#for some reason i started from the outside so i ran out of space on the inside oops

[redrose10]

Finally here is the next chapter! Thank you to everyone that has been patient with me. I’m sorry this has taken so long. Hopefully I can get the next chapter out in a more decent time frame. Comments and messages welcome! Also if anyone wants to send a request for something small that I could write in a little bit of down time feel free! I’ll try to fit in what I can when I can.

Inn Keeper Yoongi x Female Author Reader

Summary: You have never experienced true love which is hilarious considering you write romance novels for a living. When you end up staying at The Interlude Inn located in Holly Falls you start to wonder if maybe the answer to your newest love story is sitting behind the welcome desk. Quickly, you find out that Min Yoongi hides a lot of pain and sorrow behind his shy smiles and quick glances.

Warnings: (may get updated) Swearing, character death, very very angsty for a while, mentions of physical and verbal abuse, bullying, a really mean letter, panic attacks, eventual light smut, eventual fluff

Word Count: 2,898

Tag List: @viankiss @kam9404 @igot7fairlyoddparents

After giving him some space you decided to leave the bedroom with Cherry following closely at your heels. Mae met you in the hallway. “He’s outside dear”., she whispered before heading off to her room. It still amazed you that she seems to always know what you’re thinking.

Just like she said you found Yoongi in the backyard sitting on bench near a very large maple tree. His shoulders were slumped over and he reached up wiping away a few tears. Cherry quickly ran over pawing at his leg begging to be picked up. Yoongi scooped up the small dog before looking up and finally noticing you standing there. Taking a deep breath you slowly walked over not wanting to startle him before taking a seat on the bench.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I don’t know what came over me. I can’t believe I just forced my first kiss on you. Can we please just pretend that never happened?”

You were honestly surprised that he spoke first, but the shake in his voice told you he was seconds from loosing it. You also noticed his skin was a deep red and his fingers trembled as he pet the dog in his lap.

“Yoongi you have no reason to be sorry. It’s okay to have feelings and emotions. And if you would’ve stayed I could’ve done this.”

Using your sudden burst of confidence you leaned over placing another kiss on his lips. “Y/N you don’t have to pretend to like me back. I don’t need a pity kiss from you. Besides you’re leaving in a couple days anyways so none of it matters.”, he sighed looking stunned.

“Um no I actually got the okay to stay here and continue to work so I’ll be here for a while as long as you and your grandmother will have me.”, you smiled. Subtly his lips curled into a small smile.

“Also that wasn’t a pity kiss and I do actually like you and would love to get to know you some more.”, you continued happily with the sudden shift in emotions. As much as you wanted to just pin him down and show him how much you liked him you knew something like that would probably make his head explode so you decided to go very very slowly.

Cherry gave his hand a few licks and you saw the biggest gummy smile making your heart swell.

The next morning you and Yoongi prepared a nice lunch to take over to Taehyung’s farm. You could tell he was extremely nervous about going there.

“Hey they are nice guys. They really do want to get to know you and be friends with you. I’ll be with you the whole time. I promise. And if it gets too much just let me know and we can leave.” He nodded in agreement as you made the walk up to the cafe.

Jin greeted the two of you with a huge smile before Taehyung came bounding out. He wrapped you both in big hugs and you made a mental note to let them know that Yoongi doesn’t do well with physical affection. The rest of the guys quickly trickled in taking a seat at one of the large tables.

You and Yoongi set out their lunches while Jin brought over some lemonades and a few strawberry coconut cookies for you and Yoongi to try.

The guys all tried their best to keep Yoongi a part of the conversation and really make him feel welcome. Surprisingly he seemed to enjoy himself, even making a joke that got quite a bit of laughter out of everyone. You could feel the confidence start to build in him and it made you smile. He really seemed to take a liking to Namjoon. It probably had something to do with the fact that Namjoon was a little calmer and more soft spoken than the rest of the guys.

You were just starting to clean up when the front bell rang signally a new customer had arrived. Everyone turned to look which was closely followed by gasps and soft groans. You didn’t noticed anything odd. It was just a woman about your age, but the way the tension filled the air told you something was off.

Looking next to you Yoongi was staring down at his hands that were positioned on his lap. He whispered so quietly you almost didn’t hear it, “Y/N can we please go home?”

“Yeah of course.”, you nodded not wanting to push him past his limit.

As you stood up the woman came walking over. The tall blonde excitedly exclaimed, “Oh hey guys! How are you? It’s been a while.”

Hobi cleared his throat, “Yep sure has Jae.” The rest of the guys remained silent except for Jin who was now standing behind the counter. “You can order over here.”, he motioned.

The woman began to walk over when she stopped in her tracks turning her attention towards Yoongi. Subtly his shoulders tensed up.

“Oh my God, Yoongi?! Min Yoongi? Is that you? I’m surprised you managed to leave your cave.”, she squeaked. Her voice sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

“Jae you can order over there with Jin. We’ll have it right out to you.”, Taehyung spoke up.

“Oh I will but I want to catch up with Yoongi here. I mean it’s been a long time. Since high school right?” Taehyung made another motion for her to walk away, but she ignored it and instead turned her sights on you.

“Yoongi has a girlfriend? No fucking way! You ended up being less of a weirdo than I thought you would Yoongles.”

The more she spoke the more you wanted to walk over and punch her perfectly straight teeth right out of her mouth.

“Jae that’s enough. Order or leave, now.”, Jungkook growled surprising you with his anger.

“Alright alright, I’m just gonna leave. This is why I rarely come back to this dump of a town anyways. I had heard this was a nice cafe, but if it associates with you people then it can’t be all that great.”

She began to walk out the door when you heard Yoongi sniffle next to you which set you off. Slamming your hands down on the table you stormed out of the cafe chasing after the woman.

“Excuse me, who the fuck are you? And why do you think you’re allowed to come treat people like that?”, you shouted inches from her face.

She laughed at you, “Oh not only are you his little girlfriend you’re also his watchdog too? I never took him as the type to go after strong willed and dominating girls, but then again he did try to go out with me once so I guess it makes sense.”

Her words hit you as you recalled Mae’s story about the dance. “ Oh you’re that girl who asked him to go to the dance, but instead played a mean prank on him. You’re repulsive and a terrible person.”, you spat slowly backing away in disgust.

“Oh please. That was like fifteen years ago and he’s clearly still not over it. He needs to grow up and move on. Maybe get some therapy or something.”

You scoffed, “He’s perfectly fine the way he is. Especially considering how awful he’s been treated for doing nothing but existing. I hope you receive the karma you deserve.”

It was her turn to scoff, “Listen I know you’re new here so you don’t really know Yoongi that well so I’m gonna give you some advice. Run. Run as far away from him as you can. He’s damaged goods. Broken. Weird. Fucked up. Whatever you want to call it. We tried to be nice to him back then. He’d run in terror whenever we got within five feet of him or he’d just glare at us. You’ll never have a normal relationship with him. He’ll never be able to fully love you so do yourself a favor and leave.”

You watched as she got in her expensive vehicle and sped off. Footsteps quickly ran up behind you before a hand grabbed onto yours. Spinning around you were met with Yoongi. His cheeks red as tears spilled from his eyes. “Please Y/N, can we go home?”, he begged barely able to speak. “Of course, let’s go.”, you nodded gently taking his hand. Running inside to grab your things you were overjoyed when Taehyung offered to drive you guys back to the inn. You took the middle seat in his truck making sure to help Yoongi in after you and cracking the wind into get him some air.

When you arrived at the Inn Yoongi quickly exited the truck and headed straight for the door. You gave Taehyung a quick thank you and goodbye and followed close behind. Thankfully Mae was nowhere to be found as you really weren’t in the mood to have to explain everything that had just happened.

Quietly you tiptoed down to Yoongi’s room before gently pushing open the door. He had already made himself comfortable under the covers.

You closed the door a little harsher than you had opened it so that he would know you were in the room with him and wouldn’t startle too much. You sat down on the bed and softly brushed some of the hair out of his eyes. His skin still warm and red.

“Are you okay?”, you asked barely above a whisper.

He nodded.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. You don’t deserve any of it and nothing she said is true.”

The room stayed silent except for the sound of Cherry’s nails hitting the hardwood from she were in the house.

“Maybe she is correct. I am broken and you should stay away. I’m not worth the trouble.”, he cried.

It took everything in you not to run and hunt that woman down.

“No Yoongi, you’re not broken. You are perfect the way you are and I’m willing to do what it takes to get you to see that.”, you replied wiping away the tears.

Wanting to give him some space you stood up and turned to face the door before feeling a hand grab your wrist.

“Please s-stay with me.”, he barely managed to get out.

Nodding you laid on top of the covers facing him watching as he slowly started nodding off as you continued to gently run your fingers through his hair.

You had no intention of falling asleep next to Yoongi, but here you were waking up several hours later. The light leaking through his dark curtains telling you that it was the following morning already.

Yoongi was still sleeping next to you. His lips opened to the slightest pout that made him look adorable. As gently and quietly as possible you got out of the bed and headed towards the kitchen making sure to close the door behind you.

Mae was already in the kitchen pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Ahh good morning Y/N. Looks like you and Yoongi had a fun night.”,

Instantly your eyes widened in panic, “Oh no no no, nothing like that happened. We just fell asleep I promise.”

“Relax dear. Jin stopped by to drop off some pastries and check on Yoongi. He told me everything. Besides, you and Yoongi are both adult. I don’t care what the two of you do as long as it’s not done in the kitchen.”, she laughed.

You let out an awkward chuckle unsure if she was being serious or not, but either way you didn’t want to find out.

“Here Y/N, try one of these muffins Jin dropped off. They are delicious!”, she exclaimed sliding one over to you.

Happily you took a bite and had to agree that they were incredible.

After a new bites and some silence Mae spoke, “I want to thank you Y/N, for standing up for Yoongi. No one has ever done that for him.”

“Oh it’s no problem at all. I’ve never been so angry before. I hate seeing people get treated like that.”

She nodded in agreement before packing up some of her belongings.

“Y/N sorry to run, but I’m gonna try and head out a little early today so that I can leave before Yoongi wakes up. I have an important doctors appointment and I just don’t want him to have that added stress after everything that happened.”

You agreed and helped her out to the car before heading back inside. You cleaned up your dishes and then decided to get some work done. The novel was coming along better than you had hoped and your boss was very happy with the progress, even making a joke that you should just move and live at the inn full time so you could keep churning out work like that. You knew it was a joke but a small part of you was really wondering if you could make that work.

A couple hours later you heard Cherry excitedly running through the inn which meant that Yoongi was awake so you made your way to the kitchen. He was sat at the table nibbling on a muffin. His hair was still ruffled and his eyes were surrounded by dark circles. He clearly didn’t slept as good as you thought he did.

“Good morning Y/N, do you know where my grandmother is by chance?”, he asked.

“Umm yeah she said she had to run into town for a few things. Should be back soon.”, you tried your best to lie.

“Oh I wonder why she didn’t ask me to go with her.”, he pouted.

“Any plans today?”, you asked trying to change the subject while handing him a cup of coffee.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe work in the garden a little.”

“That sounds nice. Do you care if I help?”

He shook his head so you quickly went off to change into some clothes that you wouldn’t mind getting dirty.

The two of you walked out to the garden with some tools in hand. Yoongi showed you how to pull some of the weeds and how to check if the produce was ripe or not. The way he so delicately touched everything kept you in awe. You were so mesmerized that in your daze you weren’t paying attention and instead of snipping the dead leaf off of the bush you were working on you missed and made a small cut on your thumb. Dropping the small garden shears and hissing out in pain you panicked as you saw the red liquid immediately start to pour from the wound. Not wanting to worry Yoongi you tried to discreetly look for a towel or rag, but it was too late and he and already noticed.

“Y/N are you okay? Come here.”, he said grabbing your non bleeding hand and pulling you into the kitchen. He took out the same first aid kit from under the sink and began cleaning and bandaging the wound.

You couldn’t help, but smile as you watched him work. His fingers softly brushed over your hand as he maneuvered the bandage and cleaned up.

“There!, good as new.”, he smiled.

When he looked up to meet your gaze you quickly leaned in an placed a soft kiss to his lips and then braced for him to up and run away, but to your shock he stayed.

“What was that for?”, he asked in a soft whisper.

You shrugged, “A thank you for taking care of me because I’m a klutz that was too busy admiring my cute gardening partner instead of paying attention to what I was doing.”

“Oh okay.”, he nodded and you’d be lying if you’d say that didn’t hurt a little until you saw a faint flush form on his cheeks.

Then he leaned in and placed another kiss to your lips, this one a little firmer and more confident.

“What was that for?”, you asked.

“A you’re welcome and because I think you’re cute too.”, he shyly smiled.

You started to lean in for an another kiss, but were stopped when the front door of the inn slammed open startling both of you.

“Hello, Yoongi?” Are you here?,” someone shouted.

“I’m sorry. I have to go check on that.”, Yoongi sighed, but you nodded in agreement.

He walked out to the front desk area to greet the guest so you finished cleaning up before hearing footsteps behind you.

When you turned around you weren’t expecting to find a very disheveled and upset Yoongi.

“Yoongi what’s wrong? What happened?”, you asked running over.

“We need to go…I need to go…It’s…She’s…”

Reaching for his arm you tried to soothe him, “Yoongi what’s wrong? I’ll help you. Just take a deep breath.”

“My grandmother is in the hospital. She had a heart attack while in town. I need to go see her.”

You nodded, “Okay let’s go.”

Thankfully the man that had came to tell Yoongi the news offered to drive you both to the hospital.

The two of you sat in the waiting room. Yoongi’s leg nervously bounced next to you as you grabbed his hand to reassure him you were there. You knew that things weren’t looking good, but you could only hope that his grandmother was going to be okay. You didn’t think his heart could take any more.

#bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #bts fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi fic #yoongi x y/n #bts x reader #yoongi au #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #jin #taehyung #jungkook #namjoon

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Brittle is Devotion

♡ featuring: ex-husband!toji x f!reader

♡ summary: it's been a while since you've seen your ex-husband, and on a drunken night, buried feelings emerge. wc: 12.2k+ (bruhhh)

♡ cw/tw: mentions of violence/blood, angst/comfort, rekindled feelings, rough sex, missionary, prone bone, full-nelson, overstimulation, cervix fucking, creampie, m/f receiving, throat fucking, sadism/masochism, dom/sub dynamics, squirting, fingering, praise/degredation kink, dumbification, edging, breeding kink, feral toji mmm, pet names (angel, sweetie, baby)

notes: good morning!! hope everyone is having a lovely day, i am so so so so sorry i haven't posted in so long i didnt abandon the account!! i've just been getting it together before the semester starts, and i didnt expect for it to be this long :(( im very tired but ill try to get some stuff out in the next couple of weeks, most likely long fics too. ty so much, and srry for any spelling mistakes. art by ilameys_ on ig! <;3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Picking up the pieces after Toji is rough. The divorce was bad enough, and you currently have an aching pain stilling in your chest that makes it hard to take the shallowest breaths. It hammers in the tight confines of your ribcage, and as you sob into your pillow the only relief you desire is sleep, so that you may have temporary solace from the grief wrecking your brain. Your new apartment feels entirely too shallow. There’s no crumby television to use because you were too broke to afford the higher-end appliances, or that creaking mattress you both squeezed into until you could thrift a reasonable headboard. You missed the 60s style tiles painted a horrific green in your kitchen, and the shower that ran out of hot water every other day. It was terrible, downright unlivable for most, but you had each other.  

It hurts more because you love him. So much. Unbearably, to the point where you screamed at the top of your lungs until your throat scratched through angry hot tears, begging him to care for a moment, to give you a reason to stay. Countless times, threatening to walk out if he didn’t endeavor to change. But he never believed you. He thought you’d never leave, because all you had was him.  

And it was true, for years it was. Toji was your dream man; funny and thoughtful. It wasn’t conventional kindness, but it was his. Money didn’t matter—even as you enjoyed a frozen meal on the floor of your empty apartment in the first couple months of moving in with him, you had a smile on your face. Even when your friends and family begged you not to marry him, because they couldn’t stand the sight of him and his arrogant, sometimes aggressive candor, you went on with it anyway. You knew who he really was at heart.  

He was your first everything, you felt if he left, you’d melt to nothing and become a shell of who you once were, because Toji had become an extension of you. You waited for him to get home, had dinner, and slept through the outside commotion of cars and bar fights; his securing arm locked around you, hand cradling your head and legs intertwined. There was no one like him.  

He knew that and got greedy.  

To you, the change was fast, but it’d been spreading like a nasty mold for years. You’d sunk so deep you hadn’t noticed the drought until you reached the bottom. He taught you love, then pulled away; separated himself with additional shifts and pathetic excuses. In turn you punished yourself, showered him with heavier instances of love and endearment, and convinced yourself you needed to try harder. If the sex wasn’t daily, you gave him more. If he didn’t like the food, you learned how to be a better chef. If the house wasn’t clean, you scrubbed top to bottom. Wringing a tired towel, dry of sacrifice. Chasing after him until the soles of your feet blistered. Still, not a smidge of praise or approval came to fruition. When he did—which was rare—those peppered spaces ignited a lasting burn in your heart, keeping withering fire alive.  

Soon, those fleeting kisses and distant pauses weren’t enough, and he didn’t care enough to change. You’d plead and cry at his feet, and he’d scoff and walk past you.  

“We’ll talk about it later”, he’d say more often than not. You didn’t have the confidence to leave, and he consumed himself with whatever underground work he participated in, while you decayed in a declining marriage.  

A grimace on his face, laid back on the couch and looking at you expectingly, as if you would drop to your knees and service him in a heartbeat—but you did exactly that. And you were tired, utterly tired of pulling the emotional and mental leaden baggage on your own. It was heavy, and you were crushing yourself underneath it. You still loved him with every inch of your being, and you’d do it all for him, but it couldn’t be just you anymore. He came home one fateful night to you sitting at the dining table, spotlighted under the stark glass pendant lamp in your dark apartment, dejection that foreshadowed the unfortunate end.  

“Do you love me?” He gazed at your solemn face and scratched his head.  

“Mhm.”  

“Will you change?”  

“No.”  

That’s what you needed to hear. The next week, while he was at work, you gathered your clothes and measly possessions to leave. You sobbed the entire way through, shaking with uncertainty and fear of the unknown—unsure about a future without him. As you slid the dissolution of your marriage on the counter, the sudden reality made you unable to control your knees as you dropped to the floor, and tears spilled down your cheeks and freckled the papers. Luckily, Shoko was there to comfort you and help pack your things. The corners of that confinement spared a gentle, loving memory, and vitriol was left in its wake. Turning back to its hollowness for the last time, you imagined Toji, plopping onto the couch as he’d usually do to watch some late-night television show or going to bed. Like you weren’t there.  

Maybe you never mattered in the first place. 

It’s been a year since, and things are looking up for you. An opportunity surfaced in a field you were interested in applying for, and you miraculously got the job. Moving over a city helped you adjust to your new life—that, and a bottle of dark burning liquor. No matter how much you mindlessly typed at your computer or partied with coworkers, you couldn’t stomach the pit gorging through you, a hole that surfaced everything you’d been burying. 

You’re not prepared to face the forlorn mock of your bleached walls today. As you pry your eyes open, the flickering shimmers through your sheer curtain cast across unattended sheets, soothed by stuffed animals strung along the comforter. You reach for something that isn’t there in your groggy state—a gentle reminder that your morning would be just as empty as yesterday. 

Today isn’t any other; it’s what would’ve been your five-year anniversary. One year, of new beginnings and new friends. A year of solitude.  

You don’t bother slinking out of bed. The accumulation of tasks awaiting you is more daunting than the actual execution. In an attempt to regain control of your life, you established a healthy routine. It entails waking up at early hours to exercise and work on projects and meal prep, and ending your night early with extra exercise and skincare. It was amazing at first and quelled your sadness. What they didn’t inform you of, was the spectacle; the appearance and perception of perfection, and not the struggles or gradual burnout of maintaining that lifestyle. When the distraction died down, and work and social activities became a congealed, monstrous chore, you quickly resented those limp salads and vomit-inducing runs. 

You expel a loaded sigh and pull the covers over. 

The vibration of the phone buzzing on your stomach peels your eyes awake. You allow it to pass, but it rings again. From a frustrated exhale, your languid hands muster the strength to flip to its notification; Shoko’s calling.  

“Hello?” you mutter, fatigue caught in your throat. 

“Fuck, you sound like hell!” she replies. The repetitive clack of office keyboards and analog phones being slammed by stressed out coworkers distorts the background. Thank God I used my paid time off. 

“I love you too, Shoko.” 

“Sorry, didn’t mean it like that…you ok?” It’s much sweeter. Shoko has always been a supportive friend, perhaps bordering on too supportive. You cherish her motherly concern, and rather vulgar honesty. 

“Mm, I’ll manage.” 

“I can come over after work.” You flip onto your back, soaking in the mild sunlight. 

“S’alright, I’m sure you’re busy, and I might sleep in. Wallow in sorrow for a few hours.” Shoko drawls a dramatic groan and creaks back in her chair. 

“Nothing good comes out of feeling sorry for yourself. Go to the club or somethin’.” 

“‘N how’s that gonna help?” 

“Better than whining at home. Wear something sexy, look pretty and get laid. That’s how I get over shit.” 

“Mm, right. I don’t know if that’s gonna work” you giggle, toying with one of the ears on your stuffed bunny. 

“Oh yeah, forgot you’re the born-again Virgin Mary now. You know… if you want to get over ‘him’, you have to take the first step.” You can envision her air quotations. She treats his name as forbidden speech, and regularly refers to it in conversation as “he who shall not be named.” 

“Ugh, mother Shoko’s speaking.” 

“Listen, it may or may not work. Don’t knock it ‘till you try it is all I’m saying.” 

“Yea? Well, if he has a tiny dick, I’m blaming you.” 

“Nothing wrong with shellfish.” 

The last curl falls in place, and you follow it up with copious amounts of hairspray. Fanning your bathroom after a drawn out coughing fit, you get a good look at your figure in the mirror. The backless lacy black dress you’re wearing hugs you in all the right places and guides the detail sitting tight under your butt. It’s undoubtedly revealing, coupled with strappy heels and a dark cat eye.  

You walk past your vanity and pause at the messy jewelry box, riddled with remnants of Toji’s adoration. Sparkling varieties of heavy necklaces and rings and precious diamonds; ninety percent of your jewels were because of him. You’d asked if he stole the items he gifted you, and he’d come up with an elaborate sarcastic story about a jewelry heist he carried out, and how appreciative you should be. Buried underneath rested your engagement ring, a sparkling cut that crowded your entire finger. You couldn’t bring yourself to pawn it, opting to occasionally revel in its beauty before shoving it in a far corner with your feelings. 

Shoko wasn’t lying about how sexy you’d feel dolled up, and it shows in your confidence as you modeled around your bedroom, striking poses to no one. Your plushies weren’t very appreciative of the full-blown fashion show, but you hadn’t felt like this for a long while. Maybe it was about time you entered the dating scene. 

The entrance to Infinity appears as a run-down tacky club from an outdated era, and it’s easy to miss the multicolored flashes dotting the black tinted glass on each side. A few steps past the black and white checkered vestibule, and you get to experience the scale of a roaring, clashing club. It’s not half as lively on the outside; sweat dripping under twinkling lights of multicolor, bodies colliding and moving to the melodic sway of erratic music vibrating through the floor, freely drowning and expelling their insecurities, deepest struggles. It’s both welcoming and hopeless.  

A woman balances her shot glass as she gyrates against a stranger while another stumbles off the dance floor in a drunken stupor. The heat and screams are overstimulating, circulating around you. You consider withdrawing, especially since you held some reservations about partying solo. However, this is what you need, to get comfortable with doing things by yourself. 

So you down shots, two, three, burning of different varieties that heighten your body temperature and nerve. You throw back a mix of dark and white liquor, a dangerous combo that dizzies your vision and runs up an unfathomable tab you can't afford. The strangers accompanying you at the counter encourage you. No rational thoughts, let alone decision making, register in your alcohol-sodden mind. Like strings being fielded by a puppeteer, your legs move on their own to the dance floor.  

It’s hot. The blurring iridescence bends to produce shapes that make your fuzzy brain giggle for some odd reason. You’re moving in slow motion, and the world’s continuing at max speed. You don’t care either way. You’re light on your feet, and the music goads you to dance. Spinning, hands tangled between your locks traveling down the curve of your thighs, hearing the lyrics inside and out as if no one is watching. 

You dance with women and men alike, anyone willing to help you overlook your heartache. It’s floaty, an airiness that spills sober thoughts from cotton mouth and makes every touch electrifying. It’s in your legs and arms, your restless feet and fingers. You laugh hysterically, incomprehensibly, and switch to sadness in a heartbeat. These aimless bodies, just as lost as you, drinking to your despair. Was it worth the abyss tomorrow held, or the agonizing headache as a result? 

After those dances, mainly flailing efforts at rhythm, your head is barreling. You’re suffering from a heavy case of vertigo at the slightest turn, and your stomach’s riddled with knots. It hits you like a car crash, and you strive to stabilize yourself as bile fills your throat, cringing when you reluctantly swallow. A disorienting slurry of words and faces ask you things you cannot hear or see, and it suddenly becomes too real. 

In few sparse moments, your life plays before you in stop motion. From heaving over the toilet while a lady with long nails held your hair back, to knocking the drink out of someone’s hand on your way out. Now you’re walking on one heel and holding the other. You might’ve popped a nail if not for security holding the door open. They attempt to flag you, but you reply with a curt slurred “‘M fine.”  

You push your knees together, sitting on the corner of a curb. This isn’t how you expected the night to end. It’s pitch black beside street lamps, and awfully quiet in contrast to inside. Shivers ripple through you despite the persistent warmth pooling in your ears. You lean on a street lamp in the calm cold as people leave, probably running to participate in intimate affairs with their acquaintances. The gentle hand on a waist or shoulder forms a subconscious smile; young, passionate love blooming on a random night. 

And you burst into tears.  

Ugly tears streaming down your face in blobs that don’t stop no matter how much you wipe them, followed by deep sniffles. They smear across your phone while you search for a taxi app, and your cloudy eyes deceive you. 

You jolt when a hand brushes against your arm and turn to meet the foggy face of a man with stubble. You wipe your wet cheeks and lean further from him.  

“Hey baby, you alright?” The pet-name makes you shudder. You definitely don’t know him, and at this point there’s no one outside. 

“Wh’re you?” you garble. 

“Kusakabe. Where ya off to?” 

“Waitin’ for uh frien’” Your eyelids waver, failing to stay alert under the frightening stare burning holes through your skull.  

“A friend, huh…you gotta man?” he asks, stepping closer to you. You back away to the side of the light. 

“Go away.” You’re definitive, but he laughs as if it were the ridiculous request of a child. 

“I like that dress. You look hot.” His hand drags along the strap of your dress, but you nudge his hand.  

“Mm’get off me. N’don’ need your help.” He scoffs with offense, and as you go to leave, he grabs your wrist firm. 

“Relax. Tryna go home with someone tonight?” You’re trembling, tugging with as much force as you can muster in your punch-drunk state, but he doesn’t budge. 

“L’ve me alone” 

“Don’t be like that, baby. I’ll call a cab-” 

Whack! Your wrist goes limp, and the crunch and crack of flesh hitting concrete echoes. You sluggishly pan to him, knocked out cold beyond the spotlight. The influence takes you, however, and you nearly find yourself joining him on the sidewalk. Before you can fall, a broad, rough hand supports your lower back. Their deep gritty tone is inches away from you. 

“C’mon, sweetheart.” 

You rise from an unusually sweet slumber. The light shines through your eyelids, unavoidable even when you maneuver the velvety warm blanket for shade. Your eyeballs shift across thin skin being prodded by intrusive sun, and as they crack open, you catch a glimpse of the glass coffee table in front of you, arranged with perfection resembling a furniture showroom. You smile to yourself half-asleep, wondering when you bought such an expensive item, and how an abundance of sunlight made its way through your average window. You’re drifting off anew. 

Then, you shoot up. 

You start to really take in the surroundings, and when you do, a pit drops in your stomach. An ultra-wide flat screen television faces you, decorated with plants on either side. Craning your neck, the long windows of this penthouse line the adjacent wall up to the ceiling, which hangs a glass geometric chandelier. This isn’t your bedroom, nor your apartment.  

 Instantly you switch to sitting, and recoil just as fast. Pain envelops the wrinkles of your brain, and you wince from abrupt tension. You palm the bridge of your nose. 

“Fuck” you whisper. Last night replays in your head through staccato bursts, though you couldn’t remember the minutes before you passed out. Embarrassment creeps onto your ears at the freak show you performed hours ago. You’d made a fool of yourself, puked and tripped like a sloppy drunk college girl. You can’t be more ashamed, and to top it off, you’re in the house of a stranger you possibly slept with. You look down from the smooth sectional sofa, and notice your heels arranged neatly beneath you with your phone and bag. At the very least, the man you engaged with seems to be accommodating.  

You scurry to put your heels on, and hopefully sneak out in silence before you face further humiliation. Something about this blanket smells familiar; musk and oakmoss and man, grazing across your nose like the aroma in an intimate embrace, the earthy dew of calm before a storm, a trace only you can understand. 

“Finally up?”  

It’s that gravelly smoky voice you lived in for five years, and some before that. The voice you fell asleep to, mumbling nonsense in your ear through boorish snores. The voice you fell in love with, easily saying “I do” when you wedded at the courthouse. The voice you resent, saying nothing at all when you cried. 

You look behind you, and there he is, walking down the staircase. He’s wearing boxers, settled under the tufts of hair running down his belly button. His rugged muscles peek out from the untied black robe dangling to his strong calves. His hair grew out a bit since you’ve last seen him, shaggy bedhead running across his eyes and covering his ears. 

He smirks the same, though, sweet and soft for such a dour man, like nothing ever happened, approaching you while you sneer at the cruel joke bestowed upon you. 

“Toji.” You haven’t said it in forever. It’s abashing how quickly your regularly tense shoulders relax in his proximity.  

“How ya feelin’? Hope the couch was comfortable enough, figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in my bed” he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he stretched his sturdy back.  

“It was fine.”  

There's an awkward quiet afterwards. The air’s thick, glass straining under pressure, threatening to give way at the smallest disturbance. 

Toji clears his throat. “So, um...you need somethin’? Water?” 

“No” you bark, folding your arms across your chest. You can’t look at him, not without feeling enraged. You’re the afterthought, the chaser, rushing after a man who wouldn’t dare look twice. “How’d you even know I was there?” 

“Coincidence” he replies, and you scoff. He couldn’t get away with lying to you; playing games with moves you’ve lost to countless times. 

“Like hell it was a coincidence. I’m in a completely different city now, what were you doing there?” You have to physically bite back the words begging to spill from your mouth as his head wanders in thought, possibly concocting another fabrication. 

“Had business” 

“Oh, I’m supposed to believe the man who hates keeping a job had ‘business’. Okay.” You don’t acknowledge the extravagance of the apartment he must be paying for monthly. That, or a chain of illegal activities—whatever assumption suited your irritation in the moment. 

“Well, ya wouldn’t believe me no matter what I said, anyway” he chides. You’re a shaken bottle ready to explode, and his nonchalant demeanor only eggs you on. Toji’s perpetually dismissive, looking down on you like a pitiful puppy. 

“Because you’re always full of shit” you snap. He exerts a loaded sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, as if he had any right to be tired of the situation. 

“’M not lyin’.” 

“Right.” You observe your surroundings more. It’s too opulent, pricey vases you wouldn’t expect from the ex-husband that once thought hanging jackets in the doorway was “decoration.” Definitely not fit for a single guy. You’re separated, and you know it's not your responsibility to keep tabs on his sex life, but that caviling thought won’t stop taunting you. How could he get over it so soon?  

“If you were just gonna bring me back to your fuck pad, I should’ve slept on the curb. Who knows how many girls you’ve had here.” 

He gets eye-level, sitting on the coffee table with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together like a drained salaryman, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“What’s wrong with me? You can’t be serious. Like you never do anything wrong, like everything that’s happened until now is somehow my fault and you did nothing, nothing, to contribute to the bullshit. Stop acting like a fucking victim.” 

“Little lady, you got shitfaced, and some guy was tryna take your drunk ass home. You’re lucky you went home with me instead.” 

“I could’ve handled it; I don’t need you for anything-” 

“You could barely keep your eyes op-” 

“I would’ve handled it! Just like I handle everything else. Alone. Every time. It gets done, I’m not incompetent, Toji!” 

You could hear a pin drop in the stillness. Those forested eyes are gazing into your soul. It’s said and done, and you’ve got it off your chest, yet it hurts like a freshly sliced gash. The arguing doesn’t change, married or not. It sucks when you shout, uncontrollable like a blazing fire, only to be snubbed out by his calm, condescending tone. 

“...I know.”  

You can’t take it, it’s stifling being near him. Wounds loosely covered by band aids seem to peel at his presence, and you’re stuck at his mercy again. You can’t give him the satisfaction of crying in addition to the drunk, poor decisions you made, hardening your expression as you fumble for your phone. 

“Take me home” you demand. Toji stands with an exaggerated stretch on both arms, painfully slow. Before you can hurl your phone at him from the dramatics, he looks down on you with that intoxicating gaze. 

“Are ya hungry?” 

You furrow your brows, and hastily put on the other shoe. Turning on your heels, you go to leave, and are immediately stopped by Toji's calloused hand holding your wrist. You don’t watch, but his palm is gentle. You could smoothly slip out and exit his apartment, forget this engagement and continue a peaceful, isolated life. You’d move on eventually—perhaps to bigger, happier jobs and romances. 

 Despite that hopeful outcome, you remain.  

“I don’t wanna eat. If you don’t take me home, I'll call a cab.” 

“I’ll take ya home, just...look, I know you’re hungry, and I’m down to eat at a diner down the block. Don’t worry about a thing, I’ll pay for it.” Toji isn’t known for being docile, but with his curved posture almost leaning into you and dejection in his eyes, you swear he’s searching for pity. 

“I said I’m not-,” The untimely arrival of your dinning, rumbling stomach cuts off any excuse. A corner of his mouth upturns, and your face contorts to scorned pride. 

“...Fine. Let’s make it quick.” 

“Great. Can’t have ya walkin’ around like that, though.” He pans to your chest. You haven’t thought to give your outfit a glance, but when you do, your eyes grow wide. The entirety of your conversation with Toji, your chest was spilling out the dress, and now part of your areolas is exposed. You cover up the top, but he stares with an x-ray's invasiveness. You reprimand him, swatting his chest; 

“Pervert!” 

There was an added benefit to being around Toji; the way people cleared a path for him and treated him with frightened kindness, afraid that pissing off the physically intimidating man would land them a one-way ticket to the nearest hospital.  

They weren’t exactly wrong, and you have a satisfied pep in your step as people scoot aside. He strides in front of you to get the door, and you mutter a small “thank you.”  

Sweet fluffy pancakes and charred grills mingle with faint notes of bleach. At least he knew better than to take you to a fancy establishment, especially since you were wearing a baggy t-shirt from him, and basketball shorts you had to tie around the waistband. His massive slides had you flopping across the dining aisle as you got to your booth. He’s not particularly dressed either, wearing matching shorts and a compression top. 

It’s hard not to perceive the way women ogle him, drooling at the way his biceps flex when he raises the menu, and his chiseled jaw tensing while he ponders the food options. It was a notable problem when you were married. They’d glare at you, shower him with compliments in front of you, and you’d shrink yourself. Occasionally the waiter would pretend you don’t exist as she swayed her hips at every little thing Toji said. If they want him, they can have him. It’s not your business, right? It’s no different with this waiter, twirling the curl of her hair as Toji reiterates his order, shifting from one leg to the other to highlight her curves.  

Not my business. You're nauseous.  

Not my business. Your fists clench underneath the table. 

Your head’s swimming in thoughts, uncertainty crashing down like a wave upon your increasingly loud intrusions. You drown within yourself, until you’re pulled out by a thumb travelling up your hand, and other fingers clasping around it. 

“Watcha wanna order, angel?” You regain composure, and when you blink, Toji is waiting for you. The waiter side-eyes you and the joining of your hands.  

“You lost? Take her order” he spat. 

The food's steaming hot and fresh, and you salivate at the plate in front of you. Toji snatches your bacon before you can, and you begrudgingly watch as he breaks the strips into two pieces, the way you like it. He winks, and you groan. You coat your strawberry pancakes with maple syrup, trespassing territory around the scrambled eggs and bacon, and he laughs across from you. 

“What’s funny?” 

“Never stopped drowning your breakfast in syrup” he ribs. You pout and swirl your bacon, “It makes it taste better.” 

Soon, food in your belly aided your dialogue, and the old banter returned; an easygoing flow, similar to a lifelong friend you hadn’t spoken to in decades. You giggle between bites and gossip about mutual rumors. 

"What you been doin’ since..." Toji trails off, falling short of “divorce”—a word he never wants to say. 

"Shoko recommended me to her boss, so I'm working uptown now. Pay's okay, nothing to write home about."  

"S'good. Livin comfortable?"  

"As comfortable as I can be"  

"Real humble. Guessin’ it's better than before" he jokes, though you sense a displace in his bearing at the nervous grin he flashes. You reach onto to his side and grab one of the grapes off his plate. You pop one in your mouth, "So, what drug ring got you that house?"  

"The cartel. Good vacation time, too" he jests. 

"Nice. at least it's not that shitty garbage gig you had for a while."  

"It did pay well."  

"Yeah? Couldn't get rid of the rotten milk and vomit smell for weeks after. Remember I made you shower at Geto’s apartment?" 

“Heh, yeah, he was fuckin’ pissed” he laughs, stealing a piece of sugary bacon from the syrup pool. "I'm a CEO, run a company downtown."  

"Ooo, look at you. Can't be little if it did this much for you" you say as you gesture at the empty dishes on the table. Restaurants were a luxury in your household. 

"I guess. I had a vision, and some people believed in me”, he pokes at the leftover blueberries, “I finally made it happen, that counts for something, right?"  

You pick another off his plate, smile stretching, "You're a natural born leader. People will follow you regardless, even if it's not the right choice."  

His eyebrows raised in surprise, "That's the first good thing you said about me today."  

"Don't get used to it." 

You wait for Toji to retrieve his car after walking back to his apartment. You’re awestruck in many ways; he paid for the whole meal with a black card and showed undying manners. He bowed to your requests. You’re smarter than this, though. This is his opportunity to get on your good side, and he’s showing the best version of himself. However, it fills your heart with want—like the initial dating phase, those butterfly stricken, heart-numbing, sappy gestures that made you melt.  

He wraps around the car to open your door, and you plant yourself in the sleek beige interior. Your eyes flick to the veins in his forearm straining as he steers, his deadpan focused expression and the composed R&B music low in the background. It starts to drizzle, and raindrops plink the car roof. 

You feel complete; And that alone is a dreadful reality. 

The scar on his lip twists to a smile, “Did’ya like the food?”  

You turn your nose up, “it was satisfactory.” He snickers, and navigates to the street your apartment is on. “Shit, I gotta give you your clothes back.” 

“Forget it, bring it when you get the chance.” Chance. He expected to see you again. You hang your head as he approaches the complex. You didn’t want today to end, but this is it. You’ll leave this car and go your separate ways. This is how it should be.  

You place an earnest hand on his shoulder and cast a smile. The corners quiver and your first syllable wobbles, but you finally speak, “I’m proud of you, Toji. I mean it. You’re going to do great things, and I’m always rooting for you.”  

He swallows stiff, and suddenly he’s sickly pale. Something within you is pleased at that reaction; if he wants redemption, he should beg and drop to his knees and crawl for forgiveness, he should lock himself up for your eyes only and cut off everyone else in his life. You’re walking away a second time, rightfully so, but you struggle to decipher what you want in this moment. He palms your hand, staring at you, “I’m all for praise, but tell me when we meet again” 

“Toji, there can’t be a next- “ 

“Give me your phone.” 

“Huh?” His urgency throws you off guard, “Don’t think, just give me your phone.” It’s impossible to kill the complicated slurry that is your mind, and a new bundle of thoughts emerges from his request, but for a heartbeat, you allow yourself to wander. Pitter patter and muted music, heated seats, the cologne radiating from Toji—all that exists. 

 You moved on instinct, and now your phone is in Toji’s hands. He's adding his contact information. He hands it back to you, fingers brushing against your soft skin.  

“I won’t text or call you. ’S there whenever you need me. Move at your own pace and call me when you’re ready.” With that, you exit his car. No hug or gratitude, skipping goodbyes as you rush out the car. It’s bittersweet when he pulls off, and you’re left with the ghost of him.  

The familiar click of your convoluted keys in the apartment door could bring you to tears. You’ve officially reverted to your mundane, boring lifestyle. The walls look duller today. 

You curiously click on his contact, and giggle at the name he assigned himself: 

dumbass ex 

tick, tock, tick, tock 

The blue light beaming through your office computer is an eyesore, but you have little say in the matter. There's an upcoming deadline for these reports, you can’t waste precious skill complaining about circumstances out of your control. It’s tiresome, and you rove to the cobweb missing a string in the corner of the room, or the single drop of water roaming outside those wide sterile windows. The balls of your feet carry your flats as you absentmindedly push a pen against your lip. 

Your concentration has been out of commission since meeting Toji. He kept his word and hadn’t called you whatsoever. A month passed, and still nothing. Be glad, you told yourself, get your goals back on track. Your exercises get vicious, from jogging to a full sprint, hoping that those buckets of sweat will shed off the extra weight of Toji’s abidance. The fruit bowl on your break offends you with mocking displays of strawberries and grapes. You’ve pondered deleting the contact entirely to repel enticement, but you can’t do it. It’s painfully clear that you miss him. 

He’s horrible, callous and selfish. Of course, Toji had a way of showing up at your lowest to fill your head with empty promises and gestures of affection, that charming grin shooting daggers at your weakness. In his gaze, you’re defenseless, and in his arms, you’re exposed.  

Albeit late, a pestering thought carves into you, unfortunate and disgraceful to the healing you strive to accomplish; message Toji. 

A set of wheels rolls above the carpet, and you see Shoko, lifeless arms hanging beyond the armrests. The bags under her eyes signify stress from finalizing late papers.  

“Unnghhhh, (Y/N), I can’t do it” she laments, drooping her head to the side. You pat the top of her hair, “I believe in you.” 

“What are you working on?” She quirks a brow, and you stare at the screen with her. You’ve typed an entire page of straight gibberish. “I’m getting distracted too...” 

“Let’s quit and tell her to shove it.” 

“You know I can’t do that” you fuss as you backspace the document. “Mm, me neither. What’s got you zoned out?” 

“Nothing in particular.” You’re afraid to tell Shoko of your rendezvous, she might become volcanic and fire magma at the sound of any “-oji”. 

“I know it’s not nothing. New boyfriend, hm?” 

“S-something like that” you chuckle. She shapes an ‘O’ with her mouth, and wheels closer. Her bangs touch your eyebrows, and she rests her chin on her hand. Her usual dead eyes have a malicious twinkle in them. 

“What’s he like? Is he tall or short?” she gasps, “did you meet him at the club? I told you it was a good idea; I really am the best advisor.” 

You sigh, “It’s no one new.” 

“Ooo, an old flame. Spicy. What’s his name?” You turn slowly, a nervous bite on your lips. She studies your face, and slowly hers drops. 

“Do not fucking say it.” 

“Shokoooo” you whine, searching for sympathy from her. Instead of that, your body is shaken violently as she whisper-yells, “Are you kidding? Get a grip! What’s gotten into you, you were fine!” 

“But I wasn’t. It sucks, I feel lonely all the time.” 

“You felt lonelier with him than without him!” 

“I know, but...” You ball your lips in with furrowed brows, and she holds her breath. 

“I wanna go see him” you squeak. Instantly, she squishes your cheeks with both hands to hold you in place. 

“Absolutely. Fucking. Not.” 

At home, you pace back and forth in front of the phone resting on your bed. Toji’s contact is open, and nausea is brewing in your stomach. You’re giddy and ill, working up the courage to press “call”. You really should be practicing Shoko’s advice, but you’ve long surpassed common sense. You leave and come back, spying on it from a distance. Eventually, you forgo the theatrics and grab the phone to hit the messenger app. 

Three dots vanish and resurface. You can’t get it right:

'Hey stranger I got custody of ur clothes rn' 

'Hey haha I missed u can I come over?' 

'Yo what’s up? Still have ur clothes do u want them?' 

'I’m coming to give u ur stinky clothes' 

This shouldn’t be complicated, and you don’t usually perform the process of elimination for simple responses, but it’s Toji. You’re scrambling and overanalyzing, reiterating your choice of slang only to delete it all over again. You settle for a simple message. “Hey Toji, I wanted to return your clothes. Let me know when you’re available. Thanks”  

Once you hit send, you run a marathon around your bedroom, tippy tapping to expel your anticipation. The churning grows as seconds pass, and so does your doubt. You tiptoe to the phone as if a displaced floorboard would activate the alarm. You’re about to tap the screen, and then your ringtone plays.   

Oh god. 

You take a deep breath and swipe right on the faceless profile picture labeled “dumbass ex”.  

“…Hello?” 

“Hey, angel.” You avoid a dull pound in your chest at the memorable pet name. “So, um-“  

“I wanna see you. I’m available now, and I’ll be home by the time you get here” he states, direct and confident. His conviction validates yours, you bend to his direction. 

“Okay then. I’ll start getting ready.” 

“I’ll send a cab to your address. See you soon.” When he hangs up, you dive into the pile of plushies. Squeezing them for emotional support, kicking your feet in the air as you scream into your ruffled pillows like a girl’s first crush. You have a long night ahead of you. 

You access Toji’s building. He must’ve notified them you were coming, as the doors were open upon arrival, and a bellhop was sent to guide you to his floor. You’re standing outside of it, clothes and a bottle of champagne in hand. Your stretchy maxi dress clings to your figure, complimenting the juicy shade of lip gloss you’re wearing—the shade he loved most on you during your marriage. You ring the bell, and it doesn’t take long before he opens the door. The scene you’re exposed to swells heat between your legs. 

Toji has nothing but a towel shimmied low on his hips, v-line adorned with veins and biceps corded with muscle. He’s trimmed his hair since your last encounter, and it’s dripping wet along with the rest of his soaked body. You’ve interrupted his shower apparently, but he didn’t hesitate to rush to the door, water cascading from the raven veil, sluicing down his sculpted chest. He had to have done this on purpose, but you weren’t complaining at this point; he looked damn good doing it. You can’t disengage from the beads branching amid his pecs and through his happy trail. God, you wish you were water personified right no- 

“You’re staring, dollface” he teases with a smirk. Your eyes snap to his, and you remember to breathe. You clumsily hold up the liquid peace offering, “Brought a little something.” 

“Thanks. Make yourself comfortable, I’m gonna get dressed.” You nod, and he marches upstairs. You don’t need comfortability; you need to be in and out of here before you do something you’ll regret.  

But...is that cedarwood and vanilla? The interior gives off romantic energy at night, attractive dim lighting throughout and dull flickering pops of his fireplace in the living room. You find the source of that heavenly scent sitting on his kitchen island, and awkwardly place the bottle down. You don’t know what to do with yourself, more so you don’t know what to say. It’s hard to recite a script when things aren’t going according to plan. Did you want to apologize, or force him to apologize? Maybe you should’ve cursed him out, rehashed his asshole behavior from the past until he drowned in guilt. You want to kiss and slap him, cry in his arms until your voice gives out and disappear all at once.  

There’s a beautiful clear vase in the center, crammed with your favorite flowers, and your fingers dance across the petals. “You like ‘em?” he asks stepping into the kitchen. His hair’s still saturated, but he’s sporting grey sweatpants and a black ribbed tank top. “They’re very pretty.” 

“They’re for you.” 

You switch between his playful expression and the burst of colors, “You don’t have to do that.” The bouquet evokes recollections of heated arguments—anytime he’d angered you to tears, and you slammed that bedroom door in his face, you always woke up to similar flowers on the floor. They were cheap, but it meant more than money; because despite the fights and disagreements, it let you know that he’d love you regardless. 

“I wanted to. As thanks for bringing my clothes.” He’s pacing towards you, and you’re bound to the floor like melting wax. His gaze is captivating, and you’re entranced by the verdurous ardor that won’t deter from you. 

“Thank you”, you say as he looms above you and inspects the scripture on the pale bottle. His large thumb blocks the intricate lettering he’s trying to read, “I should be thanking you. Didn’t think you’d ever message me.” 

You can feel the body heat radiating off him, the airy words as he mouths the contents. His eyebrows furrow to follow his focus, while you lose yours.   

“I-I should probably get going-” Without delay, Toji blocks your side with an iron grip on the island, trapping you in the confines of his broad wingspan. 

“Leaving so soon? You got plans tonight?” Saying and doing are completely different stories, and from the way your feet haven’t moved, you aren’t in a rush to go anywhere. 

“Not really, but I worked today and I’m kinda tired-”  

“Then what better way to unwind than with a bottle? I can’t drink this by myself, might as well keep me company” he suggests, persuasion to a greater extent when your lower back hits the bar. A drink or two couldn’t hurt, right? 

“I guess I can stay for a few minutes.” Toji flashes a victorious toothy grin and retrieves cups from the sink cupboard. He gives you a rounded glass, and his muscles flex below candlelight as he maneuvers the cork at an angle. 

“Let’s crack this open” he says, popping the cap off and pouring a substantial amount of golden fizz into both cups. 

Toji raises his glass, “A toast.” 

You tilt your head but raise yours as well. “To what?” 

“Us.”  

Us is a funny thing—with enough effort, it becomes you and I just as quickly as it formed. You don’t know if you’re willing to accept the responsibility of eternity. The devastation of commitment could damage you forever. There’s no us, but there’s you and him. So, you clink your glass, “To us,” and his eyes never leave yours as he takes a swig. It lasts a lifetime among longing breaths and unsaid words. 

He brings the champagne to the living room, “I’ll turn on a movie. You know that cheesy romcom shit you used to watch? They made a sequel.” You fall flat on containing your excitement. He grabs the remote and lays back with his thighs spread apart.  

Toji pats the couch, “Come sit. Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” You hardly believe that, but you remove your heels and relax upon overstuffed cushions. You opt to sit farther on the couch, and there’s an annoyed twitch on his lip at your display of boundaries. Nevertheless, he starts the movie. 

Toji’s not particularly sneaky. He announces multiple bathroom breaks, returning to a spot on the couch that’s inconspicuous, but inching closer to you. The intent becomes clear when the ghost of his shoulder knocks against you, spreading his thighs wider to brush against the softness huddled into your snug figure. You’re half paying attention to the cliché performance, and half observing Toji. It’s hard not to smile when he behaves like a disobedient dog obligated to sit.  

It’s cute that he arced himself to be eye-level with you. His tank rode up to expose his lower abdomen, and he adjusts himself in his sweats, jaw occasionally clenching. It could be the drink talking, perhaps you’ve had too many.  

The movie ends, and you exhale a sigh of relief. “I forgot how corny this shit is.” 

Toji shrugs, “I didn’t think it was too bad.” 

“No way, you actually liked it?” you gasp. He huffs out his nose, smiling, “People change.” 

“I’m shocked” you quip. Dusk creeps into a descending sunset, and you steal a glance at your phone screen. Bright as day, a notification from Shoko emerges. “NO TOJI >:(" 

You’re stumped thinking of a reply, one that doesn’t compromise your less-than-ideal situation, when Toji puts his hand over the screen. “Hope I’m not gettin’ ya in trouble.” 

“Like you care.” He chuckles and slides it to the far side of the couch. “You’re right. Let’s watch another.” 

This next movie's decent; a flat racing plot with excessive sequels. He unleashes an exaggerated yawn, extending his triceps to land behind your head. You quirk a brow at him, and he plays innocent. “You look cold” he says. You don’t care as much as you pretend. His pads trace the shell of your burning ear down to the lobe, to fine hair at the end of your neck. His rough hand massages the back of your head, and you lull to his chest. Be it the champagne or his actions, it’s too hot for comfort. Clamping your thighs shut spurs the intensity. His other hand languidly tests the limits of your skin, gossamer touches from your knee to your thigh. It's asking, and when you don’t object, he invites the entire palm to your knee, rubbing delicately. He brings it to your upper thigh, and retreats to the outside, getting dangerously close to your rear. The worst part is it’s not that bad. It’s intimate. Warm. 

Loving. 

It takes you a minute to comprehend you’re tearing up, but Toji recognizes that hushed sniffle. Airy and choked, quiet as to not be a burden. He circles a hand around your waist and pulls you impossibly close. He tilts your chin to his gaze, soft and deceptively gentle when he asks. 

“What’s wrong pretty, hm?” You say nothing through the constrains in your throat, streaking the tears that fall faster than you can wipe them. This man alone can reduce you to mush with a wave of his hand. He bares your rawest state and sculpts you back together with such purity, such devotion, that you’d plead for him to sink his clay sodden fingers into your nothing, and make you everything. 

“Tell me, and I’ll fix it.” 

You say just above a whisper, “You’re selfish, you know that?”  

“Mhm, I know” he nods, grazing his thumb across your lip. 

“This isn’t healthy for us; we can’t heal like this.” He angles your head with his half lidded gaze, polishing your damp undereyes.  

“I don’t need healing. I need you.” 

You find passage in his hair, and surrender to temptation. 

You test with a smooch. Then another. Then a series of tender, sugary kisses are pushed upon his pliant lips, and he responds in kind. You curl your fingers through his tresses as you explore the contours of his lips for what feels like the first time. Toji isn’t known for patience, but the sensation of his mildly dry lips getting smoother from your supple kisses gives him the will to savor this moment. You push and pull from each other, indulging in the messy smacks and caresses. You stop amid shared breaths to skim and nudge his yearning lips, diving into more hungry kisses. Toji abruptly lifts you over him, and you deepen its bruising passion.  

You lick his bottom lip, and he groans, parting his mouth to allow your entry. You traverse the pink mass, interlacing in a wet feverish exchange. Your mind is numb, and the heartbeat in your core strikes stronger when your tongues intertwine. Toji hikes your dress up and slinks his massive hands over the plush fat of your rear. He earns a muffled moan from you as he kneads and gropes, and you feel his smirk against your lips. He grips your ass and starts to grind your hips on the bulge in his pants, a silent beg for any amount of friction. You wind with his movements, consuming him, and you hear a whimper get lost in the back of his throat.  

You drag your teeth along his neck. You lick and suck in a few spots and decide to draw harshly on a responsive patch of skin while circling the fat of your pussy over his sensitive cock, taut in his boxers. His breath hitches, and he slaps your ass. “Fuck, baby please.” It’s rare to witness him begging like this, and you’re drinking it in. You lick up his Adam’s apple and pepper his jaw with kisses. “You like it?” 

“Need more.” You bite his bottom lip for what seems like an exchange, but break away once he leans in. “Mm, be patient Toji.”  

Your hands traverse the rugged muscle under his tank top. He aids in taking it off, and you rake over his breathless torso. You kiss along his pecs and lick the groove of his abs, delighting in the parts you missed during your separation. Toji has a tinge of red soaking his chest and ears, shifting uncomfortably from his throbbing cock when you bat your eyes as you slope to the floor. You slip a finger under his waistband, playfully running over its span, and snapping it from a peak. He hisses. You palm his erection, and he grinds into it.  

“Wait” he husks. He reaches for a pillow and shuffles it under your knees. “Oh, thank you” you say, but it doesn’t look like he hears you in the chaos of tugging his sweatpants down to expose his boxers. The anticipation’s killing you, so you free his dick from its confinement. 

You can’t forget the mouthwatering size. His girth meets his length with equal satisfaction. The base is tan, fading to a rosy tip and a faint curve. You committed his veins to memory, small ones embossing the sides and a prominent one meandering to his tip. 

You maintain eye contact with him, hand steady on the base as you deliver taunting little licks to his frenulum. You precisely ring around his urethra and trace the veins, pulsating from the flick of your wrist. Toji hisses shaky curses and bucks, beefy thighs stiffening when you roll a flat strip to his leaking head and pump the base of his cock. He didn’t want to push you, but his whole body twitched in desire. “Your mouth” he groans. You react a coy ‘huh?’, tapping the head on your tongue and slathering it in saliva with cutesy doe eyes. He’s homed in on the strings of saliva connecting him to your tongue. 

An undertone of desperation in his gravelly voice, “Whole thing. In your mouth,” he expends another shaky breath, “please.” 

He bites his lip and stifles a moan, watching you engulf the cockhead in your mouth. You hollow out your cheeks while the underside of your tongue holds firm, and cautiously accommodate his size. It’s too big for comfort and it stretches the capacity of your plump spit-covered lips, but you work through the daunting pressure poking your reflex. You gradually relax, periodically gagging from an unprepared increase, and he twitches at your tightening throat. Your nose finally touches the hilt, flooded in his musk, and you start to suck. You bob leisurely, adjusting to the sense, and he subtly squirms in your touch.  

Toji crinkles his brows when you release a pleasant pop on his tip, purely to observe his eyes rolling back when you wreck him in a noisy suction. Noise was no longer a factor—sounds of spit and dry retching overpowered the volume of the movie regardless. He holds your hair away from you to get a better view of your face, smothered with tears and mascara, drool ceaseless down your chin. “F-fuck, you’re so good, so, so good to me” he groans. 

Your tongue swirls around him as you’re bobbing, and you accompany it with a tender massage to his balls. You cup and fondle them, using the lubrication from your spit to glide your fingers across. He sighs and grabs a handful of your hair. “Need to come. Keep that pretty throat open for me, yeah?” 

He rapidly shoves you down to the hilt, and you wince before he continues at a relentless pace. You anchor his thigh for stability, and he throws his head back, fucking your throat raw. There's a sheen of sweat where his bangs stick to his forehead, and he emits an endless measure of moans the closer he gets. Rambling about nonsense, yes’s and curses as he stiffens. He treats your mouth like a flesh light, evident by the throat bulge disappearing and reappearing. You happily accept the searing jaw, swaying your ass from thrumming in your saturated panties damp to your inner thighs.  

You can tell he’s about to climax because he goes completely quiet minus the panting, open mouthed with his head back. You resume massaging his balls, and he shoves you to the base, “C-coming” he moans. You grab onto him, and a squeak dies in your throat when he paints it white. He shakes, groans for each spurt coating your mouth, pumping the last of his semen as you swallow. 

Toji shudders when he pulls out, and his panting returns to a soft huff. You expected him to be spent, or at least sit in the aftershocks for a while until he calmed down. But he tightens the grip on your hair and forces you to look up. “Show me” he husks. You stick your tongue out, proof you swallowed every bit. “Now c’mere”, he guides you into a filthy French kiss, devouring you with much more dominance than before. It’s as though your nearness restored him. You can hardly stand your feeble knees and sopping core, but Toji takes care of it for you. With unnatural vigor, he lifts you over his shoulder, and marches up the stairs. “Ah, Toji, maybe you should take a sec-” 

He swats your butt harsh, and you yelp from the sting. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do. You’ve been so mouthy, a damn tease, too. You’re gonna regret it.” 

You’re ferried into the rather plain bedroom lined with dim hues, and a wide ceiling length mirror opposite the bed. He tosses you on the dark gray bedding and climbs over you. Your heart’s racing with thrill. Toji yanks the dress over your head, uncovering the sheer white lacey bra, similar to your underwear.  

He stares like you’re a piece of meat, feasting on your flawlessness not yet smothered in hickeys and bruises, your nipples at attention under the fabric. “It’s all for me, huh?” he whispers, lust rolling off his tongue. You nod, because it’s always been for him, whether he was here or not. He buries himself in your cleavage and hums in satisfaction. His touch sends goosebumps to your skin and keeps your back arched when he drags a pad along your spine. Then your bra unclasps, and he removes it carefully, as if he didn’t want to spoil the surprise by unwrapping his gift too early. He gawks at them for an embarrassingly long pause, enough to make your cheeks hot, and you chide, “Stop staring.” 

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous.” Toji submerges the bud, whirling around it while he roughly squeezes both breasts. He molds the dough of your breasts with strong palms, nips and tugs your nipple before soothing it with fierce tongue kisses. Consistent teeth grazing hikes your sensitivity before he trades it for sucking. When he switches to the other, he pinches the maltreated peak, eliciting a whimper. You merely bind your thighs and embrace the disarray being caused on your spit-soaked nipples. The cold air your abused tits receive as he withdrawals from suckling is nullified by the hickeys he leaves. You quiver from constellations of splotchy purplish red, delicious pain tingling throughout your torso. “Not so much, I have to go back to work soon” you moan, not very convincing.  

“Even better; everyone’ll know who fucks you” Toji winks, and your heart skips. He dumps a nice vibrant bruise on your sternum, and advances to the dainty hem. He parts your thighs with ease, throwing them on his shoulder. Then he develops a haughty smirk.  

You’re monitoring his face, until he presses a pad against your aching clit, and the subsequent juices overflowing from a huge wet patch. He plays with the spiderweb of slick between his digits, “Mm. Y’still my girl.” You blush as he sucks on them and licks his lips afterwards. Hooking under the panties, he pulls them taut, projecting the swell of your pudgy vulva in tightening lace. It sinks past your outer lips and cages your clit—you want to writhe from friction, but it makes it worse. He ghosts against you and kisses the print, and you want to scream. “Tell me what you want, or I won’t do it.” 

“P-please...” you whine. You lock eyes, and you can hardly manage a word in the foreground of his intensity. How can he expect you to form coherent sentences when he sees through you like this? He gives a disappointed tut and puppeteers the strings, shifting them back and forth upon your neglected vulva. You cry out, and he cinches it together, isolating the part that pulses incessantly. He has an evil grin on his face, the bastard. “Details, baby.” 

“Toji...please t-touch me alre-eady so I can come, m’sorry I won’t tease you again!” you promise, willing to do whatever it takes to reduce your sentence. 

“And what else?” 

“Your mouth on m-my pussy...please lick it.” You’re humiliated at the request that tumbles from your bottommost desires, but he’s satisfied. He’s never been one to shy away from dirty talk. 

“Good girl.” Toji slithers your panties off, and you sigh from a loss of pressure just as his bangs tickle your pubic area. He interlocks your hands, a breath from eating you. 

“You don’t look at me, I’ll stop. Think you can do that f’me?”  

“Mhm!”  

He hums in agreement and submerses into you. Toji’s a messy eater, especially when he’s desperate. He ovals the outer lips and precisely stirs your clit, and your stomach turns in knots from simple motions. He frames it and carefully winds around his capable tongue, really focusing on the spots that make your back curve; really focusing on your entry, as he teasingly digs in.  

Toji cajoles a groan from his nose caressing your bud, then laps a level tongue over your wetness, truly tasting you. It isn’t long before his teasing farce began to crumble, and he obliged his ravenous appetite. He eats you starving, insatiable as he absorbs your twitching cunt and perfumed essence spilling down his chin. You clasp your hands, desire building in a trembling quake, but he doesn’t falter. He slurps your inner lips, and finally delivers proper care to your neglected clit. He hums a low vibration when he sucks, his pursed lips moving from a steady tongue to full on slobbering like some savage animal.  

You appreciate the support his steady hands give your shaky ones. “Toji, hahhh coming” you whine, a familiar sensation flipping in your core. He lets his words fan onto you, “You know better” he husks. Your hips are bucking frantically, and so you whine, “Please, can I come sir, please please please please!”  

“Hmm, I don’t know, you were ready to disobey me just now.” He says that, however the look in his eye is unrelated; it craves you, the want to make you squeal repeatedly until you’re on the verge of collapse. “’M can’t take it anymore, please let me come!” You urge your hips to his mouth, and meld into his warmth. 

“Come on my face, pretty girl” he groans, just as hankering as you. He laps at your clit, and you sooner fall apart underneath him. Your whimpered plea forms an innocent sob as you spasm from overstimulation. Toji just doesn’t stop. His head careens against you, tasting everything your body has to offer. You’re suddenly regretting how badly you wanted to come. 

“Toji- I-it’s too much” you protest, but it receives no response. Your release dribbles down his chin and he persists, ultimately unbinding when you lose a hold on his hands from the tremors. He diverges your lips and admires the way your mess clenches around air. 

“Heh, you’re shaking. Cute.” He rubs the back of your legs, reassuring you in spite of his previous cruelty. You make a sad attempt at wiggling away, but he grabs you firm. 

No running. Be good and hold your legs back.” He folds your legs to your shoulders, and you mewl, reluctantly wrapping your hands around them. ‘No’ isn’t a valid response at present.  

Toji’s thumbs spread your wrinkling opening, and you feel a draft on its expanse before he spits directly into your hole. You jerk, startled, and he shushes you. He slathers his thick digits in your glistening strip, and smoothly sinks one inside. “Pussy so slippery for me. Miss this...miss you” he sighs, starting to pump. He prepares you for the main course, scrapes your walls and curls his finger to hit a spot you can’t reach. The nasty squelching sounds you echo from a mere finger casts heat on your cheeks, and he seems to enjoy your responsiveness as he adds another finger to the commotion. He twines a ‘come hither’ motion that makes your back arch from every delightful swipe against your velvety walls. Then his pink muscle undulates along your swollen bud, and you dissolve to a puddle. Your hips stutter, and surge after surge of torturous pleasure strikes you with no end in sight. 

“Toji, f-fuck wait- hng s’feels too good” you whimper, and he gruffs a chuckle. He expands his fingers with precision, then chooses to slide a thumb in your butthole. The combination of both hands intruding your being, coiling into your soul jams your head with intoxicating dizziness and fictitious futures. Static pools in your stomach and circulates like the goading flickers of a raging inferno. He contacts your g-spot, and you moan, “Ah- can I, I’m close” 

“I know, I know. Let go for me,” he says, or at least that’s what it sounds like when he’s face-deep. Your eyes are screwed shut, white noise before you crash and shatter around his fingers. Fortunately, you’re deaf to your own lewd wailing, clutching for dear life through contractions. It gushes past his wrist. Tears reside in your lashes, croaked sob from the slap he gives your puffy pussy. “That’s it, baby, there we go.” 

Toji shows mercy and slips out. You’re still registering sultry bliss, untangling your limbs to lay slack. Empathy isn’t forever, though, because he forces your butt rearwards as he hops off the bed. Precum seeps from his tip, sheeting his shaft and heavy brimming sack. He propels your thighs to your chest, and your expression switches to fear for a second at the angry red tip sitting at your entrance. It's as if it grew since the blowjob, and you’re sure you’ll die if he stuffs that monster inside you.  

He slides up and down the entrance, seizing the sore bud, “Mmm, pretty thing making a mess all over my cock.”  

“Just go slow, okay?” you meek. 

“Of course, ‘m not tryna kill you.” Toji doesn’t disrupt the yearning gaze between you, giving your entry several threatening caresses. He groans from the sensation of your puffy lips snuggling his length. Then he plunges the bulbous tip, encased in your passion. He’s unhurried for the most part, besides the instants he stops himself from ramming into you, cock begging to feel the fervor. He’s plugging you to capacity, and you’re only halfway in. Soreness whirrs in your walls being outstretched beyond belief, yet you’re milking what remains, dragging the rest of him in. His breath hitches, a spiderweb of veins pulses in your tight embrace and he rocks his hips further. “Look at the way you’re gripping me. Fuck” he shudders. His tip presses on your cervix, and you feel the weight of his balls on your rear. 

Toji drives into you nice and slow. In this position you feel each vast stroke massaging your tumid core, squelching amidst your languid bodies. There’s almost a gloss film on his eyes as he indulges in the sweet addiction swamping his thoughts with unfiltered lust. “When you left it hurt real bad, y’know? I even cried.” You’re a bit stunned at his spur of honesty, but it’s short-lived as his thrusts get wilder and brutal. Your mouth hangs open, drool shameless out your mouth as he kisses your cervix without trying. You throb frenetically, chest heaving from the way his sack smacks against your ass and the creamy translucent ring forming at the base of his cock. His swinging strokes graze your g-spot and you sob, but he doesn’t check for your mitigation, encompassing your numb clit in the heat of his mean smacks.  

“Heh, dunno if you remember, but you left a pair of panties when you moved”, Toji regresses to the tip and bottoms out repeatedly, “I’ve jerked off in them so many times, imagining you backing up this juicy pussy on my dick.” You’re hysterical, flushed from head to toe and struggling to take breaths. Toji has you locked slamming into your cervix. It coaxes a mix of pleasure and pain burning through you, and your toes curl. “You love me?” he asks. It’s unfair to ask you now, scatter-brained and drooling like a stupefied slut. But you nod, and he plasters a cocky grin. “Good. ‘S long as I have that, I’m okay.”  

The unexpected flood of your orgasm quakes you, unable to warn Toji, or even ask for permission. How disappointed he’d be in you, as your juices sluice and soak, fluttering where you come undone. It’s a trail of fire, and it hurts to come. His hips sputter and he mutters a string of curses, flicking your nub faster to heighten the intensity of the earlier mess. You paw at his chest, back arched and fresh tears clustering in the haze. “Please, please!” you babble to an unresponsive Toji, stuck in a feral trance.  

Toji pulls out, palpitating at the precipice of his own climax. You take this opportunity to flip on your stomach and creep to a farther part of the bed. He’s in no rush. You can’t go far like that, a net of arousal at the apex of your thighs. He climbs onto the bed and grapples your hips, thighs capturing yours. He curves your back and slips into your gummy walls anew. You grip him like a vice notwithstanding the complaints. You hate to say it, but Toji’s length bullying its way to your cervix is a poison you’d drink habitually. He snares your hair and holds the underside of your chin. “Hah- c’mon baby, you can take a little more”, he groans at a savage pace, “be a good girl.” Your ass ripples against the brawny man, hoarse voice in your ear, scrotum pummeling the overworked bundle of nerves. Your knuckles turn white on the sheets. All you should do is let him use you, that’s all you need to do, right?   

Toji pans your head to the mirror, “Look how good you’re taking me, angel. You’re doing well.” His honeyed praises make you throb, attended by the bestial snap of his hips. “See that?”, he references your release slugging both legs, air heavy with sweat, “you’re such a f-fucking slut, what man could satisfy you besides me?” You sniffle and muster a pathetic babble, and he laughs. “You’re my perfect slut, though, fuck- ‘nd I’m not gonna make the same mistakes again.” There’s a tinge of regret swimming in the sea that is Toji’s confidence, and you feel it. It’s a subtle confession; please don’t go. 

Then he stops. Toji lets go, and you’re impulsively manhandled in front of him while he’s behind you. He lays back, and in doing so, ferries your knees to the sides of your face and hooks his hands to the rear of your head. You’re unveiled in the reflection of the mirror, a panel that bounces back the thin sheen of sweat on your bodies, your disheveled hair and makeup, wrinkled sheets, and the sticky lacings attaching you to Toji. You want to shy from the humiliating sight. “Don’t hide your face” he coos. You glimpse a portion of his face in the mirror, a glint in his eye, “I like this view more.”  

He bends his knees and pounds your chubby cunt with reckless abandon. He’s fucking your cervix, heedless grunts and panting groans as you swallow him up. Toji sputters, throbbing along your abused body and reverberating vicious staggering plap’s that could be heard on the lowest floor. You can’t breathe, let alone think, and the asphyxiation goes straight to your pussy. “O-oh fuck, heh, feel s’good. Gonna fill you up, yeah? Shit- have a mini me crawling around. Y-you'd like that, wouldn’t you, doll? Wanna carry my baby?” The headboard thuds against the wall, and in your fog, you call out for him, chanting his name like a mantra. The emotion is overwhelming, you claw at his bicep as shockwaves burst and fizzle out on your skin. “You’re dripping down my balls, sweetie, you close again?” Tougher, nastier strikes allure your orgasm, and you bleat a scream as a stream of liquid surges from you that drenches the sheets and Toji’s shaft. It’s a blinding white light, and you go limp through the violent spasms.  

“Ohhh shit, that’s it baby, take everything I give you” he rasps. Toji shoulders your dead weight with ease, going silent, then plummeting you to the hilt. His balls tighten, and he manages some slushy pumps before he comes. He spurts thick, hot globs that paint and crowd your walls with greed. You milk him dry as he bucks. It overflows to trickling down his length, and his muscles quiver as he comes down from his high. His staggering pants reduce to hitching, and he relaxes your exhausted limbs. 

Toji drives out and turns you around. You’re edging unconsciousness, sporadic jolts and innocent sobs carrying in your scratched throat. “I know. Breathe, baby.” He brings you flush with his chest, and you absorb his gentle puffs, the methodical beat of his heart. “You okay?” You’re unresponsive, gathering yourself in an incomplete collage of thoughts. You want to talk but it dissipates on your tongue. He rubs your back and kisses your forehead.  

Then it’s muted; solely the dwindling rate at which your heart races, and the tender smooches Toji dots on your face as you cuddle. When you open your eyes, the sheets are changed, and you’re cleaned. Clearly some time has passed. You sit, and Toji comes out the bathroom, running water in the background. “How ya feelin’?” 

You wince at the blunt thrum in your vulva, “Okay. How long was I out?” 

“Like half an hour. Up for a bath?” You don’t have the energy to move your body. Toji scoops you bridal style and leads you to the bathroom. You found it amusing how considerate he was after wrecking your brain. 

Toji spoons a generous quantity of Epson salt into the corner jet tub. He helps you in and joins once you’re stable. It’s a lavish proportion, but you decide to be next to him. Your head situates on your forearms over the tub rim while Toji sloshes water onto your back. The steam and serene jets below ship you to a luxury vacation on a tropical island, its quality comparable to spas with extensive dollar signs. You study each other. 

“I’ll let you get whatever you need from your place.” You knit your brows, “For what?” 

“You live with me.” You simper at his audacity.  

“So, you’re the decision maker now?” 

“For this, yes. Can’t risk you runnin’ off again.” 

“It’s your fault I left.” He pauses, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

A piece of you becomes whole at his acknowledgement. There are no petty jabs to be had where lingering truths wade in the mist. “Never thought I’d hear an apology from you.”  

“It’s overdue. I was a dick, and I should’ve never treated you like that. Was tryna sort out my shit, but I didn’t have to take it out on ya.” 

The corner of your mouth quirks up. “Sorry...but not sorry enough to let me go?” 

 “No. You need nobody but me.” 

You chortle, and he cracks a smirk. “Arrogant asshole.”   

“I love you, too.” 

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji fushigro x reader #jjk

[thereadinggremlin]

Guarded Hearts

Alright friends, this is my first fic and it is an Azriel x Reader, this is my first one and maybe there will be a second part but that’s up to you guys.

POV: you find out Azriel’s you mate but you start getting the could shoulder from him after he returns from a mission.

A/N: Like I said part one of probably 2, y’all let me know.

You couldn’t take it anymore, you just needed to get away. You found out that Azriel was your mate about 2 months ago, it didn’t shock you at all because you’ve loved this man your whole life. What you couldn’t stand was how much he had been ignoring you and giving you the cold shoulder.

You were in an official meeting with the inner circle when the bond snapped for you. Rhys had been talking about the uprising in some of the camps and how they would need to go and sort it out, they as in Cassian and Azriel. When Rhys had said one of the uprising camps was the one you grew up in both you and Azriel tensed although you didn’t note his reaction at first because in the tense emotions of thinking of back home, that’s when the bond snapped for you.

You thought maybe Azriel felt it too but you couldn’t be sure. You thought the bond would be this warm feeling in your chest but it just felt cold and distant. You would have to check with Rhys to see if that’s how he felt after he found out Fayre was his mate.

After the meeting Cassian and Azriel left immediately for their respective camps, Azriel going to the one you grew up in where your father and mother still lived. Luckily your mom was friends with Rhys mother from a young age so you were able to keep your wings and not get clipped but that didn’t save you from the full extent of your fathers wrath. That was a reason you were so scared for Azriel to go, he knew the whole history of how your father had treated you, the beatings and public humiliation being the smaller transgressions. Azriel had walked out of Rhys’ office so quickly after they were dismissed that you weren’t able to get a word in, you said your goodbyes and be safe to Cassian and when you went to find Azriel you found Mor instead.

“He already left lovey.” Mor said with a sad smile. You knew that her using that pet name for you wasn’t a good sign and that she could probably tell what was going through your mind. You ran away before she could get a word in otherwise because the tears would fall.

Everyone left you alone for the month Azriel was gone sensing that there was something going on and that if you wanted to talk about you would find them. Fayre tried talking to you but you shut her out immediately.

When Azriel and Cassian got back you were in the dinning room enjoying some breakfast, as they passed by you Azriel didn’t even look at you and Cassian gave you a weak smile. You tried to feel down the bond but there was absolutely nothing, just cold and dark, it made your heart break.

Over the next few weeks you were thinking that giving Azriel space would be the answer and that he’d be coming to join you in either training or in the library for a night cap like he used to do so often before the bond snapped for you. There was nothing, you never ran into him even though you could hear his foot steps throughout the house as if the house wanted you to know where he was. There were also times when you’d see some of his shadows lurking about, some would come right up to you as if you were their master and swirl under your hair and around your neck. Maybe they were here on his behalf and maybe they’d report back to him, you didn’t know and tried not to care.

Once a month hit from his return of your home camp you needed to get out, get away, it was all too much. You found yourself outside of Rhys’s office at the river house once your mind was made up.

“Are you sure you want to go away for that long?” He had asked you.

“I want the same thing that was given to Fayre, time up in the cabin alone and sheilded so that no one knows I’m there. I need a break” Your eyes had a pleading look in them with a tinge of heartbreak too.

“When do you want to leave” Rhys said sighing in disbelief. The house of Wind has been your home for many years, and he didn’t think that any of the jobs he’s given you were so strenuous that you needed to be away from your family.

“I’m ready to go now, I packed my bags before I came to see you. And I want Mor to take me, if you take me there will be too many questions.”

Surprised at you readiness to leave he agreed and got in touch with Mor, she appeared almost instantaneously making you think she was just outside listening in. “Ready to go lovey?” She had asked, you nodded your head too afraid of speaking just in case your voice broke. “Then off we go.”

You arrived at the cabin up in the wilderness within a moment and when you walked in and saw all the artwork, you wanted to cry. Having your family all around you while being so far away brought you some comfort but not much. You looked to where the eyes were and found Azriel’s right away.

“Do you need anything, want me to stay for a bit?” Mor asked breaking you out of your trance.

“No I think I’m good, just need to be away from everything, everyone.” You said trying to add a laugh in at the end but the sound was strained and laced with pain.

“Who’s ass do I have to beat, because I don’t care who it is, I’ll beat them up for you. Just give me a name.” Mor tried to get you to laugh but a look in your eyes showed that it was a love problem and although she didn’t know about the bond you have to Azriel, she does know that you’ve had a crush on him for centuries. “Maybe, he’ll realize what was missing since it’s not in front of him anymore.” She said with a weak smile.

You returned the smile and with sad eyes responded “Yeah, maybe.” And without saying goodbye she left knowing that if you spoke anymore that might be your downfall and it would all come out.

Two weeks you had been up at the cabin in pure silence and peace. You brought some books with you in order to pass the time, not like you’d get bored but you were lonely. Rhys and more stayed true to their word so far and haven’t tried to visit or try and get through your mental shield, you also went as far to build a wall up to the bond, feeling nothing was better than feeling the coldness that it brought with it.

It was when you were picking out your next book that you saw it from the corner of your eye, a shadow, and the second it realized you had noticed it, it vanished. Your heart rate picked up because now you didn’t know what was going to happen but your rapid thoughts caused you to drop your shields and you felt worried beyond any understanding and then Rhys speaking into your mind “I’m so sorry”

#booklover #acotar #romance #all the tropes #azriel #azriel x reader #first post #please help #feedback please

[gurugirl]

coming soon to tumblr | handyman!harry

821 word teaser - 10k+ one shot already posted on Patreon.

One shot summary: When you inherit your aunt's estate after she passes away, you hire Harry to fix up the old house but that's not all he winds up being good for. Based on this request.

. . .

Everything flowed so nicely with Harry. He was easy to talk to and you trusted that he knew what he was doing. And it didn’t hurt that his voice was soothing and deep and slow. You could listen to him talk about solid hardwood versus engineered hardwood all day long if he let you.

“Well, I’ll be heading out now I guess. Be back first thing in the morning and start on this porch.”

You walked him to his big truck and shook his hand again, thanking him for taking the job and feeling a bit overwhelmed and emotional at everything.

Overwhelmed because Harry was so genuinely kind and you knew immediately you could trust him completely. Which just added to his charm and sex appeal. You really tried to push down the fact that he was so stunningly attractive because that wasn’t going to do you any good. And even though Mr. George told you he was single, you couldn’t imagine that was true. Someone as yummy-looking and kind-hearted as Harry? There was no way he wasn’t at least seeing someone.

But you were also emotional because you were finally going to get to see your aunt Gayla’s house restored to its original glory. It was going to be a real labor of love but it felt so good to be doing it. You had never felt so sure you were on the right path in life until that day. Until Harry arrived with his big truck and assured you that you’d get everything you wanted and that it would end up being even better than before.

And for the first time since you moved into that old house, you sat down and began to write. You’d gotten nearly ten thousand words written and were awake well into the wee hours of the morning typing away with the sudden inspiration you’d gotten. You fell asleep with your laptop next to you when you couldn’t hold your eyes open any longer.

You were woken to the sound of pounding and clanking and creaking which had you startled as you sat up in your bed and looked around your bedroom. The sun filled the space with light and you picked up your cellphone to note the time and saw a missed call from Harry.

Wrapping your robe around yourself you ran down the stairs all frazzled and rushed and burst onto the front porch, tripping over a stack of fresh boards and landing on your knees and palms like an idiot.

“Hey… hey…” you heard Harry’s deep voice from behind you as he slid his hands under your arms to help you up, “You okay?”

“Oh my god…” you croaked out the first words of the day from your throat, “I just woke up and realized you were here and… Sorry!”

He turned you to face him and looked down over your knees and lifted your palms upward to inspect, “Let’s get you cleaned up. Took quite the spill there. Sorry, I shouldn’t have stacked those boards right there.”

You felt your heart calm as he led you into your kitchen. He was so gentle with you, which for some reason you hadn’t expected. You knew he was kind but this seemed very much outside of the scope of his job description, “No, it’s fine! It’s me. I’d probably trip over the boards no matter where you had them stacked. I’m a bit of a nervous nelly. And when I woke up I just… I was startled. Fell asleep late and didn’t set an alarm…”

Harry grinned at you as you ran your faucet and put your hands under it, “It’s fine. No need to rush or get all riled up. I got here a bit early and when you didn’t answer I just figured I’d start on the porch. Think I’ll replace your doorbell as well. It’s not working either.”

You dried your hands and smiled at Harry, “I’ll get you a key before you leave today. In case I’m not here or I’m sleeping again. Sorry… I just had this burst of inspiration last night and typed until I passed out. It’s…”

“You’re fine,” you watched his eyes drop down to your torso and then bounce back up quickly to your face.

When you looked down at yourself you realized your robe was twisted and while all your bits were covered, they were barely covered.

“Jesus fucking Christ… I’m sorry, Harry. I’m a mess…” you pulled the material into place and adjusted the robe.

Harry put his hands at the tops of your arms, “Hey… you’re fine. Take a breath. It’s a beautiful morning and the birds are singing, and just look at this view…” he motioned toward your window where you could see trees and lush green grass stretch along the front of the house, “Now… Do you have some alcohol to clean up the cuts on your knees?”

. . .

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#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #firstpost #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry edward styles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harrystyles #harry styles concept #harry x reader #harry x yn #harry #harry styles writing

[decaying-enigma]

[Space Core AU]

Danny could see it all.

Where the darkness meets the dance of light, a swirling canvas of stardust and celestial wonders—a symphony of colors, shapes, and energies unfurling across the infinite reaches of space.

Their radiant glow casting an aura that just beckoned him to join.

Cosmic tendrils weaved a labyrinth of star clusters, and stellar nurseries gave birth to new stars.

Nebulae shimmered with ethereal beauty, their wispy tendrils reaching out across the void like ghostly fingers.

Supernovae unleashed titanic explosions, scattering the remnants of dying stars across the cosmos in a dazzling fireworks display of light and energy.

Danny could almost feel it wash over his skin.

Black holes lurked in the depths of space, their gravitational pull so intense that not even light could escape their grasp.

Dark matter, the invisible scaffolding of the universe, weaves its enigmatic web throughout the galaxy.

He could hear the countless echoes, all worming their way into his being and, for a moment, pulling him closer and closer to...

""Danny!""

He fell back into his seat instantly, two arms holding him down, as Earth's gravity once again took hold of him.

Blinking rapidly, Danny shook his head, visions of stars and nebulae sliding away.

Yet not completely leaving his mind.

It took him a moment to remember where he was as he turned to Tucker and Sam.

They sat on either side of him, both having a firm grip on him with deeply concerned expressions on their faces.

They were all outside, at a table nestled in the corner of the (thankfully empty) park, and had been in the middle of eating lunch from a new cafe that Sam had wanted to try.

Or, at least, that had been the plan before he decided that gravity was just a suggestion.

"You okay, dude?" Tucker asked, a hand still holding onto him.

"I'm fine," Danny replied immediately.

But judging by the identical unimpressed looks on Sam and Tucker's faces, neither believe him in the slightest.

And rightfully so.

Though they did let go of him, trusting he wasn't about to start floating away again, they were ready to react if it happened again.

Danny sighed.

"I just got distracted for a second."

"You were floating away." Sam pointed it out, making little wiggly movements with her fingers. "Plus, your eyes were doing that weird galaxy thing again.

"That was just some dust," he lied half-halfheartedly.

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow, not buying that for a moment. "Yeah right. If we hadn't pulled you back down, you would probably already be out of the atmosphere by now."

"I would've noticed," Danny murmured, his eyes shifting to the side. "...eventually."

Sam huffed in frustration. "So not the point I was trying to make."

"They are super weird, though," Tucker agreed, then took a bite of his giant BLT sandwich. "But still cool, in the way they turn into terrifying black-holes that they look like the endless and cruel vacuum of space."

Danny stared at Tucker flatly.

"That makes me feel so much better."

"No problem!"

There was a brief silence, only for Tucker to put his sandwich back down, showing just how serious he was, and ask.

"But seriously, dude, are you alright?"

Danny looked down at the table, wanting to ignore his friends admittedly reasonable concerns, and absently twirled the straw of his ice tea.

But, eventually, he gave in.

"I already stopped by the Far Frozen to talk with Frostbite," he finally admitted. "Even ran into Clockwork, who was feeling strangely non-cryptic, and asked him about what was going on."

"So, what'd you find out?" Sam questioned, leaning forward, eager to hear what he had to say.

Danny snorted, an impish grin growing on his face. "Apparently, I don't actually have an ice core."

They both blinked in surprise.

The fact that Danny's core, practically the ghostly equivalent of a soul and a fundamental part of their being, wasn't ice this whole time and was actually something different was... a pretty big deal.

Sam asked, both curious and concerned, "So, what core do you have?"

"Frostbite called it a space core, or, as Clockwork referred to it, a piece of the Void." Danny rolled his eyes. "I'm like, 70% sure, he only called it that to be extra dramatic."

"So the ice powers were just...what? The first side effect before the weird eyes and the 'spacing' out?" Tucker joked with a grin.

Danny chuckled at the pun, while Sam groaned.

"Basically."

"Do you know what powers you are supposed to expect?" Sam asked, hoping they would catch a break this time.

"Not a clue," Danny said, shooting that hope down immediately.

Tucker raised an eyebrow. "Isn't there someone in the Ghost Zone you could ask?"

"It's, like, super rare; I mean, the only other ghost I know with the same core is Nocturn," he explained with an annoyed huff.

They both winced.

Despite not currently being antagonistic with the Ghost of Dreams, Danny and Nocturn's relationship wasn't anywhere close to friendly, even by ghostly standards.

And considering most ghosts could beat each other up, possibly even dismember one another, and still be willing to hang out later, that's saying something.

Danny sighed. "Yeah, I basically had the same reaction."

"Are you sure there's no one else?" Sam pushed, looking for a solution.

"Ghost Zone's a big place and leads to a lot of others, so probably." He shrugged. "But, even if Nocturn or someone else was willing to give me advice, it wouldn't help very much."

Seeing the confusion on their faces, he continued to explain.

"Frostbite gave me a whole lecture about it, but it basically boils down to the fact that, unlike most core elements, space cores express themselves so differently that there's no real set of powers that they share."

Sam slowly nodded, understanding showing on her face.

"So, while one ghost with a space core might be able to make black-holes, another might control gravity or even create stars," she continued, a hint of wonder in her voice.

Danny nodded his head in agreement.

"Hey, for all we know, you might get the power to twinkle really, really brightly instead." Tucker snickered loudly, with Sam quickly following.

Danny dropped his head onto the table, not sharing his friend's amusement in the slightest.

The snickers soon died off, as Danny continued to mope.

"It's probably not that bad." Tucker pointed this out. "You already learned to control the ice part of your powers; you'll figure this part out eventually."

"And we'll be right there when you do," Sam added, fully believing they would find the answer eventually.

"Hopefully not too close. Frostbite mentioned a few...unexpected stabbings the first time around," Tucker muttered under his breath, wincing as Sam punched him in the shoulder.

Danny rolled his eyes.

He wished that he shared his friends confidence in his abilities, but he was nevertheless grateful for the support his two best friends were giving him.

Thankfully, the conversation soon changed subjects from his potential new powers, moving on to talk about a homework assignment for school as they finished their lunch.

Danny made sure to pay attention this time, staying focused on the here and now.

Yet, even as he grinned from the sarcastic joke Sam had made, he could still feel the pull in the background.

He could hear the symphony of celestial bodies, the stars, the nebulae, and the infinite reaches of space in the back of his mind, all calling out to him.

Just waiting for the day that he would give in to the urge, and in the moment of weakness, join them forever and always until the end of time.

#dp #danny phantom #dp prompt #crossover #dpxdc #Space core #dp au #danny feton #tucker foley #sam mason

[avocado-writing]

I love your work and saw that your request for baldur's gate 3 was open and was wondering if you can do Astarion x abused? Reader

Basically the reader's father was a narcissist and they or she whichever you prefer. Even though they ran away years ago old habits die hard. They feel the need to take care of everyone else cause that's how they survived for so long and put on a front of being the strong leader they "need". Then maybe they have some sort of nightmare either being dragged back or something feeling the trapped feeling they felt for so long. Maybe Astarion hears them whimpering or something after a hunt and curiosity gets the best of him and ends up comforting them. 

notes: didnt want to get too into what abuse the reader had suffered, so I kept it reasonably vague. hurt/comfort

rating: M (due to themes)

pairing: astarion x reader

Astarion hears the sobbing from the moment he steps foot into camp.

He has exceptional hearing anyway and having just fed his senses are sharpened to a knife-point - he zeroes in on the sound with bat-like perception. Ears twitching as he goes, he tip-toe follows the noise to… 

…your tent.

That is a surprise. He’s not sure that he’s ever been present to you being anything other than… well, joyful. Constantly smiling. Constantly caring. Constantly laughing and reaching out a hand in friendship, the very epitome of what a good leader ought to be. Even in battle you don’t let awful odds get to you, always crying out reassurance from behind your shield as you fend off bloodied spears and vicious claws.

Maybe it is ego that makes Astarion go to your little refuge. He wants to see you shatter, just a bit. Just so he can reassure himself that you aren’t as infallible as you seem; that you are kith like the rest of them, able to err and break.

Or maybe it’s not because of any of that. It is because, despite it all, he has genuinely come to care for you.

Either way when he pulls open the fabric door his heart twinges uncomfortably in his chest.

You sit up in your bedroll, face buried in your hands, ugly tears boiling out from under your palms and soaking the sleeves of your sleep clothes. Your whole body heaves from both the raw emotion and the effort of trying to keep it under control. He’s never seen you so open. 

You look up when you hear the rustle of his arrival. He freezes as the two of you lock eyes. 

“Shit,” is all he can muster, and is it relief he feels when despite everything, you laugh?

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you ask, grabbing a handful of blanket and roughly drying your face with it. An attempt to hide the shame of crumbling.

“No, I was still up - out hunting,” he says, and you nod in acceptance. The two of you remain there for a moment, staring. Astarion is stuck on a threshold, both literally between outside and in, but also one of the soul. He wants to reach out. He wants to withdraw. He doesn’t know what he wants.

Eventually, your soft eyes win him over. He walks in and lets the tent fall closed, sitting down across from you on your bedroll. He feels your feet wiggle aside to make space for him and is struck by the intimacy of what he is doing.

This is unlike him. Stupid, stupid. Don’t reveal too much, don’t leave yourself open to vulnerability. He tries to affect a posture of ease, leaning back on his hands.

“Nightmare?” he asks. You nod again, sighing.

“Sorry, I must look dreadfully silly. I was just thinking about… someone I used to know.”

Astarion winces. Yes. He’s been there, hasn’t he - devoured by the panic of your past catching up with you. 

“You don’t look silly at all. A bit blotchy, perhaps, but not all of us can look beautiful when we cry.”

He flips his hair and that makes you laugh again. The atmosphere in the tent gets a little lighter. He watches the way your hands desperately look for something to occupy them, how they start picking at the loose stitches in any fabric you can find.

“This man. He used to, erm… hurt me. Quite badly, actually.” He hates the way your usually vibrant eyes have dulled. “And I managed to get away - ran away, really - but sometimes… you know. Something reminds me of him and I get dragged down again.”

Damn it all, Astarion finds himself reaching out and covering your hands with one of his. You stop your slow dismantling of your blanket thread-by-thread.

“I understand,” is what he’s able to force out of his suddenly tight throat. He’s mentioned Cazador before, trying to make a joke out of it, pretending it doesn’t bother him now that it’s all in the past - but it does bother him. Scares the life out of him, really, or this facsimile of a life he’s been able to build for himself now he’s free. 

Your fingers slide between his and hold him very tightly. 

The two of you sit in silence.

And then he decides to move properly, shuffling ungraciously so that he can be by your side rather than across from you, his arms wrapping around your body and bringing you close.

Your shoulders hitch a little. Fresh tears warm his shirt, patched dozens of times over because of a man who wouldn’t let him buy anything nice and new.

“I’m fucking tired of being strong. It feels like it’s too much sometimes,” you confess, voice barely louder than a whisper. He tucks his head over yours, your scalp beneath his chin, as if he can shield you from the world like this.

“Then don’t be strong. If it feels better, be weak, my dear. I’m the only one here and I promise you that won’t mind.”

You know that, for once, he won’t. Astarion ‘my favourite activity is to judge everyone I meet’  Ancunín is happy to let you lay your soul bare in front of him. So you do, you let yourself force every emotion you’ve ever bottled up leak out of you, in drips at first and then in a full tsunami. You cry so hard that you lose the ability to make sound for a while, silently choking on tears long since overdue.

He holds you all through it. He is not a strong man but his grip is tight, keeping you grounded, and he knows it helps because eventually you go from crying to sobbing to neutral to asleep. You breath evens out into something more controlled and when he moves to look at your face he is relieved your eyes have shut and that you can finally find a little peace. Gods know you deserve it.

You’re the strongest one of them all. He decides that perhaps he wouldn’t mind being there to help you shoulder things, if you need.

He lays down with you, limbs tangled, and drifts off.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget@hopeful-n-sad

#astarion x reader #astarion imagine #astarion x you #astarion x tav

[jamminvroomvroom]

4 with lando :)))

flashing lights - kanye west (respect the art not the artist!)

LN4 x reader

tysm for the request xoxo!! finally continuing my requests (sorry it took ages whoops) flipped my list and went from the bottom for this bc otherwise we were gonna have some repeats lol

images below from pinterest - i claim no ownership 🙃

warnings: none! some swearing, some fluff, lando being a funny little camera shy pr machine - but fr minors pls just dni with my work okay tysm!!!

lando was frantically pacing your apartment when you walked in, eyes wild, as if he hadn’t slept, and hair an absolute disheveled state. his usually sun-kissed skin seemed to get even paler when he heard the door shut behind you, coming to a halt in your kitchen and staring at you as though he’d seen a ghost.

“lando?” you questioned, confused as to, a) why he was here so early, and b) why he looked like he was about to confess that he had killed your entire bloodline.

“baby, i’m so sorry.” your blood ran cold. what had he done? he closed the space between you, tentatively taking your hands.

“lando… what’s going on?” you tilted your head, starting to sweat in your oversized leather jacket. you’d just been out running errands, picking up bits for the dinner you were supposed to be sharing with the mclaren driver, much later in the day.

“i didn’t think anyone had seen us but then i had my assistant, the entire pr department and my mother phoning me, and then max called and said that him and pietra wanted to see if we were okay, before i could call anyone else back which confused the fuck outta me, so i finally checked twitter and there it was and i just got in the car and came here but god, i’m so sorry.” lando finally exhaled, looking like he was about to pass out, with creases so deep on his forehead that you thought they’d stay there permanently.

“okay, lando? sweetheart? yeah, okay i’m gonna need a bit more info.” you over enunciated each word, stressing that you were still in the absolute dark about whatever was on the verge of sending him into cardiac arrest.

“there’s photos. of us. kissing.” he finally said, quietly, and after a good ten seconds of staring at you in utter fear.

“fucking hell, i thought something terrible had happened. jesus christ, lando.” you exhaled, eyes wide. he stared at you like you’d grown a second head, stepping forward to mockingly rest his hand against your forehead as if he was checking your temperature.

“are you… are you… okay?” lando asked, eyebrow quirked. he was shocked at how calm you were.

you’d both agreed to keep your relationship private, and over the last five months, that had gone swimmingly well. but some low quality photos taken, as you waited for some friends outside a restaurant in the outskirts of london, had fucking launched the cat out of the bag.

“how bad are the pictures? are we naked or something?” you scoffed at him and now lando was truly confused.

“no, but- but i thought we were gonna keep this quiet.” he murmured.

“i know, baby, but okay, it’s out. is that really so bad? it was bound to happen eventually.” you reasoned, and lando finally saw your point.

“i just want to protect you, from all of the lights and the flashing cameras. love you too much to lose you to those vultures.” lando dipped his forehead against yours as he spoke, eyes locked on yours. you couldn’t help but smile at him, the loveliest man you could have wished for.

“oh, my sweet, sweet boy,” you crooned, pecking his lips. “you know i love to show off.” he laughed at that, a low rumbling in his chest.

you pulled away, stepping around him and walking further into your apartment, dropping all of your stuff down in your kitchen.

“anyways, i already saw the pictures. we look hot.” you ignored his incredulous ‘what?’, waving him off. “now, come here and help me make dinner.”

#lavenderlando #lando norris #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble #lando norris fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #blurbs #drabble #blurb #lando norris fluff #lando norris fics #f1 fics #f1 fic #request #ask #writing things #f1 fluff #jas’s spotify blurbs

[doberbutts]

You mentioned in response to another ask that you don't use "transandrophobia" because the trans theory you were taught by trans women told you that "transmisogyny" covered those things and that is a total revelation to me. I've been thinking for a long time that it seemed to me that the idea of transmisogyny *does* cover transandrophobia, it just impacts trans femmes and trans mascs differently a lot of the time. But I had no idea that there has been theory/discussion that says this. I'm more used to the idea of "TMA" with the implication that only trans women are affected by transmisogyny. Is that more of a new thing and transmisogyny used to be considered as a more broad term? And would you trace that change to the same issue you're talking about with a lot of current feminism forgetting how feminism is also a "men's issue"?

Idk if I would call it "new" per say. The word trans-misogyny was coined in 2007 and did not include trans men, but the book in which it was coined did mention that language was likely needed to describe the trans man experience as well. There have been a number of different attempts, but none have really stuck.

I went to college starting in 2010, so roughly 3 years after Serrano coined the word. While in college, my school's GSA wanted LGBT elders to come and talk to all the scared freshly-minted adults who were trying to figure out this being gay thing. The woman who ran my GSA found a Trans woman who was willing to be my mentor and sponsor, she wrote my letters for me back when that was still necessary for medical transition, and we met frequently for her to teach me more or less how to be trans safely. Some things she did not know- how to bind safely, how to attach a semi-permenant packer, etc. But others she knew very well, because she herself dealt with both being seen as a man by society as well as the effects of testosterone on her body for decades before she transitioned.

Anyway. This woman was great, and is a significant portion of the reason I'm still alive to this day. And she is who taught me the word transmisogyny, and that it should really cover all trans people because all trans people experience an intersection of transphobia and misogyny. Whether that was popular theory at the time or not, that is what us young kids learned directly from the mouths of trans women at my college, which to me means that others were also learning this particular version of transfeminist theory.

Unfortunately by the time I dropped out of college in 2013/2014, online trans spaces were having stupid arguments such as "transtrenders are bad" and "neopronouns are bad" and "nonbinary people are cis people who want to feel special" and "trans men should be hunted for sport" and "trans women are incel nazis" and. Well. I went "wow this place is a cesspit and I feel like no one here has actually talked to another transgender person face to face" and then did not engage with the online community. So I don't really know how common or popular the understanding I was taught was at the time, though it certainly seems quite rare now.

(As a caveat I don't really think trans people of any gender have anything that isn't similar with each other when it comes to oppression, outside of certain bodily things that can't be helped because that's literally the thing we're transgender about, and I think we all experience very similar oppression but sometimes with a different hat)

As for what caused this particular defining to fall into obscurity? I really can't say. I don't know how popular the transfeminist theory the trans women who spoke at my GSA meetings taught us actually was in the broader world. Every once in a while I meet someone who lived through that same time who remembers that theory, which tells me it had gained at least some traction if it was being discussed in multiple parts of the country, but... that's really it. And it's pretty unpopular theory nowadays, I get people calling me a scumbag and claiming that I say transmisogyny doesn't exist just for mentioning that the theory I was taught includes trans men in the discussion.

But I don't think it's specifically the whole TMA/TME thing. I think it's a lack of understanding of what oppression and what intersectionality are, how they operate, how they work, how we define things through them. There are many people who believe that men do not experience misogyny. But, they do, that's why it's an insult to a boy to call him a girl during a moment of femininity or vulnerability, as a means of calling him weak because girls are believed to be weak. There are many people who think intersectionality turns oppression into additives, as though stacking marginalizations like dnd buffs. This also falls apart because oppression is not like quick math where you add a +5 to every roll if any part of your identity is privileged and a -7 if any part is oppressed.

I've had people get mad at me for saying that straight people experience homophobia while we also have sitting politicians that make jokes on live TV about how they'd drown their (presumably straight) children if they found out their kids were gay. For saying that GNC cis people experience transphobia when butches are getting kicked out of bathrooms and drag queens are getting jumped in bars. For reminding people that when Sikhs are killed due to being mistaken for Muslim in this country that hates Muslims over a national tragedy our Muslim population did not cause, it's still considered and called Islamophobia, because just because Americans are too stupid to tell a Sikh from a Muslim doesn't mean they weren't spurred into that hate crime by their rampant hatred of Muslims and the sight of a turban and long beard.

[badnoahmens]

Sweep Me Off My Feet

Noah Sebastian x Reader

A/N: this was an anon request - I hope I did you proud! “Reader and him are bffs and she gets really depressed staying alone during the shutdown, so Noah picks her up and she ends up living with him during it all. So everyone else in the band quickly realizes that they are more than besties, just in the way they act with each other.”

42 days into this ‘lockdown’, you think. 42 days since it was all over the news, ‘stay in your house, don’t leave unless it's for a medical reason. Blah blah blah’. The panic has started to subside, people are somewhat used to the idea now, despite how upsidedown the world is seeming. The days were just so long, and the nights seemed to drag on forever. There wasn’t really an end in sight, just more and more delays of the inevitable. “Lockdown extended another week…month… the rest of our lives”.

There was only one thing helping you get through this, and that was Noah. He would be the one who always answered the phone, answered the messages, sent you hilarious videos or photos of himself. It was this connection that was what was stopping you from going insane.

Your house was otherwise empty. You lived on your own, along with your dying house plants. A blanket of darkness was getting ever so comfortable to live in, and it was becoming dangerous. You would go days without showering, the house was a mess, and the food you were eating could barely even be called edible.

It was 4pm, and you still hadn’t left the couch. Staring mind-numbingly at the TV as a show that auto-played in front of you. It was like your brain was paralyzing you, stopping from being alive. Instead, just existing; taking up space.

The only light in the room came from the TV as figures from an unknown show ran about their lives. The curtains were shut and all the doors and windows closed. A sudden brrrrrrrr from your phone drew you out of the shroud you were in, the phone screen lighting up with a new message.

Noah: Have you drank any water today?

You scoff. Was this man stalking you?

You reply: since when are you tracking my vitals?

You stand, bones creaking and cracking as you finally show some sign of life, and then saunter over to the kitchen. A cup that looks relatively clean sits by the sink, so you fill it up with water and drink it as quickly as you can.

Your phone lights up again.

Noah: You just drank some, didn’t you?

Your response? Nothing. He knows he’s right. You won’t even need to say anything.

Noah: knew it.

You: shut up.

You look down at your phone, and then around at the house. It was embarrassing. The smell was suddenly becoming apparent, and it was a concoction of body sweat, dampness and something else that might have been the dead plant.

You sigh. Knowing this wasn’t any way to live. Leaving the TV playing, you walk upstairs and to the bathroom, twisting the handles in the shower so the water comes pouring down. The steam begins to hollow out and you strip from your clothes, tossing them to the side. The waterfall feels clean, it envelopes you and you close your eyes in bliss. Why has this been so hard to do? The scent of your shampoo brings a slight smile to your face when you wash your hair, and it may just be because you were proud of yourself just for doing that. As you rinse your hair, there was a noise from outside the bathroom. A bang. Then a crash. Then a… clink?

Your heartbeat rises. Someone else was there, it wasn’t from the tv and you knew it. With shaking hands you shut off the shower and grasp your towel, wrapping your body in it roughly. Your mind starts to race. Will they leave without knowing you were there? Will they find you? What will they do if they do? Looking around the room, you panic when your phone is missing. It’s still downstairs. Fuck.

The footfalls grow louder as they climb the stairs, slowly. And then, as though he knows you would be hiding, Noah calls out.

“Are you home? It’s just me! Please don't attack me!”

The breath you were holding onto finally is let out, and you stomp over to the door, swinging it open aggressively.

“What the fuck, Noah!” You yell at him, hair dripping onto the floor as he stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. His hair was longer now, coming close to sitting on his shoulders. His dark brown eyes were wide as they stared at you, in a towel, in the middle of the hallway, with an angry expression twisted in your face. “I thought you were coming to kill me!”

It was then that you noticed a bag in his hand, a garbage bag, full of the rubbish that has been littering your house for weeks. “Are you cleaning?”

He still is looking at you, “I thought it would help…” he says sheepishly.

“Why are you cleaning?” you ask, quite literally dumbfounded.

“I know what you’re like. This isn’t healthy. I’m cleaning and you’re going to pack a bag and come live with us” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Come live with you?”

He nods his head, then turns and walks into your bedroom. You see the light in the room shift as he slides the curtains and opens the window, letting a light breeze slowly waft into the room and down towards you. You’re still confused as you see him rummaging around in your bedroom, throwing rubbish into a bag, then looking up to meet your confused stare.

“I can pack a bag for you if you’re just going to stand there” he remarks, and you respond quickly.

“I’ll pack myself, thank you very much. I’ve seen your fashion sense and I don’t trust you”

“What do you mean!” Noah calls back in disbelief.

“Grass shoes!” You yell back.

He stands in silence for a moment. “Enough said,” he states finally in defeat.

As you walk into your room, you start to feel overwhelmed watching Noah already having a full bag of trash. He was here all of 5 minutes and had done more around the house than you had in a month. Guilt started to eat away at the pit of your stomach, and Noah noticed the energy shift in the room. When he looked at you tears started to form.

“Hey…. Hey hey hey hey” he says, dropping the bag and coming to your side, wrapping his long arms around you. You bury your head in his chest and loop your arms around him. Breathing in his scent helped, but it didn’t stop the tears completely.

“I can stop if it’s not helping”

“No, please, I’m just sorry. It’s a lot. I haven’t seen you in so long”

“I know, but I knew I had to do something.”

It took all of a few hours to get the house into a relatively clean state. With bags of rubbish out of the way, clothes and dishes put back into their place, weeks of dirt and grime finally cleaned, you started to feel alive again. There was something about spending time with Noah that made you feel better. When the sun was starting to set, your house looked normal, bags were packed, and you were closing the door behind you as you left and walked towards Noah’s car.

The drive back to his house was quiet. You watched out the window as the view zoomed past. It seemed odd being outside, to be moving somewhere especially when you were not supposed to be leaving your house. But this was essential. This was for a medical reason. If Noah had not come to help you, who knows how long it would have taken to start completely falling apart.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, Noah stepped out and collected your bags, then headed straight inside having you follow him in. Although it was early, you were exhausted.

“I think I might just go straight to bed,” you murmur to Noah. He nods, then leads you to a bedroom. It was mostly bare, but it would be perfect. After how much clutter you had been surrounded with lately, the minimalism was refreshing.

You drop your bags on the bed, then turn to see Noah at the door.

“If you need anything, you know to come find me” he speaks softly. You nod in response. He then closes the door leaving you with nothing but yourself.

You look around the room. A bed was pushed up against the wall. A painting hung opposite it, and a plant stood tall in the corner by the door. The view out of the window showed the tall tree that stood in the backyard by the timber fence, and it looked like there were a few small birds taking up residence in a nest off one of the branches. You smiled at the birds, admiring their own peacefulness. They were content. Happy. Living with what they had. You were determined to get there yourself.

After a restless night’s sleep, you awoke to the sun shining through the window. The birds had left for the morning, possibly to get their food, and you decided you needed to do the same.

As you exit out of your new bedroom, the house is quiet aside from the muffled sounds of the tv from around the corner. You come around to see the animated faces of unknown characters playing out. It was an anime, and you were unfamiliar, but you did recognise the back of 2 heads facing the screen with their back to you. Noah and Jolly were sitting down on a couch lost in the adventure they were watching. You rounded the couch and slumped next to them. Nothing needed to be said, and nothing was said. They just shifted over to give you more room and continued on with their show.

This is what you needed. This new normal. With people around you. People that made you smile, made you actually want to get up in the morning, and to watch funny shows with.

As the anime continued, you started to ask some questions. “So who’s side are we supposed to be on?” “Aren’t they supposed to be the bad guy?” “What do you mean they just died?” “How old are these characters supposed to be?”

Noah and Jolly answered every single one of them, explaining plot points, theories and sometimes even loopholes in the storytelling.

After an hour, Jolly left to retreat to the kitchen, leaving yourself and Noah sitting side by side. He looked over at you, sharing a smile, and threw his arm over your shoulder. The action made you fall onto his side, a strangely comforting feeling after being so distant for so long. But a feeling that you knew you could get used to pretty quick.

2 months have passed now. You were still living with Noah and the boys. He still made you laugh and smile like you never had before. The days were simple, spending time with each other, watching shows, writing music, and playing games. But tonight it was another night on the couch. It became a tradition these days to all be sprawled out, limbs over limbs, invading personal space, all in an effort to spend quality time together and work as a close unit of friends. It felt so natural with them, they were beyond welcoming, and made you feel like a part of the family.

Just like all the nights that had passed previously, Nick was the first to go, standing with a sigh, rubbing his belly, and sauntering off into his room. Next to follow was Jolly, after many arguments about his falling asleep during the show, he finally admitted defeat and retreated back to his bedroom.

This left you and Noah alone. The growing haze of sleepiness was creeping ever so close to taking over. Your eyelids felt so heavy that it was impossible to keep them open. I’ll just rest my eyes for a minute, you say to yourself, knowing full well this was the biggest lie. It was mere seconds until the dream state took you under.

You were abruptly awoken by the feeling of rummaging coming from beneath you. Lifting your head from its place, you peer between the slits of your open eyes. You’re met with Noah’s face looking at you, perplexed and a little worried.

“Go back to sleep, I’m sorry I woke you” he whispers in a soft tone, a little raspy and sleepy himself.

Twisting your head you can see you laying by his side, squished between his body and the back of the couch pillows. Noah was laying on his back, dangling close to the edge, one leg hanging off at the knee to stop from slipping off altogether. His hands rested on your back, gliding up and down in a soothing motion. His arm was twisted around your side, with you nestled comfortably and quite perfectly fitted under his arm with head resting on his chest.

A hand of yours was tucked under your head, and it takes a second to realize how you got here. When you fell asleep, you must have slipped down onto Noah, and him being the gentleman he is, didn’t want to wake you. Was he asleep himself? By the look of his hair, spread across the beige pillow in a tangled mess, it’d be a good guess to say that he was.

You lay your head down once more, gazing drizzly up at Noah, who tenderly brushed some of the loose strands of hair away from your face.

“You know you talk in your sleep” he uttered quietly, as if not to disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

Still half asleep, you close your eyes and sigh.

“I was afraid of that” you whisper.

“It was adorable,” he says, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Noah leans his head down, straining it at an almost awkward angle, to meet your face. Suddenly, you weren’t so sleepy anymore. He was so close. His breath washed over your face and wafted down past your neck. He was lingering, slow, questioningly. Did he want this? Did you? Shivers were running down your spine, possibly from the surge of butterflies in your stomach. Noah was your friend, your closest friend, and would this ruin it? Thoughts were running wild in your head, dancing dangerously close to ruining what was about to happen.

Noah notices, he sees you hesitate, and he pulls back. Your stomach drops.

“I’m sorry, I-“ he starts.

You interrupt him by leaning up and meeting his lips with yours. He flinched at the impact, but didn't pull back. Instead, his lips move like yours, mimicking the motion you create, parting slightly to allow just that tiny bit more of a connection. You slide up, straddling Noah so that your thighs are at the sides of his torso, moving your hands so they are on either side of his face, fingers tangling with his long hair in a feeble attempt to ground yourself in the moment. His hands move too, gingerly griping at your hips, but not as to hold, but to caress. You feel a tremor of anticipation across your body, the light pressure that he creates between you two, rolling his body to be closer to yours, makes the sensation even more intimate.

You’re still kissing him, heavily. His mouth parts more, flicking the tip of his tongue over your lips as though to ask for more. You respond with the same motion, with tongues now intertwining as you begin to taste him. The fears and worries from before are long gone, and all that you could think of now was him, was that he wants this just as much as you do.

The intensity between you and Noah grows more. It's as if the universe has narrowed down to this singular moment, where every touch, every sensation, becomes heightened and electrifying. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the softness of his skin — it all consumes your senses.

With each passing second, the kiss deepens, evolving into something more profound and passionate. Your tongues dance together, exploring the uncharted territory of each other's mouths. It's a delicate balance between fervor and tenderness, a beautiful symphony of desire and affection, orchestrated perfectly just for the two of you.

Noah's hands glide up your sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. As his hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers gently caress your skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body and intensifying the sensation. Time becomes irrelevant as you revel in this newfound closeness. The outside world ceases to exist, and it's just the two of you, entwined in an embrace that speaks volumes without uttering a single word. In this intimate dance, you feel a profound sense of trust and vulnerability, knowing that you are sharing something special and rare.

You can feel him begin to writhe beneath you, legs shifting and pressing against the space between yours. You pause momentarily, letting the moment linger, before reciprocating the same passion, grinding down with your hips to create friction between your clothes. The moan that elicits from Noah echoes into your mouth, the feeling of pleasure taking over him for a moment. As the kiss lingers, your hands wander, discovering the contours of each other's bodies. His hands now gripping desperately at your body, one cinched below your thigh, pulling it up closer to him, the other hooked around the back of your neck, thumb rubbing delicate shapes into your skin. Every touch, every caress, elicits a gasp or a sigh from both of you, like a plea for more.

But eventually, the need for air becomes undeniable, and you reluctantly break the kiss, your lips still tingling from the connection. Breathless and flushed, you meet Noah's gaze, searching for reassurance and affirmation. He looks back at you, with the same search in his eyes. Almost like he’s looking for answers too, like he’s asking if he could continue. You lean your forehead against Noah's, your breaths intermingling as you revel in the afterglow of that passionate kiss. Both of you are out of breath, panting in an effort to regain some kind of consciousness. Time seems to stand still, as if the universe itself is holding its breath, acknowledging the significance of this shared moment. That is, until the rattle of the fridge door, and the flood of its light tears you from the moment, violently throwing you back to the reality around you. With a jolt, your head darts towards the source, the silhouette of Jolly in the fridge gives you your answer.

“Bout time you guys kiss and make up” he says, with such a carefree nature, a hint of humor playing in his last words. “Nick, you owe me 20!” He calls, exiting the room and around the corner.

“We’re they fucking, or just making out?” You hear Nick call from another room.

“Just making out. Thank Christ” Jolly answers to himself, leaving you and Noah to giggle, flushed red with embarrassment. Despite being caught in the act, it didn’t dampen the mood. You were still straddling Noah, but sitting more upright now. He sits up, readjusting so you sit atop his lap. He brushes a loose strand behind your ear, and looks at you tenderly.

It might be the lack of oxygen, but the way the colorful light from the tv dances on Noah’s face makes him seem more beautiful, like something you’ve never seen in him before.

In the room's shifting shadows, the illustrations decorating his neck come alive, dancing in the changing colors that starkly contrast with the white of his shirt. His hair was a mess, tangled and knitted from your fingers, but it was his eyes, and the way they looked into your soul, that made you feel at home. With your hands draped around his neck, you lean in once more, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. He closes his eyes and leans into you again, pushing his hands against your back to make you closer to him as you both revel in the fleeting moment. Even if it did change things in the future, you didn’t care.

#bad omens #bad omens band #noah sebastian #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #nick folio #bad omens fanfiction #fan fiction #bad omens fic #fanfic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fan fiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian davis #bad omens fan fics #bad omens fan fic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens cult

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Parallels

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 3.4K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, motherly issues, tw: violence/abuse towards minors

—————

It wasn’t your fault your mom didn’t care for you but why couldn’t you care for me. We all have ways to cope, mine is taking pen to page, yours was needle to arm. I grieve for the girl you should’ve been...for the mom you could’ve been

A few days go by, with the only contact being Tommy to deliver you food though you barely stomach it. Ellie had stopped visiting probably Joel’s doing leaving you to the silence and your thoughts. It wasn’t until one day when both Maria and Tommy had arrived that you hadn’t expected them to open the door for you. You stared at the open cell taking a step out right as the door leading outside bursts open as two men struggle to bring in a thrashing and screaming man. He’s bloody clearly from a fight he lost, but his clothes are familiar, and when he made eye contact with you a surge of strength as he lunged for you.

“You murdering fucking cunt!” Snarls and insults hurled at you, words you’ve never heard of thrown at you. The two Jackson men reign him back in as Maria rests a gentle hand on your shoulder. You pull away harshly from the contact and Tommy leads you outside the community jail Maria following behind you. The sunlight blinds you stepping outside shielding your eyes slightly as the cold air sends a full body shake and you bring the coat closer around your body. What you didn’t expect was to see Joel leaning against a telephone pole a deep-set frown on his face.

“A patrol came back with him, they ran into raiders, said they were looking for what they described as a ruthless woman from a cabin,” Tommy explains and your blood runs cold. They weren’t kidding, these guys were actively hunting you down because you killed some of their guys.

“The reason we’re letting you out is we needed the room to question him. Now we’re relying on your trust you won’t try anything or we will find an alternative holding space.” Maria explains and you slowly nod looking at the two adults before you glance over at Joel who’s still watching you Maria notices, “So with that, you will be staying Joel.”

“What?!” “Tommy!” Both you and Joel speak at the same time, you don’t want to be near the man who has almost choked you and tried to break your arm. The man steps forward grabbing his brother’s collar,

“That wasn’t the fucking deal, you said to watch the kid but not her living with me.” He says as Tommy shakes his head,

“I had no choice, Joel you think I trust anyone else to watch after her? I would do it myself, but we got the baby.” Tommy says and Joel steps back with a curse on his lip.

“Hey, I’m not happy living with you either old man.” You spit and he gives you a look making a step toward you but Tommy steps between you two giving you both a look, “Please Joel.” He felt like he was dealing with two Joels. The stubbornness of his brother and he couldn’t ignore the eerily similar mannerisms you two had. Joel stares at his brother before he curses stepping back he looks over at you pointing,

“You try any shit, I’ll make you sleep outside.” He threatens and you cross your arms mumbling, “Probably better than being with your old ass.”

“I swear-” “Y/n!” Tommy gives you a look and you sigh rolling your eyes.

“I won’t try anything.” You promise as the two of you hold tense eye contact before he turns and heads down the street, and you look over at Tommy and Maria.

“Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be kid,” Tommy says and you scoff crossing your arms, “He fucking started it.” You say and the two adults sigh mentally preparing themselves for putting you and Joel together in the same house.

“Come on, let’s get you set up. I have some spare clothes that will fit you better than what Ellie has.” Maria says as the three of you leave the jail making your way to your new home.

You could feel the stares from people as you walk between Tommy and Maria, barring your teeth makes them scurry away or look away quickly and the two adults sigh at the feral behavior. You were like an animal asserting your dominance, a sign of ‘back of the fuck off’ coming off you. “Come on kid,” Tommy says as you turn down Rancher Street entering Joel and Ellie’s home. You hear the clink of the glass seeing Joel in the kitchen setting down his drink. A bottle of amber rests next to the glass in his hand, you freeze slightly seeing the liquid. The yelling of a woman as similar amber sloshes in the cracked glass, the liquor fueling the rage that always led to nothing well.

“kid…Kid?” Tommy’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you turn your gaze away from the man in the kitchen to the man beside you. “Let me show you the room you’ll be staying in.” Following behind Tommy your hands clutched to your pants hearing the liquid being poured before the glass slams back on the counter again. Tommy opens a door and you find Ellie inside moving things around. It looked to be used for miscellaneous things but those items were shoved in a corner, it looked swept up clean to have you stay in.

“I didn’t believe it when Joel said you were staying here! I tried cleaning it up as much, but we can get you stuff to make it your own, books, posters...” Ellie rambles as Tommy chuckles at the hyper girl speaking to the older one who silently takes in the room.

“Alright, Maria should be here soon with some clothes that will fit you better. Anything you might need just let us know, I’m sure someone in the community might have it.” Tommy says and you nod before Ellie races over grabbing your hand. Panic rushes through you as you rip it free from her grasp staring at her with wide eyes. Tommy and Ellie look at you slightly with pity in their eyes at the defensiveness in you.

“Sorry…come on I’ll give you a tour of the house, then I’ll show you the town, then there’s Dina and Jesse, oh and Cat you’ll like her.” Ellie rambles and you turn to Tommy who gestures for you to follow. Around the house, she shows off the living room and dining room, you stand in the entranceway of the kitchen as she opens cabinets and drawers explaining where everything is. You tune her out slightly your gaze focused on the bottle of amber the hair on your skin rising as you were entranced by it but not in awe but fear.

‘Fucking ungrateful brat’

“Okay let me show you upstairs.” Ellie’s voice makes you flinch slightly as she leads you upstairs. You’re silent your thoughts running wild, you hadn’t thought about her in years, as far as you were concerned she was the last thing that should be on your mind. You let the girl distract you as she shows you her room, the posters she explains Joel had found for her on patrols, the collection of comics that she promised to share with you, and the photos and sketches on a corkboard. “This is Joel’s workroom, he doesn’t like people in here same with his room…so I say just ignore it.” She points to two doors that are next to each other. Ellie let you know where both bathrooms were before the tour was over.

“Well this is home and there’s the garage. Joel’s thinking of making that another room said I could have my own space but is gonna wait until it’s warmer to start working on it,” Ellie explains as she grabs her coat and hat pulling them on, “Come on I’ll show some places in town.” Ellie swings her pack over her shoulder and opens the front door and there’s Joel almost as if he was waiting there to stop you two.

“Shit Joel trying to scare the crap outta me.” She jokes moving past him but the man remains silent looking at you. You knew a ruthless person when you saw one, you knew he did things he wasn’t proud of, the same with you but it was needed to survive. You knew he didn’t like you not an ounce of pleasure was it to have you under his roof.

“Give us a minute to talk kid,” Joel says and Ellie tries to retort but he steps inside closing the door and leaving the two of you alone. It’s silent before he speaks up, “To be frank I don’t like you. I don’t like you in my house, around my brother, with my kid. I’m only going to tell you this once, try anything and I mean anything that has you out of line. I won’t hesitate to do worse things than those Raiders would do if they had you.” His threat is not light and you knew he wasn’t bluffing. Though time had to soften him with Ellie and being in Jackson you brought back that darker side of him when he was younger and more ruthless.

“Are we clear?” He says and you nod silently and he grunts stepping aside and opening the door revealing Ellie waiting on the steps, “Be back in an hour no later.” He says as you step out joining the girl outside.

“Ready?” She says a wide grin on her face completely unaware of the threat her father had just given her. You nod and you both leave the home heading towards the main street. Your gaze darts around quickly taking in all the people of different ages around you, you hadn’t seen this many people not since you were younger. Most of it was spent alone traveling and fighting to survive. You feel each heated gaze and the whispers that follow and shackle you. Though you speak to no one as Ellie points at places explaining you felt drained and on edge, your hands are stuffed in your pockets as you follow beside her. Even though the girl was younger you felt like a child trailing after their sibling for their guidance.

“So there’s the mess hall, there you can have, breakfast, lunch, dinner, but sometimes we just cook at home if we have the time,” She points at the large building as people walk in and out of it. You remember this building running through it to escape Joel and Tommy. “Yeah that’s pretty much it, we should head back or Joel will tear us a new one,” Ellie says and you follow her as she claims she’s taking a shortcut through the back of the place, as you follow her you hear voices and the aggressive tone has you on edge. Ellie seems to notice the both of you turning the corner. You see a girl with dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and tan skin as she’s backed against the wall by three guys around your age.

“Hey back the fuck up!” Ellie calls out and the three boys and girl look over spotting the two of you as Ellie moves to stand in front of the girl protecting her.

“Aw, Dina you’re little girlfriend here to rescue you. What’s Jesse gonna say?” The boy in the middle says as Dina glares at him and Ellie’s face flushes at the comment but quickly hides behind a sharp look.

“Just leave her alone fuckface.” Ellie growls and the boys all chuckle at the presence of the sixteen-year-old tries trying to protect Dina who looks to be your age. “Come on Williams what you gonna do, go cry to Daddy and Momm- oh wait it’s just Daddy.” The middle boy says as the other two laugh and you see her stiffen hearing the comment about her mother.

“Just leave us alone, Derek,” Dina calls to the middle boy who shakes his head as he steps towards Ellie she bites her lip and you see her hands balled up in fists.

“No come on Williams, gonna go home and cry over Mommy.” He taunts and her face is bright red in anger you’re not sure how her anger transferred to you but your body reacted.

“Hey.” You call out and he turns right at the moment your fist slams into his nose and you feel it shatter under your knuckles as he grabs his broken nose. The four other teens look at you in shock kinda forgetting you were there until a complete fight broke out. One of the boys jumps at you their fist striking your cheek the metallic taste filling your mouth. You kick your foot striking him in the groin his hands grab his dick and your fist slams into his throat as he grabs it gasping for air and falling to the ground. A hand grabs your hair as your temple collides with the brick wall stars flashing your vision and they pull back to slam you into the wall again. Grabbing his wrist you twist yourself free until you feel a crack as his screams fill the air. A punch to his face brings him down as you barely dodge a blow to your lip feeling it split from the force. Seeing Derek with blood pouring down his nose fire in his eyes as he holds his fists up.

“You fucking bitch!” He hisses and blood coats your teeth as you grin more sliding down your temple and you bring your fists up waving at him to come at you. With a roar, he swings a fist and you dodge landing a shot right at his kidney. A sharp gasp from the sudden pain as his hands go to grab his side not able to block his face as you drive your fist forward. The punch brings him to the ground as you pin him down your fists slamming into his face and beating the crap out of him. You hear screaming as blood coats your hands that you don’t realize is coming from him. His fighting grows weaker but arms wrap around your waist and you’re pulled off the boy, your elbow driving back but another pair of hands stop you. You’re heaving air trying to catch your breath as the red clears from your vision and you suddenly take in your surroundings. A crowd surrounds you as multiple people surround the three boys looking at their injuries. They all had severe injuries as you tried fighting the arms holding you back. You see Maria hovering over Derek’s body a man beside her as he screams curses at you. You are pulled away from the aftermath of your fight around the corner you slam against a wall not trying to protect your head as you find yourself staring at a furious Joel holding your shoulders to the wall. Behind him is Tommy who paces his hands in his hair as he curses with each step, beside him are Ellie and Dina who are silent but Joel’s hand grabs your jaw making you look back at him.

“What the fuck did I say about ‘try anything and see what happens’ did you no fucking understand!” He roars in your face as you continue heaving blood pouring from your mouth staining your chin some blood almost gets in your eye and causes some hair to stick to your face. “Are you fucking listening to me!” He shakes your body.

“Get rid of me then.” You retort and he slams you further against the wall your head smacking against the brick again, “Is this a fucking joke to you!”

“Joel!” Tommy yells as the man still keeps a grip on you, “Fuck…just get her out of here, and you two better not lie about what happened.” Tommy turns looking at Dina and Ellie who nod in fear not used to seeing the man this angry, Joel yes but Tommy no.

“Get the fuck out of here. Now!” He says and Joel pulls you off the wall shoving you to walk as you move. You examine your split knuckles before using the back of your hand to wipe the blood off your chin spitting some excess pooling in your mouth on the ground as it stains the snow. The walk is tense as people watch the four of you head towards the Miller home. It had only been minutes since the fight ended but the news spread like wildfire in the close-knit community. Joel rips open the shoving you inside as you stumble catching yourself on the wall before you slam into it.

“Joel!” Ellie yells at the aggressiveness coming from the man, she knew he was pissed but enough to shove a kid around is where she drew the line. Gripping the corner of the wall as he moves past you reaching the kitchen and you hear the telltale sound of glass hitting the table and you’re frozen gripping the wall. You knew you were in Jackson but everything felt just like Kansas City.

“Fucking ungrateful brat!” She yells as the glass hits the table and you are surprised it didn’t shatter. A meek child clutches her scraped hands using the dirty sleeves of her shirt to wipe the stray tears wincing from the bruise on her eye. The ruined book at your feet. You had tried to get it from the small library only to run into the kids that bullied you and you quickly lost the fight which got Fedra involved. This caused her to be called away from whatever busy she was in to deal with this which leads us to now. The glass hits the counter again as you flinch. “You fucking pull me away 'cause you couldn’t handle a few fucking kids? Are you that pathetic!” She hisses. Your gaze moves to the wall not wanting to look into the kitchen. Just let her vent and then you’ll be alright. A hand grabs your arm almost ripping it from your socket and you're whipped around to face the woman who was going to murder you with how angry she was.

Your mother.

“Are you fucking listening to me? You’re so fucking stupid I swear why the fuck did I have a dumbass kid!” She yells and your eyes shut instinctively feeling her spit land on your face, the stench of nicotine and liquor fresh on her breath. She shoves you away and you hit the ground wincing from the pain, “Should’ve fed you to fucking infected,” She says pulling the bottle to her lips and you watch the amber liquid drain as you push yourself to stand with shaky limbs.

“Want me to feed you to infected, want mommy to let them rip you apart,” Tears flood your eyes as you shake your head begging her not to, “How ‘bout I leave you in the streets and let the sick bastards out there do whatever they want to you. They would like a young ten-year-old.” She says as you cry out more pleading for her not to kick you out. A sharp slap across your face and you feel your lip split.

“Stop fucking crying god it’s irritating.” She shouts and you bite your lip only making it bleed more to muffle your tears. She looks down at the child turning away, “Get the fuck out of my face. I don’t wanna see you at all tonight.” She shouts and you scurry off running to the small corner hidden behind the rotting couch away from her gaze.

“Are you listening to me!” A man’s voice yells out as you gasp for air your fingers dig into the wallpaper, and everything blurs around you. You weren’t hidden behind the couch to avoid her wrath but the feeling was still there but only with a different person.

“Y/n?” A hand grazes your shoulder and you book it down the hall barely avoiding Joel as he comes out the amber glass in his hand that sends panic through you. Your body slams into the door to your bedroom as you shut it behind you twisting the lock as you hear a fist bang on the door. Your hands grab the dresser pushing it forward until it blocks the door. The banging and the yell of your name only get louder. Covering your ears trying to drown it out, you felt the tears stinging your eyes biting your lip hard enough to bleed more to muffle the whimpers from coming out. Boxes are pilled along the wall giving a corner for you to hide behind. Hands against your ears trying to block out the sounds as you try to calm yourself down.

You’re not there anymore.

Kansas City is gone.

She’s gone. Stop crying.

Stop fucking crying!

#the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x platonic!reader #joel miller x teen!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #ellie williams x platonic!reader #ellie williams x teen!reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #tommy miller x platonic!reader #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller

[mollysolo]

hellooooo!!! could you please do a story on xavier thorpe where him and fem reader are doing hw together fluff pleaseee thank you sm:)

Fool For You

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe X fem!Reader

Summary: Xavier invites you over to his dorm to work together on an assignment from Ms. Thornhills class.

Warnings: Mutual pining, classmates to lovers

Word Count: 1k

a/n: i hope you like this!

As you started to walk in the direction of your next class, you felt someone gently tap your shoulder. You looked over your shoulder right away and are met with the sight of the tall boy from your botany class, Xavier Thorpe.

If you were being honest, he was a very attractive guy and ever since the semester started a few months ago, you had started to form a crush on him. And soon enough, he was all you could ever think about.

But he only talked to you every once in a while, even in your shared classes so you began to wonder why he felt the need to get your attention.

“Hey.” he said, a soft smile on his face and a friendly tone to his voice. He looked so pretty as he stared down at you and his eyes easily lit up because of the attention you were giving him.

“Hi.” you replied as he started to walk next to you, some confusion still in your mind as to why he was even talking to you.

“What’s up?” you asked him as you could see your next class getting closer and closer in your peripheral vision and you didn’t have much time to waste.

“Would you maybe wanna work on that assignment Ms. Thornhill just gave us, tonight at my dorm?” he asked you, his eyes widening just a little bit.

You could immediately tell that he was nervous about asking you this, it was cute, he was cute.

You kindly smiled up at him and stopped walking right outside of your next class, “Sure.” you answered, pure excitement running through your veins at the thought of being alone with him.

“Okay, cool. I’ll see you at 7 then, if that works with you?” he quickly said, earning a simple nod from you in response before he then smirked at you and ran off in the direction of his next class.

———————————————

It was now 7pm on the dot when you knocked on the door to Xavier’s dorm, half of the room now empty after Rowan’s recent departure from Nevermore.

He opened the door just a few seconds after you initially knocked, another bright smile on his handsome face once he saw you standing there.

It seemed as though he was always smiling around you and you had to admit, it made you feel all giddy to know that you were the reason he was smiling.

He was wearing a pair of black sweatpants along with a dark grey baggy t shirt, a jacket with the schools emblem on over the shirt. He still looked incredibly handsome even in this moment and as you greeted him, you felt your cheeks heat up a bit because of his gaze.

“Hi.” you said, your face perking up as you looked up to meet his eyes once again.

“Hi.” he quickly replied before he then placed his hand on the small of your back and led you inside his dorm, making goosebumps appear on your arms.

You sat down across from him on his bed, he was sitting in front of his pillows and you were sitting in front of the foot of his bed, your folder for the class now resting on your knee. And as you get settled on his bed, you felt yourself space out a bit as you stared directly at him.

He waved his hand in front of your face a moment after your staring began, “You okay?” he asked, a confused look on his face.

You then shook yourself out of that trance and responded, “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. Uh, we should probably start that assignment.” using the assignment as an excuse to look away from him.

So it would be easier for the two of you to work together, you scooted up his bed a little until you were sitting next to him. He couldn’t help but stare at the way your knee came into contact with his as you changed your position.

You looked up at him once you had caught how he was staring at the way your knees touched, a light smirk on your face.

The two of you then began the assignment, both hoping that this awkward feeling would eventually melt away.

And after a little while it did and you started to feel very comfortable around him as if you had known him for years. And because of how easy it was for you two to become more comfortable around each other, it didn’t take long at all to finish the assignment.

Now, the assignment was back in the folder you brought with you and you were laying down, staring at the ceiling above while Xavier laid right next to you, your arms brushing up against each other instead.

You mentally decided to remove the clear tension between you and him with a few simple actions, feeling a bit impatient.

You first looked over at him and slowly intertwined your fingers with his long ones, causing him to look back at you as you softly moved your thumb across the back his hand. You then mustered up all of the confidence you possibly could and opened your mouth to speak to him.

It’s now or never. There’s no harm in being honest. you kept mentally reminding yourself.

“Xavier, I really, really like you.” you confessed, your head nodding a little as you spoke to put emphasis on your words.

He grinned at that and let go of your hand so that he could wrap one of his arms around your waist, his other hand going to hold your face, “I-“ he said before deciding that he didn’t want to use words to show you how he felt about you.

He effortlessly brought your head closer to his and pressed a searing kiss to your lips, the kiss growing more passionate as you relaxed into his touch and kissed him back.

He pulled away just thirty seconds after the kiss initially began, “I like you too, (y/n), a lot. Incase that wasn’t obvious.” he said, another smile rolling out across his lips.

You chuckled at his statement then kissed him again and this time your hands were softly holding his face, while one of his went back to holding your hand as you pressed your lips to his once more.

“I am truly a fool for you, pretty girl.” he muttered while he buried his face in the crook of your neck and his arms reclaimed their now beloved spot around your waist, prompting you to reply with a simple ‘I know’ as another chuckle escaped your mouth.

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[conundrumoftime]

Fandom grandma tales: how I survived canon ruining two of the ships I liked.

(Written after a discussion with some of my TROP fan pals about how canon can break your heart re: shipping, and how fandom manages. There are spoilers here for the entire run of Babylon 5, and for one story JMS wrote after it. yes, that story. sorry.)

Babylon 5 was a sci-fi space opera show that ran from 1993 to 1998. It is sci-fi of the era of 22-episode seasons, of huge ensemble casts with characters who get their own B- and C-plots, with an effects and casting budget that doesn’t always match its ambition, and - something it was quite pioneering in, at the time - grand pre-planned story arcs. 

It’s the first fandom that I was involved with in internet spaces as it was running, or at least when its final season was (there’s Discourse and drama from earlier years that I missed). Its showrunner, J. Michael Straczynski - ‘JMS’ - was very active in (non-fanfic) fan community spaces, and you always knew exactly what he was thinking about things because he was part of the discussion around them. There was also fanfic, which he didn’t stop but didn’t go near on the grounds of legal liability for story ideas. 

Most of the fanfic in the early days as the show was airing was focused around two big ships, of which one was canon endgame (Delenn/Sheridan) and one was canon all-ends-in-despair (Marcus/Ivanova). I, as a teenager discovering a developing online fandom for the first time with all the overwhelm and excitement that causes (ask me anything about what reading fic was like before the days of tags/ratings/warnings!) got into Marcus/Ivanova and also into one of the minor ships, Delenn/Lennier.

Delenn/Lennier was never, ever going to happen in canon. This is obvious; it clashes with Delenn/Sheridan which was JMS’s baby darling OTP, the show’s big love story. Delenn is married for the later part of the show. Lennier is her diplomatic aide, is absolutely devoted to her, and they have a very intense mentor/student relationship, which it seems is kind of standard in their culture (when Delenn’s own mentor died she went briefly insane with grief and started a genocidal war over it) but is still Very Intense. He is canonically in love with her, but that’s as far as the explicit canon statements go.

However. HowEVER. Canon also gives us, for that relationship, some wonderful ship fuel. Lennier knows about every bad thing Delenn has done, including all the stuff she doesn’t/can’t tell her husband. He’s her link to her previous world and culture and stands by her even when they kick her out. She says at one point, “without him, I would stumble and fall and never get up again.” 

And then… we had Season 5, the final season.

Season 5, for various complicated production reasons, was operating a little outside of pre-planned story arcs and in this season the Delenn/Lennier stuff ramped up about three gears in one go. It was still very obviously never, ever going to be canon, and was almost certainly not intended by the creator (who wrote most of the episodes himself) to look like there was even anything there. At this point Delenn is married; any relationship with her aide would not only be going against the show’s OTP, but going against it in the sense where she’s cheating on her husband, and there is Just No Way JMS would have gone there. And yet! Season 5 gave us:

A scene where Lennier says he can’t stay, it’s too painful to be around her now she’s married, and she’s devastated and has the following conversation with her husband about it:

S: I got your message about Lennier. Is there anything I can do?

D [snapping]: Almost certainly not.

S: Is it because of me?

D: In part, I think so.

S: Yeah, I was afraid of that. Well, as we say back on Earth, three’s a crowd.

D: On Minbar, three is sacred.

S [slightly uncomfortable laugh]: Well, I don’t think I’m ready to handle that one, Delenn.

Delenn then calling Lennier back to the station to do some secret mission thing for her, which involves her sneaking out of her bed while her husband sleeps to meet Lennier in a darkened alley behind a bar, where she tenderly strokes his face and they have a whole conversation about whether her husband understands her or not.

A scene where Lennier comes back from his secret mission to meet both Delenn and Sheridan, Delenn goes to greet him with a hug, and Lennier does this very pointed step back and nod in the direction of her husband, and she pulls back and just sort of pats him on the arms instead. 

I MEAN.

But, the issue here is not what fans did about it but what canon did about it. Canon did the canon equivalent of dragging that ship outside and shooting it in the head. 

In the final few episodes of the entire series, Lennier tries to kill Sheridan, runs away in shame, and then someone finds his diary in which he’d been writing for ages about what a bad decision he thought Delenn had made and how her whole marriage was an awful idea. Even to this day, it’s fun/awful watching people go through a first-time watch when they get to season 5 and hit that. ‘Character assassination in the form of a diary’ was a whole thing for a while. It’s been 20+ years and the actor who played Lennier is stilll mad about it (not because of shippy stuff, but because he - correctly! - thinks Lennier absolutely would not have done that). 

What *fandom* did, on the other hand, was Fixed The Problem.

Delenn/Lennier was not at all a big ship when the series was airing, and for a few years after. Then the fandom dynamics started to change. With less pressure on what canon was going to do, it felt like fandom had more space to play around with things it didn’t do. Fanfic got less interested in trying to fit within the overall story being told and started spinning off in all its own directions. And *this* ship started getting bigger and bigger. People did really interesting things with it, canon divergence went in all directions, everyone wrote a fix-it story of some variety, some authors did a great series of connected stories based on an idea that Minbari have three genders, the quality of the writing has been brilliant. And I think without that absolute whiplash feeling of what happened in canon, there would never have been this feeling of “well I’m not having THAT” which led to all this.

We did not need canon! Canon had done its thing. And canon had broken our hearts enough ways with many of the other stories it told (entirely on purpose) and we weren’t just going to sit back and let it ruin us forever.

By comparison, the other ship I was into was Marcus/Ivanova. This is entirely doomed. Susan Ivanova’s love life is just perpetually doomed. The first partner of hers we meet is an ex who’s interested in getting back together, but then it turns out he’s just using her to infiltrate the station for the fascist terrorist group he’s secretly joined. Then she falls for an archrival of hers, Talia, who works for Psi Corps, the organisation she loathes most of all things - but it’s okay because it turns out Talia is starting to question them too! Maybe these crazy kids can make it work! They have one night together and then OOPS turns out Talia was being secretly controlled by a sleeper personality implanted in her by Psi Corps the whole time. Ivanova’s love life is doomed. 

So for two seasons, she has this sort-of-flirty, sort-of-bickery, sort-of-friendship going with Marcus, who is on the surface of it very much “why not fall in love at first sight like a true romantic, YOLO!” but it turns out is actually deeply messed up himself and full of survivor’s guilt and pain and, you get the clear impression, would have died of shock if she’d actually called his bluff on the OTT flirting and said “yeah, let’s go for it”. And then he sacrifices himself to save her life. It is a very tragic ending, it is absolutely the way he would have wanted to go, she wakes up both furious and absolutely distraught, says that the last thing she heard was him saying “I love you”, says she wishes she’d at least slept with him once, and says that in a way all love is unrequited. PAIN. 

So, lots of fix-it fanfic, lots of ‘Marcus comes back to life’, lots of canon divergence AUs where he doesn’t die and they live happily ever after and both get over their huge levels of unresolved pain. Pretty standard for that kind of pairing. And as a pairing it doesn’t get in the way of any big canon pairings, it doesn’t imply anything icky like mentor/student power imbalances or adultery. And JMS clearly quite liked it. So that’s better, right?

NO. It was WORSE.

JMS wrote an Marcus/Ivanova story himself, published in one of the sci-fi magazines, to try to give them a happy ending. This happy ending involves Marcus, many many years in the future, waking up from the cryogenic suspension he’s in (it’s sci-fi, keep up, keep up). Ivanova is long dead, but he isn’t about to let this get in the way, so what he does is to *create a new Ivanova* by getting some kind of DNA + computerised memory/personality bank thing, finding a doctor who will clone her, putting himself back into animated sleep until the clone reaches the age Ivanova was when she died, then - THEN, I’M STILL GOING - takes her to a distant planet where, with her memories wiped and their spaceship having deliberately been crashed BY HIM so there’s no way back, they live out their lives in peace.

WHAT.

That pairing still does okay in fandom but it’s not really taken on a post-show world of headcanons and riffing on other people’s ideas and tropes in the way that Delenn/Lennier has (and we all just pretend that story never existed). 

So! This has been my experiences in the field of What We Do When The Show Has Thoughts On That Non-Endgame Ship We’re Into. Fandom manages. Fandom will see you through. And in the words of Susan Ivanova:

Babylon Five was the last of the Babylon stations; there would never be another. It changed the future, and it changed us. It taught us that we have to create the future, or others will do it for us. It showed us that we have to care for one another, for if we don’t, who will? And that true strength sometimes comes from the most unlikely places. Mostly though, I think it gave us hope that there can always be new beginnings - even for people like us.

#fandom grandma #fandom history #non-endgame ships #shipping #canon and non-canon ships #babylon 5 #delenn x lennier #marcus x ivanova #that story's not canon if I say it's not canon #b5 #what in the actual hell was that diary anyway #snarky bill mumy interview forever in our hearts #never have I seen a more perfect ot3 setup and YET

[shurisluv]

can you write amber x reader plsssss

sure! you didn’t ask for a specific theme but i hope you like this!

I know you’re mad but kiss me in the rain.

fluff and angst.

amber freeman x reader

Amber has been mad at you all week for you ghosting her without an explanation. Well, that was a little exaggeration. You left her on read for most of the day and then disappeared off to god knows where the next morning.

The reason you have been ghosting her is that you needed time for yourself. You had to admit, she was clingy. It wasn’t so much the fact that she would beg every five seconds for cuddles as it was the constant ‘are you coming back or what’s wrong?’ from her. The last thing you wanted to do was to make things worse and upset Amber further than they already were.

It was a Friday morning when you texted her if you could come over. She left you on seen, meaning that she was still mad at you. Of course, Amber never got mad. She was always too forgiving and understanding about everything. This just made you feel even more guilty, because now she was thinking that you had abandoned her again.

You looked at the window and saw rain pouring down outside. Not exactly ideal weather. The forecast called for sunny skies and warm weather throughout the week, but there was a chance that some of these conditions would be canceled out due to the heavy rainfall. You knew that you probably wouldn’t get to spend much time with her, considering how bad your luck had been lately.

Tears started flowing down your cheeks as you sat on the bed. This wasn’t fair, this wasn’t right. All Amber ever did was love you unconditionally. Sure, she might have been a bit overly dramatic, but in any other situation it wouldn’t matter.

You just needed space and you might’ve took it for too long. Now that you finally had enough space, you regretted leaving Amber behind. She deserved better.

You needed to apologize.

So you got dressed and headed out to your car. The rain continued pouring down relentlessly. Your windshield wipers weren’t doing much good here. You drove to Amber’s house in record time, knowing that you may not have another opportunity like this.

The tears were still flowing down your face as you got out of the car. The sky had begun to turn dark grey, which indicated that it wasn’t going to stop raining. You ran up to the door to Amber’s house. You pounded on the door as loudly as possible. There was no answer. You knocked again and tried to open the door.

“Amber please open the door…” you whined, hoping for some sort of response. You heard shuffling inside. “Please let me in… please I need to talk to you…” You waited for a moment but none came.

You slumped down on the porch with your head in your hands. How pathetic could you possibly look right now? Amber was going to hate you. She hated when people broke promises especially ones that you made. You had broken her heart after all.

You cried harder as you heard thunder rumbling in the distance. Rain started pelting down harder, soaking you through to your skin. It felt cold, colder than you expected it to, but you didn’t mind. You deserved this. You deserved to freeze to death while being soaked to the bone by the rain. But you didn’t want to die, not yet anyway. What you really needed was someone who loved you to hold you and tell you that it would be okay. And you didn’t think that someone could be Amber.

She was too forgiving and understanding and kind. She was far too accepting to understand that you couldn’t love her like she loved you.

With all of those thoughts swirling in your head you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. Everything was starting to blur. A small noise pulled you from your slumber.

Was that...?

Your eyes opened as the door unlocked and swung open. Standing in front of you was Amber. She wore only pajama pants and her hair was mussed. Her expression turned into one of surprise when she saw the state you were in. Then confusion washed over her features and she knelt in front of you to help you stand.

“What are you doing out here? Are you alright? Did something happen?”

You got up off of the ground and hugged her tightly. “I’m just really sorry for ghosting you all the time…” Tears spilled down your cheeks and onto Amber’s shoulder.

Amber sighed. “It’s fine. Really. I know it isn’t your fault. I mean, I’m not mad anymore...but I guess I don’t know why you kept doing it.”

“You were too clingy and I just wanted some space.” Your voice cracked as you said that. You pulled away from the embrace to try to wipe the tears off of your cheeks and face. But they just kept streaming down, so you just gave up trying and allowed them to keep falling. They were wetter now though.

“Baby, you should’ve told me…I would have understood.” Amber wrapped her arms around you and held you close, stroking your head gently.

“So you forgive me?” You asked, sounding hopeful.

“Of course. Why shouldn’t I?” She kissed the top of your head and then pulled away slightly to meet your eye contact. You smiled sadly then nodded, allowing tears to fall once again from your eyes.

She leaned in for a kiss and you reciprocated. It was perfect. Perfect for the first time since the breakup, at least. Amber held you until your breathing became easier and steadier. As she broke the kiss, your eyes fluttered shut and you leaned your forehead against hers. Both of you laughed softly as you regained composure.

She suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you guys in the rain together. The water immediately soaked both of your clothes and hair, but neither of you cared. You stayed out in the rain with her, holding each other under the rain, feeling happy and safe and secure in each others embrace.

You didn’t want anything else.

this is my first fanfic I ever wrote on here! feedback would be appreciated!

#amber freeman x y/n #amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber #amber freeman x you #amber freeman x tara carpenter #tamber #request #angst #fluff #rain #scream #scream vi

[mandu-17]

Propose | Kim Yoohyeon x fem! reader

Warnings: kidnapping, manipulation, cursing, mentions of drinking alcohol, brawl

Genre: Angst with a happy ending, a bit of comedy here and there, Mafia AU

Wordcount: ~ 4,175

A/N: i had this written down long time ago tbh and when i heard dreamcatcher’s propose i thought i’d share it with you cause the lyrics kinda matches👀 let me know what you thinkk

You remember very vividly the day your whole life changed. It didn’t feel real, just a few days ago you’d been a normal young woman working at this Italian restaurant as a waitress and then suddenly you found yourself dragged into mafia’s dirty world. A huge misunderstanding. You’d never expect that tall, gorgeous short-haired woman to be a mafia member. You’d never expect Yoohyeon - that was her name - to be spying on you.

When she walked into the restaurant for the very first time and directly asked your colleague for you to get her order, you couldn’t believe it. Despite being shy, you felt beyond happy about an attractive, charming stranger wanting to have an encounter with you out of all other waitresses and waiters. You didn’t question Yoohyeon’s flirting or her curious eyes glued to your figure even while you were serving other customers. It seemed okay, more than that actually. You liked being the centre of her attention.

Yoohyeon visited restaurant few more times, always getting a Margarita from you. She’d take her time drinking it while admiring the surroundings and simply walk away after winking your way. She was generous, tipped you a lot which was another reason why you were so fond of her.

That day, there was an accident, someone drunk barged into restaurant. He kept yelling at one of the customers accusing him of lying and stealing money. His whole face turned red from all the anger, alcohol and emotions he’d been dealing with. You coworker Mark, who was also a waiter, tried to ease their nerves and not cause panic in between other guests. Unfortunately, Mark didn’t manage to take control of the situation.

You froze on the spot watching as one of the men, the drunk one, rushed to punch the other nearly sending him off the chair. That’s when even worse thing happened. The other guy started defending himself with a knife which he sneakily took from the table. Mark quickly jumped, truth be told he’d have no chance against them. It was too risky for him to intervene, so he did the only thing he could - called the police.

All of other guests were running out, as the place was slowly being demolished. It was pure chaos. You felt many people pushing through, not caring about your body. You’d almost fall to the floor as well if it weren’t for someone grabbing your wrist and pulling into themselves forcefully, yet there was a subtle tenderness to it.

“Yoohyeon.” You gasped once your hands landed on her shoulders for some support.

“It’s dangerous here, Y/N. We need to go.” The look in her eyes was so intense that you had to really push yourself in order to glance around. Almost everyone else had ran away. Yohyeon was right. You needed to find a safe place and wait for the police.

With a tight grip on your hand Yoohyeon led you outside. Something about her calm aura and confidence let you feel safe. You began to scan her body, she had great physics. Strong muscles currently covered by suit pants and a white shirt. Her face remained almost neutral, except for the gentle frown on her forehead. It only made her more attractive in your eyes, though.

Outside, you found a bit less crowded space a few meters away from the restaurant’s entrance. While you stayed focused on the situation in front of you, you missed the way Yoohyeon nodded at someone behind you.

“I’m sorry.” She suddenly said quietly.

“For wha-”

~

You woke up in a dark room which kind of reminded of a warehouse. Panic in your eyes, as you glanced around. Did you just get kidnapped?

It didn’t sit right with you.

“Finally.” Your head snapped in the direction of the voice.

“Long time no see, huh?” A tall, dark-haired woman addressed you, a satisfied smirk present on her face.

“What? What is going on? It’s a misunderstanding.”

“Don’t play innocent now, Karla. You really thought you’d get away with everything you’ve done to me?”

Karla? Who the hell was Karla?

“I am not Karla, I swear. You got the wrong person. I’m Y/N.” The woman in front of you laughed at your shaking voice.

“I have to admit, you’ve always been a good actress.” She took slow steps towards you, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “But you won’t fool me again.”

You gulped the second she knelt in front of you to look you straight in the eyes.

“I can prove it. I have no idea who Karla even is. You got the wrong person. Believe me please.”

Woman’s head tilted to the side, that’s when you finally spotted Yoohyeon leaning against the wall. Her hands behind her back, as she watched the scene with that small frown.

“Yoohyeon! What did you do?! You know I’m not Karla!” Your eyes met, but there was no empathy in hers. She stared at you blankly.

“Yoohyeon only fulfilled my order which was to catch you, the hacker.” Woman in front of you held up a picture of... someone very similar. You had to admit she looked just like you although you’d never wear her clothes. Nevertheless, your eyes widened in shock.

“I-I-That’s not me, I swear. She looks almost identical, but really it can’t be me. I’m just a waitress and a student during weekends. Yoohyeon knows it!”

You so badly wanted another girl to take action and agree with you. You thought she was smarter than that. There was no way for you to be involved in mafia’s world.

“Woah, have you already fallen for her? You think she’d like someone like you? Oh, please.”

Angry tears blurred your vision. So that’s why Yoohyeon wanted your attention. She was only fulfilling orders. You understood it when she remained motionless against the wall.

“Yoohyeon.” This time leader’s voice was surprisingly stern, far from amusement she was expressing moments ago. One word was enough for the brunette to immediately approach both of you.

“Yes?” Her cautious eyes focused on the other woman.

“Meet me in my office in ten minutes.”

Yoohyeon nodded as you watched the leader walk away. Apparently, now it was her job to look after you.

“Come on, I’ll show you your room.” Yoohyeon said over her shoulder already on her way out of the room. You hated how empty she sounded like. You hated her current facial expression. Who did she think she was? There was no way she’ll tell you what to do.

“Y/N?” Brunette turned around when she didn’t hear you getting up.

“Fuck you! I’m not going anywhere. You know damn right I have nothing in common with mafia! Why did you do that?! Why did you stay quiet when she was talking to me?” You rose on your feet, angry tears now streaming down your face. Yoohyeon clenched her jaw and quickly approached you while pinning against the nearest wall. You froze in her strong grip, you actually had no chance against her muscular body.

“I am only doing my job, okay? Stop whining and follow me. You’re already causing trouble.” She growled in your ear and you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so scared.

Her eyes were piercing through you with so much anger, Yoohyeon’s body tightly pressed against your own didn’t help either.

You really were at her mercy. She could crash you any second. For a short moment the two of you had a silent, intense battle with your eyes. Then Yoohyeon stepped back and once again told you to follow her. You had no choice. Slowly you dragged your feet behind her tall figure. While passing through different doors and halls you began to wonder how she could be such a good actress.

Just days ago, God - you didn’t even know how long you’d been there for, Yoohyeon was sending you all these winks and smiles. How could you be so naive? How could you let her manipulate you so easily? This new side of Yoohyeon, her true side that you were now following made your stomach sick. You were terrified of what she was truly capable of.

~ About an hour later ~

Sitting on the floor with your back against the wall you were looking around your new room. There had to be a way to escape. Yoohyeon left you there before heading to her leader. She told you to ‘wait and behave’.

How nice of her, you thought sarcastically.

You sighed and curled your legs against your chest. Hunger was slowly getting at you, as well as tiredness. Although there was no way you’d fall asleep in that poorly-arranged place full of old boxes and pallets. The door had a glass in it, but unfortunately it was made out of bullet-proof glass meaning running away through it was close to impossible.

As you kept eyeing the entrance, it suddenly swung open revealing Yoohyeon with a paper bag of what looked like take-out. After closing the door, she knelt down in front of you.

“Hope you like noodles.”

You stared at the bag she put in the middle of your bodies, a frown building on your face.

Wait, what?

She actually sounded kind, too.

“Not hungry.” You turned your head to the side, refusing both her food and conversation. You knew better, they could poison you.

“I know you are, but whatever. It’s not poisoned or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.” Yoohyeon crossed her legs on the floor, her moves remained calm which you took as a good sign. You just had no idea when she’d become aggressive again.

Few seconds of an awkward silence later Yoohyeon spoke again.

“Is it true?” Her voice was really soft, a part of you wanted to believe that she came back to you. “That you’re not Karla and actually have nothing to do with the mafia?”

You met her eyes, aware that Yoohyeon tried to read through you and your emotions - something she was actually very experienced with.

“It is true. I have no idea what’s really going on and this whole situation scares me a lot.” There was a slight crack in your voice. That’s when Yoohyeon’s signature frown came back.

“That mean Karla has doppelgangers. I think that’s the case and you’re simply a victim of hers.” Short-haired nodded to herself, her gaze seemed a bit distant now as she was trying to put pieces together. “Jiu also thinks it could be a mistake that we got you and not her.”

“What does that mean then? Who’s Jiu?” You looked at her, desperately looking for answers. It was about your whole life at this point.

“Jiu’s the leader, she was talking to you earlier. Still, she’s unsure whether or not you’re only acting innocent so we need to wait for her decision.” She shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“Are you kidding me? You’re going to let an innocent person get hurt or even killed because of your leader? Fuck, Yoohyeon! It’s my life on the line here.” This was ridiculous, you just had to raise your voice in frustration.

“Shut up. Yelling won’t fix anything.” One sentence was enough for your eyes to fill with tears again. You hated the woman in front of you, with your whole heart you despised her. “My life’s on the line too, if you weren’t aware. Although, Jiu’d never hurt me. We just have to wait few more days and then we’ll know what’s coming.”

As she finished talking, Yoohyeon gently clapped both her thighs announcing that she was done.

“Eat up.” Her monotonous was back the second she got on her feet.

You couldn’t believe she was real, it was impossible for a human being to be so awful. Eating was now the last thing you could think of.

“You know I’m innocent, right?” Before she left, you asked in a small voice filled with a tiny bit of hope.

Yoohyeon then turned around to analyze your features. Her eyes watched you carefully for what seemed like eternity. She let herself stare at you for a moment longer before finally blinking and gulping. She looked away, you had no idea what was going on in her head.

When she reached out for the doorknob you felt a single tear wetting your right cheek. You were convinced that there was no rescue for you, no escape.

She let out above the whisper, but she knew you could hear her.

“I know.”

~ The next day ~

Despite trying your best to stay awake in a foreign, dangerous place, your eyes fell closed eventually. You were completely worn out and mentally exhausted. There were no windows in the room so you had no idea what time it even was and for how long you were asleep.

It was Jiu who woke you up this time.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” She addressed you noticing your body laying on the cold floor. All your muscles were sore because of how uncomfortable your position was. Anxiously, you looked up at her smirking face. “Come on, we’ll have some fun somewhere else.”

With a gulp, you got onto your shaky legs. You had no choice but to follow her. Like a prisoner.

Few minutes later Jiu told you to take a seat on a wooden chair, as she sat down on the other side of the enormous desk. Interrogation began.

The leader kept showing you pictures, most of them being very graphic, but it was the first time you’d seen them. You had no idea who these people, victims were. Even after asking the same questions over and over again, Jiu didn’t believe you. Both of you felt like going crazy. You wanted to be free again and she didn’t really know what to do. Finally, after sighing tiredly, she took her phone and called someone. Jiu spoke shortly, her tone didn’t leave any room to argue.

When a tall, well-built woman came in, you had a hunch where everything was heading to. Especially since she was carrying a baseball bat. They wanted to torture you.

“Handong, look at these.” Jiu’s words made the woman approach the leader immediately. She stood behind her and was analyzing both pictures and documents on the desk.

That was your chance.

You quickly glanced at the massive door before making a decision. You needed to run away, fast.

As if electrified you jumped out of the chair ignoring Jiu’s mad calls and Handong running after you. There was no looking back, as you paced through the huge warehouse. By taking a few random turns, you managed to lose the woman following you. Luckily you found space with no people in it. The only minus was that you didn’t know where to go and what was truly ahead of you. Which is why you totally didn’t expect a sudden set of stairs leading to the basement.

With a groan, you fell down while probably twisting your left ankle. You had no more power in you, no more energy to run. The pain was too overwhelming. The only thing that came to your mind was hiding, so that no one could see you in that long hall.

You crawled behind a huge plastic box filled with some liquid and hid between it and the wall. If someone was using the stairs, they wouldn’t see you.

Then, all of the sudden, you heard two pairs of steps nearing. One from the above, running and another from down the hall - steady and slow.

“Hey! Have you seen that Karla girl?” This had to be Handong on top of the stairs, but who wsa she talking to?

“No, but try in the garage. I heard someone running there.” Yoohyeon.

Your eyes widened and you did everything you could not to make a sound. While holding your breath, you heard Handong running again in a different direction. You were praying that Yoohyeon would also go somewhere else and not notice you.

You remained quiet, just when you thought she was walking away, her face came into your view as she crouched beside you. In shock, you almost yelped but quickly covered your mouth with your hand. Short-haired was watching you with that unreadable expression before smiling amused.

“Watch out for the stairs next time, will you?”

So she knew it was you, but still told Handong to go somewhere else?

“What? Did you just keep me covered?” You couldn’t believe it.

“I know what I’m doing, okay?” Yoohyeon looked at you expecting an affirmation, one of her eyebrows raised. Simply, you nodded not trusting your own voice anymore. “Let’s go, I’ll bring you back to your room.”

It was very weird. Why would she do that when you were in the middle of talking to Jiu? Shouldn’t she bring you back to her leader?

Confused, you got up but was reminded of your injured leg. Yoohyeon saw you flinching with every step you took, but the moment she opened her mouth you protested.

“I’m fine.” Stubbornly, you followed her.

In response, Yoohyeon rolled her eyes and after two more meters of you still not catching up, she turned around. Wordlessly, she closed the distance between you two and lifted you in her arms. You were beyond speechless when she readjusted your body, making you wrap your arms around her neck in a hurry in order not to fall. She held you in a bridal carry method. Her grip really strong, she didn’t even look like she was struggling with all your weight on her.

“Why are you doing this?” You used the opportunity to study her face. Neutral and bored almost as always. That’s what made her so unpredictable. You never knew what she was thinking.

“Why are you so stubborn?” She asked back.

This time, you rolled your eyes.

You chose to stay quiet for the rest of the way. Truth be told, you kind of felt okay with Yoohyeon holding you like that. Almost safe. You enjoyed the leather material of her jacket and the feeling of her hair brushing against your hand as it bounced along with her steps.

Her smell was also nice, strong yet comforting. Finally, you couldn’t help but stare at her lips. They were so close, barely a breath away. Yoohyeon’s whole body was very warm. The contrast to the air and atmosphere around you.

With a deep sigh you hated to admit it, but you liked being this close to her. You wished you could stay like this for a long time.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Yoohyeon smirked at you, noticing how you were constantly ogling her.

“Very funny.” Your response was quiet and filled with sarcasm as your eyes narrowed in annoyance.

Since she didn’t appreciate your staring and teased you about it you rested your head against her shoulder, almost in the crock of her neck. Your breaths must have tickled her skin as goosebumps slowly appeared. You felt yourself smiling gently.

“You can get off now, you know.” Once again her voice was full of amusement. She just loved making fun of you, didn’t she? Although, you had no idea when you even managed to enter your room.

“Right.” Mumbling, you got on your own feet with a pained expression when your left leg hit the floor. Yoohyeon’s hand stayed on your waist in case you couldn’t find balance, for that you were grateful.

“Let me see it.” She helped you slowly sit down and examined your ankle. You gasped when she turned it in her hand a bit too fast. Nevertheless, her touches were gentle, it didn’t seem like she wanted to hurt you. She even apologized for grasping your leg too hard.

“It’s twisted, I’ll get some bandage. Don’t move it too much, okay?”

It’s not like you physically could.

Moments later, Yoohyeon came back with a bandage and a weird smile playing on her lips.

“What’s so funny?” You frowned when she began to wrap your ankle without a word. She was very delicate while helping you.

“Jiu and Handong are still looking for you.”

Are they dumb? Or is Yoohyeon the insane one?

After all, she’s incredibly brave to go behind her leader’s back like that.

“Are they going to hurt me for running away?” Fear present in your voice as you whispered.

“I’ll take care of it.” Yoohyeon said seriously, your eyes met briefly. It was her way of confirming and keeping her promise. Eye contact.

“I see you haven’t eaten yet?” With a glance at the unopened take-out bag, she finished wrapping your your leg. It felt slightly better already. “What food do you like then? Rice, chicken, pizza?”

“Pad Thai’s fine.”

“We’ll go once it’s all over.” Yoohyeon nodded while standing up.

“Are you asking me on a date?” You blurted out of blue. You had every right to be confused. With Yoohyeon nothing was certain.

“That’s for me to know and for you to...” With a light shrug, she turned around and left.

You shook your head and leaned against the wall. What world was she living in?

That was an excellent question.

~

Later that day Jiu visited you for the second time. She seemed to lack some of determination she’d had earlier.

“Yoohyeon twisted your ankle?” Was the first thing she said. Her eyebrows raised in disbelief, she looked comical almost.

You opened your mouth to protest, but were fast enough to catch up on what was going on.

“Yes.” You kept your head low in order not to give yourself away.

“That’s a bit weird of her.” Jiu admitted out loud before remembering what she came for in the first place. “Listen, Y/N.”

It was the first time she used your real name. Did she understand that you were not the one she was looking for?

“You’re in danger now. Karla changed her appearance on purpose so she has people who look like her. Which means that you can be targeted by many people.” You looked up to meet Jiu’s eyes. Her face was serious, but since she was warning you like this, it meant that she’ll let you go, right?

“However, just as much as you’re in danger- you’re also lucky.” Jiu sighed upon seeing your lost expression. “You’re lucky Yoohyeon likes you. She won’t let anybody hurt you.”

Now it all made no sense. It was ridiculous for the leader to even be saying such things.

“But she twisted my ankle.” Unsure, you argued causing dark-haired woman to chuckle.

“She lied straight in my face about twisting your leg. I saw how you fell down the stairs on cameras and Yoohyeon still chose to lie about you. You’ll be safe with her.” Something on Jiu’s face changed. Now, she looked like she was having a conversation with a friends or something. Almost like she was giving advises to someone close to her.

Your tongue was tied. You had so many things to ask her, yet you didn’t know where to start.

“A-Aren’t you mad?”

“At her or at you?” Catching you off guard, Jiu sat down next to you.

“Both?” You honestly felt like everyone there was making an idiot out of you.

“I’ve known Yoohyeon since I can remember. I can tell right away when she’s lying or when she likes someone. It’s the first time she behaved like that, though. She’s never tried to protect someone so much.” You looked down feeling your cheeks warm up. “I’m not mad at her for that. I want her to be happy. I’m also not mad at you. Just frustrated, but nothing about it is your fault.”

You nodded acknowledging, but also appreciating her calm voice. Jiu seemed alright.

Now, you were feeling both excited and very nervous about meeting Yoohyeon again.

You had a lot to talk about.

~

While admiring the first sunset in the last few days you were waiting for Yoohyeon at the back of the old warehouse. Handong was the one who walked you outside. She helped you with the ankle and told you to wait few more minutes for the short-haired.

The second you heard steps coming your way, you turned around. Yoohyeon’s hair was bouncing as she walked towards you, her hands hidden in the pockets of her jacket.

“You up for some Pad Thai?” She asked with that damn smile.

After a nice evening out, she walked you home or more accurately carried on her back. Her strong hands were holding your thighs. Your arms were hugging her neck and you let your body press against her back fully.

“I like your perfume.” You shyly said.

It was now completely dark outside, but you weren’t afraid. Yoohyeon wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You knew that now.

“Thanks, it’s Gucci.” She giggled randomly making you laugh as well. You felt every vibration of hers. Every breath she took.

You wanted to stay close to her forever.

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop girl groups #girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop gg #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher imagines #dreamcatcher scenario #dreamcatcher scenarios #dreamcatcher x reader #dreamcatcher yoohyeon #dreamcatcher imagine #yoohyeon scenarios #yoohyeon #kim yoohyeon #yoohyeon x reader #yoohyeon imagines #mafia au #alternative universe #jiu #kim minji #handong #angst #dreamcatcher angst #kpop angst #female reader

[the-dawn-star]

I am now invested with yandere alec with a cinnamon roll reader so I have some request for you! Maybe when her stuffies finally come in through mail or something she is so excited and she starts introducing alec to all her stuffy which have names!!!! She can also paint alec so pictures when he's gone and he comes back while she is asleep and sees them then she wakes up and freaks out cause they were supposed to be a gift. Maybe the Romanians come and steal her and he finds her all hurt I need some more possessive/protective alec in my life! Thank you for listening hope you have a lovley week!

A/N: Hi! I'm so sorry that this took so long. My school ended and I was stressed and in general not feeling well mentally. Again, This is movie Alec, not the 11-year-old book Alec!!!

-S

+500ish words.

TW: posessiveness, not good stuff, a bit of talk about bruises, and again this is not okay!!!

You had waited for this day for weeks. Finally, a massive box from Forks came to your and Alec’s room.  

Alec was somewhere in the castle working so you had at least a few hours before Alec would get back to your room.  

You opened the box and started to pick each one of them up with care and put them down to your bed into a straight line.  

When Alec got back to your room, he was shocked with the fact that most of the bed was covered in stuffies.  

“Oh! You are back, that’s great, my stuffies came and I wanted to introduce you to them.”  

You took Alec’s hand and pulled him to the bed, starting to name all the stuffies, telling a full-on story about each stuffed animal’s past and wishes.  

At the end Alec remembered one or two names and was so tired with it all that he would go to sleep if he could.  

Alec had to beg you to put some of the stuffies to the ground so you would have enough space to sleep (also he needs the space so he can cuddle with you while you are falling asleep). 

At the end you and Alec were cuddled into a small corner of the bed while Alec was spooning you from behind and you were holding your favorite stuffed animal.  

~~~ 

Alec had gone on a mission with some other guards.  

And of course, you were bored. So bored that you started to doodle. And you doodled some more and more and more until you fell asleep mostly covered by stuffies. 

You woke up the next morning feeling cold arms around you.  

“Hi.” You said, turning around to face your boyfriend.  

“Hey..., why didn’t you tell me you were so good at drawing?” Alec wanted his words to be encouraging but instead you jumped out of the bed and ran to your desk covered in your doodles.  

“You looked at them?!” You asked, clearly freaked out.  

“I mean, you didn’t really hide them, did you.” Alec responded and got up from the bed.  

“Yeah, but you weren’t supposed to come home today!”  

You bickered to each other for the next 20 minutes until Alec apologized and kissed your cheek. (The man apologizes first every single time you fight.) 

~~~ 

 You were taken by the Romanians. 

You weren’t sure what the reason was, but you knew that this wouldn’t end well for them if Alec was the one to decide that.  

Your lip was bleeding, and you had some minor bruising but overall you were doing okay.  

Outside the room you were kept in started to rattle. And with every second it got closer and closer to your holding place.  

Your stay hadn’t been the worst, actually the Romanians were mostly really funny, if not a bit blood thirsty.  

Alec basically ran into your room. You stood up and Alec walked to you scanning your body for anything acute.  

“Did they hurt you?” Alec asked, pulling you to a gentle hug.  

“No, they weren’t too bad,” you said with a smile on your face.  

“Good, but don’t think that you will be leaving the castle ever again, actually forget that you aren’t leaving our room ever again...” Alec’s eyes were raven black and without a question he picked you up into his arms.  

#the volturi x reader #the volturi coven #the volturi guard #the volturi #the twilight renaissance #the twilight series #the twilight saga #alec volturi x you #alec x reader #alec volturi x reader #alec volturi #yandere hcs #yandere twilight

[vldsideblog]

A Keith blurb

Warnings for: Keith’s shitty childhood, naxzela and everything that happend then. And probably other stuff lemme know if I missed anything

Keith had a nasty habit of throwing himself into all situations head first without a second thought.

As a child he’d run back into his burning home to retrieve his knife, nearly giving his poor pop a heart attack. His dad held him by the shoulders as they waited for the fire department and begged him with tears in his eyes to never be so reckless with his own life again. But Keith had never been good at listening to reason.

His pop had repeated the message countless times over the years. When he climbed the tallest tree he could find and broke an arm falling from it, when he got chased by a rattlesnake after getting too close to it’s nest, when he played outside all day in the burning summer sun and got heatstroke.

And then one day it appeared his pop didn’t take his own advice either. And Keith was alone.

At first he’d tried to be good he really had, but the grief and the anger and the resentment began to weigh on him. Everyday it felt as if he was dragging a mountain behind him, and at some point he couldn’t take it anymore.

If a schoolmate’s teasing became too much he would lash out, fists always ready for a fight. If another kid at the group home stole something of his he would bite and kick and take it back. He ran away more times than he could count, reaching desperately for a better life, where he mattered, where he was more than a bad kid, where he wasn’t in pain.

Keith stole food when he was denied meals at the homes, he took up graffiti as a way to express his anger, the first time he ended up in the back of a cop car he realized how far he’d strayed from his pop’s advice. He never expected things to get any better.

Then something changed.

Someone gave him a chance to be more than a delinquent.

And Keith didn’t know how to feel about that. But he figured what else do I have going for me?

And eventually life got better. He found people who cared, folks he considered not only friends but family as well. He discovered better coping mechanisms and let himself enjoy his interests and hobbies. He no longer lived in survival mode constantly.

Sure Keith had bad days, when memories haunted him, when he couldn’t stand being around other people. He was still reckless and got into fights, but it was more rare. Life was better.

Then Shiro disappeared, and Matt was gone, and Adam was grieving. He let his temper get the best of him and he fled to the desert. The worst part was he wasn’t sure if he regretted his recklessness. The vindication might have been worth it.

And everything was empty. And time blurred. And Keith was alone again. It was almost like nothing had changed at all. Like it had been a crazy dream. He’d never left the desert.

Then Keith was in space fighting for the freedom of the known and unknown universe, and Shiro was back but he was different. He was haunted, and he wished Shiro didn’t have to experience nightmares like he did. But he did and Keith stuck by his side like the loyal brother he was. He accepted his duty as a defender easier than the others, if not for the fact that he’d always been a fighter. This time he just wasn’t protecting himself.

Then his entire world had flipped upside down, but in a completely different way than he had become accustomed to.

Keith was galra. Keith was the enemy. Keith was a monster.

He’d suspected as much, he’d always been strange to say the least. Keith couldn’t even begin to count the number of times he realized he was different. That his teeth were sharper, the dark was much of a hindrance, he could smell things others couldn’t.

But he didn’t think he’d ever get an answer, especially not one like this.

Things were tense for a while, but he was reassured that he was part of the team and nothing would change that. But over time he started to believe that less and less.

And then Naxzela happened. And Keith almost died for the cause. He was ready to follow his pop into the flames and become one with the ashes. He’d pulled the trigger and everything, it was a complete coincidence that he even survived.

And his hands were shaking on the controls. And he couldn’t breathe. His eyes were streaming, and he could barely hear someone calling his name through the radio.

Keith had always been reckless.

#vld #keith kogane #voltron #voltron legendary defender #keith voltron #keith headcanon #broganes #autistic keith #texas kogane #galra keith #fic drabble #self sacrifice #Naxzela #angst #keith angst #character introspection #I’m feeling angsty about Keith again #feel free to scream at me for this