronger. He returns the favour and pushes you into him, his hands exploring your hips and waist, pulling you up into his arms. You nuzzle into his neck yet again and leave soft peppered pecks along his jawline and down his neck. He dances his fingertips up and down your palm and locks your fingers together.

“I love you, Spence.”

“God I love you too, Beautiful.”

Anyway bonus because im bored

Spencer's POV of carrying you out of the car!!

I see her laying against the seatbelt, a soft trail of drool tipping off the edge of the leather. I swear she’s the prettiest thing. We stop at the hotel, Hotch says, 

“Should we wake her up?”

“No. I’ll take her in.” I add while gently unbuckling the seatbelt. Stopping to stare at her for only a second, or 20. A pang hits my heart as I just remember how much she worries, hoping she’s at least at peace in her sleep. I wrap my arms under her, slowly lifting her from the seat. She leans into my chest and I swear it’s the cutest thing I've ever seen. I love her so much. We get inside and I lay her down on the lobby couch, sitting by her side, her head now in my lap. I brush the hair from her face as softly as I can. We get checked in and I pick her up again and carry her into the room, silent footsteps down the hall.

I place her on the bed, take off her shoes, and put the covers over her. Suddenly she's awake, and I tell her to go back to sleep, but she insists on changing into her pjs. Apparently sleeping without them is torture. She’s perfect. Now she’s knocked right out, clinging to the bedsheets, pulling them all on top of her. Doesn’t matter. Rather freeze then take them away from her anyway. I go over today's events, and the last couple days, months, and the day she first got here, looking so beautiful, being so lovely and kind.

When I first met her she talked my head off, but I didn't care. I wanted to hear what she had to say, and it wasn't at all stupid. There's a part of me that used to talk a lot. That part is slowly coming back with her. I want her in my arms, I drift asleep thinking of a life with her.

luv yall

[scary-grace]

the new postmodern age (chapter two) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Written for @threadbaresweater's follower milestone event, and the prompt 'a day at the beach'! Congratulations on the milestone, and thanks for giving me a chance to write this fic.

dividers by @enchanthings

Before the war, you were nothing but a common criminal, but in the world that's arisen from the ashes, you got a second chance. Five years after the final battle between the heroes and the League of Villains, you run a coffee shop in a quiet seaside town, and you're devoted to keeping your customers happy. Even customers like Shimura Tenko, who needs a second chance even more than you did -- and who's harboring a secret that could upend everything you've tried to build. Will you let the past drag both of you down? Or will you find a way, against all odds, to a new beginning? (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3

Chapter 2

One of the dubious perks of living in a coastal town is fairly mild weather in the spring, but every so often it kicks up with a vengeance. The windows in your apartment are rattling with the wind and rain, and you keep getting power outage alerts on your phone. Your power is still on, along with about half the town’s, and the café has backup generators if anything goes wrong. But tomorrow’s the one day a week that the café is closed, anyway, so you’re curled up on your couch under a blanket, trying to make yourself read a book instead of scrolling your phone. It’s going all right, but when the phone buzzes on the coffee table next to you, you pounce on it with shameful speed.

It's a text from Tenko – Shimura. It’s from Shimura, who you’ve gotten into the bad habit of calling Tenko in your head. my power just went out

that sucks. You wonder if you should offer to help, but what would you even do? did you lose any files?

autosave. but the deadline’s tomorrow and my WiFi went down too. That still begs the question of why Shimura’s texting you about it. town still has power. can I hang out in the café and finish the project?

Now you get it. Shimura’s in hot water and he needs you to bail him out. It’s the kind of thing you’d do for a friend. A lot of things you and Shimura do are the kind of things friends do.

Not that you’re friends. You never see each other outside the café; you ran into him at the grocery store a few months after he started coming in and he pretended he didn’t know you. But inside the café, when it’s quiet, the two of you talk. You learned what he does for work – beta-testing computer games and identifying spots that need a patch – and he learned that you have basically no life outside your job, which he can’t judge you for because he doesn’t have one, either. When the two of you traded phone numbers, it was a work-related thing. Since the babkas have gotten popular, he texts on days when he’s planning on coming in, so you know to set one aside.

Except that’s not all he texts you about. He texts you about the most random things, in massive bursts between days of radio silence, and when he comes into the café again, he keeps talking about whatever it was like you’d been talking about it the whole time. It’s like he has no idea how to carry on a text conversation. Or how to have a friend.

You don’t have a great idea of how to have a friend, either. Let alone a friend you have feelings for. If Shimura was just your friend, you’d have texted back by now. Shimura texts again. I get it if you don’t want to come back into town when the weather’s shit. i would have asked about your place but I didn’t want to make it weird

Not weird. You answer without thinking too hard about it. I don’t know how much longer I’ll have power. You should probably come over now.

yeah. address? Shimura gives a thumbs-up once you send it. thanks.

You give him a thumbs-up, too. You’re already worried you’ve made a mistake.

The power’s still on by the time Shimura knocks on your door, which is one of your worries dealt with. You’ve changed out of your pajamas, and you moved stuff off the kitchen table and hid it in the hall closet so he’ll have a space to work. You’re feeling almost normal by the time you go to let him in, and he slinks through the door, looking like a drowned rat and shivering like a kicked puppy. “It sucks out there,” he mumbles. “My heat went out, too.”

“Mine’s still on. And I’ve got blankets and stuff if you want them,” you say. Shimura is still wearing his mask, but his hoodie is soaking wet, and when he takes down the hood you see that his hair is wavier than you thought. Or maybe it’s just the water. “The WiFi password is on the fridge. Make yourself at home.”

Shimura takes off his shoes and pushes his hair out of his face to peer at your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not. It’s not a mess and there aren’t holes anywhere. It’s nice.” Shimura gives you a look you don’t know how to interpret. “Thanks for letting me come over. Uh –”

He runs out of whatever he was going to say, but you’ve got no idea what he was going to follow up with. The two of you stand there for a second. Shimura’s hoodie is so sopping wet that it’s making puddles on the floor. “Okay,” you say finally. “Give me your hoodie and I’ll put it in the dryer.”

“You have a dryer? I drag my shit to the laundromat.”

You used to, but then you found out about all the petty things civilians do to make people like you feel unwelcome. Shimura hasn’t noticed because Shimura’s undercover. You wait while he peels off the hoodie. You’ve never seen him without it, barely seen him with the hood down, and beneath it, his clothes are just as oversized. His arms are bare and pale – and scarred. You wrench your eyes away, take the hoodie to the dryer, and take the opportunity to compose yourself along the way. You have a friend over. Normal people have friends over. You’re helping a friend. It doesn’t get more normal than that.

When you come back, Shimura’s hard at work at the kitchen table, laptop open and notebook at his side. You don’t want to distract him. You have a feeling the two of you are racing the clock with the storm and the power lines, so you sit down on the couch with your blanket and pick up your book. No way are you going to be able to read. When you’re at work, you have a million things to do. Right now, there’s nothing for you to do but watch Shimura.

He's focused on whatever he’s doing, typing fast but lopsided. It takes you a second to figure out what the problem is, but once you do, you’re startled – two fingers on his left hand are basically paralyzed. Maybe that’s why he wears the gloves. His hair falls to his shoulders, and although it’s black, there’s a flatness to the color that tells you it’s not natural, and that he did it at home. Maybe you should offer to do it for him when his roots start to grow out. You’ve never seen the lower half of his face, but apparently you didn’t need to in order to give yourself a crush on him.

You like him. You’re being silly about it. And you’re staring. You stick your face back in your book.

But it can’t hold your attention for long when he’s here, and when you inevitably look back up, you find Shimura already watching you. “What?” you ask.

“Get over here. I need your help with something.”

“I don’t game.”

“It’s not about gameplay. It’s –” Shimura beckons to you impatiently, and you abandon your book and blanket to peer over his shoulder at the screen. “Something’s wrong with this stage. It looks like shit. I told the devs that, and they said I had to be more specific –”

“It’s the color saturation,” you say. Shimura looks up at you. “And the shadows are wrong. If the light source is supposed to be coming from above – like the sun – the shadows should be in different spots. Or there should be shadows, and there aren’t any. That’s why the character looks like – that.”

You glance away from the screen, at Shimura. “What kind of game is this?”

“It’s a dating sim. Shut up,” Shimura says. “I don’t get to pick what I test. What was that about the shadows?”

“They need to fix the lighting.”

Shimura looks irritated. “They’re gonna want specifics.”

“The stage looks flat because they haven’t added shading to match the light source,” you say. Shimura pulls up another document and types something into it. “Shading gives dimension. And the color saturation is too high. That’s why it looks like –”

“A fucking eyesore.” Shimura minimizes the document, then clicks a dialogue option to advance the game to the next screen. “Same problem here?”

You nod, but it’s not the only problem. “Is this supposed to be a schoolgirl sim? High school girls don’t talk like that.”

“How do you know?”

“I was one,” you say. You read the response to Shimura’s chosen prompt again. “This skews really young. Like, twelve or something.”

Shimura’s face twists with disgust. “How do we fix that?”

“Fewer exclamation points,” you suggest. Shimura writes that down. “Does it have to be high school girls? For this game?”

“They’re supposed to be college girls so it’s legal. The outfits are how the dev wants it.” Shimura rolls his eyes. “But he’s a pro hero, so it doesn’t matter that he’s a perv. Right?”

“I didn’t know there were pros making computer games,” you say. “I know a lot of them have side hustles, but – pervy dating sims?”

“Pervy dating sims. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“I’ve been captured seventeen times and only twice by cops,” you say. “I don’t really have a bubble.”

“Seventeen times,” Shimura repeats. “I can’t tell if that’s a flex or not. Who got you?”

“Um –” You think it over. “Kamui Woods, back when he was field-testing that Lacquered Chain Prison thing.”

“That thing fucking sucks.”

“Tell me about it. Death Arms nabbed me at one point, but he dropped me when I turned him green.” You’re still proud of that one, even if you got in worse trouble for it than usual. “Endeavor actually caught me tagging something once. I would have been screwed, except I guess he was looking for a more high-profile case.”

“So he just let you go?”

“Yep.” You think back on the other times you got booked. “One time Fatgum got me. And then some work-study kids from Shiketsu High.”

Shimura snorts. “Kids got you?”

“My quirk’s not very dangerous,” you say. By that point you’d learned that turning people different colors could net you an assault charge. “And then it was Eraserhead. Four or five times. I can camouflage with my quirk and he could turn it off.”

Shimura nods. He’s clicking through screens on the dating sim. “What about you?” you ask. “Who caught you?”

“I only got taken into custody one time,” Shimura says. “I had run-ins with, uh – Eraserhead, Present Mic, Thirteen, All Might, Endeavor, Kamui Woods, Ryukyu, Miruko –”

Those are all big-name heroes. You have to wonder what Shimura did. “But I guess Midoriya’s the one who made it stick,” Shimura concludes. Midoriya? It takes you a second, and Shimura fills in. “The one with the stupid name. Deku.”

“Oh.”

Deku’s active hero career was fairly short, and all his fights were big ones. Shimura must have been working for somebody powerful before the war, or during it. Shimura’s shoulders stiffen, suddenly. “Forget I said that.”

“Okay,” you say. Maybe he’s embarrassed about getting captured by a student, even if you just told him you did the same thing. “If you forget I got arrested seventeen times.”

“Deal.” Shimura clicks through a few more screens, then curses. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” You peer at the screen, and Shimura blocks it. “Is it proprietary or something?”

“No, it’s porn,” Shimura says. He’s scowling. “There’s not one route in this game that doesn’t end with the player getting laid by three characters at once.”

Three seems like a lot, but – “Isn’t that kind of what dating sims are for?” you ask. Shimura shrugs. What little of his face you can see around the mask is flushed. “Wait, is this how you have to test them? Playing through every route?”

“And getting all the bonus cutscenes.” Shimura rolls his eyes. He glances at the screen. “Great. There’s audio.”

“What kind?” you ask. “You have to check if it works, right?”

“Maybe it’s background music,” Shimura says. He presses play.

It’s not background music. It’s exactly what you’d expect, and it’s painfully loud. Shimura scrambles to mute the game and pauses it two seconds after a shot of something anatomically improbable. “Let me guess – the lighting’s fucked up here, too. Right?”

“And the facial movements don’t match the audio,” you say. “Did the developers send you this before it was ready?”

“No, they’re just on a budget. This is as ready as it gets.” Shimura shows you a dialogue prompt. “Do women say stuff like this?”

“Um – no. Not as a first-time thing. If this is a first-time route.”

“It is.” Shimura groans. “I still have a quarter of the route left. Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“The couch. I need your help with this and you only have one chair at your kitchen table.”

Your couch is sort of messy. You shift the blankets and pillows around to make room for two. Shimura props his feet on the coffee table, sets a pillow on his lap, and balances the laptop on it. “If you spot any more off-balance graphics, tell me. I already made a note about the dialogue.”

“Can you turn the brightness up?” You sit down next to him. The contrast shifts, and you wince. “The light’s wrong.”

“Again?”

“Yeah. Unless that love interest is supposed to give off light.” You don’t know anything about this game. Maybe it actually is about glowing college girls in high school uniforms who really like foursomes. “If she isn’t, that’s a problem, because she’s the light source for the whole frame. And if she is, there’s no shading, so it’s flat again.”

“Ugh.” Shimura rolls his shoulders. “This is gonna be a long night.”

It’s going to be a long night, but it’s also sort of fun. You haven’t hung out with a friend in a while, and it’s nicer than you remember. You decide you want hot chocolate, so you make a cup for Shimura, too, and you learn a lot more about making erotic dating sims than you ever wanted to know. By the third porn interlude, Shimura’s basically out of patience. “This is a waste of time.”

“You’re getting paid for it, right?” you ask. Shimura nods. “Is there something you’d be doing if you didn’t have to do this?”

“Yeah. I’d be talking to you about something other than this dumb game.” Shimura hits the skip button five times in a row. “What were you doing when I texted?”

“Trying to read.” You point out the book on the coffee table and Shimura inspects it. “I used to read a lot when I didn’t have a phone, but it’s hard to get back into it when the phone is right there. That’s why I texted back so fast.”

Shimura’s frowning behind his mask. “Why didn’t you text me first?”

“To ask if your power was out and invite you over?” you ask, puzzled, and Shimura’s frown deepens. “I’d text you more if I thought I could get away with it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Um, just that I’m not sure how much you want to talk,” you say, “and I don’t want to annoy you. That’s it.”

“You know what’s annoying? That.” Shimura clicks through a few more screens. “We can’t talk at the café because you’re busy. You never ask to meet up when you aren’t busy. When else are we supposed to talk?”

“Shimura –” You must have missed something, somewhere. Some little detail that makes all of this make sense. The lights in your apartment flicker, and your stomach jolts. “I think the power’s going.”

“Shit.” Shimura starts typing faster, splitting his screen between the game and the document where he’s been making corrections. “Shit!”

“If the internet goes out, I can use my phone as a hotspot,” you offer.

“The signal won’t be strong enough. I have to send so many fucking screengrabs.” Shimura’s fingers fly across the keys. “If you want to help, start praying that the electricity holds out long enough for me to get this done.”

“I’ll pray,” you say. “I don’t want to be responsible for you losing your job and going back to a life of crime.”

Shimura laughs at that, raspy and sharp, and keeps typing. You watch as he clicks through stages, skips cutscenes he’s already played, hits a key on his keyboard that generates screengrabs of any stage he’s found an issue with, all while typing into a note document at the same time. He’s fast. You’ve never seen him work this fast in the café, but then again, you’ve never really gotten to observe him in the café, either. You’re always busy. Too busy to talk – at least not as much as Shimura wants to talk. He wants to talk to you more. Has he really been waiting for you to make the first move?

The lights flicker again, the room going dark for a split second before brightening up again. Shimura’s no longer typing – instead he’s watching a file upload to a server, progressing a few megabytes at a time. You switch from facetiously praying to actually praying. Your power only needs to hold out long enough for Shimura’s upload to finish.

The entire status bar on the upload turns green, and a checkmark appears, confirming it’s complete. A second later, your power goes out, plunging your apartment into near-total darkness.

Shimura breathes a sigh of relief. “That was close,” he says, and shuts the lid of his laptop, making the darkness complete. “Now I don’t have to return to my life of crime.”

“Good,” you say. “I’d be sad not to see you at the café again.”

He said he wanted to talk to you more, so it’s probably safe for you to say you’d be sad not to see him. Your eyes haven’t adjusted enough to make out more than Shimura’s shape in the darkness. “I looked up the NCRA thing. You could have gone for job training. Why’d you decide to open up a coffee shop?”

“I didn’t just want to make money.” You got asked this same question when you applied for the NCRA in the first place. “People always told me that I was selfish, because all criminals are selfish, so I wanted to make something for other people. I wanted to be able to give other people something I didn’t have when I needed it.”

Shimura sets his closed laptop on the coffee table with a quiet thud. “You really seized the day with this stuff, huh?”

“I didn’t want to live the way I was living before,” you say. “It was either stop living or try something else.”

“Did you think it would work?”

“I didn’t know,” you say. “I wanted to find out.”

That’s what it was, more than anything else. You told yourself you’d go one day at a time, that at the end of each day you’d decide if it was worth trying again tomorrow. At first it was out of spite. The early days of the NCRA were filled with detractors, people who thought criminals and villains deserved to rot in prison or worse, and every day you went without violating your probation was a day you spent pissing them off. But soon it was more than that. You worked on names for the café, too focused on finding the right one to pretend it didn’t matter. You taught yourself to use an espresso machine, and you wanted the chance to use it. You put your first mural up and started planning the next one. Without meaning to, surviving out of spite became surviving for yourself.

“Yeah,” Shimura says after a second. “I want to find out, too.”

Something about his tone of voice captures your attention. You turn to face him, turning on the flashlight on your phone, but the brightness makes you flinch. You lower it partially, and Shimura’s hand comes up to force it down the rest of the way. “Don’t,” he says. “I have to take off my mask.”

Anticipation puts a twist in your spine, and as your eyes readjust to the darkness, you see Shimura unhook one side of his mask, then the other, lowering it away from his face. You’ve never seen the lower half of his face before. “Why did you take it off if you don’t want me to see?”

“Because I want to kiss you and it would get in the way.”

You thought your crush on Shimura was going nowhere fast. You didn’t think there was any chance he’d want you, too. His gloved hands settle at your waist and stay there, shifting you closer to him. You feel his breath against your cheek a moment before his lips, dry and cracked, meet yours.

It’s a quick kiss. Quick, and tentative. He draws back, but he doesn’t go far. You can still feel his breath against your skin, and when you lean forward again, he kisses you a second time. A second time melts into a third, a fourth, blending so seamlessly into each other that you lose count. Kissing Shimura doesn’t set you on fire, but you can’t remember another time where you felt curious like this. Where you’ve wanted to see what another kiss will do, rather than losing patience and pulling away.

The power doesn’t come back on, and just like the darkness emboldened Shimura to take off his mask, it emboldens you to unfold your hands from your lap and touch him. His kisses grow more insistent as you run your hands along his back, when you rest them against his shoulders, fingers uncurling along the length of his collarbones. Shimura’s hands don’t leave your waist, but his grip on you tightens. It tightens further when you run your fingers along the side of his neck.

You’ve seen him scratching there, so it’s not hard to imagine it’s a sensitive place. You draw back from kissing him and press your lips against it, and Shimura speaks, his voice even raspier than usual. “Did you like me this whole time?”

“Huh?”

“Did you like me this whole time? You gave me free stuff when I came in.”

“I gave you discounted stuff,” you correct. You kiss his neck again. Shimura stirs discontentedly under your hands and mouth. “You were a new customer. I wanted you to come back.”

“You saved a pastry for me the day that hero showed up,” Shimura says. “Did you like me then?”

He’s really stuck on this. “Why do you want to know?”

“I couldn’t tell if you liked me or not. I thought you did, but I wasn’t sure.” Shimura’s head tilts, exposing more of his throat, but you’re more interested in his shoulder, partially revealed by the neck of his oversized shirt. “I want to know when.”

“It would have been when I saved the pastry for you, except you were kind of a dick that day,” you say. Shimura snorts. “After that. But before your birthday. I meant it when I said I’d go to your party.”

“You’d be the only one.” Shimura’s hands leave your waist, sliding beneath your shirt. He’s still wearing his gloves, but his exposed fingertips are rough. “Next year.”

He’s thinking way ahead. How do you feel about that? “Yeah,” you say, edging closer to him. “Next year.”

Part of you feels crazy for this. You’re crazy for making out with Shimura on your couch, yanking off his shirt and letting him unhook your bra, tangling your hands up in his hair and tugging it ever so slightly and feeling a sharp stab of desire when he gasps against your mouth. The rest of you doesn’t care. There will always be something within you that doesn’t evaluate risk quite right, that doesn’t care about the aftermath when something you want is right in front of you. Shimura is the first thing you’ve wanted in so long that’s got nothing to do with the faultless new life you’ve been trying to build. You want him, and some part of you will always be bad at saying no to what you want.

An alarm goes off on Shimura’s phone and scares the two of you apart. You’re closer to it, and when you grab it, you notice two things right away. First, that Shimura’s alarm is labeled “go to sleep, moron”. Second, the time. “It’s two am.”

“Shit.” Shimura lifts the phone out of your hands and silences the alarm. “You need to wake up in three hours.”

“The café’s closed tomorrow.” You’re sort of touched that he remembered how early you have to wake up on workdays. Your heart is still beating too fast. “Do you need to go?”

“The streetlights are still out.” It’s pitch-dark outside your window. “Can I crash on your couch?”

“You could,” you say. “The bed’s more comfortable, though.”

“Yeah, no shit. It –” Shimura’s head snaps up. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I don’t know about you, but I wasn’t done here.”

“Me, either.” Shimura stands up, and so do you. “Let’s go.”

Your apartment is tough to navigate in the dark, even for you, and Shimura bumps into every obstacle you know about and a few more you didn’t think would be a problem. He swerves to avoid the edge of your kitchen table and walks straight into the corner of the hallway that leads to your bedroom and the bathroom. “Fuck!”

“Back up a few steps,” you say. Shimura backs up. “Take two steps to the left. No, your other left.”

Shimura curses again, quieter. “Either this place is a fucking labyrinth, or –”

“You got so wound up you walked into a wall,” you say. Shimura snorts. “You’ve never been here before, Shimura. Take it easy.”

“Tenko.”

“Hm?”

“It’s Tenko,” he says. You get the faintest hint of butterflies in your stomach. “We made out for three hours and you invited me back to your bedroom. Quit it with the Shimura thing. I’ve been using your name the whole time.”

“Okay. Tenko.” You step forward until you’re right in front of him. “Hold out your hands.”

He holds them straight out at shoulder height and narrowly avoids smacking you in the face. You take them both and pull them down, noting how badly Tenko startles. “You’ve been using my first name, but you don’t want to hold my hands?”

“I don’t get why you want to hold mine.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you say, puzzled. You take one step back, and another, and another after that, until your back hits your bedroom door. “Like you said, I asked you to stay over.”

“I asked to stay over. You said –”

“I remember.” You can’t believe you did that. You don’t regret it, but you’re a little floored. “I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t want to hold your hands, too.”

Tenko steps forward, crowding you against the door, and kisses you without letting go of your hands. It feels different than the earlier kisses, not frantic or heated, not light or uncertain, not slow or deep or inexorable. This feels like a movie kiss, the kind at the end of a romcom where everything and nothing’s been resolved. Your life has never been a movie. There’s every chance that this is a mistake. But you don’t mind setting it aside for a little while, from now until you fall asleep. You keep kissing Tenko in your lightless apartment, and you don’t let go of his hands until it’s time to open your bedroom door.

You’re not hungover when you wake up, and when you think about it, you’re not actually confused. You know why it’s warmer in your bed than usual, why you feel like that, why the first thing that hits you is uncertainty, anxiety. Shimura came over last night, because the power went out in his apartment and he still had work to do. The power didn’t go out in your apartment until after his work was finished. And you shouldn’t be calling him Shimura in your head, because sometime between the couch and your bedroom, he told you to call him Tenko – and then he gave you a lot of chances to get used to saying his name.

Your face goes up in flames at the memory, but there’s no stopping it, and there’s no relief in waking up. When you turn your head, you see Tenko asleep on his side, the shadowy scars on his back interrupted here and there with scratches you left. It’s the scratches more than anything that hammer it home to you, more than the fact that you’re naked or the soreness between your legs. You slept with Shimura Tenko last night, and you let him come inside you, and you didn’t pee after sex like you’re supposed to do. You didn’t even clean up. What did you do?

You sit bolt upright in a panic, and beside you, Tenko stirs. “Too early,” he mumbles. One hand reaches out for you, closes three fingers and a thumb around your forearm, and yanks you back down. “Sleep.”

“I don’t usually sleep late,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I don’t usually sleep.” Tenko’s halfway back to it already. You glance at the hand holding your arm and realize that it’s ungloved. You’ve never seen Tenko without his gloves. “Don’t ruin it.”

You’re ruining his sleep by getting up? How? The question is answered when he flops back against you, forcing you into the role of the big spoon whether you want it or not. You know he doesn’t sleep well. You’ve seen dark circles under his red eyes, and he wouldn’t have set a two am alarm that calls him a moron for staying awake if going to sleep was easy for him. Tenko’s a guest, and your friend – maybe – and whatever else he is or isn’t, you slept with him last night, and he slept over. Maybe you should just be grateful that he didn’t flee the scene. You’ve heard guys do that the morning after. It’s not something you’ve seen before, because nobody you ever slept with before stayed the night. They wouldn’t have, even if you’d had a place to stay.

You lie back down and wrap your arm loosely around Tenko’s waist, turning your head and pressing your cheek against his shoulder. There’s scar tissue under your cheek, just like there was on his neck, just like there is on his back and his arms. Something horrible happened to him. You don’t have the first clue what it is, but it’s in his past. He’s here. You close your eyes and do your best to fall asleep.

When you wake up again, there’s light slanting through the window, and your ceiling fan is on. The power’s back. Tenko’s here, awake, but he must have left at some point, because he has his mask on again. He’s also got his phone in his ungloved hand, scrolling away at something. His other hand, still gloved, rests on your bare back. Not doing anything, not starting anything. Just – there.

You clear your throat. “You’re still here.”

“Where else was I gonna be?” Tenko gives you a weird look. His bedhead is absolutely horrendous. “I don’t have a new project yet and it’s your day off. So we can hang out.”

You think through what you were going to do today. It wasn’t much. Mostly errands – laundry, picking up a prescription. But you’d planned to do something fun, too. “Want to go down to the beach?”

“The beach?” Tenko sounds like he’s thinking about it. Then he shakes his head. “Too many people.”

“On the main beach. I go to a different one. It’s a lot quieter over there.” You look up at him. “After a storm like last night’s there should be tons of good stuff washed up. And if you want we can come back here to hang out afterward. Or go to your place.”

“My place is gross,” Tenko says. He grimaces behind the mask. “I mean – I’m not gross. It’s gross. Everything has a hole in it. And I don’t have, like – I don’t decorate. It’s not –”

“It’s okay,” you say. “We don’t have to go there today.”

“Some other time,” Tenko says. “I have to clean.”

“I’d have cleaned if I’d known you were coming over.”

“This place is clean.” Tenko’s fingers tap a pattern on your back. “Fine. I’ll go to the beach with you. If anything bites me I’m leaving.”

“We’re not getting in the water. It’s still too cold,” you say, laughing. “But sure. Fine. You’ve got a deal.”

“I’m serious. If something bites me –”

“I’ll protect you.” You sit up as he scoffs, leaning in to kiss his cheek over the mask. “You agreed to try it. It’s the least I can do.”

You can tell Tenko’s frowning when you draw back. “We had sex last night and I get a cheek kiss?”

“I’m not making out with you through your mask.”

“Close your eyes, then.”

You do. You’re not sure why Tenko’s so insistent on only taking off his mask when you can’t see his face, but you don’t have a problem respecting that boundary as long as he still kisses you every so often. Just like last night, you feel Tenko’s breath against your skin before his lips meet yours – but while last night you had curiosity, now you have memories, and heat floods through you as you kiss him. When Tenko pulls you down into his lap, you don’t argue with him. He's already half-hard, and he hisses sharply when you shift against him. It’s all too easy to imagine his expression.

You saw shadows of it last night, and you remember something else, too. “Did you make me close my eyes so I wouldn’t call you pretty again?”

“Not pretty,” Tenko mumbles. “You’re weird.”

Maybe, but you’re not wrong, and you also know it’s not a mood killer. A few more kisses and Tenko’s hard again, his hands grasping your hips and pulling you down towards his cock. No condom, again. You didn’t have one last night, and you’re still not on birth control, but – you sink down on him for the second time in twelve hours, and your thoughts flutter uselessly alongside your eyelids. You had your period a week ago. You’re not going to get pregnant. It’s – fine –

It’s so close to noon that you can barely call it morning sex, but if this thing with Tenko keeps up, morning sex is a strong contender for your favorite kind. Or maybe you just like riding him. Maybe both. It’s slow and easy, and Tenko leans back against the headboard, letting you do most of the work. He has one request, though. One thing that’s odd. “My right hand. Hold it down.”

You curl your fingers around his wrist and pin it to the headboard, and his hips jerk sharply. “Yeah. Don’t let go.”

His right hand’s immobilized, but his left stays on your hip, fingernails digging in as you increase your pace. With your eyes closed, with nothing to ground yourself but Tenko’s touch, it’s all too easy to lose yourself. You come on his cock in a rush of pleasure that leaves you gasping, and Tenko’s wrist strains in your grip as he loses control seconds later, a low moan wrenching itself out of his mouth. He’s shaking beneath you, and when he speaks, his voice is a wreck. “This was a bad idea,” he says, and your heart plummets. “Now I’m too tired for the beach.”

You laugh breathlessly. “I bet we can rally,” you say. “Let me know when it’s safe to open my eyes.”

Even once Tenko’s put his mask back on, he doesn’t want to let you out of his lap. You get up anyway and stagger to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the way. You definitely look like you had sex twice in the last twelve hours. You don’t look half as anxious as you feel. You vaguely remember telling yourself not to worry about what this means last night, but you and Tenko are going to have to talk at some point, because not knowing what’s going on is stressing you out.

You have to kick Tenko out of bed when you get back from the bathroom, because not changing the sheets is also stressing you out. So is not having very many choices in the breakfast department, even though you had no idea he was coming over and even less of one that he’d spend the night. You can provide coffee, at least – the espresso machine you learned on is still in your kitchen at home. You upgraded the café’s as soon as you possibly could.

You don’t have the usual flavored syrups here, but you mix two cappuccinos instead. Tenko pulls his mask to one side and tries a sip. “This is good,” he says, surprised in a way that should offend you but doesn’t. “Next time I’m ordering one of these.”

“Instead of the mocha?”

“Instead of the coffee.” Tenko takes another sip. “I found frozen waffles in the freezer. Can I eat those?”

“Yeah. The toaster’s over there.”

You discover a few seconds later that Tenko wasn’t actually planning to defrost the waffles before eating them, and you spend a little while being appalled before you show him how to toast them properly. The two of you eat standing up in the kitchen and finish your coffee, and Tenko plugs in his laptop while you switch out the laundry. “I can leave this here, right?” he asks when you come back to the living room. “We’re coming back after?”

“Yeah.” You watch as Tenko leaves his backpack but pockets his phone and keys. “Let’s go.”

Your anxiety was held at bay for a while, when you had things to do, but now it’s just the two of you walking side by side down the street, and you’re agonizing about whether to hold his hand. Tenko’s hand brushes with yours once, twice, before you lose patience. “Do you want to hold hands?”

Tenko’s eyes widen over his mask, and he doesn’t answer you, but a moment later, his hand closes awkwardly over yours. You haven’t held hands in a while. You don’t think this is how it’s supposed to work. But you’re holding hands with Tenko. That’s what you wanted. Everything’s fine.

“Why did you move here?” Tenko asks, as the two of you pass the street that leads down to the main beach and keep walking. “Out of everywhere?”

“It was strongly suggested by my probation officer that I get out of the city,” you say. “He thought I’d be less likely to fall back into my old ways if I was in a small town, since I’d actually know the people whose buildings I was defacing.”

“Didn’t you get busted for tagging your own house?”

“Yep.” Looking back, it was an incredibly stupid move. Your parents were already at the end of their rope with you. You should have known they’d cut you loose. “And I’d always wanted to live near the ocean, so it worked out. What about you?”

“I needed somewhere out of the way,” Tenko says. “It didn’t matter where.”

“And you got here five years ago?” You keep walking past the second beach access road. The road to your beach is a lot more out of the way. “We must have gotten here around the same time, then.”

“I was first. I’d been here three months when you started renovating that building.” Tenko’s eyes seem far away. “It was good timing. People were starting to ask questions about me, but then they switched over to you instead.”

“Glad I could help.” You feel funny about the fact that you were running interference for him, four and a half years before he ever set foot in your café. “And I’m glad you picked this place for a fresh start.”

“People like me don’t get fresh starts,” Tenko says. You’re about to point out that as a person without a record, all he has to do for a fresh start is move, but he speaks before you can. “I’m glad I ended up here, too.”

You’ll take it, even if you have a lot of questions about everything else he just said. The two of you walk in silence for a little while. It’s a cloudy day, with only faint sunbeams sneaking through, and the wind carries a faint chill even though it’s officially summer by now. “What should we do when we get back?” Tenko asks.

“We aren’t even there yet.”

“Yeah, but I want to know what I have to look forward to,” Tenko says. You roll your eyes. “You don’t play games. Do you want to learn?”

“Maybe,” you say. “I’m not going to be good at it. I’d slow you down.”

“You’ll get better fast if I’m the one teaching you,” Tenko says. “There are lots of different games. I can teach you to play any of them. Except dating sims.”

“You don’t like playing dating sims?” You fake surprise, and it’s Tenko’s turn to roll his eyes. “Do you have to test a lot of them?”

“I test whatever people send me. That’s why it’ll be easy for me to teach you,” Tenko says. “They’re all the same underneath. I haven’t played one in a long time that was actually a challenge.”

His grip on your hand relaxes slightly, his fingers sliding through yours to lace them together. “I used to really like games. It sucks.”

You squeeze his hand slightly. You’ve been there, or somewhere like it. It took you a long time to get back into art after you joined the NCRA. “Have you ever thought about making one? A game?”

“Like the kind I’d want to play?” Tenko seems to perk up for a second. Then his shoulders slump. “Nobody else would want to play it.”

“It sounds like you’ve got an idea, though.” You nudge him lightly with your shoulder and he stumbles. Oops. “Want to tell me about it?”

He hesitates for a while. A really long while. Then: “It’s mystery and horror, but not jump-scare horror. There are monsters, but they aren’t the real problem – or the ones you see aren’t the ones you should be worried about. It’s hard to explain. Anyway, the player character – it’s all going to be second-person – wakes up in a room they don’t recognize with no memory of how they got there. You can remember some things about your life, but how you got from where you’re supposed to be to stage one of the game is a total question mark. So there are two initial objectives. Figuring out what the hell is going on and getting the hell out of there.”

“Okay,” you say. It sounds stressful. “How do you do that? In the game.”

“You have to find a way out of the building first.” Tenko looks surprised that you’re still asking questions. “And that’s easy enough, so then –”

For a game he thinks no one else would want to play, Tenko’s put a lot of thought into it. He’s still talking about it as the two of you make the turn onto the beach access road – about the storyline of the game, the twists and reveals he’s thought of, the need to tweak the design and color palette to make everything seem just slightly off. The question of music or no music, and if music, what it should sound like. You like hearing him talk about something important to him, something he’s excited about, even if the concept of the game is giving you heart palpitations. You don’t think there are many things that make Tenko happy. You’d like to be one of them.

You get down to the beach at last, and just like you were hoping, it’s basically deserted. The tide is on its slow, steady way back in, but the beach is strewn with logs and twists of seaweed and kelp, and you’re willing to bet that there’s some sea-glass lying around in the debris along the high-tide line. Tenko studies it, significantly less ambivalent than he was a second ago. “When you said there’d be more stuff, I didn’t think you meant trees.”

“A storm can dredge up all kinds of things,” you say. “And last night’s storm was pretty bad. Come on.”

Tenko lets you pull him a little closer to the water, until you’re both walking on hard-packed sand. You get distracted by the debris field almost immediately, and you let go of Tenko’s hand without thinking so you can search for sea-glass more efficiently. Tenko’s tone of voice makes it clear he’s amused. “So this is like a scavenger hunt for you?”

“I guess.” You come up with a brown piece, followed by a green one, both of them old and smooth. “I want to make something for the café. I’ve been collecting it since I moved here.”

“Five years and you still don’t have enough?”

“The idea for the project keeps getting bigger,” you admit. Tenko snorts. “You can go on ahead if you want. I don’t want to slow you down.”

“I want to hang out with you.” Tenko crouches down next to you on the sand. “This is fine.”

You find multiple pieces in the time it takes him to find one, which he offers to you. It’s a pretty piece, sky-blue and frosted over, but you shake your head. “You found it. It’s yours.”

“I found it for you,” Tenko says, but you notice that he pockets it. And that he keeps looking.

The two of you wander from debris field to debris field, the tide inching up behind you. You’re comfortable with the silence – it’s how it usually is when he’s at the café, after all – but beneath the veneer of ease, questions are eating at you. Questions you don’t know how to ask or how to answer. Your crush on Shimura Tenko is intense, but it’s never been something real. It was just proof that you were getting back to normal, that you could live a life not dominated by the need to prove to the rest of the world that criminals are people, too. You never expected your crush to turn into sleeping with him, him staying the night, him wanting to hang out the next day – and even if you had expected it, you’d never have expected it to happen so fast.

“You were right,” Tenko says. You glance at him. “No people. It’s not as bad.”

You nod. “I’d come back if you wanted to,” Tenko says. He tilts his head, studying you. “Do you want to?”

“Do you want to do all this again?” you ask. He gives you a weird look. “The whole sex, sleepover, hang out the next day thing?”

“That’s what people do, isn’t it?” Tenko’s giving you an even weirder look now. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about –” The distress is building beyond what you can handle. You force yourself to take a deep breath. “What we are. To each other. After that.”

He’s not giving you a weird look anymore. He’s looking at you like you’re the dumbest person he’s ever met. You feel like the dumbest person anybody’s ever met, ever. “Like, are we friends with benefits, or –”

“You said you like me,” Tenko cuts you off. “I like you. Do you think I just – with anybody? I’ve been here for five fucking years. Do you know how many people have my phone number? One. The day that hero showed up, I never would have come back, except –”

His hand comes up, scratching his neck with gloved fingers. “I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t like you. Why do you think it took me so long?”

It? What is he talking about? “I do like you,” you say. “I really like you. I just didn’t think anything would happen. Or happen that fast.”

“Hooking up like that was your idea,” Tenko says. You don’t want to own up to that, but it’s true – he was the one who kissed you, but you were the one who suggested heading back to your room. “Do you wish we hadn’t?”

“I wish I’d been better prepared,” you admit. Tenko blinks. “If I had condoms things wouldn’t have been as messy.”

“I like it messy.” Tenko states it so plainly that you feel your face heat up. “We’ll get condoms. You can stop freaking out whenever you want.”

“I’m not freaking out,” you say. “I just –”

The scream comes out of nowhere, cutting off a thought you didn’t have a prayer of articulating properly. “Help!”

It’s a kid’s voice, high-pitched and splitting with fear. You can’t identify where it’s coming from, and there’s not even a question of what you’ll do. You and Tenko trade a glance, then rocket to your feet. Tenko takes off down the beach. You head back the way you came. “Keep yelling!” you shout to the kid. “Let us know where you are!”

The kid keeps yelling, getting steadily less coherent. They must be closer to you than to Tenko, because their voice is getting louder. You veer closer to the water’s edge, your heart in your throat. The water’s already rushing up around the logs the storm left behind, up to your ankles and getting higher. The kid’s scream takes on a new urgency. “Hurry! The waves –”

You skitter around a log, giving it a wide berth to avoid the deeper pool of water beneath it, and find the kid, halfway trapped under another log and struggling to keep his head above water. He spots you, opens his mouth to scream again, and catches a mouthful of seawater from the wave that’s just rolled in.

You duck down beside him, hoisting his head and shoulders up, buying time. You suck down a breath and let loose a shout of your own. “Tenko! Over here!”

It seems like an eternity before he appears around the side of the log. He looks at the kid, then at you. “What the hell happened?”

The kid is crying too hard to answer, but it’s not hard to guess. “He must have been climbing on the log, and it rolled over on him.”

“What were you doing out here alone?” Tenko demands of the kid. The kid doesn’t answer, and Tenko’s red eyes flash with rage. “Who was supposed to take care of you? Why aren’t they here?”

“Hey,” you snap. This isn’t helping. “I need you to call emergency services. Tell them we’re at Fourth Beach and there’s a kid in trouble.”

Tenko pulls out his phone and dials, while you try to strategize. The tide is coming in faster now. Even if emergency services gets here at their top speed, there’s a good chance the water will have already covered the kid’s head. Based on the way he’s panicking, you don’t think he has a quirk that lets him breathe underwater, and you have a fleeting thought about heroes before remembering that you’re in a rural town. There are no heroes here. You and Tenko are going to have to get him out yourselves.

Your quirk is worse than useless for this. You don’t know what Tenko’s quirk is, or if he even has one. Tenko shoves his phone in his pocket and hurries back to your side. “They said they’re coming.”

“How long?”

“Ten minutes.”

The kid doesn’t have ten minutes, and all three of you know it. “Here’s what I’m thinking,” you say, trying to keep your voice calm. “When the next wave comes in, we can use its momentum to roll the log forward and pull him out from underneath it.”

“It’s huge,” Tenko says. “That won’t work.”

“It rolled from him stepping on it,” you say. “We can do this.”

Tenko doesn’t argue with you. He turns to watch the waves, looking for a likely one, while you explain the situation to the boy. He’s going to have to hold his breath while you and Tenko push the log, and then one of you – probably you – will pull him out. He starts to protest, but then Tenko calls out that a wave’s coming up, and the boy switches to sucking down air instead. Good. You hold him up until the last possible moment, then get to your feet. You take up a position at Tenko’s side, set your feet as firmly as you’re able to in the shifting sand, and shove hard at the log as the wave washes up around it.

You think you feel it move, a little bit. But then the water recedes, and you scramble back to the kid, and as soon as his head breaks the surface, he howls in pain. “My leg!”

You must have rolled the log back on it – or forward, or something. “We need a bigger wave.”

Tenko shakes his head. He looks like he’s going to be sick. You can hear sirens in the distance, but they’re too far away. The kid is screaming, clawing at your shirt, and you struggle to comfort him, promising that help is coming, promising it’ll be okay. It doesn’t work, or else what happened to his leg in your failed attempt to move the log is worse than you thought, because his eyes roll up in his head and he goes boneless in your grip. You shake him, terrified, desperate to keep his head above water as another wave crashes against your back. He’s going to die. A kid is going to die while you’re holding him, and there’s nothing you can do.

You can’t look at his pale, slackened face a second longer. You look up instead, and that’s when you see the solitary crack running across the log’s surface.

It wasn’t there before, and now it’s not alone. One crack turns into a dozen, and dozens more, spreading and colliding with each other until the log simply crumbles away, leaving nothing in its place. Nothing except Tenko on the other side, both hands outstretched – and ungloved.

Something twists in the back of your mind, but the kid is free now, and the tide is still coming in. You start dragging him up the beach, trying to get clear of the high-tide line. A quick glance at his leg shows you that it’s broken, badly, but you can’t worry about it now, or get lost in the fact that it’s your fault. The two of you make it onto dry sand just in time for a trio of paramedics to race down the beach, carrying a stretcher and pursued by five or six terrified people. “What happened?”

“He got – stuck,” you manage. Your teeth are chattering. You aren’t even that cold. “Is he going to be okay?”

The paramedics have questions for you, even as they shoo you out of the way. Did he swallow water? Yes. Did he breathe water in? You don’t know. How long has he been unconscious? A minute, maybe less. Time feels uneven, unreal. You don’t have a clue what’s going on, and you stand blankly off to one side, unsure whether you’re supposed to stay or go. Maybe you can go. Everybody knows where to find you if they have questions, and you’ll calm down faster if you and Tenko can –

Tenko’s not standing next to you. You look up and down the beach, but you can’t see him anywhere.

Maybe emergency services scared him off. He booked it pretty fast at the sight of Present Mic. You pull your phone out of your pocket to text him, but your phone’s dripping wet and unresponsive. Now you really need to get home, and maybe Tenko’s there already. He saved someone’s life. If he’s freaked out even slightly as much as you are, you want to be with him.

But something is nagging at you as you speed-walk back through town, something about Tenko’s quirk. You never asked what it was, but the gloves were enough for you to infer that it had something to do with his hands. And maybe he doesn’t feel all that comfortable with it. You wouldn’t either, if you had a quirk like that. The way it looked, how fast it moved – it was almost like –

You stop dead in your tracks on the side of the road. Tenko’s gloves. His red eyes. His dyed hair and scarred face and mangled hands, and a quirk that lets him destroy things he touches. Even their initials are the same. Shimura Tenko, and. And. Your mind won’t let you finish the thought. You won’t let yourself jump to conclusions like that. You need to be sure. You force yourself into motion, back to a speed-walk. Then into a run.

Back at home, you drop your phone in a bowl of rice and sit down at the kitchen table with your laptop without bothering to change out of your wet clothes. You haven’t been a criminal in half a decade, but you still know how to search the internet like one. This isn’t dark-web level, and it’s not illegal, but you could raise red flags, and if you’re right – you connect to a VPN, open a web browser you’ve never used before, set your cache to empty every five minutes, and type in your first query.

‘shigaraki tomura quirk’ gets you a long list. You have to scroll all the way to the bottom of the first page you click on to find the quirk you’re thinking of, and when you read the description, your heart sinks. You navigate away from the webpage and type in a new prompt. ‘shigaraki tomura decay’ gets you more pages analyzing the quirk itself, all of which feel unnecessary and unhelpful. You know what Decay is. You need to know what it looked like. You modify the search. ‘shigaraki tomura decay video’.

YouTube has nothing, courtesy of aggressive content moderation. You dig a little deeper, finding lesser-known, sketchier hosting sites, and the first video that pops up is of the destruction of Jaku City, at the very beginning of the war. It happens so quickly – too quickly to see anything except the way the buildings implode into nothing. You need an up-close view, so you modify your search, scrolling past video after blurry video until you find one tagged as part of the Deika City massacre.

The quality looks okay. You click on it and find yourself watching a group of people thundering up a street, headed for something just out of frame. A moment later, whatever it is ducks through the corner of the frame. A pale hand rises up, making contact with the face of one of the people in the group. And then you see it. Cracks spreading across their face, just a few at first, and then they spread so rapidly that the person simply falls apart where they stand.

You just watched a snuff film, but that’s not what makes you recoil. What Shigaraki Tomura did to the person in that video is the same thing Tenko did to the log on the beach. It’s the same quirk. They’re the same man.

Tenko’s hair is dyed, and it’s not dyed well. You never asked what his natural color is, but you’re betting it’s white, which is why there’s no way he can get someone else to color it for him. If he walked into a salon with white hair, red eyes, no eyebrows, and a scar over his right eye, there’s not a person in Japan who wouldn’t recognize him instantly.

You type in another query: ‘shigaraki tomura face’. It turns up a lot of photos of him with the signature hand over his face, but you get at least one without it, and the reason why he wears a mask all the time becomes clear in an instant. No eyebrows – happens. Plenty of people have red eyes. But add in the scar over the left side of Tenko’s lips, a scar you ran your thumb over last night, and the birthmark Shigaraki has just below the right corner of his mouth, and he’d be unmistakable. No matter how many bad dye jobs he did on his hair.

You shut the lid of your laptop with shaking hands and sit back in your chair. Shimura Tenko, your regular customer, who slept over last night, who you like and who likes you, is the same person as Shigaraki Tomura, an unrepentant supervillain who’s been dead for five years. It doesn’t make any sense. If Shigaraki had survived the war, he’d be in maximum-security prison for the rest of his life, not beta-testing video games and hanging out in your coffee shop. Shigaraki Tomura is dead. You met the hero who killed him.

Or did he? You remember thinking how odd it was that Deku kept referring to Shigaraki watching what he was doing, wishing he could talk to him. You remember what he said when Spinner asked about Shigaraki’s ashes: There was nothing left of Shigaraki Tomura. But somebody else walked away from that fight, and he’s got Shigaraki’s quirk – and the only time you’ve seen him use it, it was to save someone’s life. You can’t say for sure, but the circumstantial evidence is compelling as hell. You know who Shimura Tenko is. And you’re halfway convinced he used to be Shigaraki Tomura.

You fish your phone out of the bowl of rice to check if it’s working yet. It isn’t. You’re going to have to wait a little longer to reach out to Tenko. His backpack and laptop are still here. He’ll be back for them, probably tonight – and if not, you’ll see him at the café tomorrow, and you can give it to him then. And when you see him again, you can sort this out. There’s nothing else you can do right now.

You tell yourself that, make yourself believe it, and spend the rest of your one day off every week getting your chores done. And even though it’s been an exhausting twenty-four hours, even though there’s nothing you can do, you still toss and turn through the night, thinking about Tenko. Worrying about him. Wondering who he was before this, and wondering at how little it matters to you.

[mybabysittersnotavampire]

My *made up* season 3 episode list and what each episode would be about and a quote from each episode

1 • Dusker Back From the Dead

(The title is a mix of both the season 1 and season 2 first episodes) Ethan and Benny use the Cubile Animus to bring Sarah back from the dead using Vice principal Stern as their sacrifice.

“Can you two stop referencing stupid movies and figure out how to get me out of here!” -Sarah

2 • The Date to (re)Start all Dates

Ethan struggles to plan out the perfect date for him and Sarah, afraid to mess it up he tries to make contact with Jesse to give him advice, but things take a turn for the worse when he finds himself stuck in the limbo dimension.

“Doesn’t feel so great to be trapped in limbo now does it.” -Jesse

3 • Della’s Vengeance

(idea partially by @comicbookddr)

When Della finds Benny’s missing spellbook she decides to use it against him as revenge. Making Benny discover she is also a spellmaster.

“Looks like you’re not the only spellmaster at our school” -Ethan

“…well this is just great..” -Benny

4 • Out of this World (inspired by alien candy)

When a new club forms at Whitechapel High, Rory and Benny find the members suspicious and begin to investigate them, nobody believes them until Ethan has an encounter with the club’s leader and finds out that the club is made up of aliens planning on invading their school.

“Rory stop worrying, they are not going to probe you.” -Ethan

5 • Sleepover Seance

When Jane is hosting a sleepover, the girls venture into the basement after watching a scary movie, wanting to have fun of their own they bring out 'Spirit Speaker'. But it isn't a ghost this time, a sleep demon comes out to play.

"How are they all asleep already?" -Rory

6 • Down the Wishing Well

Sarah discovers the local legend that there is an enchanted wishing well in Whitechapel that grants any wish, but at a cost. When she wishes to be human again, the evil spirits of the well possess her.

“I call on the spirits of this wishing well, I wish to be human again.” -Sarah

7 • Jedi’s Anonymous

When Erica finds herself going back to her old geek self, she joins an online chat room anonymously and starts flirting with another user, she decides to meet up with him in real life and discovers she had been talking to Benny the entire time.

“I’ve been talking to you idiot the entire time?!” -Erica

8 • Living Dead Girl

Rory falls six feet deep for the new girl in town. Although the boys quickly realize something isn’t as it seems when she appears in a yearbook over decades old.

“Well if she’s looking for brains, she definitely chose the wrong one..” -Ethan

9 • The Return of Betty & Veronica

Stephanie creates a golem to go to Whitechapel for junior year seeking vengeance. Betty and Veronica are back on the scene, Rory finds out the truth about Betty.

“These underwear are riding up my butt again” -Ethan

10 • Knights of Ninjitsu

Ethan is having trouble writing a fanfiction to send into his favorite game company as part of a contest. When he runs out of ideas he asks Benny to use a spell that gives him more ideas, Benny accidentally uses the wrong spell, trapping Ethan inside of a video game/his computer.

"Benny, do NOT open zombie stomper." -Ethan

11 • Jane’s Vision

When Jane snoops through her brother’s closet she discovers Ethan’s stash of items from their past enemies. The supernatural power radiating from it all makes Jane develop visions early.

12 • The Princess Leia to my Han Solo

Erica realizes that she has feelings for Benny but on her way to tell him she realizes he’s on a date with another girl. He soon finds out his new date isn’t what she seems.. (he finds out she’s a gorgon)

“That should be my geek out there!” -Erica

13 • The Fog is Coming

Grandma Weir senses another dark force coming and warns the boys, while doing so Ethan’s parents overhear, discovering all of him and his friend’s supernatural secrets, trying to keep Ethan from getting hurt they ground him from leaving the house. Will they stop the evil force coming to Whitechapel?

****************************************************

Anyways thanks for reading I know a lot of the titles probably sucked but they were so hard to come up with ok so go cry to your mother if you don’t like them

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 11: "Last to Know"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 6.9k

a/n: This is another longer installment that brings us through season 3 (I'm planning a different angsty fic to really focus on season 3) and begins to bring us closer to the end of angst...but we're not quite there yet. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks

Sitting across the table from Foggy and Karen, you drew your steaming latte to your lips for a drink. You were partially listening to Karen discuss the new article she was working on for the Bulletin, the newspaper she'd inevitably started working for shortly after Matt had disappeared and Foggy had disbanded their law firm. He had taken a job over at Hogarth, Chao, & Benowitz so he could continue to pay his bills, unable to continue to afford to work at Nelson and Murdock with the other half gone. You had recently thrown yourself into your own work over the last few weeks, gaining a new position with a pay raise and the ability to work from home for your company. Which had proven too convenient because you usually rolled right out of bed and stayed in your pajamas all day, showering after work just to throw on another pair of pajamas. 

It had been almost two weeks since you'd stopped going to Clinton Church now, too. You barely left your apartment anymore since you didn’t need to leave for work. Oftentimes you lost track of time and had been clocking in hours and hours of overtime at your computer. You’d had nothing else going on and you didn't want to think, so you’d found yourself hyperfocused on coding. Your boss had certainly been praising your initiative.

This morning was actually the first time you’d left your apartment in days. You hadn’t even left for groceries, having ordered them and had them delivered to your apartment a few days ago for convenience. Foggy and Karen had been worried about you, frequently telling you as much over texts lately. Which was why you'd eventually caved and met them for coffee this morning. But if you were being honest, you weren't mentally fully present with them. 

Your attention had shifted outside the window as Karen continued on with her animated conversation, Foggy just as enthusiastic as she was with whatever they’d been talking about. You’d unintentionally lost your focus as you often did outside of work lately, your eyes absently lingering on the place outside the window just above Karen’s shoulder. The sidewalk outside the coffee shop was busy with the usual Saturday morning foot traffic and you blankly watched as a multitude of colors swam by. You weren’t sure how long you’d sat staring out the window like that before you realized Karen was snapping her fingers in front of your face. Blinking a few times, you snapped out of your daze and focused back on her and Foggy. Worry was written clear across both of their faces as they stared back at you.

"What?" you asked.

"I was trying to ask you how you liked your new position," Karen said. "I asked you like four times now."

"Sorry, I uh, I was distracted," you replied, sitting up straighter in your chair as both of your hands wrapped around your warm coffee cup. "It's good. It's going good. Working at home is–is good."

Foggy leaned across the table towards you, concern still clear in his eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked gently. "Because you've been distant ever since…"

"I'm fine," you answered automatically, forcing a smile onto your face. 

Foggy and Karen turned and exchanged a look with each other for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you watched. The strained smile on your face was quickly growing uncomfortable. When Foggy focused back on you, he shook his head slowly. 

"No," he disagreed, "you're not. You haven't been fine for a long time. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," you replied defensively. 

From across the table, Karen sent you a sympathetic look. You knew the one. You'd seen it plenty of times now. 

"It's because of what's been popping up in the news, isn't it?" she asked. "The little rumors."

Your head tilted to the side as you eyed her curiously. "What little rumors?" you asked back. 

Karen's gaze flickered to Foggy before it returned to you. Her fingers began drumming on her coffee cup nervously. 

"About the man in black?" she said, voice lowered. 

You sucked in a sharp breath, your back straightening further in the chair. Hope filled you instantly as your eyes searched Karen’s face for answers.

"Matt?" you whispered. 

She opened her mouth to speak but Foggy raised a hand, waving it firmly in the air between the pair of you. The gesture instantly cut her off before she'd even begun.

"It's not Matt," Foggy stated sharply. "Hell’s Kitchen has become ground zero for all kinds of copycat vigilantes lately. It's not him, so don't go giving her false hope, Karen."

Your eyes further narrowed at Foggy. "How do you know it's not him?" you challenged. 

Foggy’s expression softened, a hand running across his forehead. "Because," he answered softly, "if it was Matt, he'd have reached out. Told us he was alive. You know he would. It's been just over a couple of months now, he's had plenty of time to reach out to tell us he survived Midland Circle and he hasn't." He sighed deeply, shaking his head at you. "You need to accept it. He's gone."

"Foggy," Karen gently reprimanded, "that's not–"

"No," Foggy countered firmly, his focus shifting to Karen. "She needs to hear this. She needs to accept it and stop doing what she's been doing to herself! And whatever this bullshit in the news is–it's not Matt." Foggy’s attention returned to you, his eyes pleading. "You have to let this go. You need to accept the fact that Matt–” Foggy winced, “–he's dead.”

Your throat felt like it was closing up, tears welling in your eyes. How could Foggy just accept that as fact so easily? How could he just give up on Matt like that? He had been both of your best friends for so long. Wasn’t there any part of him that had hope?

“Foggy, that’s a little harsh,” Karen chastised. “You’re being really unsympathetic here.”

Foggy shook his head, once again rounding on Karen. “She’s been denying the facts for almost three months now!” he exclaimed. “And look at how she’s been doing! She’s clearly not handling it alright. It looks like she’s barely sleeping and taking care of herself. Every time we see her she’s barely present. And she’s been paying for his apartment for months now!” 

His head spun in your direction, startling you at the abruptness. Your lips were quivering as you sat there, feeling like you were about to break down in the middle of the coffee shop with everything he was saying. 

“You can't keep paying for his apartment and holding onto his things. It's not good for you," Foggy stated sharply. “It’s not sustainable for you to pay for two rents, either. You need to let this go!”

“Foggy–”

“ No !” Foggy growled at Karen. “I’ve already lost Matt, I’m not losing her, too!”

Sniffling loudly, you swiftly rose from the table and wiped the back of your hand across your tear stained cheeks. Both Foggy and Karen’s attention shifted to you instantly. Karen mouthed an apology as Foggy’s face fell beside her.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Home,” you croaked out.

Ignoring Foggy’s pleas to stay, you quickly turned and left the coffee shop with your coffee clutched between both hands. You did your best to duck your head, trying to hide your face as you silently cried the entire walk back to your apartment. 

What a shitty past few days it had been. 

While Matt had been out last night, he'd been stopped in his tracks the moment he realized his hearing had fully come back to him. He could hear the sirens of ambulances approaching where he’d just stepped out onto the street, the sounds of the city around him, the buzz of a neon sign nearby, and the commotion in front of the hospital he’d just exited. He had been stunned, a wave of gratefulness washing over him in that very moment because he could fully hear again . But what were the first words he’d heard in the commotion around him when God had finally decided to restore his hearing?

The FBI had let Wilson Fisk out of prison.

Could God have been laughing at him any more than he already had been? What a fucking cruel joke to restore his hearing just in time for him to hear that Fisk had been released. Matt had been furious . Even more furious at God than he had been lately. But despite his rage since that moment, he knew there was something he needed to do tonight.

If Fisk was free from prison, in any capacity, he knew he’d be seeking revenge on himself, Foggy, and Karen for having put him away. And while Matt Murdock was safe from his vengeance because he was supposed to be dead, Foggy wasn’t. And neither was Karen.

Which was why Matt had donned his winter coat, the baseball cap, and some sunglasses before making the long trek to the bar he knew Foggy frequented near his new place of work outside of Hell’s Kitchen. Despite wanting to have his friends continue to think he was dead, knowing it was safer for them, Matt had admittedly kept tabs on Foggy on and off for weeks now. He didn't let himself ponder the reasoning, though.

But it had only been Foggy he’d checked in on. He couldn’t bring himself to see what you were getting up to. He’d known you’d stopped visiting Clinton Church not too long ago. The last few times you’d visited he’d heard you from the church basement. You would always end up softly sobbing to yourself before you left. And each time you had, Matt had curled up on the basement floor just beneath the pew you’d been sitting in, just to feel some semblance of being near you again, and he cried with you. When night had fallen those nights, he’d immediately gone out as the man in the mask and let the Devil take over, not wanting to feel anything. 

But he hadn’t gone anywhere near your apartment. He couldn’t bring himself to.

And now he was standing outside the bar Foggy was sitting inside at this exact moment. Matt could tell Foggy was upset by how much he’d already had to drink, having known the amount because he’d been standing outside in the alley from the moment Foggy had first showed up and stepped inside. He’d been struggling to get up the nerve to go inside and talk to him, to warn Foggy about staying away from Fisk and letting him deal with things. Because clearly the law wasn’t going to achieve anything on its own at keeping Fisk where he belonged, so it was up to Matt to make things right.  

He knew it wasn’t going to be easy going inside and talking to him, though. Just standing in the alley and knowing he was about to go in there and reveal to Foggy that he wasn’t dead, that he’d been lying and would need Foggy to yet again lie for him–to people both Matt and Foggy cared about– hurt . 

Matt needed to keep his distance to keep you all safe, though–now more than before. Fisk was dangerous, and he was certainly going to come after Foggy and Karen, so Matt needed to make sure both of them stayed out of Fisk’s way. He certainly didn’t need Karen to go chasing after him as the reporter she’d become and further put herself on Wilson Fisk’s radar. She didn’t need to end up like Ben Urich. And he didn’t want Foggy going after Blake Tower for signing off on the FBI’s decision to release Fisk for information–that would certainly garner Fisk’s attention.

But you–Fisk didn’t know about you. You weren’t a part of Nelson and Murdock. Fisk had no reason to know about you, which meant you needed to stay far away from Matt and the Devil so your name would never cross Fisk’s lips.

Which was why he could only go to Foggy. He knew he’d keep the secret in order to keep his friends safe, even if he would absolutely hate Matt for asking that of him. 

And he also needed to steal Foggy’s wallet for his New York State Bar Association license for what he planned to do tomorrow. 

With a sigh, he pushed off of the wall and forced himself to turn the corner and enter the bar. It wasn’t very busy for a Tuesday evening, so Matt easily made his way over near where Foggy was drinking at the counter. He paused when he was just a few feet behind him, nerves twisting in his gut. Foggy was entirely oblivious to Matt’s presence, though, still swirling the alcohol in his glass absently. Squaring his shoulders, Matt steeled himself for the emotional pain that he was about to inflict on both Foggy and himself.

“Fog,” he called out softly.

Matt heard the way Foggy’s head slowly turned towards him, his brows having drawn together in confusion. For a moment Foggy just stared at Matt in perplexed silence. Matt could practically hear the moment when Foggy realized who was standing before him in his slightly intoxicated state. 

“This isn’t real,” Foggy said. "You're not really here."

Matt’s teeth ground together as he gave a single nod at him. “It’s real,” he said softly.

He could hear the way Foggy’s lips drew into a big smile, the only one that had been on his face in the hour that Matt had been standing outside. The bar stool Foggy had been sitting in slid back on the floor as Matt heard Foggy rise to his feet just moments before he felt his friend embrace him in a tight hug. Instinctively Matt’s hands flew up, hugging Foggy in return. He could smell the salt of his unshed tears in the air.

“Hey, Fog,” he greeted quietly.

“How?” Foggy asked in disbelief, still clutching Matt tight. “Where? We thought you were dead!”

Foggy abruptly pulled away from Matt, clearly taking a moment to scan him over. Matt’s hands returned to his cane, fidgeting nervously with it as he practically felt Foggy’s eyes roving him. Seconds later, Foggy said your name and Matt’s heart felt like it shattered instantly. 

“Does she know you’re alive?" he asked. "Does Karen?” 

Pressing his lips tight together to keep from crying, Matt reached a hand out and gently grabbed Foggy’s shoulder.

“Take a seat, Fog,” he ordered.

Foggy did as directed, returning to the bar stool he’d just been seated at. Matt slowly lowered into a stool near him. He braced himself for what he was about to have to say and do now.

“I’m not back,” Matt told him firmly.

Matt heard the smile once again spread across Foggy’s face and the joking tone when he spoke next.

“Well I know I’m not drunk enough to be hallucinating quite yet,” Foggy teased.

Matt shook his head once. “I’m not back,” he repeated. “Matt Murdock isn’t going to be a part of me anymore. I’m…leaving him behind. He isn’t who I am.”

The smile quickly fell from Foggy’s face. “What?” he asked.

Swallowing hard, Matt tried to keep the waver and emotion out of his voice. “The only reason I came here was to warn you and Karen about Fisk now that he’s out. You’re both in danger.”

“Dude–”

“I’m going after him, Foggy,” Matt continued briskly, cutting him off. “I’m going to bring Fisk down. But I can only do that if I know that you and Karen are safe.”

“Hang on, hang on,” Foggy said, waving a hand. “I’m still trying to process the fact that you’re here. Alive .”

“I know that you and Karen are going to want to get involved,” Matt told him, his foot tapping lightly on the bar floor. He needed to get out of here soon before he lost his resolve. “To try to fight him in some way, but I’m telling you that I need you both to stay out of it and leave it to me.”

There was a brief pause after his words. Matt heard the way Foggy slowly shook his head in response. 

“No,” Foggy told him.

“No?” Matt asked in disbelief. 

“No,” Foggy replied more forcefully. “You don’t get to show up after months of me–all of us–thinking you’re dead, say something like that to me, and then just–just expect me to be cool with it. You’re my best friend , asshole!”

Matt’s heart tightened in his chest at the hurt in his best friend’s voice. Foggy’s words stung despite how much Matt knew he deserved them–truthfully he deserved a bigger verbal lashing. But he needed to end this and get out of here. Now.

“I was wrong to become your friend, Foggy,” Matt told him, ignoring the way his own heart beat irregularly at the lie as it left his lips. In time he'd make himself believe it. “I put you in danger and it was selfish of me. While I can’t change the past, I can stop making the same mistake. We’re done, buddy,” Matt said, quickly rising from the bar stool. “It’s over.”

“There’s something seriously wrong with you,” Foggy snapped, his voice cracking.

“Yeah, I know,” Matt agreed, once again fighting the emotion from creeping into his words. "Just stay clear of Fisk. Tell Karen to do the same," he ordered. "And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell her you saw me.”

Matt turned to go, desperate to get away and attempt to control his own emotions. He felt close to tears himself and was grateful for the sunglasses hiding his eyes. He managed two steps before he heard Foggy once again call your name after him. Matt winced at the sound of it, his feet inevitably coming to a stop as his back remained turned to Foggy.

“What about her, huh?” Foggy asked. “You know she’s been a mess since you’ve been gone? She refuses to believe you’re dead, Matt. Am I just supposed to let her continue thinking that now that I know it’s a lie?”

Behind the sunglasses, Matt’s eyes clamped shut. He felt a tear escape and he tried to hide wiping it away as he ran a hand over his mouth. Exhaling a shuddering breath, he tried to keep his voice steady when he answered.

“Yes,” Matt replied, voice softer. “She can’t know.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Foggy roared at his back. “You’re going to do that to her? Make me do that to her?”

Matt sighed, shaking his head but still refusing to turn around. “Fog, she can’t–”

“She’s paying your fucking rent, man,” Foggy spat bitterly. “For months now she’s been paying it. She thinks you’re still out there. Alive. That you’re too injured to find a way to reach out and that’s why it’s been months of us not hearing from you. But no,” he continued, anger clear in his voice, “you’ve been intentionally letting us think you’re dead all of this time.”

Matt couldn’t speak, his throat feeling like it was closing up on him. His hands gripped his cane even tighter. You were paying his rent?

“Why?” he managed, the word breaking.

“Why?” Foggy repeated in disbelief. “Because she cares about you, you idiot! She misses you! You’re one of her absolute best friends, man. She doesn’t want to believe you’re gone.”

Matt tried to swallow but his tongue felt thick and heavy in his own mouth, the gesture feeling near impossible. Fuck, he didn’t want to do this to you. He really didn’t. But he didn’t have a choice, he needed to keep you away from himself to keep you safe from Fisk. From whoever it was that came after Fisk if Matt survived this. It was for your own good.

“Tell her to stop paying for the rent,” Matt told him.

“ I have ,” Foggy ground out. “And you know what she did? She ran home crying and hasn’t answered my calls in days because of it.”

A grimace pulled at Matt’s face. Why were you holding on so tight to him like this? Why couldn’t you just let him go? He wasn’t that great of a friend. He was nothing special. Why couldn’t you just mourn him and move on?

“She–she can’t know,” Matt repeated. “She’ll find some way to get involved or Fisk will figure out she’s close to us and she’ll get hurt. Right now, Fisk doesn’t know who she is, Fog. She can’t know I’m alive.”

“So that’s it?” Foggy asked defeatedly. “I just continue to lie to her for you?”

Matt felt like he couldn’t stay here any longer, he could feel the dam holding his own emotions in check about to burst. He wanted to turn back around and embrace Fog, to apologize and tell him he was wrong for everything he’d done since Midland. He wanted to run to your apartment and beg your forgiveness on his knees for making you think he was dead. To feel you wrap him in your arms and tell him everything was okay and that you forgave him. 

But that couldn’t happen.

“I–I have to go,” Matt muttered.

Without further hesitation, Matt made his way out of the bar, ignoring the way Foggy was shouting his name after him. He hurried down the alley he’d initially been hiding in, pausing at the end of it when he didn’t hear Foggy pursuing him. 

Burying his face in his hands, he sank to the dirty ground and broke down in tears. 

Opening the door to Matt’s apartment, you stepped inside and were instantly hit with a chill. You shivered as you shut the door behind yourself before bending down and picking up the stack of mail that had been shoved under the door for this week. You frowned when you saw a few more overdue bills. Even with the raise you’d received, you were starting to really struggle under the weight of two rents and all of your own bills. 

With a sigh you made your way into the empty apartment, heading straight to the coffee table where you’d neatly organized Matt’s mail in separate piles. Taking a moment, you sorted the mail in your hands into the appropriate stack before you unbuttoned your coat. You slowly slipped it off of yourself before draping it over the arm of Matt’s leather couch. 

The emptiness of Matt’s apartment was only further making you feel the weight of loneliness you’d been experiencing lately, your eyes dancing across his sparsely decorated and overly spacious apartment as your eyes watered. Foggy and Karen had been avoiding you lately, always too busy with something to make time for you. They’d been acting strange for the past few weeks and you didn’t understand why. And it had only added to the hurt you'd been experiencing after everything with Matt.

Foggy had suddenly decided to run for District Attorney, which you’d been shocked about but excited for him nevertheless. But he was always claiming he had something to attend and he’d get back with you later. Karen had been saying she was busy with some story she was following, never having time to even chat on the phone. Though recently you'd heard she had been fired after the attack from a fake Daredevil killing people at the Bulletin–and that in itself had further confused you, but both of them had said it was something to do with Fisk and wouldn’t tell you anything more.

You’d been so lonely you’d finally called Adam back up and eventually gotten together with him for drinks last week. He’d been understanding all those months ago when you’d ended things because of Matt’s supposed passing, claiming you just couldn’t focus on a relationship after the unexpected loss of one of your closest friends. Though now it felt like Adam was all you had left.

And Matt’s apartment. Empty as it always was.

You stepped around the leather couch, your fingers running along the red plaid blanket neatly folded over the back of it as you walked. Stomach sinking as your grief once again hit you, you continued your usual tour of Matt’s place, the same as you did when you stopped in every week to collect his mail and check on the bills you needed to pay for him.

You always started in the living room first, pausing to appreciate the obnoxious billboard you’d grown fond of outside of the windows. Then you’d make your way into the kitchen, marveling at how little he actually had in there. Though you supposed it made sense that he hadn’t cooked much with what he spent his evenings doing. Eventually you’d make your way to his bedroom, pausing in the doorway and wondering what it would be like to be standing there in your pajamas in the morning, a cup of coffee in each hand. One for you and one for Matt. Imagining him waking up in his bed, his hair a ruffled mess and a sleepy smile on his face just for you as morning light seeped in through the windows.

Your heart twisted at the thought and you quickly pushed the mental image away, continuing on. You made your way to his closet where his suits were still all neatly hanging, fingers running along the braille tags on each hanger. With a heavy sigh, you turned to leave the room, but your eyes fell on Matt’s dresser. Coming to a stop, you paused as you eyed it for a moment. As if your feet were moving on their own, you made your way over, pulling open one of the drawers. A handful of neatly stacked, neutral colored shirts met your eyes. Fighting back the tears threatening to spill over, you ran a hand over a worn, dark gray tee-shirt on top. It was incredibly soft.

You didn’t know what it was that came over you, but you found yourself pulling the shirt out of his drawer and bringing it up to your nose. It still smelled like him–that clean detergent scent you loved. A choked noise fell out of you as you buried your face further in the material, wishing it was on Matt’s body and not just crumpled between your desperate fingers.

It was a few minutes before you'd managed to regain your composure and collect yourself. But as you closed his dresser drawer, you still held onto the worn tee-shirt in your hands. And even as you slipped your coat back on in the living room before exiting his apartment, locking it up behind you, you never parted with it. 

You'd spent so much time going back and forth on whether or not you would attend the mass for Father Lantom’s funeral this afternoon that you'd ended up showing up just as people were milling out of the church afterwards. You'd felt bad for having missed it, even if you'd only had a few conversations with him after Matt's memorial service before you'd stopped going to Clinton Church entirely. From your brief time with Father Lantom, and from what Matt had always said about him, he sounded like an amazing man. What had happened to him–whatever it was that had someone attacking a church –had been absolutely horrible. 

But you knew there was a wake being held at Foggy’s family's butcher shop nearby from the announcement you had read in the paper. You hadn't spoken to Foggy or Karen in almost a week now, but you figured you'd end up at least running into one of them there. As you neared the shop, you wondered if they'd continue to ignore you like they'd been doing for weeks now. 

Their silence had only opened a new wound for you, causing you even more pain in Matt's absence. You'd ended up growing closer to Adam over the weeks since they’d been avoiding you because of it, often spending a few evenings a week together. He didn't have answers for why your friends had been ghosting you and cutting you out of their life, but he at least offered the much needed comfort you'd been craving for months. 

Outside of Nelson's, you spotted a few people lingering on the sidewalk talking in small groups. They were dressed in all black and had clearly just come from the mass for Father Lantom at the church. You slipped around a group outside, offering a soft apology as you reached for the door handle beside them. Pulling it open, you stepped inside and immediately side-stepped out of the way of a couple who sent you friendly smiles. As your eyes scanned the busy shop around you, you eventually spotted Karen and Foggy at a table nearby with drinks in their hands laughing with–

Eyes going wide, you swore your heart entirely stopped beating in your chest. You couldn't breathe. Even your brain felt like it hit reset at the sight before you.

Foggy and Karen had been sitting at the table laughing and having drinks with Matt as if he hadn't been missing and believed dead for the past few months. 

Entirely frozen on the spot, all you could do for a moment was stare in shock at Matt laughing at something Karen had said. Mouth dropping open, you watched as all three of them raised their glasses as if in a toast before clinking them together. 

That's when the tears came. Watching all three of them sitting there as if they'd known Matt had been alive for longer than five minutes. As if they were celebrating something. 

And you'd been entirely left out of whatever it all was. 

Heart beating harder in your chest, a small, strangled whimper fell out of you. At the table, Matt's head immediately darted in your direction, the smile falling from his lips as his focus landed on you. Karen and Foggy’s attention soon turned towards you next, curious as to what had caught Matt's attention. Abruptly you turned and pushed the door to the shop open, hurrying out onto the sidewalk.

Throwing a hand over your mouth, you felt the tears steadily falling as you darted away from the building. You ignored the groups of people outside curiously eyeing you as your breath came in fast and sharp. Vaguely you heard Foggy calling your name as you briskly walked down the sidewalk and headed away from Nelson's. Your pace didn't slow as he continued to call after you.

Matt was alive.

Matt was alive .

You had been right. All this time and you'd been right. But why the hell had Karen and Foggy been so adamant about him being dead–wanting you to let him go–when they knew he wasn't? How long had they known and not told you? How long had they known and just continued to let you grieve? To let you keep paying for his apartment? To keep scouring the news about the man in the mask? They’d been telling you it wasn’t Matt despite you noticing the strange fake Daredevil in the news in relation to Fisk’s prison release. They’d made you feel like you’d been going crazy.

And why had Matt not let you know he was alive? Why had he let you continue on thinking he was dead but not Foggy and Karen?

Did you mean so little to him?

Foggy’s voice loudly shouting your name broke through your thoughts and you stopped, spinning on the spot towards him as your tears continued to fall. Foggy caught up to you quickly, his own face filled with guilt and shame. Behind him, you could see Karen escorting Matt, the pair of them rapidly nearing where you'd both come to a stop.

"How long?" you asked Foggy, voice cracking. "How long did you know?"

Foggy winced at the question, his face growing even more solemn. "A few weeks now," he answered softly. 

Your eyebrows rose up onto your forehead, eyes once again widening. Mouth opening and closing for a moment, you tried hard to search for words. 

"You–you knew?" you breathed out. "You knew for weeks? And you just didn't tell me he wasn't dead?" 

"I wanted to!" Foggy replied in a rush. "Believe me, I did! But it wasn't safe for you to know!"

"Are you–" you paused, pinching the bridge of your nose as a multitude of emotions fought to rise to the surface. Anger and relief were fighting at the forefront. "I don't fucking care if it wasn't safe!" you eventually roared at the three of them, Karen and Matt stopping beside Foggy now. "You let me think he was dead for weeks when you knew he wasn't! You both ignored me for weeks!" you yelled, fresh, hot tears rolling down your cheeks. "Left me to grieve the loss of Matt and my friendship with the both of you on top of it!"

"I–"

"No!" you raged at Foggy. "Do you know how much that fucking hurt? To feel like I’d lost all of you? And then I come here and see you all just laughing and having fucking drinks and I'm still in the dark about everything ?"

"We were going to tell you today!" Karen cut in quickly, her voice catching your attention. "We were dealing with Fisk’s release. That was why we knew Matt was back–and he had been a very closed off asshole, too, for the record,” she told you, Matt frowning deeper beside her. “But we were trying to keep Fisk from learning that you were connected to any of us. To keep you safe from him." 

"What?" you asked her.

"Fisk wanted revenge," Matt said.

Your eyes flew directly to him. His voice, after months of wondering if you'd ever hear it again, managed to slightly calm you. For a moment your eyes took in the sight of him standing there–something else you’d thought would never happen again. He was wearing one of his nice suits and his usual red glasses, which meant he must have stopped by his apartment at some point. The one you’d been paying the bills for him for. There were a few cuts bandaged along his face and his knuckles looked torn and bruised, but he was alive. 

He was alive.

“He tried to kill me when he realized I wasn’t dead,” Matt explained. “Tried even harder when he learned who I was. He was trying to go after Foggy, too–which was why he ran for the D.A. position, to make him more of a public figure. And he went after Karen.”

“The Bulletin?” you asked, eyes darting to Karen. “That was…?”

Karen nodded. “And what happened at Clinton,” she told you.

“It wasn’t safe,” Matt said, taking another step towards you. “I only told Foggy because I wanted him and Karen to let me handle Fisk. But he didn’t listen to me and told Karen.”

“Because she was in danger and needed to know,” Foggy snapped at Matt.

Matt’s mouth twitched at Foggy’s words but he didn’t respond to him. Instead he kept his focus on you as he spoke.

“But you weren’t a part of Nelson and Murdock,” he continued, shaking his head. “Fisk never knew who you were. I wanted to keep it that way. Initially I wanted to let you all think Matt Murdock had died so I could go out and be Daredevil without worrying about putting any of you in any more danger. But…” he trailed off, sighing as his shoulders dropped. “I couldn’t do it. I–I need you all. As my friends. To keep me from losing myself to that other part of myself.”

Wiping the heels of your palms over your cheeks, you tried to wipe away the tears. A few were still falling as you stood there. Admittedly you were still pissed–at all of them. Karen and Foggy for keeping his secret even if it was to keep you safe, and you were pissed at Matt for letting you spend months wondering if he was dead or not. 

“I’m sorry,” Matt said softly.

“I’m sorry, too,” Foggy added quickly. “I didn’t want to lie to you. I hated every second of it. You have to know that.”

Swallowing hard, your eyes flew over to Karen when she spoke up.

“I didn’t want to lie to you either,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, too. We really were going to tell you today. After Father Lantom’s wake. We just wanted to make sure the threat of Fisk had passed first.”

“This isn’t how I wanted you to find out,” Matt assured you.

Foggy’s arms raised, opening wide towards you as he shot you a hopeful look. “Can you forgive me, bestie?” he asked. “Hug it out?”

Chewing your lip, you took a step backwards. Collectively all three of their faces dropped at the gesture. Slowly, Foggy’s arms lowered to his sides.

“I just–just need a bit to process this,” you muttered. “I can try to understand why you did it but–but it still hurts.”

Both Foggy and Karen nodded, but between them, Matt’s frown somehow continued to deepen. Your eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, committing the sight of him alive and breathing to your memory before you turned and made your way back down the sidewalk. You wanted to go home and cry before you tried to make sense of all of this. It didn’t help that your body’s reaction was confusing you. You were overjoyed and grateful, but also incredibly pissed and deeply hurt. You wanted to scream at Matt but you also wanted to hug him and never let him go.

You’d barely made it a few steps before something had latched on to your wrist and you froze, head turning to glance down at what it was. Matt’s large and battered hand was encircling it firmly, clearly not about to let you go. Pressing your lips tight together, you tried hard to refrain from crying as your gaze slowly made its way up to his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. After that building fell on me and I somehow still woke up alive…I’d lost almost all of my senses. I was in a dark place. And when my senses came back, Fisk had been released and I found myself in an even darker place.” He sent you a sad, apologetic smile. “I didn’t want to lie to you. Didn’t want you to keep believing I was dead. I swear I didn’t. It was just to keep you safe.” 

Your watery gaze tried to focus on Matt’s eyes behind the red lenses. You could feel the tears once again getting ready to spill over in your own eyes.

“I visited Clinton Church every day for weeks after you disappeared, Matt,” you admitted softly.

“I know,” he whispered, that sad smile still on his lips. “I was recovering in the church’s basement that whole time.”

You winced at his words. He’d known? He’d known you’d been there crying over him all this time? Day after day praying he’d come back to you? And he’d been there this whole time? Fresh hurt and anger burned in your veins, another wave of tears spilling out of you.

“You knew that too?” you breathed out. “You were right there and never said anything?”

He nodded slowly, shame and guilt written across his features. As the tears fell yet again, you finally gave in to the mix of emotions fighting inside of you to reach the surface. Your hand slipped out of Matt’s hold before you reached out and pushed against his chest roughly. For a moment he looked taken by surprise at the gesture, but his surprise quickly vanished as he stood there and allowed one of your fists to weakly slam onto his chest.

“Fuck you, Matt,” you cried out in a broken voice. “Fuck you for making me go through that knowing how hard it was on me.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his own voice breaking.

Your fist slammed onto his chest again. “Fuck you for hurting me like that,” you continued. “For making Foggy and Karen hurt me like that.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“How could you?” you wailed. “I thought I mattered to you!”

Matt’s hands were on your shoulders, gripping them firmly as he tried to pull you towards him. You tried to shake him off, struggling against his hold, but he only held on tighter as your fist slammed down onto his chest again, tears endlessly streaming from your eyes.

“You do matter,” he croaked out. “More than you know. You do matter.”

“Fuck you,” you sobbed, your fingers grasping onto the lapels of his suit coat. “Fuck you, Matt.”

Matt’s hands released their hold on you, his arms swiftly wrapping around your shoulders as he drew you into himself. You didn’t fight him this time, burying your face into his dress shirt and tie and letting yourself break down against him. Relief and heartache and love and anger all poured out of you simultaneously as you clung to him, your body shaking with your sobs. Matt had buried his face against the top of your head, clearly crying himself as he clung to you just as tight. You could feel his tears dampening your hair and hear the muffled sounds of his own choked sobs filling your ears. 

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” you begged, shaking your head against his chest. “Don’t make me go through that again.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “I won’t ever leave you again.”

[END NOTES]

I'm leaving end notes this time because I feel like they're needed (but if you read my fics over on AO3 I always give quite detailed end notes that I don't usually share on tumblr because it's just extra time I don't have trying to get two posts together).

So much happened in this installment though because we practically sprinted through season 3! This fic isn't meant to delve into that season though, but I wanted to include the angst of it in here (don't worry, I have another angsty fic planned for season 3 for another day). Reader was clearly struggling with the loss/absence of Matt for the months he'd been gone in this one. She was also the one paying for his apartment and his bills because she didn't believe he was dead. But she was also the last one to know he was alive--hence the title of this installment! And shit did that hurt when she didn't know why Foggy and Karen were pushing her away for weeks, which only led her back to the attractive vet tech, Adam (in case you didn't catch that). And then she didn't find out Matt was alive until she saw him at Father Lantom's wake at the Nelson's butcher shop. Despite being able to understand why they kept her in the dark, she's still pretty hurt and pissed. Especially at Matt. But clearly, Reader will never stop loving Matt.

I have a couple more angsty things up my sleeves that are getting closer to punching you in the gut next, so be prepared, friends! The angst isn't over even if the confession of feelings draws nearer... I currently don't have a title name to tease for the next installment yet either because this almost 7k beast of an installment took up all my brain space for two days, but I'll share a post about it when I do.

Feel free to scream at me now 🙃

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫 • 𝐉𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦

💌𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Someone give me a plot where muse a happens to be someone famous (actor, athlete, etc) who has a bad reputation. Enters muse b who is a pr manager, who got hired to deal with them. The two gets off on the wrong foot, but thing is they’re stuck with each other until muse b’s contract end. They’re forced to be around one another and even have to share the same room in the hotel as they travel. One thing leads to the other and they begin developing feelings for one another. Muse a then finds out some horrible life changing news and cuts all ties with muse b, even getting them fired. However, one night muse b gets drunk and calls muse a telling them how much they miss them.

🏷️𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.8k(I'm sick)

🏷️𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst

🏷️𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Jude hates reader, a blonde in this, some guy named Jeff. Denise is apart of this

🏷️𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Jude Bellingham x PR manager reader

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this took way to long to write lol enjoy

Jude Bellingham Masterlist

⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

Jude was a messy man.

He knew it. Everyone knew it and his team especially knew it.

After joining real Madrid Jude fame grew over night. Score after score he became one of the best players of this generation. With that came lots of girls which also came lots of gossip.

None of it was good for the young footballer. He had years ahead of him and needed to keep it all clean.

Luckily for Jude his team came up with a solution. They’re going to hire you.

You’re a pr manager. You were young and fresh into your career but nonetheless good at what you do. It was only fitting that they hired you to help keep Jude’s imagine clean before something happened.

Reader pov

I typed away at your computer, answering whatever email that came through. Today was the day I was meeting Jude to discuss my job with him. Nerves took over me, it wasn’t every day I met a famous footballer. Before this I only worked with smaller celebrities, never anyone big like him so I was nervous.

A knock at the door snapped me out of my typing. I cleared my throat before speaking.

“Come in please.”

The door swung open slowly revealing jude. The 6ft man walked into my office without uttering a word. He looked upset about something, but still butterflies filled my stomach for some odd reason.

“um.. sit please.” I pointed to the chair sitting across from me Jude did as I asked and sat down in the chair.

“so what are we doing?” he asked in a plain tone. I frowned. We’re not off to a good start it seems.

“hello to you too Mr. Bellingham.” I meet his brown eyes. “I was going to shake your hand, but it seems like we’ve already got to the point. I’m y/n and I’m your PR manager.”

“why do I need a PR manager? I can manage myself.” He said with a loud exhale. I swear I saw him roll his eyes at me, but I ignored it.

“ Mr. Bellingh-“

“stop calling me that. Call me Jude.” He snapped stopping me.

I put on a fake smile. I was getting frustrated with him and we haven’t even been talking for 5 minutes.

“Ok Jude, the reason I’m your PR manager is because you’re messy. You sleep with plenty of girls and they run to gossip blogs for their 5 minutes of fame and it’s ruining your image.”

I sat back in my chair, throwing the pencil on the table.

“Now if you don’t want me to help you keep your image clean then too bad because you’re stuck with me for 2 years due to a contract.”

Jude looked at me. His jaw clenched meaning I got under his skin. Good. If he wants to be an asshole than so will I. Two can play this game.

“fine. Are we done here?” clearly he was ready for this to be over and so did I to be honest.

“Yes, we are. It was nice to meet you. Have a good day.”

I picked up my pencil back up and began writing. Jude sucked his teeth and got up. He walked out of the room slamming the door a little bit. I rolled my eyes. He was going to be hell.

Jude’s pov

I hate her guts. I don’t know why my team even hired her. She was bitchy, something I didn’t like. I didn’t need anyone to keep my image clean. Quite frankly I was doing fine so what was the purpose of her.

I walked out of the building to the car where my mom sat. She noticed the shift in my mood the second I got in.

“how did it go?”

“I don’t like her.” I mumbled as I put on my seatbelt.

“why don’t you like her?” she asked as she put the car in drive. I sighed. “I don’t know. I’m just not feeling her vibe.”

She hummed and I looked at her. “maybe you’ll warm up to her.”

I doubt it.

Reader pov

Today was my first day working with Jude. I dreaded this. After how our first meeting went I wasn’t ready to deal with his sass.

I was going to the ballon d’or with him. I had to make sure he didn’t answer anything weird or meet up with anyone. Anyone being girls.

Under the request of Jude’s other team members I would be flying with him on a private jet.

I wasn’t too happy about this. If I could I would fly commercial, but I needed to act like I loved this.

I arrived at the airport way before everyone else did. As always my attention was very much on my laptop answering emails.

“You’re here early.” I heard behind me. I turned around to see Jude standing there, but not by himself, but with another woman who looked exactly like him.

“yes I am.” I shut my laptop and stood up. “its nice to meet you. I’m y/n.”

I stuck my hand out to the woman. She smiled and shook it. Finally someone nice.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Denise.” I smiled back at her. “ok the plane will be here in 20 minutes.” I say. I pick up my laptop sticking it in my laptop bag.

Those 20 minutes went by fast and before I knew it we were on the plane. I sat in the back and struck up a conversation with Denise. O I could feel Jude’s pissed off energy as I spoke with her, but that didn’t stop my conversation.

Jude’s pov

I hate watching her talk to my mom. Ever since we got on the plane they’ve been talking about something and I hated it. Hearing her laugh pissed me off and so did her voice.

I turned to my phone trying to block out their conversation, but her laughter cut through. I’m already sick of her and we haven’t even known each other for that long.

Eventually the plane landed and we were finally getting off. I was the first off and into the car that was going to drive us to the hotel. Later y/n and my mom climbed in.

The car ride was silent up until y/n spoke. “um so since we’re only getting two hotels, Denise and mark are of course sharing one and me and you Jude are sharing.”

I felt my blood boil when I heard what she said. Could this week get any worse.

“what? I’m not sharing a room with you. I’ll buy you your own room, I’m not sharing with you.” she was about to say something until my mom spoke.

“Jude, you’re sharing a room with her and that’s final. I don’t want to hear anymore complaining from you.”

I ran my hand down my face and sighed. “fine.”

Great now she has my mom taking her side. I swear I could see y/n smirking out the corner of my eyes which made it worse. Can’t wait for this to be over.

Y/n pov

Once we reached the hotel room Jude was off. I suspected it was because he was embarrassed after his mom yelled at him.

I grabbed a room key and made my way to the room where I will be staying with Jude.

When I unlocked the door I was faced with Jude.

His hands were on his hips as he stared at the bed. The bed!

There was only one fucking bed.

I dropped my bags as the door clicked behind me.

“this day of course can get worse. Not only am I sharing a room with you, I’m sharing a bed as well.” Jude mumbled.

He muttered a few curse words after and sat down in the chair in the corner of the room.

“I can go see if they can get us a two bed room.”

I turned around ready to leave, but Jude stopped me.

“don’t bother. This hotel is packed. There won’t be any rooms left.”

“ok.” I sighed. “Well I’ll try not to take to much space up. I’m small anyways.”

Jude didn’t say a word to me so I took this as a sign to not say anything else. It was late at night so I got myself ready for sleep. Getting my clothes, taking a quick shower and climbing in bed all while acting as if Jude doesn’t exist.

Jude entered the bathroom once I climbed under the covers. Sleep over took me before I got a chance to watch him come out.

The next day I woke up to my alarm.

I groaned, reaching over to the nightstand to turn it off. I was about to get up until I felt an arm around me. Pushing back the covers I looked at it.

It was Jude’s of course.

I turned around to see Jude passed out, Mouth open slightly. He was sleeping peacefully, but I refuse to let a jackass have a day of peace.

“get up! Balloon d’or day!”

I slapped his cheeks and he woke up with a jerk. I removed his arm from me climbing out of bed. I said nothing about the incident, but I’m sure he knows.

Jude’s pov

I can’t believe my arms were wrapped around y/n as I woke up. I swear I was on the other side of the bed when I went to sleep, but subconsciously I must have wrapped myself around her over the night.

I got up to get myself ready. Today was a special day: it was balloon d’or day.

Me and y/n traded places in the bathroom and that was the last time. I didn’t see her again till it was time to go to the awards.

“Are we ready to go?” she asked me but my attention wasn’t on her words. It was on her figure. She stood there in front of me in a black dress with light makeup. It was obvious she was trying not to stand out, but I couldn’t deny she looked stunning.

“jude.” She called out my name and I looked at her face that had a frown on it. “are you ready?”

I nodded. “yeah” I cleared my throat. “ I’m ready.”

She smiled awkwardly and turned around to walk out the hotel room. I sighed knowing she caught me staring.

Y/n pov

I caught Jude looking at me earlier and those butterflies filled my stomach as he did so. I hated my body for reacting like that.

I pushed it to the back of my mind . When we got the d’or ceremony Jude took some pictures for the ceremony. When he finished we made our way inside and separated for the rest of the evening.

Jude won a kopa trophy. I was happy for him no doubt. I let him know when we returned back to our shared hotel room.

“ congratulations.”

Jude sat his kopa on the desk in the room. “thanks.” He gave me a soft smile before pulling off his suit coat.

I sat down on the bed with a sigh, pulling off my heels. When they finally off I climbed back and laid on the perfectly made bed and shut my eyes.

I can hear Jude moving around the room, but I ignored him.

In the middle of me shutting my eyes I fell into a slumber. I didn’t realize until I felt someone shaking me.

I groaned, opening my eyes. It was Jude.

“what?”

“you can’t sleep on top of the blanket you know that right?” Jude said in an annoyed tone.

I sat up. “you don’t have to be an asshole about it.” I got up and pulled the blanket back as I heard Jude, who’s back is facing me, suck his teeth. I got under the blanket, still in my dress but I didn’t care. I was too tired to care.

Jude walked to his side of the bed. He was only wearing boxers, no shirt unlike last night. “where’s your shirt?”

Jude pulled back the cover and got under.

“Why are you worrying about it?”

It was now my turn to suck my teeth. I laid down turning my back to him and drifted off to sleep, ready for this day to be over.

Jude pov

I woke up this morning feeling great. Last night I won my kopa and I couldn’t be more excited about that.

I stretched ready to get up, but something heavy on my chest stopped me. I looked down to see y/n laying on my chest.

This is the second time we ended up tangled in each other arms. I couldn’t lie I love having someone cuddling up to me in the morning, but knowing it was y/n pissed me off despite my heart fluttering in my chest.

I shook y/n. “wake up.”

y/n opened her eyes. She looked over at absolutely disgusted. It took everything in me not to laugh at her face.

“time to get up. We got a flight back to Madrid.” I got up to go to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I got out of the bathroom y/n was now up. She was in absolutely nothing seeing how her dress was now pooled on the floor.

Her back was facing me but that didn’t stop me from tearing my eyes away from her.

“Fuck y/n. At least tell me you’re changing.”

“sorry. That’s what happens when you share a room.” She mumbled as I Heard clothes being thrown around.

A brief moment of silence fell between the two of us before y/n spoke.

“you can look now Jude.”

Turning around she was now in some jeans and a shirt. A smirk painted her face making me roll my eyes and go back to what I was doing so we could leave sooner.

--

A few days have passed since we returned to Madrid. I went back to training and Y/n went back to working in her office where she said she wouldn’t bother me.

I was relieved. Tonight I was going to make the most of it.

I found myself inside the sweaty club with a drink in my hand. Several girls have already came up to me begging for my attention. I made small talk to be polite, but I didn’t give them much. They were gold digging and trying to sleep with me more than anything.

I’m not sure what’s gotten into me. Any other time I’d be excited to talk to a bunch of girls but not today.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in my system, but I couldn’t stop thinking about y/n.

Her tan skin, soft lips, and pretty eyes filled my head. I stared at her so much that every little detail about her was burned into my mind. She was like a fog I couldn’t clear from my head. I didn’t really hate her if I’m being completely honest. I was just an asshole the first day we met and haven’t changed because in my mom words I was stubborn.

As I sat staring off into space a girl came up and sat next to me. She was blonde, thin and had an ok face. She was ok looking, but I knew I wasn’t interested in her right away.

“How are you?” she asked, her flirty tone and toothy smile making me cringe. “ I’m good.” I brought my drink to my lips and drunk the rest of it. I hated that it was empty because I needed more.

For the next 15 minutes the girl tried to make conversation with me. It was clear she was trying to get in my pants. After a bit I was tired of listening to her. Without a word I got up and walked away. The blonde followed me making me roll my eyes. “where are you going?”

“ I’m going home.” I answered plainly. I stopped outside the club pulling out my phone ready to call a friend to pick me up.

I felt the girl hand trail up my arm. I looked at her with a disgusted look on my face. She really didn’t give up.

“I’m not interested darling. You can stop trying.”

She sighed, dropping her hand and rolling her eyes. “Fine, but you don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

She walked away with a dramatic stomp. I couldn’t help but laugh at how stupid it looked.

-

Y/n pov

My phone going off woke me from my beautiful slumber. I groaned reaching over and picking it up.

“hello?”

“y/n, it’s Jude.”

I sat up rubbing my eyes. “what do you want Bellingham?”

There was a brief silence on the other end before Jude spoke. “yesterday I went out to the club and a girl was trying to get my attention, but I wouldn’t let her. Moral of the story is someone took a picture of me and her and now its all over the internet.”

When Jude finished I groan. “oh my God. Ok I’m on it give me a few hours.”

I hung up the phone getting to work.

After two hours I did everything I could. Getting some of the pictures taken down and an article out stating he didn’t know that girl and left Alone that night.

The next time my phone rung it was of course Jude.

“yes Bellingham?”

“thank you for that. I didn’t think you were going to be able to do much.”

I scuffed. “I feel insulted that you think I wouldn’t be able to do anything. It’s my job, I’ll find a way.”

I heard Jude laugh on the other end making me smile.

“anything else you need Bellingham?” I asked. My voice softer than ever.

“yeah.” “what would that be?”

“call me Jude, darling.”

I felt butterflies fill my stomach at the name he gave me. “ok Jude.”

Jude POV

I feel good today. The day before, y/n fixed an issue I had. I don’t know why I thought I didn’t need a PR manager because I totally do.

We had a match today and I thought I’d repay her by inviting her to the game.

“you’re wearing my jersey?” I asked when I walked up to y/n and my mom. She turned around.

“Yeah.” She looked down at it “I was planning on wearing the other teams jersey, but I decided to be nice since you invited me.”

I rolled my eyes making her laugh. After greeting my mom I said my goodbyes and went to go get ready to play.

An hour later I was on the pitch chasing the ball. 50 minutes or so nothing went on until I somehow found the ball in the back of the net.

The crowd interrupted into a cheer, I ran to the edge of the field throwing my arms wide to celebrate, soaking in the love I was receiving.

When the game ended the team went to applauded the crowd. I found myself finding my mom in the stands. I waved to her earning a wave back. I see y/n standing there smiling at our interaction. I smiled seeing her standing there with my mom. She just fits there.

After the game I was reunited with them. I offered y/n to come with us to dinner but she passed up on it saying she had work to finish, so here me and my mom are on our way my ourselves.

“you like her don’t you?”

My mom asked out of nowhere in the car.

“what?” “I see the way you look at her, you like her.”

“I don’t.” I scrunched up my face. My mom laughed. “sure.”

Maybe she was right. The past few days a lot changed. The feelings I had for her was confusing. I never felt this way for anyone. This must be what liking someone felt like. Boy was I scared.

-

After dinner I made my way home. I was exhausted and ready to go to sleep.

When I got in bed I grabbed my phone and logged into Twitter. The first thing I see is a post about y/n. Everyone asking who she was. Lots of people speculated that she was my girlfriend and many said she was no one which isn’t exactly a lie.

I didn’t expect this to happen, but I hoped when she woke up the next morning she would fix it.

Y/n POV

I woke up to my notifications going off. Great what could it be this time I thought to myself.

I grabbed my phone to see what seemed like a million request to my Instagram. “what the fuck!”

I opened my phone to see why this was. The first thing I notice is a text from Jude.

I’m sorry  please be able to fix it

I’m confused so I opened Twitter. My face was plastered all over the app. It was because of yesterday’s game. They thought I was Jude’s girlfriend.

I cursed and pulled back the blanket hoping I could fix this before it got worse.

After an hour I couldn’t fix it. It was clear the damage was already done. I sat defeated. This was the worse thing that could happen to me. Not only did people know who I was but I was being harassed because they thought I was Jude’s girlfriend.

My phone rung, but I couldn’t bring myself to pick it up.. not right now.

I didn’t know what I was going to do. With my job being me following Jude around I knew this wouldn’t go well. His fangirls would always think we’re dating and will harass me. I knew I couldn’t work with Jude anymore for my sanity.

Jude POV

I tried to call y/n, but she didn’t pick up. She saw my text which meant she knew what was going on.

I feel bad. All I wanted was to repay her for fixing my problem, but ended up with an even bigger problem. If she’s pissed at me I wouldn’t be mad about it.

A few hours passed and y/n still hasn’t called or picked up any of my calls. I grew worried. I tried calling my other team members to see what they knew what was going on.

“jude?” my team member Jeff said what he picked up. Before I could say anything else he spoke before me.

“y/n quit.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. “what?”

“yeah she said she didn’t want to make your career worse. I tried to make her stay, but it didn’t work.”

I shook my head, pitching the bridge of my nose.

I hung up the phone and tried to calling y/n again. When she didn’t pick up I texted her, but still it was no use.

“fuck!”

I threw my phone on the bed beside me.

“What’s wrong Jude?” my mom voice filled my ears. I didn’t look up at her. I just spoke. “y/n quit.”

“oh honey I’m sorry. Was it because of yesterday?”

I nodded. “yeah. Everyone thought we were dating. I thought she’ll be able to fix it, but she couldn’t. Now she won’t pick up my calls.”

“give her some time.” I looked up at my mom. “she might need some time right now. It’s all a lot.”

She was right so that’s what I did.

A few days have passed since I last talk to y/n. I missed her badly I couldn’t lie. I can’t believe someone I hated so badly at first, I was now missing.

-

My friends invited me to the club tonight to clear my mind. I had several drinks with the intention of getting wasted and it worked. An hour later and I was drunk.

Of course the person who clouds my mind happens to be y/n. I missed her, kind of yearned for her. I miss annoying her. I needed to get her back.

I pulled out my phone finding y/n name in my contacts. The phone rung 2 times before y/n picked up.

“y/n?” I slurred out.

Y/n POV

The song of booming music on the other end of the call made me wince. “Jude, why are you calling me? Where are you?”

This was the first time I answered Jude’s call in two weeks and I didn’t expect it to be loud on the other end.

“y/n, I miss you.” I heard Jude say on the other end.

“Jude are you drunk?”

The sound of a woman voice and Jude shouting out no over the music flooded through the phone. A minute passed before it was quiet on the other side. He must be outside now I thought.

“sorry it was loud.”

“Jude where are you?” I grew concerned. He sounded extremely intoxicated and I’m sure he wasn’t aware of shit when he was drunk. “ I’m going to pick you up.”

I grabbed my keys and after Jude told me his location I drove there. 10 minutes later I spotted him outside the club.

A bunch of girls surrounded him making me roll my eyes. I Parked my car and got out.

“jude.” At the sound of my voice Jude turned to me. “sorry ladies. My ride is here.”

Those girls watched as Jude quickly walked away to my car, getting into the passenger seat. I got back into the driver’s seat and drove off before anyone could get a picture.

“Why’d you pick me up?” Jude asked as he laid back against the seat. “I just wanted to make sure you got back safely, that’s all.”

Jude turned his head looking at me. My breath hitched, but I didn’t look over at him.

“I said I missed you.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “I know I heard you.”

“why did you leave y/n?”

I sighed. “Jude, we’re at your house.” I parked the car expecting him to get out.

“y/n, talk to me baby.” Jude turned my face with his thumb forcing me to look his way. My stomach interrupted in butterflies at his action and words.

“I left because I don’t want to ruin your career and mines. I have to follow everywhere and that means those fan girls would think I’m dating you and I’m going to get harassed every time. I’m not ready for. They already found my Instagram and started dming me telling me I’m ugly.” I ran my hand over my face. “so yeah that’s why I left.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Jude commented.

“Its ok-“

“no it’s not. I should have thought about this before inviting you. I knew my fans were cry but I didn’t expect them to find you so I’m sorry.”

“I know you are Jude and it’s ok. I promise.” I looked at Jude and smiled softly.

“You’re going to come back right?”

I laughed. “is that what you want so badly?”

Jude nodded. “more than anything.”

“Ok fine. I’ll see if I can comeback.”

Jude smiled. “perfect. thank you for the ride by the way. I’m happy to see you again.”

Jude hugged me once he unbuckled his seatbelt. If this was the first few days of meeting Jude I would have pulled away from him, but it wasn’t. I found myself wrapping my arms around him shocking myself.

When Jude pulled away his face was inches away from mine. His eyes fell to my lips. My heart thumped in my chest at the action.

“Can I kiss you?” Jude asked at a whispered. I nodded slightly.

Jude kissed me seconds later and I swear my heart stopped in my chest for a second.

His lips so soft and his tongue even softer when he slipped It into my mouth chasing mine.

He pulled away and kissed my cheek.

“ok I’m going to go now.” Jude pulled away and opened the door as I sat their flustered.

“have a good night love.” Jude Shut the door walking to his house. I exhaled.

“good night Jude.”

--

Tell me what else to write since I don't have ideas for some reason. Jude, Dominik, Trent, Ruben, and kylian

[itaehynz]

a night to remember.

pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader.

genre: (mdni) smut, slight fluff, pwp (?)

warnings: subby!soobin, oral (m. receiving), nipple play (reader receiving), soobin’s obsessed w tits per usual, riding, talks of shaving, breeding kink, overstimulation, hair pulling, praise kink, mommy kink, public sex (kinda?), unprotected sex (do NOT do this.) lmk if i missed any!

summary: soobin hasn’t seen you in months. but after tiring days of work, late night practices and tons of all nighters, another successful tour finished. what better way to gift him than showing up at his afterparty & leaving him with a night to remember?

notes: this is my partaking in @napofamoon’s growing pain collaboration! this is also my comeback post and way to bring in the new year, i hope you guys enjoy it! happy reading & happy new year’s, blessings and love to all. ^^

“so baby, are you gonna make it to the afterparty? i know you have work to do so i just wanted to make sure,” soobin asks with a gentle tone.

“yes my love, i’ll be there so there’s no need to worry about it.” you respond, typing away at your computer.

you hear soobin hum on the other end before sighing softly, “i’ve missed you so much.” he says with a soft, pleading tone. you smile softly at his tone thinking of how else his tone would come in handy.

“i’ve missed you so much more bin, it’s been so lonely without you love,” you pout, hearing soobin chuckle quietly on the other end.

“do you mean it’s been quiet without me?” he asks with a hint of sarcasm in his response.

you roll your eyes at that, “yes that too, it’s been nice not hearing you yell every other minute because gyu wouldn’t cover you in the game i guess.” you add, thinking back to all those times soobin has interrupted your wonderful moments of sleep with him yelling at beomgyu on his video game.

“hm, that’s what i thought,” he says snarkily. you both giggle at the unpleasant memories before soobin sighs heavily.

“i have to go, gotta go back on stage for our encore show. which means it’s time you should be getting for the afterparty, i wanna see how pretty you’re gonna look.” you smile at that, looking over at the dress that’s hanging on your closet door. newly bought, picked out just for soobin to see you in.

“i suppose you’re right, i already have my outfit ready anyways.” you breathe out, rubbing your lips in thought of soobin’s reaction to your dress.

“i’m sure i’ll love it & i can’t wait to see you in it, see you soon pretty!” he says before hanging up, which leaves you to wonder what shenanigans you two will get into due to this dress.

you plug your phone up, deciding to let it charge while you get ready. so many thoughts on how this night that awaits you could go, after almost four months of not being able to see soobin due to his tour.

shunning these thoughts away, you decide to just go get ready and let the wind take you wherever it wants.

you begin to rise from your bed, stripping yourself of your clothes and reaching for your towel. as you wrap yourself in the fabric, you walk to the bathroom turning on the shower and playing music before stepping in.

you carefully step under the warm water, running your washcloth, which is lathered in soap, over your dripping body. you scrub every part of your body with precision, making sure to get every crevice of your body. after washing yourself once, you grab your shaving tools to begin your “everything shower” routine.

you shave every inch of hair off of your body, brush your teeth, wash your hair and begin to wash your body once again. after doing so, you do a twirl under your shower head to make sure every bit of soap is rinsed off your skin.

after showering for what has been over 45 minutes, you turn off the shower and begin stepping out of the foggy bathroom with your towel wrapped around your body and an extra one wrapped around your head.

as soon as you step back into your room, your phone begins ringing.

you walk over to your charging phone to see who’s calling, reading “my bunny 🤍🐰” on the screen, automatically smiling before picking up the call.

“hello?” you say into your phone, “hi pretty! i tried calling you but stopped awhile ago assuming you were getting ready, are you?” you hear soobin say on the other end, his words shaky with heavy breaths added to them.

you chuckle lightly, “yes soob, i’m still getting ready. is it okay if i call you back later? y’know, when i’m on my way there?”

“hmm, yeah that’s okay! i’ll talk to you later then, bye babe!” he says, awaiting your answer.

“bye pretty boy, talk to you later.” you say before hanging up and laying your phone back down on your bedside table. you decide to sit down on your bed as you begin to moisturize yourself, reaching every crevice making sure to leave no trace of dryness on your skin.

once you’re done doing so, you walk over to your closet reaching for your black dress. the dress in sight has a long slit at the thigh which will reveal almost your entire thigh and an open space from your shoulder to just under your sternum. the dress shows skin in all the right places, leaving little room for the imagination.

you take the dress off the hanger it was on, stepping into it slowly. you pull the fabric over your shoulders, walking in front of your mirror to see how it looks on you.

it brings out your curves well, fits you perfectly and makes you feel and look good. you smile to yourself, thinking about how soobin will react once he sees it. walking back over to your bed, you step into your strappy black heels tightening the strap in back.

once you finish getting all dolled up, you grab a small bag and your casual black jean jacket to finish off your outfit. walking over to your mirror, you finally let down your hair which you had tied up beforehand.

putting on a bit of mascara and eyeliner, you pucker your lips and add the finishing touch: lip gloss. you mess with your hair a bit and finally order an uber, which says 5 minutes. you begin walking to your front door, picking up your keys and turning off all of your lights.

you quickly walk out your front door, locking it behind you and hurriedly rush to the elevator making it downstairs before your uber leaves you.

after getting in your uber, you call soobin. he picks up almost immediately and you hear loud music playing in the background of his location, “hi baby!” he says loudly making sure you can hear him over the music, “are you on your way here?” you wince slightly at the sound of him practically screaming in your ear.

“yes bin, i’m on my way i’ll see you in a bit okay?” you say as you hear soobin laughing on the other end, “okay babe, see you!” he says before hanging up.

you put your phone in your purse and allow yourself a few minutes of silence before arriving at the club the afterparty is located. you’re excited, excited for the night that awaits you. but you’re also nervous, nervous for soobin’s reaction to your outfit… you know he’ll like it (a lot) but you’re still nervous. you brush the thought to the back of your mind and proceed with your night, let’s do this.

-

you step into the club, immediately looking around for soobin. once you find him, you walk past him acting as if you can’t see him to see if one of his members will point you out to him. as you do that, you see a mutual friend of you guys’, yunjin. you walk up to her, thankfully she’s not far from soobin & his members.

as you begin chatting it up with her, you suddenly decide to take off your jacket and hold it on your arm. after doing that, you suddenly feel a few pairs of eyes on you and hear yeonjun say something.

“woah, soob isn’t that y/n? she looks really nice,” yeonjun says tapping soobin’s shoulder and pointing to you. soobin looks over and his eyes widen at your not-so-sudden appearance next to yunjin.

you’re laughing with her, laughing ever so beautifully, soobin thinks to himself. “i’ll be right back.” he says, walking over to you.

he cautiously taps you on the shoulder, watching as you turn around to face him. once you turn around, he gulps and his mouth goes agape. “hi my pretty boy,” you say, batting your lashes at him.

“hi pretty, you look… perfect. is this all for me?” he asks bashfully, still taken aback at how perfect you look. you nod, “yes baby, it’s all for you.” you say as you notice soobin’s eyes trailing down you and stopping at your breasts which causes you to smile.

he gulps sharply once again, “ah, well, i really love this— um— dress on you.” you smile at how nervous he’s become. oh, how the tables have turned.

“mm, ‘m sure you do pretty boy. you look quite handsome yourself,” you say finally acknowledging the finely tailored suit he has on, raising your hands and playing with his tie a bit.

you feel him gulp, which causes you to look up at him through your lashes and smile prettily. you try to look down curious as to what he’s wearing on his feet, but something catches you off guard.

your pretty boy has a boner.

you chuckle softly at the sight, looking back up at soobin & standing on your tippy toes slightly to whisper in his ear.

“want me to handle that for you, baby?” you ask, cockiness heavy in your tone.

soobin nods softly, watching as you grab his hand and take him to the private lounge in the back of the club. there’s multiple eyes trailing the two of you, including yunjin and the members.

once the two of you reach the lounge, soobin slams his lips onto yours. just as eager as him, you wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. he slips his tongue in between your lips, clashing his teeth into yours softly.

you slowly bring your hands to his hair, threading your fingers through it and pulling it roughly. that was enough to get him moaning. as he moans out loudly, you pull his head back more for access to his neck. you begin to suck on his neck with ease, which causes him to softly whimper.

“f-fuck..” he says with a stutter, his bunny-like mouth unleashing the prettiest moans known to man. after you leave a trail of hickeys behind, you slowly but surely trail the tip of your tongue up to his mouth once more. he moans into the kiss, intoxicated by the taste of your lips. you remove your hands from his hair, bringing them to undo his tie quickly. he lowers his hands to your thighs, picking you up without warning.

you yelp, “my bunny is so strong,” you say as he stares at you with nothing but lust glazing his eyes, breathing heavily.

he sits down on the couch behind him, your legs on each side of his thighs. you throw his tie to the side, unbuttoning his shirt with quickness as he raises your dress up with the same amount of eagerness as you. you begin running a hand down his chest to his stomach to his cock.

you start palming him slowly as he massages your tits through your dress before pulling the shoulders of your dress down to reveal them to himself. he stares at your chest in awe before licking a circle around your nipple and starting to suck roughly.

you throw your head back in ecstasy, threading your fingers through his hair once again. “f— fuck.. baby, you’re so good for me, i love how your lips feel on me.” soobin moans at the praise, loving how you speak to him with such assertiveness in your voice.

he pulls off your nipple with a ‘pop’, moving to the other one with smoothness. he starts flicking your nipple with his tongue, biting it softly here and there, sucking on it once more.

you moan his name softly, gripping his hair rougher each time he sucks so roughly. he finally pulls away from your tits with a dazed look on his face. you grip his chin, forcing him to look up at you.

“you want me to suck you off, pretty boy?” to that he moans and nods his head as you run your free hand through his hair. “p— please, please do m-mommy,” he says with a pretty, pleading tone.

you hum with a smile, removing yourself from his lap to get on your knees. you look up at him as you unzip his pants at a painfully, slow pace. his breathe shudders slightly as you free his cock from the tight trousers he’s had to suffer in. pulling his pants down with his boxers, you watch his cock spring back up and slap lightly against his toned stomach.

you coo softly at his tip, leaking with so much precum. you wipe up as much as you can with your two pointer fingers and stick the two fingers into your mouth, sucking in between them and slowly pull them from between your lips.

with his swollen lips agape, eyes hazed and pleading without words, he watches as you take him into your mouth. hips already rising slightly while you lick up any excess precum on his swollen and pink tip. after doing that, you decide to try and take him into your mouth fully, something you’ve never been able to do. you successfully take him fully, but not without gagging sharply.

his breath stutters at the feeling of your throat fluttering around his cock, the feeling of you gagging around his cock, knowing he’s the one making you gag. you begin bobbing your head up and down slowly, causing the beautiful man above you to whimper and moan to a great extent. his hips stutter as he breathes in and out shallowly, trying to keep himself on earth which seems impossible, with the way your mouth feels. 

“p—ple— f—fuck, p—please, mommy, p—please. l—let me c—cum.. please!” his voice increases in volume as you begin to suck him off at a faster pace, licking around his tip everytime you raise yourself back up.

“f—fuck, m—mommy! i’m s-so, c—close, p—please,” he says with the same pleading tone as always, hips stuttering every few seconds with sharpness. you take him fully one last time before thick strings of cum begin shooting down your throat, with your pretty boyfriend letting out loud, pretty, whiny moans roll off his perfect, pink lips while having a tight grip on hair, pushing you down with force.

you gag quietly as you try to swallow all of it, more still following behind what’s already been swallowed. he keeps his grip on your hair for almost a minute as he finishes cumming down your throat, whimpering from the overstimulating feeling of you licking his tip with the tip of your tongue.

you pull off of him tediously, teasing him in the slightest bit. you lick your lips and wipe your chin with your palm, slowly rising up and stepping out of your underwear.

“‘m not finished with you yet pretty, mind if i ride you?” you ask, batting your lashes slowly. with all his energy drained out of him, he just pulls your hand to help you sit on him. as you place both of your legs on each side of him once again, you place your hands on his chest, lowering yourself painfully slow, watching as he winces in overstimulation.

he places his hand on your ass, helping you move slowly as he continuously whimpers and moans softly. you coo at him once more, watching his face contort into what you know is pleasure.

“aw, is my pussy too much for you, bunny? i’ll stop if you want me to,” you say as you slowly stop moving before soobin pulls you down fully, causing you both to moan.

“n-no, i-i can h—hand— shit, i can h—handle y-your p—pretty p-pussy, i s-swear,” he manages to say, stuttering for the most of his sentence. you smile softly at him, caressing his face with your palm, “okay bunny, whatever you say.”

you begin raising and lowering your hips slowly while his grip on your ass tightens, adding more to your pleasure. you roll your hips in a circle, what was picking up your speed before soobin holds you in your place and starts snapping his hips up into yours.

your hands grip on his shoulders firmly, trying to find some way of keeping your balance. one thing you can’t help though, are the moans spilling out of you. everytime you ride soobin, you can practically feel him in your stomach but this time, you’re sure he’s already reached your lungs.

all the wind has basically been knocked out of you with the pace that he’s going at, each other’s moans spurring each other on. your head begins to feel heavy as you rest it on his shoulder, his moans now heard loud and clear as his mouth is right next to your ear.

you bite his shoulder roughly as a way to keep your moans down, but it’s getting to be too much. you give up and finally give in to the temptation.

“f—fuck! fuuuuck, r-right there, yesyesyes, f-fuck,” you manage to say while soobin is left a moaning mess, no words coming out, just plain music to your ears. he shoves his head into your neck, leaving marks all over your neck and above your chest.

his hips somehow manage to pick up a pace that brings tears to your eyes and has you throwing you your head back in pleasure. you’re both now moaning louder than ever and you’re sure anyone outside of the room can hear you both fucking like there’s no tomorrow.

skin slapping, moans rolling off your tongues repeatedly, cries from you and soobin. you’re both beginning to chase your highs as soobin pulls away from your neck and throws his head back on the top of the couch. somehow, you manage to pull him in for a kiss as you nearly reach your high.

the kiss is sloppy, heated and desperate. after not seeing each other for nearly 4 months, nobody would be shocked that this is how you two greet each other, if anything this is what was expected.

all the love that the both of you have been craving, all of the sexual tension that couldn’t be resolved over the phone, all of the pain you two have gone through that comes with not seeing your lover for such a long, long time, all the lost time. that’s all being made up for now.

feeling soobin inside of you after not having this for so long feels like a dream. having his sticky skin against yours feels like you’ve been healed from the world’s worst pain. this is what ecstasy feels like, this is what giving into the temptation looks like, this is what love looks and feels like.

you’ve never felt better, and you won’t until you cum together.

you’re both right of the tip of the iceberg, you feel it and so does soobin. your warm walls fluttering around his cock, his cock twitching inside of you. your nails clawing into his shoulders, his fingers gripping tightly on your ass. you suddenly get a warm feeling in your stomach and you want to let him know but you’re not coherent enough to say anything. neither is he, you two just know it.

soobin suddenly holds your hips in place and you grip his shoulders tighter than ever.

your back arches intensely as soobin’s hips rise up and flop back down as his thick strings of cum shoot into your fluttering pussy, just as your walls tighten around his cock and cum all over it.

you’re both panting heavily, heads resting on each other’s shoulders. his cum is still shooting into you but he’s used to this overstimulating feeling by now.

as his cum begins dripping out of you, he pulls you in for a long awaited kiss. once again, the kiss is sloppy but this time, passionate. you kiss him back with such love and affection, pulling away from him is considered the absolute impossible. but you still manage to do so, you pull away from him, looking at the thick sweat glistening on his forehead. you both admire each other’s wrecked looks before smiling and pecking each other on the lips once more.

you stay seated on him as you reach for your purse, causing you both to wince. checking your phone and seeing all your messages and missed calls from yunjin and his members, you look up at the time.

12:03 am.

you laugh to yourself before looking at soobin, “happy new year, my love.”

he smiles at the random words but doesn’t forget to say it back.

“happy new year, baby. i love you.”

“i love you too.”

now this, this is the way to bring in the new year.

© TTYUNZ.

++ tagl: @boba-beom @bucketofhiros @yeofy @n0-thisispatrick @hyukafied @hyunimylove @luvsoobs @choiwrld @majestyjun @tyunkus @belovedxiao @h00nerz

++ networks: @k-labels