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80s4life · 10 months

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Together At Last”

Word Count: 3,971

Status: Requested!

Ask: Can I have Chris Chambers x reader with the prompt "You're different and I like that"

@: @micheleamidalajedi

A/N: I absolutely LOVED this request because I was able to put myself into the Reader and prove that not everyone is the same, female, male, or nonbinary, or all of the girlypops!

Relationship: Chris Chambers x Merrill!Reader

Fandom: Stand By Me 1986

Summary: It’s been 5 years since the disappearance and eventual death of Ray Brower, and you’re each reaching graduation. However, another adventure arises and brings all 5 of you back to the woods to find Teddy’s dog. The problem? Almost all of you have either grown apart or split completely, and old feelings seem to resurface with unresolved conclusions. What could go wrong?

Warnings: mutual pining, adventure, confessions, AGED UP!, friends to enemies to lovers, some angst, nostalgia, lost friendships, gained friendships, Teddy is a brother figure to Reader, gun, unintentional intent to kill someone, strong language, Reader is Ace Merrill’s sibling,

{gif is not mine, credits go to @awidevastdominion}

Your landline rings, deriving you of your thoughts and current intensity studying for finals. Groaning, you shrug out of your seat at the kitchen table begrudgingly, answering the phone. “Hello?”

“Y/N? ‘S that you?” a familiar voice, deepened with maturity and hormones asks on the other side.

“Yeah, what do you want?”

“Nice to know you haven’t changed,” you can hear the voice taunt annoyingly.

“It’s been years since I’ve talked to you, did you expect a ‘Hey, what’s up’?”

“I would have preferred that, yes, but no. This is serious, and I really need you on board with me this time.”

“This better not be one of your schemes, Teddy, I’m not up for anything right now,” you sigh, “I’m up to my neck with textbooks and shit with studying for the finals and stuff. Dad’s been on my ass about getting into a college since I’ve been able to hold a B+ to A average.”

“Damn. Sorry to say I can’t relate?”

You giggle, sighing as you’ve missed him. You couldn’t quite tell what happened to cause you to separate, but as if you had just blinked, everyone was gone and you were left to yourself and school. “Alright Teddy, what bullshit are we pulling now?”

“Glad you asked!” he all but yells in happiness, “My dog went missing a few days ago and I haven’t been able to find him all over town. I know this sounds childish, but I swear, I’ve walked the whole town everyday at dawn before school and haven’t been able to find him.”

“So, you’re guessing he’s in the woods?” you groan, remembering the haunting history you’ve witnessed first hand in said territory.

There’s a long pause before he lets out a low, “...Yes...”

“What did the others say?”

“What makes you think I asked them?” he tries to sound as if he’s not that easy to read; a “changed man.”

“Because I still know you, or some of you. There’s no way this is going to be a one night thing and we need more sets of dependable eyes.”

“Well, now you’re making me sound smart.”

You giggle, “I’m not gonna keep beating around the bush Teddy, I’m in as long as the others are?”

“Yes!” he shrieks.

...

A few days later, as instructed by Teddy, you carry your sleeping bag, flask of water, some snacks, and money (something you all collectively forgot last time) to the dumpsters behind the town’s cafe. Trudging around the corner, your breath catches in your throat as you lay eyes on the back of three familiar heads and a face, each people you thought you have grown so far apart from.

“Y/N!” the voice of the face coming from Teddy.

You nod silently, leaning against the brick building as you keep your distance.

The three boys that are now men, turn around to take you in, eyes wide.

You wave nervously, age and distance having changed all of you and making you feel as if you don’t know these people.

Teddy still had his familiar square-shaped, black glasses, but his hair is cut to fit the army’s conduct, shaved short on the sides around the back, the top of his head a bit longer. There was just enough hair for Teddy to comb it back with gel just as he had as a preteen - before you all turned away to seek your own lives. He grew a bit taller, standing at 5′5″, but not by much. You giggle internally.

To the far left, you see Gordie and your heart breaks a little. He’s still lean in build, but he’s grown to be tall and confident, around 5′11″ - 6′0.” To you, he hasn’t changed a bit, except personality. He still had his longer hair, possibly longer than you remember it, with the same hairstyle and familiar baby face, though slightly aged.

Next was Vern, and he was so big now. He managed to drop the weight, a lean build of muscle standing above 6′0″ and carrying his dopey grin with longer hair - a similar style to Gordie’s, though unintentionally. You smile at him. He’s still a sweetheart, but more like a big, lovable Chocolate Lab now.

Lastly was Chris, and he was still as gorgeous as ever. He came to be of above average height, 5′10,″ grew his hair out longer and adorned circular glasses that framed his face perfectly. His eyes carry no emotion, a contrast to his younger self, but they’re still that luscious deep blue. He looks you up and down in silence before staring you directly in your eyes. You can feel your heart break all over again.

You didn’t realize how long you were staring at each of them before Teddy clears his throat. “Shall we?” he tries to smirk, but the tension is thick.

You hug your arms around your abdomen as you nod, plastering a smile of your face as you force yourself to stand beside the now men. Slowly, everyone starts to follow Teddy until you reach the tracks.

Some time later, as you walked on the tracks, you lagged behind. Now, with this view, you could see where everyone had changed, but not as much as you thought. Gordie and Chris got to talking amongst themselves far in front of the group, Teddy and Vern behind them. They’re all too busy catching up for them to notice your inner turmoil.

You almost want to cry. You don’t know any of them anymore. This was a fact that your younger self would’ve never expected or taken a liking to. You think of what your younger self would do, punishing yourself for what you allowed to happen.

You would’ve called them repeatedly, tried to make plans or catch up to them in passing to classes. All of this you could pride yourself on saying that you did, but then Gordie went the way his father wanted him to go, Chris becoming an athlete while trying to follow Gordie’s brains, getting into law, Teddy trying to apply and reapply to the military, and Vern taking a liking in the construction trade.

They all grew up, and though you couldn’t blame them, they slipped out of your hands far too quickly and suffered the backlash. Girls in school are bitches, and though you have friends, they aren’t like the ones before you. Even after all this time, they are still considered exactly that - friends, family even.

You went your own way, too, after giving up on them. You found an interest in engineering and found that it’s not exactly as you suspected. It wasn’t all math and physics and you deeply enjoyed the creativity and problem-solving it included. You have some fond classmates there, but they would never compare to these boys.

You are ripped from your thoughts as you hear the loud blaring of a train’s horn. You smirk at the memory that crosses. Calling out to Teddy, your voice is loud enough for all of the boys to hear, “Sound familiar, Teddy? We’re not gonna go diving for you on the tracks again, right?”

“Fuck off,” you can hear him giggle, jabbing Vern in the side.

All the way in the front, you can hear Gordie add, “Or have to break you and Chris up, huh?”

You giggle at the reminder. That was the time when you were all trying to figure yourselves out without guidance, restrictions, stereotypes, and parents. Teddy had a lot of trouble then.

Your smile drops as the group goes quiet again, the nostalgia dying with the connection that almost rekindled. You groan audibly - unintentionally.

The boys look back at you curiously, surprised just as much as you were.

You decide to take the initiative, “Is this what we’re going to do the whole time? Act as if we’re strangers and not speak to one another?”

“We are strangers, Y/N,” you hear Chris state with indifference.

You catch up to the group and walk between them, “There’s a reason we all came here and I know we all hoped to be together again. It doesn’t help when you don’t even try to speak to us though, does it?”

The group stops as Chris spins around on you. “Why would I? After this, we are all gonna go our separate ways and avoid each other again,” he growls and spits, “Just like last time.”

“Then, why did you come?” you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you and asking the question you were all wondering yourselves. “Why are we all here?” you look around at each of them.

“Because I missed you guys,” Vern pipes up, the first words he’s spoken the whole walk from town.

“We wouldn’t have missed each other if we had just kept our promises, would we?” Chris asks, frowning with his eyebrows scrunched together and arms crossed tightly over his chest. It almost resembles hatred.

And it makes you livid. “You broke your promise, too, Chris,” you vividly remember the promise you made just short of town on your way back; the promise that meant the world and more to you - it still does. “We all did, but at least I can say it wasn’t intentional. I tried to reach out to you guys, but we were all growing and changing. I can’t blame you guys, except you, Chris.”

“Me?” his voice reaches higher as the time passes by.

“Oh please, we all know you went from a street rat like us to the high priest and prince of school,” Teddy adds.

Chris scoffs, crossing his arms, “Gordie?”

“I mean, you did drop us after you got with Stephanie Wheeler,” Gordie deflects, shrinking in size as he knows the blows coming next. He adds, “The rich bitch of high school whose daddy is the principal.”

“This is bullshit, I should’ve never decided to come,” he shoots daggers at you.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t of because we all know that you’re embarrassed of even being seen with us,” Vern adds, caution to the wind.

Chris scoffs again as he takes up his bag, starting back to town.

“So, you’re just gonna leave?!” you scream as he creates distance.

“I fucking knew it!” Gordie screams, grabbing his bag as well to follow Chris on the opposite side of the tracks.

You watch with pain as each of the boys start back to town. All except Teddy, who manages to stand there with teary eyes.

“I just wanted us to enjoy the time, find my dog, and hopefully have one last high school hurrah before we are all forced apart,” he sniffles.

You look at him with matching sadness, “I-I’m sorry Teddy, I didn’t mean to act out like that. I just couldn’t stand another minute, let alone night, with no one planning on speaking to each other. It would have all been for nothing. Even if we had found your dog, we still would’ve hated each other. This is my fault, Teddy, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not, Y/N, it was gonna happen eventually,” his eyes watch them go, but the look in his eye is distant - his mind far beyond where they’re heading.

“We can still look for Butch together?” you manage to smile, tears brimming your eyes.

“I don’t feel like it anymore,” you can visibly see his body deflate.

“Well, can you at least stay? If there’s still some shred of them left, I think they’ll come around again. I still want to rekindle our relationship. I’ve missed you so much, Teddy,” by the time you’re finished, fresh tears are starting to roll down your cheeks.

Teddy’s voice cracks as a tear slips down his cheek, too, opening his arms to pull you in for a hug beside him on the grass.

You smile thankfully as you lean in, sighing at the comfort and history.

“It ain’t going well with my Pops, as you’d assume. He’s still a crazy bastard, but I’m sticking with him. Just for a little longer, as long as I can.”

“Understandable. We can’t forget your ear, can we?”

“Whatever,” he smirks, “What about you?”

“Mom and Dad still fight. If they aren’t fighting, neither of them are home to ensure that they don’t have to fucking see each other. Ace is still a prick, too. I wouldn’t expect him to graduate and still stay in this bum-fuck town.”

“Guess he doesn’t want his reputation to be forgotten,” Teddy giggles.

“Guess so,” you trail off, noticing the sun starting to set and the sky change color. “You think they’re coming back?”

“No, but I can hope.”

You look up at him sadly and nod. “Wanna set up camp for the night anyway?”

He nods silently, taking up his sleeping bag and finding a soft spot to lay out in the grass.

Silently, you follow his lead, walking down the side of the tracks to the opening of the trees, laying your sleeping bag just beside the first tree, hidden under the canopy of leaves. He decides to go in a little deeper, a few feet away from you, protected by the dimmer lighting in a proactive attempt to block the harsh sun that’ll come in the morning.

Sighing, you both settle in, staring at the sky. Before you know it, your miniscule, unimportant chit chat with Teddy dies down and sleep overtakes you swiftly. There’s no dreams as you toss and turn, but your glad there’s no deeper thoughts that’ll plague you and leave you wide awake.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sleeping until the soft snapping of twigs perk your ears, harshly throwing all of the sleep from your fogged mind and automatically putting it into defensive state.

Peaking around with your eyes, you catch a figure some ways to your left, walking away from your temporary camp. By the distance the figure has created and the direction of their walk, you can tell they were either walking through or around your huddle, no doubt near your camp regardless.

You flip onto your belly as silently as possible, hand sliding slowly to the underside of your pillow, fingers touching cold metal. You pull the gun from under you, the uncomfortable and foreign weight of it settling in your hand, bringing more unease into your heart and bones.

You lift yourself up slowly, noticing that Gordie and Vern have, in fact, returned and settled in a circle with you and Teddy. However, there is no sign of Chris, not even a bag.

You let out a slow breath to try and calm your racing nerves as you follow the figure, gun raised and aimed at the black figure. You gain on the figure silently, until your foot makes a horrible crunch as it breaks the branch beneath it. Cursing under your breath, you raise the gun in defense, both hands grasping and eyes trained.

The figure spins around, voice accusatory, “What the f-? Hey...” the voice lowers instantly, hands coming up to show they are unarmed. “Hey, Y/N, put the gun down,” the voice registers in your head as the figure emerges from the darkness and into the glow of the moon breaking through the trees.

“Chris?” you groan, lowering the gun instantly, shoulders dropping. “What the fuck were you thinking? Sneaking around in the woods? You know the way I sleep, man.”

“Knew,” he clarifies, “And, I was just going for a walk to clear my mind.”

“Why do you keep doing that?” you ask with a creep of annoyance settling in, pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers. “Why do you keep acting like you’re camping with strangers? Like you have absolutely no knowledge of who we are?”

“Because I don’t; I don’t know the people you have all become now. Even if there are slivers of the people I knew that show every now and then, they are no longer the people they were nor who they are now,” he steps closer to you, enough to reach out to you if he wanted to.

“I can’t say that we are who we were because that’s impossible, but we are still those loving people we were. I’ve noticed that Vern still carries a comb and is a little sensitive. Gordie is still quiet and finds meanings in everything. Teddy still has such and undoubted devotion to his father and his infatuation with the army. I still bother the shit out of everyone and parent them as a way of care. But you,” you pause, assessing him as the sadness settles in your voice and heart again, a cold shock coursing through your veins, “I can only see a person in front of me. You look like Chris, you still have that leaderly inclination, but besides that, everything has changed. Even your eyes have a different look to them, yet they are still that same pair I last looked at 5 years ago.”

Chris says nothing, his mask fitting into place and revealing nothing to you - it doesn’t even look like any of your words are reaching him.

“You keep acting like everyone here is out to get you, but we are simply just being ourselves. You see us as enemies because we had a falling out, but that’s natural. We changed - you changed - and you want to blame us for something that was out of our hands. We are still here for you Chris, I’ve always been here,” your voice is cracking as you look down at your feet, kicking some leaves and twigs to divert your attention somehow.

A hand reaches beneath your chin, tugging your head up to look into those sapphire irises once again. “You were never my enemy, you were my greatest fear,” Chris says, a pitiful grin pulling at his lips. “You know why I chose to become better? Why I went out with the cheerleaders, tried out for football, worked hard to get into the smart kid classes?”

“W-Why?” you look at him, pain and confusion streaking your E/C eyes like lightning in a storm.

“Because I knew that if I stayed where I was, I would never be able to give you what you wanted - never been able to give you everything you deserved. At first, I distanced myself because I thought I would never be good enough for you; that distance was what you needed and for me to get out of your sights, so that that better man would show up and lift you off your feet. But, you were insistent,” Chris giggles sadly as his mask starts to fall, his eyes showing the same pain and suffering that reflects off of yours. “I chose to blame you for the pain of losing you, so you would never look at me with those eyes again; never show me this source of genuine love that was undeserved and unfair.”

“But, you promised me that we would be together forever?” you question, a tear slipping from your eye as you stare at him with the newfound information. Pain of losing him, sadness of bringing such turmoil and insecurity to himself, suffering from the rift that could’ve never been, and regret that if you had known, this would have all been avoided as a whole.

“I know I made that promise, and I’m the world’s biggest hypocrite and idiot. It doesn’t matter how far away we’ve become, you can still manage to look at me with that undeserved care?” he mostly questions himself as his eyes search all over your face, both hands cupping your face in his hands.

Your hands go up to hold his wrists, looking at him with such longing. “You deserve the world, Chris. You always have and always will. You are too pure for the hand you were dealt, and yet you still push yourself farther above.”

His eyes round and snap to yours with confusion and disbelief, searching you for some sort of trick. “I’ve always loved you, Chris. No one has ever made me so damn pissed off or more loved with just one look or action. It doesn’t matter who I’ve used or dated to temporarily distract me, I’ve always worried and searched for you. You’ve always been in the deepest part of my brain. I-I still love you...so damn much.”

“You’ve always been different and I like that. You’re the biggest pain in my ass, but my greatest mistake. I love you, Y/N,” Chris smiles, a genuine display of delight and content as tears slide down his cheeks with the relinquishment of pain and torture. He’s waited too damn long for this. “I’ve always wanted to do this,” he smirks devilishly, eyes delving to your lips and up to your eyes before he leans in.

Your chapped lips meet his fresh, plump ones, smeared with chapstick with the taste of lemon. Your hands goes up to tangle in his long, blonde locks as his arms reach down to your hips to keep you tightly trapped against him; like he fears that if he doesn’t hold you tight, you’ll slip away like every dream he’s ever had of you - his greatest happiness.

You pull him in just as tight, arms around his shoulders as your hands tug, fearing the feeling of losing him again. When you part for air, you still never let go of each other, your head ducking in between the crook of his neck and shoulder. You breathe in his scent and save it to your memory as a smell you hoped to never forget or live without.

“Well, it’s about damn time! God damn!” Teddy yells from his cross legged position on his sleeping bag.

Gordie and Vern start to whoop and holler from their comfort of sleeping bags with deep pleasure and happiness.

“I knew you guys would make up eventually,” Vern added with a soft giggle.

“I was starting to miss my parents,” Gordie chided with a roll of his eyes.

“Does that mean we can all be friends now?” Vern adds with a playful glint in his eye and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“I mean, I guess I could, y’know, hang around a while,” you tease, earning a shove to your side by Chris as you both walk back to your seats on your sleeping bag.

That night, you all stayed up late trading stories of what you’ve missed within the short time away from each other, and for once since the start of your adventure, you see the benefits of their changes.

They aren’t the same people you once knew because they are now their best versions, and will continue to change for the many years to come. It’s only up to you guys to keep that connection strong and adapt with them that will keep you all bound together forever.

It was your greatest promise, but there’s been a few changes: “No matter how far away we are nor how different we become, we will always find a way back to each other. Friends forever.”

You and Chris made your own promise, too: “Whatever happens, we will learn to overcome together, forever and always, in love and sickness, at the best and worst moments. Lovers forever.”

#chris chambers #chris chambers x reader #chris chambers imagine #river phoenix #river phoenix x reader #river phoenix imagine #stand by me #stand by me x reader #stand by me imagine #gordie lachance #wil wheaton #Jerry O'Connell #vern tessio #teddy duchamp #corey feldman #ace merrill #keifer sutherland #1986

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sfwregressionfanfictions · 1 year

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Dean Winchester X Little! Reader: LD PT2

WC: 1882

Summary: An online dating app leads to a long-distance relationship.

A/N: Why does wifi suck? Also why does college give you no personal space to write??????

Part 1. Part 2

Dean was attached to his phone and computer like a high schooler. He adored having a little one he was getting to know. He recently sent a package containing a paci, a onesie, a tiara, and a few other trinkets and toys. The little one really needed to be more cautious about giving out their address as they did with him.

Cases had currently been at a standstill. So Dean was allowed to stay at home all day and talk to the age regressor he had come to care for. He learned so much in such a short time about the little artist, they told him about their family, how they work as a little bakery, and how they were scared of the closing shift. He felt bad about lying or not telling the full truth to them, but it was for their safety.

But how badly he wanted to tell them and let them know and trust him. He wanted to fully commit to the little and be their caregiver. He wanted nothin more than that. He missed taking care of someone so small and in need of protection, now that Sam was grown, he didn’t have that.

A ding from his phone interrupted his pining. It was a text from the little one.

Y/N: Good morning! I’m in charge of the bakery today! So I have to bake, wish you could try it :((

Dean: Good morning, Sweetheart. That’s so exciting! I wish I could try it too, what are you baking today?

Y/N: Gonna make macaroons, cookies, pies, and cakes. Gotta make so much, but it’s okay. Cause it will be fun.

Dean: That sounds like so much fun, bet they are gonna be so yummy! Maybe one day you could teach me how to bake?

Y/N: YES YESYESYES!!! Does that mean you are gonna come see me?

A pause just for a moment, hesitation filled the air.

Y/N: Or I could visit you? You wouldn’t even have to travel.

Dean: Maybe, how about we talk about it after you finish working?

Y/N: Okay, talk to you at 6?

Dean: Talk to you then, have a good day baby

(Y/N) tried to continue their day like they weren’t nervous, however, they were unable to keep the act up long. Their hands shook with nerves, he was probably gonna say no most likely.

Although they were doing something they love, time seems to barely move. The hours were dragging and it was hard to focus due to the nerves. They tried their best to focus as to prevent any mistakes, they wanted the owner of the small bakery to like them. The owner was an older woman, who was like a grandmother to everyone in the store.

Soon the clock struck 5, it was time for them to clean up and go home. They would clean up the mess they made while cooking, and clock out at 5:30. Then walk home and hopefully be home by 6. The path wasn’t long, they just usually go distracted by random stuff on their walk home, at one point they had sat on a bench on the walk home to gawk at a rather hairy man, as they believed he may be a werewolf.

Y/N: Heading home now! Talk to you soon.

Dean smiled at his phone as he cooked bacon to go on top of the burger he was making. He had a day full of contemplation and planning and recontemplation. Should he stay or should he go?

Dean: Good, now be safe on your way home.

The walk home was short, with very few distractions. How could they be distracted at a time like this? They were in a hurry. They arrived back at their beat-up small apartment quickly, only stopping to unlock the door and grab the large box on their doorstep. Usually having a box at their doorstep would bring them extreme excitement, however now they had to call Dean.

Ringggg… Ringggg… Ring….

Dean was quick to answer, nearly ripping his pocket off his jacket. It was playing the special tone that he set for (Y/N), as he didn’t want to answer the phone all grumpy like he did the first time they called. Meaning they got home and wanted to talk to him.

“Hey Buba,” Dean answered, making weird wobbles in his voice. He knew he did a good job when a giggle floated through the phone.

“Hi.” It was shorter than their usual enthusiastic greeting, which cause some concern to bubble in Dean’s stomach. “I got a big box at my door, it was hard to carry.”

“Wish I could have helped you with that, why don’t you open it where the arrow is pointing? Maybe there is a surprise in there for you.” Dean smiled at the thought of them still in their work clothes, about to be small and bouncing.

“Arrow?” There was a pause, “You sent me this?”

“I did.” Dean answered, knowing he was about to have to reassure big (Y/N) that it wasn’t a big deal, “ before you start saying anything about this, it was nothing. I wanted to get you a gift, don’t try being all ‘oh you shouldn’t have.’. I did it, and I will do it again.”

“I-” They paused, “Thank you, I’ll get my box cutter and open it.”

He smiled as he heard them beginning to rustle to find the box cutter. They seemed excited or nervous to see what was in the box.

“Gonna be careful right?” Dean asked once they made a sound that he would consider success.

“Ye, no touching the pointy parts.” They respond obviously absorbed in the thought of a gift, that they were aware was most likely for little (Y/N).

“I wish I could see your face when you open the gifts.” He smiled, as he hears the light slicing of tape, and them struggling with the box to open the edge that wasn’t cut completely. “You gonna read the note first?”

“Ye,” They spoke, beginning the note with a loud and proud voice, but slowly going quieter and mumbling as they began regressing. They were always shy about how hard reading could be when they were small.

“Open the gifts now baby.” Dean prompts, as they finished the card. The sound of the newspaper being removed from the box was louder than he thought it would be.

“You got me a paci?” They sounded choked up as they stared at the design. The design was Siren-like, and it had the words “little monster” on the handle.

“Yeah, do you like it? Should be a few other things in there too…” Dean asked hopefully.

“Yeah, didn’t need to do all this…” (Y/N) mumbled over the phone.

“But I wanted to, how about you try on the gifts and we can maybe have a talk?” He wanted to talk about the possibility of him visiting them.

The atmosphere in (Y/N)’s apartment deflated quickly at the mention of the dreaded conversation was brought up. They had believed for a moment that everything was perfect between the pair. However, he was preparing them for his big no.

“Oh yeah, umm we can talk, yeah.” Their voice was less childlike and more anxious.

“Baby, it is okay, this talk isn’t gonna be bad.” Dean replied quickly, trying to calm the obviously stressing little.

“Okay, can we talk about it now?” They said, just wanting it to be over.

“Of course baby,” Dean says as he opens his computer that he was looking at routes on, “what does your schedule look like for the next few weeks?”

“Mmm Nothing only working,” They replied, picking their thumbs.

“Okay, how would you feel if I left tomorrow and got to see you in about 2 days?” Dean asked.

“Wait.” They paused almost processing what was being said. “What?”

“Obviously it could be sooner or later depending on traffic, would it be okay if I slept at your place? It would be like a little sleepover.” Dean continued knowing they would register what he was saying soon enough.

“YES YES YES YES!!!” They screamed, only to stop, “Sorry, didn’t mean to yell. Thought you were gonna say no.

With that conversation completed, (Y/N) was quick to regress and babble about all the stuff they would do together. Dean was packing as they spoke as he would have an early morning. It was all simple and little (Y/N) even started cleaning, it wasn’t much just putting some of their toys away. They stayed on the phone until (Y/N) fell asleep.

The next morning came quickly, Dean was already on the road by the time the sun was up. It was unheard of for him to be awake even a few hours after the sun is up, but today was different. He wasn’t being the safest going quite a bit over the speed limit, but he just couldn’t help it. He would text sweetheart at stops, when he filled up for gas, took a bathroom break, or was getting snacks/souvenirs from each state he went through. Both days were like this although the second contained more bouncing in his seat and fewer stops.

(Y/N) spent the two days working and stress cleaning. They swept and mopped their floors three times, and dusted them twelve times. While at work they asked for the first day Dean would be there off and the owner hearing how excited they were, gave them a week of paid time off. The owner stated something about only being young once and young love, (Y/N) was too excited to correct her. They were only friends, for now at least.

The day had come when Dean would arrive, he called saying he’d arrive around 1 pm. That means they woke up at 5 am to clean everything twelve times again, and run to the store to get actual food and ingredients, so as to not force Dean to eat fast food and microwave meals.

With their grocery bags on the counter, half of the food was already put away when there was a knock at the door. I wasn’t even 12 pm, the first thing that passed their mind was that there was no way that it was Dean already. But their feet moved on their own, and the door swung open before they though to check who it was. There a man stood, he was tall with slightly spiked hair, he had a ‘Joey’ from friend’s smile.

“Sweetheart?” Their voice died in their throat, eyes began to water slightly as they stared at the man that was acting as their platonic caregiver and honestly best friend. Rather than speaking, (Y/N) threw themself into his chest sobbing out of join.

“Dean… “ was all that managed to excape them, as they clung to him. He clung back seeing the person he came to life made him cry in joy. If anyone asked he would say it was simply allergies.

They sat in the hall and hugged for longer than any two friends should. Neighbors stopped to stare as they walked passed, but Dean and (Y/N) only saw each other.

#dean winchester x little!reader #dean winchester x reader #age regression community #age regression fic #agere community #sfw age regression #age regression reader #agere fic #sfw agere #cg! dean winchester #x little! reader #agere little #little!reader #little reader

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smokeyfuzz · 2 years

Text

Make Me

note: story takes place where Jujutsu Tech is a university and all students are 18+. reader is early 20s, gojo is late twenties/early thirties. he is a professor at the university and the age gap is close to 10 years.

Warnings: age-gap, toxic relationships (toxic ex, slightly toxic satoru), eludes to power imbalance dynamic, SMUT, oral (f), unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), some violence, maybe I’m missing something else - I don’t know

Y/N leaned against the wall of the indoor training space, watching as Yuji Itadori and Nobara Kugisaki squared off. It was an amusing match, watching the two clearly annoy one another. Next to you stood Megumi Fushiguro, who unlike you seemed less interested in the series of events unfolding before him.

Your eyes trailed past the two training students, and in the distance you see Satoru Gojo watching his students beneath a pair of dark-rimmed glasses, studying their movements and tactics as he silently critiqued their methods. You took a hard swallow, the fight before you becoming a thing of the past as you took in his tall, lean form.

He had chosen to forgo his usual school uniform - instead wearing a long sweater that hung loosely around his shoulders, exposing his muscular trapezius and collarbone, his legs decked out in a pair of slacks and sneakers. Having grown so used to seeing him in his school uniform - the sight before you was unfamiliar, his hair hanging loose and unkept.

You were staring too long - you knew it, captivated by his good looks. Good looks he knew he had too, ever so cocky and prideful when it came to his appearance or power or status because who was society to tell him otherwise? You forced yourself to look away when you felt yourself begin to flush further - inappropriate thoughts slipping into your mind. He was your teacher. You had started Jujutsu Tech, a college for sorcerers recently. You were a year older than your peers, who were either 19 or 20.

You let out a frustrated sigh to yourself. In truth, during your time at Jujutsu Tech Gojo had been relatively good with you all as students. He treated you all less like his students and more like colleagues, trusting you all with missions or learning things on your own. It was like he didn’t see the point in treating you any other way when the world you already operated in was so dangerous. It was like the knowledge of the danger also made him not care that he could spend days hanging out with his students, going shopping or out to eat, or in the case of Megumi - antagonizing the holy hell out of him. He even was there for you when your boyfriend broke up with you, leaving you for a girl he had cheated on you with named Mikasa. Him and Yuji basically broke your door down, ice-cream and movies in arms, ready to console you while Nobara stormed in, threatening to kick the guy’s ass who had broken your heart. When nearly a week passed of your mood being sour, he had been the first person to make you laugh and smile after your heartache.

It was unfortunately in that moment that you began to see him differently, something in your heart stirring and thumping more wildly as time went on when you were in his presence.

Suddenly, Kugisaki landed with a thud near your feet as she let out a painful huff and you blinked, your mind drawing away from your thoughts as you noticed the girl crumpled at your feet. You watched her move to get up, but Gojo stepped in, interrupting the training as Kiyotaka Ijichi entered the room.

You watched him speak to the faculty member before stepping away and turning to his students. Throwing on a smirk, he placed his hands on his hips dramatically as he announced you all would be joining him on a mission. As his gaze flickered around the room, watching his students' reactions, you couldn’t help but feel them stop and settle on you.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you noticed the corners of his lips pulling further, and you could’ve sworn it changed to one of a more mischievous nature. It had you blushing furiously as you looked away, still feeling his eyes burning on you.

"Oh yeah!" Itadori cheered, fist pumping the air.

"I wonder where we're going? What stores are there?" Kugisaki questioned, momentarily forgetting about just losing to her friend.

"Finally," Fushiguro said, although his voice displayed no actual enthusiasm.

* * * * *

You found yourself and your friends arriving at a small village in Japan where you had to exorcize a curse. Gojo had long abandoned you all - his usual style - in search of or to-do God knows what.

When you had arrived at the curse site you all believed it was going to be easy. You couldn’t have been more wrong.

What you all had believed going in was going to be a relatively simple task turned out to be a much worse and tedious endeavor, with you all facing off against a special-grade and many annoying lower-level curses that had been drawn to the chaos.

You all held your own for a while, but one by one you began to break under the pressure. When you went to combat against the special grade, you were instead hit hard and sent you flying through the air. You ended up colliding into the lap of Itadori and knocked the wind from both your lungs.

You both struggled to get up, Itadori refraining from using Sukuna even in his own sorry state of blood and bruises - as per request from Gojo as by now he had already consumed quite a few fingers and the vengeful spirit's power only grew - and yourself a heaving mess, where at some point you were pretty sure you ended up with a concussion, blood streaming down your face and deep gash along your right side.

You looked to your other friends - Fushiguro was using the Max Elephant, but even when he managed to get a hit on the curse, he was matched with an equal-level hit. Kugisaki was also a mess like yourself, fighting alongside Fushiguro's Divine Dog: Totality where she was surrounded by lower-grade curses.

"This isn't working!" Itadori yelled out, annoyed with his fists balled at his side, slightly taking on a blue hue as he gathered curse energy.

You heard Kugisaki dispel the lower-grade curses behind you, making her way towards yourself and the others, joining your ranks.

"We need to get out of here," you said, although you had a feeling that was not what Itadori had in mind. "Get help. If one of us can, then maybe -"

Before you could finish your sentence you were all hit with another blast of cursed energy sending you each flying. You landed with a thud in the distance, your vision blurring as it grew darker by the minute. You managed to see Kugisaki running towards you worriedly, the figure of an unmistakable man appearing behind the special-grade curse, a cocky smile on his face and hand on his hip.

"Gojo...?" you murmured before passing out.

* * * * *

When you finally woke up it was not in the bedroom you had rented with you and your friends for this mission.

You were also sore. God were you sore. You sat up slowly, wincing at the pain you felt in your head and all over. However, when you reached up to feel for the source of the blood from earlier you found no open wounds - simply a small scar near your hairline. You noticed your clothing had changed as well - now appearing to be in an oversize shirt. When you shifted you felt a sting on your side, and remembering the gash from earlier, you lifted the shirt slightly to see a scar along that as well before letting it fall back to your thighs. Evidently someone had used a reverse curse cure on you.

Now that you knew you were relatively okay, you surveyed the room you were in, realizing it looked like your rented space but had some differences. For instance, the queen size bed you laid on was one, the jacket thrown over a chair another, and the table in the corner that was home to what looked like shopping bags.

You knew it wasn't Kugisaki's room, you guys were sharing a space just like Itadori and Fushiguro were. That left only one person...

"Gojo!" you said, startled as the bathroom door opened and he emerged, dressed in his school uniform from the waist down but his top half in nothing more than a loose fitting dark long sleeved shirt, sleeves rolled up. His hair was down and damp, sunglasses replacing his usual blindfold. He must’ve just finished showering, you thought.

"You're up," he noted, crossing his arms with what looked to be a small smile.

You were still processing being in his room. This had to be inappropriate, right? Not like you exactly minded, but still...

"I'm in... where are... what happened?" you could barely form a sentence, a million questions flooding your brain. Were the others okay? Why were you in his room? What about the curses?

He let out a light laugh, crossing the space to look out the window that oversaw the village in the distance, hands in his pockets. You couldn’t help but notice that despite his cheerful attitude, he sounded a bit… off. Like he was forcing playfulness instead of conveying his true thoughts: concern. You blinked, confusion registering across your features as you tried to discern if those feelings had been for you when you finally realized he had been talking, his back to you as he took in the scenery before him.

"...The others are fine. I told them to go out, let you rest - I'd keep an eye on you in the meantime." He turned around at the last part and you felt your cheeks flush at the statement. There was no way he didn't know you had a huge crush on him. Goddamnit, you thought.

Rather than risk further embarrassment, you decided it was probably best you try to get out while you can, before you did something totally stupid. Like admitting your feelings to someone clearly out of your league in every sense.

As you slipped yourself out of his bed, you found yourself suddenly losing your balance, light-headness crashing into you and making the room spin. Gojo was on you in seconds, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you towards him to lean on him for support. You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the feeling in your head, hands gripping his biceps.

You didn't realize what had happened until a minute later when you blinked, taking in a hard breath at the proximity of his body flush against yours, his intoxicating scent making you dizzy again but for completely different reasons.

He didn't say anything for a minute either. Instead you could feel his fingers slightly digging harder into the sides of your hips; you had a feeling they were going to leave bruises at this rate. Suddenly the air in the room felt heavier, smaller even. As if he could sense it too, you heard him clear his throat, his hold not squeezing you as tightly but still remaining.

“You really shouldn’t be moving… or standing right now.” The seriousness in his voice surprised you as you forced yourself to look up at his eyes, but it was hard to discern whatever they were conveying with his sunglasses shielding his vision.

You gulped, pulling slightly in his grasp as you remembered your change in outfit. “I’m fine…” Then: “Gojo, where are my clothes?”

He was ushering you back onto the bed, and despite your momentary resistance, you fell back onto the sheets, legs hanging exposed over the side. Your hands slipped away from one another and you found yourself craving his touch.

“We had to get them off of you, there was a lot of blood.” Your heart raced at the thought and then you realized the shirt you were wearing must be his - as it felt too large to be Megumi or Yuji’s.

“Oh.” You said softly.

He kneeled in front of you, surprised by the action as he surveyed your features. “How do you feel?”

You tried to calm your nerves, your fast racing heart, but found it increasingly difficult, especially when he reached out and gripped your chin softly, tilting your head to inspect what you surmised to be his handiwork.

“Y-you did fine,” you praised and he nodded, but he seemed to not believe you. You let out a small huff and, before you could stop yourself, grabbed the hand holding your chin by the wrist, your hand sliding up so your thumb pressed into his palm. The intimacy of the act seemed to not be lost on either of you, yet still you pressed on.

“I’m fine, Gojo, really.” You weren’t sure if you were convincing him or yourself at this point, because although your battle wounds had healed, at this moment you did not feel fine. You were happy to be in his presence, but you were both adults and neither of you were dumb enough to not realize how this situation looked, how the room felt between you two, how bad it could be for him.

And yet you both remained where you were - you grasping his hand, your chest lightly rising in bated breath, and him in front of your bare legs. You tried to suppress the thoughts gnawing at the back of your head - lean in, kiss him, hold him, touch him - but you felt paralyzed, consumed by them, by him. You can’t do this - this is wrong. Maybe in another year, when he isn’t your literal teacher. You bite your lip and don’t miss the way his Adam-apple bobs at your action. Maybe your crush wasn’t quite a one-way street, a memory flashing into your mind as you began to rethink the moments within it:

Your hands were placed on your hips, a smirk on your face as you tried to hide your slight annoyance by him. He wasn’t really making you mad - not really as your heart raced from the way he smiled down at you.

“Gooojooo,” you whined, watching as he only laughed lightly at the exaggerated reference of his name. “Give me back my phone.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. You seem a lot more interested in it then the work,” he replied, jumping back as you tried to swipe it from his tall grasp once more, but instead falling (unsurprisingly) short to his tall frame and reach. “I mean, what could possibly be more important than this.” He references the environment around him and then himself.

You roll your eyes, suppressing a laugh. “I’m expecting a call.”

“From who?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you smirked. When he continued to hold your phone away, you gave in and finally said: “It’s just some guy...”

You didn’t know it, but you miss the way he bristles from your words. He knew it was wrong - you were his student, only just turning twenty, but he found you captivating. It didn’t help that despite your status, you were in more ways than one treated as a colleague to not only himself, but other members of staff. Worse still, this made him react in ways he didn’t always intend.

“Some guy? Doesn’t even have a name?” he’s interrogating you now, but you miss the way he seems jealous, managing to make it pass as curiosity.

It had only been a few months since you and what’s-his-name had broken up. He had been a real piece of work and Gojo absolutely hated him, hated how he hurt you. He (and the others) were the ones that were there to pick up the pieces, but even then the damage had already been done. Surprisingly, you leaned on him a lot those few weeks - and he let you. Things had gotten exponentially complicated for him in that time span - and so the days he wasn’t with you or the others, he was spending it killing curses or trying to forget you when talking to some woman at a bar, just to try to forget the feelings.

You make a grab for the phone again and he’s so lost in his own thoughts that he misses the action. Unfortunately, his own delayed reaction has you trapped as he grabs your waist and you lose your balance, both you falling onto the ground. You fell onto his chest and you blushed from the proximity before quickly rolling off him as you sat up. He seemed to be momentarily distracted by the action too and you took it as your moment to grab the phone from his hands, your fingers lightly grazing against one another.

He chooses not to mention the intimate act, although his body reacts in a way that tells him to do otherwise, and leans up on his elbows. “Really, who is this guy?”

You shrug, not wanting to admit it was your ex. He truly was toxic, having late been trying to get back into your good graces. While you had started to get over him - you were only human, having shared a few years of your life with him.

Your phone pings and Gojo doesn’t miss the name that appears on the screen. He lets out a frustrated sigh and you give him a guilty look. “Y/n,” he tuts.

“It’s…complicated.”

“There’s nothing complicated about it, he’s a dick and he hurt you. He doesn’t deserve you,” Gojo says the words so quickly that he hopes it doesn’t betray the feelings behind them, praying he’s coming off more concerned and less jealous and possessive.

Next thing you know he’s grabbing your phone again, asking you to unlock and refusing to answer why until you finally give in. He types a quick message to your ex and then throws it towards you after sending it.

“Gojo!”

You read the message he sent, shocked by the action. It was a simple message: I’m seeing someone else. Lose my number.

You look up at him and he shrugs, seemingly unbothered (although that couldn’t be further from truth), blushing from the boldness, from the lie you were no longer single. Meanwhile, he’s trying not to let his energy come out in waves at the thought you and your ex were texting one another, the potential of reconnecting. He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure.

He stands and extends his hand to you, pulling you up as he says: “Come on, you have training soon.”

You blinked as the memory filled your brain, your being. Had he been jealous? You notice the way his fingers begin to lightly brush against your own hand, careful and soft. As if testing the boundaries himself, both of you lost in that very moment. You felt yourself start to lean forward, also blurring the lines. Your lips so close to his that you could feel his breath when -

“YUJI ITADORI!”

It was only when you heard the sound of Nobara yelling obscenities in the hallway at Yuji that you were both pulled back into reality. Your hands fell away from one another and you leaned back as he stood, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“You should get back to your room,” he said, moving away from you. You couldn’t help the pit that formed in your stomach at how cold he sounded, detached as if you hadn’t just been holding one another. “I’ll be gone the rest of the day - just drop off the shirt when you’ve changed.”

You opened your mouth about to argue, but found no words as you shakily stood. This time, he didn’t move towards you and you managed to regain your balance on your own, feeling a bit of yourself die on the inside as he kept his gaze away from you.

“If you start to feel weird, let Ijichi know. He’ll be taking you all back to the school tomorrow anyways.”

You gave a meek nod, before moving past him, hand stopping on the handle of his room as you looked back before slipping back out and across the hall to your own room.

* * * * *

Three weeks had passed since the incident in Japan and you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You tried to push the thoughts away, burying yourself in work as Nobara watched on curiously. When you had returned to your hotel room that night, she found you upset but you refused to talk about it, having long changed your outfit and left Gojo’s shirt in his empty room. So instead she let you be, told the boys it was a girls night, and tried to distract you. Since then you had only told her you were still recovering and just felt under the weather and she seemed to choose to believe you rather than press further.

It also didn’t help that during this week, your ex texted you again - out of the blue - after months of no contact. He sent you kind words, sounding genuine and interested and you couldn’t help but find solace in the moment after weeks of Gojo avoiding you as best he could. At least before the night in that hotel, Gojo treated you as a friend - now you felt like a nobody.

So here you were sitting in a bar you had long forgotten the name too, a cocktail in front of you and legs crossed, the black dress you had thrown on sitting high on your mid-thighs. Next to you? You ex, whose hand had found purchase on your knee as he kept murmuring how great you looked, how much he missed you, wondering how you had been, and how much of an idiot he was for leaving you. You blushed from the compliments, already a bit intoxicated from what had to be your second or third cocktail - a mix of a number of different boozes and something sweet that had you going back for more rather than (smartly) pace yourself.

“Admit it, you’ve missed me,” he murmured, hand slightly rising up your knee and resting near the hem of your dress as he gave a gentle squeeze. “I’ve missed you,” he purred as he leaned into you.

“I-” before you could finish your sentence you felt a familiar presence fall into your orbit. You didn’t need to look over your shoulder to know who it was.

“Naoya,” he greeted your ex, sounding clearly annoyed as he leaned against the counter behind you. Close enough you could smell his cologne, feel his arm find purchase behind the back of your barstool as his touch briefly grazed your back. He never liked Naoya - granted, many of your friends didn’t either. Again, he was a mistake you unfortunately had the habit of coming back to when you were at your worst.

“Y/n, surprised to see you here.” You didn’t miss the way his smile seems somewhat forced, momentarily taken aback by the fact he was not wearing sunglasses or his usual wrap.

As if he hadn’t been actively avoiding me the last few weeks, you think to yourself bitterly. The alcohol is starting to mingle with your senses to make you care less than usual. You let out a scoff that Naoya seems to miss, but Gojo picks up on. He chooses to ignore it - for now.

“Gojo,” Naoya says cooly, having a shared hatred for the man behind you and clear annoyance because he was quite apparently cock-blocking him.

The bartender approaches the three of you and Gojo places an order - and you're surprised to see him also ordering alcohol, something you knew he hated. He turns back to you both, eyes on Naoya as he asks his next question, although it sounds like a statement and is obviously directed at you.

“So you guys are dating again.”

Naoya smirks and shrugs, not granting an answer to him and you sip at your drink quietly, avoiding the gaze of both men as you feel him give another gentle squeeze to your thigh. Gojo doesn’t miss any of it, his jaw ticking at the action before the bartender interrupts you all once more with Gojo’s drink. Your eyes flicker to him briefly, watching as he takes a drink of the hard liquor. You look away when he catches your gaze and he sets the glass down, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You don’t know what overcomes you in that moment, maybe it was annoyance you felt from him recently as he had been so actively out of his life that he felt he could push his way back in, but you place your hand over Naoya’s, gently running your fingers over his a somewhat suggestive manner as you take another sip.

“I’ve missed him,” you say, but you're not looking at Naoya and you know it’s lie, instead watching Gojo with a piercing look as you remembered the moment with the phone, deciding to test the waters.

Naoya is smirking behind you, not quite picking up on the subtleties between you and Gojo - not aware of the fact the two of you were in some weird lovers quarrel when you weren’t even together in the first place. Gojo matches your gaze with his own, but you don’t realize the coldness behind the gaze, the way you seemed to strike something in him that left him restless and angry.

“How’s Mikasa?” Gojo asks suddenly, looking over your shoulder to Naoya.

You feel yourself tense at the name as Naoya’s hand slips from your thigh. You can’t help but feel the emotions that flood you at the mention of her name - no less coming from Gojo, the man who had helped you get over the heartache in the first place. He said it so casually, so cruelly, knowing it would hurt you.

“We broke up,” Naoya says plainly, obviously irritated.

“Didn’t cheat on her too?” Gojo asks after another sip of his booze.

Naoya bristles at the words and you can’t take anymore of it. You slip out of the barstool, grabbing your purse.

“I need to use the restroom,” you say softly, brushing past them both before either can stop you.

Rather than using the restroom, you slip out the backdoor and into the alleyway, the cool night air hitting you as you take in a shaky breath. It helps in sobering you up as you feel the tears pricking at your eyes, threatening to spill over as you quickly wipe them away. Fuck Gojo, you thought bitterly. You begin to walk home and it doesn’t take long for the familiar steps of your teacher to be close behind you, calling your name.

You choose to ignore him until finally he catches up to you, hand grabbing your wrist to stop you. You pulled your arm away from him, recoiling from touch as if it physically hurt you. He didn’t miss the action, momentarily hurt as he took in your appearance - eyes red where they threatened to spill over with tears - before he masked his emotions.

“I took it too far,” he noted, hands shoving into his pockets. “I’m sorry.”

You looked away from him, too upset to meet his gaze, afraid you would concede to his apologies. A part of you knew you shouldn’t have entertained the idea of your ex, and low-and-behold, life was sure to remind you of the fact.

“Just leave me alone, Gojo,” you sighed. “You’ve been doing a stellar job so far.”

You turned away from him, making your way back to the school. He instead followed close behind you.

“You can do better than him. He cheated -”

You whirled on him then and he stopped, nearly colliding into your smaller frame. “Yeah, I know. Mikasa, right? I wonder how she is.” You mock, anger and pain coursing through you as the events of the previous weeks and tonight coursed through you. You didn’t even fight the tears that spilled over your cheeks.

“Y/n,” he began.

“We aren’t friends Gojo, we aren’t dating. We aren’t anything. You’ve made that painfully obvious the last few weeks. You're my professor.” You don’t mean to let the dating-word slip, but it does and at this point, you're too hurt to care. Fuck if he knew you liked him, because it was painfully obvious he didn’t know what he wanted. “So, Seriously Gojo - just leave me the fuck alone right now,” you snapped and whirled around, leaving him behind you.

* * * * *

You laid on the mattress of the hotel room you had rented, alone on your own solo mission while the others were busy on a mission together. It had been a week since the events of the bar and Gojo apparently seemed to be taking your words to heart, leaving you alone.

Your friends’ didn’t miss the awkwardness either - the way Gojo and yourself had been barely interacting with one another for the better part of a grand total of four weeks now - since this whole mess had started.

You had swooped up this mission as soon as you heard word from Yaga about it, and after some consideration, he allowed you to go out on your own. Ijichi was with you too of course, but he was too busy with his own work to bother you. You didn’t mind him, truthfully, you actually found him somewhat endearing. But the last few days have left you emotionally exhausted and craving solitude. Besides, you had just spent the better portion of the day finding out all that you could about this curse - including sympathetically listening to others tell you the horrors of the location you suspected the curse to be. You were drained.

A knock on your door stirred you from your thoughts and you sat up, clad in a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized sweater that once belonged to Megumi (you stole it), having immeditality changed when you got back. Documents were strewn along the small dining area where you had earlier been taking notes, trying to better access the curse. When you opened the door you couldn’t help the way your heart did somersaults.

“Gojo, what are you doing here?” you asked, surprised to see your teacher. He was dressed in more professional look, white button down with rolled sleeves, dress pants and shoes and a small bag in his hand.

“I brought a peace-offering,” he gestured toward the bag. “Can I come in?”

You hesitated for a moment before stepping aside, letting him into the room as you shut the door behind you. You leaned against, watching him survey the space, your fingers toying at the fringe on the end of the sweater’s sleeves.

He turned back to you, holding the gift out. You grabbed it from him wordlessly, peering inside to see a small box. You pulled it out, opening it to see inside a simple silver necklace adorned with a simple letter in an aquamarine gemstone: G.

You looked up at him incredulously.

“You deserve better,” he stated simply, hands in his pockets.

You watched him quietly, momentarily shocked into silence until finally you found your voice. “Gojo…” you warned and cleared your throat. This man had sent you on a whirlwind as of late - no way did he think he could simply barge in here and buy his way into your good graces. To essentially admit his feelings this way.

“And that’s you?” you finally asked, picking up the jewel for a moment before closing the lid of the box and setting the gift down onto the dining room table. You deserved an Academy award for the performance you were giving - containing your range of emotions, keeping a level-head.

He moved towards you slowly and you felt yourself shift in his presence, heart racing. “Gojo…” you warned again.

“Forgive me,” he pleaded, stopping in front of you, too close for it to be appropriate. His hands slipped from his pants pockets, one suddenly cupping your cheek, stroking it gently and you couldn’t help but lean into the touch. “Forgive me,” said again, this time untying his wrap and letting you see his azure eyes, hair falling wildly in front of them.

“I hate you,” you said softly. You didn’t actually mean it and he knew it, but the words still hurt him just a little - especially when you were the last person he wanted hating him. Your eyes grow glassy, but no tears fall as you let out a nearly inaudible shaky breath. “I should hate you.”

“Forgive me.” His voice is more hushed now, and you notice the pleading tone it takes. His eyes are soft, vulnerable. You realize then that perhaps you weren’t the only one suffering these past weeks.

You can’t help the way your heart flutters, the way you remember the time he has made you laugh, has helped you. For some reason, it triumphs through the heartache, the rejection you had felt from him, because you were never really his in the first place.

“I forgive you,” you say - and you mean it. It’s done softly, as if to remind him you can only handle so much more before you break and he seemed to understand.

His hands fall away from you and you try to ignore the closeness of his frame to your own, afraid of further rejection of him if you were to instigate anything. He features seem to relax from your words, taking on an unreadable look as he watches you.

“The necklace is beautiful,” you note, glancing over to it in an effort to change the subject, to escape his gaze. You weren’t dumb when you read the letter G - you knew it was Gojo’s way of showing you were his - you guessed specifically to Naoya. It felt more like a gift for him than yourself, but it was pretty regardless and you felt yourself turn shy at the thought he was only confirming your suspicions.

Your risk meeting his gaze once more, a small smirk pulling at his lips with the knowledge you like his gift.

“I’ve got good taste,” he teases and you have a feeling he isn’t just talking about the necklace with the way he takes you in.

You give a small smile, remembering earlier as you play with your hands.

“You didn’t answer my question from earlier,” you noted, maneuvering your way around him as you moved towards your bed, his eyes following you.

His eyebrows raise and you repeat yourself. “You said I deserve better… does that mean you?”

You blush under his gaze as he reads you. He realizes now, if he were to openly say it - admit to a year’s worth of suppressed feelings for you - he would be finally passing that line he had been trying so hard to avoid. But as he watched you now, the way your skin flushed under his gaze, your exposed legs, the small smile playing at your lips, he felt all voices of reason leaving his mind. And he knew he’d be lying if he said the only reason he showed up at your hotel door was for salvaging your relationship when in truth it was more. It was accepting his feelings of you. You consumed him, in his dreams, in his thoughts. He couldn’t escape you and he finally realized, accepted that he didn’t want to.

He moved towards you slowly and you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze, until finally he stopped in front of you, hand finding purchase on your hip, right near your scar. Your breath stopped as you felt him rub circles along the material of the sweater, always just a few centimeters away from the imperfect flesh.

“What if did?” It’s suppose to be a statement, but his tone is suggestive and curious to your reaction. He watches as you flush below him, seemingly trying to regain control of your thoughts but failing.

You gulped, not sure what to say. You didn’t anticipate his answer.

“Y’know it's rude to stare,” he joked and he’s hoping you don’t notice his nerves, that you won’t reject him like he rejected you before. The way his adams-apple nervously shifts as he waits for your response despite his teasing smirk and mischievous glint to his eyes that suggests complete confidence (when in fact, he did not feel 100% confident).

You blush further at the statement and open your mouth to say something, but find yourself at a loss for words.

Somehow you find your voice, looking away shyly. "Shut up," is all you muster to say, and you know how lame it sounds compared to his charming and teasing personality. He lets out a small, relieved laugh and you move to hide your face in his chest, an action that surprised you from the ease of which you did it and that left him momentarily pleasantly shocked as well. His other hand found purchase on your waist and you placed your hands on his biceps as you pulled away.

You were watching both your feet, too shy to meet his gaze as your hands traveled down his forearms carefully, knowing you should let go. It was one thing to admit your feelings, it was another for either of you to act on them.

You didn't realize the moments of silence that had passed. He seemed to be momentarily taken aback by your words, eyebrows raised and an amused smirk on his face. But then you felt another shift in the atmosphere, until finally he said after a moment of silence, of him thinking to himself: "Make me."

Your eyes snapped up to his, your mouth hanging slightly open in surprise of his words. His tone was all kinds of serious and dangerously seductive, his voice going slightly deeper.

"Gojo..." you said surprised, but your voice came out as a squeak more than anything and you feel yourself drawing slightly closer. Was this really happening? Do not act like a lovesick idiot... do not act-

"I said make me," he said again, stepping forward to aid in bridging the space that had grown between you. You can feel his breath on your face, his lips so close. His breath smelled both sweet and minty and you briefly wondered what snack he had found himself eating before you woke up.

You stare at his lips, your cheeks burning and heart pounding with desire. You feel dizzy again. All logical reasoning is quickly leaving your mind and you know you are in danger of doing something ridiculously stupid.

"We shouldn't..." you find yourself murmuring, and you know despite what you're saying, you don't actually want this to end.

He knows what you're saying is true, it’s the rational thing but he's smirking again and his tall frame is leaning down into you until you can almost feel his lips grazing your own. "So. stop. me," he teases, enunciating every word with a methodical and slow purpose, voice even more husky with want.

You feel as his lips brush against your own lightly, along your burning cheekbone and finally near your ear. “And call me Satoru.”

You shudder from his touch, goosebumps forming alongside your skin. You can’t help the mewl that passes your lips, “‘Turo.”

The nickname you say has him shifting uncomfortably, his pants growing tighter at the sound of his first name gracing your lips.

Although he’s already broken so many moral codes as your professor, he needs to hear you admit your own feelings, your own want - no, need - for this moment. He needs your permission before he takes this any further. He needs to know you're okay with this.

You swallow, your mouth dry, breathing heavily from the possibility of this moment. From him. You watch as you slowly drag your own hands down his forearms, nails lightly scratching him - not enough to leave marks, but feel almost ticklish. Your body felt like it was five steps ahead of your own mind, but all actions and thoughts seemed to be heading in the same direction regardless.

You hear him groan, both of your bodies shuddering under your touch until finally you place your hands over his own that are on your waist. His hands are huge, fingers are long and slender. Your hands are small in comparison, and you find yourself suddenly self-conscious. By now he has pulled away to be looking back at you and you can feel his gaze on you once more.

You slowly look up at him, and you notice his expression is less playful and teasing; now more soft and serious. You simply watch him for a minute, gathering up your courage to finally just give in. To allow yourself some happiness in what has been an otherwise chaotic and heartbreaking year. Naoya had destroyed you, Satoru had hurt you, and work was hell. What made your relationship with Naoya even more difficult though, and what made Satoru’s statement from a week ago hurt worse, was the fact he knew Naoya was your first. First love. First partner. First everything. And Gojo had been the light in an otherwise bleak feeling, despite him being your professor. The thing was, Gojo never felt like that. Not for a single moment. He always felt like a friend, and sometimes your hero. You admired him, respected him, wanted him. Damn the consequences if there were to be any.

"I know what I want," you say, voice barely above a whisper. Despite being soft-spoken, your confidence shines through. "I want this. I want you."

That was all he needed to hear. Within seconds Gojo has your waist pulled tightly to his, arms snaking around your and hands resting on your lower back. Your own arms coil around his neck, hands lifting to run through his hair. He moans into your mouth as you slightly tug and his own hands slip further down your back before resting on your ass. The kiss is passionate, his lips soft and molding into your own. It was at this moment you realized the mint you smelled earlier was actually his lips and the sweetness simply his breath. You groaned.

"You are so beautiful, Y/N," he says, his lips leaving your own. You let out an impatient moan and he smirks against your jaw, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses until he reaches your neck.

"Patience. You don't want me to punish you, do you?" he smiles into a kiss. You can barely mumble out a no, but even then you feel like his punishment could not possibly be a bad thing.

You moan, tugging his hair to bring his lips back to your own. He lets out a light laugh, ignoring his own previous statement to enjoy your own lips on his once more.

You can feel your whole body becoming flustered at the series of events, only imagining Gojo's own need when it is all but confirmed when he slightly switches his posture while he kisses you, feeling the tent growing in his pants against your lower stomach. He moans at the shift, but you can tell he is still hesitating, not sure on whether to take it further, to go to the extent that he wants to. You smile into your kiss. It was strange to think Gojo may have a more softer, sensitive side like this and even then you weren't sure how long this would last as things continued. After all, Gojo's usually cocky nature felt like it may carry into the bedroom, especially after everything that had just happened in a matter of a few minutes. Right now though, him giving you some control seemed to be his main thought process.

You pull away briefly and pause and look into his azure eyes, darkened by his desire for you. For a minute you felt as if you could be perfectly content being lost in those eyes. "I want this," you say again, but this time you start pulling him towards the bed, you falling onto the mattress, fingers laced through his belt. You look up at him, body already forming hickeys along your collarbone and lips red and swollen from your kisses.

The site of you staring up at him like that - so honest and open - he has to resist the urge to rip off both your clothes then and there and fuck you to oblivion, although it was his end goal. He smirks at the thought, and now that he knew what exactly you wanted, he didn't plan on holding back.

He slips out of his shirt, revealing his own muscular body and you bite your lip, legs squeezing together, only adding fuel to the flames of his ego. He was literally perfect, his exposed skin devoid of any imperfections. His pants hung low on his waist and you couldn't help but notice the white happy-trail that traveled down his navel and past those same pants.

He's leaning over you with such dominance now and you can feel your own heat from your core growing as you find yourself flush against the bed, legs hanging over the side. He's on top of you now, face hovering over yours as one hand rests at the hem of your shirt, toying with it as if he was actually contemplating removing it, smirking mischievously. His other arm rests above your head, keeping him supported above you and entrapping you in his large, warm frame, large hand wrapped around your delicate wrists to hold you in place.

He can’t help but suddenly think about the week prior, how he hurt you, how Naoya touched you. The fact you had been talking to one another again. He absolutely hated that fucker and adored you. The idea that those same lips were able to kiss your skin, feel your touch, fuck you. If he could - and he could/should - he would kill Naoya for the hurt he caused you. But that's another time. For now, all he could think about was showing you how much he loved you, how you deserved only the best, and that he was so damn sorry for hurting you.

"You're mine." It's said definitively, without question and an unwavering sense of arrogance.

You find yourself nodding, but that doesn't seem to be enough for him at the moment. He begins leaving a trail of kisses along your face, your jaw, and neck, but actively avoiding your lips as you let out a small whine that was only overshadowed by the moan of pleasure you also felt. His lips felt like whispers against your skin, so teasing, and you find yourself grinding up against him and you can see him try to contain his own sounds of pleasure.

His hand near your shirt slips underneath and you feel his fingertips dancing along your stomach and hip bone. It wasn't enough though.

"Say it."

With a shaky breath, you manage to finally say: "I'm yours."

His lips crash on top of yours and you feel the hand under your shirt traveling upwards, leaving the skin his touched hot and tingling with sensation. Despite the confidence he displays, you can feel his own heartbeat against your chest, racing as quickly as your own.

He nibbles at your lower lip and you let out a throaty groan of pleasure, the hand under your shirt now skimming the outline of your bra until you feel it cup your breast, squeezing roughly.

"Mmmm.... yours," you mumble against his lips again and he lets out his own groan at your proclamation before feeling him pull away, hands slipping from your body. You're about to protest, but stop once you realize he is simply trying to remove your own top. You aid in the endeavor, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him against you. His skin is hot to the touch like your own and you begin trailing kisses down his own jaw, sucking on the skin of his neck and shoulders.

"Fuck," he breathes out, his own head buried in your shoulder. You smirk, knowing that like him, you had left your own marks of territory on his skin. Pulling back to your face, he grabs your chin and pulls your lips to his again, if only briefly before he mimics your moves, leaves love bites along your neck and collarbone before kissing the outline of your exposed breasts in your bra.

You feel yourself buck up against him and he lightly laughs against your skin before a palm rests along your stomach, holding you still. God if kisses did you in like this, you could only imagine how the rest of him would make you unravel.

You watch him descend further down your stomach before finally he is kneeling in front of you, lightly kissing the skin exposed just above the hem of your shorts. You feel his other hand trailing up your leg, antagonizing slow before he leans back, kissing along your ankle, side of your calf muscle, above your knee, and then finally the inside of your thigh. You're breathing heavily, watching his teasing endeavor towards the one spot you need him so desperately.

You involuntarily buck at the sensation, but his hold on you is strong and instead you simply arch your back.

When you look back down, you can feel his azure gaze on you once more, dark and lustrous.

"What do you want me to do?" he asks again, repeating his question from earlier, fingers dancing along the bottom of your bottoms, so close yet so far as it made your skin feel on fire. He doesn't blink, simply taking you all in.

Your body is flushed from the sensations from his lips and hands all over you, chest heaving. You feel shy from his gaze, but you can’t seem to pull away, captivated by him.

"T-touch me," you manage to breathe out. "F-fuck me."

He lets out a satisfied huff and before you can say anything further his hands grab the hem of your shorts and panties, trailing them down your legs and exposing yourself to him. The smile he gaves your cunt is almost predatorial, talking to it rather than you as he takes in your wet center.

“So pretty…”

You flush from the endearment as he kisses the insides of your thighs, a mewl escaping your lips as his nose grazes you before finally he buries himself between your thighs. He has your right leg over his shoulder, using his frame to keep you wide and exposed for him.

You cry out from the contact, but the feeling is further intensified when he begins to feverishly suck on your clit. Your hand immediately finds purchase in his hair, pulling on the white strands as your other bunches the material of the sheets below you. You feel his tongue descend further, pressing into you as he began to fuck you with his tongue, his thumb rubbing at your circle and occasionally pinching it. You can’t help the wanton moans that leave your lips, praying to God that Ijichi doesn’t come stumbling through to hear you moaning your professor’s name.

“Satoru… fuck.”

He switches his tongue out for his fingers, once again sucking on your nub and lips while he pressed the first one, then two fingers into you. You bucked into his hand, and he peaked up at you, watching as your body shook under his ministrations, his cock growing impossibly hard and moaning against your sex.

He felt him tighten around your fingers, causing him to only increase his speed as he angled his fingers to hit that spongy spot he knew you couldn’t reach with your own hands. The room fills with your filthy moans, the wet smack smack smack of his fingers in you, and his own groans from eating you out.

His free hand that is squeezing your left thigh travels up your body and you reach for it with your hand that is grasping the sheets, tangling your digits together. He can tell your getting close when both your hands squeeze tightly on him, pulling his hair more tightly that causes a deep groan to course through him.

"Sator... ple...please," you moan out, "’Toru’.. I ne-" You voice breaks as you let out another moan, as he bites your clit. The sensations were too much. You knew you were going to cum - and soon.

“Go ahead baby,” he praises. “Cum for me.”

You squeeze his hand tighter, feeling yourself unravel around him as you buck into his face, but he doesn’t relent even after you begin crying his name. “Satoru, satoru, please… Sen-sensitive” He finally relents after another minute, your chest heaving as you try to regain your composure.

He pulls away from your cunt, fingers slipping out and you find yourself whining from the missing fullness, despite your earlier cries. He smirks at you simply before you realize he is taking off the rest of his clothes and you go to follow suit, but he simply grabs your wrists shaking his head. You gulp.

You each take a minute to examine the others' bodies, you all but exposed to him except for your bra and him standing fully nude. His muscles are lean, but defined. Shoulders broad and the veins in his arms protruding in a way that had you flush at the sight. Your eyes hover on his dick, and you realize how big he is. Sure Naoya was of decent size, but looking at Gojo now you know he is so much bigger. It's standing high, dripping with precum at the sight of you.

His own eyes are taking in your figure and you can see the desire in them. When he notices you staring he smirks. "Find something you like?"

You go to open your mouth to reply, but instead his lips are on your own, pressing you against the bed. He quickly makes work of your bra and throws it somewhere across the room.

His fingers trail along your skin, bruising almost at the intensity, his kissing seeming to be less controlled than before as he seems to be finally giving into his own want of a release. You don't know how, but in the chaos of sweaty skin-on-skin contact you manage to roll so he lays on his back. You take this moment to torture him, grinding into him. His fingers are digging into your sides, nails leaving half arched halos on your skin. You hiss out a moan before finally you both break and you feel him aligning himself to your center. Without warning he bucks into you and you tremble, the sensation nearly having you cum then and there again with your palms resting against his own heaving chest. Your breath is taken out of you and you collapse on his chest with a satisfied groan, biting into his shoulder from the mixture of pleasure and pain.

He holds you flushed against him for a minute, leaving himself buried in you as he allows you to adjust. Slowly, he begins to thrust into you and you rotate your hips in unison, building a sensual rhythm that has you praising him, face buried in his neck as your eyes flutter in a half-lidded bliss.

“Soo… good, baby,” you moan.

His heart grows with the praise, moving your hair to the side as he kisses your exposed neck. Gradually his pace quickens and he’s whispering in your ear:

“Sit up baby, want to see you riding me.”

You do as he asks, adjusting to the new position before you begin to bounce on top of him, clawing at his chest as he meets your own pace.

"Fuck," you curse. You were still trying to recover from his early services on your cunt, but it was hard when you felt your second orgasm approaching at an increasing rate.

With a little maneuvering he manages to bring himself into a sitting position as well, your legs gripping his sides and hands now resting on his shoulders. He's kissing your chest, your arms, anywhere he can possibly reach. The sight of you unfolding on top of him has him equally becoming a mess, but he isn't quite ready yet. You moan into the crook of his neck as you lean into him, only seeming to say his name now as a mantra that only fans his ego.

"’Toru... ‘Toru... ‘Toru, ‘s too much" you whimper. He lovingly strokes your back, an action that feels parallel to the way he’s pounding into you with such force.

He wraps an arm around you and lays you on your back. Grabbing your right leg, he positions it to be high against your waist, nearly flush against your stomach so he is able to reach even further depths within you. He deliberately slows his movements at the new position, pulling out his cock slowly before slamming it back into you. The new sensation has you wordless, and he can’t help but love the fact that you are quite clearly fucked dumb on his cock, nearly cumming there but that isn't what he wants - not yet. Your fingers dig into his back, leaving scratches down it. He moans from the pleasurable pain.

"P-please," you beg.

He smirks and leans in to kiss you, only to lean into your ear instead at the last minute and whisper, "Please what?"

You're a whimpering mess by now, the feeling coursing through your body so intense that you feel like you almost pass out if you don't get a release soon.

"Please…” you moan again.

“Didn’t,” he grunts with a thrust. “Get that baby.”

Your pouting, tears in your eyes. “Please… let me cum," you moan out.

He trails kisses along your ear, biting the lobe briefly and eliciting another throaty groan from yourself and himself as he feels himself somehow bury himself even deeper into you. God you were perfect and you were his, he thought, swollen lips returning to your own as his hand travels down your stomach and rubs your clit.

You're bucking underneath him now and you know you must look wild, but he seems to love watching you unravel at his touch, his kisses. Please, please please... you think, not knowing how much more you can take until finally:

"Cum, Y/N."

The sound of his voice, of his command has you quickly unravel and you feel your toes curl, back arching as you become further flushed against him, trapping his hand against your swollen clit. You let out a wordless cry, face turning in an “oh” as tears stream down your cheeks, breathing hard as you feel yourself begin to see stars.

God, you had never had an orgasm so intense. Sure when you were Naoyo you had your orgasms, but nothing like this.

Just as you feel yourself starting to come down from your high, Gojo's own movements become more erratic as he chases his own release. Without warning you find yourself cumming again just as he releases his own load into you.

"Fuck," he mumbles, his head falling beside your own as he arms come to rest on either side of you, trying to refrain from putting all of his weight on top of you as he collapsed.

"Mmmhm," is all you are able to mumble, still sensitive from your orgasms, body spasming from the aftermath.

He chuckles at the sight of you below him, lightly kissing your shoulder blade and fingers that gripped his own shoulders. When you finally felt yourself coming down from your own high you blinked, looking over to him with a soft smile on your face.

"You okay?" he asks, the soft side you had seen earlier suddenly appearing. You nod, leaning towards him and kissing his nose lightly.

"...Perfect," you reply with your own hand cupping his face as falls onto his side, your legs tangled together, one arm resting under his head for support and the other falling along your naked hip. You find yourself leaning into him, resting your head onto his strong chest, fingers lazily trailing along his abs.

You're sweaty and hot, both still breathing relatively hard.

He smiles, fingers lightly stroking your exposed skin and you shudder under his touch.

You sit in silence for a moment before you realize you had just slept with your professor. Although you were happy, after all, you did genuinely like him, you were worried considering the general taboo of a student/teacher romance even when in university. Additionally, Gojo was notoriously known for being really in-love with only one person and that was himself.

Noticing your figure becoming more rigid, fingers stilling along his stomach, his hand slipped from your waist and trails up you back. He looks down at you and you turn towards his gaze, less shy than earlier now that he had seen you naked.

"What is it?" he asks.

"We just fucked," you stated.

His head falls back as he stares at the ceiling, his chest vibrating as he chuckles beneath.

"Keen observation," he noted.

You huff, lightly smacking his side and he only laughs more, his fingers tracing circles between your shoulder blades before moving down to your lower back to repeat the pattern.

"No, I mean. We fucked. You, my teacher. Me, your student. Won't -"

He interrupts you however, slightly shifting so he is resting against his forearms. You blush under his gaze.

"I like you," he stated, the words leaving his mouth so simply that it was like it was nothing at all to him. "Should we have waited till you graduated... probably."

He's staring at you so intently, that your blush only grows and he simply smirks at the sight of you reacting like this because of him. You feel his index finger swipe across your bottom lip, watching his eyes grow dark once more. "But even I have my limits." You gulp.

Without warning he falls back onto his back and returns his gaze to the ceiling, one arm nestled under his head, the other back to make circles on your back. "Besides, something tells me we were heading down this path anyway."

He wasn't wrong. When you and Naoyo broke up, the atmosphere between you two changed and even more so, you knew come graduation you weren't sure you could hold in your feelings without at least admitting them before you went out on your own missions. Even if Gojo did end up denying you - at least you would know where you stood. You're just happy his feelings seemed to be the opposite.

You leave a soft kiss against his stomach absentmindedly before sighing contently.

"...So the great, Satoru Gojo actually likes me?" you teased after a few minutes of silence, enjoying each other's presence.

He smirked as you praised him. "Shut up."

You leaned up then, grinning as he met your gaze. "Make me."

You watched him smile in return and before you could do anything else he pulled you into a deep kiss, rolling you onto your back with a laugh.

#gojo satoru #jjk imagines #jjk angst #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru smut #satoru x you #satoru x reader #naoya zenin #romance #slow burn #friends to lovers

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iloveamagician · 8 months

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OH, DISMEMBERMENT PLAN...

what an insane band name, when I first started listening to them, I had no idea what "to dismember" meant, I only looked up the dictionary definition after seeing people's reactions such as "????????" and "the WHAT plan????!!!!", when they had been recommended the band. It happens. I feel it belongs to the experience of people who aren't native speakers of English, yet they've grown up surrounded by music in the language. Music comes first, lyrics second, meaning... third??

I still have a clear memory of ten-year-old me memorizing all the lyrics to my favorite Linkin Park songs. While I recognized some of the words I was singing along to, I wasn't able to decipher their meanings and wasn't even trying to. That band was my first real obsession. Hyperfixation, perhaps. They were the music I would play when I was given access to youtube on the family computer. Turns out I didn't get to grow up to be the person who gets the aux. In my teenage years I went through so many more music phases, a journey I'd love to discover in better detail across many more posts in the future. There was my metal phase with a milion subphases within it (since there is probably more subgenres than bands), then a prog and alt rock phase, then in the summer of 2019 a friend introduced me — 16 year old, coming to terms with their newly discovered queer identity — to car seat headrest, which swept me like an ocean wave and irreversibly changed my music taste and also me as a person.

The world of indie music opened itself to me, so many new artists, bands, but more importantly specific albums by those artists, dc snuff film/waste yrself, the glow pt. 2, itaots, souvlaki... all the classics, but none of them had a hold on me as strong as Twin Fantasy by CSH, Come In by Weatherday, Funeral by Arcade Fire, YWNKW by Sweet Trip, and – well, my Elliott Smith obsession was yet to come but we can count XO in there too. But in the midst of all these albums, you could find Emergency & I, a record that I enjoyed when I first listened to it, I didn't really think much of it, but I really felt the need to return to it. And then again and again, I best enjoyed the fun, most standard songs, What Do You Want Me To Say and Gyroscope, I loved hearing the small weird details in them, the time signatures, the mindblowing drumming... the album didn't mean a lot to me at first. I was still 17 when I first heard it, I needed to grow into it.

A year later I got into a long distance relationship, I started university, I moved from my small town to a big city. And it sucked, I wasn't really able to make any friends, I couldn't handle the pressure of schoolwork, my depression got much worse, my adhd meds weren't really doing anything, at some point I stopped leaving my dorm room and I ended up sinking into a deep metaphorical pit and eventually dropping out after four months. Fun stuff. The reason why I am mentioning all this is that there is a strong correlation between my music journey and my life journey. And Emergency & I is the college age young adult album. There is so much loneliness packed into it but it's not exactly sad or depressing. This album can be kind of laid back, or extremely anxious, it can be very nihilistic and dystopian, it can be very fun or it can completely rip your heart out, it can make you think "yeah I do know these people", it can be very silly and the next second it throws the most poetic and beautiful words at you that fill your heart and head with an abundance of images and feelings. And it gets better the more you grow into it and the more you relate to it, and even if you don't relate to everything, the songwriting and storytelling is so perfect and emotionally intense that it will rip its claws into you and never let you go.

In the last year and a half I've managed to get myself into a much better place in terms of mental health and academic success. I started studying again, this time a subject I love (languages), I found some amazing friends, the long distance relationship has turned into a less distance relationship and we see each other relatively often and things are going great and I finally realized that Emergency & I is the best album ever made. Because even when everything is going great, maintaining all those parts of my life is not easy at all and this album knows it too well. Okay, maybe it is not the best album ever made, but it is the best album for me. At this stage of my life.

But do I claim that after over three years, I understand the meaning of this album perfectly? Not really. Well, I bet not even Travis Morrison does, because how could he have predicted the intensity of the feelings I go through each time I listen to the album, or the impossible to fill void that appears inside of my chest after the final track ends, making me long for more of those feelings but also making me sad becuase there is nothing else quite like E&I...

And, you know, maybe I was wrong and the song meaning does not come third. Maybe the first time you listen to a song, it already means something to you. Maybe that is why I was drawn back to the album. Each time I listen to it I am a different person. And the songs mean different things. Of course I understand more of the song lyrics the more I read them and listen to them and analyze them but words can only go so far in terms of meaning. The band created the songs with certain ideas in their heads but those ideas have been transformed so many times, from their minds through their instruments, on paper, to the recordings, the masters, and then to the ears and minds of thousands of people, through different mediums, through different means of discovery. Songs mean different things to you when a friend recommends them to you or when you find them on your own, even before you listen to them. And I am not even mentioning live performances where your body vibrates with the music and the room and the songs are changed ever so slightly each time. Nobody experiences music the same way.

And I could talk for hours about what exactly the album means to me but I cannot and also do not want to fit all of it in one post. I want to dedicate a separate post to each of the songs on this album, which is one of the things my blog is going to be about, but I don't want to limit myself to being only a dismemberment plan fan, I want to document my music journey here, both by looking into the past and sharing my current favorites (for example get ready for a ton of weatherday posting this year). This post is just me speaking random sentences into the void, to prepare everyone for all of my future long posts, which are also going to be me ranting into the void, hoping things will end up making at least some sense to at least one of you (assuming somebody will read this, but I know this place is full of nerds just as obsessed with things as me (or even more, actually) so my chances aren't a complete zero).

tldr listen to dismemberment plan, it might change your life. I am not conscious enough to proofread. goodnight <3

#dismemberment plan #indie rock #music #csh #90s music #indie #weatherday #nonbinary #I plan to irreversibly damage the music taste of all the gays on here and I am not sorry

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capseycartwright · 2 years

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buddie + the elephants came out of nowhere.

Eddie could hear the laughter as soon as he unlocked the front door, the sound of delighted giggling music to his ears after a long shift. He set his keys on the hall table, kicking off his sneakers before he made his way into the living room.

The scene in front of him was utter chaos - as life tended to be, when you had a baby, two five-year-olds, a teenager and a dog. What looked like every single pillow, blanket and stuffed animal owned by the Buckley-Diaz household had made its way to the living room, a pillow fort centre-stage, the coffee table pushed against the wall.

Buck was lying on the floor, covered in an array of brightly coloured elephants. Ava was going through a bit of an elephant obsession, and neither of them had ever been the type of parent to deny their kids anything - even if that meant that their daughter slept amongst a sea of elephants and would demand they watch an elephant documentary at least once a week. If they could give her all the magic that her little mind could dream up, then it was all worth it, Eddie knew.

“What’s all this?” Eddie decided to announce his presence, having enjoyed watching the chaos from a distance for long enough. Two - no, three - wild-eyed, curly haired sets of faces turned eagerly towards him, excited squeals a now familiar greeting home. Eddie wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve all of this - the house full of laughter he and Christopher called their home - but he was glad of it.

“Eddie!” Buck grinned up at him from his position on the floor. “The elephants - they came out of nowhere! They’re in charge now,” he explained, the game he had been playing with the twins presumably convoluted and silly and - as always - imaginative. His husband gestured to the sea of elephants he was surrounded by, Ava fixing him with a serious look.

“Daddy,” she said. “Are you going to play?”

“Of course I am,” Eddie said, ignoring the ache in his bones as he crouched down, crawling into the pillow fort. He was getting too old for this. “Are they good elephants?” he asked, Ava nodding furiously in response.

“They’re really nice elephants,” Noah explained on behalf of his sister, handing Eddie a green elephant plushie. “Right, Papa?”

“Right, sweetheart,” Buck agreed, and the smile on his face was so fond and so genuine, it made Eddie’s heart melt in his chest. If anyone in this world was meant to be a parent, it was Buck - he’d proved it over and over with Christopher, and a couple of years into their relationship, when they’d taken the plunge and decided to have more kids, he’d grown more and more into parenthood in a way Eddie could only admire. He was the only person Eddie could ever imagine living the madness that was their life with.

“Hi, baby,” Eddie greeted softly, Buck returning the smile. “I missed you today.”

“I missed you too,” Buck agreed, and then he smiled, again. “But someone else missed you more.”

Eddie’s heart had melted inside of his chest so many times over the years - seeing Buck with Christopher, seeing Buck hold the identical blonde bundles that were the twins for the first time. It happened during every important moment, every silly moment, every quiet moment of their lives together - and it definitely happened in moments like this, when Luna sat, arms outstretched and a gummy grin in place as she beamed at her dad. She was Eddie’s double, and at that perfect age where she was nothing but belly rolls and delighted squeals, a few months out from walking and talking.

Having another baby when the twins were five, and Christopher was almost out the door to college - well, it was a crazy choice, to some, but as Eddie scooped her into his arms, Ava and Noah following eagerly, Eddie lost amongst a sea of children and elephants and pillows -

Well, how could it be anything except the perfect choice?

send me a ship and a sentence, I'll write the next five however many i want

#in which lorna writes fic #in which i ramble #asks #clusterbuck #thank u emma i hope ur in the mood for cheese

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olivialancellotta · 10 months

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Olivia Lancellotta-Defining Social Media

I believe that each individual social media user may define it in a slightly different way. Different people utilize social media for different reasons. It does seem to be one of the best ways to quickly connect with others. Social media can be a way to form relationships and can be used as a platform to share interests and ideas. These sights are also a place where one can debate with others about important topics. Some businesses or organizations may use social media as a way to collaborate and have discussions with colleagues that are unable to meet in person. Today it does seem that social media has grown to be one of the most popular modes of communication and group networking. It can be difficult if one is not familiar with and up to date on how to access and use the popular platforms. It is hard to imagine what life was like before social media.

I would characterize myself as a "casual" social media user. For me, social media is a way to keep up with what is current. I use social media brands like TikTok, Instagram and SnapChat to keep up with trends in fashion, music and popular new products. SnapChat is a forum where My friends and I can instantly send messages and pictures about where we are, what we are doing, and who we are with. Even though many of my friends are far away at college, social media helps me keep in touch with them and continue our relationships. I do not feel that social media is a replacement for person to person interaction but, I do agree that without social media it would be much harder to grow and sustain long distance relationships. Most current events I find from social media. My friends and I do not read the newspaper or watch the news. I do find that I have to use caution when reading about happenings on social media and that it is important to note the source from which the events are being reported.

Once I was allowed by my parents to go on social media, I quickly made sure I had SnapChat, Instagram and TikTok accounts. It was easy for me to access and because I was raised in the age of technology, I was confident in my abilities to use these platforms in a variety of ways. All my friends were also on these popular social media brands and keeping up with posts and chats was important to me and sometimes even a priority. Keeping communication with friends and staying up on trends was so much easier when using social media. Once in college, I was asked by my business professor to create a Linkedin page and that was when I realized I had only experienced a very small piece of what social media had to offer. Being able to publicize my resume(work experience) where companies could access that opened my eyes to the even greater potential of social media.

Social Media does pose some challenges for me. There are so many different platforms that are constantly evolving and changing that it can be difficult to keep up. I find that I tend to stick with what I know and understand and I do feel that sometimes , like as in the case of Linkedin, I may be missing out on other helpful social media brands. Also, it is easy to get caught up in social media and sometimes I dare say "get lost in it". It is almost too easy to become addicted to watching and responding to what I read on social media and the need to respond instantly can almost feel a bit like an addiction. Setting limits is almost necessary because the world of social media although fascinating and wonderful can sometimes be overwhelming.

In this course, I am hoping to learn more about social media and how it can help me with networking and in my future career as a teacher. I am hoping to step outside my comfort zone and try new things like Twitter, Tumbler and SmartBrief. I know many friends that use Twitter and that is of a particular interest to me. Communication is so important in all careers and I would love to become a better more confident communicator on social media. I want to learn how to be safe and be able to reach a target audience right online. I look forward to what else I may learn in this class to help me be a responsible user of social media.

#susisummer22definesocialmedia

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btsdreamcourt · 2 years

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Tuesday, October 11, 2022 ⥈ Fic Review #2

Dearest Readers,

We are delighted to share BTS Dream Court’s Fic Review from the month of September! Each month, we highlight an Esteemed Member of our Ton and a piece from their personal library. This past month, we are proud to share that Viscountess Cath @magicshopaholic has received this honor.

TITLE: Next Time

PAIRING: Namjoon x OC

SUMMARY: “It’s a quiet night in, and neither of you are in the mood for talking.”

Read Here

What our Queens and Court Officials have to say about this fic:

❝ Normally, x OC fics are not my first choice, but I'm so glad that I came across Next Time. It was really well written, not to mention hot, and I quite enjoyed Kaya's point of view on everything. Her attitude and demeanor really came through in this fic and I adore her personality. My heart ached knowing that she and Joon were going to be apart again so soon and I could feel their dread. 10/10 fic, and I can't wait to catch up on the others! ❞ - Queen Valerie

❝ Next Time was really good!! Even though I was in my feels I still enjoyed it. I love when characters are adorn with a big personality and Kaya had such a strong impact on me. The spice was just right and the ending... ‘Like I said: we have all night,’ my knees were weak!! Amazing story! Thank you for sharing. ❞ - Queen Dee Dee

What was your inspiration for Fic Title Here?

So I have storylines for all members, and this was probably the sixth or seventh fic in Namjoon’s. He and his OC are in a long distance relationship and this particular fic is set on one of the nights before she has to go back home. I wanted to write specifically about that feeling of dread that you know is coming, that’s expected but isn’t made any easier with time, and the lengths people will go to to avoid feeling all of that, distracting themselves with other emotions.

Which of the characters do you relate to the most in Fic Title Here and why? Which was the most fun/difficult to write?

Kaya/the OC is probably the OC I relate to the most in my universe. She’s academically driven and hardworking and kind of scatterbrained, but she’s really good for Namjoon, in that he’s finally able to let his guard down around her. In particular, I relate to her because we both left home for college and stayed out, live alone, are borderline workaholics but don’t mind that either. She’s usually the most fun character to write that way, because I can explore choices and experiences vicariously through her - in some cases, not all - mostly because we’re the same age and have so many of the same values and experiences.

How long have you been writing? What made you decide to write?

I’ve been writing for approximately fifteen years, ever since my cousin sister introduced me to fanfiction back in middle school. I’ve written for tons of fandoms, but the one that’s stayed with me the longest has been Harry Potter, from cringe romance to more grown up war fics. I have an extremely vivid imagination and I can spend hours daydreaming so the best outlet for me is to pen it down, regardless of whether I choose to publish. I also love going back and re-reading it, if for no other reason than to catch glimpses of what I was doing back then or how my writing has improved.

What are your favorite tropes, genres, AUs, etc. to read and write?

Within the BTS fandom, I’ll honestly read anything as long as it’s written well. Darkfic/yandere/mafia/hybrid isn’t really my cup of tea, but I particularly love soulmate AUs, idol AUs and - this is a weird sub-genre - almost divorced couple AUs (delicious angst). I also love certain crack fics, because humour and banter is something I love to read and write.

When it comes to writing, I strictly stay within canon, no matter the fandom. If I’m writing about real people, then canon implies whatever we know publicly about them, along with minor changes maybe - which is why all my fics are idol fics. I also love writing movie/TV show AUs, where I get to flit between the characters’ canon and the show’s canon, which is fun.

How do you overcome writers block?

Power through. That’s literally it. I don’t like having unfinished WIPs, so if I’m working on a fic where I’m stuck, I have this need to finish it before moving on. If I’m stuck on a certain scene, I just close that scene as quickly as possible and start writing the one I really want, and work on the transition later. Sometimes I watch a movie or a show with a similar theme for inspiration too.

What is the most difficult part of your writing process?

Given that I have set storylines for all members, I know where all their stories are headed. I also have certain key events outlined, but there are fics I need to insert to add context and stuff, so thinking about those situations and fleshing it out is a bit of a challenge.

When Cath isn’t writing, you can often find her working, reading, or chasing her labrador around the house while he steals her stuff. Cath is a manager at an investment bank, working in process transformation and change management. When Cath is craving something good to eat, she chooses Chinese takeout or garlic bread. Cath is very thankful for the network of writers she's met.

BDC is proud to have Cath as a member of our Court and cannot wait to see what she shares next!

#fic review

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we-eternal-rp · 2 years

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— ☄ APOLLO ! aka. aurora andersen, 26, (kristine froseth) is looking for her ex boyfriend.

they were high school sweethearts, the type that everyone thought would end up together, but didn’t because he moved at the opposite side of the world for college (either somewhere in asia or australia since aurora is from new york). the two tried to make the long distance thing work, but it only lasted for half a year since it was hard going from being with each other at least 5 days a week to just doing facetime calls every other day. during her christmas break, aurora flew to where he was living to surprise him but instead, she was surprised to see just how happy he was when she has been completely miserable without him. he seemed to be fitting well with his new friends and she seemed like a thing in the past now. somehow, the distance between them seemed to have only grown further more when she came. since neither of them really wanted to face the truth that their relationship was coming to an end, they just slowly started to ghost each other--which wasn’t hard when there was no chance that they would cross each other’s path again. they never had a proper closure and without that, a part of her would always long for him. they haven’t really seen each other for like at least six years now. i do like the idea of them being on the same place at the same time though but never actually meeting. we could go on either way here, the angst of the lost love or them trying to rekindle what they had before. i’m just kinda obsessed with niki’s oceans and engines and i’m putting it up as a headcanon that aurora wrote it for your muse. let’s just see how they vibe, yeah?

suggested fcs: jacob elordi, thomas doherty, alex fitzalan, song kang, aron piper, nicholas galitzine, keith powers, tommy martinez, maxence danet fauvel, jordan fisher.

key connection details.

disallowed fcs: singers / vloggers / models that do not have acting resources

suggested/requested ethnicity: N/A

deity suggestions: hyacinthus, daphne, UTP

gender preference: masc preference

wc name: UTP

wc age: 26-28

key features: nothing notable

how long have they known each other?: since high school or even from childhood back in new york city.

connection description.

canon details this wc would know about aurora: one of his nicknames for her would have been sun/sunshine since she was the sun incarnate with her bubbly disposition. it could have started with him just teasing her with that nickname but it grew on her. aurora would have also confided with him about her family; how her parents were quite indifferent and how she tried to please them but never could. he would have also known about her fondness music and her songwriting skills? she totally confessed her feelings for him by writing a song for him like nini did for ricky in high school musical the series.

hc’s for this wc: honestly, we can just plot these things out? he would have been her muse though.

do you require the applicant to contact you before applying?: not really, but you can reach me @gcldrushed if you have any questions!

#wanted connection!#thomas doherty fc #jordan fisher fc #jacob elordi fc #alex fitzalan fc #song kang fc #aron piper fc #nicholas galitzine fc #keith powers fc #tommy martinez fc #maxence danet fauvel fc

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nanengko · 3 years

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𝘼𝙇𝙇 𝙄 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙉𝘼 𝘿𝙊 𝙄𝙎 𝙎𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 —

DILF!MATSUKAWA X COLLEGE F!READER ♡

my contribution for the dilf collab by @kaijime

notes: 18+ ONLY MDNI; ty viko <3; please see the rest of the contributions for this collab!

summary: you didn't think it would go beyond admiring him from a distance, but now you can't seem to leave him alone.

genre: smut; fluff; angst; strangers to lovers

content: dilf!mattsun; college f!reader; smoking; age-gap relationship; term of endearment sweetheart; brief mention of death (non-significant character), mourning, funerals; mentions of mattsun having a kid and past relationship; reader gets followed and grabbed briefly in the beginning (gets hair pulled); fingering; messy oral m and f receiving (69); face-sitting; overstimulation; impact play (x1 slap); size kink; praise; very light D/s undertones

words: 9.6k+

It's difficult to pinpoint the exact moment he started to catch your eye. To you, he's always been one of the usual faces you would pass on your route whenever you were running to class or going to work. Seeing him at the same time and in the same spot almost everyday has ingrained his features into your consciousness—recognizing his presence as something familiar.

Each time you do, he always looks the same standing by the funeral home—black suit, sometimes with a cigarette between his lips, but always with a solemn look on his face. He looks to be older, maybe his late thirties, but you wouldn’t say he looks unattractive. Based on your own observations, he arguably has quite the handsome set of features, as well as a sense of ease and maturity in the way he carries himself.

This time, as you hurriedly make your way to your morning lecture, you can't help but notice a group of people standing outside the funeral home. They're dressed in all black and their soft cries of mourning are hard to ignore. The building itself is nice on the outside, quaint and classic, but you can only imagine the amount of sorrow its walls have witnessed.

The somber atmosphere weighing heavily in the air has you offering your silent condolence and respects as you pass. This isn't exactly how you want to start the day so you keep walking forward, but there’s a gradual slow to your steps, and you’re doing so without realizing.

You find yourself searching for something amongst the crowd—perhaps that familiarity that you've unknowingly grown accustomed to. Eyes wander until they rest on who it is you're trying to find, and he's there holding the doors open for the guests as he directs them inside.

He looks calm, politely greeting everyone as they come in, offering his own condolences to each person who passes him. How can someone work here every day? That thought lingers, but is quickly pushed aside when you remember that you're running late and you have a bus to catch.

With a sigh and a quick turn of your head, you continue with a slight jog as you mentally curse yourself for staying up so late last night; it wasn’t completely your fault though. If your group member had just done their part on time, you wouldn’t have had to do double the amount of work right before the deadline last night. You’re tired and not really in the best mood, but at least the assignment was done and the last time you’ll ever have to speak with your partner.

Slightly out of breath, but as well as to your surprise, you manage to make it through the doors of the bus. It's crowded, bodies pressed up against each other in a way that was too close for your own comfort, but you make do. It doesn’t take long to make it to campus, and many of the occupants file their way out at your stop, parting ways to whichever direction they were headed.

The more the lecture drags on, the more difficult you find to stay focused. Your lids feel heavy, typing seems to slow, and your professor’s voice starts to sound like a drowned-out broken record player.

The soft collective patter of keyboards seems to lull you into more of a haze, and it has you wishing you were back in the comfort of your own bed. You rub the back of your hand over your eyes and deeply inhale. I still have another lecture and then I work until late tonight. You mentally prepare yourself for the day ahead, trying your best to shake the blanket of sleep that's already starting to cover you.

═ ❀ ═

A friendly, but tired wave of goodbye is thrown as the last customer for the night takes their leave. The coffee shop you work in is small, but cozy. It's near campus, which gives you the advantage of easily working in between classes without having to go too far.

Both your coworker and yourself start to go through all the nightly procedures for closing; you're exhausted, but you let out a sigh of relief remembering that you don't have class until late in the afternoon tomorrow.

"So, anyone catch your eye lately?" You hear your coworker ask with a sly smile.

You roll your eyes. "Don't even start with that again," you respond playfully with a shake of your head as you start to ring out a wet cloth.

"You know, I have this guy friend and I think you two would—"

"Did you forget what happened the last time?" Voice filled with disbelief, you instantly cut her off.

Shaking off a shudder at the memory, you continue to busy yourself by wiping the spilt coffee residue off the counters.

"Fine, fine. He couldn’t have been that bad though,” she says with a few giggles as she picks up the mop from the bucket.

You stop wiping the counter to shoot her a glare.

The last date you let your coworker set you up on was disappointing to say the least. All he did was talk about himself the entire time, not bothering to ask a single thing about you. He was arrogant, and not in a way that came off as someone who was self-assured or confident, but in a way that screamed 'making up for my self-esteem issues'. He couldn't even take a hint at your obvious discomfort.

The worst part was the expectation he had of taking you home at the end, that had your patience running thin. Immature was the only word that repeated in your mind and you wanted nothing more except for the night to end, telling yourself that you would never trust anyone to set you up again.

It's not that you're inexperienced or that you don't want to date. You've been in a few relationships in the past, but none of them seemed to work out—none of them felt right. There was always that gut feeling that would constantly nag you to just end things before anything got too serious—before anyone got too hurt.

Also, you weren't exactly actively seeking anyone out at the moment, but you would be more than open to getting to know someone if given an opportunity that holds potential—a relationship with stability, trust, and mutual respect. If that time were to come, you would want it to be with the right person.

You both quickly finish the rest of the shop’s closing duties. Your coworker leaves first, screaming out a ‘goodnight’ as she runs out the doors. Now that you’re alone in the darkness, your body starts to feel the effects from the lack of sleep. The only thing on your mind now was a nice warm bath and your bed.

Your steps feel heavy as you trudge towards the bus stop and you notice how quiet this area can get at this time. The usual lively street is empty, the rest of the shops now closed.

A strange sense of alarm suddenly overcomes you; it's hard to ignore the goosebumps that start to creep along your arms, but you keep walking until you arrive at the stop.

You stand underneath the flickering lamp post, a soft buzz coming from the bulb, which only adds to your unease. Your leg starts to bounce in place, while you start to hope that the feeling from earlier was just the doings of your sleep-deprived brain.

Trying to calm yourself, you use your phone as a distraction to endlessly scroll through the various social media applications on your phone. You hear the quiet crunch of gravel somewhere behind you, but it sounds distanced and it could be anyone or an animal, you don’t know why you’re being so paranoid. Where the hell is that bus?

Despite the mindless scrolling, all of your attention is focused on the sounds around you. The footsteps from earlier seem to be getting closer and you freeze; your thumb stops moving, but you also hear the sound of a vehicle approaching. Headlights illuminate the dark road, and to your relief, it’s the bus. You quickly get in and it’s mostly empty, minus a few other people. You let out a sigh as you take your seat.

The doors are about to close, but they’re abruptly opened as someone jumps in, and you’re almost certain they shoot you a look as they pass. That feeling is back, but you ignore it. You occupy yourself by staring out the window, but you swear you can feel eyes on you. Stop being so paranoid. You sit in silent debate with yourself, denying your gut feeling because it can’t be that, right?

The bus comes to a stop and you get off, and you pray that it’s just you. You quickly look behind you, and to your dread, that same person gets off as well. Fuck. Am I being followed? You feel your heart stutter and your stomach drop, but you keep walking. Your hands are stuffed and balled into the front pocket of your hoodie and you feel yourself break into a cold sweat.

Your eyes frantically start to look around, but there’s nobody, except the few cars that would pass by every few minutes. Stopping isn’t really an option, fearing what would happen if you did. Your apartment is still a few blocks away. Can I even out run this person if I had to? Probably not.

You’re walking faster now, passing all the familiar buildings along the way, but it doesn’t bring you any comfort. Hesitantly, you take another look behind you, and they’re still there, but closer this time. You’re being followed, and that was the reality you didn’t want to believe.

Quick, but frantic thinking has you pulling out your phone because maybe calling someone would scare them off. You struggle to even unlock it; trying to keep your pace while your emotions are running high has your fingers fumbling on the screen and your phone slipping out of your grip.

You scramble to pick it up, but they’re on you in an instant, grabbing hold of your arm with a grip that you feel would leave a bruise. Too shocked to even scream, you feel your eyes sting and you’re pleading with them to let you go. Their other hand grips into your hair, a searing pain shooting through your scalp. You're being dragged, the bottom half of your body scraping along the sidewalk.

Suddenly, you fall back harshly onto the cold ground, wincing at the impact. You hear the sound of shoes quickly hitting the pavement, they're running away. Your eyes are closed, lined with unshed tears that are threatening to spill out at any moment. There’s also a heavy scent of what smells like cigarette smoke.

You’re sure you look pathetic right now, curled up into a ball and laying on the ground about to cry, but you’re just grateful that person is gone. Waiting for your breath to even, your eyes slowly open and are met with a pair of black dress shoes.

You slowly lift your head and there’s a man looking down at you with raised eyebrows. Instantly, you recognize him as the man from the funeral home.

“He’s gone now,” he says quietly before taking a drawl from his cigarette. “Are you okay?” He asks out of concern as he extends a hand out to you with the intention to help you up.

It takes some time to register his words, but he remains there in silent understanding. So, he's the one who scared the guy off?

"I—uh. I—I think so," the stutter and shake to your voice is blatantly obvious, but you're too unnerved to care.

You remain in the same position, the cold ground starting to bite at your hands and knees, and you don't realize you're staring at him. This is the closest you've been to this person, so you study his features. Your initial observations of him were correct—slightly older man, but strikingly handsome. Something new that you notice though is his height, he's very tall. He clears his throat and you're knocked out of your stupor, his hand still outstretched towards you.

You quickly wipe your hands onto the front of your pants before placing it into his, and he instantly closes his hand tightly around. It feels strong, slightly calloused, and warm; it brings you reassurance. After going through what you just did, this tiny bit of contact, even from a stranger, is comforting and very appreciated. He helps to pull you up until you're standing again.

Still sniffling, you wipe the rest of your stray tears away with your other hand as you take in a long shaky breath. You take a look around, noticing that you're standing in front of the funeral home.

"Do you live nearby?" He brings his cigarette back to his lips, taking a deep inhale before he blows out the smoke away from you.

"Yeah. Just a couple blocks up this street," your reply is quiet, but it's just enough for him to hear.

"I can drive you home if you'd like." Taking one last inhale, he drops it to the ground before putting it out with the bottom of his shoe.

Is it really okay to bother him with this? I barely know him. He's looking at you with a neutral expression, waiting for your reply, but he picks up on your hesitation.

"No pressure. Just wanted to offer since it's already late." He gives your hand a light squeeze of reassurance.

The squeeze reminds you that you're still holding his hand and in a panic, you're swiftly pulling out from his grasp. The movement is sudden and has him raising his eyebrows at you, slightly startled.

"S-Sorry. Didn't realize I was still holding onto you," your words come out fast, afraid that you've offended him somehow. "But, a drive would be nice. Thank you," you avert your eyes out of embarrassment.

He shoots you a small, but lopsided smile, "No need for apologies, I don't mind." He turns and starts to walk towards the building, "My car is parked in the back," he calls to you over his shoulder.

Your hands feel cold so you stuff both into the front pocket of your hoodie, clasping them together and holding on tight. Perhaps it's your own way of mimicking how he was holding onto your hand just moments before.

The car ride is quiet, but you sit in comfortable silence, hoping that he doesn't find the current situation awkward. The only time you spoke was to give directions on how to get to your apartment.

Now that you're calm, you begin to fully process how much trouble you could have gotten into if he had not been there, the thought alone runs a cold shudder down your spine.

A deep inhale through your nose and there's a faint hint of smoke mixed with a spicy bergamot cologne, you let your eyes shut. Too much has happened, so you allow yourself at least this.

You wake to a gentle, yet firm shake on your shoulder. Your eyes slowly open and you're home. You look at the hand resting on your shoulder and you trail up his arm until you're looking at his face.

"Thanks for tonight," you let out a breath, "If you hadn't been there, I—I could've—"

"You're welcome, but you're safe now. You seem tired, get inside and rest," his deep voice calms the rest of your nerves.

There's no use in dwelling on the what ifs because he's right, I'm safe now.

You unbuckle the seatbelt and turn to open the door, feeling his hand leave your shoulder as you step out.

As you walk towards the building and make your way up the steps, you turn around and to your surprise, he's still there. He's watching to make sure you at least make it to the front door of your complex.

You weren't really expecting him to, driving you was more than enough, but the little gesture itself was—nice? Feeling a little warm, you give a shy wave and he waves back through the window before finally driving off. You stand in place for a few moments, watching his car until it disappears around the corner.

As you unlock the door to your unit, a sudden thought hits you like a slap across the face—I didn't ask for his name.

═ ❀ ═

Morning comes and you're once again walking down that same familiar street, and with some time to spare before your afternoon class. Waking up this morning had you wanting to do something for that man, it was the least you could do. You pass all the familiar shops, but you stop in front of one of your favourite cafés.

You spend some time staring at the menu, and finally decide to get him a tiny box of assorted pastries. You know for certain that at this time he should be in front of the funeral home taking a smoke break, you've passed by too many times to count and he's always been there without fail.

With a confidence in your step, you make your way towards the funeral home, but as you get nearer, your palms start to sweat and you feel like your heart is caught in your throat. You're nervous and maybe a tad bit self-conscious. Your mind is plagued by so many thoughts—Is it too much? Too weird? Would he think I'm annoying?

You try your best to stop over-thinking because you can see him now, and you were right, he's standing in the same spot. With a deep breath and with your heart still hammering through, you walk up towards him.

"Hey," your voice sounds small, but it gets his attention.

His eyes widen slightly and he pulls his cigarette away from his lips, "Good afternoon," the surprise clear in his voice.

"I—uh came to give you this," you hold up the neatly wrapped box, warmth rushing to your face as you do, "For yesterday," you quickly add and avert your gaze to the side.

You feel like you've been standing there for a while, awkwardly holding a box up. Why hasn't he taken it yet? You hesitantly bring your eyes up to his face. He's smiling and you don't think you can look away.

"You really didn't have to, sweetheart," his voice sounds warm and inviting, his pinky ever so slightly grazing the side of your hand as he takes the box. "But, thank you."

Oh. Sweetheart? Your face feels hot and you're trying your best to suppress a giddy smile. The slight touch also wasn't helping in the least, it reminds you of the way he was holding your hand just the night before and how much reassurance it brought.

"W-What's your name?" It comes out rushed—maybe a little desperate too? Real smooth. "I mean, I didn't get a chance to ask you yesterday, so..."

He lets out a hearty laugh before continuing, "Matsukawa Issei. Yours?"

He's fully turned towards you now, and you're directly under his gaze. You can smell him again—spicy bergamot with a hint of tobacco.

"Matsukawa?" You say quietly, just to test it on your tongue, but he hears you.

"Issei. Just Issei is fine," amusement clearly written on his face as he brings his cigarette back to his lips.

"Okay, Issei," you tell him with a small smile.

You tell him what your name is and he hums in acknowledgement, blowing some smoke out before speaking again, "So, how did you know I'd be here?"

"I see you here a lot," you tell him truthfully.

He smiles wider with a raised brow. "You've been watching me then?"

"What? No! I mean—kind of?" You try to explain yourself in a panic without seeming like a creep.

Pure embarrassment washes over you and you ball your fists at your sides, a slight pout forming on your lips. It's not your fault that your schedules seem to always match-up. He just happened to be there all those times and you just happened to take notice.

His smile is still in place, but cigarette now burnt out and forgotten in the ashtray, "Relax, sweetheart. I'm just kidding."

You let out a breath, "What I mean to say is, I walk this way often when going to class, and I guess you're usually on break during those times or something, so I end up seeing you," you finally get to say with a huff.

"So that's it," his tone is teasing and playful, and it makes you want to play alongside him.

"Yeah. That's it," you match his tone, crossing your arms over your chest and feigning confidence like he didn't just embarrass you moments before. "Anyways, I have to get to class now. I'll see you around?" You start to slowly back away, but your eyes never leave his.

Still with that stupidly handsome smirk across his lips he responds, "Yeah, you'll see me around, just like you claim to always do." He casually gives a wave as you start to walk away.

Your eyes are rolling, but once you're turned around from him, you're smiling without restraint.

═ ❀ ═

A few days pass, and you're back. You decided that it would feel weird to not go up to Issei if you saw him because you're on familiar terms with each other now, right?

"Oh? Missed me already?" He asks you with a smile as you approach.

Before you can even react to his statement, he interjects, "I was just about to grab a coffee, wanna come?"

In your excitement, you fall into stride alongside him.

"What brings you back this time?" He asks out of curiosity as he lets his eyes sweep over your face.

You hum in thought, "Nothing in particular, just saw you and felt like saying hi." You sneak a look up at him, not expecting your gazes to meet.

Warmth starts to prickle your cheeks and you quickly snap your head back to the front.

"I guess this means I'm going to be seeing more of you from now on?" He chuckles lightly to himself when he notices your flustered appearance. How cute.

"I guess so?" You answer him tentatively, unsure if it would bother him if you did.

"Well that's fine by me, I could get used to seeing your face around." He swings the café door open, waiting for you to go in first.

Saving yourself from any potential embarrassment, you ignore the second half of his statement. A simple "Thanks" is mumbled instead when you pass him.

He buys you an iced-coffee, even though you kept on insisting that you could pay for it yourself, but he argues that you can pay for his next time.

So, there would be a next time then. Too occupied by his last statement, you forget to even reply.

He places a hand onto the middle of your back. "Hey. Don't go spacing out on me now, sweetheart," he laughs out.

"Hm? Oh—yeah sure, sounds good," you nod numbly, while you try to compose the current flutter in your chest.

You've only recently become acquainted with Issei, but you look forward to seeing him. His presence is comforting and you can't help but feel drawn whenever your eyes meet, nor can you help but lean into him whenever he touches you—despite the nervousness that comes along with it.

═ ❀ ═

After a month, you'd say it's become the norm—waving to Issei as you pass him, sometimes stopping to rant to him about yet another insufferable group member, or getting a coffee together to just talk about anything that comes to mind.

He listens to everything you have to say, adding his own opinions and comments every now and then, but you notice that he rarely talks about himself. If you tried, he would lightly dodge or turn the question around back to you. He would always be the one asking the questions, and you would talk endlessly before realizing you have to go to class, parting ways until the next time.

You've been talking, just like how friends talk, but it feels strange to label it as friends given the obvious age difference. You don't even have the slightest clue as to how he feels about this whole thing—what does he make of you? That silly young girl who he had to save, and who now can't seem to leave him alone.

You’re at work, but it's difficult to stay focused when you can't stop thinking about everything.

“A vanilla latte with extra sugar for the next customer,” you hear your coworker speak, but the words don't seem to register. “Uh, hello?” You feel a poke on your back, knocking you out of your thoughts.

You jump slightly, “Sorry, what?”

“I said, a vanilla latte with extra sugar,” she says slowly this time, emphasizing each word as she speaks.

“Right,” you say quickly, immediately starting on the order.

Your coworker stares at you for a brief moment with her head tilting to the side, “What is with you today? Are you…okay?” She asks you with a whisper.

“Yeah, yeah. Just thinking about something,” you say nonchalantly, avoiding eye contact.

You’re not sure if you want to tell your coworker about your little dilemma, fearing the possible judgement that may come. You needed a second opinion though, so you decide to just do it—leaving out a few details of course.

“What would you do if you wanted to get to know someone better, but you just can’t?” You take a deep breath as you add the finishing touches to the latte, “Like, they seem interested in the things you have to say, but whenever you try to ask them things about themselves, it seems like they avoid the question or answer without going into much detail.”

“Whoa, hold on. So, this is a boy problem?” She raises her brows at you, taking the latte from your hands before passing it to the customer.

“I guess so?” You sound meek, trying your best to not give away too much information about Issei.

She pauses in thought. “Maybe they’re just a little hesitant about saying too much—afraid you’d be put-off by them.”

Could that be it? You drum your fingertips against the counter, thinking to yourself. A long silence emerges between the both of you.

“If you really want to get to know this person, I would just talk to them about it,” she shrugs her shoulders as she walks away to tend to the next customer.

There’s so much that you want to ask Issei, but would it be wrong to? The last thing you want is to over-step and make him uncomfortable. What am I even trying to achieve? A friendship?

═ ❀ ═

You take the next week to think over what it is you want to do, even going as far as to avoid Issei completely, giving you a blank slate. But, you've finally decided—taking your coworkers advice, you agree that a direct approach would work best. Being honest with yourself though, you really did miss seeing him.

"Issei," you're quiet, yet stern, "I need to talk to you," you place yourself in front of him as he blows his smoke out.

"There you are, it's been a while," he smiles down at you, "Missed seeing your face around, sweetheart."

His words cause a falter in your front—the thoughts that you've carefully strung together are now a tangled mess.

"How've you been? If this is about that group member—"

Ignoring his question, you shake your head quickly, and come back to your senses. "No. It's not."

Hearing the seriousness in your voice seems to knock that playful smile off his face.

"What do you think about all this?" You suddenly blurt out, and maybe louder than intended.

A few pairs of eyes on the street are now indiscreetly looking at the both of you as they pass.

He's staring at you with a blank look, yet his eyes are full of knowing.

He puts out his cigarette into the ashtray with a sigh, "If you have time, come drive with me."

You nod, following close behind him as he walks towards his car.

The first couple minutes of the drive are quiet, but this time, you find it uncomfortable.

You nervously play with your hands, "When you said you missed seeing me, did you mean it?" You ask him, desperate to put anything in between the silence.

You hold your breath for a moment. He doesn't say anything at first, and it makes you almost regret acting on your coworker's advice.

"I did," he finally says with a deep exhale, not realizing he even said that he's missed you in the first place.

But, you caught him, and you feel an odd sense of relief wash over you.

You keep staring down at your hands before continuing, "Does it bother you when I talk to you during your breaks?"

"Not in the slightest.” He’s being truthful.

"Then, as I said before, what do you think about all of this?” You turn in your seat to face him.

He lets out a nervous chuckle, "Asking the hard questions now.” He pauses, gripping a little tighter onto the steering wheel.

You notice. “I want to get to know you better, but you don’t usually talk about yourself.”

“You’re wasting your time,” he says bluntly.

His words have you shrinking in your seat, but you persist, “Then why say you missed seeing me and why tell me to come drive with you?”

“I’m happy with the way things are now,” he takes in a deep breath, “And I think we should keep things that way, for both our sakes.” He sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than you.

For Issei, it’s more of a hesitation than him not understanding his own feelings. He’s very aware of how he is feeling and what he wants. The last thing he wants is to get hurt, but even more than that, he doesn’t want to see you get hurt because of his own selfish reasons.

You got what you wanted, he told you how he feels about everything, but you can’t help the disappointment that's starting to settle like a heavy weight on your chest.

You ball your hands in your lap, nails digging into your palm, “You didn’t really answer the question though. What do you think about me, specifically?”

His eyes remain fixated on the road ahead. “I think you’re great and truthfully, I look forward to speaking with you whenever you show up out of nowhere. You’re a joy to be around.”

You unclench your fists and you don't miss the slight furrow of his thick brows, or the way his jaw tenses.

He swallows before speaking, “I think I know what you want from me, but I'm sorry. I don’t think I can be that person for you.”

Oh. He seems to have realized what you’ve been trying to understand and come to terms with, before you could even fully comprehend it for yourself—you're attracted to him, no, you like him too.

You've finally found someone who you thought would be worthwhile, but there were other issues that needed to be dealt with, and you couldn't help the slight squeeze at your heart.

You turn away from him and stare out the windshield as a heavy silence starts to settle. He said what he said, and maybe you're being immature, but you don't like his answer. If you were ever rejected you would just let it go, but for some reason you can't let go of this one.

You think it's safe to assume that he's been hinting at mutual feelings, but he hasn't outright said it—yet. There's something between the both of you that's getting harder to ignore and you'd hate for it to go to waste, but you're not one to push things and make him uncomfortable.

As the car approaches a stop light, he turns his head to look at you. "I'll drop you off to class," he says quietly, but it sounds so loud through the silence.

You simply nod as you continue to look straight ahead, the both of you sitting in the tense silence the rest of the way. You feel stupid and out of place, like you've over stayed a generous welcome.

"Maybe they’re just a little hesitant about saying too much—afraid you’d be put-off by them."

That conversation that you had with your coworker comes to mind. If he's hesitant, I'll wait for him.

"You say it's a waste of time, but I think I can make that decision for myself, Issei," you swallow a thick lump in your throat.

"And you're right, I want something from you. I want to get to know you better, but only if you'll let me." You tell him as you draw closer to campus—one last effort to try to mend things.

He turns his head towards you slightly, eyes full of conflict. He watches as you quickly rip a piece of paper out of your notebook to scribble your number down.

He pulls up in front of your school and stops the car as you drop that piece of paper into the cup holder.

"That's my number, just in case you change your mind," your words are hopeful and you give him one last longing look before stepping out of the car.

═ ❀ ═

You let out a frustrated groan as you bury your face into the copious amounts of loose papers and notebooks at your desk. You're currently in the middle of finals and it's been a few weeks since the last time you saw Issei.

Classes are over, so there isn't a need for you to walk your usual route; if you had to go to work, you would take the longer way to avoid seeing him. You've been occupying your time with studying to try to avoid thinking about him, and the call or text that may never come.

Countless nights were spent falling asleep to thoughts of Issei—going over that conversation you had in the car and wondering if you could have said something different or not have said anything at all. Maybe then, things would have turned out differently.

You lift your head back up and slouch into your chair with a sigh. Within the first two weeks without contact, you concluded that he was never going to call or message you. It was hard to accept at first, and even now you're still hoping and wishing for it.

You stop yourself from thinking about him anymore because if you didn't, surely you'd start to spiral back into regret and the what ifs. Besides, you had other problems to worry about like the exams you have coming up within the next few days.

I should just forget about him, he would have called by now if he wanted to. You shove any stray thoughts of Issei away, locking them up to save yourself from the unnecessary heartache.

You let out a yawn, but bury your nose back into your notes, determined to get through the next few sections before heading to bed. You continue to study until the text starts to get bleary and your lids grow heavy; you're getting sleepy and lay your head onto your desk to rest your eyes for just a few minutes.

You're abruptly pulled away from sleep when you hear the sound of your phone vibrating against your wooden desk.

You curse at the slight annoyance and without opening your eyes, your hands reach for your phone to answer with a groggy, "Hello?"

"Oh, I'm sorry to wake you, sweetheart." The voice is warm and smooth, you would recognize it anywhere and it immediately wakes you up.

You sit up, breath hitching, "Issei?" You don't even try to hide the surprise in your voice.

He chuckles, "Yeah."

His laugh has you smiling into your phone. Deep down, you knew you missed him dearly, but your reaction to just the sound of his voice alone is enough to tell you how infatuated you are with him.

He clears his throats, "I'm actually outside your building."

You jump off your chair embarrassingly fast, making your way towards the window as you roughly pull your curtains to the side. You stare at him down below—leaning against the side of his car with phone in hand.

You blink. "You are,” you pause before speaking. “Uh—you wanna come up? Unit 905." You try your best to calm your voice.

"Of course. I'll see you in a bit." He hangs up.

Quickly, you take a look around at the state of your apartment and scramble to straighten up all the loose papers and books currently sprawled all over the floor and desk. Too caught up in trying to make your apartment look presentable, you don't realize you're still wearing your tiny sleeping shorts and camisole. Before you can even begin to think to change, there's three light taps on the door.

With a breath to calm your nerves, you open it. "Hi. Come in," you somehow manage to say smoothly, but the way your heart's beating says otherwise.

"Hello, sweetheart," his eyes do a quick sweep over you, "Cute pyjamas," he says with a smile as he steps inside and takes his shoes off.

Warmth brushes your cheeks and you breathe out a small "Thanks" before offering him a seat on the couch.

You follow, leaving a comfortable space in between as you face him and cross your legs underneath each other. You give him an expectant look, sitting in anticipation and wondering why he's here.

You watch as his eyes roam your apartment, and you start to play with a loose string on your shorts. He looks over at your desk and notices all the papers and books you tried to organize in a rush, "Studying?" He asks to break the silence.

"Yeah, I have exams coming up," you answer quickly as you start to play with the hem of your shirt.

Your eyes rake over his form; it's strange seeing him like this so casually in your home, but it also makes you feel warm inside. It has you thinking about what it would be like if he were here more often—what it would be like if you were together.

"That's why I haven't been seeing you around," he leans back further into the couch.

"Why are you here, Issei?" Your impatience seeps into your words, wanting him to get straight to the point.

He lets out a breathy laugh, "I thought a lot about what you said in the car." He spreads an arm across the back of the couch.

Your ears perk and you're leaning in closer, eager to hear what he has to say, "And?"

"I want you to get to know me. I'll let you." He turns to face you, "But, I just want to make sure that this is what you want."

You lock your eyes with his. "I do want this—so much." You crawl closer towards him and take his hand into both of yours,

He smiles as he looks down at where your hands meet, "Alright, sweetheart. If that's how you want it."

Time seems to still as you both sit together on the couch, talking through the night. He lets you in and answers each question you have honestly and openly.

He opens up about how his days have gotten brighter since meeting you, and how it took your absence the past couple weeks to realize how much he truly missed you.

He also tells you about his son from a past relationship whom he sees every so often. Not really unexpected, but you’re still surprised. He seemed apprehensive while telling you, but you assured him that it was fine and that it doesn’t change things.

You enjoyed the stories about his high school days the most, both laughing together on the couch about the antics of his old volleyball team.

You both agree to give things a try, and that if it didn’t work out, it would be okay.

You let out a yawn. Currently, you’re secured underneath Issei’s arm. You press your cheek further into his chest as you slide your palm across his abdomen, wrapping your arm around.

“I think I should head out, it’s getting late.” He gives your shoulder a light squeeze.

You're comfortable and could honestly fall asleep laying on him like this, but you reluctantly untangle yourself and slowly sit up with a tired pout.

He laughs lightly, "Don't make that face, I'll come by again." He stands up and makes his way towards the door.

You follow and lean a shoulder against the wall, watching as he puts his shoes on. "Thanks for coming and giving this a chance," you say with a grateful smile.

"Glad I did, goodnight," he says with a slight upturn of his lips and he moves to unlock the door.

Too soon. Without thinking, you reach out for his hand and you're pulling him back.

He turns and gives you that teasing look, "Yes?" Voice filled with amused surprise as he watches you.

You take a few steps forward as a light shudder runs through your body from the cold tile biting at the soles of your feet. Closing the space in between your bodies, your arms wrap tightly around his waist and you bury your face into his black dress shirt.

His expression softens. "You're not making this any easier," he whispers out into the darkened apartment as he brings a hand up to cradle your head, while his other palm splays across your lower back.

You know you're not making things easier. But, you finally have him right here in front of you, so how can you not hold him just once more.

His touch has you pushing your body further into him; the swell of your breasts pressing flush against his chest. You lift your face and you meet his eyes as he stares down at you, and there's a pull that you're sure he feels too because his face keeps inching closer.

Your eyes shift to his parted lips, too mesmerized to look away and you're staring until you no longer can—faces now just millimeters away from touching. This moment feels right, so your eyes flutter shut and you close the distance, crashing your mouth onto his.

You can feel him apply more pressure to the back of your head, deepening the kiss and angling you to his liking, while his other hand slips underneath your shirt—calloused fingertips ghosting over your bare back, causing a sweet moan to slip past your lips.

Eager hands slide up the crisp material of his dress shirt, palms smoothing over his hard chest until your arms wrap around his neck. He takes a step forward, pushing you up against the wall and slotting his thigh between your legs. There's an audible thud at the impact and a sharp rattle from the frames shaking on the wall.

You let out a surprised gasp, and he uses this as an opportunity to slip his past your lips, your own tongue welcoming the intrusion. The sudden roughness was not expected, but it's entirely welcomed, and the way you're squeezing around his thigh is proof enough.

You feel his hand lightly brush over the side of your breast and you whimper at the contact, supple thighs rubbing together, while your fingers intertwine with his locks.

You feel him smirk against your mouth before he slowly breaks the kiss and pulls away.

"H—Hey, wait," you try to protest by bringing him down by the neck, but he doesn't budge. "You're being mean," you exclaim with a frustrated huff as you grip onto the front of his dress shirt, standing on your toes with eyes pleading with him to continue.

He laughs out, "I know you're eager, but I should get going. Get some rest and I promise I'll be back once you're done with finals." He wraps his hands around each of your wrists, and your grip loosens while you watch his grin fall into place.

He takes a few steps back, but his eyes continue to shamelessly devour you—disheveled hair, straps from your camisole hanging loosely off your shoulders, swollen parted lips, and eyes that look just as hungry as his.

With a lazy smirk, he clicks his tongue. "Aren't you just precious? Also, you started it, so who's the mean one, sweetheart?" He keens, eyes darkening.

It's the way he's staring down with that expression—hooded eyes with a darkening glint that starts to stir something inside of you. He watches as you start to suck on the bottom of your lip, and he swallows—hard.

You fix yourself and pull your straps back up. "O—Okay. Fine," you say meekly as your arms hug around your torso.

His eyes soften and he leans in to press his lips against your cheek, tufts of his hair tickling your forehead. “Goodnight,” he whispers next to your ear, before stepping through the door.

═ ❀ ═

It's currently the middle of summer break; your exams have been long completed, giving you ample time to develop your relationship with Issei. The last two months were spent learning about one another in the most intimate ways.

You've made a difference in his life, a true joy is what he describes it as. Having to work at a place surrounded by death and mourning does take a toll on a person after so many years. Just having someone to come home to and to care for brings him the comfort that he didn't realize he's missed.

For you specifically, he’s shown you respect and maturity—something that you haven’t had much luck with in your past relationships. He understands you, and offers guidance and support whenever you need.

You learn that he isn't the most romantic, which is fine because he makes sure to show his affection through other gestures. Giving you his undivided attention and conveying his care through physical touch are the biggest things that you notice with him.

His touch makes you feel safe and secure, whether that be from his arm slinging across your shoulders, his fingers caressing your cheek, his chest pressed against your back, or his hands gripping your hips as he fucks you.

Going on late-night car drives quickly becomes one of your favourite ways of spending time with each other. He always makes sure to have one hand on the wheel with the other placed lovingly on your thigh, giving you squeezes of reassurance.

Sometimes, his fingers would start to caress and massage, his seemingly innocent touches turning into something more—boldly inching higher before pulling away and teasing you for being so cute.

He comes by most days after work and you see him some weekends, making sure to spend the night at each other's places.

Nights are easier now that Issei has you to fall asleep to almost every night, the hard part is keeping his hands to himself—fighting the urge to run his hands over your body and appreciate every dip, bump, and curve to show you just how much he cares. Clad in nothing but your underwear and an oversized shirt, and with you looking so pretty next to him as you sleep, it's no wonder he has a difficult time.

"Hm?" You groggily breathe out.

You’re gently roused to the feel of Issei’s lips plush against the back of your neck, gentle kisses being placed against your skin. The feeling can only be described as soft and slow, but you’re well aware of how much something as simple as this can escalate.

"Stay still for me, sweetheart," he whispers next to your ear.

"What are—ah!" You stop when he clasps his fingers around your throat, pulling your back into his chest.

He takes a lobe between his teeth, nipping and sucking at the tiny bit of skin, while his other hand smooths over your ass, fingers toying with the delicate lace of your underwear.

"Relax for me and I'll take care of you, yeah?" He breathes into your neck, the feathery murmur of his lips against you sends a shudder down your back.

“Mhm,” you eagerly nod, relaxing your body against his touch.

His grip on your throat is tame, but you know just how hard those hands can squeeze if you needed to be put into place.

“I really like these,” it comes out breathy as he continues to play with the thin material, and he punctuates the last word by sharply pulling your underwear down, losing them somewhere underneath the thick sheets.

A large rough hand traces up the back of your thigh, calloused palms leaving warm tingles along your skin as he goes, and he takes a handful of your ass, slowly squeezing and kneading as he pleases. He presses his face into the junction of your neck and inhales deeply before his lips start to gently suck, your soft and pretty whimpers of bliss encouraging him to give you more.

His hand moves closer to your already slick folds, and you’re arching yourself back, aching for his touch. He knows how needy you get once he gets everything started, so how can he deny you? He hooks his hand underneath your knee, bringing your leg back over his hip, spreading you apart.

That same hand slides underneath the loose shirt you're wearing, calluses tickling up your front until there's a firm grope at your tit—perk nipples hardening under his generous touch. His hands are restless, making sure to cover every inch of your skin, his own need thick and evident in each squeeze and caress.

His hand comes back to where you need it most, two fingers slide through your cunt, his grip on your neck tightening as he does. "Issei," you moan as your lips part, your breathing turning into tiny pants.

He continues to tease through your folds, gathering your arousal and messily spreading it over your cunt and all over his fingers. "So wet," he breathes a deep purr before pressing a long kiss to your temple.

Those two fingers are pressing against your entrance, slowly pushing inside. You're immediately pulling him in, slick walls easily accommodating the welcome intrusion.

The pace starts off quick and he’s soon going faster and harder, the sound of his palm repeatedly slapping your ass as he fingers you, rocking your body as he prods exactly where you need it.

"Ah! Issei, fuck!" He rips a pleasured scream from your lungs, your own shaky hands shooting up and grabbing the forearm of the hand that's wrapped around your neck, nails digging into his skin as you hold on.

He’s pushing and stroking in places that he knows will ignite that toe-curling orgasm, while the repeated aching throb from your cunt squeezes around his thick fingers with each expert flick of his wrist. He knows your body too well at this point, never once did he ever disappoint and leave you unsatisfied—unless you've given him reason to, but tonight is all about you.

“Such a pretty voice,” he coos, adoring the way you turn into such a pliant little mess whenever you're under his heavy touch. He smirks into your neck, "Let's hear it, sweetheart," he encourages with laid-back confidence.

You can feel it, the soft pressure starting to pool the more he stuffs you full, and there's no way he's stopping until it overflows. "Cum."

You're right on time, the hold on your throat loosens, a dizzying rush and mind-blanking release ensuing. Your body writhes, straining against the iron grasp he has on your body, but he doesn't let you go. He hugs you closer and continues to push against your convulsing walls, your slick spilling and flooding his hand.

Every orgasm he pulls from you feels like the rest of your energy is being drawn out alongside it. You're tired, but you know he isn't finished with you yet.

"Beautiful, as always." He pulls out and brings his hand up, tapping the stickiness of his fingers against your lips, "Open up."

The rhythmic tap stirs you and you mindlessly comply, taking in his digits, while you hungrily suck and lap at your arousal. "Fuck," he groans, his cock throbbing against the curve of your ass. "I'll give your pretty little pussy a break for tonight, use your mouth instead."

The size of his cock alone usually has you walking with a slight limp for days, the delicious burn always there no matter how many times he fucks you.

Slowly, you push yourself down, hands trailing his torso as you do, and your mouth watering from the sheer thought of soon having your lips wrapped around his girthy cock.

Light fingers trace up his hardened length before softly grasping him with both hands. “Hmm,” you hum sweetly, cheek pressing against his thigh, admiring his cock and wondering how you were able to fit him into you all those times. “So big.”

He laughs, a swell of pride booming from his chest. “I’m not finished with you, come straddle my face.” He caresses your cheek, smoothing hair out of the way.

Once you settle yourself, his arms hug around the lower dip of your back, locking you into place. Without hesitation, he’s lapping at your slick folds, face pressing tightly against the swell of your cunt and ass. He’s slow, but his tongue is deliberate and heavy—the position of your bodies obscene.

You’re gasping, rutting yourself down onto his face, slippery wetness seeping out the corners of his mouth. There’s hot breaths of your pleasure fanning over his cock, while he achingly throbs against your touch, beckoning you to take him in.

A fat bead of precum adorns his tip, your quick tongue impatiently licking it off with a precise flick. The tiny motion elicits a deep moan from Issei, lips vibrating against your cunt; he smothers more of his mouth and tongue into you. You let out a mewl, the rest of your sweet noises lost onto his cock as you begin to take him in.

Tears prick the corners of tightly shut lids and you try to suppress the urge to gag, but that’s impossible—he’s much too large. Your throat constricts each time more of his cock is shoved further into your mouth and he shows his satisfaction by stuffing more of his face into your slick folds, settling on harshly sucking on your engorged clit.

Your mind stutters, roughly pulling his cock out of your mouth, “Too much, too much!” You seethe and rest your wet cheek onto his thigh, trying to control your breathing from the overwhelming stimulation.

He hisses, lips come off your clit with an audible plop. Your hand continues to sloppily stroke his length, your thumb brushing over the thick veins.

He palms each of his hands onto your ass and spreads you apart. “How messy. You like this, just look at you.” His right hand comes up and he lands a slap onto your ass—hard and heavy. “Keep going, sweetheart.”

You yelp at the impact. The sharp sting threatens tears to spill, but he smooths over the abused flesh lovingly—a soothing hush to the pain. Once again, you take his cock into your mouth, your hand stroking what your mouth can’t accommodate.

“That’s it, good fucking girl,” he grits between clenched teeth, fighting his hips from thrusting into your poor mouth because he knows that would end you. Instead, he opts to bury his face back into your sweet folds, fucking you with is tongue and getting drunk off your muffled moans.

His cock twitches with every wet stroke and he's closer to release with every tight-lipped drag along his length. He moans, deep and feral; he breathes, laboured and harsh—all of this being felt straight onto your quivering holes, while your slick drips over his face.

Your hips sway in tune with his tongue, a perfect dance made just for you, and the song you produce only for him. A tight swirl over your clit, has you screaming—or whatever noise you manage to make with his thick cock down your throat. The shrill feel has him emptying his cum into your mouth with a groan, the warm fluid spilling seeping out of your lips and dripping over his balls and thighs. Through your orgasm, Issei moulds his face in between your legs while his hands grip onto your ass, feeling your body convulse.

He waits for your body to relax, “C’mere sweetheart, you did well.”

Shakily, you crawl back to him, your legs feel heavy with each drag of your knees against the sheets. He pushes you hard because he knows you can take it, but you know he never goes too far. Collapsing onto his chest, you sigh with content.

Right now in your own little world, the opinions or judgment of others don’t seem to be as big or as loud. This love feels wild, yet reassuring; it feels like home, but also everywhere at once—it feels right and that’s all you both can ever ask for.

DO NOT PLAGIARIZE & DO NOT REPOST

if you enjoyed, a like or reblog is always welcome !

tagging: @suedebunn

#reina.writes💕#dilf collab!!#matsukawa.issei #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa x you #matsukawa issei smut #matsukawa smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #tw smoking #tw dilf #tw age gap #tw age difference #tw impact play #tw hair pulling #tw death mention #tw overstimulation #lewdz🍑#tw assault

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starshipsofstarlord · 2 years

Text

The Baby Factor

Summary: You want a baby, but there are multiple things that can get in the way of a decision like that. The lack of a sperm donor, men, friends, secrets. (This is Part One of a new series so there will be more parts, no need to enquire about it).

Fandom: Marvel (MCU/AU)

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eros x Female Reader, mentions of Peggy x Steve x Sharon (and possibly more pairings later in the series!)

Warnings: mentions of sex, talk of having a baby, the word sperm (since sperm donors and stuff duh), blackmail, fake dating, real dating, mentions of secrets, alcohol consumption, brief talk of violence, talk of breakups and long distance relationships, fluff, awkward and cute Bucky (he is a warning!), lady killer Eros, flirting, lying

Word Count: 3316 (I haven’t wrote anything this long in ages)

Masterlist Link

Necessarily you didn't know Bucky Barnes too well, he was just the batch of beef that followed your friend Steve Rogers everywhere since they reunited. Delicious, jaw dropping, stunning beef may I add to the description. He wasn't doing much with his life, he was just idly getting by and had just finished therapy, Nat had even dragged you to the small party in concur of the celebration since he didn't have many other friends. The two of you were alike in that department, both new to the group of brilliant minded and humorous people. Though there was one thing that was not obvious for any of them to expect from simply looking at you; you wanted a baby. Just to be a mother to a child you had birthed was the dream, no longer did you think about happy families, a family did not need two partners. All that was crucial was for somebody to get you pregnant, the good old fashioned way was preferred as it would be scarcely cheaper and you prayed for the process to be less time consuming. The problem? You still had yet to have decided on a sperm donor, not to mention that it was a strange thing to outright ask somebody.

You were in your thirties, and every minute that was gong past meant less time you were able to conceive a child. Sure it was a healthy age, but after this decade of your life was over, the less chance there would be. The entire circumstance was ravenously driving you mad, Tony had offered to give you the money to get inseminated in the sperm bank, however if that was the route that you wanted to go down, then you'd rather have summed up the money yourself, rather than feel indebted for getting pregnant. Only two people knew of your plan - Tony and Nat, and it would stay that way until you finally asked someone the question that you were dying to ask someone. The one thing through your journey so far that you had realised was that you wanted to know the father of your child, see his mindset, his appearance, know about his own history so you could we how each detail of him conjoined into the child's form and made them who they were. It wasn't an easy favour to ask someone however, you still had to dictate your choice which would be unfathomably hard; not everyone wanted a child, or to know they had one, and then there was the endurance of actually getting pregnant which when you were trying was known to be more difficult than some drunken one night stand where you'd end up knocked up nevertheless.

Steve came to accompany you at your side, there was a glass of water in his hand, and he reached out to put it in your own grasp. "You look deep in thought over here kid, thought I'd just check in." He always called you kid, you weren't sure why when you were only a couple years younger than him but you never paid it much attention. After all this time knowing him, it was normal. In college it had just been you, Nat, Steve, Tony, Bruce and Thor, and now the lot of you were all grown up, getting your lives together and starting your futures that would stick with you for the rest of your lives. Some people made no attentive differences in their lifestyles, surviving on minimum wage and cheap beer was how most got by, except for Tony of course, but you had made a significant decision. You knew what you wanted, and though you weren't keen on waiting any longer it was the easiest and most sensible thing that you could do. Taking a sip out of the glass, you were joyous to discover that it was really only water than vodka, both were clear and see through, as was your posture in the corner to your blond friend. Nodding when you finished you gulp, your nails tapped on the glass, creating back ground noise to your overly loud thoughts.

"If Sharon was here she'd scratch your eyes out for so much as talking to me." Ah yes Sharon Carter, his crazy and possessive girlfriend. You'd always preferred Steve with her cousins Peggy, he had met her on a college transfer to England, she had even stayed in Brooklyn for a while but the distance split them apart, and missing each other every second of every day just wasn't fair for them. And then in the midst of their breakup he had spent much time alone until Sharon came into the picture, he could do so much better, but he had fallen under her cynical spell and there was no saving him nor avenging his freedom. Steve laughed lightly and rolled his eyes at your naivety, putting a large and warm hand atop of your shoulder; it was always a lovely sound to hear, it was better than serious Steve that gave lectures i the gymnasium of schools when he filled in for Fury the teacher. "Y/n..." he had you on a hook as you awaited for him to finish speaking, raising your brow. A smile was on his face, one that you hadn't seen in a long time, and it all made sense as he finished speaking. "We broke up. Albeit she was cheating on me with Brock, she's living with him now, that said Sam and Buck are beyond pleased, I'd say they're happier than me. They hated her."

"I think we all did." You laughed simultaneously with him, until the sound of footsteps captured your attention. They were heavy and paced, and as you looked up you had to stop your jaw from dropping, it was the man of the hour, James Buchanan Barnes himself. He smiled shyly at you, there was a glass bottle in his hand, the metal one, and Steve could only pull his friend closer. "What're we talking about?" Bucky asked, and you found confidence in yourself to answer in place of Steve. "Sharon." You stated simply, and instantly a grimace covered his features causing you and Steven Grant Rogers to burst out in laughter again. It wasn't so hard to speak to him, but this was normal conversation, which you could have with any guy. Why was asking someone, whoever your choice may be, to have impregnate you without having to be tied down with a parental role, so hard? Bucky shook his head at you, clicking his tongue lightly before downing the rest of his beer. "Steve do you, um-" Steve surrendered his hands high as he patted his comrade on the shoulder before walking away, leaving the two of you alone.

"Hi." It was now just you and Bucky, he was the first to speak, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip a little as he adjusted his weight from foot to foot a few times. "Hey." You responded softly in return, a smile stretched along your face as the pair of you openly gazed into the others eyes. There was definitely mutual attraction, you thought. Bucky didn't just stare at any women, in fact he often avoided women due to them having hurt him a lot in the past, sometimes he'd peruse through the bars but he'd never stick to his desire to take anyone home, he was stuck in his old ways of distancing himself by avoiding anything that could so much as scathe his feelings. "I've, um, wanted to speak to you one on one for a while, we haven't really had much chance to get to know each other." At that you could feel your heart racing phonemically in your chest, rattling inside of the cage of your chest, the sound reverberating in your ears like thunder coursing through each individual blood vessel. "Steve said to me that you've been single for a while, and I have too, and so, I was uh wondering if you'd maybe, I don't know, want to go on a date with me?" His fingers scratched at his scruff, exhibiting that he was feeling slightly nervous as he awaited for your answer. You'd have loved to have said yes but given your circumstances it'd have been rather strange, however you couldn't turn him down, his baby blue eyes were practically begging you to agree to go out with him.

"I'd love to." There was so much you wanted to know about him, more than what Steve had told you, or the snarky remarks that Sam would pry him with now and again. A goofy smile wandered onto his lips as he breathed out a large breath, he surrendered to the notion of his nerves fading away. "You can get my number off the group chat, right? I mean so long as you don't put our plans on there otherwise Stark may pay our bill and have a secret army following us. And trust me he would, he's crashed plenty of my dates in the past, and Thor always accompanies him which doesn't exactly make their dream team inconspicuous." He laughed as he scratched the back of his neck; he knew exactly where he was going to take you, Coney Island, he and Steve always went as kids, he loved it there and whilst the option may have not been some perfect dinner date, he was aware that you always liked to occupy yourself with something, he was certain you had a self project in the works right in the moment, and he wouldn't ask what it was in order to respect your privacy, but he could not help but be intrigued by the mystery of your thoughts.

The rest of the night went by without an issue, smoothly. Nat went home with you and you both sat in your room, changed out of your casual dresses into pyjamas that brought a sleepiness to your state of which the alcohol probably didn't help with that. She now thought you were mad, but had made a prime suggestion to which you weren't completely opposed to. "If you want a sperm donor why don't you just ask Barnes?" You weren't overly certain if the redhead was being overly serious or not, but it made you think a lot about that scenario. He was possibly an option, though as you sat in your room mulling over the idea, your roommate Eros without disdain wandered into your private space, causing you to roll your eyes. Your mind swapped from Bucky and the date that the two of you would be going on soon to the red headed narcissist who had no respect for privacy, he was a gentleman like Bucky was, however their perspectives were far different, as were their personalities. The two of you got along most of the time, sometimes things such as his current intrusion was one thing that diverted that however. "Hey pretty girl, I was hoping I could pick your brain with a favour..." Nat raised his brow, she had never met him before, he shot her a wink before returning his attention back to you, taking a couple of steps closer. "I mean if this is a bad time I could always ask you later, but I'm kind of running out of time, so could I pinch you for a second?"

"Anything you want to say you can say in front of my friend, whatever crap it is I'll probably tell her afterwards anyway." Curtly he nodded. You were spouting the truth anyways, she already knew of the unison of time that you'd be spending with Bucky alone, which in foresight was why she had mentioned him being your donor. Though you wouldn't rush into anything, if any man didn't want to, then they didn't have to stick around as a father, that was not their duty. To be a mother would be a lifelong miracle that you wanted now! If any suitor of yours had a problem with you wanting a child, it firstly did not have to be with them, and secondly, they could always find someone else that did not have intentions to get pregnant. Eros took it upon himself via your instructions to continue speaking, after living with him for a few months you'd found him to be quite chatty, he was one that liked conversation. You liked that, it made you feel less lonely within the walls that you lived. "My brother Thanos is coming into town, and I may or may not have said that I have a girlfriend. And I need you to pretend to be said person, please." He was desperate for you to agree to his terms and conditions, though from what he had already spoke Natasha could not hold it in to remark her pure mindset. He took a couple of courageous steps forward, getting a better perspective of the frown that framed your features; you were already reacting better than he had expected though he knew that soon there was the possibility of that changing with the more that he talked.

"Does your entire family have weird names or are you guys aliens or something?" Natasha snorted out of the opposer of courteously, Eros rolled his eyes at your friend, you had enquired about a similar question when the pair of you had first met. He remembered the event in the timeline like yesterday, he was surprised to see such a beautiful specimen in the place that he would be paying to stay in each month as rent was a demand, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't try his luck with you, but you denied all of his trials and errors since you claimed that you wanted to live under normal circumstances with your flatmate rather than sexual ones. And with that said tension between the pair of you remained, though his favourite evenings were spent whilst the pair of you watched television, rom coms on Netflix specifically, where the duet of you and him would be sat on the small couch. Sometimes you fell asleep, with your head resting comfortably one his shoulder, and Eros dared not move a muscle, scared that if he did the solace that he was experiencing for a limited amount of time would end shortly. "And why should I do this roomie? I'm sure you have no problem getting girls, you practically get room service for them each night, so why not use one of them? I'm sure you could settle on rather acceptable payment that you'd enjoy also for them, however I'm not like them, we have very large difference, I'm not interested in you like that." You enquired suitably, crossing your arms to eventuate how unimpressed you really were with the damage that he had already done.

"Because... I may or may not have said that I'm already dating you; the descriptions were rather on point, and I said that we're living together which is not a lie. And I also sent him that video of you being high in our bathroom, so I guess I could say that I won't release that to anyone else?" Was he really blackmailing you right now? It was in a very Eros fashion, it wasn't anything particularly serious at least you wouldn't say so, however you didn't want that video getting out to anyone, your reputation would crumble to decimal pieces - it was private, and caused you to dramatically sigh, again when Natasha decided to pipe up and remind you that she was there also. "Now that I would pay to see." Nat said in reference in the video, her emerald eyes were flickering back and forth between you and your roommate, the chemistry between the pair of you was undeniable. It made her smile to herself, you were so oblivious to the connection, all the redhead wanted was for you to be happy. Though the way to be was for you to have a child rather than take up a lover, and that was okay, she just hoped that you found your solace soon without any more distractions ruining your private schemes.

"Well nobody is going to see it, because I guess I'm going to have to accept your offer Eros, and you better stay true to your word, otherwise we're going to have a rather huge problem here." Your brow quirked up at him, a dimple pronounced smile playing on his cheeks as he nodded at you, staring at you with his green eyes a moment longer, before evacuating your room, allowing you to regain your privacy. He even shut the door, his manners were already uplifting since he had done the reverse to gain your attention. Gulping you ogled at the ground for a second, Nat found a strangeness obliterating your gaze and thus the woman snapped her fingers. "What's really on that video y/n?" She didn't know Eros, in fact it was the first time that she had even seen him in person, occasionally his face would pop up on suggested friends on Facebook, but she'd never in person interacted with the man, and she wasn't sure if she liked him or not. The blackmail was something that she couldn't quite make up an opinion on, she would have to stick around a bit longer if she intended to do that. "There is a video of me getting high in the bathroom, but I know he's not referencing that one... There's another, and I know he wouldn't actually send it to anyone, not even Thanos who doesn't know me, but that's a risk that I can't take." Your chin dropped as you brushed the hair out of your face, your fists clenching tightly by your sides; there were things that Eros knew that others didn't have the privilege to, and if a single soul uncovered your secret, especially Bucky, everything would be ruined. You weren't sure anybody would trust you again.

Even if you divulged the truth to Nat, she would never look at you the same - everything would be a grand mess, you may as well burn the world down and start over, because you'd lose everything. "Then I'll help you, and make this lie believable. I may not know what this thing that you want to hide is, but I'm your best friend, and I will do anything that means that you are protected." All that you could do was pull your old friend into a sensual hug, this was why you appreciated her, she was one of the most loyal people that you'd ever had the chance of knowing. So now you were to go on a date with the Bucky Barnes that was weaving his way around your social circle, and allegedly dating Eros your roommate. Everything was occurring at once, simultaneously making your life more complex than it already was, hence why you wanted a child rather than a partner. It was someone to protect instead of be protected by, because every man or woman that had tried to keep you safe always got hurt, your legacy wasn't to live on through memories, instead it'd have been through a creation of your own, someone that you'd love forever no matter the mistakes that they made in the journey of survival. The world was vastly cruel, yet it was within your every intention to bring some reason to continue living in it to your life. Even the thought of having a child made your heart flutter as though a thousand leaves had been raised off the ground but the autumnal wind, and that was how you knew that was the right path for you to take, all you needed was for someone to help you paint that picture, and you had yet to discover who that person was to be.

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bookishofalder · 3 years

Text

Little Part One

Summary: Santi holds his feelings back for you, protecting you from his darkness.

Warnings: Language, angst, Tom Davis being a dick, body image talk, mentions of smut. WC—+5K.

A/N: I imagine the reader dressing like she shops at ModCloth, unless she’s in sweats.

Santi hadn’t taken the job in Columbia because of you.

He had wanted to, probably should have if he was honest with himself. He would have been about three years in by now if he had. Instead, he’d taken the job at a security firm that had sought him out because it was comfortable. Paid well enough too, but it wasn’t exactly exciting.

He’d never admit it aloud, but it had been the look on your face that had made him reconsider, back when he told you and the guys about the offer. Your expression had fallen as he spoke, and then you’d fixed a fake smile on your pretty face and told him you’d miss him if he did go. He’d been intending to accept—he was still in decent shape, had all of his certifications, and there was that call to duty as well, that need to make a difference.

And then you’d frowned, and he realized it would mean not seeing or speaking to you again for a very long time. Santi kept you at arms-length, so there wouldn’t be phone calls or emails, he would have to rely on your brothers to let him know how you were doing. While Will never stopped talking proudly about you, he’s sure if he asked how you were his friends would be suspicious.

Pope and Little? Yeah, they tolerate each other, they're friendly enough.

Frankie had figured Santi out pretty quickly after he announced he was staying. Showed up on his doorstep with a case of beers and let him gripe about life while they watched a baseball game. He’d told Santi to consider exploring things between you, give it a chance and see if you might be interested. He’d thanked his friend for the advice, but declined—you could never know how he felt.

But you’re staying because of her, man.

Yeah, doesn’t matter, Fish. Doesn’t fucking matter.

And fuck, if you weren’t the sweetest person he’d ever known; bright and bubbly where Santi was darkness and frown lines and hidden rage. You held a lot of passion for life, and sometimes it annoyed him, for no good reason. Maybe he was jealous he couldn’t bring himself to be as happy as you. Probably it was because he wished he were the one who made you feel that way, rather than putting up the damn wall and refusing to let you in. You were always kind to Santi, friendly and inclusive, but he sensed the distance, the hesitation.

He hadn’t known you before, when he and the guys served together—you had been away at school as you were much younger than your brothers, who were nearly out of the house by the time you hit grade school. You came back the year before he got the job offer for Columbia, fresh out of college, secured a comfortable job for the stiffs downtown, working nine-to-five at City Hall; a job that came with vacation time and team socials and benefits.

You were all softness and kindness where your brothers were sharp-edged and rough, and they fucking adored you. Despite the age gap, you were close with them, still lived with them in the house you’d all grown up in. Santi started to see you all the time, and fuck if he didn’t fall for you fast and hard.

And then he’d stayed, and he hates how much he loves you. It didn’t seem healthy to feel this strongly, to be equally torn when you’d appear with your brothers between joy and fear, longing and anger. Four years now of watching you casually date, getting drunk a few times from the misery of seeing you with a guy who lasted a little longer, long enough to come out to their usual bar with the group. Knowing he would put his hands on you, kiss you, do all of the things Santi refused to allow himself to imagine because what good did that do.

You hadn’t had a serious relationship in the time since he’d met you, and he wondered if it was because of your brothers—they weren’t overbearing or controlling in any sense, but they freely gave their opinions, and maybe you wouldn’t settle down with someone unless they were up to scruff. Maybe Benny scared them off with his big mouth, or Will intimidated them with his quiet, protective nature.

Santi wanted you to be happy, but it didn’t stop the thrill every time you were single again.

He was an asshole, that much he could admit. The thing was, he had a bond with his friends—Benny and Will, Tom and Frankie, they were his brothers, they served in the Special Forces together and that relationship had long been established, before he ever met you. He couldn’t pull away from them any more than he could move past his feelings for you.

So instead, he tried to ignore how hard he’d fallen and let himself suffer because just a little of you went a long way for Santi. He could survive on the polite laughs and the half-hearted hugs and the friendly enough greetings because that was what he allowed himself, ever the soldier—he could persevere. And if it became too much, he’d take out his frustrations on a woman who looked nothing like you, making her see stars—see God, as they joked—during a casual one-night stand. Lose himself in the moment, in the arms of a stranger.

That was life, now; he’d made his bed and this was him laying in it. He could at least credit himself for being unselfish, his forced distance between him and you there for your protection. Protection from Santi and his darkness. The trauma and pain and bad thoughts. Damaged goods, as his last ex had so directly said to him. Too fucked up in the head for love and domesticity.

Too fucked up.

Maybe he should have gone to Columbia.

—

The Birthday

It was your birthday. Santi always felt especially old on your birthday, the fifteen-year age gap never more blatant, a reminder that his choice to hold his feelings back was always the right one. He wished he could just send you a text, a card in the mail, but you wanted him at your party.

It was a little thing, him and the guys gathering at the Miller house. Santi questioned it when Benny invited him. He said the same as he was now, as they stood in the kitchen unloading their haul from the liquor store. “Told you, Pope, she did a chick-brunch thing this morning with her friends. She’s at the spa now, getting a massage. Then she just wants a low-key night, bonfire, beers, barbecue.” Benny shrugged, unbothered—you never wanted a big event on your birthdays.

“I just don’t get it,” Santi replied, shaking his head, “What’s she want to spend time with us old fucks for?” He crushed the beer box for recycling, eyes raising to watch Will walk inside from the backyard. He was wearing an apron that had his nickname stitched to the front in a frilly pattern; a gag gift from you.

“Who you calling an old fuck?” He grunted, rinsing his hands at the sink. The kitchen was nice, all white marble and warm barn wood flooring. When your parents retired, they moved to Florida and left the house to the three of you. Santi had been impressed with how well you’d renovated it, Will and Benny doing most of the work themselves while you had picked out the colours, tiles, everything. When they’d been given the grand tour two years ago, Santi had to bite back his praise for your taste. He’d instead simply agreed with Frankie when he’d said it looked incredible.

“All of us, man,” Santi sawed a hand over the stubble on his jaw, “I don’t get why Little wants to spend her birthday with us, every year it’s the same.”

Will rolled his eyes, “You don’t try to understand her, Pope, that’s your problem. If you paid attention you’d see she adores you, and Fish.”

Benny chuckled, “Not so much Tom, that’s more like a love-hate friendship.”

Santi frowned between them as they laughed together. Of course, you were sweet with Frankie, you even babysit for him sometimes, labelling yourself as baby Rosie’s favourite Auntie. Things didn’t work out with him and Elena, the baby’s mother, but they were still friends and shared custody. You’d stayed on his couch a few times, at first, when he was learning how to be alone with Rosie, to support him. He’d told Santi you’d been his rock, that you were wiser than your age should allow.

Frankie had told him he was an idiot for choosing not to tell you how he felt. Santi had only agreed, even if it didn’t sway him in the least.

But with him, you weren’t quite like that—not as close, thanks to his efforts, but still kind. Still sweet. When he’d had the surgery on his neck last year, you’d shown up with Benny to drop off food, checked over his post-operation notes to ensure he was following the instructions, taking the painkillers. He knew you brought Benny as the buffer, the safety net because you sensed that distance he’d established, even if neither of you spoke of it.

For Will to claim you adored him, though, was a stretch. Probably he just didn’t pay enough attention to how you interacted with Santi, who shrugged in response as Will glanced toward his phone. “Frankie’s just picked her up from the spa, they’ll be here in ten.”

The kitchen had been sparsely decorated for your birthday on purpose. He glanced around now, smiling to himself over the Office theme—brown, silver and black balloons only partially inflated, with a banner hanging off the kitchen island that said ‘It is your birthday'. He hoped you liked it.

He told the other’s not to mention it was his idea.

“Where the fuck is Redfly?” Benny asked before taking out his phone to check his messages, “He was supposed to be here by now with the cake.”

Santi snorted, “He’s definitely flirting with the owner-he can’t help himself, since Molly left.”

“No shit,” Benny agreed, sending Tom a text to hurry up. “He’s such a dick, not sure how he’s getting so lucky all the time.”

Will slapped Benny on the shoulder, laughing, “He’s just handsome enough to get away with it, like Pope here.” His friend's blue eyes, two identical pairs, landed on Santi as they smirked and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m clearly the romantic of our group,” He snarked, and they all laughed before the sound of a truck pulling in the driveway caught their attention. Santi went to the front door and peeked out; it was Tom, who had now jumped out of the truck and was grabbing the cake from the front passenger seat.

Santi opened the door, “Cutting it close, Red.”

Tom hurried toward him, “Sorry, I know. The baker, Sasha? She’s cute. I got her number.” He grinned at Santi, who stepped aside to let him in the door, biting back his amusement.

—

At its inception, your nickname came from your brothers in a teasing attempt at cruelty when you were kids. Over the years, though, it became more of a term of endearment that was warm and affectionate, used by anyone lucky enough to call you a friend. The youngest Miller, you both did and did not look like your brothers in that funny way siblings could.

The nickname did not accurately describe you physically, nor was it ever the intention of it. If Santi could call you anything, it would be divine. He thinks you’d be considered mid-sized, as you were short but curvy in the best sort of way. You had wide hips and a full chest, your ample cleavage always accentuated, never hidden. You knew how to dress to flaunt your curves, and he admires you for, as you’d once said to him, ‘saying fuck you to typical beauty standards’ and accepting yourself for what you were.

Curvy, plus-sized, mid-sized, whatever. Fuck if every inch of you didn’t turn Santi on, if your confidence didn’t shatter him when you laughed over someone calling you fat. Like fat was a bad word, as if being anything other than skinny as a woman was a crime. You were beautiful, just as you were, whether you were dressed fashionably or more casual like tonight.

He would never understand how anyone could look at you and think that you were anything short of divine.

You were wearing high-waisted, light wash jeans tonight with one of Benny’s old shirts that you’d cropped shorter so that when you stood he could see a sliver of skin, your round ass perfectly highlighted. Santi was actively working not to stare, as you bent over across from him, passing Frankie an ice pack with a sad little frown.

Benny had wanted to yell ‘surprise!’ When you arrived home with Frankie twenty minutes before, despite the fact you knew they were all there for your birthday. He’d successfully managed to scare the ever-loving shit out of you, and they’d all laughed pretty hard when you jumped backwards, the top of your head colliding with Frankie’s chin in the process.

The thing about you was you had this big heart that always came first, over your own needs. So Frankie being mildly injured was now your main focus, even as Fish waved you away with a smile.

“Jesus Christ, Little, you know I’ve been in live combat, right?” He chuckled, pressing the ice pack to his chin carefully.

You plopped down on the couch next to Frankie, eyes wide with worry, “I know, all of you are very tough men—still, I’m so sorry—”

“Little, stop babying Frankie,” Benny called as he walked in from the backyard, where he, Tom and Will had been setting up the patio table with food. “Come on, foods ready honey.”

While the others thought your worrying was sweet, Santi sometimes found himself wondering why you got so worked up over such little things. He didn’t necessarily think there was a sinister reason for it, but he was curious what had occurred in your life to turn you into such a people pleaser.

You sat next to Benny at dinner, the six of you all crowded around the table. It was packed with all the best parts of a barbecue, right down to the potato salad. The conversation flowed, your brothers taking turns to talk about some of the highlight birthday parties growing up while you giggled. Eventually, Benny, Tom and Will started to talk about the upcoming fight Benny was training for, and you leaned toward Santi and Frankie to chat with them.

Santi knew you hated that your brother was a fighter. You supported him without question, but it took its toll on you. So even though you went to every fight, you otherwise tried to ignore the existence of the sport in your life.

“Santi,” You smiled warmly at him from across the table, then gestured around, “Thank you for this, the theme. I know it was your idea, you’re the only one who appreciates The Office as much as me!”

Frankie chuckled as Santi gazed at you in surprise, momentarily caught off guard as you revealed you knew he’d suggested the theme. “Oh,” He cleared his throat, took a swig of his beer, “No problem, Little. Turns out it’s a pretty inexpensive way to decorate.”

You giggled, loudly, and Santi couldn’t help but smile. He shouldn’t smile so wide, but as he does yours grows too, and his heart stutters in his chest.

Your phone dings, then, and you glance down to check your texts. Frankie arches an eyebrow at Santi, eyes sparking knowingly. He tries to shoot him a look back that says, shut the fuck up. It surprises them both when you give a small grunt of dismay, and Frankie leans closer to you from his spot next to you at the end of the table, brows furrowed.

“What’s up, Little?”

When you look up from your phone, your head turns sharply to the left, your expression fiery as you look directly to where Tom sat. “You son of a bitch,” You hissed, effectively cutting off their conversation. Santi shifts in his seat, eyes locked on you in concern, and you hold your phone up, “What the fuck is wrong with you, Tom?”

When Santi glanced toward his friend, he was surprised to see a flash of understanding and regret cross over his face. Tom cleared his throat awkwardly, “I-sorry, Little, what—”

“You slept with my friend Chloe and pre-booked an Uber to pick her up, Tom, really?” You seethed, tucking your phone back into your pocket, “She said you were a total dick—what gives you the right? Huh?”

From across the table, Santi could see your brothers exchange annoyed looks, he could sense Frankie’s irritation and he could just tell Tom was about to open his mouth and fuck things up even worse. Without thinking, Santi launched into action to make sure things didn’t devolve into chaos. “Tom, with me, now.” He barked, standing abruptly from the table.

Tom complied, quickly setting down his drink before standing, making his way towards the house. The idiot stopped, though, when he reached your end of the table, “I’m sorry, Little. It’s not a reflection of how I feel about you—she was just...”

You glared up at him harshly, “Sure feels like it, Tom. Fuck off.”

Santi grabbed his arm and dragged Tom into the house, eyes flicking back to where you sat at the table, your face scrunched in anger. Will and Frankie were already surrounding you, while Benny was hot on his tail.

When he came through the back door, Santi already had Tom halfway to the front door. “Fuck, I didn’t think Chloe would say anything.” He grumbled bitterly.

Benny bristled, “Dude, the fuck were you thinking?” He shoved Tom’s arm, his eyes wide and angry. Santi let go of Tom to instead move to Benny, a hand landing on his shoulder to keep him from hitting their idiot friend.

“He wasn’t thinking,” Santi gave Tom a pointed look, “Go home. Give her a few days to cool off. And do fucking better, Tom.”

With a frown, Tom nodded before briskly walking out the door. Santi watched him get into his truck, turning away once he’d pulled out of the driveway. Benny was glaring out the window, his arms crossed over his chest, displaying all the anger Santi felt but refused to show—it would give him away.

He had wanted to follow Tom outside and punch him right in the jaw, for making you angry.

“He’s always thinking about himself,” Benny growled, shaking his head, “Little gave him Chloe’s number because she’s a good hairstylist, for fucks sakes.”

“Let’s just go back out and try and relax,” Santi started toward the back door, his internal battle waging hard enough that his chest felt tight, “We’ll deal with him later.”

When they emerged from the house, they saw the table had been abandoned and Will had started on the bonfire as you watched from your spot on the outdoor couch, where you had curled up. Frankie was handing you a beer and smiled tentatively at Santi and Benny as they approached.

“You okay, honey?” Benny drawled, brushing his hand over your face gently as he walked past you to take a seat on a lounge chair. You nodded, your lips curling up though you made no reply.

Santi couldn’t stand the storm he had swirling within, so he relented on his need to keep you at a distance, just slightly, by sitting down next to you on the couch. He kept a polite space between you and him, and if you were surprised by his action you said nothing.

“I’m going to beat his ass, Little,” Benny announced, before launching into a rant about Tom and his selfishness. Will and Frankie ended up joining in, swapping stories that Santi thinks were meant to make you laugh, to show you that he’d always been a complete asshole, but you still seemed lost in thought.

He leaned slightly closer to you, “What do you need, Princesa?”

It rolled off of his tongue like honey, coming out without thought. Santi watched as your gaze snapped up from the fire to meet his, eyes wide and a small smile appearing. You shrugged, “Why do men—?”

Santi interjected softly, “That’s all you have to say,” You tilted your head, confused, “Why do men? That’s the question. In this case, Tom is newly divorced, broke and acting like a goddamn teenager. We’ll all make sure he regrets disrespecting you and your friend.”

“I know,” You sighed, twisting so that you faced Santi more directly, “I guess I forget, sometimes, having brothers like Will and Benny, that men can be awful. Especially since I haven’t been dating for a while.”

Santi chose to ignore this new information, not wishing to overthink why you were taking a break from dating.

He grinned instead, “Come on, five guy friends, a few of us are bound to be bad eggs.”

You pushed at his arm playfully, “Just one bad egg, in this group, Santi.” Your smile now was broader, genuine, and Santi could feel his rage all but diminish. You were happy again, which was all the mattered to him—it was, after all, your birthday.

“Ah, Little, it’s alright. I can admit I’m a bad egg.”

“No,” You reached out and squeezed his arm, your eyes locked on his, “No Santi, you’re one of the best.” You stated it like a fact, genuine and warm enough his heartbeat harder in response.

You were such a sweetheart.

God, he knew he’d just ruin you.

Not in a sexual way, either. In that sense, he’s sure you’d actually ruin him—he’d never be satisfied by anything or anyone again if he was ever with you. No, Santi would ruin you differently; he’d strip away those layers of joy and sweetness if he showed you his darkness; if he allowed his shadows to block out your light. That you could smile and laugh so freely was a gift none of the rest of them had any longer, not after everything they’d been through, everything they had done.

Arm's length, because then you were safe. Burden free. Even if he spent every miserable day of his life loving you from that distance.

—

Fight Night

He saw you again a few days later, at fight night. You’d all carpooled together to the fight, sans Tom, who had the good grace to stay away for a bit longer. Will was driving and Frankie sat in the passenger seat because he got vertigo sitting in the back. You had to sit between Benny and Santi, your thighs pressed to theirs in the back of the truck cab. You were quiet the whole way, though this wasn’t unexpected.

It wasn’t unexpected because you’d always been quiet and worried on fight nights. But also, it didn’t come as a surprise to Santi because you had told him. After your birthday, you started to text him. You had each other’s numbers, of course, had exchanged a few in the past, but this was the first time it was for something outside of directions or advising that one of you was on their way. It started with a thank you text, which Santi shot back that there was really no need to thank him, and it spiralled from there.

It was a steady conversation for nearly three days, all of it light and casual but still—he had a chat with you now. You were sending each other memes. You told Santi you were nervous about the fight, and he’d told you everything would be fine and he’d be right there with you the whole time.

He told himself it was alright since it was just texts. Just innocent messages. Really though, what was he thinking? One minute he was congratulating himself for hiding his feelings from you, the next he was taking the smallest bit of connection to you and fucking running with it. All because you told him you thought he was one of the best.

After tonight, he resolved as he passed Frankie his beer and scooted along the bench to sit next to you, he would slow down the messages. You’d be calmer once the fight was over, and wouldn’t need him as much anyway, so it would be easy enough. Santi had relented somewhat these past few days, now he needed to tighten things back up, get himself under control.

“You sure you don’t want anything, Little?” He asked you, drawing you from your thoughts as you gazed down at the ring, your brothers talking in one corner during a timeout. The fight had been pretty even so far, unfortunately, so Benny had taken a few hits.

“I don’t have an appetite, not after seeing the opponent.”

You were biting at your lower lip, leaning slightly forward so that when Santi glanced down at you, he could see the delicate line of your ample cleavage pressed up. You wore your hair down, had on a simple white tank top tucked into loose-fitting linen pants, and looked utterly perfect, even despite the pinch between your brows. A fleeting desire to smooth his thumb over the lines there made him look away.

Frankie dropped an arm around your shoulders, “Benny’s got this, right Pope?

“Without a doubt,” Santi agreed, smiling when you dropped your head into your hands with a sigh. “Head up, they’re starting again.”

It was close, but Benny won. You were a mess between Frankie and Santi, jumping to your feet when the final hold came on, hands pressed to your mouth until Benny was declared. When you launched yourself into Santi, you caught him so off guard he could only catch you, keeping you steady before you just as quickly pulled away and hurried past Frankie to run down to the ring.

Frankie smirked, “You’re blushing, man.”

“Fuck off,” Santi murmured, eyes following you as you wove through the crowd to your brothers. Will hugged you, but Benny was covered in blood and opted to squeeze your hand, grinning at you widely in his cocky way. “I’ll go meet her, you coming?”

“Nah, need the can. See you at the truck.” He waved, walking off with the crowd as it ebbed out of the arena. Santi walked down the stairs you had, but he had to stop near the bottom to wait for a gap.

He glanced up, searching for you in the crowd and finding you walking away from your brothers, hand raised in farewell. They were swallowed up by the fight officials. Santi kept his eyes on you, waiting for you to reach him. You were halfway toward him when a man walked by you, another fighter by the looks of him, and spoke something to you that Santi couldn’t hear over the noise of the crowd and the music pumping through the arena.

He didn’t need to hear, however, because your reaction told him everything. You flinched at first, your head turning to look for the source and then you were glaring up at the man, who kept talking—his eyes were on your chest. His brows wriggling suggestively.

Santi was moving toward you now, that rage that always seemed to simmer just below the surface quickly boiling up. In no time, he was at your side, grunting as he shoved past the man, locking an arm around your shoulders and urging you away. He heard himself say, “There you are, let’s get out of the crowd!” And you let him lead you up the stairs; he felt your gaze turn toward him a few times, but Santi didn’t look at you. He was afraid you would see the anger, the burning rage that was begging him to turn around and deck the fucker. Rip him limb from limb for even just looking at you the way he did, shoot him in the fucking head.

Santi was darkness and shadows. He couldn’t let you see.

He led you outside before releasing his hold, dropping his arm and slowing down. “You okay?”

You walked along with Santi, moving in the direction of the truck, “Fine,” You reached out then, took hold of Santi’s hand, “Thanks—he was just being gross.”

Santi shook his head, “Don’t thank me, whatever he said was out of line. Some two pump chump who gets a kick out of talking down to beautiful women.”

You paused, your hand still softly holding his, and glanced up at Santi with a small smile, “Beautiful women, eh?” Santi’s stomach dropped, realizing what he’d said. You shook your head after a moment, your smile no longer meeting your pretty eyes, “He was making comments about my tits, anyway. That’s usually what happens.”

Santi didn’t like the way you shrugged, the edge to your words. You dropped his hand, and he frowned down at you, “Hey if he wasn’t twice my size with working knees I’d have laid him out. What do you mean, it’s what usually happens?”

He’d noticed men check you out before, of course. Nights out at the bar, it happened often, their lingering gazes, though he couldn’t say where they specifically looked because he always had to calm himself down when he’d notice, force himself not to react.

You peered up at Santi, gestured towards your chest, “Men only see these, most of the time. And the moment I don’t show interest, they just move on by insulting me. I’m used to it.”

“Jesus, Little, that’s not right. You don’t deserve to be treated that way—”

You sighed heavily, drawing a hand across your face, “Don’t do that, Santi.”

Santi stared at you in surprise, “Do what, Little?”

“Pep talk me like I’m a teenager. I know I deserve a man who’ll worship every inch of me,” You crossed your arms, your wide eyes burning into Santi’s, “Turns out, a lot of men like to fuck bigger girls but the whole relationship thing isn’t on the table. I’m sick of everything in my life being about how I look.”

Santi stepped closer to you, confusion sweeping through him, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pep talk. I’m no good at being nice, so just tell me what I can do. Tell me what you mean,” He glanced around, grateful that your brothers nor Frankie appeared to be coming out of the arena yet. “What’s wrong, Princesa?”

Your eyes fluttered shut briefly at his words, your lower lip drawing between your teeth as you seemed to consider your reply. “I—I had a run-in, with one of my brother’s flings last week. Benny was out and Will was in the shower and she saw me and made a joke about how the ‘other Miller brother liked his girls bigger,’ and when I said I was their sister she laughed in my face and basically said, oh, of course, I was,” Your voice lowered, eyes cast down as you spoke, “It’s happened before, too. I don’t look like the kind of women you all pick up at the bar, and most of the time that doesn’t matter to me but I feel like I’m not even safe in my own home anymore.”

Santi breathed out your name softly, raised one hand to tentatively grasp your arm—though he wished he could tug you into his, he resisted. “Don’t compare yourself to some chick that gets picked up at the bar. There isn’t a single thing wrong with the way you look, Little, you’re fucking perfect,” Santi let his eyes drop over your figure briefly, before meeting yours again, “I know you know that. Your confidence is enviable, that’s why that fling said what she did—she can’t look at herself and think the way you do, so she puts you down.”

“I know, Santi, but it’s hard not to listen. It’s hard not to compare when I see...” You trailed off with a huff, and he rubbed his thumb across the skin of your arm gently, attempting to soothe you.

“You should tell Benny and Will to cut bringing their dates home.” He suggested, though you immediately shook your head in response.

“I can’t,” You sighed, “It’s not what I want if I’m being honest. Living with them was only supposed to be temporary, a year at the most.”

Santi nodded, grateful to be back into territory he could cope with. He’d already said too much, trying to comfort you. “You want to move out?” He could understand that, the need for space and freedom.

“Yeah,” You looked up at Santi again, and he could see how tired you were. “I don’t want to upset them, and I can’t really afford to get a place on my own anyway. But I’ve been thinking about it. I just feel like such a kid, living in my old bedroom, with my big brothers who constantly baby me...”

You trailed off, beginning to walk again and Santi followed you, silent as you approached the truck and leaned against the side of it. He stood next to you, let his arm brush against yours. He wished he could do more, take away your stress and make you smile again, but he didn’t know how.

Santi had never been the best at comforting words. His mind stirred with thoughts of soothing you by laying you down in the back of the truck, shucking off your pants and kissing your thighs. Licking you until you were a puddle for him, bringing you over the edge again and again. He’d make sure to hold up to his ridiculous nickname, make you see whatever the fuck you wanted, make you scream for more.

He had to shake his head, his voice low when he spoke next.

“What can I do, Princesa?”

Another soft sigh, “I don’t know Santi,” You smiled, glancing up at him with a teasing look, “Got an extra room?”

Santi stared back at you—he could see that you were joking. He could easily laugh it off, try to help you come up with another solution. He could have even changed the subject entirely. Instead, after a pause in which your brows furrowed curiously, he nodded his head.

“You know I do, Little. And it’s yours if you want it.”

He had finally lost all sense, a voice in the back of his mind screamed. But when you started to really smile, your entire face brightening, and your hands shot out to grip his arm, he found it all too easy to ignore the alarms sounding in his mind.

“Seriously? I can pay you rent, pitch in on cleaning and everything,” You were practically bouncing with excitement, and Santi couldn’t help but laugh as he nodded, “Santi, thank you!” You threw your arms around his neck then, drawing your body against his as you squeaked excitedly.

As Santi held you close, he found it hard to breathe, his heart thumping happily while his brain shouted at him to take it back, to keep you at arm's length. Instead, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head and soothed a hand down your back.

“Anything for you, Princesa.” He whispered, quiet enough that he hoped you didn’t hear.

Shit, he’d fucked up now.

Taglist 🤍 @mermaidxatxheart @paintballkid711 @ladydmalfoy @rrtxcmt

#santi x reader #santi garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia #pope garcia #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #curvy reader #midsize reader #reader insert #fanfic #multichapter #little mini series #angst #oscar isaac #francisco catfish morales #will miller #benny miller

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im-in-love-with-pizza-bites · 2 years

Text

To Raise Children: Chapter 15

Chris Evans X Daughter!Reader, Grandpa!Chris Evans X Flynn and Felix Evans (OCs) Tom Holland X Single-Mom!Reader (Slow Burn)

Series Masterlist

OC List

Series Summary: It's been 4 years, your sons are starting kindergarten, you're starting junior year of college, a lot has changed.

Chapter Summary: Tom asks you on a date.

Series Warnings: Age gap (Reader is 20, Tom is 29), absent father, mentions teen pregnancy, mentions abortion, if you see anymore please let me know politely.

Chapter Warnings:

Sequel to "It Takes A village"

Chris looks over at your phone when he hears it begin to ring. Tom was calling you, that confused Chris since he didn't know you and Tom were friends. You have told him yet.

"Hey dad! Can you get that?" You hollered from the next room over where you were sitting with the twins. All three of you were doing school work. You had left your phone in the living room charging.

"Sure thing peanut!" Chris explains as he reaches over and answers the phone before standing. "Hello."

"Oh Chris? I think I called the wrong number." Tom says confused as he pulled the phone off his ear to check.

"I was answering the phone for Y/n." Chris told him as he began slowly walking to the dining room.

"Oh! Uh how are you?"

"I'm good. How are you Tom?" Chris asks.

"I'm doing good."

"Why did you call my daughter?" Chris asks, he knows he shouldn't ask. Your a grown woman, he shouldn't put his over protective dad act on. But he just can't help it.

"I just had to talk to her about something." Tom says, of course, it was your dad who answered. He shouldn't be nervous talking to your dad, he's known him almost ten or so years, longer than he's know you. But he likes you and doesn't want to mess anything up, with you or your family. Especially your dad and sons. He just knows that if any of them don't like him then he'll lose his shot.

"Mhm. It's Holland." Chris says handing you the phone.

"Hey!" Chris watches you carefully as your face lights as Tom begins to speak. You excuse yourself and leave the room.

"Whos Holland?"

"Your mom's friend," Chris explains. He knew if he told the boys it was Tom they'd bother you.

"Okay!"

—

"So I was wondering if you'd want to get a dinner with me? Some time before I leave back to London." Tom asks over the phone. He nervously awaits your answer. As for you, you didn't know how to react. A first date, and your first date in over 6 years.

"Yeah sure! Just let me see if I can get my dad to watch the twins. What day were you thinking?"

"Friday maybe?"

"Sure!"

"Okay darling see you then."

The phone hangs up. You grin at the phone, squealing a little bit. You have a date! That is if you can find a babysitter. Your grin doesn't fade as you make your way back to the dining room.

"Good call?" Chris smirks at you.

"Yeah." You nod.

"Okay, I'm gonna go make dinner." Chris smiles before walking out.

———

"Dad can you please watch them?"

"Sorry sweetheart I have plans on Friday. Maybe your grandma can watch them." He suggests.

"Okay."

"Whos your date with? Is it Tom?" Chris teases you

"It's Tom." Your face heats up and you look down at the floor.

"Sweetheart he's going back to London soon so just keep that in mind. A long distance relationship is hard especially when you're busy with kids."

"It's one date." You assure.

"Alright, go ask your grandma I'm sure she'll say yes."

"Yeah... Dad do you think I'm making a mistake? Going on a date, I should be focused on the boys and school."

"Bubba you're always focused on the boys, you can take one night off and you haven't had a night off since before the twins were born."

"I know but dad-"

"You and I both know all you were gonna do this Friday is watch the trolls trilogy for the hundredth time." He gives you a knowing look.

"I hate that you're right." You sigh leaning on the table.

"Seriously though why do they have such an obsession with singing trolls." Chris laughs as he continues cooking dinner. "And why are there three movies."

"Because kids are obsessed with them."

Taglist: @fic-for-readers @denisemarieangelina @thevelvetseries @kaitieskidmore1 @ellerosie2332 @tahniemarie @runawayolives @marajillana @buckybarnez @positivelyholland @firehoseevan @coldmuffinpartycloud @beautifulrose0809 @believinghurts @laura-naruto-fan1998 @shadow-dixon @claaaaaaire-blog @mrs-brekker15 @h-j-s-03 @moniffazictress11 @buxkybarnes @ducks118 @kalopsia-flaneur @silverrmist @some-lovely-day @peterparkerbae @Olivia197810 @gengen64 @snigdha-14 @hollzo-03 @bubb1eana1ee @cmalas @bucketbarnes12 @cedricdiggorysimpp @jamie0515 @Bellagaseta20

Also, I just realized that Felix doesn't have just share a name with one Disney character but two since there is a character in Encanto named Felix (He's still only named after Fix It felix tho not Felix from Encanto, because he was not a year before Encanto came out) Also in 2023 trolls 3 is coming out and that's what I referenced in this fic since its taking place in 2025.

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babymetaldoll · 3 years

Text

I just want you (Chip Taylor / Reader)

Requested: Yes

Word counting: 3.5K

Summary: What would it be like to be married to Chip Taylor? Would it include a lot of women trying to hit on him?

Warnings: Cursing, spoilers of 68 Kill.

A/N: Hello, beautiful people! sorry, I've been a little absent here, but writing my series has taken most of my time! Also, I feel a little blocked, and my personal life has been a mess. But, here it is: my first Chip Taylor fic. Have you guys seen 68 Kill? I love that movie, and I love Chip so much. He deserves the world. I hope you guys like this little story!

Masterlist

---

It wasn’t like I didn’t know my husband was handsome, ‘cos you had to be blind not to see his face was made by the gods, and all of his features were simply perfect. I just didn’t know every woman would flirt with him everywhere we were all the time.

And they weren’t even subtle about it. No. They made it very obvious when they looked at Chip each time they stopped by his work. They wanted him.

After all those years together, a part of me had made peace with that. I couldn’t stop them. He was hot, he didn’t want their attention, but he wasn’t rude or anything like it. Chip Taylor was a very polite man who was also very blind to the attention his looks gave him.

Chip owned a small pet sitting business that had started to really take off in the last few months. He had some savings that he used to buy a house when we first started dating. He lived there until we got married, and then we bought a bigger place outside the town. That’s when he decided to turn his old home into his own pet sitting business. And it was a hit. Chip is fantastic with animals. He is great with everybody, but pets just… melt with him. I think they can see the kindness of his soul.

Chip Taylor deserves the best things in life ‘cos he is the best man I’ve ever met. I’ve loved him since the day it took him almost half an hour to walk over and talk to me in the bar we met.

- “Every time a pretty face pops up, my brain turns into a potato- he explained, flustered ‘cos he kept stuttering as he asked for my number.

He was too sweet. Too cute. And he loved me. He had a ring that said so. But again, that didn’t stop most women who met him from flirting with him.

- “Here he is. Little Rascal had a great day today”- Chip walked to the front yard with a french bulldog, who kept barking, trying to get an extra treat from him. I smiled from a safe distance, reading a book sitting on a porch while Chip met with the dog owner. And she was as excited as Rascal was.

- “Hi baby! Did you have a good day today?”- the lady held the leash and caressed her dog’s head a few times before returning her attention fully to my husband.

- “Thank you for taking care of him.”

- “You are very welcome, Kim. It’s my job.”

- “No, it’s more than that. Rascal hates strangers, and he has been an angel with you since day one. I tell you, Chip, you are someone special.”

I know my husband blushed, ‘cos he is terrible with compliments. So he just shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. His shirt raised, showing his very toned midsection. And I swear, I had to force myself to stay put on that chair, ‘cos the way that woman looked at my husband was enough to make my blood boil. I wanted to run over and push her away from him. I wished I could tell her to get her dog and get the fuck out of our property.

But no. I didn’t. Instead, I tried to keep on reading, which was honestly impossible. But at least I didn’t move from my chair. I just stared at that scene, trying to control the urges of smashing that woman’s head against her car.

- “So, do you have plans for the weekend?”- the woman asked him, smiling flirtatiously

- “Not really.”- not the smartest answer, I’ll give you that.

- “Great! that means you can’t say no! I am having a small get-together at my place this Friday. You should totally come.”

- “Thank you, Kim, but...”

- “I’ll text you my address. I’m not taking no for an answer!”

Chip was awkward, he felt pushed to say he’d go, but I knew he didn’t want to. If he did, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Besides, he wouldn’t usually make plans without asking me first. A part of me wanted to run and help him out of that awkward situation, but I knew he had to do it on his own. Yes, he was a grown-up, but after knowing everything he had gone through before we met, a big part of me wanted to take care of him constantly. I didn’t want anything wrong ever to happen to Chip. He didn’t deserve anything bad.

- “Thanks, Kim, really, but… I think I should ask my wife first”- he whispered and smiled kindly at the woman, who didn’t hide the disappointment from her face. I have the feeling she never actually saw the ring on my husband’s finger.

- “Wife? I had no idea you were married, Chip”- he chuckled and nodded as the woman tried to act normal again. But she couldn’t.

- “Yes, I’ve been married for the last ten months.”

- “Just ten months? Well, she is a lucky woman…”

- “Thank you”- Chip petted Rascal’s head and added- “But I am sure I am the lucky one to have her. I still can’t believe she actually married me.”

- “Come on, Chip! Any woman would be happy with a man like you.”

And that was when that woman crossed the line and rubbed my husband’s arm for longer than necessary. He froze and looked at her, not knowing how to get out of that situation. Chip is a sweet soul who still has some significant issues when it comes to setting boundaries.

I jumped from my chair and walked over quickly, with a big smile on my face. The woman turned to me and raised an eyebrow, clearly not knowing who I was.

- “Hello, sorry to interrupt you, boo, but it’s getting late for our date.”

We didn’t have a date that night. But well, now we did.

Chip frowned, confused, and waited for me to explain a little more what I was saying. But, instead, I just smiled and held his hand, making sure that the woman’s hand was as far from him as possible.

- “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N), Chip’s wife.”- I said and waved.

- “Kimberly, nice to meet you.”

- “So you are Rascal’s mom. He is a sweetheart”- I kneeled and petted Rascal’s head behind his ears, right where I knew he liked it. Kim just nodded and smiled.

- “Ok, we should go, it’s getting late. Bye Chip”- she waved quickly, walking to her car. My husband said goodbye and wrapped an arm around my waist as I stood by his side and rested my head on his shoulder.

- “We are not going to her “little get-together,” by the way”- I whispered, and he chuckled.

- “Good, ’cause I didn’t want to go either. I actually had plans for the weekend, but I didn’t want to discuss them with her.”- I looked at him, raising an eyebrow, and felt his big hands caressing the lower part of my back.

- “Which plans?”

- “I’m planning to stay in bed with my wife the whole weekend, watch movies, kiss her a lot, and maybe asking for pizza.”

- “You had me at ˝stay in bed,” Chip Taylor”- I giggled and kissed his cheek- “She was flirting with you, by the way.”

- “I don’t care if she tried to flirt. I only have eyes for you, moonbeam”- I chuckled at the cheesy nickname and felt his lips on mine. They felt warm and soft and filled with love.

But it wasn’t always so easy to shake off the thoughts of a woman flirting with Chip. Unfortunately, sometimes it was harder to remain calm. Some women were more aggressive with their flirting. Some were actually way hotter than me, and sometimes that makes you doubt yourself.

I didn’t know Liza or Violet, so I never knew if they were prettier, more intelligent, or sexier than me. I couldn’t compare or compete with them either, ‘cos they were dead. But some random women made my life a little more challenging from time to time.

- “Chip? Chip Taylor?”- a soft woman’s voice interrupted our conversation and forced my husband to turn around, feeling now also her hand on his shoulder. We were at our favorite bar, having a drink, celebrating the end of the week and another successful month of Chip’s small business. We were chatting about our days, sitting at our usual table, when interrupted.

- “Anna Davis? Hi! How are you?! Long time no see!”- my husband stood up and hugged the stranger like long-lost friends reunited. I had never heard of any “Anna” before. I was trying to remember if I did.

- “I haven’t seen you in ages! What are you doing here?”- Anna said and laughed- “I can’t believe it’s really you!”- and so, they hugged again.

- “Hi”- I waved from the table and smiled at the two of them as they moved apart.

- “I’m so sorry, babe. (Y/N), this is Anna, my neighbor when I was in middle school. Anna, this is (Y/N), my wife.”

- “Hi, nice to meet you”- she shook my hand and smiled at me for a second, and then turned to my husband again and continued catching up.

Chip looked happy and excited to see her. He didn’t have many friends, he still didn’t know how to trust most people, probably why he decided to work with animals instead. He had a good relationship with Jim, the boy who helped him clean, and with a few classmates from the community college. But that was it.

- “I can’t believe you are here!”- Chip was beaming- “Are you with someone?”

- “My friends were leaving. I’m visiting one of my best friends, who moved here a few years ago. But she has to work tomorrow morning, so she wanted to go home.”

- “Do you wanna sit with us for a while?”- Chip asked her and turned to me smiling. Of course, I couldn’t say no. Well, he didn’t actually ask; he just looked at me, and I moved my chair to make room for one more on the table.

- “I would love to! Thank you!.”

I loved the idea of meeting Anna, at first. I didn’t know many people from my husband’s past, basically just his parents. The fact she was his friend growing up sounded amazing, and it meant I could finally talk with someone who knew him when he was a kid and could tell me more stories about my husband.

But Anna had other plans. My husband blinded Anna. She basically ignored me, and he was so excited to see her and talk to her, he didn’t even notice I was being left out of the whole conversation.

At first, it was ok. Chip wanted to catch up with Anna, know what she was doing with her life, and all that. So he asked for her parents and family. Apparently, they were pretty close growing up.

- “Remember each Friday we had a secret sleepover?”- she asked and laughed. My husband nodded and sipped his drink.

- “Yeah! I would sneak into your house and watch a movie.”

- “You know, my parents knew you were coming to hang out after curfew. They just didn’t think it was wrong”- she added and laughed- “I’m just glad they didn’t know about the day we tried smoking for the first time!”

Chip burst into laughter, and so did Anna. I just stared at them and sighed. Neither of them explained the story. They were just too caught up in each other to even notice I was there.

Yes, I was feeling jealous of Chip’s long-lost childhood friend. I knew it made no sense, but somehow, he completely forgot I existed when she was there. Yes, it was probably ‘cos he was surprised to bump into her at a bar on a random night after so many years.

But the more I looked at her, the more I realized she was gorgeous. She had long legs, beautiful golden hair, green eyes. The girl could go to a freaking beauty pageant and win it. Besides, Anna wasn’t acting friendly, if you ask me. She kept rubbing my husband’s arm, repeating how excited she was to see him, and saying over and over again how good he looked… it was a little too much.

- “I tell you, Chip, you haven’t changed a bit!”- Anna smiled and looked into his chocolate eyes, and I swear she nearly sighed. I couldn’t blame her. He is dreamy. But he is my husband, and it felt wrong.

- “Neither have you,”- he added and turned to me for a second. I looked kindly into his eyes, knowing he was happy, and that was enough to make me feel happy too.

- “Can I get you another drink, moonbeam?”- he asked me and stood up.

- “Yes, penguin, please”- Chip nodded and blushed as I called him by his favorite nickname and then turned to Anna.

- “Another?”

- “Sure!”

And suddenly, we were on our own.

- “So, how long have you been married?”- Anna asked me and looked at me innocently.

- “A little over ten months.”

- “Just married! Congratulations. You must still be living the honeymoon!”

- “Yes, we are.”- I giggled and turned to look at Chip, waiting for our drink at the bar. It wasn’t hard being stuck at the honeymoon phase with him. Every day, he made every day feel like the first day we were together, even after three years of dating and ten months married.

- “We used to date when we were kids,”- Anna simply said and chuckled - “It was very childish, but I was his first kiss.”

- “Really?”- I smiled at her, making my best not to look jealous at all. “That’s so cute!”

- “He is adorable. He was the sweetest boy growing up.”- Anna added and kept her eyes on Chip. But for a few seconds, I could see the longing in them, and my struggle not to show how jealous I was got a little harder.

- “So when was the last time you saw Chip?”- I asked and kept my eyes on her, reading her expressions. It took her a few extra seconds to stop staring at him to turn and look at me.

- “When I moved out of town when I was fifteen.”- she sighed and chuckled- “Seems it was a lifetime ago.”

- “Ok, here are your drinks,”- Chip appeared and smiled- “Plus, I ordered some more nachos, ‘cos I’m getting hungry.”- I chuckled and held his hand upon the table, playing with his fingers between mine. Chip looked at me and opened his mouth to say something when Anna interrupted him.

- “Remember that summer you broke your arm ‘cos you fell from the tree in Shawn’s backyard?”

And my husband laughed, forgetting what he was going to tell me.

I stood in front of the mirror and tried to fix my makeup. I looked tired. I was tired. It was Friday night, and I wasn’t twenty-three anymore. I was weary, and all I could think of was getting into my bed with my husband and getting good twelve-hour sleep.

But he and Anna were still talking and having a blast together, remembering the good old times. Now, if you ask me, I had the feeling Anna wanted to do more than just talking to my husband, but he was oblivious to any of her intentions. That was until I walked out of the bathroom and saw Anna’s arm wrapped around Chip as they were dancing.

She was dancing with my husband, and he was laughing. Ok, that hurt. It hurt a lot.

I sat at our table and drank what was left of my drink. I stared at them for a moment and evaluated my options. I could storm out of that place, maybe make a scene and yell. But no, I trusted my husband. I knew he wasn’t trying to hurt me or even cheat on me with her. No. He was naive and a little awkward. But by the way Anna’s hands moved on his body, clearly, she wasn’t naive at all.

- “Oh! I’m sorry!”- Anna said laughing when they reached back our table- “I just asked Chip to dance with me ‘cos I love that song.”

- “That’s ok”- I smiled at her and held my husband’s hand tight upon the table.

- “But Chip is such a great dancer! He really knows how to move!”- Anna was asking for it. She wanted to be smacked. But I behaved.

- “He really does,”- I answered and smiled

- “I hope you are not jealous!”- I turned to her and frowned, pretending to be confused

- “Of course not! Why would I?”

- “I don’t know! It’s just that… he was mine way before he was yours and…”

- “He isn’t mine”- I cut her off, and for once, my voice stopped being nice and friendly- “And he is definitely not yours. He is not a dog, Anna, he is a person, and the only owner of his soul is himself.”

Anna stared at me in silence, and Chip wide opened his eyes, surprised by my tone of voice.

- “What I’m trying to say is that… I met him when…”

- “I know what you are trying to imply Anna, you’ve been trying to do it ever since you sat at our table. You feel like you need to prove something, but you don’t. Really.”

Chip held my hand tight and kissed it sweetly. He didn’t say anything to me. He just looked at me with apologetic eyes as I cut him a short smile.

- “Ok, I think I better go now”- Anna stood up and just waved- “It was great seeing you again, Chip.”

My husband smiled and waved as Anna walked away. Then, when he was sure she had left the place, he turned to me. I sipped what was left of my drink and sighed.

- “Sorry if I was rude”- my words were a whisper only Chip could hear.

- “No, moonbeam. You weren’t rude at all. I’m sorry.”

- “Chip Taylor, you didn’t do anything wrong”- I leaned and kissed his lips softly, cupping his face with both hands.

- “I feel like I did.”

- “No, boo, really. She was… clearly trying to get under your belt.”

- “I shouldn’t have danced with her, but she pushed me...”- Chip excused himself and kissed my hand again, as I still held his face and caressed her cheeks with my thumbs.

- “Yeah, you should work on that “No” thing a little harder,”- I whispered and chuckled.

- “Sorry if she made you feel jealous. I had a huge crush on her when we were kids.”

- “She said she was your first kiss”- Chip opened my mouth, but no word came from it for a few seconds.

- “Funny, I told her that just ‘cos she said I was her first kiss, but actually my first kiss was with her cousin Alice.”

I couldn’t hold back the laughter as Chip looked at me with guilty eyes as if that was the biggest secret he had about his past.

- “Well, I bet if I run, I can still catch her!! I need to tell her the news!!”- I said and stood up, just to feel Chip’s arms around me, protectively.

- “Let her think that. We all know who all my kisses belong to now.”

Chip held me tight and close to him as his lips rubbed mine slowly. I felt my head spin as his tongue slowly touched mine, deepening the kiss. I couldn’t help but moan at the sensation of Chip’s sweet and passionate kiss. He made sure to make me feel how much he loved him every time he kissed me. In a weird way, Chip’s kisses always felt like our first and last. I think he was always trying to show me his feelings, ‘cos his previous trauma taught him he didn’t know when a kiss could be the last.

- “I love you so much, Mrs. Taylor,”- he whispered, and the title made my knees feel weak- “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

- “I love you more, Mr. Taylor,”- I replied and kissed his lips sweetly one more time- “And just between you and me, I am completely yours.”- I confessed and giggled nervously.

- “I am yours too, moonbeam. You own my heart, and I only want you.”- he whispered and kissed me one more time.

- “You just want me?”- I repeated, and he nodded, looking into my eyes filled with love- “Of all those women who wanna do you, you just want me?”

- “Which women?”- he asked me, clearly confused

- “A lot of women out there keep giving you the fuck eyes.”

- “What?! No way”

- “Do you think Kim invited you to her house for a small get-together? She wanted to get under your belt, penguin.”

- “But I am your penguin, that means I am not looking for any other woman. I just want you.”

- “Just me,”- I repeated again, and he nodded.

- “Just you, Mrs. Taylor”- I sighed, pleased, and closed my eyes for a second “Wanna go home?”

- “You still have to dance with me,”- I pouted, and he held my hand.

- “Whatever my wife wants.”

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @meowiemari @archer561 @all-tings-diego

#Chip Taylor #Matthew Gray Gubler #68 kill #chip taylor x reader #chip taylor x fem!reader #Matthew Gray Gubler Fluff #fluff #matthew Gray Gubler fanfiction #fanfiction #68 kill fanfiction #babymetaldoll writes

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miyuwuki · 3 years

Note

im so glad youre writing so often i love reading all your work :) thank you so much for putting in the time for requests! i was wondering if you could write about miyuki and a female reader meeting up for the first time after a couple years away from each other? like they were dating in high school but the reader had to study abroad for college and have been dating long distance? they feel how much each others bodies have changed since theyve become adults in the time theyve been apart but still love each other as much (and maybe some sexi too with being apart so long lolol) ty!!!

hello dear! thank you so much for taking the time to read my work :) your words mean a lot to me!

warnings: slight angst if you really squint, slight nsfw. mentions of weight gain (but in a good way. i’m chubby and i love all my chubby readers out there)

agedup!miyuki kazuya x aged up!reader

long time, no see

you impatiently tapped your foot, waiting for miyuki to pick you up from the airport. after years of managing a long distance relationship, him chasing after his goals and yours too, you finally graduated with your desired major, which meant that you could finally go back to tokyo and reunite with the man you called the love of your life.

you felt a pair of hands cover your eyes, making you tense but relax just as quickly as you heard his voice.

“guess who?”

you turned your head behind you, landing your eyes on the now-trending star catcher. “kazuya!” you hugged him around his neck, burying your head into its space, “i’ve missed you, i’ve missed you so much!” his arms embraced you back in a slow but firm hold, “i’ve missed you too, dummy.”

“dummy? i haven’t seen you in three years and dummy is the first thing you call me?” you said, trying to sound mad but failing miserably because you couldn’t contain your excitement.

he laughed— the kind that you hated when you first met him but eventually grown to love. the one that came out whenever you tripped or whenever he left you all pouty. you scrunched your face at him out of annoyance, but deep down you missed that side of him too.

“are you hungry?” miyuki asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and lugging your suitcase for you. “we can go to that okonomiyaki place you like, i don’t mind.” you nodded eagerly, once again earning a chuckle from him, “you never changed, huh?”

the whole entire day was spent catching up together, reminiscing about your young love days in high school to both sharing your experiences during your three years apart. there was so many things to talk about, hence why the conversation had no signs of ending when you arrived at miyuki’s place.

“you’ve got a nice place,” you uttered, looking around in awe. it was minimal, yet already did it make you feel like home. the walls were a nice beige color and there were some fake plants here and there— but one thing that caught your eye was a small hanging photo of you and him before you left to study abroad.

“you kept that photo?” you whispered, going up to it and tracing it with your finger. “that’s kind of cute, actually.” miyuki scratched the back of his neck, something he did when he was embarrassed. “i guess so.”

you sat on the couch where the light of the lamp reflected off of it, ushering miyuki to sit next to you. seeing that photo just made you feel so vulnerable, and you couldn’t help but talk about the other side of the good parts of studying abroad. “i cried a lot,” you said to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “the times where we couldn’t talk to each other,” you gripped his hand, “the times where i thought that it all wasn’t gonna work out..”

the warm tears started to flow down your cheeks that were now tinted, “it was so hard without you, kazuya. i wondered if i’ve made the right choice leaving you behind. and then i had so many doubts, like what if you found someone new or if—”

your words were interrupted by a pair of lips pressing on your own, as if miyuki was trying to swallow every single ounce of negativity that you’ve felt over the years. a hand snakily slid to the nape of your neck which pushed you closer into the kiss.

“it wasn’t easy for me too,” miyuki muttered, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “you were in a whole other country, and gosh even in practice i worried about you. i swear i just wanted to hop on a plane and get you.” you giggled softly, shaking your head sarcastically.

“at least we have each other now, right?”

he agreed with you, pulling you over him so you’re straddling his hips. he tucked a hair behind your ear and couldn’t pull his eyes away from yours; he admired you, absolutely adored you. he was waiting for this moment just as much as you were— the day when you were finally in his arms.

your hands roamed on his shoulders, softly picking at his shirt. “did you get even more jacked?” you questioned, your hands falling to his chest. “you look great. your shoulders.. so big.”

he gave you a soft peck on your cheek, whispering in your ear, “practice is tough, silly.” his hand slid under your shirt, pinching your soft belly, “seems like someone got jacked too.” you frowned and shoved his hand out, ashamed that you’d been reminded of the weight you’ve put on.

“hey,” he said, shaking his head. “it’s not a bad thing, you look good. it also gives me something to grip on when i..”

he stopped his words teasingly as you blushed under his stare, his hand retreating back to rub your soft flesh. three years without miyuki were three years without anything sexual (besides that little toy you kept under your bed), and everything he was doing and saying were pushing you on the edge.

“what is it?” he asked; and even though it was a question, he already knew that answer to it. i mean, it’s been so long since he heard your little voice beg.

“i..” you breathed, shaky as if someone had just startled you. “i missed you.”

“mhm, and?” he mocked, “you missed me, and?”

in a soft voice, you pleased, “please take care of me, i need you.”

miyuki was usually ruthless in the bedroom, making you beg and whine until your voice became hoarse and scratched. but how could he hold back when you were there so touch-starved, needy for him and so vulnerable? he would never admit it, but he was just as needy as you, which is why he replied, “i’ll be a little nicer today.”

as the pieces of clothing were torn one by one, he couldn’t help but stare at your figure; he wasn’t the one to care about appearance, but gosh the way your stomach rolled and your thighs creased, he couldn’t help but salivate.

“you, you are so fucking beautiful.” he whispered in your ear once again, sending shivers down your spine. his lips naturally found its way to your jaw, placing open, wet kisses along its prominent bone. he snakily went down to your neck, your moans get heavier and heavier by the minute. you felt his cock harden beneath you, groaning his name out of destitution.

“you’re so impatient,” he chortled, “let me show you how much i missed you too.”

BONUS:

“we’re lucky, huh?” you whispered to your boyfriend whose chest was against your back, arm around your torso. it was dark in his room, but the moon beautifully shone it’s light through the creaks of his blinds.

“how so?” he hummed, placing light kisses on your shoulder blade.

“long distance.” you replied, “most people wouldn’t last.”

he sighed, his warm breath hitting your skin. “wasn’t luck, we’re just too good.”

“yeah, we are.”

it was silent for a little while, and just before you were going to enter the threshold of slumber, miyuki asked,

“live with me now?”

EEEEEEEE I HOPE THIS WAS OK FOR U ILY

*＊✿❀reblogs and likes are appreciated❀✿＊*

#diamond no ace #diamond no ace x reader #daiya no ace #daiya no ace x reader #daiya no a act ii #ace of diamond #miyuki kazuya #miyuki x reader #miyuki kazuya x reader #kazuya miyuki x reader #kazuya miyuki #daiya x reader #sawamura eijun #daiyadaily #kominato haruichi #i love him

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gb-patch · 3 years

Text

Ask Answers: June 6th, 2021

I’m back with more ask responses! You can also check our Frequently Asked Question sheet if there’s something you’re wondering that’s not answered here.

FAQ Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

Thank you for the patience with these questions ♡

Hey in very beginning of step 3 in the scene where Mr.Holden had a thought dancing on the tip of his tongue but he kept it to himself after MC and Cove were being cute (idk if it makes a difference but this is when they're dating)... Can we know what he was thinking/ wanted to say? It's been bugging me lol

He would’ve gone into a “look how much you’ve grown”, “your dad is so proud of you”, “I’m so glad things worked out with the MC”, and etc spiel, haha. But he resisted the urge to fawn on his baby boy, at least for that scene.

If we planned to move away for college/future plans in step 3, is it implied that MC and Cove would have a long distance relationship for sure? Could MC have convinced Cove to come with them? How is the dynamic of their relationship going to be addressed in Step 4, if that makes sense?

Cove is willing to follow the MC where they went after everything is settled for them there, and if they’re sure they want him to come! You’ll get to decide how things shook out during those transitional years just by making choices about it during the opening prologue of Step 4.

Hi! First off, how does it feel to have created one of the best games when it comes to inclusion for lbtq+ peeps? I've never felt as validated with my identity and sexuality when playing a game and I'm seemingly not alone ♥ Second, and this might be a little too specific, but what kinds of drinks does Cove like as well as dislike? Thank you, you're the best ♥

Thank you for very much! It’s really nice to hear the game felt inclusive. Cove likes regular water and fruit juices/smoothies most! He dislikes coffee and cola, and he’s not super into most teas either.

Hi, may i ask what gb patch stands for? Specifically the gb part lol

It stands for my old, silly username I used in places like Neopets as a kid, aha. The company name wasn’t super thought out since it was originally just me making VNs as a hobby. Luckily, “GB Patch” kind of seems like it could mean something reasonable, so I didn’t have to rebrand when it did become a more serious, commercial group.

If we chose to not propose to cove in the step 3 dlc would he propose or would the mc propose in step 4 or the wedding dlc?

Yeah, you or Cove can propose in Step 4 if you’re not already engaged! The Wedding DLC takes place after the engagement so the proposal scenes aren’t there.

will you guys announce if the early access for the new game is out on patreon ?

When beta builds of Step 4 or whatever start coming out on the Patreon we will mention it here on social media too.

Heyy I just had a quick question about Baxter if that’s okay :)?

I saw in an ask+answer that it’s possible to casually date Baxter In step 3, but what leads up to that? I have the step 3 dlc and I’ve tried playing them In a different orders and ways but it doesn’t seem to get anywhere ^^;

The Step 3 DLC is Cove-based because he’s the default guy. There’s a separate Baxter romance DLC that’s not out yet. That’s where you can get him to date you. I’m sorry for the confusion!

Will we ever get any LI's or side characters with physical disabilities or deformities? I think your games would be a great place to have them in since they're always so accepting and safe!

Yeah, we do hope to have representation for that in future projects ^^. Thank you for the confidence in us.

Is it possible to get Cove to take the bed and MC to sleep on the floor?

Not in Step 3, I’m afraid.

So, I have played the prologue of Our Life countless times and I haven't gotten the [Your Life] achievement, why is that?

Steam sometimes isn’t connected properly when an achievement unlocks and so it remains locked on your account. If that happens, unfortunately getting the scene again won’t unlock it. The achievement becomes inaccessible because the game thinks you already have it. Playing with the same Steam account on a different device or fully deleting your game data (more than the only the save files) are the only work arounds we’ve found.

Since when you talk with Jeremy in step 3 it's mentioned he goes on dates with someone (which assume is JB because who else would take this boy on dates) that makes him happy, does that sort of make JB and Jeremy the canon relationship in the first game?

The default for XOXO Droplets is that JB casually goes on dates with each of the jerks! Shiloh would’ve been harsher if Jeremy was the only guy getting her attention, haha. But the player can change that default by dating just one person the whole game for their own story and who she ends up with for real has no default.

Hi, hello! Huge OL fan, thank you so much for the wholesome content, it was very much needed during these times. Managed to get several people to join team Cove, so that's very exciting, I always have people to fawn over him with. I have a little question and I'm sorry if it was asked before, but does it ever come up in the game what Cove has told his mom about us? (who knows, with so many options, one can miss it) Or, alternatively, will it come up in the Step 4 DLC?

Thank you very much for sharing the game with people <3. It’s really great to hear people are liking it. Right now that doesn’t come up in game. Kyra is willing to keep her mouth shut and Cove isn’t gonna have that conversation either. At least not when he’s younger, but yes, perhaps when he’s a fully grown big boy in Step 4 you can ask him about it.

I’ve been thinking about this ever since it has been confirmed that there would be two love interests for OL2, would there be the possibility of forming a polyamorous relationship with both love interests? I’m sorry if you answered this previously, I’m just curious.

We are considering it, but it’s not a guarantee yet. It’d be really great to have but it’d add so many extra alterations that’d need to made, aha.

Hello! You mentioned how Cove would be uncomfortable with kids at 23, but how old would he be when he’s comfortable with having/adopting kids? (Same goes for the other LI’s.) btw, love your game!!

He’d want to be at least 25, but even older would be good. Derek would want to have kids when he and his partner could reasonably support them, the age itself wouldn’t matter. If they were doing good at 22 and wanted kids, he’d be up for it. Or they could wait until their 30s or whatever. Baxter is also more of a “when it feels right” guy rather than having a specific age requirement. Cove is just especially wary of being a young parent because of his own parents. I’m happy you like the game!

does step 4 immediately play after you press "end summer" in step 3? or is there another button/transition (like the story text thingy) before the epilogue begins? what happens after the epilogue? roll credits? 😂

Step 4 will have transition section always and there will be an extra button, if you own the Derek or Baxter DLC. By default the Cove-based version of Step 4 just plays once Step 3 is over. However, having the other guys’ storylines will mean you get to pick which version of Step 4 plays; Cove Step 4 (the basic one), Derek Step 4, or Baxter Step 4.

Happy pride, thank you for all you do for us🥰

I have a quick question though, I recently got a MacBook after my old windows computer broke, and now steam says I cannot download it, but it has no issues with other games, what can I do to download it?? I’m sorry if my English is bad

Happy pride month! Unfortunately, Our Life isn’t available for Mac on Steam right now. To be an approval application Apple requires having special notarization and we as a small group haven’t gotten that. Itch doesn’t care and lets us release the game for Mac there anyway, Steam does care so we’re locked out of putting the Mac build up on their storefront. Feel free to email us and we can try to help the situation out further!

[email protected]

Hello! I was jus wondering if the Baxter and Derek DLCs are still happening? I haven’t heard anything about them on here or patreon in a while so I just wanted to make sure ^^

They’re still coming and we just released a new sprite sketch on the Patreon for the Derek DLC c:. But right now Step 4 is still much more of a priority. Once that’s closer to being done we’ll focus way more on sharing previews for the other guys.

is it possible to tell cove you love him (platonically) at step 3 fondness/selecting him as basically family? i just love the mc and liz sibling interactions and it got me wondering about it (especially if you've selected that option)

You and Cove can be as close as family, but there’s not a specific scene in Step 3 where you say “I love you” in a family context. But there’s always Step 4~

do you intend on ever adding a collectors mode to Our Life? Like a way to collect achievements and CGs for the gallery without it effecting any save files?

We weren’t considering it before. But if a lot of players would find that helpful, we could start thinking on that!

Sorry if it's a silly question haha, but (in crush/love) is Cove really aware of how cute and cuddly he seems to MC? If so, what does he think or do about it? Or does he just ignore it?

He isn’t particular aware. Cove never truly stops being surprised that the MC is interested in/attracted to him, haha.

Would you say that the alone ending of xoxo droplets is worth playing again to get?

Nope, haha. The goal is to make friends/get a boyfriend and so the alone ending is kind of the bad ending for the game. Though there is a consolation prize if you get it by accident.

Is there any possible situation which would ever prompt Pran to bake for his girlfriend? Like I know it's unlikely I mean even if JB broke her leg somehow I'm pretty sure he'd still be like "I considered baking you a cake and doing the frosting the way I think looks interesting but you don't deserve a cake, no one does." right but also ahhh it would be super nice if some day he just surprised her with baked goods one day out of nowhere. JB would be so shocked it would be cute. So is there any possible situation where that could/would be a thing that he would do?

He might bake out of spite, like if he felt he had to prove her wrong on something. Or if JB used some good reverse psychology on him. Or he might do it in a relatively nice way if he could make his GF so shocked by the kind gesture that his amusement with that overrode his insistence on not being sweet. Pran is very difficult in high school, aha.

Is the "one route (where) it can be seen that Everett will drop his seemingly eternal waging with Jeremy pretty easily and can start getting along without thinking much on it" the Lucas route? I'm curious!

Yep! Everett will side with Jeremy if it’s between him and Lucas.

Hi I hope you guys are having a great day :) I just had to ask how Cliff would feel about Cove's partner/fiancé Mc calling them dad whether it be accidental or otherwise and secondly I also wanted to ask how he would feel about being asked to be the one to give the mc away at their wedding.

He would be very touched and excited! I hope you have a good day too :D

Hello! I saw an ask relating to whether Cliff "moves on" after Cove's grown up and stuff (and he stays single), but what about Kyra? Will she be with anyone else or will she stay single?

She does start dating again, but she takes it slow.

Hi! I absolutely love the art for characters in OL and I wonder is this fine to draw my MC in same drawing style and upload online later? Is this something artists would be okay with? Thank you!

Yeah, you can certainly do that C:

Hey there!

I wonder if I'm just being stupid here.. Is Step 4 a DLC? And if so, where can I find it? I can't seem to find it on Steam :< Thank you!

Step 4 is a free epilogue! It’s not done yet, but once it is finished you’ll just update your game file and Step 4 will be there after Step 3 ends.

hi! are step 4 and the wedding dlc two different things?

They are. Step 4 is a free epilogue that’ll be a default part of the game once it’s done, the wedding DLC is an optional paid expansion that takes place after Step 4.

Why did Baxter not receive a step 2 sprite seeing how he shows up later

Sprites are time consuming to draw and take money out of the budget that could’ve gone to other things. His tiny appearance in Step 2 wasn’t worth all the effort to make a sprite, aha.

I just realized, what happens if if you get the patreon exclusive moment but at a later date, when you don't have the membership anymore, it's updated (like a bugs fix update for example)? Would you have to get the membership again?

You would have to get the membership again to redownload the build. But there’s very little chance there’s going to be an update once it’s been out for over a month. If a build gets released with errors, players catch/report them within the first few days. So by the time the first subscription period ends, any problems that were noticeable would already have been fixed. And we’re certainly not gonna be adding new content to it once it’s been released for a long time. There’s no need to worry about missing out on something worthwhile in the future if you cancel your membership. It’s being made with the idea in mind that many players are gonna be getting it and then going.

Hello! Wanted to ask about gaming choice in step 3? Once upon a playthorugh I got the option to buy Cove a bracelet for his graduation present. I played the same basic character again and that option wasn't there anymore. I'm not sure where I went wrong. My Cove wears a bracelet on each hand and my MC is into fashion and jewelry. Do I need to put an earring on him or? Sorry, love your game so much.

He also needs to have liked bracelets in Step 2 for that to be considered a good gift option for him. Sorry for the confusion! I’m happy you love the game :)

Is Step 4 being released at the same time as the Wedding DLC or will the first come before the latter? Thank you!

I’m not sure. Ideally they’ll come out at the same time, but the wedding DLC has a lot of art to get done and we may have to release it after Step 4.

Can mc still get confession from Cove at the end of step 3 even if mc casually dates Baxter in step 3? Such as in crush mode?

I don’t think so. Maybe that’ll change, but generally there’s differences to the Step 3 ending if you were dating Baxter and those differences likely will conflict with getting the Cove confession.

For the patreon moments/dlcs, will it be available for all tiers?

It’ll be available for tier 2 (Fans) and up!

#our life #xoxo droplets #gb patch #ask #gb patch games #Our Life Beginnings & Always

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