#like don’t expect him to act like a golden fucking retriever

[darkwood-sleddog]

“Why doesn’t he act like the intact goldens and labradors I know?” (Said about a same sex dog aggressive intact malamute).

Well. I dunno. Maybe because he is not a golden retriever???

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 !! ❞

❝ WHEN YOUR CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND OFFERS TO TEACH YOU HOW TO LOVE, HOW CAN YOU SAY NO ?? ❞

✧ pairing: college student!yuji itadori x f!reader

✧ summary: yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, aged up characters (don't like? don't read), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, college au! (no curses), reader is the same age as yuji (both 20s), grew up as neighbors, mutual pining, nobara playing cupid, jealous!yuji, yuji is so golden retriever bf, nightmares, mentions of parental death via car crash (yuji), adoptive dad nanamin :), nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (under a blanket with sleeping friends nearby), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing, fanart by unknown artist (found on pinterest, pls let me know if you know the og artist so i can credit)

✧ wc: 13,544

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 5 has been sold to two anons!

“You want me to teach you?” 

The words left your best friend’s lips nonchalantly as if he was asking you if you wanted him to teach you how to ride a bike. 

But that’s not what he was offering to have you ride—

“Yuji,” you say slowly, “what are you saying? Do you even know what you’re saying?” 

Yuji Itadori was dense, but you knew he was far from stupid. You learned that in third grade when he punched a bully that had been picking on you, the final straw being when he had tripped you, causing you to skin your knee. Before you could even well any tears up in your eyes, you heard a thwack and a yelp as Yuji had laid the boy out on the playground. You stared at Yuji, as he offered you his other hand to help you to your feet, as your eyes slid from him to your bully. 

Yuji knelt down, carrying you on his back to the nurse’s office, “but Yuji, what about him? We left him—“ 

And he set you down outside the nurse’s office — and he only smiled that wide smile he had always reserved for you, “Don’t worry — I made sure no one was looking.” 

But now, you were beginning to doubt his sanity, rather than his intelligence — “I know what I’m saying,” he chuckles, trademark smile on his lips, “I’m just offering you the chance to practice,” 

“This isn’t practicing a sport or test—you’re offering,” you shift on your bed, while Yuji lounges on the floor, back against the bottom of your bed, “you’re offering to sleep with me, Yuji,” he leans his head on your bed, looking up at you at way, your face upside in his vision. 

“I know, I know, but it’s not a big deal is it?” he’s acting so nonchalant you wonder if one of his teammates had hit him hard in the head during practice, “we’ve had all our firsts together,” 

You scoff, “That was like our first steps, first day of school, first drink—“ 

“First kiss—“ he interrupts, and your face burns at the memory — a preadolescent game gone wrong that ended up with you and Yuji sharing your first kiss when you were teens. 

“That wasn’t real,” you wave him off, crossing your arms, “and this isn’t just a kiss for a game—this could change our friendship—“ 

“It won’t, if we don’t let it,” his gaze is more serious than you’ve ever seen Yuji be — not when he was usually all wide smiles and enthusiasm, “it’s us, we can get through it, and we don’t have to let it get weird right?” 

You chew on your lip, “Yuji, what do you get out of it?” And he’s tilting his head at your question— “I mean you don’t have to do this — just because I’m insecure because I don’t have experience,” you mumble. 

And that’s how the conversation had started — your complaints about your friends talking about their boyfriends, exes, and hookups, while you just nodded along — far too aware that you hadn’t even had a proper kiss, much less sex. And now you had found yourself here. 

“Look,” he slides up to sit on your bed, a good distance away from you, his eyes finding yours — warm hazel that felt as if it was drizzling over your skin wherever his gaze traveled, “I want your first time to be safe. I don’t want you to just hook up with someone and something bad to happen because you can’t say no — with me,” he clenched his hand into a fist holding his other hand flat as he gently hit his fist against it, “you can tell me to stop and if I somehow don’t or don’t hear you, punch me,” 

You snort, “Yuji,” he’s shaking his head. 

“I’m serious, I want you to be safe,” and you’re fidgeting with your fingers in your lap — this was Yuji, Yuji — you couldn’t say you hadn’t noticed how well he had grown up. Not when all of your friends drooled over him — especially with how liked he was — by everyone. 

“What if I lose you?” And he chuckles, as he breaches your personal space and his hand brushes yours. 

“You won’t, ever. I promise,” and your breath catches — many millions of times had Yuji touched you throughout your lives — an arm over over your shoulder, a hug, even holding your hand through crowds during festivals — but a simple brush of his fingers against yours had your heart rattling against its bony enclosure, begging for you to let it out, “what do ya think?” 

And you’re thinking — this would be the best outcome — you weren’t one to hook up with a stranger and you were burnt out on dead end dating app conversations, and to have your first time with someone close, someone you knew — it would be ideal. 

“Are you sure?” And his lips curl into a soft smile, leaning closer, as his fingers gently brush against your locks. 

“Would I be here like this if I wasn’t?” his breath warms your lips, as his fingers skim your cheek, “is this okay?” 

You nod wordlessly, unable to find the words to even reply — you had never thought of this situation would ever happen — especially like this. You lean against his hand, calloused from his practices, but as gentle as it always was. 

“We can take it as slow as you need,” he murmurs, as he’s even closer now, your eyes fluttering shut, only for his lips to graze your forehead. You pause at the featherlight touch — wondering if it actually happened when your eyes open to find his, “no need to rush, right?” He smiles, as he gets to his feet, “are we still on for tomorrow’s study session?” 

“Of course,” 

He scratches the back of his head, “Good because I still don’t understand math or why I need it, but unfortunately, I still have to pass,” he grabs his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he offers a smile before he’s gone. 

And you’re left sitting on your bed, the warmth of his touch still on your skin, wondering what the fuck just even happened. 

“Yuji, you just have to solve for x,” you sigh, explaining the problem for the billionth time, as his pen waves back forth between two fingers, “it’s simple,” 

Your weekly study sessions with Yuji were a constant throughout your life, though more for Yuji than you. Yuji is very intelligent, despite his demeanor in class where it felt as if there was a perpetual question mark over his head — he just learned by seeing and then doing. And the repetition helped you all the same. But you had never felt so conscious sitting next to the boy you called your best friend. 

“Maybe to you, but I don’t why math has to involve letters,” he wrinkled his nose at the problem, sighing, as he twists the pen around his hand, and your eyes catch the movement — you didn’t know how the little boy’s whose hands you used to hold had gotten so big now — calloused from his practices, but so soft against your skin,  “is something interesting about my hands?” 

Your eyes snap up to meet his, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “No, just, uh, impressed that you can twist the pen around your hand like that,” 

“Oh, that?” he’s as unfazed as usual, leaning back a little, “that’s easy. I could show you if you want,” 

“It’s fine,” and you’re trying to focus back on the problem, when you find him still staring, “what is it?” 

“If you wanted to hold my hand, you just had to ask,” his fingers graze yours, with enough time for you to pull away, before his fingers lace with yours, “and we can do more if you want?” 

This was crazy — it was probably a mistake, but — as his touch made your heart flutter, warm rolling in waves that erupted into butterflies in your stomach — why weren’t you pulling away? 

“What does more entail?” and he inches a little closer, his breath warming your lips, “but you still haven’t gotten this problem down, are you just trying to get out of studying?” 

A chuckle on his lips, “Maybe I’m just looking for the right motivation, so how about we make a deal?” He moves over, spreading his legs apart, and pats the floor in front of you — for each question I get right, I get a kiss,”

And why you agreed to this, you really didn’t have words—but now you were sat between his legs, nearly in his lap, as he leaned forward — his chest against your back as his chin brushed your shoulder and his cheek brushed against your own, breath warming your neck — trying to get a better look at the math problem. His arm was wrapped around your side as his pen scratched against the scrap paper, trying to solve the problem. You bit your lip, trying your best not to glance at him, but you spot his wrinkled brow out of the corner of his lip and the tip of his tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth— and your lips curled, he still had that habit from when you were kids. 

“There, I think I solved it,” he murmurs, and you have to hold back a shiver at the words rumbled against your ear, “is it right?” 

And god, you could barely think, much less do math, but as you glance over the question and answer — he’s got it right.  

Fuck. 

“It is,” you say softly, “is all you need some motivation? Because I would have just promised I would go to see the next Human Earthworm movie,” 

He chuckles, his lips nearly against your ear, as his hand gently traces your jaw, “I’d like that, but I think i rather have what I was promised, as long as you’re still okay with that,” 

Your breath hitches, as you follow his lead, rough pads still so gentle against your cheek, as your eyes find his, but you don’t find his usual doe eyes — but instead find pools of lust threatening to drag you under. Although from the way your lips part and eyes flutter shut, perhaps he had you underwater for far longer than you even knew. 

His lips graze yours — it’s barely a kiss, a peck maybe — as he does his best to ease you in. You didn’t know lips could be so soft — meeting again and again, stealing logic from your mind and breath from your lungs. 

“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, not even a breath away from your lips. You’re nearly dizzy, mind reeling from his touch, heart jumping at his thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek. 

“I am, just a little strange to be kissing, much less you,” and his brow knits together, “but not bad at all,” you add, and he chuckles, his fingers grazing your cheek firmer, as he leans in again, “we said one kiss—“ 

“Do you really want to stop now?” he’s murmuring, and your noses bump against each other. 

Your lips find his again and now you can taste the sour candy he had stolen from you, but an overwhelming sweetness overrides it, and your hand brushes against his cheek, the other finding purchase on his chest.

“Is that okay?” You murmur, as you lips part, the two of you catching your breath, your shared pants filling the silence, your cheeks burning as your eyes avert from his, “I don’t know—“ 

“You’re fine, don’t worry about it,” a small chuckle on his lips, fingers cupping your chin to guide your gaze back to his — a subtle heat that makes your insides turn to molasses, sticky and sweet and far too warm, “just do what feels right, ok?” 

And his lips find yours again, gently as he did the first time, but more passion behind it, swallowing your quiet murmur of his name with ease. Your lips move against his just as his did — you try to push aside the thoughts of whether you were doing this right. But the slight brush of his teeth against your bottom lip makes you forget too with a gasp. 

He pulls away with a grin on his lips, “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” and his lips are kissed red, your thumb brushed against his swollen lips, “don’t tempt me more,” 

“You’re the one who started this, shouldn’t you take some responsibility, Yu?” your lips graze his cheek, curling as a rosy flush settles over his cheekbones, “nothing to say?” 

“You’re making it hard for me to hold back,” and he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, making you shiver, as he pulls you even closer, arms around your waist, “I don’t want to rush you,” 

Cute, you think before you even think, and yet the way his face is hidden away in your neck, breath warming your neck makes your body flush, and when have you ever thought of Yuji as cute? And yet you couldn’t remember a time that he made your heart race either. 

His lips press a small kiss to your neck, drawing a yelp from your lips, “Yuji—“ he’s nosing the hollow of your throat, “ah, you’re teasing me,” you whine, and he’s lifting his gaze back to yours, heavy with want, a want that leaves you bereft of any semblance of sense. 

“You started it,” he murmurs, before he finds your lips in another kiss — this time it’s a slow heat, languid as it threatens to burn both of you alive, flames licking at the edges of your reason. And his phone goes off — a reminder for practice that he groans at, “I should go. I have to go run laps,” 

“Now?” And he’s slowly disentangling himself from you, the absence of his touch lingers, the heat ebbing, “don’t you usually practice in the mornings?” You get to your feet slowly as well, handing him his math notebook, and it occurs to you when you spot the puddles outside, “it was too wet,” 

And he nods, scratching the back of his head, as the two of you walk out into your apartment’s living space, “and I forgot my protein shake—“ you head over to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out his shake, and he blinks, “how—“ 

“You did the same thing last week, so I just bought a pack for you,” and his lips curl as he walks over and takes the bottle from your hand, fingers brushing — and even that much alight a flutter of nerves through your body. 

“Thanks,” he grins, and you nod. 

“Of course, I thought it just made sense since you come here every week—” you turn to shut the refrigerator, before turning back, only to find him stepping a bit closer, “Yu—“ 

“I almost forgot, one more lesson,” and he’s leaning close, and your breath catches in your throat, as his lips brush yours, fingers tracing the swell of your cheek, “a kiss goodbye,” and he parts, a brush of his fingers against yours, “I’ll text you later,” and he’s gone in a flash. 

Your left, fingertips touching your lips, a questioning lingering as he left — whether these feelings blooming in your chest were just from the kiss, or something more. 

But you glance at your phone — a text from Yuji: 

Golden Retriever Bestie: thanks for the drink again :)

You lock the screen — but you couldn’t hope for more, right? Not when this was started with the intention of stopping. But why—as you laid back into bed, staring up at your ceiling in the same room the two of you had spent the last two years watching movies or studying in, eyes squeezing shut—

Why did you still want more? 

When did Yuji Itadori fall in love with you? It would probably be easier for him to list the moments he hadn’t fallen for you — but the earliest he can remember was when he had hurt himself climbing a tree in the schoolyard, falling from the branch he had made it to. You had been watching him the whole time, telling him to come down, and when he fell, you were at his side. His vision was a little blurry but when it cleared, he saw you knelt above him, big tears leaving your eyes. And when he came to, you hugged him tight, before helping him to the nurse’s. You had even insisted on bandaging his cuts, not letting the nurse do so. 

And that’s when he knew — he knew he always wanted to wake to you beside him. 

“You what?” Nobara scoffed at him, as she held up another of her new purchases in front of her while looking in her full length mirror, “so instead of asking her out and confession this pathetic crush—“ 

“Pathetic is kinda harsh, Kugisaki—“ 

“It’s been over a decade — your one sided feelings is now in secondary school — it’s officially pathetic,” she hangs up the new leather jacket she bought in her closet, before turning to Yuji, “so instead of confessing, you asked her to be your friends with benefits—“ 

“That’s not exactly—“ she cuts him off with a look, “ok that’s kind of what I did,” he shakes his head, “she was venting about how she never had her first kiss and words started coming out of my mouth and wouldn’t stop—“ 

“Not the first time that’s happened to you is it?” And Yuji glares at her through the mirror, “what? You came to me instead of Fushiguro because you wanted a pretty girl’s opinion right?” 

“I said girl, nothing about—“ it was her turn to glare at him, “alright, alright — what do I do now? I want to tell her I like her, but if I do, I might seem like a—“ 

“A creep? A weirdo? A pervert?” 

“I was gonna say liar, but those too,” he rubbed a hand down his face, “what do I do?” 

She sighs, tucking a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear, “the only thing to do in situation like this,” 

“Tell the truth?” And she scoffs. 

“No, of course not, just use this time to make her fall for you, but that means you’ll have to use this agreement to your advantage,” she hums, “she said she wanted more experience right?” And Yuji nods, “who says it has to just be making out and sex?” 

“You want to go on a date? Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you turn the heat of your burner down, hoping you hadn’t completely burned your omelet now as you flipped it, “I thought this was just supposed to be for the more…physical sides of things,” your cheeks burned. 

God, what the fuck. 

“I mean part of gaining experience is learning how to date, right?” And you’re placing your slightly burned omelet in the plate, as you wipe your hands off with your dishcloth, “we could go to an arcade, maybe catch a movie,” 

“Human Earthworm 4?” And you hear him chuckle over the line, and the sound makes your lips curl — it always felt like an accomplishment making him laugh, but even more so now.  

“We don’t have to—“ 

“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you never did — you just loved to tease him, as you always did, “they’ve grown on me,” and you didn’t know there was more room for Yuji to grow on you, you thought his roots had already went far and deep, tangled around every inch of yourself and your mind, even your heart — but now—

“Does 2 PM work? I’ll come by and pick you up from your place,” and you didn’t know where it would go but— 

“Sounds perfect,”  he had found his way into a place you never thought anyone would find themselves in. — and as he hung up, biting your bottom lip—

And it seemed he was here to stay. 

“You’re such a cheater,” you glared at Yuji as he won for the tenth time at the boxing game — hitting the max score every time, “tell me what the trick is,” 

“You know I’m strong,” Yuji gapes,  holding his arm, “how would I cheat?” And you’re pouting, crossing your arms. 

“You’re cheating by being you,” and Yuji has to bite back his smile — you were being so cute — but he knows saying that will earn him a punch in the shoulder harder than you gave the punching bag on the machine, “now you have to buy me an ice cream,” 

“For?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“For being a cheater,” and he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips that earns him a bunch of slaps to his arm, before he’s wrapping that same arm around your waist, your complaints chased away by a gasp, “what—“ 

“I was going to buy you anything you wanted anyway, it is a date after all,” he smiles, and you stammer, but you don’t pull away, “what flavor do you want?” After you tell him, he goes off to the concession to buy you both some ice cream, and when he finds you at a table, he sees you’re not alone. His lips are a tight line, as he finds a guy leaning against the booth you sat in, clearly flirting with you, your back to Yuji so he can’t see your face. 

He finds his way back to you, his hand brushes your shoulder gently, “is everything okay?” He asks you, meeting your gaze without regard for the stranger — and he’s glad he did, because he spots your pursed lips and darting eyes that told him everything he needed to know, “you need something?” He asks the guy, a friendly smile on his lips. 

“Not from you,” the guy scoffs, “I was talking to—“ 

“Well, you’re talking to me now, not my date, so—“ and you’re leaning into Yuji, “you need something or not?” And the guy grumbles something under his breath before slinking away, and Yuji’s sliding in beside you when you move over, “you okay?” 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t leave,” you sigh, shaking your head, “sorry—“ 

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he murmurs, as he hands you your ice cream, “as long as you’re okay,” his arm slides around your shoulder and squeezes you, “i would’ve punched him if it wouldn’t have ruined our date,” 

You snort, as you lick your ice cream, “if you punched him harder than you did the bag, don’t know if this date would have ended with us going home,” and he pouts, as he laps at his ice cream, and he feels you turn to look at him, “Didn’t know you were the jealous type, Yu,” and he chuckles, he wanted to say — only when it came to you. 

But he knew that he couldn’t. Not like this.  

“I didn’t think I was either.” 

“Nope, not gonna admit it,” and Yuji’s grinning still, as the two of you walk out of the theater, his arm still around your shoulder, “no it wasn’t that good,” 

If there was one thing about Yuji is that movies were literally his obsession — one movie marathon when the two of you were teens had turned him into a fanatic. And he often ended up dragging you to all of them he saw in theaters — and you probably had watched the Human Earthworm movies the most amount of times anyone ever has — aside from Yuji. Well, more like you watched him watch it, because while he was smiling and laughing (or crying) at the movie, you were looking at him. 

And right now, he looked far too smug, “So you admit that it was good,” and you cross your arms, shaking your head, “I saw you tearing up at the end — I told you, it’s all about love!” 

You purse your lips, if only to hold back your smile, before sighing, “How would no one tear up at that ending?” And his hand’s grabbing yours, tugging at your arm, as the two of you walk along, “Yu—“ 

“I knew you liked it! C’mon, I knew you would, now what was your favorite part?” And your lips curl into a smile, “what?” 

That was one of the things you loved the most about Yuji, how excited he could get — how he loved everything so wholeheartedly with no reservations, and you knew he was the one person you could always count on to cheer you up. 

“Nothing, nothing,” you chuckle, letting your fingers lace with his, “my favorite part?” And you want to say — watching him enjoy the movie. 

But you can’t. 

“Probably the ending,” you slowly smile, “liked it when the credits rolled,” and he’s mock glaring, as you laugh before his arm tightening around your waist, “Yu-ji—“ 

“Not going to be honest?” He murmurs, before kissing your chin, “then maybe I’ll make you.” 

“Yu—ngh, please,” Yuji could get addicted to your taste, it was never enough, was it? His lips had spent the last twenty minutes kissing every inch of your face and neck, traversing over every nook and cranny as he always wanted to — and yet it was never enough. Any time spent with you was never enough —because you always made anything better, and nothing ever worse. 

And he knew no one else would ever feel this good. 

How many times had he imagined just this scenario? Of you in his bedroom with him alone, as you had been many times before, but never like this. You never looked at him like that before — with that shyness mixed with an undercurrent of want. And it was enough to rip him away and drag him under with you. 

“Please what, baby?” Yuji looks up with a wry smile and soft eyes that burn a path where as it raked down your body like coals across a fire, “want me to stop?” And he’s dragging a thumb down your untouched lips. 

You cover your face with the back of your hand, and he’s gently tugging it away, pressing a kiss to your wrist, your pulse jumping underneath, “I want more,” and fuck if he wasn’t at full mast from the kissing, he was now at your words, “I want you to…kiss me and…touch me,” you mumble, eyes averted, but he’s smiling all the same — you were so cute. 

“Where can I touch?” he asks softly, his nose brushing yours, “need you to tell me. I don’t want to rush—“ 

And your lips crash against his, your fingers finding the back of his neck, threading in his pink locks. He’s pausing a moment before he melts into your kiss, and you’re taking the lead, as you lean further into the kiss, your fingers sliding down from his shoulder to his chest. His tongue flicks against the seam of your lips and you part for him. 

“I want you to touch me,” you murmur as you break the kiss, panting, strings of your spit still connecting your lips, your breathy words nearly enough for him to lose all control, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it,” 

And he’s more than happy to oblige, his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, his hand toys with the hem of your shirt as permission, and you part from the kiss to nod. His hand slides up your soft flesh, pushing up your shirt along with it — finding your lacy bra underneath. He’s tugging the shirt up and over your head with your help, and god—

He has to stop himself from cumming right then and there at the sight of you. His fingers reach out, toying with the strap of your bra, “Did you wear this for me?” And you biting your bottom lip was all the answer he needed. 

“Yu—“ he’s tweaking your hardened bud through the fabric, “ah, fuck—“ and he leans down to suck the other side through your bra, while sliding down your bra strap. 

“Need to taste you,” and you’re nodding, while he’s reaching around to brush against the clasp of your bra to undo it, and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare skin — you’re so fucking pretty. 

He always thought you were pretty — when you were kids drenched from running around in the rain, when you were just waking up from a nap with your hair askew and dried drool in the corner of your mouth, when your eyes were wide with excitement and nearly jumping up and down to tell him good news; and when you’re smiling—especially when you’re smiling. 

It was his favorite thing. 

“Don’t stare so much,” you’re trying cover yourself, but his hands catch yours, easing them off, “It’s embarrassing—“ 

“You’re perfect,” and your lips part but no words come, but you can’t meet his gaze, “you are—“ 

“You’re just saying that—“ and his fingers pinch your nipple drawing a gasp from your lips, while he leans down and takes the other in his mouth. His eyes find yours, blown into deep, dark pools by his lust — ones you’d be more than willing to drown in. 

“I’d never just say that, especially to you, baby,” and you’re about to make a smart remark about him calling you ‘baby.’ But you forget every word you ever learned when his fingers start to drag down your stomach, fingers playing with the button of your jeans, “can I?” 

And you nod, your back arching ever so slightly as his lips press a sweet kiss to your bellybutton. He’s kissing down your soft legs as he tugs down your jeans — one to your thigh, another to your knee, and another to your ankle —before he’s kissing up the other. 

“How’s that feel?” he murmurs, eyes flitting up to meet yours, and fuck, your lips parted and swollen a pretty red, eyes half lidded with want, and — as his eyes fall between your thighs — a growing wet spot on your panties. 

His fingers toy with the elastic, snapping it lightly against your skin, a slight flinch only, as his eyes gaze at your clothed cunt with near reverence. He looks for permission, before he leans in to press a kiss to your swollen clit, a small yelp escaping your mouth. 

“Yuji,” you whine, lifting your head to meet his gaze again, “please,” 

“Say my name again, please,” he’s kissing your thigh gently, and it feels as if you’ll crumble under his touch any second, wither away in a figment of his imagination, and he won’t ever get the chance to hear you like this again, much less touch you. He was selfish to take advantage like this — and he knew he was — but he couldn’t leave it like this.

“Yuji, just touch me—“ and your head falls back as his fingers graze your clit through your nearly translucent underwear, “ngh, you fucker—“ and he’s chuckling, as he tugs your panties away. 

“Wanted to keep them on since you looked so good, but,” and he’s pocketing them with a grin, “I’ll just keep them instead,” your dripping walls twitch at the thought, “s’good for me. What do you want, my fingers or my tongue?” 

“Fuck, I don’t know, just touch—“ and your head lolls against the pillow as his tongue drags up flat up the length of your weeping pussy. 

“You’re so sweet — I could live here,” he murmurs, as his fingers spread your slick folds, a pretty moan falling from your lips as he does, “can’t wait to feel you cum around my fingers,” he’s easing a finger in — and you’re so tight, you’re tensing as he tries to part your walls, “relax, ok? I’ll be gentle. Don’t worry. I won’t ever hurt you,” his eyes meet yours and you’re nodding, as he pulls his finger away, a shiver at the empty ache, but it falls away into another moan as his tongue replaces it. 

The wet squelch of your folds is enough for him to cum right there — you smell as sweet as you taste, as he kisses your clit, before dragging the length of his tongue over your sopping slit again, “Yuji—fuck—“ your fingers find purchase in his pink locks right when he decides to sink a finger inside you again. 

“That’s it,” he grunts, as he works his finger knuckle deep into you, “so good f’me, so tight,” he’s murmuring, and your syrupy walls wrapped around his finger makes him wonder how good it will feel when his cock is inside you. He’s palming his erection through his pants, desperate for any kind of fucking friction, “g’nna add another,” 

And you’re nodding, “please, I—“ and a second finger joins the first, and the lewd noises grow louder from your slick and his fingers begin to pump faster — teasing and stretching your walls as they begin to flutter around you, “Yuji, Yuji—“ his name leaves your lips like a prayer, but he’s the one who would worship at your feet, if you’d let him, your moans and whimpers were all he needed to survive, and he’d give his very soul if it meant he could be at your side. 

His fingers are fucking you open, the tips of his fingers brushing against the spot that his your mouth falling open in a silent moan, “that’s it, cum for me, pretty girl,” and pleasure rips up your spine, as you cum all over his fingers, thighs shaking as you do. He fucks you slowly through your orgasm, helping you ride it out, until he’s slowing, leaning up to prsss sweet kisses to your face. 

“I’m going to pull them out slowly,” he murmurs, your eyes still fluttered shut, but they slowly open to watch him ease his fingers from you. Soft pants leave your lips as you watch him with lidded eyes lick his fingers sticky with your release clean. 

“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, as he moves up to lean over your face, and you’re nodding, “let me clean you up and we can sleep, ok?” he’s moving to get off the bed, but you grab his hand, and he tilts his head. 

“What about you?” You mumble, frowning, eyes flickering to the tent in his pants with a shy gaze, “I want to—“ 

“It’s okay, let’s just take it easy today,” he’s smiling, fingers finding yours and squeezing, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “you look like you’re about to pass out,” and you’re pouting all the same, but you seem to relent as the exhaustion sets in once again at your words, “I’ll be right back,” and he retreats to his bathroom to wet a washcloth, only to come back to you fast asleep. 

He chuckles at the sight of you sprawled out on his bed — a sight not uncommon to him on nights you spent over, but never like this before. He leans on the bed carefully, mattress creaking ever so slightly under his weight, as he begins to clean you gently — and luckily, you don’t wake by the time he’s done. He can’t put your jeans or underwear on so he opts to grab a pair of his freshly washed shorts and slides them on you. He adjusts the blanket, draping it over you, running his fingers through your hair to tuck it behind your ear, and the back of his knuckles over your cheek. 

“Yuji,” you mumble in your sleep, and he bites his lip — as he returns to his bathroom, softly shutting the bedroom door and the bathroom door behind him, a glaring problem to deal with, as he is still nearly waddling at this point from the grazing of his boxers against his aching erection. 

He undoes his jeans quickly, eyes fluttering as he pushes both down and strips his shirt off before slipping into the shower. The squeak of the shower faucet and the water running hopefully don’t wake you — but more importantly, he hopes his moans don’t.  

His dick was rock hard and aching still — there were so many times he nearly came in his pants, and by how drenched his boxers were — maybe he had. But fuck, you were so gorgeous, laid back and spread out for him. 

His fingers grazed his weeping cock, smearing the precum up and down his length, thumb tracing his slit, as you would. He could see you thumbing his head experimentally, as your eyes flickered up at him, doe eyes, yet glazed over with lust. It wouldn’t be long until you’re slowly pumping him, as he does now — from base to tip, teasing his balls all the same. You’d flick your tongue over the tip, sucking at the dripping precum — wrinkle your nose at the salty taste, but you’d suck at his tip all the same. 

He’d look down at you as your hand switches to toying with his balls, as you let his cock slap against your tongue, before letting his length slip past your lips. Your lips would feel so much softer than his hand does right now, jerking himself off, your plush lips and tongue wrapped around his dick. A low groan escapes his lips, as he covers his mouth, hoping you couldn’t hear him over the running water. The squelch of his precum and his soft moans would only make him want to repay the favor, making you cum over and over, until you were begging him to stop. 

Fuck, he was close, by the way his cock twitched in his hand — where would he cum with you? He’d cum anywhere you wanted — but to cum on your face or chest, the image made him shudder. Your tongue would flick out to clean up some of the cum, and—

Fuck, he moans your name, as he cums all over his fingers, his release sprayed against the tile of his shower, dripping down and mixing with the water. He’s panting, as he cleans his hand off in the shower, leaning his head back. 

What has he gotten himself into? Was it right for him to do this? You didn’t know how he felt — and he didn’t know if you would ever feel the same. But as he got dressed and crawled into bed beside you, keeping his distance as you slept, he felt you move closer, mumbling his name as you did. He couldn’t help but softly smile, running his fingers through his hair—it didn’t matter if you never ended up loving him, as long as you knew what you deserved—to be with someone who loved you, as much or even more than he did. 

He let himself drift off, a loose arm thrown over your middle—he’d let himself have this, if only for now. 

“Oh come on, you couldn’t get the ad free version, Fushiguro?” Nobara complains as yet another commercial comes on, as she glares at the black haired vet student, who sat on the floor after she stole his armchair. 

He only shrugs, bearing little to no reaction, “If you’re going to complain, then why don’t you pay for it?” 

Nobara and him begin to bicker ever so slightly, and Yuji chuckles in your ear, “are they more fun to watch then the show?” 

The four of you were at your apartment, watching a new season of a TV show you all had started last year. You were sat next to Yuji on the couch, your bodies nearly pressed against each other as you shared the blanket, a little cold from the rain outside. 

“They’re always more entertaining than the show, that’s why we agree to this,” you whisper back, the proximity of your bodies making your cheeks burn. You turn away, hoping he can’t feel or even hear the way your heart was beating down your ribs to burst free. Every time he shifted even slightly, you felt your body react — so conscious of even a twitch of his fingers — you wanted to bury yourself under the blanket. 

It had been like this since that night. 

You had woken up to him asleep beside you. Your eyes fluttered open as consciousness slowly crept into focus, sunlight filtering into sight, a small groan leaving your lips. And it wasn’t until you tried to reach for your phone you realized the thing beside you wasn’t a pillow but a person.  

Your eyes flew open and you found Yuji still sound asleep beside you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to sleep on the same bed — especially after a late night where one or the other didn’t want to go home — but it was different to wake up entangled with him, especially after the events of the night before came flooding back. 

And after that, each time you had been around him, you had become more and more conscious of his touch, nervous even, at the simplest of brushes of his fingers. And this? His body pressed against yours, his fingers grazing your thigh nearly, and his soft breath against your ear — god, you were going to lose it. 

“You ok?” he murmurs a half an hour later, and the question itself makes you squirm — because no, your hot best friend was pressed against you and making you want to do nothing more than kiss him— 

Wait, wait, hot? Your mind stutters at your own thoughts, lagging to comprehend yourself — hot? You wanted to kiss him? You always knew Yuji was hot, he was objectively — especially based on how many of your friends had wanted you to hook them up with him — but you had never thought of him that way. Maybe in passing — but to you, that was the one line you could never cross, especially when you had seen so many friendships fall apart because of a relationship. 

You never wanted to risk Yuji like that. 

But then here you were — blurring that line you said you never cross — and letting the ground split underneath the two of you. 

“I’m fine,” you mumble back — and yet here he was, seemingly unfazed by your proximity and as the minutes ticked by, it began to eat away at you. Did he not find it as meaningful as you did? Did he not feel as good as you? Do you need to touch him just to make him feel just as heartsick as you were? 

And now you know what you wanted to do. 

As the show went on, Nobara and Fushiguro fell asleep — Fushiguro asleep with a cushion he had stolen from Nobara’s armchair and Nobara curled up in said armchair, passed out. 

“Should we stop the show and go to bed?” Yuji asks you, albeit innocently — but there was anything but innocent intentions in your mind when you shake your head, a smile on your lips. 

“Let’s keep watching,” your fingers grazes his thigh, as you lean over, lips nearly brushing against his ear, “it’s just getting interesting, right?” 

And his breath hitches, “what’re you—“ and your fingers inches higher, grazing over his already tenting erection, a hiss escapes his lips, as he’s covering his mouth. 

“Shh, don’t wake them,” and your fingers are ghosting and teasing over his cock, the precum already starting to seep through the fabric, as he shifts under your touch. Your thumb flicks over his head, now fully hard, “so big already,” you mumble, and now your lips press sweet kisses to his neck, finding small cuts and bruises from his practices, and a gasp escaped his lips. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this—“ and your lips find his, and he melts so easily into your touch, your fingers toy with the elastic of his shorts, his eyes flickering to the two sleeping. He’s pulling away for a breath, lips utterly ruined — his fingers running through his hair, “please—“ and your lips curl. 

Your fingers finally brush against his leaking cock, and his head falls back, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, lips parted as soft pants left his lips. And you’re nearly shivering yourself at his want — seeping into your own body, as his pants and moans send a wave of heat between your thighs. 

You rub your thighs together, as you shift even closer somehow, “Gotta be quiet Yu — they can hear us after all,” you murmur, right as your thumb swipes over his slit, a yelp caught in his throat, as his hand flies back to lips, “good boy,” and his dick twitches at the praise, as your finger begins to trace along his veins, “so big, how am I going to fit you inside?” you murmur, biting back a smirk when a muffled groan reaches your ears. 

Your fingers finally curl around his length, you never thought a cock to be pretty — but Yuji’s was. You stared at it under the covers, flushed a lovely red, too dripping pearly beads of precum, and the slight curve it had to it — made the ache in your cunt only grow. 

“Please, baby, I need, please—“ he’s whining, “I need you—“ 

And you oblige him, your hand beginning to spread the pre along his length, beginning to stroke him slowly from base to tip. He’s biting his lip, hard, nearly drawing blood as he chooses to bury his face in the crook of your neck, if only to muffle any moans that fell from his lips. 

“S’good for me, Yu, wanna make you feel as good as I did,” his moan vibrates against your skin, cock twitching in your fingers, “gonna move faster, don’t want our friends to see you like this, do you? You have to be quiet,” and god, why did only seem to get harder at your words? 

Your fingers begin to jerk him off in earnest, the wet squelch of his cock nearly not hidden enough by the volume of the TV, but nearly don’t care at this point — you just want him to fall apart under your touch, need him to. 

And oh, he’s so close. His groans are more frequent, his hips jerking against your fist, and when your other hand finds his balls, squeezing — it’s too much. 

He moans softly, “I’m—“ and that’s all he manages before he spills on your fingers — warm, white spurts splatter against your palm and the blanket, dripping, as he falls back, limp against the sofa. His cock softened in your hand, as you pull it away, before gently wiping him clean with the already drenched blanket. 

He’s panting and fucked out, eyes half lidded as his chest rises and falls, watching you lick your fingers clear of his release, gaze never leaving his. 

“Didn’t know you’d taste this good—“ you barely can manage, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you. Your fingers slide against his cheek to cup it, feeling his hand tangle itself in your hair, “Yuji—“ 

“What was that about?” he murmurs, “not that I’m complaining but—“ but then Megumi starts to move and you both freeze, your breath catching, until Megumi seemingly falls back asleep, “we should head to bed, but—“ 

He looks at the blanket, and the mess you made of him and the couch alike. 

“The blanket I’ll toss in the washer, the cushion I’ll clean up and just turn over—“ and you smile, “and you take a shower before bed,” 

His brow still knits together, “but we haven’t—“ 

“We’ll talk later,” and when later came, Yuji found you fast asleep in bed, with more questions than answers. But he supposed, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his answers could come later. 

How long has it been? 

You stared at your phone — as if you could will it to receive the message you’ve been waiting for. As if it would grant your one and only wish for a text or a call — but it didn’t. Instead, it only gave you a spam call and a text to let you know you had a discount code for your favorite takeout place. 

Great. 

It had been a week since you had heard from Yuji — and a week since that night. You had woken up to the other three gone — gone off to their own apartments after you had slept in and texts on your phone from them in the groupchat. It was a few days before break — before you and Yuji would be heading back home for a few days together. But you hadn’t seen him at all since — not a chance to talk, much less seeing him. 

Was he upset? Was he done with this? Was his promise to stay empty in the end? Was it your fault — for pushing it, for agreeing to it, and for falling for it all the same? Falling for it or — your eyes trace the screen of your phone as if it’s his cheek — or falling for him. 

No, you rake your fingers through your hair, no, you didn’t love him — not like that. Not the way you shouldn’t, the way you had sworn yourself never to — but maybe all promises between friends were empty, when they were made like this. 

But you weren’t made to let this break apart. 

You found yourself at his door after classes, knocking at his door of his apartment. The door opens, and you find Yuji rubbing his eyes, hair askew, and shoulders drooped. 

“Hey,” he yawned, he’s still shaking off the shackles of sleep, “sorry, what’s up?” 

“Are you okay?” Your furrow your brow, your eyes spot the dark bags under his eyes, large enough to nearly engulf his eyes all together, “you look like you haven’t slept in days,” he steps aside to let you in, you glance around, his apartment wasn’t usually the cleanest — but it wasn’t a wreck like it was now. Clothes scattered, unwashed dishes stacked up, and papers strewn about. 

“I just haven’t…been sleeping—“ and then you remember. 

It wasn’t about you. It was about him. And you were so wrapped up in yourself, you weren’t thinking about him. 

“Yuji, you’re having those nightmares again, aren’t you?” You murmur softly, and the way his gaze falls to the ground tells you everything you need to know, “alright, go lay down,” 

“What?” he’s blinking, but your hand already finds his as you take him to his bedroom, “what are you—“ 

“You lay down. I’m going to make you dinner, and then you’re going to sleep,” and he sits on the bed reluctantly, fingers against his knees, as he bit his lip. 

“I can’t sleep, I told you—“ you cup his cheek, and guide his gaze to yours. 

“Remember what we’d do when you couldn’t sleep after the accident?” 

“This feels ridiculous,” Yuji murmurs into your chest, his head buried there, while your fingers run softly through his pink locks, “we’re not six anymore—“ 

“So what? Doesn’t mean we can’t do this still,” you say, as your fingers pause, “unless you don’t want me to,” 

“I didn’t say that,” he mumbles, and you can hear the blush in his voice that undoubtedly painted his cheeks, “I just meant it feels like I’m bothering—“ 

“Yu, don’t make me pinch you,” you murmur, rubbing his head, “you’re never a bother,” you kiss his head softly without thinking, and soon your cheeks are burning too, “sorry I didn’t—“ 

“Why are you sorry?” He chuckles, “we’ve done a lot more than kiss recently,” and he adds, “especially you,” 

You bite your lip, glad he couldn’t see your face like this, “I thought that’s why you weren’t talking to me, I thought you didn’t like what I did…on the couch, you know—“ 

“I know,” he chuckles this time, “and how could I not like that?” And you swallow the lump in your throat, as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that you choose to breach. 

“You haven’t had these nightmares in a while,” you murmur quietly, before you add, “we don’t have to talk—“ 

“I know, but it happens from time to time, especially this month,” and your brow furrows, “don’t wrinkle your forehead at me,” and you lean back to gape at him, a smile pulling at his lips, “you always do that when you find out I’m keeping something from you,” 

He moves ever so slightly away, turning to look at the ceiling, “Well I think I have a right because this is a pretty big thing to keep from me, Yu,” you pout, and your fingers begin to absentmindedly trace his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut — you always treated him so gently, like that something that could shatter, but he knew you would always be there to put him back together. Because you did that once already. Over a decade ago, “why didn’t you tell me?” 

Because he didn’t want to worry you. Because he didn’t want you to think of him still as that broken kid you watched after when he had his world fall apart. 

Because he didn’t want you to take that burden — he wanted to handle it himself. 

“I didn’t want to bother you—“ 

“It’s never a bother when it’s you,” and his voice catches in his throat — fuck, how did you always know just what to say? 

He takes a breath, “it’s just the same dream. Of the crash,” he could see something so clearly that he never experienced. He was at home with you when the crash happened — a play date Yuji had insisted on when he had cried and begged his parents to stay with you instead of going to dinner with them. They had relented — and that was the thing that left him alone. 

It was lucky that his grandfather was able to take him in, and stay close by — so he still got to go to school with you. 

“Let’s try to sleep, ok?” You murmur, “you’ll feel better when you sleep,” you cup his cheek, and he’s biting his lip, “what is it?” 

“What if I see it again?” He whispers, as if he’s afraid that his words were any louder he would speak it into existence. 

“Come here,” you say softly, your fingers gently guide his head to face you,  “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,” A sigh leaves his lips as he moves closer, letting you engulf him in your arms, his eyes shutting, and letting himself relax for a moment — the first moment in far too many days. 

When he let himself slip into sleep’s embrace—it was the first night he didn’t dream of the crash — he dreamt of you.  

And when he woke in your arms in the morning, your soft lips parted as you slept, sunlight dappled on your skin through his window, and the way your fingers held onto the fabric of his shirt — he knew, he knew he had to tell you how he felt. 

He needed to end this — his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear — if only to begin something new. 

You had to end it — it hadn’t sunk in until the car drove back home. The quiet morning drive left you both in a comfortable silence, the quiet white noise of his playlist, along with Yuji’s terrible singalongs and your bickering over his music choice. And you found yourself more than once staring at him as he drove, to the point where he had caught you looking. 

“What?” He tilts his head when the light turned red, fingers drumming on the steering, the other poking your side. 

“Nothing,” and you’re playfully slapping his hand away, a smile on your lips — same smile you always had with him. Always—because he’s your best friend. But he was so much more than that. 

You were in love. 

The two of you had returned to the place where you had laid your roots to rest and let your seed scatter to the wind. Only to return as a different flower altogether — but you knew, you couldn’t let it go on. 

It had become painfully clear that morning, you had woken first, the sun had not peaked over the horizon yet, and you found Yuji fast asleep — breaths even and face relaxed. You knew his parents had scarred him deeply — he spoke of them often, but not at all at — he mentioned their presence, but never his own feelings. You knew he had a habit of putting others above himself — but you had missed this — all of this week, you could have been there for him, but you were caught up in your own thoughts and you had made it all about yourself. 

And he deserved more than that. 

He deserved more than you. 

And you couldn’t risk losing him — lose him in a stupid argument or a disagreement and then never be able to comfort him again? Never be able to be by his side? You couldn’t bear to even fathom that. 

“Nanamin was asking about you,” Yuji says as the two of you walk home from the local convenience store — a late night run that produced a familiar bag of treats the two of you always shared when you came back home. 

“Oh really? Are classes over for high school already?” The English literature teacher had taken Yuji in for his last year and half of high school after his grandfather passed, and Yuji always stayed with him on breaks. 

“He asked if you were going to come with us to see my parents tomorrow morning,” it was a tradition to go visit Yuji’s parents graves each year around this time — you always paid your respects whenever you could, “he also said you’re free to stay over, but you have to sleep in a different bedroom,” you snort, “he said and I quote ‘we are past the age of sharing a room,’” You laugh, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “he’s not exactly wrong though,” his fingers graze yours, and there’s nothing more you want than to take his hand, but you know one way or another, you’d drop it in the end. Wouldn’t it be better now? When there isn’t far to fall? 

So you do, letting your hand fall away from his. 

“I’d be happy to see your parents, but I don’t know if staying over is a good idea—“ and he’s shaking his head with a chuckle in his throat. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t want to—“ 

“We should stop, Yuji,” and his smile slips off his face as if it was slapped off, he blinks, shock settling into confusion. 

“Why?” Only one word and it manages to break you all the same. 

“We just shouldn’t. This was supposed to be about teaching me, but i think I’ve learned enough,” you’re turning away, but his fingers are gently finding your wrist, “Yuji—“ 

“You don’t think I can’t tell when you’re lying?” Yuji asks, and your glass-like facade shatters so easily — why does it always have to break so readily when it comes to him? 

But you pull away all the same, “I can’t do this anymore. Not like this. I don’t want to. I can’t lose you—“ 

“You won’t lose me—“ but you’re already walking off, sparing a glance back. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning when we leave, Yuji,” and he’s opening his mouth to call out, but he stops himself, watching you disappear up the street. 

What just happened? 

The car ride to the cemetery is notably silent. Yuji’s eyes burned when he woke, head aching from the circles he ran around in last night, trying to figure out what happened. Nanami drives in the quiet, his eyes noting when Yuji chooses to sit passenger instead of beside you, only with one glance that’s averted after Yuji refuses to meet it. 

Yuji didn’t know what to make of what you said. After everything, he thought maybe — just maybe, you felt the same as he did. He thought he could tell you tomorrow, tell you when the two of you were alone — and even if it didn’t work out, it would be okay. 

But now — as his eyes stole a look at you in the rear view mirror, he wondered if it ever would be okay again. 

You left the car a moment to go use the bathroom when they stopped to fill gas in the car, and that’s when Nanami speaks. 

“So did you finally ask her out and she said no?” And Yuji’s head snaps to his, but Nanami only stares back, “you aren’t hard to read, Itadori. You’ve liked her for a long time,” 

Yuji scratches the back of his head, “I did something, kinda stupid,” and Nanami tilts his head, “really stupid, ok? And I was going to tell her how I felt, but she broke off what we were doing—“ 

“You weren’t dating?” Yuji’s cheeks burn as he waves off his teacher. 

“That’s not important! But what do I do, Nanamin?” the blond haired teacher raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s not hard to know what to do, Itadori. It’s what you should have done. Tell her how you feel,” and then you’re walking back to the car, “come on, let’s get back. We’re close now.” 

And your gaze avoids his own when Yuji watches you get back in the car, and his lips part as if to stop you — but he doesn’t. 

Not yet. 

You stood with Yuji as he tended to his parents’ graves. Simple stones that he was able to put in with time from his part time jobs, ones he had insisted he would pay for himself — refusing any help from anyone, even you. You knelt down, helping him clear the strewn dead leaves, brushing away dirt and snow — your fingers brushing when you both reach for the same place. 

And your eyes meet, as both of your fingers intertwine slowly — the three of you pay your respects, and Nanami finally stands. 

“I’ll wait for you two at the car,” Nanami says with a nod, leaving the two of you alone. You both already had placed offerings at their graves, arranging them slowly, as the two of you stand, the silence of the cemetery hanging overhead — light streaming in between clouds in the overcast sky, the sounds of the wind rustling the trees the only thing in the quiet. 

“Thank you for coming,” Yuji says softly, and your blink, eyes sliding to his. 

“You never have to thank me for that, Yuji,” you squeeze his hand, “as long as you want me to come, I’ll always be here. And I’ll always pay my respects to your parents, regardless of that,” you say, and that's exactly why you had to stop with him. You couldn’t bear to lose him — lose this, not when he’s lost too much and he was too much for you to lose, “come on, we should get back to the car,” as you pull your hand away from his. 

And maybe things could get back to normal. 

“I know,” and he doesn’t move as you turn to leave, “and that’s why I love you,” 

And you smile, “I love you too—“ 

“I don’t mean it like that,” and you freeze a moment, his words barely processing before he continues to speak, “I mean I do love you in that way too — but that’s not how I meant it now,” he says, as you turn to face him — not finding a hint of humor on his expression. 

“Yuji—“ your brain can barely process your best friend confessing to you — much less next to his parents’ graves— “should we be having this conversation—“ 

“It’s the perfect place to have this conversation,” he glances around at all of the graves, and he’s shaking his head, “maybe not the perfect place, but—“ his gaze softens when he finds yours, “you saved me,” 

“Yuji—“ 

“No, you did. After my parents died,” he stares at the stones side by side — “I could barely function. I barely wanted to do anything but sleep — but you, you pulled me out of bed. You made me go places. You made me smile again,” he says, “but that’s not the reason I fell in love with you,” his lips curl into a soft smile, “it’s because it’s you — your smile, your laugh, your being — it reminded me of happiness existed, and then I realized you were the only person who could make me happy the way you do,” 

“Yuji—“ 

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I don’t want to lose you, lose this chance to tell you how I feel, to tell you—“ 

“Yuji—“ 

“And I’ve always loved you — there’s never been—“ and you’re hugging him, before you even know you are, your arms are around his middle, face buried in his chest, as he murmurs your name. 

“The only reason I broke it off was,” your voice wavers despite your efforts to force it to stay even, “I didn’t to lose you by not being good enough—“ 

“You just have to be you,” his brow furrowed into the same valleys he teased you for, “you’re all I need,” his hand finds your cheek, guiding your gaze to his, “how could you think you weren’t enough?”

“You don’t tell how you feel sometimes — you don’t tell me what you’re thinking, I didn’t even know you had nightmares—“ you break off, “what if we continued this and you realized you deserved better than me? And it was already too late for me because I love—“ you break off. 

“You what?” he asks, and you’re biting your lip, “I’ll say it again if it will make you—“ 

Fuck it. 

You lean up and press your lips to his, swallowing his words as your hand finds purchase on his shoulder. And it felt right. As it always did with Yuji. 

“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you, in the same way you do,” 

“As a friend?” And your brow furrows, “kidding! Kidding—ow!” You’re smacking him playfully, before he catches both of your wrists and pulls you close, “does that mean I can call you mine?” 

“Or baby,” and he flushes, a cute pout on his lips, “what? Isn’t it—“ and he’s kissing you again, your heart leaping as he does, his hands sliding around your hips, “Yu-“ 

“And what’s my pet name? You still haven’t given me one—“ 

“Have some decorum,” a voice cuts through, and the two of you jump apart, as Nanami stands, glaring at the two of you, “come on, if you’re done paying your respects, then we should go home,” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “the dead shouldn’t have to put up with this.” 

Yuji’s cheeks are tomato red at this point — as he covers his face— but you only chuckle, your fingers intertwining with his, squeezing, “c’mon let’s go, and maybe I can give you a pet name when we get home,” and you both turn to face his parents, as you pay your respects and head down the path a little. 

Yuji faces his parents, kneeling down to say goodbye again — and he remembers how it was their idea to set up Yuji to have a playdate with you, all those years ago. And now, here you were — the most important person in his life. 

“Thank you for everything you did for me,” and he glances at you over his shoulder as he gets up, “especially for helping me find her.” 

“Yu-ji—“ you gasp, as he’s tugging you into your bedroom, bumping himself carelessly into the wall as he guides you both to your bedroom. You giggle as he presses you against the wall outside your room, “I text you my parents are going out for dinner and this is how you greet me? What happened to hello—“ 

His lips crash against yours and you forget about ‘hello’ and just about every other word in your head. Your lips curl against his lips, as his body cages you against the wall. It had been a few days since you and Yuji had been able to have a moment alone—Nanami was watching you both cautiously, while your parents had been keeping you busy at home, seeing family or cleaning up around the house. And Yuji was growing increasingly desperate for some time with you — that wasn’t hidden brushes of fingers under the table or stolen kisses out of sight from family or friends. 

“I missed you so much, baby,” he’s murmuring — and you didn’t know it was so possible to look like a kicked puppy so much until you met Yuji, “can’t believe Nanami was so mean and kept making us keep the door open—“ 

“It didn’t help that he walked in us making out on your bed three times—“ and a moan escapes your lips as he kisses your neck, teeth grazing against your racing pulse, “fuck, Yu—“ 

“How do you always taste so good?” he mumbles against you as he leads you inside your bedroom and shuts the door. His eyes glance around your childhood room, as he takes in the childhood posters plastered on the walls, the untouched books, the stuffed animals from a millennium ago that still lined your bed. 

“My family has not changed much here for years,” your cheeks burn, as he only chuckles, walking you backwards into your bed, and you climb into the bed, only grabbing a stuffed animal from behind you, “remember this?” 

He snorts, as he takes the stuffed penguin from your hands, “How could I forget? I tried a million times to win this,” 

You tilt your head, “You said you won it your first try—“ and you gasp as he looks away, cheeks flushed, “you were trying to impress me,” 

“Not that much,” and you’re leaning closer, brushing your lips against his, “maybe just a little,” you kiss him more insistently this time, sliding against his, fingers curling in his soft strands, “maybe too much,” and you smirk, noses bumping as your lips find each other’s again and again. 

And your fingers slide down to drag his shirt up and over, freeing his chest and abs to your sight — and what a sight it is. So toned and tanned from his American football practices in the sun — perfect for your fingers and lips to explore the peaks and valleys of his body, hands already far too eager.

He returns the favor by lifting your own shirt off in an instant, groaning when he finds you wearing nothing underneath — your eyes can’t help but flit down and find his erection already tenting in his sweatpants. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” his eager hands are already teasing and palming you breasts, a whimper drawn out by his precise pinches and touches, “so good for me,” and your hands drag down his chest, leaning down to press kisses to his chest as your fingers trace along his abs, making him groan. 

He’s pouting, after he pulls you into another kiss, “it’s not fair,” he mumbles into the side of your neck, “I feel like I’m always the one who’s more nervous than you are,” 

You chuckle, kissing his jaw, “I felt the same way, why do you think I touched you on our TV marathon that night?” 

And he’s blinking, as you lay back on the bed for him, “you didn’t know—“ you shake your head. 

“You had offered to help get experience, and even when we had done things, you were just so…normal,” he chuckles, before laying beside you. 

“I had some practice acting normal around you, but I really didn’t. I think you nearly gave me a heart attack that night,” and you grin, drawing so close that you even feel the hitch of his breath. 

“That good, huh?” You tease, and it only takes a moment until he’s hovering over you, lust pooled in his gaze that lights a fire on your body wherever it lays. 

And his lips meet yours right after he whispers, “I’ll show you good.” 

“One more, baby,” Yuji tells you, but you barely hear it through the haze of pleasure and heat that fills the room, along with the sounds of the squelch of his fingers in your tight cunt, “just need one more,” 

And how many times had he made you orgasm already? You’d lost count — five or six at least. The first had taken some time, working his finger into your weeping slit, the way your walls stretch around him make you wonder how good it will feel when he fucks you. It’s not long before he’s sinking another finger in, the sounds and feelings of his digits curling is enough to bring you to orgasm. And the rest are a blur — another finger in your tight entrance, fucking you open as he toyed with your walls, until you came again and again. 

And now he bent down, lips around your clit, teasing and sucking at the sensitive bud, as your fingers curled in his pink locks as the lewd moans fell from your mouth with ease. You’re so close — so fucking close, and when his fingertips brush against that spot and it’s all too much. 

You cum around his fingers and mouth, his name on your lips as you do, back arching against him, as he eases his fingers from your cunt. He licks his fingers clean as your eyes flutter open to meet his, “You taste so good, baby — you’re perfect,” and you watch as his tongue flicks out to clean his lips and chin of your sticky release. 

And soon enough he’s kissing you, hand cupping your cheek, letting you taste yourself on his lips, as your fingers drag over his bare chest and follow his happy trail into the elastic of his boxers. A soft moan leaves his kiss ruined lips, as his eyes are lidded with lust, soft pants against your skin. 

“Is this a dream?” Yuji murmurs, his lips ghosting along your jaw, “never thought we would get here,” and you turn your head to meet his lips in another sweet kiss. 

“It isn’t, we’re here. Took us long enough,” your lips curl, your fingers tracing over his cheek, “and nowhere else I rather be — or no one else I rather be with,” 

“You sure?” And you’ve flipped him over, kissing down his body, fingers tugging at the elastic of his boxers until his dick is freed from the fabric, “fuck, baby, you don’t have—“ 

And his words are cut off with a grunt as your fingers grazes his erection, teasing his weeping head. You start to pump up and down, working the thick beads of precum over his length, his head falling back. 

“How’s your cock so pretty, Yu?” you coo, blowing air over his dick, making him twitch in your hand, “never thought one of these would ever be so pretty,” you let his length slap against your tongue, slowly dragging it down your 

He hisses, hands grasping at the sheets, as you bend down to flick his tongue against the head of his cock. Your lips close around it, and suck, raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth, “fuck, s’good, baby, I—“ 

And you’re letting his cock sink past your lips, your tongue flicking against his slit. Your eyes find his own, as you hollow out your cheeks and sucking hard, and his hips buck into your mouth. His tip brushes against your throat, and you’re moaning around him, your fingers cup his balls, nails digging into your scalp. 

“Baby, fuck, I’m close—where—“ and he’s trying to ease you off, but your hands only hold his hips in place. Your nose brushing against his pubes. And when you’re suck hard on his tip, toying with his sack, only for him to moan your name, before cumming down your throat, his hot release painting your insides. 

You’re slowly pulling off his dick, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips to his cock, a smile on your face. You swallow his release, the salty taste still on your lips as you watch him pant, chest rising and falling. 

“Taste so good, Yu,” you murmur, and you’re moving back up to kiss him, “think I’m addicted,” you murmur, as your lips find each other again and again. 

“Now you know how I feel,” he smiles, fingers running through your hair, “been addicted to you for over a decade,” and he’s sitting up, guiding you into his lap slowly, “we can always stop right here, we don’t have—“ 

You kiss him softly, the way he deserved, the way you’ve wanted to for so long, “I want to, Yuji, I really want to,” your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his hand, his arm slipping around your waist, “because I love you,” 

And your fingers grasp his hardening cock, pressing it to your dripping slit, and god, he’s so fucking big. You knew how big he was, but just feeling him pressed against you makes you ache at how he’ll be stretching you out. He drags his dripping tip against your slit, letting your cum mix together, letting his head catch on your clit. 

Finally, you’re sinking onto him, his thick length parting your walls, inch by inch. Your head falls back, as he leans into your touch, watching you flinch at the stretch, “you okay?” Yuji’s pressing sweet kisses to your lips and cheek, “should I stop—“ 

“No, no, I’m fine, it’s starting to feel good,” your arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck, “ and he’s helping you sink into him, until finally your hips are flush to his, “fuck, Yu—you’re so deep—“ his cock twitches against your walls, a shiver up his spine at your words. 

And he’s panting, his lips pressed to your shoulder, “you feel s’good, baby — so wet and warm—“ you smile, cupping his cheek, “can’t believe this is real — can’t believe—“ 

“It’s real, Yuji, it’s real,” your lips curl into a smile, “I’m here, I love you,” 

“I love you too, I love you so much,” he kisses you again and again, as he shifts slowly under you, swallowing a gasp that leaves your lips. 

“Please, Yuji, move—“ and he obliges, beginning to fuck into you, and your head falls back, as his cock rocks into you, a moan falling from your lips as you do. He’s groaning your name again and again, a grunt when you begin to ride him in tandem, both of your thrusts sending him deeper into you. 

“Baby, fuck, you’re perfect. You’re so good f’me,” his lips finding your neck, as his strokes become faster and deeper, the sounds of your skin slapping together rings in your ears as he fucks you harder and harder, “g’nna cum, s’close,“ 

“I’m close too,” you’re panting as his lips find yours in a sloppy, messy kiss that has you losing yourself more and more, as his thrusts become more and more swallow. And when he finds your clit between your bodies, rubbing as he finds that one spot that has you seeing stars, “Yuji- I’m—“ 

And you cum hard around him, soaking his cock and thighs as you do, walls squeezing him tight until he’s spilling his warm seed inside you. You slow as you do, legs quivering, as you nearly slump against him and he holds you impossibly closer. He helps you both detangle, easing his softening cock from inside you, a small groan as he sees your mixed releases leaking from you. He helps you lie back, as he wraps his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers, brow furrowed in slight worry as your eyes flutter open, lips curling as your fingers smooth the wrinkles of his forehead. 

“I’d be better if you’d kiss me,” you whisper and he obliges, a soft kiss to your lips that leaves you warmer than you were before, “now I’m perfect,” 

“You always were,” and you chuckle, rolling your eyes, before shaking your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

“No, that’s because I had an excellent teacher,” and he laughs, before he pulls you even closer, finding your lips in a kiss. 

“And you always will.” 

“Come on, Fushiguro, pay up,” Nobara holds out her hand, as Megumi glares, pulling out his wallet and plucking money from his wallet and handing it to her. 

“You cheated,” he says as she snatches the money, counting it with a grin on her lips, “I don’t know what you did, but I know you did,” 

“You never said we couldn’t give them advice,” she grins, as she pockets his money, “and all I did was give Yuji a nudge, he’s the one who fucked—“ 

“Alright,” Megumi rubs his temples, “I get it, but it’s still unfair — we’ve been waiting for them to get together all these years and all of sudden he gets the idea to become her friends with benefits—“ and Nobara only grins wider, “you didn’t—“ 

She shrugs, “you can wait around for two idiots to figure it out, or you can shove them off the deep end.” 

“I knew you cheated,” Megumi grumbles, “that’s the last time I ever make a bet with you, Kugisaki,” 

And she smirks, “Well now you’ve been taught a lesson too.” 

✧ a/n: another celebration fic done! now just one more and then i can start preparing for the next follower celebration :). i've settled on using wips but i'll pick out a bunch of prompts for you all to request for certain ones. that way, you all have had a hand in them <3. thank you to laney for helping beta <3.

✧ taglist: @adrenova, @nakariabnrb, @skvllknight, @hanlay, @spider-fan72, @anonimusunnoaniswriting, @chososcamgirl, @thenezuko, @catsgomurp, @too-much-snow, @sashaiko, @forest-fruits-jam, @rita-ritarita, @anyaeuh, @dezznuggetsblog, @jayathelostdragon, @newspapergirlmal, @2livelaughlovefictionalmen2, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @xoocii, @firelordazulaaaa, @cira273, @twosec0nd, @ororomunroro, @sunamatic, @withoutanameyet, @gojorgeous, @masctomboy805, @hantaslittlearsonist, @lemonpoppy-seed, @malmare, @teraine, @boopadoopa333, @jeyughh, @coffeebun17, @faeryli, @katienaps, @tojbitch, @fushitoru, @soulofoz, @yamaguccitadashi

[aviawrites]

the tragic mishaps of farleigh and lena start: a saltburn story

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳!𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩, 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹, 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘩!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳(?)

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘖𝘹𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘍𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘵 𝘚𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘺. 𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥; 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦. (2.8𝘬)

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘴

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵?? 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘵𝘮𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘴:𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘰... 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘪𝘭𝘺<3

𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺, 𝘺/𝘯 𝘪𝘴: Lena Start

📍OXFORD | June 20th, 2006

“You’re sure you need a tutor?” Oliver asks, wrinkles between his brows. “You seem to know this stuff.”

“No, it’s my fucking professor.” You roll your eyes, “He made it mandatory for us to pass.”

“What, the entire class needs a tutor?”

“Not the entire class, just us. Like, me, Felix, Annabel, India- That lot. They weren’t exactly on their best behavior that day.” You twirl your curls around your finger.

Oliver looks up from the textbook, his head slightly tilted as the golden sun beaming into the empty library reflects in his eyes.

“Felix…I’d-“ He looks back down. “I’d expect that out of him, maybe. But you?” 

“What, you think I’m a top of the class star student like you, Oliver?”

“No, no.” He shyly chuckles, “I dunno, I just thought you’d be the one to whip ‘em into shape, you know?” 

“God, no one can whip Felix Catton into shape.” You retrieve a lighter and cig from your pocket, flicking the flame until it sets alight.

Oliver’s glistening eyes dart around the dim media center like a child stealing candy.

“Are you sure you should-“

“Oh, fuck off, Oliver. Don’t act like you haven’t smoked here before.” You inhale, chuckling. “You reeked of it when you left Felix’s room the other day, please.” 

“You saw me leave Felix’s room?”

“I did.” You smirk as his expression progressively fills with some unknown yet frantic emotion, “Were you two cooking meth in there? Good God. Breathe, love.”

He nervously laughs, a hint relief in his breath.

“No, not that. I was just…I was telling him how my dad…” He trails off as you listen intently, finishing the sentence in your head. “He invited me to stay for the summer. At Saltburn.” 

“Did he, now?” Your brows raise, your smirk now forming a smile. “Well congrats on losing your soul to Felix, mate. Join the club.” You laugh, blowing smoke into his face.

“Will you be there too?” He asks, disregarding your previous comment.

“If I survive this semester, then yea. Farleigh and I are there every summer.” 

“Farleigh…” Oliver mumbles, almost to himself.

“…My brother.” You remind him, deciding to leave the ‘step’ out for the first time in forever.

“Yeah, yeah! Farleigh, I know him.” He assures you.

You just chuckle at his skittishness, “What about your academics, Mr. Einstein? You chuffed for your exams?”

“Erm, I wouldn’t say that, no. You know, I’ll do them, of course. But I guess I’d rather not. Felix says I should skip them.”

“He’s right, no? Fuck’s sake, your father’s just passed and you’re tutoring for bloody exams?”

“My tuition isn’t payed for like yours, Lena. I have to stay here.” 

You slowly nod as you lean back in your chair, your elbow perched on the arm. “You think I’m a spoiled rich girl, huh?” 

“No- I didn’t say that-“

“But that’s what you meant.” You insist. “Just because I live with the Catton’s doesn’t mean I can’t understand you, Ollie. I’m not your fucking God like Felix-“

“Felix isn’t my God-“

“Well he’s all you’re eager to talk about.” You continue, not missing a beat. “I’m not him. I’m not Farleigh, I’m not Annabel, I’m not India. I’m not built in a factory like them, alright? Maybe someone actually likes you for you, Ollie, can you believe it?”

You motion your mind being blown, evoking a small laugh out of Oliver.

“Anyway,” You tap on the textbooks, “Back to this.” You sit up straight in your chair.

📍SALTBURN  | July 15, 2006

The cold marble flooring shocks you awake as you tip-toe through the dark house. Moonlight shines through the floor to ceiling windows, the only illumination present. Your too-long-for-you plaid pajama pants do little to keep you warm in contrast to your too-tiny-for-you flimsy tank. 

You grab a glass off of the counter. Light suddenly becomes abundant as you pull the refrigerator door open. You squint, only being met with ingredients - no food. You throw your head back, a light groan escaping you before settling on wine and retrieving the already opened bottle. 

You pour a glass that may as well weigh your body weight before putting it back, slamming the door and spinning on your heels.

“Oh!” Your body jolts as you see a flash of a shadow passing the window and approaching the exterior door. Your blood runs cold and you’re frozen in place for a millisecond before seeing the shadow enter, suddenly becoming a man.

“Jesus, Oliver.” You hold your chest, setting your glass on the island. “You could’ve fucking killed me.”

“Sorry…” He holds his elbows. 

It’s now that you realize he hasn’t changed clothes from this tea time with Elsbeth. Only having his thin dress trousers to cover the prominent print underneath them.

“What are you even doing?” You inquiry, regaining your footing. “It’s like 2 in the morning and fucking freezing.”

“Oh, I was just- I was looking out of my window at the garden. Reckoned I’d-“

“Looking at the gardens at 2am, that’s completely normal.” You kid, sipping your wine, “And you just, what, went out and looked at the flowers while powering your nose?”

“Powdering my nose.” He lets out that familiar nervous laugh.

“I was going-“

You’re cut off by the door opening again. Though it’s dark, you’d recognize the grown out roots if they were inside out. 

“…Hello, Venetia.”

You get no answer. She only fiddles with her dress and continues to beeline for her room, keeping her head down.

You slowly turn your attention back to Oliver. Your eyes scan his tall frame. Nothing stands out, nothing but the glistening wetness around his lips. The moon almost makes it out to be deep red, the illusion of a vampire boy standing before you. 

Disheveled Venetia and unordinary Oliver coming in from the garden forces your mind to go to one place. The same place it went a few summers ago when you caught Eddie in the same spot.

“Hm,” You hum, sipping once more. “You’re an odd one, Ollie.”

📍SALTBURN | September 9th, 2006

Oliver rushes into the vast bathroom, throwing his cufflinks onto the floor.

“He’s humiliated me in front of everyone.” He breathes heavily, staring at himself in the mirror.

“It’s the Henry’s, they humiliate themselves.” You rest your back in the doorway, breath short from chasing him upstairs.

“No, it’s not funny, Lena. It’s serious.”

“Oliver, Farleigh’s a dick, you know this.” You scoff. “Our family’s going through something, alright - He’s already stressed. You imposing on his life only makes it worse. Just…give him time.”

He leans and rocks his hips on the counter edge, angrily wrapping a towel around his hand.

“He’s lucky people were around...”

“Ollie, please.” You laugh a little harder than you mean to, “What would you have done, fought him? Taken him back to the Oliver factory and put batteries in him? He just sees you as a threat, it’s not a big deal. He’ll get over it, I swear-“

You damn near duck behind the doorframe when Oliver’s wrapped fist makes contact with the, now shattered, mirror. He only stares at the impact point as your jaw hangs open. You linger on him, listening to his breaths becoming more frantic and his fist still shaking out of fury. 

You don’t dare speak to this Ollie. You’re far too afraid to. 

📍SALTBURN | September 10th, 2006

“I would never do this shit- Why would I do this? It makes no fucking sense.” Farleigh can barely speak through his sobs. 

“I know, Farls, I believe you.” You rub his curled up body, his shaking bones vibrating through the bed. 

The tension in the house grows thicker by the minute as the accusations against your brother spread like a virus. 

You comfort him, as he would you. But no matter how much you believe every word he says, you have to recognize how terrible it looks.

“Someone had to fuck-“ He sniffles, “Fucking blackmail me or something.”

“But who would do that, Farleigh?” You ask, knowing full well he’s a prick to half of Oxford’s student population. 

“We’re with the fucking Cattons!” He weeps, “We’re a target to everybody! It could’ve been anyone, Lena! God, they’re never going to help mom out now that-“

“Hey, hey.” You stroke his hair. “I’ll figure this out, yeah? I promise.”

Farleigh continues to bawl, incoherent. You can’t help but hear the same gossipy whispers that you’d once been a part of in the next hall over. It’s instantly recognizable.

“I’ll be back.” You press a kiss onto your step brother’s shoulder before heading toward the door, shutting it behind you.

The hushed talk gets louder and louder as you near Venetia’s bedroom. The door may as well have been wide open, as they haven’t bothered to close it. 

“You have to admit…It’s a little bit dark. Him having to go to mum and dad with a begging bowl.”

“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo.” 

You creep into the doorway. Venetia lays on the floor propped on her elbows, her brother sitting on her bed. 

“Alright, yes, it was incredibly fucking stupid. He-“

“Felix.” She cuts him off, making eye contact with you.

You defensively cross your arms, “Oh no, don’t silence yourselves now. You’ve shit talked him all morning. Please, go on.” 

“Lena…” Felix says softly.

“No, it’s fucking sad how quickly you turned on him. How you’d even believe he’d do something so stupid. Honestly, I feel sorry for you. It’s utterly pathetic, really.” 

“He turned on us first.” Venetia calmly voices, never being one to stand down to you. 

Felix nervously scratches his head, “Venetia-“

You shrug, “Someone must have set him up. Obviously he didn’t fucking do it.”

“What if he did?” She asks, not seeming to care how it makes you feel.

“He didn’t.” You sneer, her smoky fog filling your senses. 

“Lena, how would you even know?” Felix quietly speaks up. “The two of you barely even speak-“

“Fuck you, Felix.” You directly your wrath at him, “Both of you know Farleigh. He hasn’t done anything like this before, why the fuck would he start now?”

“We had an argument…a few days ago.”

“Jesus Christ.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. 

“I’m just saying it might have been a trigger-“

“A trigger? What, is he a fucking mental patient. You argue all the time that doesn’t make him a thief.”

“Lena - If you’re so fucking sure - Please do tell us who would set Farleigh up, of all people.”

You tilt your head slightly, desperately wondering what she implies by of all people. Nevertheless, now is as good of a time as any to voice your theory.

“…I saw Oliver near his bedroom last night.”

The both of them immediately sigh, Venetia taking another puff as Felix rubs his temples. 

“Great, Farleigh’s got you believing that rubbish.” He groans.

“It’s not rubbish, Felix. It’s the only way someone could’ve sent it through his phone.”

“Lena, Farleigh’s been jealous of Ollie ever since he met him. It’s fucking delusional for Christ sake.”

“You’ve known him for- What? Three, four months? And you’re 100% confident he wouldn’t lie? Maybe he’s the jealous one Felix, he’s clearly obsessed with you.”

“What on earth would he have to lie for?” Venetia slurs, almost in her own world.

“Maybe for what Farleigh pulled last night, I don’t fucking know.” 

“Lena, just stop.” Felix raises his voice. “This…hate is so one sided it’s honestly pitiful.”

Your mouth hangs slightly open as it hits you that they truly have no intent of hearing you or your brother out. They’ve already made up their minds.

“…We’ve known you our entire lives, Felix. Our whole lives.” Your voice quivers, “Sweet baby Oliver’s been here a few months and already taken our place, yet we’re delusional.”

 A thin stream of water lines your eye, Felix seems to notice.

He stands, his voice softening as he nears you with consoling arms. “No, Lena don’t-“

“Believe whatever the fuck you want.” You push him away, storming out. 

📍SALTBURN | October 5th, 2006

“And you’ll cling on to it, and comb over it and jerk off to it.” Farleigh towers over Oliver, leaning down to be eye to eye. “And wonder how you’ll ever get it back. But you don��t get it back, because your summer’s over.”

Oliver only stares with fire in his moonlit pupils before shifting them to you. This was the Oliver you saw shatter the mirror. This was the Oliver that Farleigh sniffed out since the moment they met.  

“Has he gotten to you too, Lena?” He asks in that same frantically-trying-to-stay-composed tone that he had the night of ‘Rent’.

“Here you go, spinning your web again-“

“Fuck you.” He scolds your brother, eyes treading on you. 

“…She just sees what I always have. A fucking rat - burying his way in our family and chewing us out from the inside.” Farleigh says, his tone grave.

You lean on the stand, snorting a small pile of white dust off of your pinky. “Just go home, Ollie. Make our lives easier, yea?”

📍SALTBURN | October 6th, 2006

Your knuckles are coated with tears and your hand stays tightly over your lips. Farleigh and Venetia let out silent sobs on the grass, the minotaur seeming to laugh as he’d seen it all happen. Your bones shake in your legs, but they can’t seem to buckle. The harder you cry the more you struggle to want to breathe again.

James joins his still son on the ground, asking him to stand. The angel only lays there, a renaissance-esque feel to the image. 

“J- James we-“

“…I think…I think the police.” Farleigh suggests, hardly intelligible.

Elsbeth agrees, calmly walking off from the scene. Each grassy footstep seems to push the world around you further and further away. Now, it seems to be only you, Felix, and the minotaur. The three of you staring at the results of spotting a moth far too late.

…

“What the fuck are you still doing here?” Farleigh’s shaking voice pierced the tension filled silence. “Does no one else find it weird?”

“I wouldn’t throw stones if I was you, Farleigh…” Oliver’s eyes cut through him. 

“…Excuse me?”

“Please stop.” Venetia sniffles.

Your eyes press shut, preparing for what the two plan to blow up over now. “Farleigh…”

“What is he saying?” 

“I…I have no idea.”

“What I’m saying is I would feel guilty, too.” Oliver speaks, now with an unforgiving spite in his voice that the Catton’s seem to miss.

“Guilty?”

“Oliver, it is not the time-“

“You as well, Lena.” He says, your fingertips beginning to feel clammy. “I’d feel terrible if I was the one racking up lines the night someone died.”

The tears seem to be sucked out of your eyes only to fill up again with brutal force. They shift to your brother, his mouth agape.

“F- Fuck you.”

“That’s not a denial.”

The Catton’s look at the two of you like imposters. A wrinkle forms between your brows, looking back at them the same way. 

For you can’t produce a near good enough reason for why your family, your blood, would use the words of someone like Oliver as fuel to burn someone like yourself. He’s an alien, a foreigner, a stranger. 

“…Is that true?” James asks, seeming to jump at the opportunity to take his emotions out on anyone or anything. “Search their rooms.” He orders a footman.

Farleigh whimpers, “No.”

“He didn’t do anything!” You slightly raise your voice, slurring through the tears as you struggle to catch your breath. You turn your attention to Oliver. “Would you let us be for one fucking second?”

Venetia numbly over pours her drink, “Please, please stop.”

Oliver slyly looks around the table, “I just thought they should know.”

“S….Shut the fuck up.” Farleigh begs, barely audible.

“What’s happening?” Aunt Elsbeth asks, miserably confused at all of what she’s feeling.

“This fucking cockroach,” You stare daggers at Oliver, fury now replacing the previous timidness in your voice. “Has only lied, and deceived, and swindled his way through this house. He made us all believe him but- Oliver, I see through you.” You lean across the table, nearing him. “You’re an obsessed maniac who fed off of Felix until you consumed him.”

“Don’t you mention his name!” James frantically tries to keep his grief at bay.

Your brother’s chair scoots out with a terrible screech as he stands. His hand is sealed over his mouth as he rushes out of the room, giving in to defeat. You can only watch him go.

The silence after he closes the door behind him is enough to deafen the four of you. You scan the table, a blank expression contrasting your tear stained cheeks. 

Your eyes rest on Oliver, though, you don’t plan to speak another word to him.

“When he devours you all…” A hushed voice comes out of you with a rasp as you target the family. “When he drives you to madness like he did your son.” Your head pivots behind you, landing on Duncan. “Do not say you weren’t warned.” 

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 ꒱ 석우현

summary : you've been getting secret admirer notes for the better part of your senior year, however you never expected them to be from your best friend

genre : fluff, matthew x afab!reader, hs!au tws : language, kiss author notes : i hope you enjoyed your request @sadfragilegirl thank u i love machu ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ♡.°₊ˎˊ˗ word count : 1.2k

you couldn’t believe it. how long had it been? you, in all reality, couldn’t remember the last time you didnt open your locker to a note falling out of it. you picked the meticulously folded notebook paper off the dusty floor, studying the small red penned-in heart — the signature; whoever it was.

if anyone was to ask, which they have, if you had any idea who was sending you secret admirer notes almost every week now, you wouldn’t be able to answer them. you didn’t even have any candidates, because if someone loved you secretly, they sure as hell were good at keeping it that way.

maybe it was out of embarrassment, but at this point you’d like to know anyways.

“another one?” a familiar voice broke through the average chatter of a high school hallway, “what is this, the second this week? he’s getting bold.”

“maybe they’ll finally confess.” you laughed out at the light brunette. “it’d be about time. i think it’s been a little while, hasn’t it?”

he cut you off promptly, “since november, and we’re graduating in a couple weeks.” your eyebrows raised in amusement at his details into your life, “so… yeah. a little while, i guess.”

"wow, matthew... i might start thinking they're yours." you gave him a serious look, which morphed into you both hysterically laughing — even to the point where passerbys were giving you a dirty look. “that’d be so cliché! oh my gosh, could you imagine the look on my face if you confessed your love to me?”

"i'd never." he acted offended, "that's fucking disgusting."

you pouted, acting offended back, "what the fuck! i'm not disgusting!" then you both broke into another laughter then received dirty looks here and there. “but seriously, tell me now if they’re yours, matt. wait! actually don’t, i’ve got to mentally prepare myself. tell me tomorrow!” you spewed out through jagged breaths.

and that’s how you ended up with your jaw dropped to the floor. your bestfriend sat in front of you, knee bent over his thigh leisurely — in contrast to the way his head hung, face a deep shade of red. matthew wasn’t the type to feel embarrassed about much, being extroverted and all, but he couldn’t help it this time; not when you looked at him so confused it basically broke his heart on the spot.

he looked up briefly, catching your eye and immediately cowering, “i-i thought you’d hate if i did something over the top, y/n. i’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time now — i’m sorry, but when you said tell me tomorrow, it made me think you already knew.”

you blinked a couple of times, “well, i did not.” you replied, pouring salt on his open wound, “and, thank you? for this.” you held the cute plushie between your hands, another note plastered between your skin and the artificial fur. “but, matthew, i-i don’t even know what to say right now. you’re my bestfriend of years… wha-why?”

you could see him biting his lip, and honestly him not looking at you was making you angry for some reason. you weren’t disgusted at the thought of him having a crush on you. no, actually you were quite delighted deep down that your late night fantasies — that you deemed beyond stupid — were actually true. how could you not like matthew? he exuded boyfriend-energy. he was your golden retriever bestfriend, so why couldn’t he be more?

you were just confused as to why; why now? why wait so long? why give you letters for months? why you?

you, in contrast to him, weren’t very sought after by the people at your school. not that you were unlikable in the slightest, you were just so engrossed in your studies that it made it hard to have a romantic life. and, people seemed to have figured that out the older you all grew.

the question circled around in his head. why? truthfully, why not? matthew thought of you as the moon to his sun. the star to his sky. the light to his dark. he looked for comfort within you, always knowing that you were the one to pick him back up. it’s like you were his prescription drug; his happy pill; his serotonin; his oxytocin.

his love.

he’s known that he’s loved you like a bestfriend for a long time. and somewhere within those years it deepened into something a more than that. now, he loved you like you were already his girlfriend. he loved you so deeply that any ounce of rejection from you would send his heart reeling with physical pain.

maybe he was crazy, he thought, maybe he stupid for thinking that there was a chance with someone like you. someone he saw so far out of his league. he cursed himself for confessing, he could’ve been contempt secretly adoring you because it’s not like he didn’t get to see you everyday.

it scared him — you scared him. there was a lot of debating that went into his confession, but there seemed like none now. and the thought of losing you over something this silly put a pit in his stomach.

“y/n. let’s just forget it. we can pretend this never happened. this is just a stupid prank by your bestfriend. a platonic-valentine from me, okay? nothing more than that, i’m sorry. i just don’t want to lose you as, at least, a friend. you’re more important than a stupid crush, y/n.”

you tried to listen to matthew ramble, but couldn’t help focusing on your racing heart. did he mean that? was he really willing to push aside his feelings to keep the friendship alive?

no, you didn’t want that. you didn’t want to forget now that you knew. and maybe you always have. maybe you knew that eventually matthew would be the one to hold your heart for real. you thought you must’ve been the most oblivious person to not see this coming, but maybe the jokes you made every time about the notes being from him were you subconsciously thinking it — wishing it.

you put the stuffed rabbit on the bed, scooting closer to him. matthew was so taken aback that his eyes grew three sizes, and he strained his spine, just a little.

“matthew,” you punctuated, “i’d be so stupid to not admit that i’ve felt the same way. honestly, i wasn’t interested in the whoever the notes were from because they weren’t you — at least, i didn’t know it was at the time.” you giggled slightly, “it’s kind of adorable how shy you’ve gotten.”

it must’ve calmed him down a bit, as his sassy demeanor came back ever-so-slightly. he huffed, “shut up.”

“what? i’m serious! it’s cute.” you poked his rosy cheek, his hand flying up to trap your wrist gently. your eyes locked, and for a moment you had to fight off the unsteady beating that matched your hitched breath. the truth is, you’ve never seen matthew so close to your face before. he always kept a platonic distance because he never wanted to make you uncomfortable; you were boy-girl bestfriends after all, and he’d never be the one to take advantage of that fact. but now that he was inches from you, you didn’t want him to back away.

your stomach was in knots, and if this is what real butterflies feel like…

“y/n?” he searched you for any kind of discomfort, “c-can i? ca—“

and before he got the chance to get it out, your free hand cupped his cheek, pulling his face into yours to finally acquaint your lips.

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

— perm tag list .ᐟ send an ask to be added c:

[jenna-ortega]

grey november

vertigo act iii

pairing - joel miller x female reader word count - 4.1k warnings - angst, pinv, meanish joel, tommy being a golden retriever, kissing, joel is stupid as always but he redeems himself, also fluffy joel a/n: hello all! hope you like this chapter! it proved to be difficult, since i hate writing fluff but lowkey it's there. let me know how you like it, and if you have any ideas for what you want to see next..i may or may not heed that advice ;)

SUMMARY: you and joel speak about what you saw, and you've decided you need time. needing time being you running and hiding from joel every chance you get. that is...until he catches you at thanksgiving. can you forgive him for what you think he's done? joel sure hopes so.

previous chapter - series masterlist

series playlist by the wonderful @lovers-liability

"Didn't expect to find you here," Joel muttered, crossing his arms. You turned off the faucet, swallowing hard before meeting his gaze. "I needed a moment," you replied, your voice steady but laced with unease. "A moment, huh?" Joel scoffed, his tone cutting through the air. "Funny how you seem to need a moment every time we're in the same room lately." You averted your eyes, the memories of your last conversation with Joel resurfacing. "What are you even doing here, anyway?" Joel continued, his frustration palpable. "Tommy invited me."

You had fallen for Joel Miller, and now you had to deal with that. You had to deal with the suffering only someone who had power over you could cause. Your body aches as you’ve spent countless nights awake, wondering what this suffering was supposed to mean. Does it make you stronger? Does it thicken your skin? Is suffering always meant to be brushed aside as a means of growth? Suffering has no glorious purpose. It only hurts. 

It takes courage to lift your bones from your bed, to face the same pain you’ve been feeling through every simmering sun, and every crested moon. A man can do this to a person? You think to yourself. You want to ask him why, you want to shout at him, and beat at his chest. You want to hug him and kiss him all at the same time. Fall to the feet of the one who broke you and look for the healing you desperately needed. You feel yourself changing as the leaves start to change outside…is it November already? Are we bound to repeat the same cycles until even after the end of times? 

Your body on autopilot as you walk to your shower, making sure the heat of the water burns to the touch. You need to boil your skin clean. Need to wash away any piece of skin that he once touched. Scrubbing yourself clean of him physically. 

You hear cells take 7 years to regenerate. 

Would it take that long to be a body Joel has never known? 

—

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across a quiet jackson, you found yourself perched on the edge of your steps. Feeling the cool air hit your cheeks as you try to breathe through your heavy chest. Grappling with a tangle of emotions. 

Soft footsteps echoed a few feet from you, your body stilled, and when you lifted your head, there stood Joel, the man who had left a trail of heartache in his wake. 

Joel’s eyes reflected a mixture of remorse and determination as he began to speak. The wind seemed to hold its breath as you waited for him to start, too confused and numb to begin to hold the weight of what this conversation meant. 

“Hi,” Joel clenched his fists, guilt etched on his face.

You scoffed

“Hey.”

Joel shifted uncomfortably, his gaze unable to meet yours. The air felt charged with tension as you faced Joel, your eyes reflecting the storm within.

“I-I don’t know where to start,”

“Try starting with why the hell you’re at my doorstep. And then end it with you getting the fuck off my doorstep.” your teeth clenched, spitting attitude at Joel. 

You began to walk away from him, trying to go back inside. You’re upset. Upset Joel didn’t stay away longer. You needed time to forget this, you needed to tell yourself he wasn’t real. You made him up, and now you’re back to the real world. 

Joel stood there, frustration apparent on his face as he tried to reach out to you, who was briskly walking away. Joel grabbed your elbow, pulling you back to him, looking down at you with his eyebrows furrowed, 

“Please, just hear me out. I'm trying to apologize."

You glanced up at him, eyes cold, but stopped reluctantly. Pulling your arm from him and crossing them. 

"You can't just apologize your way out of this mess."

"I get it, I messed up. But walking away won't solve anything. Can we at least talk about it?"

You sighed, patience wearing thin.

“What is there to say?”, you shook your head in defeat 

Joel ran a hand through his disheveled hair, finally not avoiding your gaze. 

"I don’t know why she was there. I threw her out as soon as you left." his voice was strained, pleading to you. 

A heavy silence settled between you two, until you spoke again, tone cold.

 "I need time to think. Leave."

Joel nodded, sighing heavily, and turned to leave. As he reached the bottom step, an unexpected surge of anger consumed him. The weight of his guilt transformed into the Joel who destroys, and he turned back to face you.

"I'm sorry, alright? But you don't get to play the victim here. You have your faults too," he spat.

“Excuse me?” your nostrils flared, eyes flashed with indignation. "My faults?”

You both were about to put on a show for anyone who dared come near you two. 

“Don’t act like it’s not normal for her to possibly be in my house. Remember what we did to her. Remember what you asked me for.” 

Tears welled in your eyes, not believing what you’re hearing, you raised your hand to Joel, watching his head swing sideways as your palm landed hard across his face. 

“Fuck you.”

It happened fast. He rushed your body back into your house, slamming the door shut behind him before he took his place back in your face. Holding both your wrists against the wall behind you, caging you into his body as his nose was practically against yours, looking deeply in your eyes as you’re both panting. 

“You were the one that started this.” he picks your wrists up and slams them back against the wall, earning a whimper from you, raising his voice a little louder, “You don’t get to act like a brat when your actions have consequences.” 

He lets go of your hands, and you begin to rub them furiously to try and dissipate the pain.

“Listen,” his demeanor is calm again, but you shrivel up against the wall to make yourself as small as possible. Feeling yourself begin to sink to the floor, you remain silent. 

You sat on the floor, eyes downcast and silent. The weight of the argument lingered, suffocating the room. Joel took a deep breath, the gravity of his words settling on him like an anchor. He approached you cautiously.

He said your name, his voice low and remorseful, "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that."

You remained silent, gaze fixed on your hands. Joel sighed, a mix of frustration and guilt gnawing at him.

“I hate that we're both feeling like this," he pleaded.

You nodded slowly, and he lifted you up from the floor, both of you retreating to a quieter corner of the room, away from the remnants of your argument near your front door.

“I’ve been an asshole. Feels like I've said this all before to you,” he breathes out an airy laugh, you don’t budge. 

He noticed your unease, your quiet demeanor signaling a vulnerability he had never intended to expose.

“How ‘bout we take a break from all this.” 

You yearned for him even after it all. You desire things patterned to always destroy you in the end. 

“Yeah, I-, I don’t think I'm ready to talk about us.” you stuttered out, afraid to make eye contact with him. Afraid if you did all your wishes from early to fall at the feet of the thing responsible for the collapse might come true. 

Joel nodded, sucking in a breathe, 

“Okay.” 

—

There was a warm glow casted over the horse stables as you worked diligently, pitchfork in hand, cleaning out the stalls. The familiar sounds of horses neighing and hooves against straw filled the air. Your focus was on Sparkle, a gentle black mare with a shimmering coat that seemed to live up to her name.

As you worked, the rhythmic scraping of the pitchfork against the straw was interrupted by a light voice behind you. "Hey there! How's it going?"

Turning around, you were met with the smiling face of Maria, one of the many important people on Jacksons committee. "Hey, Maria! Just another day in the stables, you know," you replied, wiping a bit of sweat from your brow.

She leaned against the stall door, eyeing Sparkle with admiration. "Sparkle's looking as beautiful as ever. You really have a way with her."

You grinned, patting Sparkle's side gently. "Yeah, she's a sweetheart. Just needs a little extra care, don't you, girl?"

Maria chuckled, then her expression turned curious. "By the way, I haven't seen you at the bar lately. Everything okay?"

You paused, glancing at the pitchfork in your hand. "Oh, you know, just been here. Busy."

Maria tilted her head, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Busy, or avoiding the usual crowd?"

You chuckled, feeling a hint of embarrassment. "Maybe a bit of both. Sometimes, I think I'm too old to still be working there."

She nodded, understanding. "Fair enough. But you can't escape the social scene forever, you know. We miss having you around."

You sighed, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "I'll make an appearance soon, I promise. Just got a lot on my plate right now."

"Well, whenever you're ready, we'll be at the bar, waiting for you," Maria said with a friendly wink.

She leaves, and you’re left alone. The chatter is constantly getting old for you, you want to be left to your own devices. You want people to stop caring about where you are, where you’ve been, and where you’re going. You need to be invisible. You need to make yourself something Joel forgets. 

You were finishing up your early morning stable duties, and a gentle breeze carried the familiar scent of hay and warm animal fur. You found yourself behind the sturdy door of one of the stalls, placing your tools in a bucket filled with lukewarm water. The horses startle when they hear the opening of stable doors before you, and you froze. Turning quickly to see him.

fuck. Shit. 

You duck, hoping he hadn’t caught your eye behind the thin door of the stall. 

As Joel approached, you couldn't resist the urge to observe him unnoticed. His confident stride and the set of his jaw spoke of a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. You crouched down slightly, peering through a small gap in the door, attempting to stay hidden.

Joel, engrossed in the routine of preparing his horse, seemed to sense your presence. His gaze flickered in your direction, and for a moment, you held your breath. However, his expression remained unreadable, and he continued his tasks as if he hadn't noticed.

The rhythmic sounds of grooming and the soft noises of the horses filled the air. You couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nervous energy.

After a few moments, Joel finished tending to his horse and turned to leave the stable. As he passed your hiding spot, his eyes met yours for the briefest moment. There was a subtle acknowledgment in his gaze, one of hurt and one of anger.

Joel walked away without a word, and you emerged from your hiding spot, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anguish. If this is how you would now have to live your days in Jackson, you don’t know how much longer you would survive.

—

It’s been 21 days. 

The warm aroma of roasted turkey filled the air, and the laughter of friends and miller family fun echoed through the spacious dining room. However, for you, the atmosphere was anything but festive. Being at the miller’s thanksgiving was anything but relaxing. 

It’s been 21 days since you’ve had to endure Joel Miller. 

You’ve done your best to avoid him, not seeing him at all, wondering if he knew better than to show up. Knowing you had Tommy to protect you, knowing everyone heard what he did to Vanessa, the whole town talked. And Tommy invited everyone to his thanksgiving. Joel would be brave to show his face, but you’ve always known him as anything but someone who’s scared to cause a little bit of trouble. 

It’s been 21 days since you’ve been avoiding Joel Miller. 

You stopped working at the bar, not for him, but because you knew he’d try and find you there. Knew it wasn’t something you wanted to do long term, and this just gave you an excuse to try something else. Now, you clean the stables bright and early, lucky to also avoid Joel when he picks up his horse every now and again for patrols. Your walks home are filled with a deep set regret for everything. Should you have heard him out? No. You knew better. You knew what kind of man he was, and would continue to be. You fight with yourself on it everyday, and your heart stops as you hear it, 

It’s been 21 days since you heard his laugh. You won’t get to call it 22 days, and when you realize it’s him, you don’t look back. Pacing past the living room and to Tommy’s small bathroom. Your eyes bloodshot from too much shitty pinot noir. 

—

​​The sound of the Thanksgiving celebration echoed through the Miller residence, but in the quiet refuge of the bathroom.

You were just splashing some water on your face, attempting to compose yourself amidst the chaos, when the door creaked open, revealing Joel Miller, his eyes narrowing as they met yours in the mirror.

"Didn't expect to find you here," Joel muttered, crossing his arms.

You turned off the faucet, swallowing hard before meeting his gaze. "I needed a moment," you replied, your voice steady but laced with unease.

"A moment, huh?" Joel scoffed, his tone cutting through the air.

"Funny how you seem to need a moment every time we're in the same room lately."

You averted your eyes, the memories of your last conversation with Joel resurfacing. The heated words, the accusations, and the unresolved tension had left a bitter taste that lingered.

"What are you even doing here, anyway?" Joel continued, his frustration palpable.

"Tommy invited me," you said, attempting to keep your voice level. "I'm not here to ruin your family dinner, Joel."

He took a step closer, his gaze intense. "Ruining it? You already did that weeks ago."

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. "Joel, can we not do this right now? It's Thanksgiving, for God's sake."

"Thanksgiving?" he scoffed again. "A lot to be thankful for, right? Like the way you disappeared without a word."

You clenched your fists, the guilt and frustration mounting. "It wasn't like that, Joel. You know it's complicated."

"Complicated? You think I don't get it?" he snapped, his voice rising. "But that doesn't excuse shutting me out completely."

Silence hung between you like a heavy fog, the distance growing even in the confined space of the bathroom. The distant laughter and chatter from the dinner table seemed a world away.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the only sound the distant laughter and music from inside. Joel broke the quiet, his voice softer than before.

"I didn't want things to end like this, you know?" he admitted, running a hand through his hair.

"Me neither," you replied, avoiding eye contact.

Joel's jaw clenched, and he looked away, frustration etched across his face. The distance between you felt insurmountable,

He stepped closer, his hand finding yours. "I've been a jerk, haven't I?" he took his olive branch moment, hoping you would extend a white flag as well.

And in that moment, his dark eyes caught yours, and your heart dropped. You wanted your Joel back, you wanted to collapse and give up whatever game you were playing. You needed him, you wanted him. 

It’s been 21 days too long without Joel Miller, 

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Maybe a little."

Joel chuckled, a hint of relief in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let things get this far."

"And I should have communicated better," you admitted, squeezing his hand.

He nodded, a sincerity in his gaze. "Can we start over? Forget the fights and just... be us again?"

You smiled, feeling the weight lifting. "I'd like that."

"So, what now?" Joel asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

You smirked. "Well, I was thinking we could be lovey-dovey in the bathroom."

He laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet room. "Lovey-dovey, huh?"

"Yeah," you teased, "like in the good old days."

Joel tilted his head, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “I wouldn’t call what we do in bathrooms lovey-dovey, darlin’.” his hand wraps in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck, gently suckling a bruise there,

“But I’ll warn you,” his warm and wet breath spread throughout your neck as he smiles against your skin, 

“I think I need to make this filthy mouth of yours beg, and never talk back to me again.” 

You hummed in approval, moaning silently, “Impossible.” you teased, 

Joel let go of your hair, hands now sliding down your body and giving your hips a bruising grip to remember, 

“Always so mouthy, baby girl. Can’t be now with the town downstairs cutting the stuffing,” he bites his bottom lip, quickly swatting at your ass, a loud smack echoing off the walls as you squeal in surprise, 

You shot him a quick glance, your usual sarcastic retort momentarily absent. Instead, you shrugged, feigning innocence.

"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" Joel chuckled,

You shot him a mock glare, finally finding your voice. "Very funny, Joel. I can be quiet if I want to."

He raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his eyes. "Sure, but that requires a well-behaved version of yourself."

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the back of Joel’s head, your hands locked in his hair–

 "I can be well-behaved when I want to be."

Joel smirked, pushing your bodies closer. "And do you want to be right now?"

You giggle slightly, nodding your head “no” slowly, 

—

You both have to be really, really quiet. Moving from the bathroom into a room that looks alot like..shit. This is Tommy’s bedroom. 

“Really..” you squint, not having much time to speak as Joel is already pushing you back onto the queen sized bed behind you,

“Fucking me in your brothers bed?” you smile into the kisses Joel has been smothering you with, sucking your bottom lip as he pulls away from you, lifting his shirt up and off of his toned body. 

“Someones gotta get some in here.” he jokes, smirking down at you as he takes his belt off quickly, 

Joel goes back to devouring you, pulling your brown dress up to lay at your waist, exposing your clothed cunt to him. His eyes go darker as he pulls your legs apart so easily, sucking in air as he tilts his head to look at you. His permanent scowl plastered on his face as he focused in on your pussy. 

“Baby,” he puts one of your legs down as he uses his thumb to rub against where your clit is beneath your underwear. His palm against your mound as he does so. 

You moan out, squirming in his grasp, “Joel, I missed you,” you whine, 

Joel leaned over, his bulge met your core as he began kissing you against. Both your moans being captured by each other's mouths. Dry humping each other in the process, 

Confidence suddenly burst inside of you, holding his shoulders as you pushed your hips up as hard as you could, moving them in circular motion, hearing a small groan escape from Joel’s lips, 

“Fuck” he groans in your ear, 

“Gonna take this fuckin’ i give you?” he questioned rhetorically, because you didn’t get a say on whether you were taking it or not.

Pushing himself off of you, he now towered over you. Leaving you on your back with your legs spread open, 

“Take these off, now” Joel pulled at the top of your panties, snapping them against your skin harshly. 

You obeyed quickly, while watching him release himself, a long thick cock hanging out of his pants, warranting a gasp from you, feeling your own juices flow from you, staining the bedding beneath you,

Your reaction seemed to satisfy Joel, who was watching you as if you were prey, 

“I want you. I want you right now.” his voice deep, dripping with lust as he walked back to you, grabbing your legs and dragging you to the edge of the bed, hearing you squeak as he did so.

He flipped you over, and your ass was up in the air, your entrance glistening for him, he couldn’t help himself, and that’s when you jumped forward screaming loudly as you felt a stinging sensation on your cunt. Joel’s hand vibrating off of the skin there, 

“Not so quiet after all, honey?” he mocked you, rubbing anything that leaked from you back on your clit, you moaned lowly, soon turning it into a loud moan as you felt the thick head of his cock rub against you, teasing your entrance, dipping the tip in, causing you to grip the navy blue sheets beneath you, moving up with each tease. 

“Don’t run from me.” he stated gruffly, and  you turned to look at him, his wavy locks falling beside his face, his eyes caught yours, winking as he pushed inside of you, stretching you far enough to feel as if your insides were burning. “F-fuckOH” he was enjoying the way your cunt spazzed around him, feeling his cock enlarge even more at the way you pulsed for him, 

Joel began thrusting harder, pushing your body forward with every hard snap of his hips, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Your body was on fire, feeling your heart sink as he bottomed out inside of you. With every thrust he tore into you further. Your body invites him in more as you feel yourself drown him with your cum, his cock becoming adjusted to you, taking advantage of every shake and squeeze.

“Joel–, fuck, faster,--” you felt your feet levitate off he ground, him holding your hold bottom half up as he obeyed your request, laughing at your whimpers. Your feet now dangling as he manhandles your body, fucking down into you as he grunts, his balls hitting against your clit and causing you to spasm even harder around him. 

“Take it, baby.” his hips snapped harder into you, the room filled with panting and the loud clapping of your skin against his, moaning into the bed as you felt your release coming closer as he reached around you to rub your clit, moaning with you as you began letting go for him, feeling something inside of you begin to snap, you tried grabbing behind you, but he pulled your hand against your back, pushing your body further into the cushion as your pussy convulsed, and you came on him, shaking as he walked you through you orgasm, 

“Cum around me just like that.”

“Darlin’ you feel so good, you’re doing so well.”

“Your cunts meant to take it like this.”

Joel’s low voice barely noticed as your ears rang from how hard you had cum. Joel following after shortly, 

 “Shit. Shit.” 

“S–Shit, so, fucking good.” Screaming your name as he produced enough cum to cover your cunt and your ass entirely. 

You were panting heavy as he fell on top of you, completely fucked out as his limp dick sat against your back. Joel is still in bliss, moving your hair away from the back of your neck and kissing along it, slightly humming into your glistening skin. 

His lips only leave your skin to whisper to you in his daze, 

“ s’ gonna be pissed if he finds out what happened here.” 

You both laugh at the uncomfortable reality of this. You both will eventually have to get up and face the crowd. But for just a few more moments, you let yourself feel the comfort of being smothered under Joel’s body. 

—

It’s been 21 minutes. 

The door creaked open, and you and Joel stepped out of the bedroom, both wearing wide grins that couldn't be contained. The sound of Thanksgiving chatter from downstairs seemed muffled in comparison to the joy that radiated between you two.

As you descended the stairs, hand in hand, Tommy looked up from the crowded living room. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of your shared happiness.

"What's got you two looking so... giddy?" Tommy asked, a curious smile playing on his lips.

Joel chuckled, exchanging a knowing glance with you. "Oh, you know, just enjoying some quiet time away from Bill's stories."

Tommy raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's all?"

You couldn't help but giggle, feeling the need to share your newfound joy. "Well, we might've had a little heart-to-heart. It's Thanksgiving, after all."

Tommy's eyes widened, a sly grin forming. "A heart-to-heart, huh?”

Joel laughed, playfully nudging you. 

Tommy continued to scrutinize you both, but his teasing demeanor softened. "Well, as long as you're happy." you both smiled at him,

“And as long as it wasn’t in my room.”

You exchanged a glance with Joel, your smiles widening.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Quick Drabble

Eddie hated sports, with all of guts. He enjoyed interviewing people but when it came to sports he knew nothing. The people he typically asked questions to were all the movie stars and huge rockstars, it wasn’t all that hard to come up with question for people who he was actually interested in! He had gotten the call the night before from Robin Buckley, a friend of his who was also a journalist but did everything he hated. Which was sports. Of course his first question was why Nancy Wheeler wasn’t the first option for this. (Apparently she was out with the same thing Robin got, how convenient)

So that’s how Eddie found himself standing on a baseball field with a awkward smile. Shoulders tense as he gives the camera a plead for help. He had no idea what he was doing, and thankfully someone knew that and prepared questions for him to ask. He was wearing his Black Sabbath baseball jersey, the only sports related thing he owned. His hair was pulled up in a bun as he waits patiently for whoever the fuck he was interviewing to come over. Everything about this was boring, and he was more than willing to get hit in the head with a baseball to stop this interview from happening. Robin Buckley owed him he left kidney.

He straightens himself up when he sees one of the guys running off the field. He was buff yet somehow lean in a nice dad bod kind of way, he ran smoothly across the fired laughing with guys on the field. Eddie did not know who this was, but he wasn’t that dumb to not guess that this guy was probably a huge deal right now. His number was twenty eight, and he was right in front of the camera within seconds. He doesn’t even look like he broke a sweat getting to them. His smile is bright as he shakes hands with the camera guy, and then Eddie’s. Who’s mind goes blank for a second trying to process what was happening. His hand was twice the size of Eddie’s, palm rough from playing to much baseball and the shirt he was wearing was not hiding how big his chest was.

“Hi I’m Steve.” He introduces with a sweet smile. And oh god he looked like a golden retriever. “You must be Eddie right? Robin called and told me I would be talking to you today.” He hums gently. Eyes never leaving Eddie’s. (Fuck he was also super respectful) The guy was extremely charismatic and Eddie’s brain was not handling it well. Snapping into action he stutters over his words for a second.

“Yeah I’m Eddie, I know absolutely nothing about sports so don’t expect this to be the best interview you’ve ever gotten.” He laughs gently smiling a bit at the other who’s attitude doesn’t change. He just nods his head in understanding.

“Yeah don’t worry, Robin acts like she knows what she’s talking about all the time as well. You’ll be fine.” He says with a knowing grin. Playfully patting Eddie on the shoulder as he leans around him to take a water from one of the numerous people surrounding them. Once again Eddie’s brain stutters. He turns around himself taking the mic that he would be holding up for Steve talk into.

It doesn’t take long for everyone to get situated, the camera on and recording as Eddie asks the most basic questions ever (steve some how turns them interesting) they are almost finished and Eddie has to say that this wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought. Up until the point Steve moves faster then Eddie can catch on. Hand in the air with a baseball now, something that wasn’t there before. It was only a few inches away from hitting Eddie in the head. “Guys! Keep it on the fire!” Steve is yelling, as he quickly pitches it back to one of his teammates. Eddies a little shocked, that was kind of the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life. He’s pretty sure if he could get wet, he would be right now. His mouth is open a bit as Steve turns back to him.

“Sorry about that, sometimes they don’t know how to keep the ball on the field.” He chuckles, sounding extremely embarrassed. As if he didn’t just save Eddie’s life.

“Dude you were like- one of the Cullens from twilight fast how the fuck?” Of course they had to bleep the word out as Steve smiles with a blush. Arms crossed over his chest bashfully. Everyone around them snorting a bit at Eddie’s comparison. “What! That’s literally the only time baseball has been on my tv!” He says laughing gently as he turns back to Steve who was close to a laughing fit.

“We should probably get off the field before any of them hear you comparing me to twilight.” Steve laughs as he moves gesturing for the interview to move somewhere more safe.

And if Eddie walks away with a phone number, and with a dozens of messages from Robin and Nancy about how they just seen the interview. Well that was for him to know.

[not-sure-what-im-feeling]

Godsides Ref Sheet

I've been working on my own version of the godsides idea (sanders sides as gods), and this is what I've got. (kudos to @thegoldenduckie for helping! I couldn't do this without you!)

This is going to be a long post, so here:

First up we've got the characters themselves! (this does include Remy and Emile, I know that they aren't sides, but I love them)

<<•>>

Logan

God of: intelligence, wisdom, strategy, memory, time, and space

Style: like an ethereal, noble, starcore, gay ass bitch

Age (as of Thomas): as old as the universe itself

Interests: poetry, science, mathematics, astronomy, Patton

Animal counterpart (+features): Raven, he has the wings of a raven

<<•>>

Patton

God of: emotion, empathy, health, animals, life, justice (morality)

Style: dad x kid core gay x that one nice librarian you met when you were five and have never seen since that one fateful afternoon but the memory of them has stuck with you forever x flowery cottagecore dresses

Age (as of Thomas): as old as there has been life on earth

Interests: baking, cooking, sewing, knitting, hanging out with the other gods (and Thomas!), gardening

Animal counterpart (+and features): dog, specifically a golden retriever, and he has the tail and ears of one (you fucking furry)

<<•>>

Virgil

God of: fear, instinct, paranoia, anxiety, monsters, weather (especially storms)

Style: a 2005 emo, but make it fancy

Age (as of Thomas): as long as humans have been around, is our best guess

Interests: watching horror movies, baking with Patton (don’t judge, okay?), keeping up with his anonymous tumblr blog (shh, the mortals don’t know it’s him), embroidery, cosplay, shitposting

Animal counterpart (+features): spider, multiple eyes/limbs?

<<•>>

Roman

God of: creativity, love, passion, the arts, honor, pride

Style: pretentious fuck at a ren faire

Age (as of Thomas): since art could be found (wow, so fancy you flamboyant little shit)

Interests: acting, poetry, writing, cosplaying with Virgil, dnd, fashion design/putting together outfits, pottery, photography, fencing

Animal counterpart (+features): lion, has a tail, ears, mane like hair?

<<•>>

Janus

God of: deception/deceit, puzzles, riddles, tricks, theatre, outcasts

Style: Victorian-era conman outlaw (now with added capes!)

Age (as of Thomas): since the first lie fell from a human’s mouth

Interests: fucking with the other gods, chess, gardening, witchcraft, winetasting, turning into a snake at zoos to freak out mortals (remus is with him obvi)

Animal counterpart (+features): snake, has his lil scalies, snek tongue, and eye.

<<•>>

Remus

God of: creativity, sex, the abandoned, chaos, mischeif

Style: fancy, alternative, androgynous, grunge

Age (as of Thomas): same as Roman (they’re twins, what’d you expect)

Interests: fucking with other the gods and mortals (but different), pole dancing, cooking/baking, solving cold cases from decades ago because he can, acting, drawing, painting

Animal counterpart (+features): octopus… (please help, what features should he have?)

<<•>>

Remy

God of: sleep, night, dreams (kinda)

Style: he looks like the vines and only that. No joke this god came into existence thirty minutes late with a Starbucks in hand

Age (as of Thomas); the first time someone slept ig???

Interests: going for walks/drives, stargazing, listening to podcasts, chatting, drinking coffee, talking with Emile

Animal counterpart (+features): raccoon, he’s got the bags under the eyes, but he chooses not to have any other features, and those are just cause he’s an insomniac

<<•>>

Emile

God of: the mind, illustrative arts, language

Style: similar to Patton’s, but a bit more masculine(?)

Age (as of Thomas): since humans evolved their mind enough to speak words everyone knew

Interests: watching cartoons, animation, pet care, crocheting, 

Animal counterpart (+features): ram, he has horns!

<<•>>

Thomas himself is a mortal in this, but the gods have chosen someone to speak through every lifetime, and they chose Thomas. He's honestly pretty much the same as he is in the videos, though.

Ships include: Logicality (kinda going to be the focus), probably prinxiety and dukeceit, but there might be a bit of princeit. Logan acts as the "main character" seeing as he'll be around the longest, but all of them will be a focus.

That's most of what I've got for now, but I'll keep you updated as things progress.

[writtenjewels]

Odd Temple part 3

Part One, Part Two

The next level below took Salim and his two strange companions to a wide cavern filled with stalagmites and stalactites. It sort of felt like they were walking through a giant creature's mouth, surrounded by their sharp teeth. Because of this, Salim chose to walk more slowly and was careful not to brush up against the stalagmites.

“Everyone, stay frosty,” Jason warned. “This cavern ain't too far from Balathu's territory.”

“Wait, really?” Nick gulped. “So he could attack us at any moment?”

“Get your shit together!” Jason snapped. Salim noticed something lurking in the shadows and raised his weapon. A creature leapt out but before Salim could strike, Jason got in front and held up his shield. The creature slammed into it and crumbled to the ground.

“Ow!” The voice that came out was more human than Salim expected. “That really hurt!”

“What the fuck do you expect, poppin' out like that?” Jason huffed. The creature flinched away from his heated tone. Salim stepped around Jason to get a better look. The thing was human-shaped but covered in blonde fur. The face was similar to a golden retriever but with human qualities as well.

“What are you?” Salim gaped.

“A werewolf,” the creature answered, baring its teeth. Jason took a step forward and the werewolf flinched back again. “Don't hurt me, please.”

“Fuck, an' here I thought werewolves were supposed to be fierce,” Jason snorted. “You ain't got no spine.”

“It's true, I'm not very brave,” the werewolf agreed.

“Maybe the Queen can do something for you,” Nick suggested, speaking up for the first time. “We're all going to see her and ask for her help.”

“Not me,” Jason argued. “I'm just here to keep the rest of you safe.” Salim glanced at the stone man thoughtfully. It was true: Jason had only joined to act as protector, and had immediately stepped in to guard Salim from the werewolf. Salim felt like he should thank the guard, but it seemed strange to do it now.

“If you really think this Queen can help me, I'll come along,” the werewolf agreed. “You can call me Eric.” The other three went around introducing themselves. Once they were all acquainted, Salim once again took the lead. Jason was close on his heels with Nick just behind, and Eric trailing last.

They walked for a few more minutes before they were interrupted by shrieking. All four halted in their tracks. The shrieking echoed around so it was difficult to tell where it came from. Were the stalactites moving? No, when Salim looked closer he saw that some of them were actually large bat-like creatures hanging from the cavern ceiling. They unfurled their wings and started swooping around the group. Jason took up his stance to fight back while the other two cowered.

The bat creatures began to divebomb the group. Jason beat them back with his shield but they kept coming. Salim took up his makeshift weapon to join the fight. Between the two of them, he and Jason held off the bats. But they couldn't keep up the pace forever. One bat found an opening and sank its talons into Salim's shoulders, lifting him off the ground. He cried out and flailed, smacking the bat with his weapon hoping it would drop him. It was no good: another bat was quick to grab Salim instead.

“Salim!” Jason cried out from below. “Fuck!”

“Jason!” Salim called back. The stone man was running to keep up but the bats were faster and soon Salim could no longer see Jason or his other companions.

He was alone, being flown off to some unknown part this strange underworld.

[jollyfang]

Realized just the other day that I’ve yet to share any photos of one of my favorite characters I’ve ever created. My precious, golden retriever tiefling warlock. He’s too cute not to show off.

So enjoy some pictures of my tav turned D&D oc, Alistair, and his husband Gale. 😊

This doofus is probably the tav I talk about the most with my sister cuz he’s just too adorable.

More about him under the cut if you’re curious.

He looks like a cat, but acts like a puppy

The tattoos on his face are markings from his pact, made from his own blood. He’s never thought much about it before but he thinks it’s more cool than gross/disturbing.

Has no memory from his life before he was thirteen (when his pact with a Old One was formed) He suspects that something happened that cost him his memories, perhaps the pact itself but he’s not sure if remembering would be a good idea. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. Ignorance is bliss after all…

The only memory he has from his childhood is brief flashes of a young girl who looked vaguely similar to him. Blue skin, black hair, golden eyes, and a large scar on her left cheek. He believes she might have been his sister but he doesn’t know for sure.

Lived on the streets his entire life, and thus it takes very little to please him.

Has no last name cuz, “Family names come from family, and I don’t have one.” This doesn’t make him sad, it’s just a fact. No family. No family name. Simple as that.

Loves. Food. So. FUCKING. Much…

He has been known to wag his tail when happy (mostly when talking to Gale)

Feels like he doesn’t deserve Gale, and couldn’t believe Gale would ever want to marry him.

Wakes up every morning after moving to Waterdeep with Gale thinking he’s dreaming cuz there’s no way he’s lucky enough for all of this to be real. To have survived the tadpole, saved Baldur’s Gate, met the love of his life and he never has to worry about having a roof over his head again.

Seriously he’s so adorably gay and in love…

Needless to say he’s a content little trophy husband and he adores living with Gale and being able to tell everyone how incredible and handsome his husband is. Also my sister and I head-cannon that at some point Gale gifts Alistair a tressym cuz he loves Tara so much….

I never expected when I made him (he was the second Tav I ever made) that he’d evolve so much as a character that I’d repurpose him to use for a tabletop game because I loved him so much. If only I had a game to use him on but regardless- once I do, I look forward to seeing what shenanigans my simple minded warlock sweetheart will get up to.

[searenbound]

Commission for @xanxuswife

For commission info and why I’m currently taking them please look at this post

This is my first comm ever! They asked for dog hybrids Kiri and Baku just being their companions.

Warnings: hybrid au, swearing, platonic relationship, brief mention of injury, brief mention of past abuse

Pairing: platonic! Katsuki Bakugou x reader x Eijirou Kirishima

Total word count 1054

-This is definitely a failed foster situation

-You found them in an alley where Bakugou was hurt and Kirishima wouldn’t leave his side

-Apparently he got into a fight with another hybrid over some food he was planning to share with Kirishima

-He technically won, but when he turned away thinking they learned they’re lessons they bit him and ran when Kiri showed up

-And that’s how you end up fostering two large breed dog hybrids

-Bakugou being a purebred Doberman

-With the sleek but muscular build and cleanly cropped and pointed ears to prove it

-Kirishima a little harder to guess because he’s a mix, but he definitely has Rottweiler in him and maybe some Golden Retriever too

-All floppy eared and full of energy

-It was supposed to be a temporary placement while Bakugou healed

-Only they’re again pretty large and a bonded pair and most homes wanted one or the other not both

-And the one’s willing to take them would be outright rejected by the two

-They wanted to stay with you and only you

-You were nice

-You took them in and treated them kindly

-Never yelled or gave cruel punishments like taking away food

-You were different from the home they ran from before you found them

-They trusted you more than anything or anyone else

-Except each other of course

-They’d probably always trust each other just a little bit more

-Only because they needed to rely on each other so much before

-All that combined, they wormed their way into your heart and have not left your home other then for walkies, vet appointments, and fun trips since and you couldn’t be happier

-You never have a dull moment with them around

-Bakugou has taken to your routine and seems to think it’s his job to make you stick to it

-Or rather he has a routine and he think you need to stick to it

-Will growl at you for being up too late and bark obscenities at you if you ask him why he’s up then

-“I wouldn’t be if your dumbass didn’t stay up so goddamn late!”

-He yells before telling you to fuck off to bed

-Then makes Kiri get up and go to bed too because fuck off if you think you’re getting away with extra cuddles

-He’s extra crabby when tired

-Kirishima is just happy to be there and tries his best to help you

-Sometimes he gets overexcited though and catches a big case of the zoomies

-He doesn’t mean to, but everything’s getting knocked over

-You, Bakugou who swears at him for it, your furniture

-All knocked over

-He cleans up his messes though!

-He’s a very good boy!

-You’ll never be approached by weird strangers with them

-If their sizes don’t scare them away, Kirishima’s need to make sure you’re safe probably will

-He’ll put himself between the stranger and you because they’re giving him bad vibes and he’s not stupid

-He knows when his instincts are telling him something’s off he needs to be on guard

-And if THAT doesn’t work Bakugou’s attitude probably will

-Growling and snapping as a warning

-Just waiting for you to tell him he’s allowed to give chase

-He almost never gets to, but when you do let him he’s more than happy to be allowed to act batshit insane before proudly jogging back to you

-You can expect both of them to be waiting at the door for you when you get home

-Kiri loves greeting you with a bear hug

-Says you’re nice and soft, perfect for hugging like a stuffed animal

-He says it in the most earnest sweetest way too, obviously trying to complement you but a little clumsy about it

-Bakugou is to embarrassed to hug you like Kiri does, but he doesn’t want to look like he isn’t happy to see you or ungrateful towards you

-So he learned how to cook for you

-In their old home they weren’t allowed but he’s always been interested in learning

-And once he does and he sees how happy it makes his favorite people when they eat his cooking he falls in love with it

-Now all he wants to do is cook

-Will huff and grumble if you want get takeout instead

-Is his food not good enough?!

-This isa travesty, a betrayal so foul

-Shut up

-He’s not dramatic you are!

-Kiri will tease him about it

-“Aww, come on bro! It’s not a big deal, you don’t gotta pout about it!” “Shut the fuck up! I’m not pouting about—” “I don’t know… ya seem really pouty to me, you’re even getting red!”

-That quickly turns into a shoving match and then play wrestling

-You now have to break them up before it becomes wwe in your living room

-That and your food is in jeopardy of being ruined in the chaos

-I think in this situation Kiri would have his natural hair color up until he sees that you dye yours

-He thinks you look so cool with your bright red hair and is just a little bit jealous of it

-pouts and hits you with the puppy eyes every time you do touch ups and maintenance

-He wants cool hair too!

-Why can’t he dye his hair?

-Bakugou got so fed up with him he pretty much demanded you get his hair dyed too

-Because quote “he’s pissing me the hell off! Just do it so he’ll shut up!” end quote

-Totally has nothing to do with with him just wanting his best friend to be happy

-But now Kirishima won’t shut up about how you match now and Bakugou can’t say anything about it because he encouraged this

-He did this to himself

-He’ll probably still call him annoying honestly

-Bakugou will be Bakugou after all

-The next time you go shopping with them is when Kiri discovers hair gel and begs you to buy it

-You end up buying Bakugou that hot sauce he wanted too because it’s not fair Kirishima got something special and he didn’t

-All in all your life with them is filled with so much joy

-They absolutely love and adore you and are so thankful it was you who found them and gave them home

[playersluv]

could I please get some general sfw and nsfw headcanons for the main three bnha boys? <3

relationship/nsfw hcs.

characters. aged up!izuku midoriya, aged up!katsuki bakugou, aged up!shoto todoroki + f!reader

warnings. begging + praise + degradation + breeding mention + fingering + oral mention

i wrote this completely high so my mind said “yes. this is real. absolutely canon.” so enjoy <3

IZUKU MIDORIYA

very protective!! he’s polite- always will be- but he’s much more assertive than usual. when he’s jealous, he won’t laugh it off or back down from a fight- ONLY if it comes to you. he will always stick up for you, as well!

loves leaving tiny kisses all around you! cheek kisses and forehead kisses are his favorites! he thinks they’re so innocent and the purest kind of love!

cuddles a panda plushie you got him one year while you’re away. he thinks it’s better than sleeping alone because when you got him the panda you said “there’s a piece of my heart with it! don’t forget that, izu!” and he just wants you next to him again.

you’re his first. he’s no stranger to the teenage hormones he has to control, pumping his cock with his fist, trying to desperately to get off, so he has endurance. but nothing could have compared to how good you felt when he first entered you, how warm and tight and soft you felt immediately overwhelmed him, causing him to cum prematurely. he’s super embarrassed and you tell him that it’s okay, that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. he quickly calms down and just does his best while fucking you (and best he did, he made you cum three times in under an hour).

ya know how i said he’s more assertive with things that involve you? yeah, i meant you in general. izuku /when not in sub mode/ is a brat tamer at heart. he puts a few rules in place and he expects you to follow them to the t. isn’t afraid to punish you. but when he’s subbing he makes the prettiest whines. a begging mess, so desperate for you to make him come.

loves being praised! tell him how good he’s doing, how much you love him, how hot he looks doing you till you’re fucked out. i feel like izuku needs the ego boost sometimes, the slight reassurance, ya know? either way, he’ll crumble easily if you even TALK to him during sex- he finds your voice so pleasuring to his ears, makes him wanna hear it moan his name.

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

he’s secretly a sucker for mushy petnames! he’s calling you “my love, sweetheart, pumpkin” but never in front of other people! he feels like they could see how vulnerable he is around you (everyone can already tell), so he tries to act tough by sticking to “babe, angel, and baby” like a 90s bad boy.

favorite cuddling position is him laying down, you halfway draped over him, legs tangled- as your chests press together/you head rests in the junction of his shoulder and neck. he sleeps sporadically so the semi starfish position works well for him.

he definitely has/will buy you a puppy. not like the mini pomeranian he always gets compared to, but a german shepard or golden retriever. he wants the dogs to grow big and strong to protect you when he can’t. definitely cuddles them and takes them everywhere, anytime that he can. he deemed them your babies.

his favorite position is- i think this is obvious- but doggy style. loves seeing your ass jiggle as he thrusts up into you, the squelching of your cunt as he fucks his seed into you and breeds you like the dumb bitch he owns.

yea, he also degrades the fuck outta you. he can’t help it! needs to let his little toy that he’s always above him. he loves pinning you to the wall, a hand wrapped around your throat and another holding your wrists above your head so you cant squirm away. he also can get off on the fear you get in your eyes. so maybe katsuki is a bit of a sadist, but who isn’t at this point?

but his softer side? the side that experiences soft morning sex, cuddly cockwarming, sensual kisses? that’s one of his most vulnerable. he lets his guard down, he truly does, and he’ll praise the hell out of you. he can’t help it- you look so beautiful as the orange glows of the sunlight beams cast over your skin, basking you in an ethereal glow. needs to show you how beautiful he thinks you are. slow thrusts and low groans of “my pretty angel, so perfect for me, so good, my love” as he hits the deepest parts of you slowly and lovingly

SHOTO TODOROKI

very reluctant to hold your hand, scared his quirk might act up and hurt you somehow. you eventually work past that fear of his and now every opportunity he has, he’s grasping for your hand, clinging to you. in another light, this small gesture shows you how much he trusts you.

loves your thighs! he thinks they’re the best thing to exist, besides your whole being of course. but he loves how plush they are and how soft they are and how much of a good pillow they are! plus, they make thigh highs look amazing!

silently gives you his hoodie/jacket at random times in the day. he knows how much you’ve always adore them, he sees the way you eye his closet when you’re over, and so he just makes it a habit to bring them to you, loves seeing you face light up.

despite his caution to use his hands on you, he LOVES fingering you till you cry out his name. his fingers are slender with a slight thickness to them, well kept and clean. perfect to stuff all in your cute cunt that’s already drooling for him, practically weeping to be touched!

when the sex seshes aren’t fast, they’re more sensual (though the fast ones are still filled with compassion). shoto gives you slow, deep thrusts, and tells you how much he wants to fill you up, to decorate your cute cunt with spurts of his warm cum. he’s close to your ear, nose nudging against your hair as he groans out softly, “mine.. wanna make you cum for me like my pretty baby deserves.”

loves oral, too! he likes receiving and giving, he can get off on both to be honest. and he has! obviously with your skilled mouth, you can have his soul sucked out of him in a matter of minutes. but when you’re on the receiving end? he’s being pleased just as much as you are. all he needs to hear is you broken whines, the slurps of your cunt. needs to taste you, grip your hips. needs to ground himself as he grinds up into the comforter/mattress, eyes rolling back as you tug on his hair.

Ⓒ all work posted belongs to /playersluv/. do not repost or modify.

[comfortwriting]

A Triwizard Baby Part 1 - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist,Taglist

Part 1 Fred Weasley x Fem Reader mini series

Requested/About: Best friends, Y/N and Fred Weasley share a night of passion together during the Triwizard Tournament, after that, everything changes and Fred can’t figure out why until the night of the final task. Y/N has the world on her shoulders, and Fred slowly finds himself losing everyone around him. 

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

A/N: the ages/school year has been adjusted so everything is legal.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, intoxication, drunk and unprotected sex, losing virginity.

It all started when the more outspoken, confident twin crashed into you on the Hogwarts Express in your first year at Hogwarts. Sure, you were upset, embarrassed, and annoyed, but when you looked up and realised who had swept you off your feet, you knew it wasn’t your brain messing with you - from that moment you had fallen for him; Fred Weasley.

After your first train ride, classes, and many more along the way, over the years, you and Fred became best friends, going through thick and thin together, sharing the worlds loudest laughs, best pranks, and even the biggest tears. Your tiny crush on him blossomed into something much more, a love that couldn’t stop growing and spread out of control, but you were sure that Fred didn’t feel the same, and as you became older, reaching the end of your years in the education system, Fred discovered other girls and sex, whilst you drowned yourself in the life of parties and bottles of fire whiskey.

Fred loves the parties, he loves fire whiskey too, but he loves the other girls and the sex in a different way because they feed his ego, and it helped take his mind off you and the fact he didn’t have the guts to pursue you.

You were labelled as the party-girl which every girl wanted to be and wouldn’t challenge to a drinking game if their gold was on the table, and Fred gained the title as the play-boy, who made every lad jealous and watch in envy as he never got rejected and could flirt with any girl he wanted.

You had to hear the stories of your best friend fucking your classmates, and how much they loved it, praising him and gossiping about how skilled he was with his fingers, tongue, and cock. You were jealous, and you didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn't invent your sex life to reach Fred’s rank - you had never had sex - you were a virgin through and through.

Sitting next to Fred on the edge of his bed in the hospital wing you shook your head, laughing at the state of him and his twin, George.

“I’ve got to say, you’ve got a magnificent beard.” You laughed, the sight of George being an old man funnier than you expected.

Fred smirked despite still being pissed off with George “I never knew you were into older men” he winked.

“Well, you never asked.”

George groaned out “get a bloody room, the pair of you!”

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled Fred’s pillow from under his head, causing him to slump down, you bashed George with his pillow, sticking your tongue out at him and pulling a face.

“Y/N, don’t encourage them!” Madame Pomfrey hurried over, retrieving Fred’s pillow “Out! Out!” she shooed you.

Standing up and put your hands up in defence “Alright! I’m going!”

Fred’s smirk turned into a grin, “Watch the first task with us?” he asked.

You nodded “with pleasure, I heard Bill is going to be there.”

And you weren’t wrong, the first task came within the blink of an eye, you were honoured to meet Bill in passing - more like a “Hello!” with an awkward wave, followed by “Goodbye!” and another awkward wave, but the dragons fascinated you, and Fred spent the majority of the task watching you instead of the Hungarian Horntail, Swedish Short-Snout, Chinese Fireball, and the Common Welsh Green. George had to keep reminding Fred that their money and future business was on the line.

During the celebration party as it got later in the evening, you and everyone else surrounded Harry, clapping and cheering as he lifted the golden egg infant of him, parading it around, all of you watching and waiting eagerly, encouraging him to open it in hopes that it could liven up the party - giving everyone an excuse to stay up late and continue drinking.

Fred and George lifted Harry up, propping his legs on either of their shoulders, their arms strapping him in so he was above the large and busy crowd.

“Knew you wouldn’t die, Harry.”

“Lose a leg.”

“Or an arm.”

“Pack it in altogether.”

“Never!”

Fred and George stopped heaving Harry into the air, Seamus begging for a clue, you stared at Fred, your eyes getting lost in the strands of his long golden hair, but you weren’t the only one - the girls behind you were fixating on him, whispering about his good looks and height.

You zoned out completely, the same jealousy and bitterness spreading through your veins, you had to talk to him, tell him you loved him, but how?

Harry opened the egg, bright light of gold broke out followed by loud screeching, breaking you out of your toxic train of thoughts, Fred and George dropping Harry and flinching like you and everyone else, covering your ears and begging Harry to shut it up.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron interrupted.

Fred huffed and shook his head “As if this party couldn’t get any worse.” he turned around and tried to flee to his dorm room, calling it a night and encouraging everyone to get to bed.

The two girls behind you who were salivating over Fred pushed past you and called him over, blushing and batting their eyelashes at him.

“We’re throwing a party of our own” she eyed him up as if he was something to eat “tonight doesn’t have to end on a downer.”

Her plan worked, instantly gaining Fred’s attention, he grinned and nodded “Wicked, can I bring someone along?”

“George is already invited” her friend replied, smirking at George.

“Can I bring someone else too, though?” Fred asked.

The girls exchanged looks with one another cautiously, but they didn’t want to let him down or uninterested him, “Of course! Who?”

Probably his friend Lee or some girl he’s fucking.

“Y/N!” Fred called out, smiling at you “You want to join this party with me?”

The girls glared at one another, muttering and swearing under their breaths to one another.

This is your moment, Y/N, don’t mess this up, shoot your shot.

“Yeah!” You smiled back, feeling honoured and slightly shocked “Yeah, sure!”

Once everyone had cleared off, you and your new group sneaked out of the common room and into Moaning Myrtle's territory, all the professors were either partying or fast asleep, even Mr Filch and Mrs Norris grudgingly had the night off.

The dark and grubby bathroom spun around whilst you got onto your knees, the cold tile floor making you shudder when coming into contact with your warm legs. The two girls smirked and sat down too, the shorter one pulling Fred to sit down next to her, her hand continuously placing itself on his knee, ticking you off.

“Well, since Y/N decided to drink her feelings, we’ve got an empty bottle and we could do with a game to lighten up the mood.” The shorter girl spoke out, causing Fred to give her a dirty look for calling you out.

“What is it then?” George asked “Pretty shit place for a party.”

“Careful” you hiccoughed “Don’t want to make Mrytle cry.”

“We’ve decided truth or dare, but with spinning the bottle. Whoever it lands on has to answer a truth, or accept a dare from the spinner.”

You rolled your eyes “Seems very... tween like of you.”

Fred laughed.

“You weren’t invited, so feel free to leave if this party isn’t good enough for you.”

You ignored her and played along anyway.

“George” she squealed “Truth or dare?”

George hesitated for a moment “Truth”

“Does Fred keep you up at night with all the girls he brings back?”

After what felt like an eternity, the bottle finally landed back and George, and he spun the bottle, causing it to land on you.

“Y/N, truth or dare?”

I swear if you ask me anything stupid -

“D-dare.” you hiccoughed again, trying to act bigger than your boots.

George stared at the two desperate girls and looked back at you “I dare you to snog my brother.”

Okay, I really wish I went for truth, what was I thinking? Bloody hell!

“Okay then” you replied nervously, crawling in the middle of the circle, Fred crawling over to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Fred’s warm, large, gentle hands cupped your face, leaning in, his lips pressed against yours shocking both of you as if a spark had ignited, whilst you kissed back, your hands tangled in his long golden hair and the two of you were suddenly hit with the realisation of how in love with one another you actually were.

More students had caught wind of the lame party and livened it up, playing music and brightening the bathroom up with colourful moving lights, bringing more fire whiskey and encouraging everyone to dance.

Everyone around you watched as you and Fred continued to snog, his tongue dancing with yours, his cock starting to support a semi, everyone cheered aside from the two girls who felt as if they had shot themselves in the foot.

“Okay!” the girl called out again, trying to pull Fred away “Times up!”

but he didn’t want to stop, and neither did you, the memories you shared playing out in front of you.

“I’m sorry for crashing into you” he frowned, sitting next to you on the train “is your head alright? I can try and make the bruising go away.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him, you chuckled and shook your head “It’s okay but thank you for offering” you smiled.

His twin brother entered the carriage, “Fred-” he stared at you “what’s happened to you?”

“I wish you were coming with us” Fred sighed, grumbling to himself.

“Oh don’t be silly, you’re going on holiday!” you beamed “just make sure you take plenty of pictures, I’ve heard Egypt is lovely!”

“I’ll write to you and I’ll send the photos through the owl post if I’ve got enough time.”

“We’re supposed to be studying for our O.W.Ls!” you hissed at Fred, hiding your answers from him as he continued to make your stationary levitate and drop onto your head.

“Please take part in this prank, Y/N” he begged “I promise I won’t ask for anything ever again.”

“But you always do, Freddie!”

He stared at you, pouting and making puppy eyes.

“Fine” you sighed, giving in “Let’s go and do it then.”

Fred punched the air and grabbed you by the hand, pulling you away from your desk, the two of you smirking and giggling with excitement.

“I didn’t realise it would be this cold” you shivered, standing outside of Honey Dukes, snow falling from the sky and sticking to the pavement.

Fred pulled off his knitted jumper “Put this on love, don’t want you freezing now do we?”

The memories snapped away as Fred fell back, his arm in the girl's hand, you were desperate for more and opened your eyes, frowning that he had been dragged away for a dance with her, you watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands rested on her waist.

Getting off your now red cold knees and standing up, you downed some more fire whiskey from the first bottle you laid eyes on and decided to copy Fred - dancing with anyone who wanted you - grinding against them, having them hold you close and breathing down your neck, you had to admit, for someone who had never done this before, you were doing a pretty good job, almost as if you had done it before.

Fred couldn’t get you, the kiss, the feeling of your lips, tongue, and the replay of memories out of his head. Breaking away from the girl, he approached you as you pulled away from the tall Hufflepuff lad, finally reuniting with the love of your life. Almost instantly, Fred’s lips collided with yours, your hands back to being tangled in his hair and his hand squeezing your behind teasingly, alcohol on your breath and his.

“I want you.” you breathed, pulling away from the kiss “I want you to fuck me like you do everyone else.”

“I want you too” Fred replied, taking your hand and fleeing from the party.

After what seemed like a marathon, you finally burst into Fred’s empty dorm room, he shut the door behind him and locked it before kissing you passionately, lowering you onto the bed and taking your clothes off.

This was it, the moment you were craving for years on end, this was it, this was how you would be losing your virginity, this would be giving yourself to your best friend entirely.

But Fred had no idea that it was your first time, in his head, you were having just as much sex as him.

Fred couldn’t get over the sight of your naked body, your breasts, your tummy, your bum, your inner thighs, your exquisite crotch - you were the definition of perfect, he had forgotten about every girl he had ever seen naked at the sight of you, you were making him feel as if this was his first time all over again.

Fred sucked on your nipples whilst he stimulated your clit with his fingers, warming you up, the sensation of his warm tongue and mouth sent shivers of pleasure down your spine, and as nervous as you were, you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he played with your touch starved clit.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Fred asked, pulling away from your breasts.

“Yes,” you breathed out, slurring slightly “I’m ready Freddie.”

Fred’s head, like yours, was also spinning. He stumbled and reached for the lube, applying it onto his length and then across your tight hole. Fred felt as if he had forgotten something, but the more he wracked his own brain, the more he couldn’t remember what he needed. He laid you on your back and climbed on top, lining himself against your entrance.

Looking at you one last time to make sure, you nodded, and he slowly pushed himself inside of you, stretching you out as your walls tightened around you. You winced as you experienced an entirely new feeling, Fred slowed down and stayed still inside of you so you could adjust to his size when you were ready to continue, Fred started to trust himself inside and out of you gently, holding your hand and kissing your head as you started to feel incredible pleasure, your soft moans spilling from your lips.

Fred couldn’t believe he had gotten so lucky, he was fucking - no - he wasn’t - he was making love to the most perfect girl in the world, someone he actually cared deeply for and had feelings for, you weren't a stranger, you were special, you weren’t temporary, you were soothing his aching heart - your absence was the cause, and your love - the medicine.

You watched as Fred’s hard cock slid inside and out of you, you admired his perfect body, the way he moaned and expressed the pleasure he was feeling through his facial expressions, you gripped onto his hand tighter as he picked up his speed and throbbed inside of you, you didn’t want this to end, you wanted to live inside this moment forever.

“My- My tummy feels tight” you panted, not knowing what was happening.

“Cum for me, Y/N.” Fred panted too “Don’t hold back.”

Oh, so that’s what that feeling means?

The pressure built up until it burst, you felt yourself explode as the pleasure became more intense, you relaxed and released, creaming down Fred’s length, your walls strangling him.

“Fuck!” Fred panted, the beads of sweat spreading across his forehead and back “I’m cumming baby!”

Baby.

“Y/N!”

Fred released his sperm deep inside of you without realising he didn’t have a condom on, you didn’t know whether he had put one on or not either, you didn’t know to ask or mention it, you were on birth control up until last week, you had to come off it due to the side effects and stress you under as your N.E.W.Ts approached.

Fred slowly pulled out and collapsed in your arms, the two of you holding one another, your eyes too heavy to stay open.

As you drifted off to sleep, your life was about to change forever.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx

[runningwithcoffee]

Love Triangles, Champagne and Tequila Part 2: Coffee and Unexpected Calls

A sort-of spin-off to the masterful 'Three Hearts' by @cityfanchelseaslut.

Part 1 is here: Love Triangles, Champagne and Tequila

Word Count: 2712

Warnings: none really for this part, unless you count language and a bit of innuendo, but if you've read these two series so far, you're probably 18 or over.

***

“Oh, fuck off, Ben,” Mason growled as he stormed off, pulling his phone out and, Ben guessed, sending several messages to y/n in a panic.

Ben stared after his friend with a slightly wounded expression. Thanks, mate. I’ve just spent my night, which I should have been spending with a sexy blonde who wanted me to fuck her senseless, consoling YOUR crying girlfriend and letting her sleep in my bed whilst I told her it would all be fine, whilst I was also trying to tell YOU not to fuck that clout chaser whilst you were pissed off your head, and that’s what I get?

Beside him, John sighed. The two of them made eye contact, then broke off, staring at the ground.

“He’ll come round,” John offered glumly.

“Right now I can wait,” Ben muttered.

“Don’t blame you,” John sighed. “Complete fuck-up, this, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. You off back home?”

“I’d better head back. Take care of yourself, yeah?” John headed inside to collect his things. Ben leaned back against the wall and sighed heavily. Time to… what? Go home, feed the dog, and get ready for next week’s training, although heading back to an empty flat did not have much appeal.

At that point, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out, half-dreading what might be on there, but being pleasantly surprised by a message from someone he hadn’t expected to hear from.

[Jack] You free right now?

He’d spotted Jack hanging out with Phil Foden and Kevin de Bruyne at the back of the event venue last night and vaguely meant to go and say hello, but other things had got in the way. He decided to call Jack, being more than a bit fed up with text messages at the moment.

“Hiya, Chilly!” Jack picked up straight away. “You free, mate?”

“Yeah, where are you?”

“Phil’s room. He’s brought his missus and the kids with him, bit of a family trip for them. She’s off doing girl stuff at the spa, so I’ve been helpin’ him keep an eye on the babs.”

“Is he there now?”

“Nah, he’s taken the kids down to go have a swim with his missus and her mates. Wanna come up? Be good to see you.”

“Yeah, I would. What’s the room number?”

Five minutes later, he was knocking on the door on one of the higher floors of the hotel, Phil having gone for a suite of rooms big enough for his family. The door was flung open to reveal Jack Grealish, wearing a familiar-looking pair of ripped jeans and a black t-shirt.

“Chilly!” Jack grinned, flinging his arms around Ben with his usual golden retriever-like levels of enthusiasm. “Great to see you mate, come in!”

Ben grinned back. It was a relief to see someone who didn’t expect him to do anything other than turn up. He followed his friend into a huge room, which looked like an explosion in a toy shop had just happened on the floor. Jack picked up a glass of Coke, took a swig, and turned back to Ben, waving a hand at the fridge for him to help himself. Ben couldn’t help noticing that Jack looked surprisingly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for the morning after an evening out. Perhaps someone had finally managed to give Jack Grealish a “Stop Getting Drunk And Acting Like A Dickhead” lecture that had actually stuck. Ben found the kettle and made himself a coffee; he hadn’t really slept well during the night, feeling weird about going to sleep with Mason’s sort-of girlfriend in his bed.

“I see you got yourself a right sort last night,” Jack smirked, nudging him hard in the ribs. “How’d it go?”

“Good, good…” Ben murmured, suddenly reluctant to share details. He and Jack had told each other wild stories about girls ever since they were teenage lads exploring the thrilling possibility that being good at football meant you might persuade a real-life, flesh and blood girl to actually touch it. Quite a few of those stories, he reflected, had been complete bollocks, at least on his side. Probably on Jack’s, too, although it sometimes seemed like half the female population of the UK would happily fling their knickers at his feet, and no small part of the male population as well if he was interested.

He was saved from having to think of anything else to say by his stomach growling.

“Not eaten, mate?” Jack grinned.

“Been too busy,” he replied, realising that last night’s chicken dinner had been some time ago. Jack smirked, obviously getting the wrong idea, but it did mean that he wandered off to find the room service menu. Ten minutes later, Ben was digging into an omelette whilst Jack chewed on a steak baguette and scrolled through his phone, letting out a slightly-muffled crow of delight. “Found her Insta! Here.”

“Whose?”

“Your bird’s from last night,” Jack replied, then turned his phone so they could both see. Alyssa’s Instagram was… interesting, Ben thought. It looked to be entirely professional, mostly black and white promotional photos of her training clients, or training herself, lifting weights or running, standard poses that were actually pretty familiar to him from doing the same sort of shoots for Chelsea and England. Maybe that was what her clients went for, although he couldn’t help thinking that y/n would have got a bit more of Alyssa’s personality into the shots. Jack let out a whistle at one picture, a standard bench press photo with a hefty amount of weight on the bar, showing a very impressive amount of definition on her chest and shoulders.

“Hope you made her happy, mate, she looks like she could pin you to the bed if you pissed her off!”

“Funny you should say that,” Ben replied without thinking, then regretted it as Jack cackled with laughter, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What, she did? She shagged you?”

Ben, ridiculously, found himself blushing. “Well… you know…”

“Nothin’ wrong with women on top, bit of a show, particularly with those tits!” Jack grinned. “She was good, yeah?”

“Could we… talk about something else?” Like, not Alyssa’s tits, thanks.

Jack cocked his head on one side, and regarded Ben with a slightly more thoughtful look than he was used to getting from the Brummie. “Alright… I have to say, for a bloke who spent the night getting his end away with a fit blonde, you don’t look like I’d expect.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, you look knackered, but you also look like someone’s trod on your dog.” Jack sighed. “Is it this thing that’s going on with Mase?”

“You know about that?”

“Stonesy told me some of it, I was wondering why Rube looked so fucked off half the time. What’s happenin’ there?”

“It’s a complete shitshow.” Ben finished the omelette, drained the rest of his coffee and sighed, then began filling Jack in on the events of the previous evening, the night, and the morning, emphasising several times that he and y/n had definitely not done anything other than cuddle whilst she sobbed all over him. When he was done, Jack let out a long sigh and screwed up his face.

“Fuck me, that is a shitshow.”

“Complete fucking nightmare.”

“And you only got to shag the blonde bird once.”

“Her name is Alyssa, and why are you so fucking nosey? Let me guess, you didn’t get any last night.”

Jack, fortunately, was hard to offend. He shrugged. “Yeah, she’s busy… so I’m here on me own. Trying to be a good boy though.” He smiled a rueful smile, and Ben reflected that his friend suddenly looked older. Not old, but… older. We’re not teenage lads anymore.

“I don’t know what to do,” Ben admitted.

Jack frowned. “It’s dead simple.”

“Hmm?”

“Do nothin'! Well, actually, do something. Ring this blonde bird – Alyssa, all right – take her out somewhere nice, buy her something nice, then take her back to yours, and stop worrying about where Mase is sticking his dick.”

“He’s my best mate! Well, you are, too, but…”

“He is 23 years old. He wears a fucking armband. He plays for England. He can decide for himself where he’s puttin’ it! And this other bird can either have him or not, or have Rube or not, or go off and shag Kepa or Stonesy, or whatever, but it’s not up to you. Just leave yourself out of it.”

“I can’t do that when they turn up at my room crying their eyes out.”

“Yeah, maybe that is a bit of a …thing,” Jack conceded, “but mate, this is not up to you to fix. Stay out of it, and tell them to sort out their own shitshow.”

“Funny you should say that,” Ben began for the second time that day, but was interrupted by the door opening and Phil Foden staggering through it with two small children attached to him. The older one immediately sprinted for the toys, whilst Phil expertly juggled holding the younger one with closing the door.

“Alright, mate?” Ben greeted him.

Phil grunted. “Yeah, not too bad. Give us a minute, I’ve got to sort this one out,” and he vanished into the bathroom. Jack shifted in his seat so he could keep an eye on the small boy playing.

“You might have a point,” Ben conceded.

“There’s no ‘might’ about it,” Jack fixed him with a firm look. “This is getting in the way of yourgame. Should have been your bird waking up next to you and-” he spotted the small boy, and apparently changed what he was going to say “-not this other one.”

Ben couldn’t help agreeing, particularly since, he realised, a certain amount of his pissed-off-ness with Jack going on about it was that he hadn’t really managed to see Alyssa’s breasts, or indeed all that much of the rest of her. That should have been a much longer night. He also realised, with a wince, that she might not have been too thrilled at having to do the walk of shame from his room barely an hour after everyone had seen her leaving with him. I should have told her to get a room and charge it to my account…

Ben’s musings were interrupted by a sudden ‘thud’ from beneath him, as Phil’s son ran over and collided with Jack’s calf, which didn’t budge an inch. “Unca Jack!” Jack looked down with the curiosity of a large golden retriever noticing a puppy, then reached down to scoop the small boy up and seat him on his knee; clearly, his own large family meant he’d spent a certain amount of time around small children. “That’s right, I’m Uncle Jack!”

The young boy grinned and started to point everywhere, chanting “Unca Jack, Unca Jack!”

“Don’t think he’s figured out what that means,” Ben chuckled.

“Yeah, they do this, the little ‘uns… Like they learn one thing and keep sayin’ it until they figure it out.”

“You should teach him to say something else,” Ben suggested.

An evil grin split Jack’s face. “You’re right, mate.” He bent down slightly, smiled at the boy, and said very slowly. “Repeat after me, ‘Chelsea-Are-Wankers’…”

At that moment, Phil appeared through the bathroom door, summoned either by parental instinct or perhaps just having remembered that it was a bad idea to leave either small children or Jack Grealish unsupervised for any length of time. He retrieved his son and glared at Jack. “Don’t you go teaching him that! If the missus hears him, I’ll be sleeping on the bloody sofa.”

“Bloody sofa?” the young boy repeated thoughtfully.

Jack looked at Phil reproachfully. “Phil, no bad language in front of the kids!”

Phil gave him a look that suggested it would be very unwise for Jack to leave his kit unattended at the Etihad for any time in the foreseeable future. Ben tried not to kill himself laughing. “Right, both of you, OUT! The missus and her mates are coming back up here.”

“No bother,” Jack pointed at their plates. “Pay you for those?”

Phil shook his head. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Just DON’T go teaching my kid anything else!”

Ben grinned. “Thanks, and fair enough, we’re off, but good to see you, Phil.”

Phil grinned back. “You too, see ya.”

They wandered out, accompanied by the sound of Phil’s young son repeating thoughtfully “Bloody sofa, Daddy?” Jack cracked up laughing the second they were through the door. Ben shook his head. “You don’t change, do you?”

Jack shrugged. “Maybe a bit… got to move on, haven’t ya?” They walked back down to the floor with Jack’s room, one floor above Ben’s.

“Yeah, it’s not been too easy for you, has it?” Ben murmured as they stopped at Jack’s room so that he could finish packing.

“No,” his friend replied thoughtfully. “No, I didn’t expect it to be quite like this.”

“Do you ever wish you hadn’t?” Ben hadn’t quite meant to ask, but the question came out anyway.

Jack reflexively looked around for anyone listening, then shrugged and opened the door to his room, which, as usual, looked as though a bomb had gone off in it. Ben kicked the door shut behind them as Jack dropped down to sit on the bed.

“Honestly? Yeah, sometimes. The past few months, yeah, there’s been times I’ve thought, you were a fucking king at Villa, why did you leave? Like, do they actually need me? If I never hear ‘£100 million man’ again… like that’s some fucking magic thing that means I can just fit straight in and I don’t have to learn where Kev and Rube and Phil and the gaffer need me to be, and what I’m meant to be doin’… yeah, it’s not been good.”

Ben reflected that perhaps no-one, probably including Jack himself, had really thought about what it would be like for Jack to leave Villa for a new club having had almost no experience of having played anywhere else, particularly when that new club was City. “So, why did you?”

“Cause I thought to meself, you could stay here, at Villa. You could stay here until you stop playing, always be the local hero... and you’d always wonder, what if you’d had the balls to try it? To go somewhere else, somewhere I could play in the Champions League, play for the gaffer, see if I could get even better?” He shook his head. “I figured, I should just fucking go for it.” He grinned at his friend. “Like you should!”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve met this bird last night, you’ve shagged her once-” Jack raised a hand to stop Ben interrupting him- “and now you’re tellin’ me to use her name and stop talking about her tits. You don’t just wanna leave it there, do you, Chilly? It’s not just Mase who’s wanting a girl, is it?”

Ben stared at him. Jack shrugged. “Look, I know everyone thinks I’m a big Brummie idiot, and they might be right, but I’m not totally dead between me ears. I wore an armband too, you know, you do have to keep an eye out for what’s going on. You should go for it, mate. It’s good, sometimes, having someone in your corner.”

Ben gave him am oh, really? look, to which Jack grinned ruefully. “Yeah, I know how that sounds, coming from me. I have carried on like a right dickhead sometimes, and I ain’t proud of it. But… you try. You just have to start again, and get on with it. She’s given you her number and told you to call her, it’s pretty fucking obvious what she wants!”

“Thanks, Jack.” Ben smiled. The Brummie smiled back, beginning to stuff his clothes back into a suitcase. Ben reflected that he should probably leave too. “See you round, yeah?”

“St George’s Park, you, me, Mase, big Buks, Pickers, Raz… be good. We go again.”

“We go again,” Ben agreed. His friend left off packing and gave him another hug.

“Listen to what I’m tellin’ you – stop worryin’ about where Mase is putting his dick, and think more about where you should be putting yours!”

***

Smut'n'angst returns in Part 3.

[academicdisasterfic]

Six Sentence Someday

This feels as good a time as any to say I'm writing my break up, glow up, fall back in love fic??? It's long, and it's got a long way to go, but some key elements: Draco leaves his husband, goes to law school, the Ministry is corrupt, Draco starts helping the Gryffindor squad take them to international court, he and Harry work closely together, and there's a Golden Retriever and a Scottish Wildcat and lots of cute things. It's much more character focussed than the plot would have you believe, and very much about finding yourself and learning to love who you are. This scene takes place just before Draco's first day on the case. Thanks for the tag @tackytigerfic <3

CW for homophobic language/internalised homophobia

...

Draco squeezed his eyes shut as a kaleidoscope of scenes played in his mind.

‘You’re a disgrace,’ Lucius says to five year old Draco, snatching Narcissa’s pink lipstick from him.

‘No one will care that you’re bent if you don’t act like it,’ Marcus Flint advises a panicking, teary thirteen year old Draco.

‘That’s a bit over the top, isn’t it?’ Theo asks twenty year old Draco, who looks wistfully at a Muggle floral suit, dark blue and blush pink accentuated with gold lining.

‘Fuck this,’ Draco suddenly said to the empty room, and Lyra gave a small meow in assent. He strode over to his dresser, and drew out a string of pearls that once belonged to his grandmother, securing them under his collar. He pulled out his collection of silver rings and shoved his usual favourites on, and changed his tongue piercing from clear to bronze (the tongue piercing had been, of course, Pansy’s idea, a probably ill-considered choice preceded by three rounds of tequila). He brushed out his eyebrows and put on mascara and lip balm.

When he finally stood back and looked at himself in the mirror, it was like something clicked into place and a small voice, from somewhere deep and hidden inside him, said I’ve been waiting for this.

Perhaps he did look a bit too camp for his father’s taste. Perhaps his ex-husband wouldn’t have found him to be appropriately dressed. Perhaps he just didn’t give a fuck, anymore.

He was going to his first day in an office, after eight years - well, twenty-six years, really - of being exactly who everyone else expected him to be. Fuck that. Fuck that. He got to do this on his own terms, now.

I tag anyone who wants to participate! plus @merlinisnotover @softlystarstruck @lou-isfake @drarrymybeloved @scattered-moonlight @skeptiquewrites @phoebe-delia

[ramonahblog]

Okay so I went into Heartstopper expecting it to be the exact opposite to what my tumblr dashboard was shouting. 

I am very shocked to discover that if anything, my dashboard was being subtle here. I much prefer this way, tbh. 

Also I can’t believe the show actually said bisexual (and bisexuality) multiple times. I know technically that’s a light spoiler but it’s so fucking rare even today. I’m an old and crabby lady when it comes to how media portrays bisexuality. 

Spoilers for Heartstopper season one. 

Nick lives on the edge - taking sexuality quizzes but not going in an incognito window. 

I won’t drag the kids too much since they’re teens but I fell out of my chair laughing at the “he’s the straightest” line. 

Pfft. Meanwhile Nick is bi panicking over here. Speaking of, like I mentioned, good bisexual characters are still rather rare and a bisexual guy (especially a sporty one) is even rarer. 

I’ve seen posts and fanvids say Nick has golden-retriever energy and that is a very apt description. 

Also I have watched the scene where Nick comes out to his mum so many times. The first time, the show had me concerned they weren’t going to say bisexual but since they already have, I gave them a chance. Just know this scene has been watched multiple times by me. 

It’s still so rare to actually have “bisexual” stated full on. 

Also the acting in that scene from both Nick’s actor and Sarah’s actor is amazing. Just everything Nick does - the nervousness, the lead-in and making sure his mom doesn’t misunderstand what he’s trying to tell her. Then his face as his mum hugs him. It’s amazing.  

And on Sarah’s end - did anyone else pick up the fact Sarah looks like she wants to interrupt and reassure Nick? But she like physically stops herself (look at her face) until her son has said everything. 

And just “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that you couldn’t tell me that” and the hug she gave him. I don’t even like hugs and that got me. 

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: Little Brother Knows Everything

I lied. Here's a bonus chapter.

Warnings: Mention of Death ; Unrequited[?] Love ; Mention of bombs ; Jealousy

Words: 3.1k

Tommy may have been an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. He noticed the little things more often than he didn’t. But there were four things he knew about you better than anyone else.

Tommy knew that you liked tea.

Siblings, and people in general, seem to have this habitual kind of indicator of their mood. Some people bounced their leg when they were nervous, others liked to twiddle their thumbs or pop joints; It’s different for everyone.

But he could always tell how [y/n] felt by the tea they were drinking.

When they were nervous, they made tea brewed from lavender buds collected from a flower field they often visited with Technoblade or Phil. They brought Tommy once. He had run around the whole area with infinite energy before the blond climbed the tree. He had climbed higher and higher until he could feel the warmth of the setting sun shine on his face. The branch broke, but when he plummeted, he wasn’t scared. They were at the bottom, waiting to catch him. They were always waiting to inevitably catch him no matter if it was from his own stupid decisions or from someone else’s. They got nervous a lot, but when he was by their side, he could never be.

When [y/n] was stressed, they made tea out of the peppermint leaves in their garden. The scent filled their house while it brewed and the act of harvesting the herb was “soothing”. Tommy wasn’t sure how weeding was supposed to be relaxing, but he happily did it when their newest sibling figure asked him to. He remembered pulling out a whole mint plant the first time he had worked beside them, unknowing that that was the plant he was supposed to be protecting. They had laughed, gently scolding him, before setting it aside. Even if they were stressed out, they never took it out on him.

When he was sad or upset, they made chamomile tea with honey. Chamomile is a calming flower, he remembered them saying once. And the honey helped you remember that golden days were ahead. They made it for him every morning after he would wake up in the bed he seemed to sleep in more than his own. Sometimes the honey came from Technoblade, sometimes they had retrieved it themselves from wild hives, but they always seemed to get the best stuff. Even when he cried or started to -what was the word they had used? Disassociate? That sounded correct-, he could expect the mug to be pushed into his hands, a sugary but not cloying aroma wafting off it. He always felt much better when he left. He could never remember seeing them drink the tea, despite having such an abundance of it. Did they even get sad? He had never witnessed it.

When they were happy, they made black tea of various kinds and drank sweet iced tea that reminded him of what diabetes would taste like if it were liquid. They drank this with him almost daily. It was always a new blend they wanted to try and perfect or one they wanted him to taste. He loved smelling this tea the most. When its fragrance filled the air, somehow, everything felt right in the world. He couldn’t recall a single time when he didn’t see them on the porch, drinking the amber liquid out of a glass when they knew he’d be coming over for dinner.

It was the days when you didn’t drink tea at all, he was afraid.

Tommy knew that no matter what someone did to them, [y/n] wasn’t afraid to make enemies or insert themselves between their friends and any sort of danger to protect them.

Dream was surprised to see [y/n] at the meeting between the Greater Dream SMP and L’Manburg. It was only supposed to be him and George convening with Tubbo and Tommy. They held no real power in the country. They didn’t belong in this meeting, just like they didn’t belong in this timeline.

He watched the way they, during George and Tubbo’s discussion, rested a hand on Tommy’s arm when his hands clenched hard enough to turn his knuckles white. He saw how they would murmur quietly to him and the child would relax ever so slightly. He noticed the nods they gave the blond when he looked to the adult for confirmation after he made a questionable statement. He observed your true role here.

“Nice to see you replace Wilbur so quickly, Tommy. That’s good. He was a horrible role model for you.” His lips curled behind his mask at the shocked expression on everyone else’s face aside from the vice president before him. His eyes were sharp, angry. “Maybe without his influence, you’ll actually be a competent leader for something.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Considering L’Manburg was supposed to be totally destroyed and returned back to the Greater Dream SMP, I’m glad you found someone a bit less self-destructive to help keep you under control. We all know Wilbur did a horrible job at it.” Watching the child soldier stand quickly gave him a certain satisfaction.

“Fuck you, bitch! I don’t need to be told what to do.” Dream watched [y/n] give Tommy a warning look and the way he ignored it.

“And yet you followed someone who lost his own presidential race and blew up his own country before seeking out validation from someone else.”

“I don’t-”

“Tommy.” He watched the blond flinch at the edge to your voice and look down at you.

“He’s saying I-”

“I’m aware. He’s just trying to rile you up. It’s what he does. Ignore him.” The glare they sent him made a sharp jolt go down his spine, but he couldn’t help the chuckle that spilled from his covered mouth.

“Listen to your sibling, Tomathy. At least this one is sane. And if they kill themself, they’ll come back.” Tommy opened his mouth once more to say something before it snapped closed and he released a breath through his nose.

“I don’t need this.” The slam of the door echoed through the now quiet room.

Dream’s attention was immediately back on [y/n]. He watched them square their shoulders and lower their head to look him dead-on. Their glare met him with a hidden fury threatening to break forth and raise the hell that seemed to be just as deeply rooted in them as it was the company they kept. Their lips were pursed in a way that made his own grin grow larger. "Wilbur may not have been the best man. He may have hurt me and put the rest of L’Manburg in this situation. But that is our business alone, and you have no right to say anything bad about him or about Tommy, for that matter."

There was a pregnant pause and he heard George start laughing awkwardly to dispel the tension before being hushed hurriedly by Tubbo.

“And what is it you’ll do to me if I do?” Dream kept his voice level.

“You know why I’m here and who’s behind me. You can use your imagination..” They stood, chair scraping against the floor loudly. “I’m going to check on Tommy.” “But we’re not done!” They stopped at the door, hand resting on the handle.

“I’m sure you can handle the rest by yourself, Tubbo. You know what to do.” They looked at him over their shoulder, before glancing over George and then settling on the man in green. “Don’t you ever speak his name ever again. Or we just might have to build that prison you mentioned. Am I understood?” Sullen nods came from the monarch and the president as they stormed out.

“Well, that was something.”

Tommy had been sitting in the hallway, curled in on himself the same way he had been after the Pit incident.

“Toms?”

“Why is he even here?”

You sat next to him, back resting against the wall.

“Because he cares about George. Kinda like why I was in there for you.” You felt the taller lean against you and relax when you wrapped your arm around him. “I’ll always be here for you, Kiddo.”

You felt him nod and you pressed a kiss to his hair.

“You know I’m not trying to replace Wilbur, right?”

“Of course not. We were like brothers.” His lips quirked a little when he heard your laugh.

“If he were here, I’m sure he’d tell you not to say that or he’d cry.”

“Good. Fucking bitch.”

He didn’t know what he’d do if you never came back.

Tommy knew that the only other person who loved you as much as he did was Technoblade.

Techno had never felt jealous of Tommy before. Or really anyone. He was pretty secure in his position as your best friend, and the vast amounts of platonic affection you showered him with kept him content. Even during the Pogtopia rebellion, watching the looks and touches Wilbur gave you or seeing the child sneak into your bed for another night in a row didn’t make him jealous. So why did he suddenly have the very real impulse to shove the blond off the side off a cliff just to retake some of your attention?

The hybrid watched you talk with your hands as you recounted the night before and your surprise at finding Tommy already there when you came home from Phil’s. He was happy he had been right. You and Philza were similar in many ways and got along well. You would constantly joke with Techno that you were trying to get yourself adopted by the older blond and he would just respond with an amused “don’t tempt him, he might.”. You would always laugh in response.

That was always the best sound.

He listened to your words as he topped off the teacup in front of you with more of the red-tinted liquid. The warm scent of earl grey and roses wafted off of the cup tinged with the subtle tang of the orange peel he had added on a whim. You were right in your suggestion. Citrus always makes deeper teas better.

“If it’s really that bad, the offer to move in still stands. I have more than enough room and you can escape that raccoon.” He snickered at the pout that rested on your lips.

“I never said that I didn’t like it! And don’t call Tommy a raccoon.” He sipped his own tea.

“It’s true. Gets into trash, beady little eyes, a nuisance. He even breaks into your house.”

“He has a key, Tech. It’s different.” You had rolled your eyes at him, but the smile on your face spoke of your fondness for them both. He felt the small well of jealousy in his chest flare. Did Tommy know how privileged he was? He hoped the child knew.

“I’m just sayin’. Whenever you want to leave that place, my door will always be open for you.” He watched your smile soften and the firm squeeze when you reached across the table for his forearm.

“I appreciate it, but Tommy needs me still. Maybe one day, okay?” He grunted at you and you giggled. “Who knows, maybe Phil will come with! He could build his own little cabin and everything.”

“I’ve already extended the offer to him as well. He said he’ll think about it.” You shook your head.

“He’s probably trying to figure out how close to the meadow he’d be in comparison.”

“Man loves the flowers, what can he say?”

“Sure, it’s definitely the flowers.” You sipped your tea with a knowing grin.

“What else would it be?” He watched the glint in your eyes, seeing exactly what Tommy had always said about you. They had seemed a lot deeper lately, more knowledgeable. The child had always claimed that you spoke like you knew more than you let on and he saw it in your smile sometimes, but the look you were giving him right at that moment confirmed it.

“Maybe it’s all the memories.”

He couldn't imagine you not returning the feelings they both held for you, despite the vast difference.

Tommy knew that you wouldn’t hide anything from him unless it was absolutely imperative.

He found you sitting in the living room, curled into an old recliner that you would never tell him where it came from. You felt Tommy haphazardly throw his arms around your shoulders from behind, releasing a small sigh of contentment as he pressed his face further into your neck.

"Hey, Kiddo, what’re you up to?" His grip on you slackened, and you could almost feel his face draw up to a small pout. He absolutely hated that nickname but couldn’t deny the small warmth that flared in his stomach whenever you called him it.

"[Y/n], how many times have I asked you to stop calling me that?" He removed himself from you when you shrugged your shoulders.

"Sorry, Toms, the nickname stays. You're too much of a brat for it to leave." He groaned, eyebrows drawing together. You knew he wasn’t entirely mad at the name. He wouldn’t have whined the way he did if he truly wanted you to stop. You and Tommy seemed to share a wavelength. It wasn’t the same one you shared with Techno, but it was just as perfect. You wished you could tell him why it was.

The realization set a rock that started in your throat and slowly started to sink to your stomach. It spread through you, causing a wet hot sensation to form behind your eyes. You’d never be able to tell your little brother your deepest secret. What if he hated you? What if he told everyone else and they cast you out? What if he felt he couldn’t trust you anymore?

Carefully pulling yourself out of your own thoughts, you looked up at the child. “I’m sorry, what was it you wanted?”

"Can I talk to you?" Your eyes flicked to the book you were reading before back to him. You knew what he wanted. A bookmark was wedged between pages and the room was silent before you stood. "Sure, kiddo. Is it going to be a long chat?" You set off to the kitchen, soon pouring some water into an old kettle that Phil had given you the day that you had awoken. You had been “gone” for over a full day. Aside from Phil, no one else knew what had happened and where you went.

An opaque jar was pulled from the cupboard, carefully opened, and he watched as purple buds, green leaves, and yellow-white flowers were deposited gently onto the mesh cloth that you would tie into a sachet. He had never seen them combine those teas. He didn’t even realize you had such a large jar of it stored.

“What happened at Phil’s?” You hesitated before steadying your hand and pouring the steaming water into a teapot before setting the sachet in. It floated for a moment before you used the string to dunk the bag a few times to soak it before it sank midway.

You only pulled one mug down.

You gestured for him to sit at the table and he took it. You could see the way his anxiety rose even higher when you didn’t sit across from him.

“What day? I’ve been at Phil’s a lot lately.”

“Oh fuck off. You know what day I’m talking about.” You shrugged, trying to keep your expression even.

“I really don’t, Tommy. You’re going to have to narrow it down for me.” Your fight or flight instincts were dialed to high when he gave you a knowing look.

“You don’t have to lie to me, [y/n]. I’m not a child.”

“Yes, you are, and I’m not lying.” You flinched when he slammed his hands on the table, chair screeching as it was slid back with too much force before it fell backwards.

“Then why have you changed?” You froze. “You used to love spending time with me before-”

You wanted to reach out, to comfort him, when you saw his lips quiver, but he turned his head away from you. He couldn’t look you in the eye.

“Before you were gone for almost two days and came back wrong. You don’t talk like how you used to either. It’s like you know things, but like, more than you used to. And come to find out from Ranboob, you had gone to Philza’s house. What did he tell you?”

You just shook your head, wanting to tell him you remembered him. You remembered every timeline he was in. Every moment he had fought for what he believed in and won. Every time he had died. Every timeline he could have died.

“Did I do something? Is it because of Ghostbur? Do you-” He looked back up at you, looking exactly like the sixteen year old he was supposed to be. “Do you hate me?”

“Of course not, Tommy. Why in the world would you ever think that?”

“Then why won’t you tell me what’s going on? Siblings don’t keep secrets.”

“They do when they’re trying to protect the ones they love, Tommy.” You watched his face grow red in frustration.

“You’re not always gonna be there for me, [y/n]!”

“You don’t know that.”

“Why won’t you just tell me?” His voice broke, and so did your heart.

“Because you’re still just a kid, Tommy. And I think sometimes you forget that. And everyone else too. And I can’t tell anyone what happened.”

“But why? I stopped being a child when we won our first war. I should be able to hear about this!”

“Because the things I saw, the things I heard, no one else should have to bear this weight.” You swallowed back your tears. This was no time to cry. “You can be mad at me all you want, Tommy. But I’m still the same [y/n] who tucks you into bed and links pinkies with you on the Prime Path and who will always be there for you.”

The hurt look he gave you would haunt you for the rest of your lifetimes.

“Then why won’t you let me be there for you?” You could only shake your head.

“Because that’s not how it works, Kiddo.” Tommy’s eyes hardened and he sucked in a quivering breath.

“Fine.” He started walking back towards the door.

“Toms, where are you going?” He didn’t answer you.

His tea was bitter and cold by now, and for a moment, he couldn’t help but feel the same.

Tommy knew all those things about you. So why did it feel like maybe he didn’t know you at all?