#i’ll still BE here so feel free to drop by and say hi and talk to me in the tags — i WILL see it eventually

[screampied]

Begging screaming crying scratching at the walls of my enclosure like a rabid beast for more pussy slapping

❛ GIMME GIMME MORE! ❜

ꕥ : ft. gojo, toji, geto, nanami.

synopsis. asking the jujutsu kaisen men to slap it.

tags. fem! reader, pussy-slapping, impact play, degradation, squirt mentions, praise, unprotected sex, overstim, spit. wc. 2.1k

☆ FUSHIGURO TOJI.

“oh, want me to do what…?” he’d grouse, you’re leaned up against his back—your legs pried apart, and the scenery was candidly messy. it was almost silly the way your eyes were stupidly rolling back, you’re entirely dumb as you tried to ask him a simple honest question. “remember what i told ya about mumblin', pretty girl.”

your legs writhe a bit from the stimulation, the way he was manoeuvring his thick fingers against your pussy, so pitifully wet…

you heard how drenched and soaked you were before you whined, “s-smack it toji, please.”

“smack what?” he utters, a free hand gripping underneath your thigh. you moaned once you felt him run his middle finger down the inner part of your clit. “want me to smack your pussy?” you’d nod against his chest desperately as a response and he chuckles. “yeah yeah. bet you do,” and his voice dropped an octave throughout each sexy. it had no reason being that attractive—you kept feeling yourself pulse from him circling digits around your cunt before grinning. “okay, if that’s what ya want. now open these legs, ‘n hold still.”

gradually, you open your legs for toji just a bit more whilst your nails make it’s job to dig into the skin of his thigh. “perfect,” he husks, and your head just rubs against his bare chest. “guessin' ya want me to hit it little sof—”

“jus’ f-fuckin' do it, toji.” you’d whimper out of frustration—your voice comes out a tad more whiney then you intended and he just snickers.

“don’t rush me to spank y’er sloppy pussy, whore. i’ll take my damn time, ‘n you’ll sit patient until i’m ready,” and you’re briefly stunned for a moment once he brings a rough smack towards your clit. “listen to how soaked this shit is. shame.”

“to—”

“ah ah, no talkin’, let her speak,” toji murmurs in a rough voice, gravelly and deeply rich with baritone. the way he addressed your pussy as her. you lean into his touch once he brings a hand over your mouth, and the very palm of his hand gets met with your slick saliva. “ooooh. look at how much wetter y’er pussy gets each time i—spank,” and each hit your cunt twitches. “yeah, ‘s it. take it so well, look at that.”

you gnaw into your cheek, lashes fluttering beneath you until you feel toji’s fingers slither its way into your mouth. “…yeah,” he mumbles, and your pussy’s met with more and spanks, the sting made your ears ring and spiral. “aw, ya gonna cum from this aren’tcha, girl? this all it takes?”

it felt so good, the way your mouth grew dry, his dirty talk right up against your ear. the bass in his voice—toji’s smooth with his words, suave even.

suave but nasty.

“fuckin' give it to me to then,” he grunts, and you gasp, feeling him use his entire wrist, the way he moves his fingers against your pussy. your head’s just idly tapping and tapping against his chest as he’s now got two fingers shoved inside. smack after smack, you never wanted it to end. “lemme see how messy you can get just from a few pussy slaps, doll.”

☆ GOJO SATORU.

“not this again,” gojo playfully sulks, he’d just got done from rearranging your insides—you’re all dumbly wide eyed, mouth still open, panting. he just got down stuffing you full of his broad, thick set inches. such a mess, his own cum was just languidly oozing out of your cunt. “spank here? baby, you say this everyti-”

“please….satoru,” you’d pout, and even that gesture doesn’t do anything. he just smiles, swiping a tongue against his lips before moving his eyes down towards your pulsating clit. “just a few times. feels good when you do it.”

jocularly, he raises a thin brow.

“…yeah?” and he purposely leans up close, you shudder from the moment you feel him smack the fat tip of his dick between your folds—you only pouted more, because you wanted his hands, not that. “well, if it feels so good, why can’t ya do it yourself? you’re a big girl. you know good ‘n well how to please yourself, no?”

“s-satoruuu.” you entreated, feeling the steaming heat pool up between your legs.

“oh okay, fineeee,” he mocks your exact tone, and your lip quivers as you brace yourself—you part your legs open just a bit, and he smiles knowing he doesn’t have to do that. you let off a soft mewl once without warning he brings a hard smack against your soaked pussy, then another, then another. “aw, look at the way your cute tits bounce each time i smack it.”

and he was right, each hit he gave against your clit, you’d cutely jerk against the bed, making your entire body move, including your breasts.

“wow, maybe i should spank ya here more often,” he murmurs in a sly, low voice. the way he’d pitch his tone just to talk dirty to you made you ten times wetter. your nerves, you felt them throb inside you as you laid back against the silk sheets. “the noises you make too, ‘s kinky,” he giggles, taking a second to caress your pussy before smacking it again. “mhm, that spot, yeah? so damp for me. nasty ‘n wet, allll for the honored one.”

“f-fuck.” you’d drag out, panting heavily. gojo’s eyes remain on you the entire time—you’re having a staring contest with the wall, dry wall to be specific. hit after hit after hit, you tried counting the spanks but…oh, it was pointless. “i think ‘m gonna cum a-again.”

he studies your clit, smearing your own glistening slick against your folds before softly blowing against it to watch you move and squirm even more.

“god, you’re such a fuckin’ soaker, aren’t ya?” and he smacks it again, a good reasonable pace. your head goes back against the plump pillow and that’s when your back started to arch. “tell me how wet you are.”

“i-i’m wet, jus’ for you, ‘toru.” you whimpered, moans after moans just effortlessly coaxing out of you—as if it was nothing.

“yeah you fuckin’ are. now let’s test out that cute little squirt velocity while i’m at it, hm?”

☆ NANAMI KENTO.

“yes, my love,” he’d utter in a soft hushed tone, you had just got done riding him—overly sensitive still, he’s buried all inside you with your arms being thrown around his shoulders. “what do you want? i can tell when you want something.”

“i—” you started, suddenly growing too embarrassed to ask. would he do it? nanami was so sweet during sex, you were the upmost sure. you’d always fantasize about him spanking your pussy. the thought of him giving you a weird look or him finding it the slightest bit of strange.

his fingers gently trail against your waist, and he gives you a warm smile.

“um,” you started, wriggling your hips just against him before he softly pressed his thumbs on both sides of your hips. “it’s…promise you won’t find it weird?”

he chuckles, “i promise, hon. now tell me what is it that you want from me.”

you huff out a sigh, before getting off of him, taking a few seconds to speak before you grab his hand. your fingers brushed against the cold band of his inordinately pricey watch. “i want…” you trailed, and he watched as you drag his hand further down until its right between your legs. “i want you to slap h-here.”

“…oh,” nanami says with a coy smile. “this is what has you all shy? darling….sweetheart,” he coos, his voice gets seductively low and you felt yourself throb before he lies you down on your back. “but, why of course, anything to please the pretty girl, i suppose.”

nanami’s so gentle and tender with his touch, he makes sure to caress your pussy with his palm before even thinking about spanking it—you grab onto his free unoccupied wrist once the first slap against your cunt approaches you.

almost forthwith, you moan from the feeling of immense pleasure, he views the way your body reacts. the way your hips easily thrusts forward, and you’re soaking.

“was that too hard, sweetheart?” he whispers, making sure to caress and gently pat your folds soothingly. “i know you’re enjoyin' this but as your husband, i just wanna make sure you’re alright.”

“i’m fine, h-harder, kento.” you panted, sliding a tongue against your lips in utter desperation. it felt so good, especially whenever he softly maneuvered sweet circles against your pussy as an attempt to gentle caress the after sting.

he smiles with a firm shake of his head. “my oh my, never knew you were this kinky, my love,” and he happily complies. each spank has you going feral, your legs could barely hold themselves open but like the gentleman nanami was — he held them open for you.

“nice ‘n wet for me, good girl. just relax and let me give your precious spot the attention you want,” he’d mumble in a soft, gruff tone. the noises were so lewd and messy, the sounds of your own pussy squelching continuously, just filthy. after a while, nanami starts to slow down a bit once he knows you’re approaching your peak. “aw, that look you’re giving me,” he says, gently rubbing his palm against your slick before giving it a final spank. “it’s okay, i know. i know. you’re gonna make a mess on my hand?”

you nod and he hums. “yeah? good, now just relax, ‘n give it to your husband,” he whispers, leaning in to give your pussy a soft kiss. “let go just for me and only me, good girl.”

☆ SUGURU GETŌ.

he’d be in the middle of eating you out when you ask him—you’d simply give his hair a light tug, and his darkened pupils give you an almost intimidating glare.

“suguru...” you’d mumble, and he was so messy, your sweet slick running all the way down his chin, he takes a second to lick the sweetness from his lips before rubbing them together.

“yes, baby. i was in the middle of eating until you interrupted me.” he mutters, sassy attitude in his tone, he looked so pretty between your legs.

you swallowed, getting a bit comfortable in your position, releasing your fingers from his hair before mumbling. “um, i wanted you to do that thing you did last time.”

“girl you’re gonna have to be specific,” he grumbles, a bit irked that you pulled him off, whenever geto ate you out he didn’t like to be cut off so abruptly. “do what thing?”

“spank my um...pussy.” you drag out.

geto lowly chuckles, soft dimples pressing against the corners of his lips. “that?” you felt yourself heat up before he leans up close between your legs.

“fine fine, sure thing baby. anything you want.” and you stare down at him, he was lazy enough to keep your panties on, just sleazily shoving the middle string aside.

“you better watch me do it since you interrupted me,” he utters in a low voice, and you throb at how close he is, warm breath just softly brushing against your pussy. “tie my hair up for me again while you’re at it, girl,” he whispers. you do, grabbing a good amount of his hair, tying it up for him. “thank you baby.”

you shriek out a moan once he gives you the first smack against your cunt, then slides his tongue against your inner folds—giving it a big suck before he delivers the next smack.

“f-fuck, s-spit on it too, please..”

“you’re bossy today, huh,” he utters in a deep voice, the soft padded tip of his nose prods against your nub before he gathers a wad before geto spats right on your pussy only to lap it right up with his tongue. “eyes on me, say it.”

“e-eyes on you, sugu…”

you moaned, feeling yourself twitch from the stimulation. you watch as he slowly licks your pussy, getting a good enough taste, savoring it before smacking it again. geto rubbed it for a brief seconds before doing it again and again, a constant loop.

he smiles, nose deep practically—your legs were just about to give out before you end up squirting. geto chuckles, clicking his tongue in amusement before leaning up, a hand still between your legs.

you whine once he gives your pussy a playful squeeze, he was always so good with his hands.

“you messy girl,” he slyly says before grabbing your chin softly, staring right into your eyes. he squeezes your lips together before sneaking a kiss—only to pull away with a striking gaze. “now stick out your tongue. i want you to taste your mess.”

[satoruwiki]

ᶻ 𝗓 ‎𐰁 SOMNO! ꒰੭

MINORS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DNI!!

content: nsfw; smut; jjk drabbles; porn w no plot; somnophilia; dubcon? ig so; afab!reader; fem!reader; implied relationship; multi headcanon w jjk men; cunilingus; thigh fucking; cockwarming

w.c: 0.3k - 0.2k - 0.2k - 0.3k

n/a: i was supposed to put suguru and hiromi here but i ran out of ideas, i’ll make a part two when i come up w something lol. english isn’t my first language and im still a rookie at writing so bear with me please! any feedback/request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated :b repost bc i may or may not have deleted it during my breakdown rip 1k notes

SUKUNA

"...Who even sleeps like that?" Sukuna groaned quietly, catching a glimpse of your bare pussy under your nightgown. "If it isn't just begging to be fucked," he says, lifting the gown covering your cunt up to your stomach.

He must've hit the jackpot, he thinks. Having a cute girlfriend who's a heavy sleeper and happens to have a habit of sleeping with no panties on.

"it's good for the body," you said when he asked about it the first time. Then you told him about the properties of sleeping naked, which he couldn't bring himself to care and didn't pay attention to the rest of your words; though he did understand one thing between you chattering--he had free access to your pretty little pussy.

Sukuna spread your legs apart with care - he didn't want to wake you up after all - and sunk his head between your thighs, his mouth already watering, eager to eat your pussy. He dropped soft kisses on your inner thighs, leaving marks that he was there with his teeth. 

A smug smirk crept up his face, listening to your soft mewls spilling out your lips while asleep. You must be having one hell of a dream, he thinks - he can tell by the way your cunt seeps out your essence. Sukuna gathers some of your arousal with his thumb up to your sensitive nub, playing with it gently in eight before he finally feasts on you.

He fucked you with his tongue, lapping and sucking at your folds until he had his mouth and chin glistening in your slick. Sukuna found it endearing that you’d respond to his touch just like you would awake. He could tell you were close; your hips jerked and your legs quivered at every broad stroke of his tongue on your core. A gasp left your lips as you reached your peak, soaking the sheets underneath you. His thick fingers rubbed your clit aggressively, riding you out of your high until he finally left you alone. The next morning, he made you think you peed yourself while sleeping and teased you about it.

TOJI

"Wake up, doll," he whispered to your ear, his hand trailing down your thigh. "Wake up, you damn sleepyhead."

Toji had tried to wake you up a few times with little success. His hard-on pressed against your ass, Toji attempted to wake you up the romantic way, peppering you with kisses down to your neck, talking to you oh-so sweetly, hoping to maybe coax you into an early quick fuck. Y'know, to start the day.

He hadn't expected that those melatonin gummies you took the night prior worked so well, though. You were asleep as a log.

"Fuck, you leave me to no choice, doll cakes," Toji muttered, tugging down your underwear and spitting on his hand to lube himself up with his spit and pre that leaked down his shaft. He gave himself a few tugs and eased his way between your thighs, rutting himself between them lazily.

He snuggled his head into the crook of your neck, his dark bangs falling down his eyes, quiet groans leaving his lips.

He smirked to himself as he felt your cunt getting wet, making it easier for him to fuck your thighs— he assumed that his cock stroking your folds at each thrust subconsciously made you feel good, small noises replacing your quiet snores from earlier. 

“Shit, you like that, huh?” He hissed, consumed by pleasure, nipping your earlobe, his hand wandering to stimulate your clit in circular motions, his gentle touch contrasting the roughness of his hands.

A fine coat of sweat glistened on Toji as he rocked into your thighs, drawing moans from you in your sleep. Until his dick pulses, spurting thick ropes of cum on your thighs.

SATORU

"You promise we're going to sleep now?" You asked, struggling to keep your eyes open, too tired to keep going one more round.

Satoru brought you closer to his chest, nuzzling into your neck. "Yeah, I promise, baby. I just wanted to sleep with you like this," he says, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder, "You're warm inside, by the way. It lulls me to sleep."

"Shut up," you mumble, embarrassed, slowly dozing off to sleep. You were a little reluctant to let him sleep still fully sheathed inside you. Something told you he wouldn't keep his promise of not coaxing you into another round. The damn stamina of this man. But he was your boyfriend, so you had to trust his words.

"Sorry," he whispers, closing his eyes to fall asleep with you, already hearing your quiet snores.

-

He can't sleep.

'Holy shit, how many minutes has it been already? 10? 15?' Satoru thinks. He can't seem to doze off, not when you feel so good around him, his cock already pulsing and twitching inside you.

"I'm so sorry, baby, I lied," Satoru murmurs, heat rushing to his cheeks as he starts to move inside you, letting breathy moans escape from his throat from how good your pussy makes him feel.

NANAMI

Nanami is an upright and correct man. He has never done anything you don't want and respects your boundaries.

However, today, he couldn't resist the urge.

Nanami panted as he ground over your cunt, soaking your underwear in his pre. You were asleep when he got home from work, later than usual. The reason for his delay was his white-haired coworker, who had nagged him into going out for some drinks until he begrudgingly agreed.

His teeth latched onto his bottom lip to stifle his groans, his abs clenching at every thrust. As much as he tried to keep quiet and not wake you up, unfortunately for him, it did not work.

"…Kento?" You mumbled, stirring out of your sleep, your eyes blinking a few times and adjusting to the room's darkness.

"Fuck, I'm- I'm sorry," Nanami huffs bashfully, the pink colour on his cheek blooming into a darker one up to the tip of his ears. He was about to pull away when you stopped him, wrapping your fingers around his wrist.

"No, don't be. I think it's cute," you smiled drowsily. "I find it endearing you got so worked up you couldn't help yourself. It's kinda hot if you ask me," you giggled, your hand wandering up to trail on Kento's abs.

Nanami shuddered under your touch, his cock throbbing and aching for some release. He gulped, swallowing his saliva thickly, "are you sure?" he asked, caressing the side of your thighs. You answered with a nod, humming a soft 'mhm'.

"Wanna keep up what you were doing?" You asked with anticipation, grabbing his cock onto your hand and teasing him by rubbing his tip up and down across your slit.

Nanami hissed, his face scrunching like he was in pain even though he was not and leaned to cup your cheek in his hand, murmuring, "You know how much I love you, right?"

[nereidprinc3ss]

baby fever

in which reader and spencer discuss having a baby while at work

fluff warnings/tags: fem/AFAB!reader, bau!reader, BOYFRIEND!SPENCER or husband if u so desire, discussions of pregnancy/having a baby (obviously), reader wants a baby, so does spencer a/n: god i need him so badly. should i write follow up smut?? mwahaha evil emoji......

The coffee finished brewing minutes ago, but you’re still standing by the pot, watching Anderson’s daughter toddling around the bullpen on chubby legs. She’s not very adept at walking, but her spirit is indomitable—every time she tips a little too far forward, she catches herself and gets right back up. It’s not like she’s doing anything particularly impressive or even interesting, but you can’t take your eyes off her. Every movement makes your heart twinge, every giggle or curious quirk of her head is so adorable it physically hurts in your chest. 

From your peripheral vision you see Spencer approaching, bearing his own empty mug, but not even he can draw your attention away from the adorable little pixie and her tutu and her pigtails. 

“That is the cutest kid I have ever seen in my life,” you whisper to Spencer, hoping the quiet tone of your voice will help hide how much you feel like cooing and squealing. 

He smiles to himself as he pours his coffee. 

“That’s Rosie. Have you said hi yet?” 

“I’m afraid if I talk to her I’ll try to keep her.” 

“She is pretty adorable.” 

You turn to him as he leans next to you on the counter, sipping his coffee casually. 

“Adorable? Spencer. Puppies are adorable. You’re not understanding the magnitude of what I mean right now. I can’t explain to you how much adorable doesn’t cut it. I’m not kidding about the child abduction thing.” 

HIs eyes slide around the room as he chuckles into his mug. 

“Let’s maybe not joke about kidnapping a child in FBI headquarters.” 

“I’m not joking,” you hiss. “I feel like I’m going insane. I just—” 

At the last second you stop yourself, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“You just what?” Spencer asks, adjusting the hem of your shirt with his free hand. You glance down, watching the care he takes in the tiniest detail that you wouldn’t have given a second thought to. 

“Is something wrong with my shirt?” 

His eyes flick up to yours, hazel tinted with mild surprise. 

“No. It just was sliding up your waist a little bit.” As he says it, his knuckles brush the bare skin of your torso. You suppress a shiver, studying his profile once he pulls his hand away and goes for another sip. 

“Can we have one?” 

Your inopportune timing results in coffee dribbling down Spencer’s chin as he quickly attempts to wipe it away, wide eyes torn between you and trying to assess the mess he’s made. 

“You--you mean like a baby?” 

“Yeah, like a baby,” you say, grabbing his shoulders and squaring them to you before dabbing the coffee from his face and jacket. He watches on as you clean him up, completely still except for his wandering eyes. 

“I thought we were waiting on that.” 

“Waiting for what? A better time? There’s never going to be a good time with this job. And it’s not like we’d have to quit. Look at JJ. She has two and still does it.” 

“First of all,” Spencer begins, quickly recovering from your surprise proposition, “I don’t love the idea of either of us being in the field with you pregnant. And secondly, JJ also has Will and her mother to take care of the boys. We don’t have that. We’re both here all the time.” 

“I don’t care,” you groan, trashing the paper towels once you’ve done the best you can with his clothing. “We’d figure it out somehow!” 

“Mhm. It sounds like you’ve really devoted some careful consideration to this.” 

You drop your head to your shoulder, giving him your best puppy dog eyes and pulling lightly on his shirtsleeve. 

“Oh, come on. You haven’t thought about it at all? My perfect brain and your pretty face fusing to create a future Nobel-prize winner? Imagine how cute she would be, Spencer, we could put her hair in little braids and pigtails and we could dress her up and she could be in soccer and ballet and—” 

“She?” he smiles, studying your face intently. You roll your eyes. 

“Yes, she. Obviously we would have a girl. You—” 

The idea of Spencer as the father of your daughter hits you like a tidal wave, stopping you dead in your tracks. The images materialize in your mind’s eye so clearly, it’s like they’re already memories, so real and tangible you have no doubt it must come to fruition someday. But if before, your ranting was mostly a silly fantasy—now it’s become a bit more intense. 

He seems to sense your shift in mood. The big smile thaws slightly as he subtly grabs your hand on the counter. 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

There he goes again. Being kind. Being perfect. 

Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t let them fall.  

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just... didn’t realize how badly I actually wanted that until I said it out loud.” 

The concern in his eyes softens to pure affection as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. 

“I want it too. And whenever you decide you’re ready I’ll drop everything for you.” 

His words are like compounding pressure to the deep heat within you—forming something so solid and perfect you don’t have to wonder if it’s real. A ten on the Mohs scale, a concept that gets closer to actualizing by the minute.  

Your voice is quiet, revelatory as you admire the amber facets in his eyes. 

“You’re ready?”  

“I’ve been ready for quite some time,” he admits. And at once you feel the certainty of him paint your past and your future with one broad brushstroke. One day you will look back on your life and remember the time before Spencer, and that will be it. There is before Spencer, and with Spencer, but never an after Spencer. He wants to create something utterly permanent with you. “Come here.” 

He sets his mug down, carefully pulling you forward so you’re toe to toe with your back to the rest of the BAU; so that only he can see you. Despite how good the two of you are at avoiding PDA, occasionally an exception is made. He tenderly wipes away the few tears that have sprung from your waterline and accepts your arms around his waist, mirroring your embrace and completely enveloping you.  

“I love you,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, quiet enough that nobody in the office has a chance of hearing it. You sniffle. 

“I love you too. Also you smell really good.” 

He chuckles, hand roaming up and down your back for a moment. 

“And that is why we are holding off on this at least for a while.” 

“What do you mean?” you whisper indignantly as he gently peels you off him. His hands remain a steadying force on your waist as he smiles down at you beatifically. 

“I mean let’s give it two weeks and see if you still want a baby when you’re not ovulating.” 

[lunarsturniolo]

Body Shots | Frat!Chris

Not in the same universe as Pillow Talk Chris. Just another Frat!Chris au lol

Thank you @querenciasturniolo for proofreading!! This is longer than most of my fics, and there was no way I'd be able to properly check for mistakes.

I nod slightly, my fingers fidgeting with the button of my pants, “You gotta stop moving,” he says, making me still. 

He hums a nod at my obedience, his mouth widening into a smile, “Look at you,” he says, “So pretty.” 

My hand starts twitching again, a sign of excitement. Chris gently takes my wrist with his free hand and holds it down at my side, “You gotta stop.”

My eyes widened slightly in surprise, and I nodded again. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

Chris nods, “It’s okay. Just stay still,” he teases.

or

Chris teaches Y/N how to take body shots (and it escalates)

Warnings: alcohol use, unprotected sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), praise kink if you squint, cnc if you don’t read carefully. MDNI

Masterlist

“Hi,” I gave a sweet smile over the bar, “Can I please have another shot of tequila?”

Chris was working the bar today. After an overwhelming Wine Wednesday and a slightly unsuccessful mixer on Thursday, he didn’t want to go too overboard at the party his frat was hosting. So, there Chris was, working behind the makeshift bar, pouring shots and distributing Truly’s to the girls who were still there. 

It was nearing 3 am, and the crowd was beginning to die down. Chris overheard my request and nudged the other bartender, “Got it,” he said, effectively switching places with him. 

Chris leans over the bar, his left forearm resting in a few drops of alcohol as he leans closer to me, “You gonna let me take one with you?” 

I look up at him with an innocent smile, “It’s gonna cost you.” 

He barks a laugh in my direction, “You’re literally in my house,” he says. 

I nod, “I am.”

“So you should be giving me somethin’.”

I give Chris a long look and leave a pregnant pause, “I might be open to something.”

Chris pushes himself off the bar and disappears into the kitchen. I take the moment alone to look around the house. I spotted my friend Kylie, whom I lost to a group of girls about 10 minutes ago when No Hands started playing. With a bit of flair, I watch as the DJ starts to play Sexy Bitch, “How fitting,” Chris says, finding his way back to the counter. 

I roll my eyes with a small smile playing on my lips, “What do you want?” 

“Wanna do body shots?” he asks with a smirk playing on his lips. He holds up his right hand. He was still carrying the bottle of Jose Cuervo. But now, in the palm of his hand, I see a lime peeking out. 

My smile falters slightly, “I’ve never done a body shot.”

“Has anyone done one off of you?” He asks. 

I shake my head, Chris’s eyes widening with amusement. “First time for everything,” he mumbles. He reaches under the bar, producing a wild berry Truly and passing it to a girl behind me that I hadn’t noticed. 

“Who said I wanted to do a body shot?” I tease. 

Chris shrugs, “You want to do one. I know you.” 

I fold my lips in on themselves, “Okay. Teach me.”

He smiles victorious. “Do you wanna get on the counter?”

I look around once again. The room, by far, isn’t crowded, but there are people here you know you’re going to see again. 

“Do I have to?” I finally ask, “It’s kinda embarrassing.”

“Why would that be embarrassing?” Chris deadpans. 

“Because everyone can see me.”

“Who the fuck cares?” Chris says, “Now get on the counter, or I’ll spread you out myself.”

I decide it’s in my best interest to get on the counter. I step up into the kitchen before hoisting myself up onto the counter. Chris tells me to lie down, so I oblige. I can feel remnants of the bar from the night staining my bare skin and weighing down my hair. I cringe slightly at the thought before turning to look at Chris, my cheek resting on the cool surface of the bar. 

“So, there are two routes I could go,” Chris begins, “I could pour this into your belly button and take the shot out of there, or I could just use a shot glass and call it a day.” 

My eyes widened, “Yeah, can we do the second one?” 

With a chuckle, Chris nods in agreement. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinkin’, too.” 

He turns around and quarters the lime over the sink. He reaches across the bar, hovering a lime wedge over my face. He taps it gently against the parting of my lips, “Open up for me, yeah?”

I nod and widen my mouth, softly biting into the lime, a bit of juice rolling into the back of my throat, “Good girl,” he commends. 

I roll my eyes, a slight mumble emitting from the back of my throat due to the lime I’m holding, “Shut up,” I tell him.

Chris gently guides my hands down to my sides and nudges my hip, “Can I lift this up a little?” 

I hum a reply, the lime starting to become a proper hindrance. Chris gently tugs at my shirt, making me arch my back so he can lift it to my breasts. My hands itch at my side as he plants a series of wet kisses, making a line from right under my belly button to the waistband of my pants.

A blush forms on my cheeks as his nose nips under my pants, raising the waistband slightly and giving him a view of the black lace panties I had worn to the frat tonight. 

He reaches for the salt behind him, grabs a small pinch of it, and sprinkles it over the slight sheen of saliva that is left behind. “Squeeze my hand if you want to stop,” he tells me, putting my hand in his. 

Using his free hand, he grabs a small orange glass and flips it upright. He laxly pours a double shot of tequila into the glass, watching me wither under his gaze. 

My right hand landed on my stomach, tapping a pattern next to the line of salt, trying my best not to make a mess around me. The music is still going, and I’m sure Kylie is about to text me, telling me she found a guy to go home with. Chris is still distributing drinks to the girls who are coming up to the bar, and I’m sitting with a ball of anticipation in my stomach.

He returns to me with a shy smile, “Sorry, mama, I’m here for real.”

I nod slightly, my fingers fidgeting with the button of my pants, “You gotta stop moving,” he says, making me still. 

He hums a nod at my obedience, his mouth widening into a smile, “Look at you,” he says, “So pretty.” 

My hand starts twitching again, a sign of excitement. Chris gently takes my wrist with his free hand and holds it down at my side, “You gotta stop.”

My eyes widened slightly in surprise, and I nodded again. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

Chris nods, “It’s okay. Just stay still,” he teases. 

He gives me one last look before leaning down, his tongue making contact with my stomach. I flinch at the contact, slightly unexpecting, and Chris looks up at me through his eyelashes. 

I drink in the sight of him, remembering every detail as his hands push me down against the table. His hair has fallen over his eyes, the dark ringlets tickling my stomach with his painfully slow movements. 

Chris lets go of my left wrist, his hand taking hold of the shot he poured. My newly free hand moves without thought, entangling itself into his hair, tugging his further up my body in anticipation. 

He hums out a moan with a taunting smile on his face as his tongue dips into my belly button, lingering for an extra moment. The salt sticks to his tongue as he brings the shot glass up to his lips, wrapping them around the glass before quickly throwing his head back. His jaw flexes as he stretches his neck, and I watch as his Adams Apple moves as he swallows. 

Chris squeezes my hand as he swallows the bitter flavor, his lips coming down for mine to grab the lime. In a moment of weakness, I suck the lime further into my mouth so he has no choice but to graze my lips with his. 

As anticipated, Chris’s lips make lingering contact with mine. His tongue pokes out and wedges itself beneath my lip and into my mouth, grabbing the bottom of the lime and pushing it into his mouth. 

Moving back slightly, I keep him from moving any further with a hand in his hair. With hooded eyes, he looks at me as he bites into the lime, some of the juice falling into my mouth and some of it dripping down his chin in a sensual manner. 

He turns his head slightly, silently asking to move. I let go of his hair, and he turned his head, spitting the lime out of his mouth and onto the kitchen floor. He looks at me with a smile, “Do you still want your shot?” 

“Will it also be a body shot?”

“Whatever you want,” He tells me. 

I pull his hand in between us, guiding his ear to my lips, “What I want is to go to your bedroom.”

Chris looks at me, “Beg me.” 

“Please, Chris, I wanna go to your room.”

He smirks, “Again,” he tsks. 

I roll my eyes in annoyance, “I’m not begging.” 

“Then you’re not getting in my room,” he replies. 

I leave a long pause before letting out a big sigh, “Please, babe? Can you take me to your bedroom?”

He hums in acceptance, “What do you wanna do in the bedroom, mama?” 

I look at him and swallow harshly, “I want you to touch me.”

“But what do you want to do?”

My voice wavers into a whisper, “I want to take a shot off you,” I tell him. 

“Mmmm, that’s a good girl,” Chris says, “Always telling me what you want.” 

I blush, and Chris moves away to start cleaning up the kitchen. I see him gather a new shot glass, a lime, and some salt before helping me off the counter with a hand on the small of my back. 

Together, we walk towards the staircase that’s slightly blocked off- he keeps a hand on the small of my back, nodding a slight hello as we pass his friends. 

He lets me in front of him when we get to the stairs, watching my backside as I make my way up, stopping outside his room and waiting for him to unlock it. 

With a quick twist of his wrist, the key had unlocked his door, and he led me into his bedroom, sitting on his bed with his knees apart. I made my way closer to him, standing between his knees and giving him a shy smile.

“Can you take your shirt off?” I ask him. 

He nods, his hands falling to the hem of his henley, pulling it off in a swift motion, “Where do you want me?” he asks. 

I cock my head as I look at him contemplatively, “Maybe just lay down.” 

He nods and does as I say, “Can I, um-” 

“You want me naked?” he asks.

My cheeks turn hot at his words, “Can I take off your pants?” I ask him. 

He laughs at my shy demeanor, “You gotta get naked for me too, then, ma.” 

Without a second thought, I drop my hands to my jeans, fiddling with the button before allowing them to pool at my ankles. His hands find the hem of my shirt, this time, pulling it over my head gently. He rests his hands on my back before letting me unbuckle his belt.

“Chris,” I whine lightly.

“Yeah?”

Instead of replying, I push him down onto his bed. His head stayed propped up by some pillows, and he brought his hands behind his head so he could watch me. The two of us were naked, and I finally decided to let the looks of him sink in. 

His cock was sporting a healthy erection, just as arousal was beginning to pool between my legs- we were clearly both turned on. 

“C’mere,” he says, motioning for me to step towards him. “Wanna see if my baby’s worked up for me.” 

I happily make my way over to Chris’s head, legs spread slightly for him to feel my cunt. Without a moment's rest, the pads of his fingers made their way to my bare skin, feeling the warm, plush skin and rubbing my clit slightly to create some friction. I moan lightly at his touch before he pulls his fingers away and rests them on my bottom lip. 

“You wanna taste yourself for me, mama?” he asks. 

I dip my chin as a nod, his fingers now resting on the parting of my lips. My tongue darts out at his long digits, coating them lightly as I taste myself on his fingers, making Chris moan in appreciation. 

I hollow out my cheeks before taking his fingers out of my mouth, a small smile growing on my face. 

“Gonna use this on my stomach, okay?” he asks, referring to the fingers I had in my mouth seconds prior. 

Wordlessly, I nod as Chris drags his fingers down his happy trail- from the bottom of his belly button to the base of his cock- at an agonizingly slow pace. My eyes watch his fingers desperately as they mimic the exact path my tongue will take. 

I clear my throat, “Salt?” I ask. 

“Yeah, baby. Add some salt.” 

I took the metal salt shaker that made its way onto his nightstand and used it to disperse salt into a thin line along his body. Chris reaches under his bed and produces a bottle of tequila, “From my stash,” he informs me. 

I laugh, filling up a shot glass most of the way, feeling slightly overwhelmed at the thought of taking another double tonight.

I pick up a lime wedge and hand it to Chris. Dismissively, he sets it back on the table, “You won’t need that. Promise,” he tells me, a hand making its way into my hair and pulling me close to his mouth. 

I can feel his breath fanning on my face as I study his eyes up close for the millionth time tonight, “Okay,” I agree. 

Chris hums with satisfaction, “You’re such a good, obedient girl for me, baby. Always listening to me so well.” 

This time, I hum in reply, the praise making me feel extra warm. “I wanna listen to you, Chris,” I tell him. My lips pucker up slightly before placing a small, aromantic peck on his lips.

He smiles at me, “Good idea, baby.” He lets my hair go loosely, allowing me to lean back. “You’re gonna tell me if anything is too much, right?” he confirms. 

“Yeah, Chris. I’ll let you know. You get to use me until I say otherwise.” 

I watch as a satisfying grin spreads on his face, “You’ve always been my favorite girl, you know?” 

With a small laugh, I bring my face down to be level with his naval. He gathers my hair into a makeship ponytail in one hand and holds my shot glass for me in another, “I need to see you, mama.” 

I smile, my tongue darting out to lick my lips, “Okay.” 

Looking at Chris out of the corner of my eye, I bring my tongue to the beginning of the line of salt, licking slowly down to the base of his cock. My left-hand finds his balls, fondling with them lightly as I make my way down to his cock. 

He lets out a moan, “When you get there, keep your tongue out, baby. I wanna feed you your shot.” 

I turn my head towards him, giving him a slight nod, my tongue still working its way down his body. Giving the base of his cock a light kiss, I tilt my head up for Chris to pour the shot. 

Feeling the alcohol glide down my throat immediately, without the need to swallow or for a chase, made me gag lightly. I closed my mouth, savoring the flavor of salt on my tongue before Chris moved my head. 

Directing me down further to where his cock is, he rests my cheek on his left thigh. My tongue darts out, lapping around the base of his cock as my hand continues to play with his balls. 

“That’s right, baby,” he praises me, “You can get up on the bed if you want.” 

With a nod, I crawl up onto the bed, my mouth moving from the base to the tip. 

I begin slowly licking the tip, watching the precum develop, and swallowing it as it comes. With a keen fascination, I loosen my jaw and begin to put his cock into my mouth. 

Chris lets out a groan, “Fuck.” He reaches around his body, one hand finding my breasts. He rolls my nipple between his fingers and fondles my breasts, eliciting a soft moan from the back of my throat and around his tip.

I continue to push his cock into my mouth before I gag lightly and call it my limit. My hand jerks off what is left outside my mouth, and Chris begins to lose it. 

His hands are tugging at my hair, and he is gently pushing my head forward onto his cock, loving the way my throat closes around the tip when I gag. Chris was in a state of euphoria. 

“You good, mama?” he chokes out, pulling me off his cock slightly for reassurance. 

Instead of verbally answering, I push his cock further into my throat, humming a reply, sending vibrations up through his body. 

My tongue flatted against the underside of his cock, my head moving faster as I prompted Chris to fuck my mouth. His thrusts grew from wary to forceful as I began to gag, drool, and moan around him with each movement he made. 

Tears grew at the brim of my eyes from the intensity, “Do you like it when I’m rough with you, mama?” 

Unable to reply, I affectionately squeeze his thigh, “I know, baby. It feels so good to please me, huh?” he says. His hand leaves my nipple, entangling it into my head roughly so he has more control to ride out his orgasm.

With an especially deep thrust, I let out a long groan, my eyes rolling back slightly with satisfaction. Chris’s cock begins to twitch in my mouth, and I instinctively hollow out my cheeks, sucking harshly on his shaft. 

Chris looks down at me with a smile, “I’m close, mama, I promise. Then I’ll fuck you good as a thank you.”

I nod, my voice significantly hindered by his cock lodged in my throat. With a final few thrusts from Chris and a gargling noise that arose from my mouth, he emptied himself into my mouth with a loud, resonating moan. 

Giving me a minute to recover, he slid his cock out from my mouth and found a water bottle on his nightstand to feed me. 

With a smile, I look at him, “I love having your cock in my mouth.” 

With a small laugh, he rests his hand under my chin, wiping away some cum that didn’t quite make it into my mouth, “I love fucking your mouth, baby.” 

I bite my lip in excitement, allowing him to use me as he chooses one again. 

“Lie down, hmm?” he asks. 

I do as I'm told, taking his spot on the bed as he straddles my body. He leans down towards the mattress, his lips finding my cunt. I can feel his breath fan across my body as he begins to lap his tongue in a circular pattern, hitting each part of my cunt. 

Unceremoniously, his teeth begin to nip at my clit, creating the perfect amount of friction to make me moan out loud- probably loud enough to be heard over the music playing downstairs.

“Chris, please,” I beg.

“What, mama?” he asks, coming up for air with a small pant. His lips were wet and puffy from the time he spent attacking my clit, and I could see a bit of my arousal begin to make its way down his chin. 

“I need you inside me, please,” I whimper. 

Chris hums, sending my hips upward with a jolt. The action makes him laugh, which in turn does not help my squirming, “I’ll get inside ya,” he promises. 

With one last feathery kiss to my clit, he sends a series of kisses up from my naval to my lips. By the time he has reached my lips, there are drops of my cum trailing up my body as a result of my cum dripping off Chris’s chin. 

He leaves a few soft kisses on my lips before I bring his head to mine, holding it there while I nip at his bottom lip. He smiles, sliding his tongue into my mouth and allowing me to take control of the kiss as he adjusts himself against me. 

I feel the tip of his cock poking at my entrance before he slowly buries it into my cunt. I let out a gasp, my jaw falling slack as Chris’s tongue laps at the inside of my mouth, trying to regain my attention. 

“C’mon, mama, I know you can take me,” he tells me. 

“I can take you,” I parrot back. 

“Yeah, baby,” Chris agrees, “You’re doing so good.” 

He stills for a moment, and I look down between us to see his cock has filled me completely, and he’s allowing me a moment to adjust. I grind my hips against him, my clit rubbing against the base of his cock, making both of us groan. 

Looking back up at him, I give him a quick peck of encouragement to start thrusting again. He gently rolls his hips before slowly pulling out and roughly pushing back in. 

He began to make this a rhythmic approach, filling the silence between his skin and slapping on yours with a series of breathy moans and chants of both of your names filling the room. 

Chris kept his mouth atop mine and intertwined our fingers as he continued to fuck me.

My mouth fell open, and I felt my pussy begin to quiver around his large cock. My orgasm was blinding, leaving me gasping and moaning into Chris’s mouth, giving him ammunition to go faster and harder.

With his bed rocking underneath us and the sound of wet skin repeatedly hitting each other, Chris finally released into my tender pussy. 

Pulling out slowly, his hand brought mine to his mouth, leaving feathery kisses on each knuckle. 

“You okay, mama?” he asks, “Do you need me to get you anything?”

With a shrug, I reply, “Can I please have another shot of tequila?”

[laundrybiscuits]

(Continued from this snippet! Content notes: police interrogation, homophobia)

“You don’t look gay.” The detective gives Steve a very obvious once-over. Steve tries to look gayer as subtly as he can. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Guess I’ll have to let my boyfriend know you don’t think I look gay enough to fuck him.”

The detective’s face twists slightly, like he’s smelled something bad. “No need to be like that. I’m just saying, I bet a good-looking guy like you could get a girlfriend pretty easy.”

“You’re not my type,” says Steve. He smiles with his teeth, even though his heart is going fast and he can feel his palms starting to sweat. 

The detective’s hands tense, and Steve wonders if he’s about to get hit, but they relax again and the detective sits back.

“Just doing my job,” says the detective. “Because, funny enough, we asked around with all your little friends, and it seems like you used to be a bit of a ladies’ man.”

“Things change,” says Steve. 

“In fact…seems like none of your friends ever even saw you talk to Munson before. Moved in different circles and everything. I remember what high school was like.”

The detective leans close. 

“So why would the captain of the swim team, a nice normal boy from a good family with a string of pretty girlfriends, ever—ever—stick his neck out like this for some murdering scum like Munson? That’s what I’m trying to figure out, here.”

“Don’t fucking talk about him like that,” says Steve. His mouth is dry. His pulse is thundering in his ears. “He didn’t kill anyone. He was with me the whole time. He’s—he didn’t kill anyone.”

“Hm,” says the detective. 

It takes a while for them to stop interrogating him. They keep asking him the same questions over and over, trying to trip him up. He asks for water and doesn’t get it. In the back of his mind, a hysterical little voice is shrieking Scoops Ahoy! I work for Scoops Ahoy!, but he manages to keep it locked down. Doesn’t let himself get baited, just keeps repeating that Eddie was with him the whole time and neither of them know anything. 

It takes a while, but it’s over eventually.

When he leaves the station, Eddie’s standing outside with Hopper and Joyce Byers, wearing a shirt and jeans that definitely belonged to Jonathan at some point. Eddie’s got his hands tucked into his armpits, looking antsy and tense, but he’s free and standing on his own two feet. It’s a pretty big upgrade from when Steve last saw him about a week or two ago. 

It’s almost too easy to go straight over to him, wrapping him up in a tight hug like they’ve had their arms around each other a million times. 

“Oof. Easy there, tiger,” laughs Eddie. “I’m, uh, still a little fragile.”

“Sorry,” says Steve, and loosens his hold. He doesn’t let go all the way.

“Come on, boys,” says Joyce. “I’m taking you two home. Steve, Eddie’s been staying with us, but we’re a little short on spare beds and it’s not great for his recovery. We’re moving him to your place until we can figure out something better, okay?” 

———

Joyce drops them off and helps carry in a few garbage bags full of Eddie’s stuff. There’s not that much.

And then the door closes behind her, and Steve’s alone with Eddie for the first time since—actually, maybe ever. 

“So,” says Eddie. “What…the fuck, Harrington.”

“Is that an actual question?” Steve says. He rolls his shoulders, trying to get some of the stiffness out. “I mean, didn’t Hopper and Mrs. Byers explain everything to you?”

“Kind of? I mean, I still think this is probably the worst idea of all time, but they told me—anyway, what I meant just now was a much more personalized and individual what the fuck. As in, why the fuck would you agree to any of this? You know you’re never gonna get another girl in this town to look at you now.”

“Dumping me already? Ice cold, man.”

Eddie groans and actually throws his hands in the air in frustration. Steve hadn’t known people did that in real life. 

“Jesus christ.” Eddie wheels around and grabs two of the garbage bags. “I can’t do this right now, I need to take a fucking nap. We will be discussing this later.”

“Still don’t know what there is to discuss,” says Steve, but he picks up the last garbage bag and leads the way to the spare room. 

Eddie pitches forwards onto the bed, arms outstretched and face mashed into the pillow. “Fuck yes, I am going to marry this goddamn mattress. Hit the lights when you leave,” he says, slightly muffled. 

For a second, Steve finds himself stepping forward with a hand outstretched to—do something. He’s not sure what. Touch Eddie’s hair, or something dumb like that. His face warms. He’s really glad Eddie isn’t looking at him and doesn’t see how he’s kind of just standing there with a hand out for no reason. 

He turns around, flicking the light switch on his way out, and doesn’t look back.

[thoughtsforsoob]

hiii! if its okay w you, could u do txt giving u princess treatment pls ? written imagine or texts idc! whatever u are most comfortable with. thank you~ 🩷 feel free to disregard if u aren't up to writing this i understand! <3

Giving their s/o princess treatment - TXT

A/n: thank you so much for requesting! I hope you enjoy this and that it meets your standards! This is gonna stay sfw because there was no specification so I’ll just stay on the safe side. Thank you once again. As always, requests are open!

Soobin

•His form of princess treatment is holding you close all the time and making sure you’re feed/have enough food

•One way he does this is by keeping snacks in his bag and also sneaking snacks in your bag

•You’re out driving to get to an amusement park and suddenly you start with “binnie! Im hungry”

•He points to his bag and smiles, “I packed you a little baggies with goldfish and one with cereal.”

•He sees the heart’s in your eyes and feels your appreciation

•Another way he does this is by taking you to eat/cooking for you every single time you two see each other or go out on a date

•Having a casual home date? He’s making sure to buy your favorite ramyeon and toppings to cook it for you when you arrive.

•Went for a couple day get away in Japan? He’s making sure to feed you your 3 meals a day and getting you snacks at konbini at night! (Buys you onigiri and coolish if you’re still hungry at night :)

Yeonjun

•I would say yeonjun, at least in my opinion, is within the top 2 most romanic members of the group

•This guys would do anything for you

•When I say anything, I truly mean it

•There would be days that you tell you you’re sick or your period is causing you horrible cramps, he would drop everything at work and come over to your place

•I would say his designated ‘princess treatment’ act would be always asking you what you want or need and buying you those things

•He wishes he could care for you more in a financial way but you don’t let him (slayyyy girl! Independence is so sweet)

•So, he loves to surprise you with essentials you were running low on (shampoo, fruit, toothpaste, skin care, etc…) and with luxury gifts :|

•He comes home all the time with something in his hands

•That most outrageous things he’s done is come home casually with a Birkin hand bag for you

•He’s all giggly “here you go baby! I thought it would be perfect for our trip to jeju this weekend!”

•“WAIT! We’re going to jeju this weekend? WAIT WHY DID YOU GET THIS BAG? Omg yeonjun I love you”

Beomgyu

•His definition of princess treatment is doing anything to make you smile.

•He tells you bad jokes when he sees you frowning, sitting alone in your bed

•“Hey baby…what do you call two ducks and and a cow?”

•“What :(“

•“Quackers and Milk :D”

•Smiles once you start to giggle and he’s just happy you can feel better because of him

•Anything things he does is make a fool of himself in front of anyone

•One time, you two were taking a nice walk in the evening. He saw you just kind spaced out. He knew exactly how to snap you out of it.

•He pretends to trip, shrieks and falls on the ground dramatically…embarrassingly

•“BEOMGYU are you okay???” You kneel down to help him up and he smiles

•“Do I have you attention now, cutie pie?” Smack some sense him :| dummy

•His ultimate card…doing aegyo for you in front of his members

•They all start to practically piss themselves laughing when they see beomgyu making silly faces and baby talking.

•He’s never gonna live it down but he doesn’t care because it’s gonna help lift his girls mood

Taehyun

•His definition of princess treatment is protecting you in any way he can

•What else are his muscles for (lmao his muscles are sooooo secy :(((

•He does that thing where if you’re walking on the sidewalks, he makes sure you’re on the side thats away from the road

•He wants to keep you safe from the cars :(

•He also get’s defensive when guys start looking at you 

•For example: you two went to a club once and tyun had to go to the bathroom

•He whines about leaving you alone but you push him away so he doesn’t hurt himself holding it

•A guy shorted than taehyun comes up to you and starts trying to talk to you, asking you questions about yourself (homie rlly thoughts his was a razz master 🙄)

•you’re trying to let him off easy by being short and not saying much but this dude is DETERMINED to speak to you more

•“I have a boyfriend. He’s in the bathroom right now. You don’t wanna be here when he come’s back.”

•“Doll, no the guy is gonna scare me away from talking to you.”

•He’s trying to put his hands on his hips and taehyun comes back, grabs the back of his shirt and pulls him back

•“Try making any sort of contact with my wife again and I’ll kick your ass”

•That guy runs off, scared out of his mind

•“That guy’s shirt was so fake. The material was so horrible.”

•“Wife :((“

•“Yeah, my wife. Let’s go get new drinks. On me.”

Huening Kai

•This man practically worships the ground you walk on

•So so sweet and caring

•He loves taking care of you both physically and financially

•He gives you a nice massage every day and helps you take baths and stuff

•Buys you all the skincare items you want and buys lots of masks so you two can have self care nights

•Speaking of self care nights…he does this silly little act where he pretends to be a butler for you “yes miss, I will go get you a ‘yummy drink’. Whatever you want”

•Rushes around to get you whatever you need during your self care nights so you don’t have to get up until you’re ready.

•He also loves to buy you things, kind of like yeonjun

•Takes you on surprise vacations to different places around the world

•He takes you to different cities for the weekend

•He also buys you souvenirs everywhere you goes or everywhere goes on tour

•He loves taking you to the arcade so you two can play games

•He’s the type of boyfriend that will stay at the claw machine with the prize you like until he get’s that prize for you

•He love’s you so much and your little plushie family

•He also loves late night drives especially when the weather is nice

[spnexploration]

Comments

Happy birthday Dean Winchester! Here's a quick one-shot I whipped up to celebrate.

This also fulfils the 'Plus Size' square of my @spnaubingo 2023 bingo card, even though it's 2024... I'm late, I know, but I still want to do some more of it!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus sized!reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: Couple of crap comments from a random, some not-great self-esteem and a drunk character, but nothing particularly bad.

Synopsis: A man you're interviewing makes some crap comments about your body, and Dean doesn't help. Can he make it up to you?

Supernatural writing masterlist

“Which one’s the father?” The sleazy guy joked. My stomach dropped.

“Excuse me?!”

“Oh, it’s alright love, I know the real father’s probably suffering somewhere alone while you’re off gallivanting with your workmates. I’m surprised he lets you out, really.”

The urge to punch the witness we were interviewing was overwhelming. Rather than ruin the case, I turned on my heel and marched out.

Fuck that guy. I’m not pregnant and I’m not screwing either of the Winchesters.

I heard Dean’s FBI agent tone of voice as he started speaking behind me. Great to see they were all just moving on with their lives, I thought sarcastically.

---

📱 Where are you? We’re going to the next witness’s house

A text came in from Dean. I read it but didn’t reply.

📱 You ok?

I sighed. Finally, he asks.

📱 Fine. I’ll catch up with you later

I replied. He sent me a thumbs up, I rolled my eyes.

I kicked at the ground and started the walk back into town. Sam and Dean would probably try and make me feel better, but I knew that wasn’t happening. I looked down at my soft, flabby belly that I’d tried multiple times to lose.

I walked.

---

I felt a bit absurd, getting tipsy this early. It wasn’t that I felt like I had to drink to get over the comment. It was just  that I’d gotten back to the motel room and was feeling a bit morose, and there was nothing to do. I’d tapped out of the case and I was bored. I went for another wander and this stupid town had nothing in it but a pub, and so somehow I’d ended up here, starting drinking a lot earlier than normal.

And now I looked like I was drinking my feelings, when I wasn’t.

 Not that there was anyone looking at me anyway.

Well, except in disgust. Who knew how many more people in here thought I was pregnant too. Probably thought I was harming an unborn baby, right now.

Fuck them.

---

“You know there’s still a monster on the loose?” Dean said gruffly, a frown on his face. I guess it’d been easy to find me given how few things there were in this town.

“You struggling without me?” I didn’t think I was slurring too much, but his expression did not improve when I started talking.

“How you going to fight one off like this?” he gestured to me.

“You think a few drinks are why I’m fat?” I said sarcastically.

“I’m not calling you fat, I’m calling you drunk.”

“Right,” I said with an eyeroll.

“Come on, get in the car,” he said, trying to tug my arm.

“Fuck off Dean! I can drink if I want to. There’s nothing else to do in this shithole, anyway.”

He dropped my arm and stomped off to the bar.

I turned back to my drink. Sam came and sat opposite me. You can’t escape the bloody Winchesters.

“Hey, you ok?” he asked with his puppy dog eyes.

“I’m fine. I had a free afternoon, I came to get a drink. Is that fucking crime now?”

“I meant about what happened with the guy. You seemed pretty upset.”

“Surprised you could see that, you were both so busy being silent.”

“Didn’t you hear Dean?”

“How could I hear Dean when he wasn’t saying anything?”

“No, he laid right into the guy.”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I heard Dean get right back into his FBI voice as I walked off.”

“Yeah, he was still in character at first, told the guy that he needed to speak respectfully to Agents. And then when the guy was still a douche he got a bit more Dean and threatened to punch his lights out if he didn’t shut up about you.”

I laughed into my drink. I was sure Sam was embellishing, there was just no way Dean would care that much about someone being mean to me.

Speak of the devil, Dean appeared again, tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He put the water in front of me.

“Thanks, but I don’t accept drinks from strangers,” I said sarcastically.

“I’m not having you hung over tomorrow and being a liability to the case, drink the water.”

“I don’t remember electing you.”

“Jesus, you’re even more belligerent when drunk. Just drink the water and stop moping.”

“I’m not moping!”

“The guy was an asshole, no one thinks you look pregnant. But you can’t just drink yourself blotto and get yourself killed every time someone says something mean to you.”

I stood up, grabbed the glass of water and upended it all over Dean’s face. Then I marched out the door.

The effect was a little ruined by my drunken stagger, though.

---

Sam caught my arm as I got outside. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“I walked myself here, I can walk myself home!”

“I’m pretty sure you were walking in a straight line when you got here though. Come on.”

I let him tug me to the Impala. He must’ve grabbed the keys off Dean before chasing after me.

“He’s just worried about you,” he said gently as we were exiting the carpark. “Doesn’t want you getting hurt.”

“That does not give him a free pass to behave like that.”

---

Dean stood over me, a glass of water and a couple of painkillers in his hands. “Morning, sunshine. Need some relief?”

I gratefully reached out. Man, I did not normally drink that much.

“What time is it?”

 “Time to work the case.”

I groaned, “Can’t you do it without me?”

“No, come on, back on the horse.”

“It’s not the horse that’s the problem, it’s the dog that bit me.”

“I did tell you to drink water,” he said smugly.

“Fuck off!” I threw my pillow at him. He easily deflected but wisely left me alone after that.

I groaned and got off the couch I’d been sleeping on, slumping to the bathroom. The boys were sitting around the tiny table, already dressed and looking at their laptops.

Sam was gone when I came out, freshly showered, dressed and feeling slightly more human. I looked at Dean with a clear question on my face.

“He’s gone for coffee, thought you could use some.”

“Thanks.”

“I, uh,” Dean continued, more hesitantly, “I owe you an apology.”

I crossed my arms across my chest. An apology from Dean was a rare thing, but I was wary it was going to end up being a backhanded insult instead. I often felt like I needed to protect my heart from being hurt by him.

“I was worried about you getting hurt when I saw you were drunk. But I just tried to solve the problem, I didn’t actually talk to you, and I,” he paused, biting his lip, “I shouldn’t do that.”

“Nice to see I’m just a problem,” I replied sarcastically. I wasn’t sure why he was riling me so much, but I still felt so hurt and angry.

He stood up and came over to me. “You’re not a problem,” he said quietly, trying to look into my eyes. I ducked my head away from the intensity of his look. “And I am sorry that asshat upset you.”

“I didn’t get drunk just because some guy called me pregnant, you know.” I could hear how defensive I sounded, despite my best efforts not to.

“It’s a shitty thing he did anyway. You’re beautiful.”

I laughed mirthlessly.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly. “Don’t put yourself down all the time.”

“Dean, your idea of beautiful is tall, thin, busty and great hair.”

“That’s not true.”

“Well, they’re all thin at least.”

“Who are ‘they’?”

“The women you sleep with, the women you hit on.”

“I can think of many women I’ve hit on who aren’t ‘thin’, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Suuuure,” I said with an eye roll.

“But I haven’t hit on many women lately, been distracted by one in particular.”

“Let me guess, beautiful?”

“Absolutely.”

“My point exactly. It’s ok Dean, you don’t have to ma-” Dean’s fingers found my chin, nudging it up so I would like at him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t made you feel it.”

I stared at him, mouth agape. Absolutely stunned into silence.

“And I’m sorry again that I was a bit of a dick yesterday.”

His face came even closer, watching my reactions.

“You’re my weak spot,” he whispered.

“No, I’m not.” I put my hands on his chest, “Dean, this isn’t funny, don’t tease me.”

He dropped his hand from my chin, looking hesitant. “Sweetheart, I’m putting my heart on the line here, I’m not teasing.”

My hands slackened.

He edged a tiny bit forward.

His tongue darted out and back in. I couldn’t stop staring at his lips.

Was this even real?

How was this happening?

His hand came up to cup my cheek.

I leant forward.

The world suddenly sped up again. Dean moved in, closing the gap between us and bringing his lips to mine. I lost myself in the tenderness of his touch, the softness of his lips, the  exploration of his tongue and mine.

A sudden noise made us pull apart. Sam was standing in the doorway, cardboard holder with coffees in one hand and the other on his hip.

“I’m happy for you guys and all, but we still have a case to work. You can pick this up later.”

.

.

.

Dean Winchester taglist

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[moonstruckme]

soft sirius x reader pleasee 🙏🙏 either established relationship or fwb/friends to lovers vibes you decide

Thanks for requesting!

modern au

fwb!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

“You ought to start locking the door,” Sirius calls out as he enters your flat. You tug out one earbud to hear him better. “I could be a serial killer.” 

“Right, sure,” you snark lightly, washing dishes double-time. “And you ought to start calling before you come by, but we both have our bad habits.” 

“Like you’d pick up if I did.” He saunters into the kitchen, taking in the mess and then pretending not to notice. He leans against the counter beside where you’re working. “I just thought I’d drop in and see if you have a bit of free time.”

“A bit?” you laugh. “Looking for a quickie, Black?” You stack more dishes on the drying rack, jolting forward to steady them when a bowl on the top threatens to tumble. “Sorry, no time. The kitchen’s been a mess for days, I have to clean up before my flatmate gets home from class and murders me.” 

“But she seems like such a nice girl,” Sirius muses, taking the precarious bowl and drying it with a towel. “Anyway, doesn’t your flatmate’s last class end at, like, six? It’s hardly three.” 

“It’s weird that you know that.” It’s not, really. You know a freakish amount of details about his life, too, but it’s easier to keep up the casualness of this arrangement if you pretend you’re not quite as close as you are. You go into the living room, collecting dirty dishes and talking whilst you walk. “She does, but I have to revise my essay, and if I don’t get this done before I start on that, it won’t be finished before she gets home. I’ll forget, I know it.” 

“Hm.” Sirius takes the kettle down from its cabinet, nudging you aside to fill it from the tap. “Why do you have to revise your essay tonight?”

“Because it’s due in three days,” you explain, taking his place at the sink as soon as he’s out of the way to dunk more dishes in the soapy water. “And I have another essay due in four days, so if I don’t work on this one now, I won’t have enough time to finish that one. And besides those, I’ve got my regular work to keep up with.” 

Sirius is quiet for half a second, which is unusual enough that you look over to check that he’s still here. He’s giving you a look you know too well, one dark brow and one corner of his mouth quirked up suggestively. “Sounds like you need to blow off some steam,” he says. 

You try to scoff, but it comes out a snort. “Oh, fuck off. And quit looking at me.” 

You don’t look up from your task this time, a particularly stubborn piece of food requiring your attention, but you can tell Sirius is pouting at you from just his voice. “A cruel demand, and one I can’t abide by. Sorry, gorgeous.”

“Freak.” You continue scrubbing at the dish. Finally, you give in, using your fingernail to attack the crusted-on piece of mystery food and doing your best to ignore the grossness of it. It comes off, but your nail breaks. “Damn it!”

“Hey.” The teasing tone drops from Sirius’ voice. “Take it easy, dollface. You’ve got time.”

It doesn’t feel like you have time. There’s been alarm bells going off in your head since you’d woken up on Monday morning and realized all you had to do this week, and there’s no time for any of it. There’s a dangerous pressure building behind your eyes, but if there’s one thing you definitely don’t have time for, it’s a breakdown. You force a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. 

“I know,” you tell Sirius. “Thanks.”

“Maybe you should take a break,” he suggests lightly. 

You cut a knowing look his way. “I do not have time for a shag right now, Sirius.”

He grins, showing his teeth. “Not what I was thinking of, but as always, let me know if you change your mind.” You roll your eyes, and his smile drops. “Just, like, an actual break. You seem kind of stressed.” 

“I am,” you say, like duh, “but I don’t have time for a break either. I’ll be less stressed when everything is done.” You just have to make it until then. 

Sirius goes quiet again, but you don’t bother wondering about it this time. It’s fine if he’s worried about you. You want him to be, a little bit. You want someone to see how hard you’re trying, even if it doesn’t look like your efforts are producing much. You’ll wash the dishes, and your flatmate will still be annoyed you’d let them pile up in the first place. You’ll turn in your essays, and they’ll be just okay enough to pass. You can work all day, from the second you wake up until you fall dead asleep, and sometimes it feels like it’s for nothing. But what’s the alternative? Stop, and watch your barely-together life fall apart completely? No, you just have to get through this week. Just this week, and then you can rest until the next hard week. 

You stack the last of the dishes on the drying rack, and your hand has barely left before the three on top slip off. You lunge forward on instinct, like you think you can catch them. You can’t. The crash is loud, but you barely hear it. You bring your hands to your face, cupping your mouth between your palms. Your horrified exhale blows hot air back onto your chin. 

“Okay, it’s okay.” Sirius’ voice is soft, as is his touch on your shoulder, encouraging you back from the glass shards. “You’re alright, just be careful, yeah?”

“Fuck,” you say, and you try to laugh, but what comes out is a dry sob. “Oh my god, fuck me.”

“I think we’ve agreed now’s not a good time,” Sirius jokes, taking a dish towel and using it to scrape together the bigger pieces. “Do you have a broom, love?” 

You shake yourself out of your stupor. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll grab it.” 

You step over Sirius, and he makes a half-suppressed sound of alarm when you come too close to the glass but takes the dustpan when you hand it to him. You sweep up the glass, going farther than necessary from the site of the damage to ensure no one ends up with an impaled foot later on. Sirius dumps it in the trash. 

“Thanks,” you tell him, trying to reorient. “Okay, I need to—”

“Oh, would you look at that,” Sirius cuts you off, going to the stove. “It appears I’ve put the kettle on. Must be habit. Sit and have a cup with me, doll?” You give him a look that says you know what he’s doing, and he shrugs like he doesn’t care. “Just for a few minutes. Please.” 

You relent perhaps too easily, picking out mugs for the both of you and accompanying him to the living room. You curl up against the armrest of the couch, and Sirius settles in next to you, his thigh touching your hip. They’re your usual spots, but what’s not as routine is the arm he wraps around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You sip at your tea as if you don’t notice. The warmth is soothing as it goes down your throat and seeps into your insides. Sirius turns on the TV, and it’s obvious by now that you’ve been lied to, he doesn’t intend to let you go after a few minutes, but you’re losing the will to hold him to it anyway. You let your head lie on his arm as he begins to trace slow, smooth shapes into your shoulder. 

And though it feels nice, you say, “I don’t need you to coddle me.” 

You feel Sirius shift to look down at you, and you tilt your head to meet his eyes. “But you’ll let me,” he says, “won’t you?” 

You don’t know how to answer that. Sirius doesn’t seem to be waiting for one, pressing a casual kiss to your head and then focussing back on the screen, his doodles on your shoulder never faltering. You rest your head on him again, and you suppose that’s answer enough. 

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap six/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

I Don’t Know You, But I Want To

summary: Sometimes curiosity has consequences.

wc: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ series for future chapters, mentions of death, hints on how Steve’s wife died, bouts of self consciousnesses.

authors note: sorry guys, you knew this chapter had to happen. i promise i’ll make up for it! enjoy a few more easter eggs from @carolmunson ‘s orange colored sky in here. I’ve had so much fun talking about these two old men’s friendship with you!

🌇 <- chapter five -> chapter seven

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

End of June

You didn’t realize when Steve asked you to water his plants, that he meant in just three short days after the almost kiss in his kitchen. The opposite schedules the two of you seem to always work made it so you hardly got a glimpse of him before he and Bandit disappeared to Starved Rock for what you learned was their annual camping trip.

The Good Morning Tough Girl texts started the next day after your number exchange, waking you up with a kaleidoscope of butterflies twisting and turning in your stomach and a smile so big it made your cheeks hurt. It helped you get over only getting to physically see him one time through your living room window before he left. Your phone had vibrated at your feet while you watered your now flourishing Ivy thanks to the new curtains you were proud to say were installed by yourself. You chanced a glance down at your lit up screen, his name flashing with a text that said: How’d I never realize how pretty my view is from the front yard?

The corners of your mouth twitched, flames licking underneath your cheeks when your eyes caught his out your window. The big dopey smile that took over his face made you giggle as he waved eagerly, dressed nice like he had been the morning you ran into him last week. You wiggled your fingers, biting your bottom lip at the way his dark navy button up looked tucked into the waist of his black slacks. The leather belt looked nicer than the last one, the silver of the buckle blinding in the setting sun. His hair was freshly done, free of any signs of those big hands of his. The stubble on his jaw was gone again, but you learned that was never for very long. 

Another buzz: Going to dinner with a client, wish it was fish tacos with you instead.

Steve feels like he won the lottery when he can see the way your face lights up from his spot in his front yard. Eddie’s voice rings loudly inside his head, sticking to every single one of his negative thoughts like glue telling him it’s okay and he finally starts to believe it, especially when he gets a text back from you.

Maybe next time 😉

It’s thunderstorming the day you go over, the key tucked away in a lockbox by his door. He gave you access by texting the code the night before with a promise to take you to dinner as a thank you when he got back. The nerves that dance inside you feel like they did the first time you came here when you stand in front of the stained glass of his front door even though he’s five hours away. 

It’s quiet, the lively energy from a few nights ago gone with the man. The cedar of his candle still lingers thick in the air and you can’t help but inhale deeply. It smells like him. You leave your shoes and umbrella on his front porch, closing the door gently like you were scared to wake someone up. The pattering of the rain on his windows fills the silence, your shoulders dropping in the serenity. Pulling your phone from your back pocket you look through your texts with the list of the rooms the plants were in. 

Only three — his office and living room on the first floor and his bedroom on the second.  

The coffee white oak floors creak under your socked feet as you take your first apprehensive steps past the entryway. He left the watering can on the kitchen island just like he said he would, your skin pebbles when you’re brought back to the last time you were in here. The sun fights to shine through the thick storm clouds outside, making the lighting that bleeds through his windows soften everything up. The water from the sink hits the metal of the can, mixing perfectly with the rain. 

You wish he was here.

The can is heavy in your hands when you stop at the doorway of the living room, the contents inside sloshing around and daring to spill onto his floor. You curse under your breath with a pause to take in the room you only got a glimpse of before. There’s an electric fireplace, tall black steel that takes up most of the wall next to the sliding glass door that leads to his small backyard. 

Two large beige area rugs cover most of the wood floors in here, a cream frayed trim lining them. Bandit’s bed sits big, fluffy and dark brown nestled by the fireplace, giving him a perfect view out the window. Strands of his lighter hairs leave behind evidence that this might be his favorite spot in the house. A woven basket filled with various chew toys that look freshly tossed in isn’t very far from it. The rain comes down harder but you can still see the spots of lime green littering the grass where the rambunctious German shepherd left his tennis balls. Spoiled.

The cognac color of his leather couch set is rich, and it shines even in the dim lighting like it was freshly lotioned. It looks like the kind of comfortable where the cushions mold against the weight of your body - soft, inviting, the one in the middle looking a little more worn in than the rest. This must be Steve’s favorite spot. 

Your eyes meet the 65” TV mounted to the wall in front of it and realize why. The coffee table matches the dark color of the floors. The candle that was the culprit for the smell of his house sitting in the middle next to three remotes lined perfectly next to each other.

There’s a long, taller companion table that sits at the other doorway that leads back out to the landing of his staircase. Framed pictures, bottles of various liquors of all shades and crystal cocktail glasses cover the top of it. 

What does he think of your place?

You try to push the intrusive thought down as you make your way to the lush Monstera plant that sits in a white pot on top of wooden legs next to the sliding glass door. Its leaves hang heavy, clearly taken care of. The deep emerald of it reminds you of what Steve’s eyes look like sometimes. The soil takes what you give it greedily, barely leaving enough for the few smaller plants that rest on shadow shelves along his gray walls. A few of them make you stand on your tiptoes to reach.

Curiosity wins on your way to refill the can, crossing the room to look at the framed pictures. You aren’t surprised when you see one of Eddie and Bandit as a puppy, it looks like the first day they brought him home. Eddie’s dimples show in a bright smile as he looks at the camera with Bandit’s big bubble gum pink tongue pressed sloppily against a clean shaven cheek.

The other is of Steve and a curly haired boy at a college graduation, they both look like they were caught in the middle of laughing at something. You can’t help your own smile when you look at it. Steve looks a little younger, a little less gray in his hair like it had only just started. He’s wearing wire rim glasses, and that crisp white dress shirt you like him in so much. He looks happy.

The last one is of Steve and Bandit. A selfie taken at sunrise, Bandits tongue sticks out and you swear he’s smiling just like his handsome owner that has him pulled against his side. A part of a tent peaks over his shoulder and you wonder if this is where they’re at right now.

You’re hit with the smell of his cologne when you open his office door, your thighs pressing together when you imagine him sitting in the big black leather chair behind an even bigger, matching colored desk. Glass cased baseball memorabilia takes space on one of his walls, along with plaques of achievements from his job. There’s framed pictures of him shaking hands of baseball players you couldn’t name, but you’re sure a normal person who liked sports could. There’s a tall bookshelf on the other side of the room. The spines all glossed, bright bold wording of sports memoir’s, marketing guides, and what looks like college course advertising books.

The floor of this room is carpeted with the same color as the area rugs in his living room. Your footsteps are a little more careful as you try not to spill any water on it as you make your way to the three hanging spider plants in the window that overlooks his front yard. 

Your nose catches a hint of the cigars you know he smokes as you get closer to his desk. He must keep them in here. A silver closed MacBook sits on top of it, another baseball — only this one is signed and kept safe in a glass case. There's a Polaroid of Bandit with a cubs hat on his head with a laughing Peach barely visible behind him. The obvious closeness of the three of them makes you realize how much he let you into his world the other night. 

A world where he wanted to kiss you.

You curse under your breath when you almost spill water on the carpet, too lost in realization of what this could be.

When you reach your final destination on the second floor, you stop at his closed door. Your hand hovers over the knob, heart hammering so hard in your chest like he was waiting for you on the other side. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you exhale through your lips - willing your nerves to give you mercy. There’s a soft click when you turn the knob and the quietest noise from the hinges when you push it open.

The crisp white of his fluffy duvet that covers his king size bed, mutes the gray of his walls. The olive green throw at the end of it that matches the area rug under the bed, the warmth of the color relaxes your senses. Your breathing evens out, your heart rate slows down. 

There’s another dog bed at the foot of his that matches the one downstairs and you wonder how often Bandit really sleeps in this one at night. The lack of hair on it compared to the other one tells you not very often. Your cheeks tingle fiercely when you see the mirror you got a glimpse of his bare chest through, your eyes quickly finding the bathroom he had come out of. 

“Jesus Christ,” you grumble to yourself, trying to push back the memory while standing alone in his bedroom. 

There’s another Monstera by his window that you can see your bedroom out of. The last one on the list. You have to pass by another large dresser on your way, even more pictures sit on top of it, taking up the space that was left next to a cherry wood watch box. Another cedar candle sits behind the framed pictures, the scent lingering in the air despite not being lit.

The plants take what’s left in the watering can, and you peek out the window just to see what he sees. The navy curtains you’d hung up are half open giving you a perfect glimpse into your room, the pile of dirty laundry you plan to do after this perfectly visible. You gulp audibly.

The can swings loosely in your hand when you walk to the dresser, a smirk already forming on your lips at the thought of what these ones will tell you about him. Your eyes land on one of him in between Eddie and Peach on what seems to be their wedding day, both of them placing sloppy kisses on either cheek. The big dopey grin face doesn’t hide the tear stains. The White Chapel sign behind them tells you it’s Vegas, and the way Steve is dressed as a much sexier Elvis only confirms your suspicions. 

Next to that one is a picture of Steve, only he looks really young- fresh out of high school young. Biting your lip into a smile at the volume of his hair, he’s leaning against a maroon BMW with pants so tight you're sure they made all the girls flustered. You shake your head with a roll of your eyes before taking in the brown curly haired girl sticking her head out of the back seat window. Another girl with honey waves pushing her head out in the small space next to her, you swear you can hear the giggles that are so evident on their faces.

Thunder cracks loudly outside, bringing you back with a jump. You’re dreading the short walk home. You glance out the window wearily before bringing your attention back to the little bit of Steve scattered over the top of his dresser. Then you see it. You see her.

The frame that holds the picture is silver, the words ‘always and forever’ etched across the bottom. It’s taken somewhere tropical and Steve looks like he’s your age in it, his jaw somehow sharper, his hair blonder. His smile is so big it shows all of his teeth, a bright yellow short sleeve button up that makes his skin look golden. The top two buttons undone revealing the chest hair you’d gotten a few glimpses of. He’s glowing. 

She’s just as beautiful, big bright green eyes and dark chestnut hair that falls in effortless curls down to her chest. They look natural, like she didn’t have to do it herself. She’s tucked into his side in what looks like seats in the back of a boat, the coral dress that flows over the curves of her body makes your stomach turn. The big rock on her hand rested purposefully on his chest tells you exactly what this picture is.  

Jealousy twists green in a tight knot inside of you, guilt you weren’t expecting makes you feel nauseous when you see what’s hanging off the corner of the frame. A dark teal rubber bracelet with the words Team ALS Chicago 2022 in white font.

Lightning flashes white hot, making something gleam and catch in the corner of your eye from his watch box. Taking a closer look, the tightening of your chest at what you find makes the air leave your lungs all at once when you see their wedding rings tucked in between the soft white cushions inside the box. 

The reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks. Steve had a whole life before he met you. A life with someone beautiful, someone he didn’t fall out of love with, someone who didn’t break his heart, someone who, if things were different he’d still be with.

If you moved next door in that reality, you’d just be someone he’d maybe wave to from time to time, not paying any mind to the thirty year old girl already suffering through a midlife crisis next door. The girl who moved to the city with no friends and no plan. The college drop out. The opposite of the well put together woman that belonged hanging off his chest like that, with a ring on her finger that could pay off your credit card debt and then some.

How can you compete with a ghost? The nagging feeling that you’ll always be second best already stings and he hasn’t even picked you yet.

You try to blink away the tears that threaten to spill out, feeling stupid for being this upset over what started off as a silly crush, it really shouldn’t hurt this much. The cedar that comforted you feels like it's suffocating now. Like he’s here. The thought of bringing the watering can down doesn’t even cross your mind when you leave it on the dresser to make your escape.

The breath that comes out through trembling lips is shaky, still, you're proud of the fact that you haven’t cried yet. 

Tough girl. 

When you open the front door, it's windier than when you first got here, the sun starting its disappearing act for the moon. It makes the summer storm match the one brewing inside of you. You shove your feet into your shoes before pulling the door shut behind you. You lock the key back into the box, before grabbing your umbrella. Your vision goes blurry but you don’t give into it, telling yourself it’s stupid to be so upset. The buzz of your phone in your back pocket is what stops you from taking the first step off his porch. 

Steve

Found a spot with some service on our hike, just wanted to check in. Hope you got into the house okay. Bandit says he misses you.

The dam that you’d worked so hard to build breaks, tears falling down your face like the rain falling from the sky. You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand before you reply to him for what you tell yourself is the last time. It’ll hurt less like this, it’s better for both of you this way. At least that’s what you try to tell yourself before you hit send.

Plants are watered 👍

beta’d by: @superblysubpar

dividers by @newlips

chapter seven

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for calling my boyfriend babygirl

let me clarify upfront: my boyfriend has never expressed discomfort with this, and says he likes it, so it’s potentially a non-issue, but it’s still bugging me. this has been ongoing for a little over a month and i feel like i’m going nuts. forgive me if any of the language i use here isn’t correct, i don’t know how else to get the ideas across - feel free to correct me if i could be saying things more inclusively. sorry that this is rambly also. small nsfw warning (nothing too explicit)

i (22m) have been dating my boyfriend (19ftm) for a little over a year. i’m cis and he is trans. admittedly i’m not like… the most well versed in trans issues but i love him more than life itself so i really try to be respectful of him. he was bullied pretty severely in highschool, not just for being trans but his gender identity was no small part of it, and even though he’s not super dysphoric day to day he’s definitely got some boundaries about it. there are certain compliments he likes and some that upset him (he doesn’t enjoy being called pretty or cute, typically) and he’ll snap at people for referring to him with feminine names or titles like “sis” “girl” etc even if it’s done jokingly.

the thing is he’s rarely, if ever, done that with me? i call him pretty and cute all the time (because he is) and he’s always been fine with it. admittedly the first time i did it i didn’t know it was something that usually bugged him, but he’s never said anything to me about it. everytime i have he’s seemed happy. he’s very outspoken, i pretty firmly believe if it was a problem he’d say something about it - again, he has no issues being firm about this boundary with any of his other friends and family. i was doing this before we started dating, so after we started dating it sort of bled into pet names

again, it was never something i asked him about expressly, but at some point i started calling him, like… princess, babygirl, etc. i only ever do this in private, when its just us or when i’m pretty sure only he can hear me, for a few reasons. my boyfriend doesn’t really pass (entirely his choice. he doesn’t bind his chest and he doesn’t want any gender affirming surgeries or hrt - again, he’s not super dysphoric day to day, he only gets upset when it’s commented on and he can bounce back from it pretty quickly) and again, it seems like it’s always made him happy. at the risk of tmi, it especially seems to make him happy in the bedroom, which is another reason i avoid dropping these pet names in front of anyone else. it’s private and i don’t think it’s anyone else’s business.

so. to put this mildly. we went to a house party together recently and i got super smashed. it was a pretty big party so we were sticking by each other, and when you’re drunk and your partner is there… well, yeah. i was admittedly being pretty handsy. he didn’t tell me to knock it off or anything, he was reciprocating. at some point he started talking to his best friend from highschool (19mtf, i’ll call her Z) so i reigned myself in but i was definitely still drunk and horny and being clingy. i don’t know Z all that well - she and my boyfriend are very close but she can be pretty harsh, and i appreciate all she does for him so i like her, but we never talk unless he’s there. i’ve had maybe one one-on-one conversation with this woman ever.

they’re talking. i’m also there. i’m not trying to rush him but i definitely want to get home. the conversation lulls and i take the chance to ask my boyfriend if he wants to leave soon, and because i am aforementionedly drunk and horny i drop one of those earlier pet names. before he can respond to me, Z snaps at me. she says not to call him that and that i was being a creep - this alarms me and was kind of frustrating since i wasn’t even talking to her, and i recognize i’m not in a headspace to argue? with her? so i just tell my boyfriend to come find me when he wants to leave and i wander outside. he finds me about 5-10 minutes later and we head home.

it doesn’t get brought up again that night but a day or so later i text Z to ask her what she meant by me being a creep, because it was bugging me. she says that it’s obvious i’m fetishizing my boyfriend’s gender identity, that the fact i call him those things brings up major red flags, etc. i tell her that my boyfriend doesn’t have an issue with it. she says it doesn’t matter and asks me why i want to call him those names in the first place, and posits that maybe i don’t actually want to be dating a boy - that i just like the idea of dating a boy and actually want to be with a woman. i’m gay, so this is VERY out of pocket to me. i tell her my boyfriend is not a woman and end the conversation there, but it DOES stick with me. so, very belatedly, i ask my boyfriend what he thinks of all this. i adore him so much and i hate hate hate the idea i could’ve been treating him like that, even unintentionally. he says the pet names never bothered him and he’s never felt like that, and that he’s fine with me specifically doing it because he trusts me and knows i don’t see him as a girl.

so, whatever. she has a problem but me and my boyfriend don’t. i try to move on, but the next time i see her she asks if i’ve apologized/reflected at all. i tell her no, because my boyfriend said i have nothing to apologize for and it seems like a non-issue. she is now avoiding me, refuses to be in the same room as me, and will declare to anyone who asks that she doesn’t want to be near someone who fetishizes trans people and she doesn’t feel safe around me. my boyfriend tries to talk to her but she insists i need to apologize at the bare minimum, but to who? even if i did apologize to my boyfriend i wouldn’t mean it and he wouldn’t want it. Z is his long-time best friend, i can’t exactly go the rest of our relationship just avoiding her. so i have no damn idea where to go from here.

on some level, i worry she’s right? i honestly don’t know why i started calling him those things. i think it started as a joke but i just kept doing it when i noticed he seemed to like it. in hindsight that was maybe shitty of me, but i trust him to tell me when something i do is making him uncomfortable. it’s not like i can do that over, but if he ever told me to stop i would. it’s definitely true that if you saw my boyfriend on the street you’d probably assume he’s a woman, but i’ve never been attracted to anyone who actually identifies as a woman before. i’ve only ever liked men, and no matter what he looks like he is a man. this whole situation did make me think about how i think about him, and i’ve realized that, like… i want to have kids with him one day, and ideally i’d like him to carry them. ideally, but id never make him. if he decided tomorrow that he wanted to medically transition and go the whole nine yards i’d support him. he’s my whole world, i just want him to be happy. but does the fact i want him to carry children prove her right?

i’m just. confused. i feel like i’m running myself in circles. Z knew him in highschool so she was there when bullying over his gender was at his worse, so i get why she’s protective. she’s also trans herself so she undoubtedly understands this stuff better than me. but i’ve heard it’s normal for trans people to have complicated relationships with gender, so it’s normal to be okay with gendered language from some people and not others (like only letting close friends use certain pronouns for you). i figure it’s like that, but it’s not my gender so… i don’t know. should i just stop calling him those pet names altogether, even though i know at this point he enjoys them, to be safe? am i an asshole for calling him those things in the first place / would i be an asshole if i kept doing it?

What are these acronyms?

[redrose10]

Chapter 11! Thank you for all the comments and messages. It is appreciated! I love hearing everyone’s theories.

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 2,815

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Tag List: @gimeow @kam9404 @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken @igot7fairlyoddparents @jalexad @drrookie

You swung open the door unaware of the information that had just been disclosed., “Alright guys, I got some pork and beef and a few different sides. I hope that’s enough. It smelled amazing in there so I think this will be good.”, you said closing the door behind you after returning from the restaurant. When you turned around you could tell the atmosphere felt different than what it was when you left. Yoongi was staring off into space while fidgeting with the hem of his tshirt and Jin seemed very jittery as well. You started unloading the food onto the table which Jin graciously thanked you for getting. He ate so quickly you were afraid he was going to choke. Yoongi on the other hand wouldn’t touch the food. Even when you grabbed the chopsticks and tried to feed him he shook his head and refused to eat.

“I’m going to go make a couple phone calls and see if we can get this all finally cleared up.”, Jin said before wiping his mouth with a napkin and walking out the door.

“So anything new happen while I was gone?”, you asked taking a bite of the food.

Yoongi felt the room spin again making him feel sick. All he could do was shake his head.

“Hey are you okay?”, you asked concerned with how much his demeanor had changed since you left. He gave you a tight lipped smile and nodded. You continued to eat in silence sneaking little peaks of him while he sat there picking at the skin on his thumb.

Eventually Jin came walking back in and sat down with a smile, “So as mentioned earlier the police are willing to cooperate with the cash payment and be forced to drop all charges against Yoongi. Now as far as Suri and Hwan are concerned they are willing to just drop everything as well as long as Y/N agrees to not press charges against Hwan for what happened at the auction.”

You pondered your options for a moment. You looked Yoongi over and noticed how pale he looked. The circles under his eyes somehow looked darker than they were when you left. You could only imagine how you looked. You were both exhausted physically and emotionally and just wanted to go home. You were also smart enough to know that Suri must have bigger plans and this was just some kind of a distraction or something.” As much as I’d hate to see that creep walk free I’m at the point where I just don’t want to talk about it any more and I just want it to be over with. So if that’s what gets us out of here then that’s fine but make sure he knows how much of a low life he is and if he ever comes anywhere near me or Yoongi again I promise that I won’t be so generous.”

Jin lightly chuckled and nodded, “I’ll let them know. I’m sorry that it came to this Y/N. I’m going to have Jimin give you a ride home as it’ll still probably be a couple hours for everything to get cleared with Yoongi, you know paperwork and boring stuff.”

You looked over at Yoongi to make sure he was going to be okay but he wouldn’t even look at you.

“Yoongi do you want me to stay? I really don’t mind.”, you asked secretly hoping he would say yes.

“You should go back to Jimin’s.”, was all he responded with his eyes still trained on a crack in the wall.

“Alright well call me if you need anything.”, you said to both of them but mostly Yoongi. Jin opened up the door for you with a smile and pointed to where Jimin was waiting down the hall so you could make your way there. After he made sure you found what you were looking for he turned his attention back to Yoongi.

“Look you have to keep it together. Y/N is smart. She’s going to know something is wrong right away if you keep acting like you’re on another planet.”

“What did Suri say?”

“She’s willing to give you one month to figure something out. After that she’s going to the media to announce she’s pregnant with your child and that you’ve completely abandoned.”

Yoongi scoffed, “I didn’t abandon her. She never even told me she was pregnant.”

“Yoongi are you sure you are the father? I mean is it possible that she’s lying? You did say you haven’t slept with her in a while. Does the timeline match up?”

“I mean we always used protection but you know things can happen. She’s an evil desperate woman so of course she could be lying as well. I don’t know any more. How far along is she?”

“Well according to this ultrasound it appears that she’s about twelve weeks at this point.”

Yoongi took a deep breath and groaned.

“So I’m guessing that means the baby could be yours.”, Jin wondered out loud.

“The last time was probably about twelve weeks ago. I don’t really remember at this point. Jin what am I going to do? I don’t want to loose Y/N. Not now. I was just starting to make some progress on getting her to give me a chance and I was really trying to earn her forgiveness. This is going to mess everything up.”

Jin chuckled, “Look I’m going to tell you this not as your lawyer not as a business partner but as your friend because I think you need a strong dose of reality. You have no one to blame for this mess but yourself. The day we met Y/N I told you to give her a chance. I told you she seemed like a sweet genuine person who would treat you right and be everything you needed. But did you listen? NoooOOOoo! You’re Min Yoongi and no woman is ever going to tie you down again all because one woman broke your heart years ago. You always have to prove that you’re unbreakable. You’ve continually broke Y/N’s heart over and over and she still looks at you with compassion and love. She still worries about you even though you don’t deserve any of it. Now it’s time for you to grow up and face your consequences and you should hope and pray that this baby isn’t yours and that Y/N will still be understanding once it’s all said and done. But for now let’s just keep this information between us. Hopefully we can somehow convince Suri to have a prenatal DNA test done and if we’re lucky the baby isn’t yours and Y/N will never have to know.”

“And if the baby is mine?”, Yoongi asked already fearing the answer.

Jin scoffed, “Well then let me be the first to congratulate you Min Yoongi. My gift will be in the mail.”

Jin packed up his briefcase, “I’m gonna do a final check and make sure you’re good to go. I’ll call you in the morning. Go home and try to get some sleep. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Yoongi watched as Jin’s broad shoulders made their way through the door. Not long after one of the officers came by and told him he was free to go so he grabbed his jacket and phone and went outside where a car was already waiting for him.

Just as he was about to get in the vehicle he heard the sound of heels hitting concrete and then someone spoke making his skin crawl and his ears burn.

“I told you that it wouldn’t be that easy to get rid of me.”

Yoongi groaned and turned around, “Really Suri? This is what you’ve come down to? You are a disgusting vile person.”

“Well if it isn’t the pot calling the kettle black. You’re no Prince Charming yourself Yoongi. I don’t remember you calling me vile when you were begging me not to stop as I was riding you in your bed while Y/N was in other room asleep or the time I was hiding underneath your office desk with your dick still in my mouth because Y/N came to surprise you with a lunch she made. You are just as vile as me, if not worse. I believe the word that Y/N used was despicable.”

“How do you know about that?”, he looked at her through narrow eyes.

“I have my ways Yoongi. I know a lot more than you think.”

“Fuck off Suri.”

“Is that any way to talk to the mother of your unborn child? Is that how you’d talk to Y/N if she was pregnant with your baby?”

Yoongi stared at her with disgust as a car pulled up behind her. She swung open the back door before turning to him, “You have 30 days Yoongi. 30 days to figure this all out or I go to the media and tell them about our soon to be little family.”

The car sped off leaving him to stand and stare before his own driver got out and asked if he was okay. Yoongi nodded and got in the backseat.

The next morning you woke up feeling exhausted and sore. Your headache was so bad that you even made some coffee hoping the caffeine would do the trick. Jimin was still asleep and you were glad for the silence. Checking your phone you found nothing exciting just a message from Yoongi letting you know he was home and to call him when you got up. You went to hit his contact when you remembered another important call you had to make. Scrolling through your phone you found the name you were looking for and clicked dial. It went to voicemail. You tried again but right to voicemail. Finally you just decided on a text.

You: Hey Namjoon, just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. I was shocked to see you at the police station last night. Just wondering what that was all about. Give me a call when you can!

You tossed the phone down on your bed as you had a feeling you wouldn’t be getting a response any time soon. You decided to take a shower and get ready before giving Yoongi a call. Once you finally dialed his number he picked up on just the second ring.

“Good morning Y/N, how are you feeling today?”

“Alright I guess. How are doing?”

“Not bad.”

There was a long silence before he continued,

“So umm Y/N, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight. I have something I wanted to tell you.”

“Oh yeah sure. What time were you thinking?”

“About 6:00 if that works for you? That way we can eat and talk about some things and then you’ll be able to get back to Jimin’s before it gets too late.”

“Actually Yoongi, I was wondering if maybe I could move back in with you?”

Yoongi felt his heart skip a beat, “It’s up to you Y/N. This is your home too so you’re welcome back any time.”

“Okay great! I’ll see you later Yoongi.”

“Bye Y/N.”

Yoongi tried to fake a smile as he said goodbye. He never thought you’d ever want to willing move back to the home you shared. Unfortunately he knew that once he told you his news, you wouldn’t want to stay in the same room with him let alone live in the same home together.

Yoongi paced back and forth around the kitchen. He had tried to busy his mind all day by cooking an intricate dish he thought you’d like. He fixed his tie for probably the twentieth time. Was he too dressed up? Maybe he should’ve just went with jeans and T-shirt like he originally planned. He knew he put on a little too much cologne especially considering the history the two of you had with it. He took a peak at the clock to see if he had enough time to shower and change again when panic set in. It was twenty minutes after six and you were late. You were never late. He began running through every possible scenario.

What if you changed your mind? What if you found out about the baby before he could tell you? Oh my god what if Suri hired a group of assassins to find you and…?”

Before his mind could finish the thought he heard the door click open. Quickly he ran over breathing a sigh of relief as he found you taking off your jacket and hanging it on the rack. “Hi, Sorry I’m late. I stopped at that new bakery to get us some desserts and I think half of Seoul also had the same idea.,” you chuckled handing him the box of various pastries you had picked up. He noticed your bag sitting by the door causing his chest to ache. You really were prepared to move back in and he was going to chase you away again.

Once back in the kitchen he set the box down on the counter and went to ask you what drink you’d like when you surprised him by wrapping your arms around his torso squeezing him tight. You took a deep breath to inhale the familiar cinnamon and vanilla scent. A little stronger than usual but you had to admit that you kind of missed it in a weird messed up way.

“Hey are you okay?”, Yoongi asked concerned when you didn’t pull away.

“Yeah the last few weeks have just been a lot.”, you mumbled into his chest. He squeezed you a little tighter knowing that this was probably going to be the last hug he’ll ever get from you.

Once you pulled away with slightly blushed cheeks he invited you to take a seat at the table while he brought the food over.

Yoongi picked at as much of his food as he could stomach but he just tried to enjoy the moment with you knowing that as soon as he started talking things were going to take a turn for the worst. Even though Jin was adamant to not let you find out about the pregnancy right now, Yoongi didn’t want to hide anything from you any more. He barely slept all night, instead tossing and turning weighing his options but ultimately decided that it was best for you to find out from him personally instead of later on or god forbid from someone else entirely because he had no idea who else knew about his situation at this point.

“Hey are you okay? You seem really out of it?”, you asked pulling Yoongi from his thoughts. He nodded with a tight lip smile.

“You said you had something you wanted to talk about. Is that where your brain has been?”

Yoongi set his chopsticks down and took a big breath trying to calm his nerves. You noticed the slight shake to his hands which made your insides churn because this couldn’t be good news.

“Yoongi whatever it is just tell me. At this point there’s not much that will shock me.”

He chuckled to himself because you had no idea.

“Y/N, I don’t really know how to tell you this so I’m just going to come out and say it but I uh I might have gotten Su-“

Before he could finish your phone began to ring. The contact showing as Namjoon.

“I’m so sorry Yoongi but it’s Namjoon and I’m worried if I don’t answer it I won’t get in contact with him again. I want to find out why he was at the police station last night.”

Yoongi nodded and you picked up the phone greeting Namjoon a little more friendly than you probably should have. He couldn’t hear what was being said on Namjoon’s end but you seemed to get more and more upset the longer you were on the phone with him.

“Well yeah Namjoon I was just wondering why you were at the police station. It seemed a little suspicious given who you were with.”

*Silence*

“How did you meet her?”

*Silence*

“Mmhm and how long has that been going on?”

*Silence*

“Are you fucking kidding me? What do you mean Suri is pregnant?”

You glared over at Yoongi and he felt his stomach drop. Looks like the news was already broken to you.

“Okay text me the address. We’re on our way.”

You slammed your phone down on the table so hard you’re pretty sure you cracked the screen.

“That’s it. I’m gonna kill her. I can’t do it any more. She’s lucky she’s pregnant or I would go over there right now and strangle her myself.”you said pacing back and forth.

Yoongi looked at you wide eyed. He’d never seen you act like this and he was torn between being scared, being nervous, and also kind of liking it in a way.

You turned your attention back to Yoongi making him jump a little, “Come on Yoongi. We’re going to meet Namjoon at his sisters house. He said he has some important stuff to tell us about Suri and how he ended up getting her pregnant.”

[atinylittlepain]

Hi! I hope you’re well! I have a Joel request please!Reader collects keychains from the different states/places she travels. She’s a bit introverted, and she and joel are both quiet and don’t talk too much, nut she’s a good listener. After a close call with a clicker, reader feels like a burden to joel. Joel reassures her that she’s not but she’s still not sure. Joel gives her a keychain that he finds during their travel & it’s a happy ending. Also can there be an age gap lol

Hope this isn’t too much, but please feel free to make any changes/adjustments :)

Thank you!

sweet anon, this idea is so lovely - i hope i've done it justice <3

Pieces of Our Path - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

warnings | 18+ canon-typical violence, angst, joel is a ding dong, and then fluff bc it's good for your cholesterol :)

.........................

“I’ll be right back. Wanna go check in that gas station.” “Tell me this ain’t what I think it’s for.” All she can do is smile as a blush creeps up her neck because it is exactly what he thinks it’s for. Joel huffs at her expression.

“I-I haven’t found one for Wyoming yet. Think I oughta get one since we’re living here now and all.” She knows it’s silly, frivolous, maybe even downright stupid, but she’s been collecting them for so long now, finding one for nearly every state they’ve crossed through, that she needs her collection to be complete. 

Joel had often given her an exasperated look when she’d show him a new one she had found, never asking why she held onto all those keychains. They don’t talk much, and she supposes that’s why they’ve worked so well together, managing to get Ellie across the country, and when that went sideways, limping back to Tommy’s place, where they find themselves living now. It’s the first time they’ve been settled anywhere together, ever, and they’ve both been working out their stir-craziness with patrol shifts and scavenging trips. 

“Just make it quick, alright? I’ll cover the outside. You holler if you need me.” She nods at his gruff words, already hustling over to the crumbling gas station and shouldering her way in through the rusted door. It’s dark inside, slants of light pock-marking the mossy tiles and shelves. Her fingers flex around the handle of her knife as she creeps further into the store, moving toward what used to be a checkout counter. After so long on the road, she knows where to look for these things. Joel had once joked that the keychains seemed to find her more than she found them. Sure enough, there’s a few scattered over the floor, but before she can get a better look at them, she’s startled by a loud screech coming from behind her.

It happens so quick, all she can do is let out a yelp as she gets slammed to the ground by an infected, all clawing hands and gnashing teeth as she struggles to keep it at bay. Her knife had skittered out of her hand at the impact, and as she tries to push the creature away with little success, fear starts to creep up her spine that this might be it. Just as suddenly as it attacked her, the creature stiffens before slumping down on top of her, but its body is quickly shoved off of her to reveal Joel standing over her, knife in hand. There’s a frantic look in his eyes that she’s never seen before as he kneels down between her legs and helps her sit up. The rough palms of his hands scurry all over her, checking her neck, her arms, her legs for bites. His face slackens just slightly when he finds no evidence of infection, cupping her face in his palms.

“Are you hurt?” She takes a steadying breath as his eyes hold her in place, her hands wrapped over his forearms.

“I’m ok. Joel, I’m so–” He doesn’t let her finish that sentence.

“C’mon, we need to get out of here.” He helps haul her up on unsteady feet. She feels her stomach drop when she glances back at the mottled body of the clicker, quick to hustle out of the gas station and back onto the road. Joel doesn’t say anything more, an unspoken agreement that they need to head back to Jackson. But she can see the way his hands clench around the strap of his rifle until his knuckles turn white, the hard set of his jaw as he walks alongside her. It doesn’t take a genius to see that Joel Miller is angry, and she knows it’s all her fault.

She spends the whole hike back cursing herself in her mind. She had put herself in danger, and in turn had put Joel in danger, for such a stupid, useless thing. Harsh thoughts are quick to burrow into her head, namely that Joel would be so much better off with someone smarter, more careful, someone older, as his… she’s not even sure what she is to him. They’ve been traveling together for so long now, but she’s hesitant to think of them as anything, even if they do end up tangled in the same bed most nights, something they excused as a simple human need for closeness, nothing more. She supposes that they’ve been a quiet comfort to each other, but not anymore, not now that she’s failed him. 

Anxiety rages on in her mind, and Joel’s icy silence does nothing to assuage it. Even when they get back to Jackson, he won’t so much as look at her, trudging straight to the bar. She lets out a heavy sigh and keeps her head down as she shuffles off in the opposite direction toward their house.

It’s quiet when she gets home, and she figures Ellie must be out on her own shift still. She goes straight to her room, the room she has been spending so little time in, Joel usually coaxing her into his bed because they both sleep better with each other near. She had stashed the other keychains in a crumpled shoebox she found in the closet, and would often get it out to thumb through the evidence of her wanderings. Normally, it was a comfort to her, being able to trace her past in these plastic relics, but now, looking in the box, all she feels is sick to her stomach. She shoves the box back into the closet, slamming the door shut and swallowing hard around the thick heat building in her throat.

A wave of exhaustion passes over her, the adrenaline from her close encounter finally wearing off, and it’s all she can do to collapse onto her bed in a tight curl as the first tears start to fall.

..,

She wakes with a start, light hands shaking her shoulder, and as she squints her eyes open, she finds Ellie hovering over her, a furrowed look of worry across her face. She lets out a ragged sigh as she sits up, Ellie leaning back on the bed.

“Are you alright?” She presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, bloodshot and tired from crying, but she nods at Ellie’s question.

“I’m fine, kid. Just tired, that’s all.” Ellie clearly doesn’t buy that, eyebrows shooting up at her.

“You sure about that? Saw the old man down at the bar, and you and I both know he only goes there when he’s really pissed.” She huffs, shaking her head and wishing Ellie didn’t know her and Joel so well.

“We had a bad shift. I, um, did something stupid.” Silence settles over them after she finishes murmuring her answer, but Ellie is quick to break it.

“Whatever it was, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. You want me to go talk to him? I can knock a little sense into his head.” She rests her hand on Ellie’s knee and offers her a small smile.

“That’s alright, kid. Um, it was pretty bad. We’re both ok– but, yeah– it was bad. Joel’s right to be angry at me.” Ellie settles down, pressing her lips into a thin line as she nods.

“Well,  I’m glad you’re alright at least. Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do?” Her smile broadens at the girl’s words. Ellie had been and continues to be a bright spot in her world, and she muses briefly that if not for her, she would have already packed up and skipped town this afternoon, something she thinks would certainly be welcomed by Joel.

“No, I’ll be ok, kid, but thank you. Think I’m just gonna lay low tonight.” The girl bites her lip, clearly not convinced by her words, but she still nods.

“Um, ok. Well, in that case, is it alright if I go to movie night tonight?” 

“Is Dina gonna be there?” Ellie’s grin is contagious, and she laughs lightly at the girl’s flushed reaction.

“It’s alright kid, you should go. Just be safe, huh?” Ellie surprises her just a little with her quick hug before she gets up off the bed, digging her hands into her jean pockets.

“I’m glad you’re alright. And, Joel’s just– emotionally constipated, you know? I’m sure he’s not really mad at you, he’s just acting like it. But he’ll calm down. He likes you too much to be such an asshole to you for long.” That makes her really laugh, and the feeling is a relief, a weight off her chest, if even just briefly.

“Thanks for that, kid. You should go, they’re gonna start the movie soon I bet.” Ellie offers her one more smile before leaving. She slumps back in bed the moment she hears the front door close.

…

It’s much later when she’s woken up again by much harsher hands jostling her. It’s completely dark in her room, and she groans as she fumbles to switch on the lamp on her nightstand. She certainly wasn’t expecting to see a clearly drunk Joel Miller hovering over her. 

“Why’re you in here?” His words are thick and slurred, his southern accent tugging low in his throat to the point she can just make out what he’s saying. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes watery and wavering as he looks at her. She’s never seen him this drunk before.

“I-I was getting some sleep. Joel, how much have you ha–” She’s cut off as he slumps over her where he had been sitting on the edge of the bed, his cheek smushing into her collarbone and the mussed waves of his hair grazing her chin. His words are even more slurred as he speaks now, hot breaths fanning over her throat.

“Y’never sleep in here. Wan’ you with me. Should always be with me.” He hiccups at the end of his words, jolting her in his heavy hold as he lets out a long sigh. She’s never seen him like this and has to swallow the shock sitting in her throat as he continues to mumble to her.

“Scared me so bad today. Don– don’t do that again. Need– need you– I need you.” It’s breaking her heart, listening to him say these things– things she had often imagined hearing him say to her– but only because he’s drunk enough to not give a shit. She huffs, tamping down her sadness and instead letting anger simmer in its place. She presses hard on his shoulders to sit him back up as he grumbles at the movement, his head slumping back on his neck to look at her as she stands up.

“Where you going, pretty? Jus’ stay with me.” He practically whines out the last word, and she’s heard enough. She dips under his one arm to hoist him up off the bed, stumbling a bit as he leans most of his weight on her.

“C’mon, Joel. I’m gonna get you to bed.” He huffs as they start to shuffle down the hallway to his room.

“Will you stay with me, darlin? Ple– please.” Now she knows he must be drunk off his head, because in all her time knowing him, she has never once heard Joel Miller say the word please until tonight. She grits her teeth, hauling them both through the doorway to his bedroom.

“I’ll stay with you, alright? Just– just sit down.” She gracelessly plops him on the side of the bed, a hard “oof” leaving his mouth as he sits down. She moves over to his bathroom to get him a glass of water, having swatted away his grabby hands with a murmured “be right back.” 

By the time she comes back into the bedroom, she finds Joel slumped back on the bed, his legs dangling off the edge as he snores lightly. She sighs, setting down the glass before moving over to him and taking off his boots. He mumbles nonsense as she swings his legs up onto the bed, folding the comforter over to cover him up as best she can. 

She doesn’t stay.

…

It’s late the next morning when she finally goes downstairs. It had been a fitful night of sleep, and she had gone back to Joel’s room a few times to check on him, finding him still passed out each time. She stops by his door on the way downstairs and sees that he’s no longer in bed. Padding into the kitchen, she finds coffee brewed, but no sign of him or Ellie. She figures Ellie spent the night with Dina, but is still left wondering where Joel could be. As she shuffles through the house, she finally catches a glimpse of him in the living room window, sitting on the porch out back. She has to take a steadying breath before she steps outside.

He doesn’t say anything as she sits down next to him, neither of them glancing each other’s way. 

“How’s your head?” He scoffs, still not looking at her as she glances at him.

“About how you’d expect. Suppose I deserve it though.” She doesn’t say anything to that, keeping her eyes focused on her fidgeting hands in her lap. It feels like there’s cotton in her mouth, she keeps trying to say something else, but gets stuck before she can even get the first word out. Luckily, Joel breaks the silence again.

“Need to apologize. Acted a fucking fool last night and you shouldn’t have had to deal with that.” She swallows thickly before responding, her voice an uncertain murmur.

“I-it’s alright. I’m sorry too– for yesterday.” He finally looks at her, brow furrowed.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Yes I do. You wouldn’t have had a reason to drink so much if I hadn’t fucked up so badly yesterday. I understand. I’d be angry too.” His face slackens at her words and she can barely meet his unwavering gaze.

“What’re you talking about? I wasn’t angry– I was fucking terrified. Seeing you– I just– I couldn’t– fuck, the thought of something happening to you– I was shaken. And I handled it like an idiot, and I’m sorry.”

“Maybe you’d be better off without me then.” A heavy silence falls, but Joel quickly breaks it with a scoff.

“Don’t say shit like that.”

“I mean it.” “Well don’t. I wouldn’t be better off without you, goddamn it. I’d fall apart if I lost you.” Sober, this is the most he’s ever said about how he feels for her, and it makes her heart race in her chest.

She’s been keeping her eyes on her lap, but is forced to look at him as he turns her face toward him with a broad palm along the arc of her jaw. His eyes are soft, searching, and it’s all she can do to let out a sigh of his name.

“I can’t lose you, darlin. Pfft, better off without you. I’d be hopeless without you, huh?” She gathers up whatever courage she has in her, bringing her hand to the arc of his neck to coax him closer as she leans in. It’s a fluttering little thing of a kiss, her lips barely brushing his before she’s jerking away, but Joel steadies her with his hand still cupping her cheek, thumb brushing just under her eye.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ha–” he surges forward and this kiss is certain in what it demands, what it means. She all but melts under his touch, mind hazy when he pulls away and presses his forehead to hers.

“I’m old– and no good for you– but fuck, I’m selfish, darlin. And I need you. Tell me you’ll stay with me, please.” There it is again, that rare word. She smiles.

“I-I need you too, Joel. I’ll stay. I’ll always stay with you.” He presses another kiss to her lips, both of them grinning into it before sitting back as he wraps his arm around her shoulders to tug her into his side.

“I, um, I have something for you.” She cranes her neck to look at him with a furrowed expression. He huffs as he digs into the front pocket of his jeans, holding his palm out flat in front of her. When she sees what he’s holding, she lets out a spluttering laugh. It’s a keychain, in the shape of Wyoming.

“When did you–”

“I picked it up as we were getting out of there. Figured it shouldn’t be for nothing, right?” She laughs again, shaking her head at the smug grin on his face. 

She lays her palm over his, tangling their fingers together with the keychain pressed between their hands. They smile like idiots at each other. She knows that wherever the next keychain comes from, she can count on Joel Miller being there with her.

[lanabuckybarnes]

Gift Wrapped.

18+ only. Minors DNI

My friend and I were having a discussion the other day about just how hot a man in military uniform is, how they’re all perfectly gift wrapped for you, it reminded me of this short thing I’d wrote.

It’s almost 5am here but you all have been blessing me with likes so lemme bless you with this.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem bodied Reader (no use of Y/N)

Words: Under 1000 (definitely know what it is)

Warnings: mention of alcohol consumption, Smut, Bucky in his uniform. If I’ve missed anymore let me know

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

The drinks had well and truly been flowing. Bucky’s squad had just recently been rescued and in celebration you were all dragged to a bar.

You had to admit, Bucky looked mighty swell in his uniform, spare the hat, which had been sat aside him for the rest of the evening. His hair was tussled and a small blush decorating his cheeks as he spoke away to Steve. His shoulders looked exceptionally wide and his waist teeny tiny, it was hard not to run your eyes over his figure.

He caught your eyes staring, his lips quirking up into a small smile and his eyes running over your own body before giving you a sly wink. Your body was all of a sudden crying out for a refreshment.

As you approached the bar and made small talk with the older bartender, Bucky approached you from behind, snaking his arm around you waist.

“Hey sweetheart, I missed you” his deep voice scratching your brain in the most perfect way and that deep sandalwood cologne and whiskey scent only added to the fuzziness in your mind.

“I missed you too Buck, it’s been a long time” you replied, stealing a quick glance of his body wrapped in that pristine suit now that he was much closer.

“That it has” He didn’t hide the way his eyes slinked down the curves of your body protected by your dress.

Suddenly he was dragging you to the bathrooms.

His plump lips smacked themselves onto yours, giving you no respite or room to breath. His soft breathy moans escaping his mouth and falling into your own as he explored with his tongue. He wasted no time in removing your layers of clothing, the dress pooled at your ankles and your silk panties were tucked away neatly in his pocket. He flipped your body over, giving himself a nice view of your ass and wet core.

His uniform however remained intact, albeit a little disheveled.

“Fucking missed you sweetheart” he groaned in your ear, his fingers coated in your sweet nectar as he plunged them repeatedly into your heat.

“You’re so tight again, you think you can still take my cock? Huh?” His free hand moving from palming his cock to gripping at your once neatly up done hair.

“Ahh Buck, please!” you begged, an orgasm approaching quicker than you’d like or expected.

“What baby say it”

“Fuck me, please Buck”

His fingers left your body, leaving your hole empty and clenching around nothing. You heard the sweet jingle of his belt buckle and zip and then he was over you, his large frame against your back, the gold embellished buttons sending shivers down your body as they ran down your spine.

Lining himself up with you, he ran the head from your hole to your clit, rubbing himself against the bundle of pleasure before making his way back up to your core. After a quick kiss to your temple he pushed his length inside you, hands gripping your hips with bruising strength. He was right, the abandonment of your pussy had left it tight, the thickness of his cock stretching you out wonderfully leaving you feeling completely full.

“Shit sweetheart I don’t think I’ll last long like this” he moaned erotically into your ear, the pleasure from his brutal pace evidently just as overwhelming for him as it was for you.

You moaned loudly, you could feel yourself slowly creep over that mountain, desperate to reach the peak and tumble over the sweet cliff of pleasure.

“Shit that’s it cum nice and hard for me baby. That’s it” he encouraged, dropping his right hand to play with your little clit.

It took around two measly strokes of your little bud for you to almost scream out his name in pleasure, his own orgasm coming over him as well. He pushed himself as far as he could into your hole, groaning a string of words along with your name through gritted teeth, his release hitting the farthest depths inside you.

“Fuck sweetheart” he laughed breathlessly, his sweaty head resting between your shoulder blades as he regained his strength.

You weren’t much better, the feeling of his cock slipping out with your combined juices almost enough to have you orgasming for a second time. Your weak knees suddenly struggling under the weight of both of your bodies.

“Remind me to wear my uniform more often” he quipped, gazing lovingly at you from the mirror over the sink before fetching something to clean you both up.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

40s Bucky is my literal oxygen, uhh man I just can’t. I write so much about him but get scared because I don’t like the way it’s worded and stuff. Just the SUIT the MAN, I need to go to sleep.

I hope you enjoy my mediocre writing x

[y0urm4m]

BIKER CHRIS

(I feel like biker is just Chris coded soo)

Warnings:swearing,suggestive content,fem reader,nickname “ma”,smut,smoking.

:y/n never really found her self getting along with Chris, but she always felt there was something deeper that drew them back to each other and that darn bike.

It was a Friday evening, like any other she was sat at her window with a lit cigarette in her left hand her phone in her right scrolling through instagram. No new notifications she huffed to herself, what is nick doing he hasn’t answered in hours he had messaged her first asking about meeting up and having a night watching films and catching up on stuff. Bear in mind they talked all day everyday so not much was new, so they’d probably just scroll on there phones eat loads of junk and drink some energy drinks. She inhaled the last toke of her cigarette before putting it out, slowly becoming lost in thought her mind wondered to some of the times nick and her had hung out it was usually fun apart from the times Chris had ruined it by being a self centred, obnoxious jackass.

Speak of the devil, y/n’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of a motorcycle. Christopher sturniolo’s motorcycle to be in fact. The sound of the accelerator made her stomach do flips and her thighs squeeze together, but the abrupt sound of the motorcycle slowing down outside her house unexpectedly, caught her by surprise. She slowly peeked out the window hoping not to be seen: as she sat in her pyjama shorts and jumper. She finally had caught a clear glimpse of Chris slowly turning the key to his Honda CBR 1000RR: specifically orange and black probably being the only reason Chris bought it in the first place. Chris arose from the bike putting the visor on his helmet up as he began to walk towards y/n’s front door. Instantly y/n jumped up pulling her shorts down as much as she could, although the bottom of her butt still was out for Chris all eyes to see. She slowly made her way towards the door to unlock and see what Chris wanted, she reached her hand for the door handle hastily opening it. As She stood with one leg crossed over the other looking up at Chris, who had finally realised she had answered the door. Before even saying hi he took of his helmet brushing his hand through his hair. Her thighs squeezed together once again but this time Chris was there to catch her in the act, he looked her up and down smirking at the tiny shorts she had on. In response to his smirk she rolled her eyes thinking Chris was just trying to be a funny smartass. “What do you want Chris?”she spoke slightly annoyed. “No need to use that tone with me ma”he replied cockily moving slightly more towards her. “Christopher if you don’t tell me why you’re here I will willingly slam this door right in your face!”she snapped back. He raised his eyebrow at that witty remark. “Fine, fine I’ll tell you why I’m here if you stop being a cynic,” he chuckled. She didn’t look to impressed with that answer so he decided to finally tell her why he was mysteriously at her door at 5:40pm.

“I got forced to come and pick you up by Nick because Matt was out, is that a good answer?” He finally explained. “Right and how comes Nick didn’t tell me this before like he usually does when Matt picks me up, plus I could have walked,” She replied. “And in no way am I ready, so Chris just come in I’ll be like 20 minutes maximum.”she added on sighing, reluctantly opening the door letting the man in. As she turned to walk inside she had merely forgot her back side was on full display for Chris and anyone within a 10 metre range. Chris’ jaw dropped slightly at the free site in front of him, his hormones getting the best of his as his joggers began to tighten and his face flushed a slight red tinge. She turned to look at him. “You alright there Chris?”she asked in confusion. “U..uh yeah.. all good”he stuttered, looking down at the floor. At this point Y/N was confused Chris was never like this he’s usually loud and extremely annoying so she decided to brush it off her shoulder and get on with getting her stuff to head out. That wasn’t even the worst part now they both had to go upstairs so she could get her stuff, y/n was first to walk up the stairs Chris tried his hardest to not look at her ass but he just couldn’t help himself catching a glimpse of her ass and through the side of the shorts the orange panties she had decided to wear. “Fuck..”Chris mumbled to himself. “What was that Chris?”she looked over her shoulder at him. “Nothing.”he replied as they made it to her bedroom. Y/N decided it would be best to switch into some joggers for the ride to the house as it was definitely too cold for shorts. She quickly shoved her cigarettes,phone and some other stuff into a rucksack and made her way to Chris who stood leaning against her hallway wall phone in hand. The air was filled with sexual frustration even if neither of them could tell. “Chris we can go now.”she announced walking downstairs as Chris sheepishly followed behind as he was still painfully hard.

Once they were outside Chris faced towards Y/N. “C’mere ma.” He beckoned her over to him, she looked up at him as he grabbed his helmet slowly sliding it over her head. “Be better if you kept that on ma, can’t have you getting hurt!” He joked. There was that cockiness she remembered, She just nodded, as she slowly sat on the motorcycle behind Chris. “You know your gonna have to put your hands here ma?”he said pointing to around his waist. “I’m not doing that.”she replied shaking her head. “Yes you are or we’re not going anywhere,”he said, she just sat there staring at him obviously not impressed with what she was having to do. He slowly became impatient so instead of asking he just grabbed her hands and placed them on his waist. “Now I suggest you leave them there, ma.” He said, turning on the engine to his motorcycle and he began to drive off towards the house. The start of the trip was quiet Y/N sat in silence her hands still in the same place as they were when they first left, but a sneaky idea had come to mind. She slowly slid her hand down from Chris’ waist to his thigh, moving her index finger is circles. “Y/N?”he said sternly, he never called her by her first name it was always ma every time. But she ignored him still making tiny circles on his thigh, Chris’ cock was awfully hard now to the point who couldn’t take it. He sped up driving as fast as he could to the house slowing down as he got on his street. He pulled into the garage parking but before Y/N could go through the door he stopped her, pressing the button closing the garage door. “Ma, after what you did on the bike I suggest you do something about this.”he whisper spoke, as he pointed down to his boner. All y/n did was squeeze her thighs together she didn’t move almost frozen in place. He walked towards her tucking the loose hair behind her ears pulling her face forwards, her lips meeting his connecting perfectly. The kiss deepened tongues entwined together, this lasted around 2 minutes before chris pulled back his hands rubbing up and down her waist. “You sure you want this ma?”he asked. She nodded. “Words ma, I need words.”he replied. “Yes, Chris im sure.”she whispered, thighs clenched and eyes half open. He smiled a bit before looking at her asking for approval to undress her, she nodded this time he didn’t ask for words he was to impatient and began pulling her sweatpants down and taking her top of. Leaving y/n in her bra and undies, Chris groaned at the sight. “Can I take yours off?”she asked quietly. He just nodded, she began pulling Chris’ top over his head and pulling his joggers down. She bit her lip looking and the obvious bulge in Chris’ boxers. “I can’t wait anymore ma, I want you bent over my bike now.”he told her. She reluctantly bent over the bike her ass facing Chris. He slapped her ass, she moaned quietly in response. “You like that ma?” He asked smirking, but before she could even answer he slapped her ass a bit harder this time cause her to jolt slightly forward. “I’m gonna ask you to be quiet for me ma, can you do that for me yeah!”he whispered into her ear slowly pulling her orange panties down. She spread her legs a bit in response as Chris then pushed his boxers down, spitting on his hand pumping his dick a few times before aligning himself up. “You ready ma?” He whispered in her ear lustfully. She nodded, with that he pushed in leaving no time to adjust to his size. “Chris..fuck.”she moaned out, putting her hand behind her to brush it through the side of chris’ hair. He kept thrusting in her at the semi fast pace. As the garage filled with the sound of skin slapping, Chris’ groans and her moans. The aroma of sex filled the air as well as their noses. “Fuck your so tight ma, gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that.”Chris groaned in her ear. “Chris.. fuck Im gonna.. cum”she cried out as the feeling of her slowly coming undone took over. Her legs shaking slightly and her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

“You think you can cum for me one more time ma?”he asked her softly.She nodded, this time Chris’ pace was a bit faster, y/n becoming even more of a moaning mess at the continuous feeling of Chris’ thrusting into her and the fact she had just came. His pace slowly became messed up as he became closer to his edge. “Fuck.. ma I’m gonna cum,”he groaned out gripping onto her ass. “Gonna fill you up ma”he whispered as he came undone filling y/n up with his cum. As they both stayed in place for a few minutes catching their breath, Chris slowly pulled out. “We should probably head in, before nick thinks something bad has happened.”Chris said putting his clothes back on, leaving y/n getting re-dressed. Y/N grabbed her phone, 1 new notifications from Chris.

Meet me later in my room and we can talk properly

ꜰɪɴɪᴛᴀ

That was honestly so fun to write if people do like it I’m kinda tempted to possibly make a part two or something!

Tiny taglist:

@freshsturns

[hanyjar]

rain sucks. (i'll make you love it.)

isagi yoichi x reader

summary: your story with isagi yoichi, told through five moments, a bus stop, and rain.

notes: [6.25k words.] idk if isagi lovers still exist, but in the wise words of taylor swift: this is me trying ;)

disclaimers: cursing, reader hates the rain and likes to talk, break up with an ex (not isagi) in part one, loneliness in 'one' and four', self doubt in 'five' but isagi is quick to comfort, fluff -> angst -> fluff, rain kisses, romantic gestures, strangers -> friends -> lovers.

edit: isagi likes rain here (as opposed to the info given in the light novel T_T so very sorry ahh)

masterlist.

ONE.

It has been a bad day.

No. That’s putting it too lightly. Today, June 20th, is the very epitome of shit.

The heated argument you had with your now ex-partner continues to linger in your mind. “I think we’ve been wasting our time” plays on loop like a broken record, and you wonder if you look as lifeless as you feel.

It’s quite a silly thing: how a single person can make you feel as if the whole world is ending. It’s even sillier how you devoted all this effort into a relationship that is nothing but a waste of time to them.

Waste of time.

Even after they crushed your already tattered heart and left it for dead, you can’t help but think how much easier it would be if you feel that way about them too.

Love is a stupid, stupid thing.

You appreciate mother nature for taking pity on you, at least. Rain in the midst of summer has never been your favourite thing - the air always being a little too hard to breathe and the dreary sky a tell-tale sign that the bus is going to be late that day. But today, you feel okay towards rain. The tears from the heavens above do well to cover up your own; the droplets become friends, accompanying you in your forlorn state. For once, you don’t complain about the broken roof at the bus stop letting rain in. For once, you find comfort in the very thing you hate.

And you cry a little bit inside, knowing that your ex has managed to break that part of you as well. 

“...Bad day?” A voice breaks you free from your stupor.

You turn to your left, and you feel your breath being taken away. 

There, a stranger stands. From first glance, the boy is nothing but ordinary. His navy - almost black - hair did little to set him apart from the rest of the crowd, and he dons the same Ichinan uniform that you (and the multitude of students in the area) wear. But there is something within his cerulean eyes. A fervour of sorts, one that is begging to be unleashed for the whole world to see. To the untrained eye, he is the very essence of average; to a trained eye, the stranger is utterly beautiful.

…Or, that’s what you would say, if he didn’t look like a wet cat. Not the ones featured in those animal shampoo commercials, but one of the sad, pathetically cute, on the verge of tears, literally sopping wet ones. Your breath is taken away, simply because the boy is a mess.

You can’t help but think that this stranger has had a shit day, too.

“Like you have no idea.” You say, voice drenched in exasperation. “Though… You look like you’ve been through a nightmare yourself.”

“A nightmare is an understatement,” he cradles his left temple with his palm. You laugh at his antics.

“Try me, then. Nothing can be worse than getting dumped, right?”

The smile on his face immediately falls, and you can’t help but feel a little bad for dropping a bomb like that to a stranger. “My god.” He exhales, “I am so sorry.” His crestfallen expression makes you feel as if he truly means those words.

“Don’t be. You didn’t know.” Your eyes look down to the soiled concrete. “I’ll be fine, time will pass, after all.” (You say that more to yourself than him, if anything.)

The bus stop is silent for a while, and you feel as if you’ve ruined everything - for the second time today. It’s almost as if the bus stop boy knows, and is eager to change that.

“Well. My name is Isagi Yoichi,” he begins. “And my soccer coach told me that I am mediocre at best; that I don’t have what it takes to do what I love professionally.”

You look into his eyes once more, and the fervour that was once there is now shrouded in a sense of agony you know all too well. The same agony that is, without a doubt, present in your eyes too. Words fail you. And for the years you have shrugged as the therapist friend, you find yourself at a genuine loss.

“...I guess we’re in the same boat then.” You muster out, lamely. “But are you seriously going to let some old geezer tell you what to do with your life? I mean, he’s literally the coach of a no-name highschool team.” Your hands make their way onto Isagi’s, clasping his in-between yours. “Your coach has no right to tell you that when he’s failed at that dream already. Don’t let your coach dictate your worth; don’t let him stop you from shining. Ever.”  

He stares at your hands for a second, eyes widened and mouth agape. You are quick to detach yourself from him. “Forgive me,” a sheepish smile grows on your face.” “I speak too much sometimes.”

“No need,” Isagi’s hand moves to rest on the nape of his neck. “Thank you. I needed to hear that today, I think.”

Isagi smiles boyishly. It suits him.

“It’s no problem.” You fiddle with the straps of your backpack, suddenly feeling bashful at his gratitude. “Adults like that? They think they rule the world, but in reality—”

The squeaking of tires interrupts you, and the bus arrives exactly eleven minutes late.

“That’s my cue,” you say, and for a second, you could swear that Isagi seems disappointed. You make your way towards the bus, head turning towards his way before you get on board. “Thanks for the chat, stranger. I’ll see you around.”

You make your way through the barren bus, the driver eyeing you up-and-down for your soaked figure. And just like that, uncertainty and dejection return in waves. Talking to Isagi was a good distraction and all, but you can’t forget that your partner of two years just fucking broke up with you. You are alone now.

You want nothing more than to sleep it all off. This feeling of loneliness is a type that you would not wish on anyone - even your worst enemy. (Well, maybe someone. Your ex, being the said someone. But you like to think that is just the anger talking.)

“Hey!” Isagi’s voice echoes out. Like a ray of sunlight breaking through the grey skies of your mind, it is his turn to make your eyes widen; his voice bypassing the sheet of glass separating you two and reaching the storm that surrounds your heart. “Don’t let that past relationship stop you from shining too, okay?”

…Perhaps, you aren’t so alone after all.

The bus sets off, and Isagi sees you smile at him through the rain-stricken window. The boy hopes that his sentiments have reached you; he hopes that you’ll follow the same advice that you’ve given him. 

But above all else, he hopes that he will see you again.

TWO.

“I hate this bus stop and its stupid roof.”

Isagi stops typing away on his phone. “You say that like, all the time nowadays.”

You’ve definitely sucked the life out of that phrase recently, but you take it as a good sign. An indication that you’ve healed.

The relationship that you once held dear is nothing but a mere memory of the past. The countless sleepless nights and time spent wallowing in your own self-doubt have all but ceased to exist. You realised that it simply was not worth your while to cry about a lost love, and to instead surround yourself with the love that remains from those around you. If anything, you are grateful for it: you have grown from that experience tremendously. By no means would you ever consider it to be a waste of time. And in the process?

You garnered a friend. A confidant. That break up led to the beginning of something magical. It led to a friendship with Isagi Yoichi, or, who you like to call, your bus-stop boy. 

After the fateful day, you started to notice his presence around more. At first it was in the halls of Ichinan, a mere wave shared between you two here and there. Then the new school year began, and Isagi was shuffled into your homeroom. You began seeing him from once in a while, to literally everyday.

His presence began to bleed more and more into yours, and your lives ended up intertwining together until there was nothing you could do to untangle them. Eventually? Isagi was your deskmate. He was cooking lunch for you, you two eating his homemade lunches together in comfortable silence. You began waiting for his soccer practice to finish, and Isagi would wait by your side at the station until the bus came. A rhythm that you two fell into, almost as easy as breathing.

In your chapter of new beginnings, there is no Isagi Yoichi without you, and there is no you without Isagi Yoichi. An inseparable duo, you two are dubbed as. 

You like to think you know a lot about him now. Maybe even go as far as to say you know everything about him, as he knows everything about you.

“It lets the rain in, Isagi.” You whine. “And besides, why is it even raining in Spring? Tsuyu* season isn’t for like, another month or two. There’s no way anyone could like this weather. No way.”

“I don’t know… I don’t mind it every now and then,” he says. “I like rain. I think it’s nice.”

Pause.

Well, maybe you don’t know everything about him.

“What? Since when?” You put your hand on your heart, gasping in mock-offence. “I didn’t know that I’m friends with a traitor.”

He rolls his eyes at you. The audacity. “A traitor, really? Just because I like a bit of rain here and there?”

“It goes deeper than that, Isagi!” You say. (It really doesn’t. You just want an excuse to complain a little, and a sassy Isagi Yoichi is always a fun sight.) “What’s there to like anyways? I don’t get it.”

“I can try to explain it for you, if you’d like.”

“Please do.”

“Have you ever seen what it looks like after it has rained?” He asks. You shake your head in response. You’ve never been the type to stick around long enough to see the sky stop crying. “You should. It’s wonderful, y’know: the glow it leaves afterwards. The streets look like they’ve been reborn - you can literally see the dirt on the concrete being washed away and given another life. If you’re lucky? A rainbow might come and say hi.” Isagi smiles at the little comment he makes.” That sight alone is worth getting your books wet and missing the bus every now and then. And it is just one of many reasons I have, honestly.”

You find yourself smiling at his enthusiasm. It’s cute, when he’s like this. You’re glad that he’s comfortable enough around you to show this side of himself. “I like it when you infodump, Isagi.”

“Did my infodump manage to change your mind?” A tinge of hope emerges in his voice and eyes. You shake your head. The hope is gone just as fast as it came. “Well, maybe the main reason will.”

He gives you a mysterious smile, and proceeds to say nothing.

“Aren’t you going to finish that sentence?”

“Nope, I don’t think I will.” Isagi says. You shoot him an incredulous look. “I’ll tell you… If you don’t fail your social studies paper.”

“Wha— Hey! Now that’s just being mean!”

He laughs. “So then… Why do you hate rain so much, anyways?”

“Changing the subject, really?” You say.

 He merely shrugs in response, giving you a teasing grin. “Just roll with it. I promise I’ll tell you,” he pauses. “One day.”

You kick his foot in response, making an impromptu game of footsies ensue.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Isagi lifts his hands up to the side of his head, surrendering in a fit of boyish laughter. “No but really, I’m curious. Why do you hate it so much?”

“I don’t really know. It’s just—“ You stick your leg out precariously, as if the rain is going to melt your foot. “I hate the rain. I always have, and probably always will.”

A lull of silence passes by - not dissimilar to the one that happened on your first meeting with him. It’s different this time, though, as it is not a silence that is born out of two strangers not quite knowing what to say. It went deeper than that, more intimate, more comforting. Isagi puts a hand on your shoulder, turning you around to face him. “Well,” he begins. “One day, I hope I can show you how beautiful rain can be.”

Isagi smiles - a pretty, pretty thing.

There, amongst the dreary skies and wet cherry blossom leaves, is sunlight.  Sunlight, in the form of him. Him, the Ichinan forward. Isagi, a boy who has nestled his way into your life almost too easily.

Yoichi, who leaves your heart hammering a bit too fast for comfort.

“Come on, you’re going to miss your bus.” Isagi’s hand finds its way to yours, locking into place like they were made for eachother. “It’s darker than usual. I’ll walk you home today, okay?”

He drags you towards your usual window seat, tapping the two matching keycards you share while entering. Isagi whispers a quick goodnight as he sits on the seat next to yours.

A smile makes its way towards your lips. Warmth filling up your entire body, entire soul. 

You adore his sleeping face; you adore him.

Wait. Adore? Uh oh, you think. I might be falling in love.

*Tsuyu: The rainy period in Japan, generally spanning from May to July. The direct translation is ‘plum rain’, because it coincides with the season that plums ripen in Japan.

THREE.

Isagi is the first one to break the silence.

It’s weird, how he called you out to the bus stop out of the blue. Meeting together here in the past was always out of necessity: one born from a desire to go home and to have a chat with your best friend to end the day on a high note. Never, is the meeting at your sanctuary intentional, like it is now.

You couldn’t help but rush to get here. Not when he texted you like that: frantic and brimming with urgency.

“Sorry for making you come all this way, especially at this time of the night.” He says, carefully. As if he is tiptoeing around eggshells. Like you are strangers again. Isagi is never this careful around you, and hasn’t been for a while now. The change of pace perpetuates fear into the depths of your soul like no other.

“It’s fine.” You tentatively look up from your lap, preferring to look at the night sky instead of his face. I’d do anything for you, when you text me like that. “It’s just… Your message; the tone you’re speaking to me in right now. You’re seriously worrying me, Isagi.”

Isagi lets out a sigh, one quivering with nerves and worry. He places a hand onto your clenched ones, rubbing comforting circles onto the dorsal side. That’s weird. You didn’t even realise you were shaking. “You know that letter from the Japan Football Association I got a few days ago? The one we were so excited about?” 

“The one I forced you to accept, right?”

“That’s the one.” He smiles fondly at the memory. The one of the two of you in his room, him being at an absolute mental blank, while you - the ever-so lovely you - was crying tears of joy - a stark contrast to the tears you shed earlier that day, watching him lose the qualifiers. You egged him to accept it, because ‘nothing would make you happier than to see him pursue his dreams’, you said. Words that sent an elation of joy to flood across his body, for he didn’t think that he could love you more. “…Well, I went to that address they gave us today. And that letter didn’t exactly tell the whole story. Of what it is, what their goal is.” Isagi continues; you feel a lump beginning to form at the back of your throat. “Yes, it’s a player improvement project. But I have to stay at this camp, I think. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying there, and I can’t contact anyone that’s not a part of it either. All I know is that it starts tomorrow. Officially.”

“What…” You muster out, at a complete loss for words.

“It’s called Blue Lock, and I’m going for it.” He places his unoccupied hand onto his chest, eyes igniting with a kindred spirit like no other. “I think this is my best shot at becoming the best. To play beyond a national level, and make you proud. But…” He pauses, pinching your chin with his index finger and thumb, forcing you to look him in the eyes for the first time in this conversation. “I won't go if you don’t want me to. I won’t, and will never do anything that you don’t like. So just say the word, and I’ll stay. Right here, right by your side.”

It hurts so damn bad. All of this, how it is so out of the blue, how there’s a possibility you may never see the boy, who has been such a pivotal aspect of your life for the last year or so, ever again. You want to be supportive - heck, you’d go to war just to see Isagi shine. But it hurts. You love him, for goodness sake. Every bone in your body wants him to stay, to not break the sacred normalcy that you have shared with the man that makes you smile brighter than anyone else can.

But the skies are clear. And the right answer, the solution to all of this, is even clearer.

“You’d have to be stupid to not go.” You say, voice unwavering with confidence. However, your eyes are anything but. “You have to go, Isagi. I don’t want to destroy your dreams like that and ruin the potential you have. I could never live with myself if I made you stay.”

Isagi kisses you on the forehead, once. “Thank you,” Twice. “Thank you, so much.” He leans his forehead against yours, and his teary ones meet your equally watery ones. “I’m going to miss you more than anything. I promise, I’m going to become number one. Just for you.”

“You better.” You chuckle, choking on a sob. “Shine brighter than anyone else, Isagi. I’ll be watching you every step of the way.”

He nods in response, and you stay like that for a while. For minutes, hours, even. Foreheads kissing each other, and staring into his cerulean eyes like it’s the last time you’ll ever see them.

“I never told you the reason, didn’t I?” Isagi breathes out.

“What?”

“The reason why I love rain as much as I do.” He says. You let out a careful no, wondering if he did tell you, and you just weren’t listening.

“It’s because,” Isagi begins, reaching for your right hand and opening it, palm facing up. “It was raining when I met you.” You feel him reach for his back pocket, and Isagi pulls out a pristine white envelope, placing it into your hand. It is sealed with red wax and decorated with golden swirls. Beautiful. Like it came right out of a fairytale. “…And you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Your body quivers, and you feel the tears threatening to return again. “You’re so corny,” you say, half-flustered and half-shy. “And I still hate the rain.” You reach a hand up to his cheek, looking at his lips in a way that just friends don’t. “But Isagi, you. You are the best thing that’s happened to me too.”

He looks at your lips too, and you anticipate for something more - to go beyond what you two have built so beautifully. To go beyond friends, and transform into lovers.

Isagi pulls you in for a tight hug instead. You reciprocate. Those thoughts disappear as fast as they came. 

“So..” You clench the letter tight within your hands, and you cringe at the feeling of droplets meeting your shoulder. (Truth is, you didn’t know if you were cringing at the fact you wished he had kissed you, or if it is the impending sky-fall. You choose to believe the latter.) “Do I open it now?”

He pulls away from the hug first, and smiles, embarrassment painting his features. “I’d prefer it if you read it later.”

The droplets fasten, quicker and quicker, and Isagi pulls you closer to him, putting you out of the rain’s way. “Oh come on! It has to rain now, out of all times?” You heave a great sigh, burying your head into the nape of his neck.

“It gives us an excuse to stay here for a little while longer, doesn’t it?” He gives you puppy dog eyes. 

“As much as I’d love to stay with you all night, it’s getting late,” you say, laughing inwardly. “I don’t want to worry your parents. Actually— have you even told your parents about Blue Lock yet?”

He shakes his head. “No, I wanted you to be the first one to know.”

How sweet. “Then you should hurry home,” you whisper. “I shouldn’t hold you up.”

“You sure?” Isagi holds your hands tighter than before. I don’t want to leave you yet, his eyes scream.

“I’m sure.” You squeeze his hands in response. I don’t want to let you go either, your eyes say.

Isagi leans in once more, bumping your noses together, eyes meeting in a silent agreement. But we have to. And we’ll be okay.

“Promise that you won’t forget me?”

“I could never.”

And so he goes. But you stay. You remain seated, sheltered beneath the shoddy bus-stop. A sense of déjà vu passes, it’s just like all those times before. But it’s almost painful this time. Your bus-stop boy is walking away from you, instead of seeking shelter alongside you. You laugh at yourself, bitterly. You don’t know if you’ll ever move on from him, or if you even want to. Not when your forever-person has pried his way into your heart like this, not when Isagi feels like home.

You pry the wax seal off the letter, unfolding the paper that is encased inside in a hurry, a tinge of excitement coursing through your veins.

‘I still haven’t shown you the beauty of rain.  Will you wait for me? Love, Isagi.’

A laugh escapes your lips. Of course you would. You’d wait forever, and forevermore for him. He didn't even have to ask. It’s something that you would’ve done as one would breathe air. And in a way, you realise that there’s a certain calamity to your circumstance. 

You love him so much that you’d willingly let Isagi tear down everything you’ve ever known. Whether it may be something silly like your animosity towards rain, or the idea of letting someone love you again. You’d let him do it all.

And that is terrifying. But exquisitely so.

A barrage of steps sounds itself out in the quiet of the night, a figure making its way to you - closer, closer, and closer. Oh god, someones not trying to kill me, are they?

Then you see a familiar sight. A boy with his hair in disarray, black outerwear soaking wet, looking just like the wet cat from your first meeting but this time more mature and more determined, and suddenly he’s pulling you into the rain with him, grasping onto your shoulders, locking his eyes onto yours and oh. He’s kissing you on the lips now. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I couldn’t leave without kissing you first. I think I’d go crazy if I didn't.”

“I think I’d go crazy too,” you chuckle, resting your head against his chest. “And yeah. Of course I’ll wait for you, dummy.”

“You opened it already?”

“I can’t wait to see how you’ll make me love rain.”

…You should’ve known he would’ve given you that kiss first.

Isagi is not the type to leave you disappointed for too long, after all.

FOUR.

The days seem to blur together in Isagi’s absence. 

The last year or so was, for a lack of a better word, lonely. Filled with rumours that you drove your best friend mad and he ran away, or that you murdered Isagi and the police have yet to discover his body, you felt as if the only people in your life for the last few months were your family and Isagi’s parents.

The sudden isolation is getting to you. And you know it. It shows in the dreariness of your demeanour; bears its teeth in the darkening eye bags that have crept their way onto your face. You’re not certain that he will be able to recall your face anymore. Heck, you can’t recognise yourself anymore either. Gosh, who would’ve thought that being Isagi-less for a little while would do this to you?

But today brings something new to the table: hope. Confirmation that all of this waiting has been worth it after all. You’ll get to see him in an hour or two come morning, and it will be enough.

 Or, at least, that's the timeframe you predicted last night. 

“There have been reports of mass delays in the Saitama Public Transport Network due to heavy storms and rainfall. Civilians can expect their regularly scheduled buses and trains to be postponed for up to two hours or more—“

You throw a pancake at your TV and scream.

The what-would-be one hour trip to Tokyo is now possibly three, and since your butter fingers slipped and set the wrong alarm last night, you are already running late. 

You just hope that Isagi’s parents are still waiting for you outside.

Ding!

You reach into your pocket for your phone, and a message from Isagi’s mother illuminates the screen.

‘Sorry, Honey. We left already. Issei is worried that the traffic is going to hold us up from getting to Tokyo in time.’

Great. Just great.

It seems as if the universe is practically begging for you to not see Isagi today. But after not seeing him for months - not even a hi, hello, or a single sign that your Isagi is safe and sound - you only have one thing on your mind. 

Screw the universe. I need to see him. Screw it all.

You chuck on a pair of navy converses, making your way towards the bus stop that started it all. The streets are busier nowadays. With various roadworks and several shops getting renovations left and right. However, the one location that you know like the back of your hand remains abandoned, frozen in time, almost. Still on its last leg, with a leaky roof and ivy adorning the wooden frame.

The seats have grown moss on them from the increase in rainfall nowadays. And so you choose to stand instead - quietly observing the pouring downfall, thoughts running amok.

It’s almost scary, how time has simultaneously been impetuous and sluggish lately. And you know it ties back to Isagi. It always does. You haven’t seen the boy in ages, actually. And that, in itself, is an understatement. It isn’t in the 'two weeks off school’, or the ‘we haven’t talked since summer break’ way, but in an ‘I’m honestly forgetting your face since it is now a new spring without you’ way. 

…You don’t think you’ll have the heart to ever tell him that.

There is one thing that scares you more, though. And that's in the way that you’re forgetting how Isagi looks when he wears his smile. Does his lips curve upwards or downwards? Do his eyes turn into half-moons when he’s happy or does he bear his cerulean eyes for everyone to see? All of these are questions that invade your mind during sleepless midnights. Questions, that you never thought you would ask at all.

You can only hope that his smile is better than you can imagine. That he glows radiantly like he does in the fragments that appear in your memory every once in a while. Will happiness look good on him? Will it feel like a shame that you’ve been missing out on it all this time?

Maybe that’s the real reason why you’re worried that Isagi won't remember you: because you can hardly recall his face yourself. As in, truly, know what he looks like. You know Isagi from the blurry photos on your phone taken at 3AM sleepovers, and the display frames lined around his family’s home. The big picture itself is easy to see. The little things - the quirks of his that made you fall - have been much harder to recall.

But you do remember a few things. Arguably, the most important ones.

Your love for him; Isagi’s promise. The way he kissed you like he needed you to live; the way you cried for him amongst the skyfall.

The way Isagi taught you that it’s okay to love. 

And it’s okay to be loved back.

For now, that is enough.

Droplets continue to batter against your woollen jumper, the rain drenching your entire being. It soaks your hair, makes the knuckles on your clenched fists a light violet, disguises the tears falling down from your face. The rain is ever so violent, leaving a mess of you in its wake. For the second time in your life, you let the rain do as it pleases. You let it destroy the outfit you meticulously planned, wreak havoc on the converses Isagi gave to you on your birthday. All in hopes that it will eventually cleanse your soul. Cleanse the pain, the happiness. Wipe the slate clean, as the rain does with the pavement, until you are reborn from the ashes and live a life where you aren’t so, irrecoverably in love with your best friend.

But you know, deep down, it will never save you from your calamitous love. That even if you are reborn, one word will remain in your heart. One, sacred word that you keep like an oath. 

Promise.

You wonder if Isagi remembers his promise in the same way that you do. 

It’s the only reason why you are going to the game today, after all.

Your hands loosen from the fist you’ve been keeping this whole time, deep crescent moons adorning the insides of your palm. A slip of paper flurries out from your hand - swishing with the wind in a way that a feather would. It dances around, until it lands in the puddle that has formed beneath your feet.

Shit. The ticket.

You bend down and clutch a now-soaked sheet of paper in your palm, tiny inscriptions that adorned the sheet now bleeding together. The only thing now visibly readable being: ‘JAPAN’S U20 VS BLUE LOCK’.

Rain really, really sucks.

(You’ve never hated it more.)

The bus finally arrives amidst the downpour.

(Yet, for some reason, a small part of you is excited to see the rainbow that comes after the storm.)

FIVE. 

Isagi has always loved the rain.

Ever since he was a young boy, the rain has always had a certain allure that captivated him more than most. In his eyes, puddles held miniature worlds within them, with pebbles acting as land formations and stray twigs imitating people. Enchanting. Raindrops race each other down window panes, with him as an eager viewer. Simply spellbinding. However, nothing has ever beat the feeling of playing soccer amongst the rainfall. The feeling of watching the opponents around you struggle to run in the mud, as you calculate the best direction to head in; pieces of grass decorating your cleats in the aftermath like a badge of honour. Getting sick afterwards is a simple price to pay if it means transforming the pitch into a battlefield. Rain makes the game something to remember.

It’s the duality of rain that makes Isagi treasure the phenomenon dearly; rain can be simultaneously beautiful and destructive at the same time. Which, shockingly to him, is the very same fact that makes you despise it so much.

Your face appears within his mind. Isagi smiles.

Ah yes, you.

The person who despises rain more than anything else in the world. Who groans at the slightest hint of darkening clouds, and acts as if drizzle is akin to acid rain that will obliterate everyone in an instant.

Nowadays, media outlets constantly poke and prod into your relationship with one another as Isagi’s reputation grows - at a speed only fathomable in his wildest dreams - wondering how he can love you so much when the two of you are so different in every sense.

“…They just don’t understand,” he said to you on a day where it was all too much. “They’ll never understand how you’ve changed my life, is all.”

“Me? The person who nearly forgot you? Who doubted you and thought that you would’ve forgotten about them too?” You angrily clenched your head. “I don’t see how you’ve forgiven me so easily for that.”

“I told you already,” he began. “When I was gone I had the same thoughts as you. I forgot you for a bit, too. I doubted you, as well. I could never hold that against you, because I did the same, and– and… I regret it everyday; I know you regret it too.” Isagi inhaled sharply. “But at the end of the day, we both remembered the promise. And that’s enough.”

“…Right. I’m sorry, Yoichi.” Your eyes locked with his through the gaps between your fingers. “I love you so much, y’know that?”

“I know.” He grabbed your left hand, giving it a swift kiss. “I love you more, infinitely.”

Isagi cherishes you like he is a marauder and you are the finest jewel; he looks at you like you’re the only person who ever matters. And that’s true. Because to him, you are. With the countless sacrifices you’ve made for him; sticking by his side every step of the way; waiting and waiting for years; being the brunt of scrutiny from the media - heck - even your peers in high-school prior to his Blue Lock debut, Isagi is unsure if he will ever be able to repay you for all that you’ve done.

…But he does have an idea on where to begin.

Isagi averts his attention to the sights outside the bus window. He wonders why the rain is extra pretty today. The beauty of the raindrops seem otherworldly currently - a cascade of water flowing down overflowing gutters, iridescent hues lining the streets that he grew up on, children jumping into puddles with no care in the world. The rainy downpour from the heavens above seems unfaltering - even against the brilliance of Saitama’s lights. And amidst the hustle and bustle - adults finding their way into comforting warmth - there is you. Waiting in the rain for him underneath the bus stop, face twisted in discomfort, twirling the umbrella in your hand round and round.

It is no coincidence that the rain is so charming today.

No. 

It’s prettier, because of you.

Always, you.

His sweetheart of many years.

“Hey, stranger.” You greet him as Isagi steps outside of the vehicle he practically grew up on, ushering him underneath the umbrella you brought with you.

You, who he loves more and more everyday.

“Hey yourself.” His eyes twinkle with mirth as he takes the umbrella from your hands. “It’s been a long time since we were both here, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” Your face lightens up with the smile that he loves so much. “To think the last time we were here together was when…”

He looks into your eyes, face erupting with a mix of his boyish smile and laughter. “...When I kissed you. Yeah. I don’t think I could ever forget that night.”

The look on your face tells Isagi that neither could you. 

“Even though we’ve had countless other kisses since then, that one is still my favourite, y’know?” Your hands move up to cup his face within your palms. “Yoichi, you don’t do romantic things like that anymore.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Positive.” You stick your tongue out at him.

Isagi lets go of the source of shelter you are sharing, and lets it drift away with the wind. “Hey! We’re gonna get soaked!” You turn your back towards him, hands desperately trying to catch the stray umbrella that seems to be more than happy to escape. “C’mon Yoichi! What was that for?” 

“Turn around for me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.” He says, a smile evident in his words.

Isagi sees you gasp, the sight of him knocking the wind from your chest. 

There he is, kneeling with his right knee down to the floor - pants getting soaked from the wet concrete below. And in his outstretched hands, lays a small, black velvet box, a diamond ring embedded within its centre.

“Will you marry me?” Isagi asks, starry-eyed. Voice soft and vulnerable.

One day came, and now you know Isagi is right.

Rain can be beautiful.

EXTRA.

“Hey, Isagi. What’s the date today?”

“June 20th. Why?”

“No reason,” a small grin makes its way to your face. “Just curious.”

[anadiasmount]

imagine you're dating jude but no one knows and you're at an event or game or whatever and you hear some girls talking about him and how he's so hot and blah blah blah and you're just sitting there smiling to yourself because no matter how much they talk, at the end of the day he comes home to you.

let’s say you’re back home and he’s cooking dinner for you after the match, and he’s just so excited and over the moon over the performance and goal! literally he cannot stop tapping about it and mentioning just how perfect it was.

you sat on the counter there quietly listening with the biggest grin on your face bc you love when he talks about his achievements and career, you could listen to him all day. it makes you not only super grateful but yet more trusted and wanted by this bc since your relationship was yet to be known by everyone.

“you’re awfully quiet? something on your mind?” he asks dropping the spatulas and striding over to you. placing a small kiss on your lips while he pulls you towards him, chest to chest. “nothing. i’m just so proud of you jude. it makes me so happy how far you’ve comed along in just months. and to be able here to support and love you along the way it the tip of the iceberg,” you grab his face a place a small kiss to his cheek, your lipstick leaving a mark behind.

you giggled at his confused reaction when you give him a teasing look, showing him that you were hiding something from him. jude groans and insists you tell him what you’re thinking of, “tell me please, you can’t give me that look and not say anything?”

when his big hands trail over your sides you moved around to try him to stop, your feet banging and making noise on the cabinets below as you try to free yourself from him. “fine fine. just be quiet! your mom is still here,” you say, motioning to bring his voice to a whisper or quiet voice.

your mind drifts back off to the game where you had been sitting patiently for the match to start. it was cold out so you kept playing with your beanie and scarf to get it warm and close to you. while getting distracted by the new stadiums latest features, your head cocks forward to the group of four girls who brought up your boyfriends name.

no one knew the two of you we’re together, you and jude agreeing to when time was right as all you wanted was to share the most right now when no one was seeing or being judgy. plus knowing how protective his fans are, you weren’t quite ready for their comments.

a blond girl spoke up about he different things he would do to him, the red head about how he gave out big dick energy, and the two brunettes were chatting how hot and talented he was, that it should be them supporting him, and only them. you sat there with your arms crossed and feeling buddy, an expression of wanting to let the world know he was your boyfriend.

“during the game the girls infront of me, kept going on and on of how hot and sexy you were, that you legit give out big dick energy, that’s you’re super talented and such a mommas boy. how they could treat you better and give you the world and it just made me laugh,” you chuckle and reenacted their voices and hang gestures, giving him a huge grin.

jude laughs loudly and throws his head back, forgetting the promise he had just done prior to keep his voice down. “little did they know my girlfriend was behind them, looking beautiful in my jersey and supporting me through the end, even if she didn’t agree with me to continue playing,” he says frowning in the last sentence.

“i’ll say it once and i’ll say it again, risks like even how small or big they are, should never be taken. but i can’t do anything about that, let alone you bc ik how stubborn and fearless you are,” you purse your lips together and hug him, feeling him let out a sigh of relief. “i’m just so happy to be here with you after all this time. i love you so so much you know? you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” you say softly kissing his neck, shoulder, and jaw.

“ i know baby, i know, but i only do it bc of the team and for me, we all need each other even in the worst timings. i won’t make it a habit though. and as for me being the best thing in your life, i can say the same. i’ve never met anyone like you, who’s loves me conditionally through my goods and bads, let’s me be the jude i want to be,” he closes the gap and kisses you feverently, whispering i love yous along your lips.

but then comes to a halt and groans, quickly sprinting to the stove where he freaks out over the food, “MY CHICKEN! ITS BURNING!”