#it made me write sksksk

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I am a new reader of your blog, and that is something I want to know (but it's totally okay if you want to ignore this ask!) why you stopped liking [with you]? Is there something in particular that bothered you about this fic?

That... is a question with a loaded answer.

The quick answer is:

I put way too much pressure on myself with [with you] that caused terrible burnout and I couldn't do any creative writing for a long time after; a small portion of my readers were pretty hostile about slow updates; there were criticisms about the story that I had a hard time with; and there are a lot of story beats and writing decisions I made with it that I'm very critical of. All of those things combined, I now have a lot of negative feelings associated with [with you].

The not-so-quick answer involves a lot of self-criticism about my prose, poor choices, the criticisms by my readers, and some behind the scenes stuff. I'll put all that under a "keep reading" for anyone interested in more detail.

When I started [with you], it wasn't meant to be a 50k+ story, it was just going to be a simpler story told in a couple parts... that I then kept expanding. I'm pretty sure every note I have on the original version posted on here starts with, "hey y'all, this story is this many parts now whoops haha"

I had very little planned out, I was just discovery writing my way through everything. I wrote a chapter, read through it a couple times, said, "yeah that's good enough," then posted. Y'know, like what a lot of people who write fics do. "no beta, we die like Ben falling down the bell tower" and all that.

I had ideas of where I wanted to go, but I didn't start an outline until I was well into the story. It was bloated. I felt like I needed to add every single idea I had, and needed to expand on every character, even if it didn't do anything to advance or enhance the story... and that became overwhelming for me to keep track of since I wanted it to all tie together in the end and please my readers.

When I read through it now, there is so much that can be cut that no one would miss. It would flow better and be easier to read.

My prose [the actual writing style] is all over the place and reads like a first draft, especially in earlier chapters. Spelling errors, run-on sentences, whole paragraphs that I should've cut. While I feel better about my dialogue, there are some conversations that read as awkward.

Honestly, the best part of the entire fic is Clementine and Louis' story, which... yeah. I'm pretty happy with the way I portrayed their dynamic, dialogue, and romance. I just wish I hadn't bogged it all down with everything else, like... that's all it needed to be, it just needed to be about clouis.

Oh, and I still like the dream sequence. That's probably one of the better chapters, if not the best chapter.

Now, when I say I made bad choices with this story, one of those choices I'm referring to is my "big rewrite." This was incredibly stupid. Past CJ thought it was a good idea but she's a dumb ass. You can't listen to anything she says.

Basically, I got the brilliant idea that I would take [with you] down and rewrite the whole thing before I wrote the final chapters. I wasn't satisfied with how it was written. I felt I could do so much better. I was going to trim unnecessary fat, expand on important details, make some heavy changes, improve everything, and then repost it with the ending.... so I deleted it off AO3 and got to work.

Terrible idea. Don't ask me why. What I should've done was discontinued that version, made a note that it was old, and then published the new version separately. But I didn't. And a lot of people were pissed at me. Shocking.

I should've just finished it. I should've finished it, posted it, and then went from there. But I didn't. Ever since then I've gotten a lot of readers who would go on anon and send me messages about [with you] that are passive aggressive or guilt trippy. That soured my feelings about the story and myself as a writer tremendously.

Then there's Violet.

I wrote the first few chapters before Ep4 of TFS was released, meaning I wrote Violet before we found out that she's blinded in the explosion in her kidnapped route. I took the "Violet despises you" route, and a big plot point of the story is Violet dealing with all these conflicting feelings about Clementine, hating her but also not, distancing herself from the group, the strain it put on her and Louis' friendship, etc.

I don't like how I portrayed Violet for a number of reasons. I know what I was trying to do, and I knew I couldn't [or wouldn't] scrap everything I already wrote about her and rewrite in a blind Violet on friendly terms with Clementine... because sure, I wanted to do this grand rewrite that sounded easy enough on paper, but in practice that was so much work that intimidated me.

Because behind the scenes fun- for the rewrite, I wanted to do that. That was a major change that would've cut so much from the story I wasn't happy with, and would've been a more positive portrayal of the character. But then I saw just how much would be cut and how much I'd have to write and it scared me off from the idea... so I tried to work with what I had and I still hate it.

Violet's very antagonistic in the story. She attacked Clementine after the boat explosion. Everyone thinks she'll attack her again. Mitch calls her a traitorous bitch and doesn't trust her to not stab Clementine in a conversation. There's even a point where it's mentioned that in the past she slapped Louis during a conversation. She just has a pissy attitude throughout the story but then berates herself for it and I just... I was going for a slow burn recovery that explores her trauma and ends with her reconciling with Clementine... but it doesn't come off that way? Some parts I think I executed better than others but most of it I look back at and say, "...No, past CJ, that doesn't read like you think it does...."

But that wasn't my only criticism I got about the way I wrote Violet, and this one is... a little complicated? And something most probably wouldn't take issue with or even notice unless you're a major Violet stan... but I pretty much gave Mitch [a character I loved at the time] a lot of Violet's canon character points and explored them more positively, then turned around and made Violet more antagonistic, which......yeeeeeah.

The only defense I have for this is it wasn't intentional. It really wasn't, but I understand and think it's a valid complaint. Like... I used to get these anons who would tell me this and I'd quietly delete them because, "...nope, not touching that. If I don't acknowledge it, it doesn't exist."

Lemme explain: In my fics, Mitch is gay. He had feelings for his best friend and roommate, Justin, before he died to walkers, and Mitch hasn't trusted "gross feelings" ever since... until James shows up and Mitch has to face the fact that he has romantic feelings for him while not being completely over Justin...

...y'know, totally different from Violet who is gay, had feelings for Minerva before she "died," and hasn't trusted mushy feelings ever since... until Clementine shows up and Violet has to face the fact that she has romantic feelings for her while not being completely over Minerva....

It's surface level stuff since they are written differently, and it's not like you're not allowed to have more than one character with character beats like that, but it's enough of a similarity that I get why it would rub Violet lovers the wrong way. Especially since nothing about that is canon with Mitch's character, y'know? It's the character I gave him.

I don't think it was coming from the Violet crowd [the aggressively obnoxious fans no one likes], I think it came from people who were genuinely bummed or put off by my more antagonistic portrayal of her, only to see similar traits portrayed positively with Mitch.

And that bothers me. I do like the way I wrote Mitch, but I hate the way I wrote Violet. It's made me step back and analyze why I wrote them the way I did, y'know?

But the BIGGEST criticism from readers I've gotten?

[with you] is unfinished.... valid, but there isn't anything I can add that. Sorry y'all, it's discontinued, I'm never going to finish it.

The best I can give you is what I planned: a big wedding scene where Clementine and Louis exchanged vows and kissed. Violet showed up and made amends with Clementine. Clementine talked Mitch into dancing with her even though he hates dancing. Aasim tried to ask Ruby to dance, panicked, and asked Mitch instead who was like "...Fuck no, RUBY COME DANCE WITH AASIM!" Louis and Clementine left early to head back to their room and it probably would've ended with some sappy line about being together to the end.

So... there ya go? It's not a final chapter but that's the gist of what would've happened.

But moving on, I was also going through a lot of things in my personal life that I won't get into. I was working on other writing projects that I had more interest in, so [with you] was put on the backburner. Then, over time I grew more sour about it the more pressure and guilt I put on myself, added with the pressure and guilt put on by my readers.

I do want to clarify that it's not like ALL of my readers were like this. Most of them were sweet, supportive followers who only had nice things to say. But you know how it is... you could get ten comments/asks, nine of them positive and one negative, and it's the negative one that's going to stick to you.

So, to my lovely readers, I am sorry that I let you down by not finishing it. To the rude readers, I'm less sorry because y'all were dicks.

Y'know... I can look at all of my other works and either be like "Yeah, I'm really proud of that story," or "Eh, it was one of my earlier works, so I can't be too hard on it."

But [with you] puts me in a crisis of "oh god I'm a fraud, I was never a good writer, what am I doing??? why?? why are you like this??"

and I have to snap myself out of it. That's why I'm so like this about it now.

There are other little things I could go into, but this answer is long enough. I figure if anyone has any further questions or criticisms, they'll send 'em in and I can answer them that way.

I've moved on from all my twdg writing, I'm writing dragon age stuff now, and it's finally working for me so it's not like [with you] has me all hung up still. Plus, I think it's good to go back and learn from mistakes made in old works, y'know?

#asks #[with you] #twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg violet #twdg mitch #twdg ruby #twdg aasim #twdg james #i have a lot of feelings about my old writings and trying to not repeat mistakes sksksks #because hhhnnnggggg... i made mistakes #but it's fine #it's fine i am different now and current cj has improved.... she said through gritted teeth #no but really i'm doing so much more writing these days and it's actually *fun* again... writing hasn't been fun for a long time #and writing da fic is like... a totally different experience? because it's a very different world/fandom than twdg... obviously sksks #plus i'm just a lurker in the shadows of the fandom and i haven't posted any writing yet so there are zero eyes on me #there was a point where i felt like stagnant with twdg? like i wanted to branch out and write different kinds of fics but was too worried #about my readers and followers judging me for it or that no one would want to read it because it wasn't tfs stuff #like.... ugh do i dare share this? ....it's in the tags and no one reads those so i'm sure this is a safe place for confession... sksks #i entertained the idea of writing a long fic about david and lilly meeting and joining the delta together #that would've dealt with much heavier mature themes than any of my tfs stuff did #...don't look at me like that okay I KNOW sksksk livid was a huge meme on this blog and behind the scenes i was like #'...wait what if though??' and never did it because i *know* how it would've been received and frankly i didn't wanna deal with that #plus i had so much other shit to write and [with you] constantly on the back burner screaming at me sooooo.... yeah #but anyway... i'll stop venting in the tags and thank anon for the ask and for reading my stuff #despite my hang ups with it i do truly appreciate you for reading my work and hope my answer makes sense

[pinky-in-blankets]

《 I AM COOKING EHEHEHEHE 》

#{ pinky screeches; occ } #(( i may be a little bit TOO into this storyline of tadc sidequests. )) #(( but Gosh If it didnt reignite my will to write )) #(( this is so much fun )) #(( tbh i am really doing this for three people. )) #(( Mainly me but the two other people who made the au's )) #(( iLY /platonic )) #(( hope yall enjoy the food sksksks )) #tadc sidequests

[jessamine-rose]

It is Day 1 since I stopped playing Obey Me! :’>

#aaahh this feels weird #if you previously read my vent post. then aahh the decision has been made #we shall see if this is a permanent departure or just a brief hiatus like with twst #ndidsbsjsnsis it’s just sad that i have to say goodbye to a game which previously gave me so much serotonin and laughs #on top of a nice routine during the pandemic #i still love the characters and will continue to enjoy their fan content #i just wish that solmare made better use of them and their stories #funnily enough. i do have a demon! simmy fic in my drafts which gained more bullet points after s4 so #who knows?? maybe i’ll write for that fandom again #god this feels breaking up with eleven men + giving away custody of one child sksksk #aahh anyway i shall utilize the free time which was once occupied by obm and nightbringet #no more gacha burnout at least #lezgoooooo #jessamine rambles

[picnokinesis]

Taka I loved the latest Zombie chapter so much, could I please ask for more thoughts on Theo’s gender?? I just love your characters’ genders sm :D

Ahh thank you!! I'm so glad you enjoyed it!!

There is actually going to be more on Theo's gender in later chapters, but essentially - she's transfemme and realised this whilst at university. She wouldn't describe herself as a binary trans woman, but she's definitely closer to 'woman' than 'man' and so if she had to pick between one or the other, she'd pick woman (which she did). Her gender is actually a bit complicated and nebulous, but she's happy with everyone outwardly reading her as a woman. I don't thiiiink she identifies specifically as anything other than 'transfemme', but you could probably argue that she's genderqueer - that said, I'm not one to put labels on someone who doesn't want it and Theo is slippery in that regard hahaha - but that's why she chose to go by Theo, because she liked the idea of being seen as a boyish girl much much more than a girlish boy. Theo is not her deadname. Theodore isn't even her deadname. I know exactly what her deadname is but it's so irrelevant that it'll never be spoken haha

She's physically transitioned, and also done voice work so she actually passes very well for the most part, partly because she was fortunate enough to be pretty slight anyway and also there are certain affects of estradiol that don't like. go away when you stop taking it HAHA which is very fortunate for her since she does not have access to that anymore (thanks zombie apocalypse). You'll notice in all of her flash memories that she always uses 'she/her' and 'theo' to describe herself - however, obviously there are a small handful memories where she actually hadn't transitioned or even come out at all at the time when the memory happened. But even though she didn't always know, she has always been theo and she/her - and so she retroactively corrects her own thoughts or perception of herself in her memories. If someone else calls her 'Theo' in a memory, though, that's accurate to what happened, which means it's after she came out. I'm trying to think, now...I think there are only two memories from before she came out? One is the one in the latest chapter (the 'how about girlfriend material?' one sksksk, which is honestly probably my favourite memory in the ENTIRE fic) and then another in the next chapter which I also love to pieces because it makes me chuckle. But by the time Theo started working at Gallifrey Labs, she'd already fully transitioned (or, at least, was well on the way - look, I'm just going to pretend that the UK transitioning waiting lists aren't years long in my silly doctor who fanfic, we've gotta make SOME things better to make up for the literal zombies yknow)

#taka replies #zombie au #gender #love this one YES #it was REALLY FUN to write a transfemme character for once! #a lot of her gender is inspired by conversations i've had with my friend who is also transfemme #but i also lurked on forums ksksks which was really interesting #the most fun thing is - theo is not the only trans person in this fic #but sksksk i doubt anyone will guess who the other one is because it took ME by surprise when it came up #but it also made the best kind of sense hahaha #praxeus-13

[elliesmainhoe]

i actually need military! ellie surprising her wife at home i woudl die sksksk

sorry this is so randkm😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫

Miss me sugar?

Military!Ellie X Reader imagine

Summary: After three months of deployment, Ellie returns home.

Contents: fluff, southern!Ellie, mentions of nudes, kisses, Ellie picks you up, a little bit of suggestive language, pet name use 'Doll and sugar',

It was the first deployment you and Ellie had went through as a couple, and god it was torturous. You missed her desperately, her beautiful freckled face and gorgeous laugh, you both sent letters to eachother, you to her more often than not.

It saddened you to hear from her so little, but you understood why, she was deployed in a country recovering from war- writing a letter to you wouldn't be her main priority, but you still felt a small warmth of comfort whenever you sent her a letter.

Unbeknownst to you- a warmth of happiness also comforted Ellie by your letters. The contents was always a a4 piece of paper, your handwriting scribbled on both sides tucked and folded into a white paper envelope along with two polaroids.

One of them was you sitting on the sandy beach that was located near your home, wearing your favourite summer dress and straw sun hat- wind in your hair as it blew behind you . The other was a selfie, you laying on your shared bed, makeup all messy and hair sprawled out on the pillow behind you- smudged eyeliner and glossy red lips, you wore a white spaghetti strapped vest, hard nipples pressing through the material.

Lets just say you helped with keeping her entertained during those long nights laying wide awake on the bottom bunk on one of the many bunk beds that were pushed up against the side of the white washed concrete wall in the shared.

She had missed you so much, her heart throbbed every time she looked upon that pretty Polaroid and the letter you sent her every three weeks. When she got the call that she could return home a month earlier than what was planned, she was ecstatic- finding it hard not to schedule a phone call home, announcing the good news.

But another idea nibbled at her, she'd seen those cute videos of soldiers surprising their wives by coming home early. The idea of seeing your suprise face, soft lips parted in suprise and eyes wide as you wrapped your arms around her neck for the first time in so long made her brain melt.

Well.... Fuck it.

•••••••••••

The soft chirps of twittering birds echoed throughout the otherwise silent suburban neighborhood, a soft breeze fluttering past her hair as she opened the door of her Uber Infront of the blue home that you and Ellie owned.

She thanked the driver, lugging out the black suitcase and slung the grey duffle bag over her shoulder as her boot clad feet began trailing up the stone path leading up to the porch, soft sun shining through the doors stained glass window, casting a colorful glow on the warm wooded floor of your hallway.

You were brushing your teeth when the sound of the doorbell rang through your house, you spat out the toothpaste, wiping your mouth before signing as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Pink stripped pyjama set, hair tied-up, out of the way and messy, your eyes still half closed, well you don't really think that looking good for the Amazon man is that important.

Fluffy socks met the carpeted staircase as you walked down yelling a small "Coming!" So whoever was at the door didn't leave, assuming the house vacant.

Your hand met the cold metal of the door handle, pushing down and pulling towards you. Your heart stopped. Your heartbeat loud in your ears, as you gazed at the brunette- eyes glassed over.

"Ells...? Is that really you...?" You whimpered, followed by a small sniffle.

"Hi sugar..."

Before you knew it, your arms wrapped themselves securely round her neck, squeezing tightly as her arms wrapped around your waist in return.

"Missed me?" She laughed into your hair.

"so... So much"

You looked up, your own eyes locking with her green ones, she pressed her lips against yours, tongues dancing with eachother- your hand moving from her neck to cup her cheek tenderly, massaging the supple skin in a circular motion.

"Think we should take this upstairs doll?.." she smirked suggestively, mouth mere centimeters away from yours-

You could only nod in reply.

--------------------

This is really short and kinda rushed </33, but it's so cute 🫶

Taglist: @aunslie @lonelyfooryouonly @eywaskisses @daryldixonh0e @kittynnie @lovelyyevelyn @randomhoex @moonlightdivine @haerinwho @mufflaa @mial1l @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @moonlighting87 @escaping-reality8 @magicalfreakcowboylawyer @hejdevkdbdjsd @dergy @half-of-a-gay @ellieismami @cyberlainn @gollumsmygel @sseorii @kyleeservopoulos @taloulalila @ellieluhme @kiiyoooo @delusionalvioleht @joelscharm @hi2647 @gumdropkoo @coffeeandbookskeepmealive @womaniza @namgification @kimiisims-blog @tayyyystan @abigaillovestoread @whoreshores @kylieeluvstlou @knowitsforthebetterr @endureher @erikaar @lanasluverr @sayah13 @ilovebufflesbians @srryhoneyy @222fine444u @jade1212 @amoebagrl @casually-simping @frogtits1

NOT PROOFREAD

#ellie williams #lesbian #the last of us #wlw #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #lesbian fic #ellie x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie the last of us #ellie #ellie x fem reader #military!ellie #military wife!reader #soldier!ellie #tlou fic #the last of us fic #tlou #ellie williams imagine #ellie imagine #ellie x you #ellie x wife!reader #the last of us part 2 #hbo tlou #ellie williams hbo #tlou hbo #ellie headcanons #southern!ellie

[chelseeebe]

the luck you hold

this is very simply a rehash of fiona and jimmy/steve from shameless sksksks, especially steve’s occupation and readers family life lol. it is also essentially just smut- but i am interested in writing this dynamic further bc it’s so fun!

18+. mdni. smut, like really just smut. steve is a baddd boy but it’s so sexy so who cares.

✧ ✦ ✧

the club is loud, strobe lights flickering onto the crowd of moving people.

steve hadn’t even wanted to come tonight, much favouring his bed. it had been a shit day already, made worse by the thumping music filling the room.

his eyes wander the crowd, detesting the fact that everyone seemed so ecstatic to be here.

and then, he spots you. perfectly illuminated by the purple light. hips moving in time to the beat, clearly unbothered by the drunken stupor of the people surrounding you.

you’ve got something to prove, swaying to the music, dress riding up your thighs. there’s a message there, steve thinks, you’re trying to tell everyone or maybe, someone, that you don’t care.

he has to know. leaving the comfort of the balcony to descend on the crowd, eagle eyed for the girl in the black dress.

something takes over, wrestling his way through the hoards of people until he spots you, still wriggling your hips, away in your own world. somebody elbows him in the ribs, earning a quick glare before continuing his mission.

steve typically carries himself with much more composure, he wouldn’t dare to do this on any other night but his hand finds your waist, pressing his body to your back. moving to your rhythm.

you’re not bothered, still moving along to the music, steve’s not even sure that you know he’s there until an arm snakes around his neck, fingers knotting in his hair.

he takes that as a sign to move closer, pressing against your ass, almost howling into your ear when you grind against him.

his breath is strained, he wants to kiss you, hoping you’ll spin around and feel the same.

it’s only when the song changes that you do, stood in such close proximity that he can see the smudged eyeliner lining your eyes and the tiny curve of your lips. you’re studying him, examining his face but for only a moment.

and then your arms snake round his neck, keeping your chests to one another. as he leans in, your finger comes to press against his lips, not allowing him to kiss you. he scowls, throat rumbling in protest.

“what’s your name?” you say, just loud enough for him to hear you over the noise.

“steve,” muttering under your finger. honestly he’d appreciate if you’d just slide it between his lips, he needed to taste you some way, some how.

“steve,” you echo, running your delicate finger down over his bottom lip, pulling the plump skin with you.

the corners of his mouth turn, without sounding like he was crazy, he was sure you were made for him. something had drawn him into coming tonight, and now he thinks he knows what, or who.

“d’you wanna get outta here?” trying his luck, steve wasn’t interested in the long game.

and neither were you, nodding before you slide your hands down his chest, making sure to cop a feel before you ultimately leave with him.

-

by the time you reach your house, guided by your unhelpful directions, you’re ravenous. pulling him by the hand into your building, ready to jump his bones.

it’s not as if he wasn’t feeling the same, he’d been eyeing your dress riding up the entire journey. his hands find solace on your waist, gliding down to your ass, squeezing onto any and all flesh he could get his paws on.

you’re barely in the corridor, groping and grinding like some fucking high schoolers. steve’s lips brush against yours, appreciating the beauty in not-quite and nearly. it wouldn’t last long. not with the way his pants were already strained.

“you gonna kiss me then?” panting against his soft mouth, arms already hung around his neck.

“maybe if you ask nicely,” wanting to drag it out just a little while longer.

a laugh catches in your throat, gazing into his eyes with pure lustrous intentions, “please kiss me.”

he indulges, connecting your lips at long, long last. immediately overcome with the urge to just fuck you here against the wall. the kiss is messy, the kind he loves. all teeth and tongues, colliding in a haste, soft grunts fill the echoey hall.

breaking free just long enough to instruct you to, “jump,” large hands supporting your thighs as you do so, wrapping around his hips.

he’s not a clue where he’s going, deciding that your bedroom was far more appropriate than right beside your front door.

“on the right,” you pant into his mouth, there’s a sickly sweet taste on your breath. it’s addictive, steve wants to keep you attached to him at all times.

he clumsily backs through the door, struggling with keeping you upright while also not tripping over his feet and smashing backwards into the floor. grateful to drop you onto the mattress, immediately poising himself above.

“you live alone?” he asks, well aware that your bedroom door was wide open and anyone else would be subjected to performance he was about to give.

“no.. just me,” latching your lips onto his stubbly jawline, brushing your fingers against his belt buckle.

“good,” he grunts. working your dress up, exposing your delicate panties. if he’d known what was waiting for him underneath, he’d have just had you in the car.

your body works with him, hips canting as he removes the thin fabric, chest pressing to his while your hands work their own mission. the metal clinks, his pants unbuttoned, tugged down his thighs.

he wants to grab and squeeze every inch of you, fumbling his way down to your panties, tender and gentle but also rushed, like he needs to be inside of you right this second.

his shirt comes off with the help of your skilful fingers, sliding off of his arms and onto the floor. “you’re beautiful,” making a point to tell you as he gawps at your soft thighs, the way they’re spread so for him.

you shy away, shrinking into the covers. steve towers over you, kneeling on the springy mattress, “y’gotta look at me baby,” hands bringing your legs up onto his shoulder, held together by your ankles.

he can see how wet you are, slick and ready for him. your eyes find his even in the dark of your room, lip tucked between your teeth. he fists his cock, pre-cum leaking from the pink tip.

sliding between your sticky folds, teasing himself, teasing you as you whimper in anticipation. “can you..” you speak, trailing off into the air.

“hmm?”

you grumble, “please?” hands grabbing at his arms, clinging onto anything you could reach.

he teases the tip into your cunt, exhaling deeply as you envelop him, “shit.. you always feel like this?” he pants, sinking into your heat until he bottoms out. the long game wasn’t over, waiting for your response before he can give you what you need.

“i don’t.. i don’t know,” whining from underneath, your fingernails starting to sting as you urge him to move.

“so wet.. hm, perfect,” unable to resist any longer. his hips slam against the backs of your thighs, the intense sound of skin colliding with skin fills your night-lit bedroom.

his movements draw a long mewl from your lips, all glossy with spit and shared kisses. the angle is just right, stretching around him perfectly. like you were made to fit together.

“fuck,” you whine, turning into a wreck right in front of him. steve’s not one for meaningful sex but this feels different. he repositions your ankles, balancing them either side of his neck as he presses his chest to yours, finally able to kiss those plump lips, catching the sounds that tumble out with his own mouth.

he’s buried even further inside with this new position, slow thrusts that have you squeaking with every move. it’s music to his ears, spurring him on further.

you’re folded up under him, knees to your chin, pressing your tits together. steve wishes he had the capabilities to have his mouth in a hundred places at once, biting down on your bottom lip to stop himself from growling.

“yeah.. right there,” affirming his pace as your eyes roll back, dissipating into a cock-drunk mess.

you squeeze around him, he doesn’t have to be told what’s next. your breathy gasps are doing enough, drawing his own orgasm to a high. “is that good? yeah, baby?” nudging against your sweet spot, every pump of his hips had you in even more of a daze.

words fail to form on your tongue, a babbling mess of hoarse moans and barely audible mumblings of his name. christ, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to leave now.

your palms spread out on the white blanket, fisting the fabric as you teeter of the edge, calves trembling around his neck. you squeal, squeezing around him before descending even further into your pleasure.

“where d’you want me?” he rushes, tempo faltering as your cunt pushes him to his own orgasm. there’s a split-second thought, an amorous feeling even, to just cum inside. it’s quickly pushed aside when you mutter something about your stomach.

he pulls out, the shlick sound of your cunt making his head spin as he releases his load into your quivering stomach, moaning some chorus of your name as he does.

his breaths are laboured as he lets your legs fall, chest heaving as come back to earth. steve collapses onto the bed, stretching his stiff legs when the lamp flickers on, brightening up the room.

“hold on,” he ushers, climbing off the bed to grab something, anything, to clean the mess he’d made.

he picks up some old towel, clearly discarded from earlier this evening and wipes the stickiness from your skin. re-dumping it on the floor before sitting on the other side of the bed.

you’re even prettier in this light, mascara slightly smudged, hair tousled with wisps all over the place. he’s even more sure that he’s never gonna be able to walk out of here, at least not with his dignity.

“d’you want me to..go?” well aware that he’s stood fuck-ass naked in the middle of your room as you busy around with a t-shirt. god he hopes you say no.

“no,” shaking your head, sliding the shirt over your head, an unwelcome addition.

he smiles to himself, pulling his boxers back on, at least for his own dignity before laying back down on the other side of the bed. in the heat of the moment, he hadn’t actually taken any notice of where he was.

using the opportunity to peer around the bare room, a small vanity in the corner and a slightly cracked full-length mirror was all there really was. maybe you were a minimalist or some shit?

“where the hell did you learn that?” you ponder, pulling his attention from the lack of your belongings and back to you.

“what’re you trying to say?”

your lips twitch, turning over to turn the light off again, encasing the room in a familiar darkness. “goodnight, steve,” his name curling off of your tongue in that tantalising way it had all night.

he scoffs, burying himself beneath the blanket while his arm searches for you aimless, catching onto your waist to pull you into his chest.

maybe it’s just his brain or maybe it’s because he already thinks he knows you so well, but he’s sure he can feel your smile, your heartbeat rippling through your skin.

he could get used to this.

-

when he wakes, you’re still sleeping soundly beside him. eyelashes fanning out across your cheeks, an image to behold.

he wills you awake for what feels like hours, eventually growing tired of your soft snores and nudging his knee into your leg, pulling you from your slumber.

“you’re still here?” you groan, eliciting a sudden laugh from his throat. brutal or what?

“well shit, and here i was thinking of buying you breakfast,” he doesn’t take any offence, nestling his face into the nape of your neck. pressing soft kisses to the warm skin as he drapes his arm around your waist, running his hand underneath your t-shirt.

“i didn’t mean it like that,” you sigh, still groggy as you relax into his hold. the back of your head comes to meet his shoulder, “d’you usually hang around for breakfast?”

“no,” steve smiles in between kisses, “but you’re different,” walking his fingers over the curve of your waist, inching higher and higher.

you really were. and he’d known it from the second the dizzying club lights had perfectly illuminated you to him.

“different, hmm?” sighing softly into the morning air.

“mhm,” he hums, palm meeting your breast, drawing a sharp breath out of your mouth. “i think i know what i want for breakfast,” teasing your nipple, loving the way you shudder in response.

“what’s that?” you breathe, placing your hand atop of his.

“you.”

he’d been gagging to taste you, pretty sure he’d dreamt about it last night too. he climbs on top, hovering over your sleep-laden body, making the descent down between your legs.

peppering kisses between your plush thighs, savouring the feel of the soft skin encasing his ears and cheeks. his hands hold you steady, keeping your hips pressed into the mattress as his mouth attaches to your pussy, licking strong lines between your folds.

hand travelling upward, grabbing at the too-big shirt, palming at your breasts. this’d be enough to get him off too, he’s sure.

his phone buzzes repeatedly, the nightstand shaking with every message, he groans into your core, sending your head back into the pillow. “ignore it,” you whisper, urging him to continue.

he tries, only for a brief second before sighing, “i can’t,” he frowns, kneeling on the mattress before reaching over for the fucking thing.

he really can’t.

shit.

“fuck, i’ve gotta go,” he swallows, glancing back at you, really, really not wanting to leave.

“are you joking?”

“no,” clambering off the bed to find his discarded clothes, god he wishes he could stay. “it’s.. work, if i don’t answer, i’m dead,” his eyes fall to your barely covered chest, he’ll have to fight the stiffy on the way over to the yard.

you’re pouting now, trying everything to get him to stay. and he knows he’s an asshole, getting you riled up and soaked before disappearing. but he also knows his dad would wring his neck if he found out he’d ignored him for some girl he’d barely met.

steve leans over, planting a kiss to the corner of your downturned mouth, “i’ll be back,” nodding as he gathers his things from your nightstand, shoving them into his pockets.

“what?” you exclaim, brows furrowed as if you weren’t understanding him.

“i’ll be back.. later, so be ready,” before sliding out of the door and down the hall. fingers already re-dialling his dad as the sunlight hits his face. god, he wished he’d brushed his teeth, or at least asked for some gum.

“where the hell are you?” his dad barks down the phone, steve holds the thing away from his ear. it was far too early for him to get his ear chewed off.

“i was.. with a friend, sorry,” not exactly a lie. he assumes this makes you friends or more.

“friend my ass,” his father scoffs, huffing out a deflated, “just get down here,” before the line goes dead.

he rolls his eyes, finding the haphazardly parked car and jumping in. he had approximately twenty minutes to get rid of the boner in his pants and the taste of pussy in his mouth.

-

steve’s knuckles rap against your door, he’s a little later than he had hoped to be, but he’s here, just as he said he would be.

the door swings open, revealing a very obviously not-ready you, brows furrowed.

“you’re not ready,” he says flatly, eyeing the large sweater and shorts you had on instead. hey, you look great but not for where he wants to take you.

“i thought you were joking,” half-laughing at him and the fact that you’re stood in your pajamas in your doorway.

“i don’t joke,” shaking his head, “go on.. we’re going out.”

“where?” you question. couldn’t you just get ready without all of these questions?

“it’s a secret,” tapping the side of his nose inconspicuously.

you look baffled, mouth hung open before you disappear into the dark hallway, leaving the door ajar which steve takes as an invitation inside.

he closes the door behind him, knows the way to your room already, following the faint sound of your voice coming from down the hall. who the hell were you talking to?

“no he’s here nance,” speaking in hushed tones, not intending for him to be eavesdropping. “we’re going out.. no, no i don’t know where,” he nears the door, lurking behind to listen to whatever else you might reveal about him to nance. “okay.. i’ll call you later.. yes, i fuckin’ hope so.. okay bye.”

you go silent for a minute, steve hangs back, stood beside the door like some creep. until you come rushing out, holding two dresses. startled to see him you freeze, staring at him like you’d seen a ghost.

“that one,” he nods towards the one in your left hand, a little red number, “definitely that one,” he’s not even going to acknowledge the fact that he was listening to your conversation.

“uh- okay,” walking back into your bedroom, leaving the door open just a crack.

steve decides against going in, making his way to your living room to peruse your personal belongings there. he wasn’t doing it to be weird or intrusive, he just wanted to know more about you.

the decor is.. interesting. pictures of kids that he assumes are your siblings, hang all over the walls, the couch is clearly second hand, his eyes drawn to the peeling leather.

he doesn’t mind, in fact he’d buy you a new one tomorrow if you asked.

there’s something sweet about it all though, that even after you’ve moved out or away, you’ve still got their pictures hanging on your wall. sometimes he wished he had siblings, at least then his dad might not be so hard on him.

his self-pitying thoughts are interrupted when your clatter into the room, still brushing lipgloss over your lips. “is this good enough for you?” you ask, as if he’d ever disagree.

his eyes linger on your figure, “perfect,” deciding to now meet your gaze, “you ready?”

you nod, glossy lips curling into a smile. he hopes you’ll share some of it with him later.

he leads the way, holding the door open for you like any gentleman should, opening the passenger door of the shiny new bmw, closing it gently as you sit inside.

“i thought you had a different car last night?” you ask as he slides in, eyeing the pleather interior.

“i did,” is all he replies. he’ll tell you some point, he’s sure. “nice day?” filling the car with small talk as he drives.

the restaurant isn’t far from your place, he’d called giovanni for a table earlier, assured that it’d all be set up before he got there.

and it is, his favourite table laid out on arrival. nodding towards the young waiter who just wriggles his brows in response.

steve doesn’t like how quiet you are, obviously not accustomed to anyone going the extra mile for you. “so, tell me about your family,” nudging the conversation along.

“it’s a long story,” you sigh, sipping the overpriced wine he’d bought for the table.

“i’ve got time.”

your eyes narrow slightly, deciding whether to trust him he supposes.

but you do. tales of younger siblings and working three jobs, deadbeat mothers and a dad that couldn’t have cared less. it’s like nothing he’s ever heard before and it’s no surprise that you’re not used to being so looked after when all you’ve ever done is look after other people.

“so what about you, pretty boy,” poking your shoe into his shin, a question he’d hoped you wouldn’t ask.

“oh you know.. the usual,” pouring the rest of the wine into your glass, “i.. sell cars with my dad, he’s an asshole too but you’ve got me beat there,” sipping on his own glass of the bitter liquid.

your nostrils flare, scoffing at him from across the table, “ohh.. i get your schtick now, it all makes sense,” nodding at your own apparent revelation.

“you think so?” tilting his chin toward the ceiling, quirking his brows. enlighten him, please.

you hum, smirking to yourself, thinking you’d got him all figured out. “yup.. rich kid, lives off of daddy’s money but hates him anyway and now you fuck around, take girls to fancy restaurants,” your eyes glide around the extravagant interior, “maybe you’ll hang around for a couple’a months and then you’ll leave, run right back to daddy.”

you’re so smug about it too. so smug and so wrong.

steve can’t contain his grin. fuck, he likes you so much.

he doesn’t reply, keeping his gaze steady on you. he’s decided that tonight is the night. yeah it might be a little quick but you were obviously worthy of knowing.

“you know i told you i sell cars?” he asks, leaning over the table.

“what?”

“follow me,” he orders, the glint in his eye only meant one thing. it was probably stupid and his dad would definitely be on his ass about it tomorrow but it’d be so worth it.

you look baffled, eyes following as he stands from the table, throwing a couple hundred dollar bills down. his hand is extended, waiting for you to listen.

after a second, you oblige, taking his hand, following cautiously behind. he realises that this definitely makes him look like a crazed weirdo, but he can’t wait. licking his lips in sheer anticipation.

the street is quiet, thank god. so he pulls you over towards the shiny red porsche parked outside, muttering a hushed, “watch this,” before getting to work.

he’s done this a thousand times before, not usually with a pretty girl watching, but he still had it. fingers messing about with the keyhole, doing what he does best.

voices emerge from the alley, forcing him to think quick. instead of abandoning the car, he presses your body against the door, kissing your lips with a haste, keeping one hand over the nearly-cracked lock.

“ste-,” you start, only to be interrupted by his lips. eventually you relax into it, smiling against his mouth. it really was absurd, be he had to prove himself.

the couple from the alley turn off, disappearing off down the street, letting him break the kiss to check they’d really gone. you look at him in amazement, gormless and most likely wondering what the fuck was even going on.

“what the fuck?” you whisper, amused as you step sideways, letting him continue with the car.

“what? you didn’t enjoy it?”

“well.. i, i wasn’t expecting that,” shying away from him, your bashfulness isn’t necessary here.

the door pops open and he turns to you with a satisfied smile, “get in,” holding the bright red door open for you. he’d have to swing back and get the bmw tomorrow but if it meant you wouldn’t just write him off as some daddy’s boy, it’d be totally worth it.

“this is fucking crazy,” you remark but slide into the car anyway. watching intently as his fingers fiddle with the underwires, a process that was normally incredibly tedious but had him feeling like james fucking bond in front of you.

the engine roars suddenly, sending him back to his seat, pulling the seat belt over his chest before he speeds off.

it’s exhilarating, the rush never wears off no matter how many times he had done this. steve’s eyes peer over to you, your mouth hung open in what he can assume is a mixture of terror and thrill.

“you figured me out yet?” poking his tongue into his cheek, he could feel the cockiness exuding from his pores but couldn’t help it. you’d been so sure, so set on him being some rich asshole and now he was really anything but.

you laugh, a real, maniacal laugh, nails digging into the leather door handle, “no,” your eyes shining as the streetlights whiz by.

he pulls into some abandoned parking lot, the porsche stood out like a sore thumb surrounded by the bricks and rubble left behind.

“i told you i sell cars, i didn’t say it was exactly legal,” leaning over the centre console, goading you, smug as all hell.

you stare back, realising that he was no longer the man you’d expected him to be. his dad did have a lot of money, but hell, they had to work for it. he’d been doing this long before steve was ever born.

“what else don’t i know about you, steve,” inching closer in your own seat. god, he hopes you’ll desecrate this car with him.

“you’ll have to stick around and find out,” cocking his head to the side.

your smile is worth more than anything you could’ve said, smacking your lips together before reaching over and kissing his. it’s slow, worlds away from how you had jumped on him last night. he just wants to pull you over onto his lap, christen the car before it gets sold to some stuck-up prick.

steve takes that as a sign that you’re willing to hang around, god knows how long it’d last or hell- if it’d even ever work but for you, he’s more than prepared to wait and see.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve stranger things #steve harrington fic

[fookingmuffins]

Say something babe

James potter x reader

Angst

I have not written anything in years and English is not my first language, so pls be kind. I'm trying to do things that scare me (posting my writing) just to get over my fears, and I hope you guys enjoy. (Or not since it's angst sksksk) also, this is not proofread at all I kinda wrote it in my notes and ran imma edit it tomorrow when I'm not half asleep

Pic creds to @/sofflllll on pintrest

You giggled quietly as you were sneaking into the Gryffindor common room with the help of your best friend Penny to surprise your boyfriend. You had been dismissed from your last club meeting before break earlier than expected, and you were dying for a cuddle session after barely seeing him this last week with the many activities you had been doing from extra classes to the clubs you were part of.

"Oi potter! You got to tell me, mate, what's the matter between you and y/n?" You abruptly stopped with Penny looking at each other as you heard your name being mentioned between James and a voice you recognized as Castor, one of his quidditch buddies and a guy who had been randomly getting flirty with you despite your protest and the fact the whole school knew you were with James. You had mentioned to James how uncomfortable Castor made you feel before, but he brushed it off and always seemed preoccupied with other matters, assuring you Castor was just being a boy.

"What about her?" James said with an uncomfortable chuckle

"Well, you're clearly messing with Evans recently, so I was wondering where that would leave her at tonight's party?" You felt Penny squeeze your hand and pull it a little as tears welled up in your eyes. Messing with Evans? You had been with James for a year now, and you knew he liked Lily before, but that was long over before you two got together when they decided they were better off as friends. You held your breath as you waited for James to say something, to deny that something was happening between him and Lily and tell them off because you were his but all you heard was his signature boyish laugh that usually got you grinning like a fool and made your bad days better but this time all you felt was a knot form in your throat.

Penny tried to pull your hand to get the two of you out of there but all you did was shake your head and pull her back, you were frozen in place and needed to hear more despite everything in you telling you to run. "She's all yours if she'll have you mate. Might help me distract her a bit while Lily and I have some fun." A knot formed at the back of your throat, and you tried to swallow it as you blinked to stop the tears that were threatening to spill, but you just couldn't.

"OH come on, Potter, you cannot be serious, I really thought she was gonna be your wife once we left Hogwarts." You heard Percy, another teammate, say. "The girl seems head over heels for you and half the school wanted her, and she chose you"

"That's just it! She is so obsessed with me, it's suffocating! Definitely would never marry her. Can you imagine that? At Hogwarts, I at least get away from her when I'm in the common room, but having to live with her seems like torture to me. Especially with all her stupid friends always around" After hearing that you turned around leaving Penny behind and ran out of the portrait you had just been so careful to pass through unnoticed. You could hear Penny try to catch up to you and call out your name once you were a bit far from the Gryffindor entrance, but you just kept running, although you felt like you couldn't breathe and your vision was blurry. Had he always felt that way about you? Maybe you had done something wrong and that's why he was saying that. You probably were clingy, but you were just trying to help and show him you were there for him despite the many activities you had gotten yourself involved with since you joined Hogwarts.

As soon as you got into your dorm, you started packing the last few things you were gonna take over spring break, checking the time and realizing you could still make the night train. You were supposed to leave the next day with James and all of his friends after spending the day at Hogsmade, but he obviously would prefer it if you didn't. When you were ready you stood in front of your door slowly feeling the knot in your throat fade along with that uncomfortable pang in your chest, suddenly you felt nothing, It's like James Potter had so much control of my emotions you didn't know what to feel anymore.

When you made it on the train, you sat in an empty cabin away from the few passengers who were also on board and just stared at the seat in front of you. You wanted to be mad to feel something, but everything in you had turned numb, and you felt sleep take over from the crying you had done earlier.

Part 2?

#james potter x reader angst #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter #james potter x lily evans #james potter angst #james potter x y/n #fanfic

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

scum of the earth

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Naoya Zen'in x chubby fem reader ɞ

Part 1 ♥︎ Part 2 ♥︎ Part 3 ♥︎ Part 4 ♥︎ Part 5

❥ Word Count: 6.8k

❥ CW: chubby fem reader, implied smut, daddy kink, angst

❥ A/N: heyyyyy... heyy... how yall doin aldjladjla. Okay, first off, thank you so much for your patience with me and this series. I've had a lot going on these past few months and writing has not been a big priority as a result. I wanted to post this entire chapter at once but it was getting way too long, so I'm splitting it up into a part 4 and part 5. I promise i won't take as long writing part 5 sksksk. This part is pretty tame, no explicit smut or anything but there'll be more in the future i promise. Im posting this mainly to clear my conscience and hold yall over till im done. Thank u very much for your continued support 💕

You knew Naoya Zen’in was rich. He always wore designer clothes, rode in that ridiculously expensive sports car, even his water was overpriced—some kind of brand named “Fine” that was five dollars per bottle. It was all excessive, but you were mostly able to ignore it because it didn’t include you; it was a separate entity that you didn’t need to worry about.

But then came the wedding.

You were hesitant to accept his invitation: going to one of his brothers’ weddings as a guest? You didn’t even know he had one brother let alone multiple; was it really appropriate to go to such an important event when you didn’t even know the groom existed not too long ago?

“I don’t see the problem,” Naoya had expressed one evening, arms wrapped around your waist as you busied yourself at the stove. “You don’t need to be close with them. You’re gonna be my plus one, that’s all that matters.”

“But it doesn’t seem fair,” you had argued. “Like, I’m a complete stranger and I’m coming in to eat your expensive food and drink your expensive alcohol. It just seems really shallow and mean.”

“Babe, they’re not gonna care. Everybody brings a plus one, and half of them I’ve never seen before.” His large hands had found your hips, squeezing as he pulled you back into him. “Just relax, princess. There’s nothing to worry about. C’mon, just say yes and come with me. I already booked the tickets; you’re not gonna make me go alone, are you?”

And that’s what did it, that hint of guilt in his tone that made you feel bad. You could’ve easily said no and pushed him off, told him that you still didn’t want to go and that he would survive without you, but you’d grown a soft spot for him. The two of you hadn’t made anything official yet, but he was acting like a boyfriend, coming over to your apartment often just to be close to you. He would bring food after class or maybe alcohol on a Saturday night and watch a movie with you, falling asleep as he cuddled you on the couch. It was all about the sex before, and now you were seeing a more genuine side to him that you didn’t know was possible. He seemed more like a person, and you found yourself liking him despite him hurting you in the past.

So, you agreed. You bought a dress (which Naoya was very upset to learn about, insisting that he should have had a say in picking the dress and buying it for you; he sulked for the rest of the evening), packed your things, and you were off to the airport together. You were shocked by the state of first class, but you kept your thoughts to yourself, assuming that he was just trying to show off, to impress you. You tried not to pay it any mind, but you couldn’t ignore it any longer once you arrived at the hotel.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Naoya glanced over his shoulder at you, signing the last bit of paperwork before sliding it back to the receptionist, taking the keycards from her.

“What’s up?” he asked, his tone not particularly interested in what your answer may be.

“What do you mean ‘what’s up’? What the hell is up with this place? Why’s it so big? Why’re the ceilings so high? Why’s there a fountain? What kind of���” He shushed you gently, walking over just to rub his hand over your back.

“Calm down, princess. It’s a five-star hotel; what did you expect?”

“I don’t know, I just…” You sighed as he led you to the elevators, holding onto your suitcase tightly. “It just doesn’t seem real. It feels like–”

“A fairytale?” You scoffed.

“Like a prank. I feel like someone’s gonna jump out of nowhere and make fun of me for thinking any of this is real.”

“Damn, that’s a bit harsh, dontcha think?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” you grumbled, watching him push the button to your floor, meeting your reflection once the doors closed.

“Aww, now that’s mean,” he cooed, shifting towards you, leaning close. “I’m not the big bad bully I used to be, you know.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll believe it when I see it.” Naoya hummed, tucking his face into your neck, wasting no time kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin below your ear.

“Don’t worry, princess. Daddy’ll show you how much he’s changed.”

“Oh my God, stop talking.”

“Aw, what’s the matter? Don’t you like when I talk dirty?” You inhaled deeply, turning your head so you were nose to nose with him.

“No, Daddy, I don’t like when you talk dirty when we’re in public.” You meant for the statement to dissuade him, make him back off a bit, but he only smirked and pulled you closer.

“Shit, call me ‘Daddy’ again.”

“Nuh-uh,” you hurried, thanking the universe when the elevator doors opened. You slipped from his grasp, hurrying out into the hall, ignoring his protests from behind you. You knew the room number so you dashed down the hall, giggling with your luggage in tow until you reached the room. Naoya grabbed you not even a second later, arms wrapped tightly around you as he nibbled at your cheek.

“And where do you think you’re going?” His hands moved quickly, touching you in your most sensitive spots, making you laugh uncontrollably.

“Stop, N-Naoya! Quit it, it tickles!!”

The two of you froze when you heard a loud ‘shush’ turning to gaze down the hall at an older woman shaking her head before turning her back on you. You snorted softly, covering your mouth to stifle your giggles as Naoya reached for his keycard, pushing it into the slot above the door handle.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” he hissed teasingly, blowing a raspberry on your neck as he pushed in the door. A squeal slipped out of you as you darted inside, the noise dying out once you got a view of the room you were staying in.

Jesus, he really was rich. The room felt like something you’d find in a castle or some high budget Hollywood movie. The room was washed in white and sepia tones, clean but not unwelcoming, busy but not cramped. The king-sized bed was covered in throw pillows, the headboard nearly reaching the ceiling, a nightstand and lamp on either side of the mattress. Across from it was a dresser, a flatscreen TV perched on top, almost the length of your wingspan. A large mirror was placed on the wall, a minibar and coffee machine beside it. Moving further into the room you noticed the plush chairs placed casually beside a breakfast table, a desk and chair mirroring the quaint setup.

But the most striking part of the room was the balcony. You opened the door and stepped out onto the concrete platform, marveling at how an entire couch and coffee table could fit out there with room to spare. You stared out at the beach, breathing in deeply as a breeze rolled by, relaxing even as an arm curled around your waist.

“So? Not bad, right?” You scoffed, eyes closing as another breeze tickled your skin, the sun beaming and reflecting off of the sand.

“Yeah. Not bad at all.” You turned to give him a teasing grin but stuttered when you saw the look on his face. There was no smirk, no narcissistic sneer: it was just Naoya, eyes soft, the corner of his mouth upturned just a bit. He cleared his throat a moment later and the sarcastic smile was back, eyebrows raised.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to fuck you over a balcony. Maybe this is a sign that we should do it.” You snorted, shaking your head.

“Jeez, way to ruin the mood, dingdong.”

“What? I’m just speaking my mind. I mean there’s a couch here and everything; we should take advantage of the opportunity presented to us.” You started laughing, not pushing him away when his arms locked around you and pulled you to his chest, his nose buried in your hair, keeping his face out of view. You sank into his warmth, letting yourself indulge in his gentle demeanor, a side of him that you didn’t see as often as you wanted. His hands soothingly rubbed at your back, lips pressing against your temple as he swayed lazily.

A ringtone ruined the moment. Naoya groaned, pulling back from you to take his phone out of his back pocket. He sighed when he saw the screen.

“I gotta take this. Why don’t you start unpacking, maybe check out the bathroom?” You perked up, nodding slightly before you trotted back inside. You glanced back when he answered the phone. “Hello, sir. How was your flight?” he spoke solemnly, his face flat as he closed the sliding door. You furrowed your brow, watching his demeanor change drastically as he turned to stare out at the ocean–shoulders back, chest forward, as if he were a soldier’s ideal. You hummed inquisitively but decided to tuck your curiosity away for another time, turning away to peek into the bathroom.

It was lovely. A walk in shower, a large tub that looked like it could actually cover your entire body when filled, a long marble counter with a sink and luxurious bathing products tucked into a corner. There were bathrobes hanging next to the towels, and the image of two lovers snuggling up together in the cushiony white robes made your heart swell just a bit. You appreciated everything you saw in the bathroom and left once you had taken it all in, moving to your suitcases. Naoya was still on the phone, stiff as a board, hand flexing occasionally at his side. You pushed your suitcase on its side, plopping down on your knees and opening it up, taking out some of its contents–your bathing supplies, a makeup bag, a pair of heels for tomorrow. You were considering taking out your dress and hanging it in the nearby closet when the balcony door opened and shut, Naoaya coming inside.

“Hey, I gotta go take care of something real quick. I might be gone for a couple hours.” You frowned, pouting ever so slightly.

“What do you mean? We just got here.”

“Yeah, I know, but I gotta handle some business.” You hummed sadly, pouting.

"Where are you going?" He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Nowhere important. Just some family junk. Nothing to worry about." He approached you, squatting down to your level and giving an apologetic smile. “Sorry to abandon you the minute we got here. I know you’ll feel so lost without me.”

“Oh, fuck off.” His laugh was lighthearted, easy. He reached into his pocket, pulling out one of the keycards to the room.

“Here’s your key. It also gives you access to different services around the hotel like the restaurants and spa and shit. Don’t lose it and don’t forget it in the room.” You nodded in understanding, reaching for the card, frowning when he pulled it away. “I’m serious, Y/N, don’t forget your card. I’m not gonna swoop down and rescue you by letting you into the room when you forget. I’ll make you sleep outside–”

“Oh my God, Naoya, I get it. You’ll make me suffer if I forget my card. I promise I won’t.” You reached for the card again but he pulled it back farther.

“Ah-ah-ah! You think I’m just gonna give it to you for free? I gotta get something out of this too–”

“Jesus, Naoya, just get to the point.” He smirked, pointing at his lips and giving them a few light taps. You rolled your eyes, leaning forward to press your lips against his, kissing him softly. He sighed against you, free hand finding your neck, keeping you in place. There was a time when you would’ve found that action annoying and weirdly possessive, but right now you didn’t mind. It made you feel safe, secure, like he would never let anything happen to you.

You snatched the card while he was busy, pulling away to meet his shocked expression. He scoffed, shaking his head.

“You little sneak. You’re lucky I lo…” His voice died off, smile faltering as his eyes searched you. You frowned, blinking.

“Lucky you what?” He opened his mouth to speak but shook his head again, returning to his feet.

“It’s nothin. I gotta hurry.” He ruffled your hair as he walked past, snickering when you whined in protest. “I’ll see you in a couple hours, okay?”

“Okay,” you called after, watching him leave. He sent you one last look before he closed the door, leaving you in silence and solitude. You sighed and stood up, shaking out your legs. You grabbed a nearby pamphlet, flipping through to educate yourself on the hotel’s services. You might as well enjoy some alone time while you had the chance.

You weren’t sure if you’d ever been pampered like this before. You’d started with a light lunch, surprised at how accommodating the staff down in the bistro were. It felt like they were being especially nice to you, but perhaps it was because it was so slow. Then the same happened at the spa. The employees waited on you hand and foot, providing exceptional care and service. You spoiled yourself the entire time, opting for a massage, a facial, a manicure and pedicure, hell, even a mud bath.

You hadn’t felt so refreshed in so long; by the time you got back to your room several hours later, you were so relaxed that you felt sleepy. You opted to take a nap since Naoya still wasn’t back, putting on one of the sinfully soft robes and cuddling up under the covers, sinking into the memory foam mattress. You slept for a bit, waking up to a shuffling sound. You peeked through your lashes right as the bathroom door opened, a stream of light illuminating the wall. Naoya stepped out wearing a robe, running a towel over his head as he looked at his phone. He turned into the bedroom, looking up and smiling once he saw you.

“Hey there, dummy,” he mumbled gently so as not to disturb you too much. You hummed, snuggling further into the bed as he walked along his side. He turned on the lamp opposite you, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut, whining in protest. “Don’t whine; it’s just a little light,” he whispered, climbing onto the bed with you, phone discarded as he settled beside you, face to face.

“What time is it?” you muttered barely coherently, rubbing at your face.

“After seven. I got back around six thirty but I didn’t wanna wake you up.” He brushed a few strands of hair out of your face, his palm meeting your cheek. “How was your day? Did you have fun? Did everyone treat you nicely?” You nodded sleepily, inhaling sharply and giving a little stretch, curling closer to his frame.

“It was nice. The food and drinks here are really good. I had a sandwich and soup for lunch.”

“Hm, well, I’m glad my humble five star hotel met your standards.”

“Oh, hush.” He snickered, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you towards him and kissing your forehead.

“What did you do today?”

“Hm… well, I went to the spa and got a lot of stuff done. I took a mud bath which was weird. I was gonna go to the pool but I got sleepy. Oh! And I got my nails done,” you exclaimed, finally perking up after your long nap, raising your hands from under the sheets to show off your manicure. Naoya grabbed onto one hand gently, turning it this way and that to get a better look, humming and nodding.

“Not bad.”

“Not bad?? They look great for your information.” Naoya scoffed.

“Calm down, princess, I wasn’t saying they were bad–”

“Yeah, whatever, you just don’t appreciate nice stuff like this ‘cause you’re a dumb boy.”

“Wow, sexist much? I should call the New York Times and have them write an exposé about how mean you are. Gonna be a twenty page spread about how you’re a huuuuge bitch.” You snorted, slapping his arm playfully.

“Aw, fuck you!”

“Fuck you!” You couldn’t stop your laughter, electing to bury your face in your pillow to hide your giggles. Naoya pressed his nose into your neck, sinking into you and breathing deep. “You smell good,” he mumbled, his voice turning soft as he smelled your hair. Your giggles subsided as he exposed your neck, pressing a gentle kiss against your warm skin. You shivered, hands finding his hair, fingers combing through the two-toned strands. He kissed down your neck, tugging at the sheets so he could trail to your chest.

“You know what I think we should do?” You hummed, urging him to continue. “I think we should have sex, order room service, and then have sex again. I think it sounds like a great idea.”

“Hmm, I dunno… I’m not in the mood for a fancy dinner.”

“You don’t need anything fancy! You can make a special request.”

“But won’t that be annoying to them? What if they say no?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Y/N. I’m the son of the hotel owner. They’re not gonna tell you ‘no’. And if they do, I'll fire ‘em.”

“Don’t fire anybody! That’s excessive.”

“Nothing’s excessive when it comes to my girl.”

My girl. How could two simple words make your heart pound? You sighed, pulling his hair back to get a proper look at his face. He smiled up at you, pushing your robe to the side, burying himself into your chest. He kissed your sternum, nuzzling close and sighing, arms slinking around your waist.

“I’m your girl, huh?”

“Duh. Whose else would you be?” You huffed, nosing his hair and smiling softly.

“Okay, I guess I’ll eat dinner with you… but only if I can get pancakes.”

“Whatever you want, princess.”

“Ooo, whatever I want? What if I want pancakes in the shape of hearts with chocolate and fruit and a big glass of wine?”

“Consider it done. I'll get a grilled cheese and scotch.”

"Pffft–"

“Would you hurry up already? We gotta leave soon.”

“You can’t rush perfection, Naoya.”

“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you.”

“Oh wow, quoting Spongebob? What are you, five?” Naoya rolled his eyes, smacking the bathroom door before trudging back into the bedroom.

“Just hurry up. We don’t have all day.”

He heard you say something, but it was muffled by the door and he wasn’t curious enough to ask you to repeat yourself. He moved to the mirror on the wall, giving himself another once-over. He smoothed out his jacket, checking his cufflinks and watch, adjusting his pocket square. He briefly wondered if he should remove his earrings but decided against it, fussing over his hair instead. He was about to mess with his bowtie when the bathroom door opened and you stepped out.

“Well, it’s about ti–”

He froze when he saw you, eyes shamelessly raking over your frame. The mermaid dress fit you perfectly, defining your curves, cinching your waist and accentuating your hips. He appreciated that it was off-the-shoulder, leaving your neck on display. Your hair was sensible but lovely, your makeup only adding to your beauty. You picked up your clutch bag, dropping a few makeup products inside.

“Don’t even start. I don’t need you nagging me about how long I took even though it wasn’t long at all.”

“Oh, don’t worry, baby. I’m not gonna nag you.” He approached you with purpose, his hand skimming your hip. “You look fantastic.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Zen’in.” You grabbed onto his shoulder, stabilizing yourself as you got into your heels. He put an arm on you to keep you steady, waiting patiently until you were standing tall. You smiled, removing your hand and taking a step back. “Okay, now I’ll open the floor to flattery.” Naoya scoffed, grabbing your hand and pulling you close.

“You look fucking sexy, but, like, in a mature way.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him do the same with your waist.

“You kind of suck at compliments.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that you’re gorgeous beyond words.” A wave of heat ran through you as you waved him off.

“You’re just sayin that.” He didn’t give a snarky comment; instead he leaned forward, eyes locked on your lips, determined. You stopped him before he could make contact, putting your hand up between the two of you. “Nuh-uh, no kisses. I just did my makeup; I’m not about to let you mess it up.”

“Booo, whatever. Gonna mess it up later, though. Gonna smudge your lipstick and–”

“Alright, Romeo, let’s go before you ruin my look.”

It took a bit of work getting his hands off of you, but you made it out of the room and down to the first floor with minor amounts of manhandling on his part. You reached the lobby, letting Naoya lead you to a more secluded part of the hotel with a hand on your waist. The quiet halls began to bustle the deeper you got into the hotel, and you were surprised when you arrived at an entrance to a reception, not a wedding. You slowed, causing him to stop with you.

“I thought we were going to the wedding?” you whispered to him. He looked between you and the entrance that was about fifty feet ahead of you.

“The wedding happened yesterday and the reception is today.” He noticed your confused pout and pat your hip reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Only direct family was invited so you wouldn’t have been able to go in the first place.”

“Wait, so–”

“Don’t think too hard about it, princess. You’re prettier when you’re dumb.” You elbowed his side, huffing and stomping forward, frowning as he laughed and followed you. “Aww, don’t be angry with me, sweetheart. You’ll get wrinkles.”

“Good. I hope I do!” He caught up to you, arm curling around your waist and pulling you to his side. He kissed your forehead, directing the two of you to the guest list to sign your names.

The venue was stunning. Tables were shrouded with white cloth, candles and flowers on top as well as plates and cutlery. There was a table at the front of the room–presumably for the bride and groom–that was near a table with a basket full of envelopes. Naoya noticed you staring at it.

“Gifts from the family,” he muttered, moving you through the crowd and to your seat. “Mostly money, not like they need it. My father is giving them a house.”

“A house?!” you whispered back in shock, eyes wide as you stared at him. He snickered at your reaction, licking his lips and turning back to you, prepared to speak.

"There you are." Naoya's smile faded in record time, his back straightening as he looked at the voice. You followed his gaze, seeing an older man with a young woman approaching. His mustache was sharp and gray like his hair. He didn't seem very old, but perhaps it was his proud smile that made him look a bit younger. "It's about time you showed up. The reception's about to start."

"My apologies," Naoya replied formally, giving a bit of an apologetic bow. You furrowed your brow at the display. You hadn't heard this artificial remorseful tone in quite a while. You heard it a lot in the beginning of your friends-with-benefits relationship with Naoya, always him saying how sorry he was for going too rough or for cumming on your face when you told him not to, but after that incident with Toji ghosting you, he hadn't used it. Why was he bringing it back now?

"So formal," the man laughed, patting Naoya on the shoulder. "There's no need to be so stiff today. This is the reception, after all! We got through all that stuffy shit yesterday." Naoya laughed along with him, hands stuffed in his pockets. You furrowed your brow, tapping Naoya's arm, leaning in close.

"What's he mean by stuffy?" you spoke softly.

"The wedding, sweetheart." You turned towards his father, unsure how you felt about the nickname.

"Wedding?" you repeated, looking back to Naoya. He shrugged a bit, not making eye contact.

"The wedding was yesterday—"

"I'm surprised it went so well!" his father chimed in. "Traditional weddings can be such a pain, but everything went without a hitch."

Traditional wedding? Yesterday? Is that what Naoya had gone to? Why hadn't he told you? Did he not want you to know? Why wouldn't he? Didn't he trust you?

"Did you go to the wedding yesterday?" you asked Naoya, smoothing your thumbs along your clutch, dreading the answer. You hated how he laughed nervously, looking away from you.

"Well, I mean, yeah. I had to go; my brother's the groom." Ah, there it was, that detail that you were missing, the explanation for his absence. You felt disappointment curl through you, and your first instinct was to wonder if you had any right to be upset. It was a family event, after all, but the least he could've done was told you where he was going. It wasn't too much to ask your boyfriend to let you know where he was going to be.

"So, are you going to introduce me or are we going to remain nameless for the rest of the evening?" You straightened out, prepared to introduce yourself, but Naoya spoke first.

"Sorry. This is Y/N, my neighbor. Y/N, this is my father."

Your heart dropped suddenly, mouth falling closed as you processed his words. Neighbor? Why did he say neighbor? Why would he introduce you that way? And his tone, it seemed so flippant, uninterested in the topic at hand, as if telling someone who you were was a chore to him. You felt a weight build in your chest, heart pounding as you began to stare off into space, trying to make sense of things.

"Ah, your neighbor. And why did you bring a neighbor along with you? I could've found a pretty little thing to spend some time with you." You saw Naoya shrug out of the corner of your eye.

"It was just easier this way. I don't want to have to spend several hours with an entire stranger."

You felt tears prick at your eyes, your breath coming in short and hollow. Oh God, you could feel it, that familiar bubble in your throat that urged you to cry, to sob and let this pain escape your chest. How could such a small action as labeling you as a neighbor instead of a girlfriend make your heart break like this?

"Well, your brother didn't come with anyone, so try not to make him too envious." His father glanced at you, eyes shifting up and down. "Then again, he may not be." Oh, fuck this.

"I'm going to the restroom," you blurted out suddenly, your sentence almost muddled with how quickly you pushed it out. You swiveled before Naoya could even respond, turning your back to the three of them as you hurried to the restroom. It wasn't far—you had seen it tucked away as you walked in—but it felt like an eternity getting there. You rushed in, finding the first open stall and pushing inside. You locked the door quickly, finally sucking in a breath when you were safe and alone.

Neighbor. God, you could feel the tears start to pool, big globs of salty water welling in your eyes, spilling and falling to the floor. You kept both hands pressed to the stall door, leaning forward and staring at the floor, letting your tears hit the tile freely, splashing and creating little puddles.

Neighbor. Neighbor. Neighbor, neighbor, neighbor. How dare he diminish your relationship like that? After everything you'd been through, all the shit you dealt with, the excuses you made for him, all because you thought you loved him. Jesus, he was supposed to be your boyfriend, he was supposed to care–

God… he wasn't even your boyfriend, was he? You two never used labels, never properly defined the relationship. No wonder he just called you his "neighbor". That's all you were, just a nextdoor neighbor who he fucked and used for emotional support. You didn't mean anything to him; you were just a warm body. Jesus, that fucking hurts. Everything else was just fuel to fire that was raging around you. Maybe you could've dealt with him keeping secrets and his shitty father if you knew he was all yours at the end of the day.

You heard the door swing open, light giggles running into the room, a doting mother following behind. You pressed your lips together, trying to stifle your shallow breaths. You felt humiliated enough: the last thing you wanted was for someone to find you like this, to know that you were breaking down in the bathroom.

"Mama, can we go to the pool after this?"

"I don't know, baby. We might be here for a while."

"A while? Knowing the Zen'ins, this reception will go for hours."

"Keiya, please–"

"What? You know I'm right. Aren't I, girls?"

"Do they have ice cream?"

"I–I want chocolate if they have ice cream."

You stood up, grabbing some toilet paper, dabbing at your eyes. You sighed at the sight of clumped mascara on the tissue. You hoped your makeup wouldn't be totally ruined after this. You folded the toilet paper, bringing it to your nose and blowing, getting rid of all the gunk that was accumulating. The restroom fell into silence, and you cursed yourself for being so loud. Maybe they would leave soon and you wouldn't have to embarrass yourself by facing them. The Zen'in men seemed insufferable enough; you couldn't imagine how the women would act towards an absolute stranger. God, just thinking about them shielding their lips and whispering to each other, giving you dirty looks, made you want to start crying all over again.

"Mommy, there's a lady crying in here."

You sniffed, looking down from your tissue to see two tiny eyes peeking through the slight crack in the stall door. You sniffed again, staring curiously back at what you guessed were two different girls.

"Maki, Mai, get away from there! Don't be rude!" But the girls stayed, eyes locked with yours until they were pulled away. "You can't look at people through bathroom doors; it's impolite!"

"Why's a lady crying, mommy?"

"I don't know, honey, but it's none of our business. You can't do things like that–"

"It's fine," you croaked, clearing your throat quickly. You grabbed another ball of toilet paper, dabbing at your eyes once more before blowing your nose, tossing the paper in the toilet and flushing it away. You opened the door quickly, meeting the gazes of the women and girls, giving a flat smile. "They're fine. It was an honest mistake."

"Really, I'm very sorry–" You waved your hand, your smile disingenuous as you moved to the sinks, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. You'd certainly looked better before, but the damage wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. You had some makeup in your bag: you could easily fix up your under-eyes and–

A hand found your shoulder, causing you to look up and meet the eyes boring into you through the mirror.

"You alright, hun?" No, no you really weren't, not now at least. But you nodded regardless, inhaling sharply and looking down at the sink again, turning on the faucet. The woman squeezed your shoulder, making you look at her again. "You sure?"

Oh God, that was it. You weren't sure why but that's what did it, made the tears come back full force and spill without another word. The woman gave a sympathetic look, sighing as she started rubbing her hand on your back. The soft action made it all feel worse somehow and you hung your head, biting your lip to hold back your sobs. She put her arm around you and pulled you into a side hug, squeezing your arm.

"I'm sorry–"

"Shhh, it's okay, hun. You have nothing to apologize for." You stood there in silence, quietly sniffling and letting your tears fall into the sink. The other woman brought you a cloth towel, handing it out to you. You gave a small smile, taking the towel and dabbing at your eyes.

"Do you wanna talk about it, hun?"

"I… I don't wanna burden you–"

"You're not burdening me, hun. I'm offering to listen."

You wiped your nose, looking at the woman next to you. Yes, she was a stranger, but there was a kindness about her that made you want to open up, to let your feelings out. It's not like you had anyone else to listen to you.

"Well… I came here with this guy…"

Naoya had been lingering near the restrooms for a while now, checking his phone every couple of minutes to see if you had looked at his texts. What was taking you so long? You'd been in the bathroom for at least ten minutes now, probably close to twenty. Naoya knew that women took longer in the bathroom, but this was ridiculous. What were you doing in there, writing a novel?

The women's restroom finally opened, his aunt, Keiko, walking out with her twin daughters. She glanced at him, quickly pulling her girls away to the reception hall. His other aunt, Keiya, came out not too long after, laughing along with a familiar voice.

"Oh, and don't get me started on her ex; that was a nightmare." She quieted, slowing down as her eyes fell on him. "Ah. Naoya." He was going to throw a snarky comment at her, but you appeared behind her, your head hanging down just a bit.

"There you are," he said, stuffing his phone in his pocket and strutting towards you. "I was waiting for you. C'mon, we gotta go sit down, the reception's about to start." He reached out for you, but Keiya stepped forward, putting her arm in between the two of you.

"How've you been, Naoya? Still living off daddy's money?" He glared at her, giving a nasty sneer.

"I'm fine, auntie. How about you? Still a carpet-muncher?"

"Oh, definitely."

"That sounds fantastic. Anyways, if you'll excuse me, me and my girlfriend gotta go to our seats."

"Ah, so now she's your girlfriend."

"Excuse me?"

"Hey," you spoke up, putting your hand on Keiya's, causing Naoya's eyes to narrow at the action. "I should talk to him." His aunt met your gaze.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I can handle it."

"Okay, hun. We'll get a seat for you, okay?"

"Okay," you mumbled, squeezing her hand before she walked away. She and Naoya shared one more dirty look before she turned and went to the reception.

"What the hell was that?" he muttered, moving closer to you, putting a hand on your arm. "Did she do something to you in there? If she bothered you, I swear to God, I'll—"

"No, Naoya," you shrugged his hand off, taking a step away, "she didn't do anything." Naoya frowned, blinking before he reached for your cheek.

"What's the matter? Are you not feeling well or—?" You pulled his hand away from you, eyes still not meeting his, making his heart beat horribly. "Y/N… what's wrong?" You took a deep breath, fiddling with your clutch bag.

"...Do you like me?" Naoya scoffed, lips twitching.

"Course I do. You think I'd treat anybody the way I treat you?"

"...Are we dating?" He blinked, brow furrowing, mind racing. Why were you asking this stuff? What happened in there?

"I mean… yeah, I guess." A silence fell over you, a pregnant pause that made him anxious.

"...Why did you call me your 'neighbor' instead of your 'girlfriend' earlier?" Naoya narrowed his eyes, thinking back on his conversation with his father.

"I don't know, it just came out. Does it matter?" You scoffed, shaking your head as you finally looked at him. Your makeup had changed just a bit; is that why you were in there so long? Were you changing your look? Or were you fixing it…

"Are you ashamed of me?"

"No, of course not, why would you ask that?"

"I'm trying to understand why someone who I thought was my boyfriend said I was just his 'neighbor' to his father, somebody who you usually introduce your partners to—"

"Jesus, is that what this is all about? You're mad because I didn't introduce you as my 'girlfriend' to my dad?" You quieted, pressing your lips together as you stared at him, waiting for his response. He sighed, pressing his finger to his temple. "Look, if you really want me to introduce you as my girlfriend, fine, I will. We can go to him right now and I can tell him—"

"No, no, I don't want that—"

"Then what do you want, Y/N? I'm willing to fix this and you're telling me no, so what do you want?" You stared at him, opening your mouth and closing it, shaking your head slightly.

"I can't do this anymore, Naoya." He rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't be with you anymore." He froze, eyes darting to you, waiting for the punchline.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I can't keep doing this, I can't have this… relationship with you anymore. I don't know what it is but it's killing me and I can't do it." Naoya stared at you, blinking quickly, unsure how to respond.

"I… wait, c'mon, you're not being serious, right?" You didn't respond, staring off into space, effectively disassociating and removing yourself from the situation. He took a step towards you, cupping your cheeks gently. "Babe, c'mon, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean anything by it, just lemme fix it, okay?"

"Naoya," you said softly, pulling his hands away, "when we get back home, I don't want to see you anymore."

"Wait—"

"I don't want to hang out and I don't want to hook up—"

"Y/N, hold on—"

"—this isn't healthy for me. I can't be with someone who doesn't love and respect me—"

"—who said I didn't—"

"—and I can't keep making excuses for you when you don't change! I keep waiting and hoping you'll learn and do better in the future but every single time, you fuck up and we're back at square one and I can't take it." Your voice wavered at the end, head sagging on your shoulders, making Naoya pause. He'd never seen you like this before, at least not for a while. He'd forgotten how much he hated it, hated seeing your face twisting and tears spilling down your round cheeks after someone broke your heart.

"Y/N—"

"I'll give you back the stuff you left in my apartment." You stepped back, putting a bit of distance between the two of you. "But that'll be the last time I interact with you." You inhaled sharply, turning away from him. He hurried in front of you, blocking your path.

"Y/N, wait, calm down. You're just upset, maybe you're hungry or something. Why don't we just sit down and relax for a bit and—"

"I'm sorry, Naoya." You moved past him, walking quickly away so he couldn't catch up. He watched you go, fists clenching at his sides.

"You're being hysterical, Y/N," he raised his voice after you. "You'll come back after you stop acting crazy."

You didn't stop, didn't give any indication that you even heard him as you rushed into the reception hall, disappearing into the distant crowd. He watched you until your figure faded, sighing once you were out of sight. He felt his heart clench in his chest, hard and heavy, like a rock. He tried not to think too much about it.

As you walked through the busy sea of chatty guests and tables, you felt a weight begin to lift off of you. The air didn't feel as stuffy or rigid as you found Keiya and Keiko at a table with her children. And as you sat down at the seat they saved for you, you realized that the heavy knot in your chest would eventually dissipate and that one day you would be okay.

"Do you want a glass of champagne, Y/N?" You smiled, taking a deep breath.

"Yes. Yes, please."

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #chubby reader #fem reader #chubby fem reader #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x fem reader #naoya zenin x chubby reader #naoya zenin x reader #☀️ fics #☀️ scum of the earth au

[lanawinterscigarettes]

how ab peter dating a s/o with witch-like powers? like they can control fire and bring ppl back to life (basically ahs 3 witch powers)

Omg this idea sounds really cool 😯 they'd literally be a power couple hehe (ignore my awful joke sksksk) also I decided to write headcanons instead of a fic, so I hope that's okay <33

Peter Maximoff with a s/o who's a witch

Warnings: swearing, brief mentions of violence/fighting

Peter first saw you one day when he was out taking a stroll in the park

He noticed you kneeling down beside a bird who appeared to have a broken wing

He was about to go over and help when he saw you pick the bird up and cover it with you hands

Once you reopened them, it flew away as if nothing happened

He was bewildered by what he'd just witnessed

Thinking you were a fellow mutant, he approached you and introduced himself

You were a bit wary, having heard stuff on the news about people with your abilities being harrassed, assaulted, or killed, but after he started talking about his mutation and stuff you relaxed a little bit and began to trust him more

He found out that you were essentially homeless; your parents had kicked you out of the house after learning about your powers and you had no place to go, so now you just sort of wandered around, using you abilities to help people whenever you could

After you said this, he blurted out, "do you want to come live with me?"

It took him a couple of minutes to explain the place he was talking about wasn't just his home necessarily, but a place for other people like you who had powers the world was too ignorant to try to understand

You agreed, figuring it'd be worth a shot to try it out

Besides, what left did you have to lose?

Once you arrived, everyone immediately welcomed you with open arms, making you feel at home there

You excelled at your classes and made tons of new friends, too

Not only that, but you and Peter started getting closer until one day, he finally asked you out (you obviously said yes)

He's constantly bragging about you and how cool you are to anyone who will listen

Sometimes you'll have races to see who can get to places quicker, him with his super speed or you with your teleporting

Spoiler alert: you tie every. Single. Time

Speaking of teleporting, sometimes you use it to sneak up on him so you can scare him

*pops up out of nowhere* "Hey Peter"

"JESUS CHRI- WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU COME FROM?!?!"

You like making random objects (specifically stuff that belongs to him) fly across the room just to mess with him

He tries to get you back by hiding some of your things, always forgetting you can easily find them with divination

Actually, he probably does it on purpose, because sometimes he'll hide things just so he can watch you find them again. It never fails to amaze him

"How the hell did you find that so quickly?!? My hiding spot was really good!"

"I used magic, duh"

Occasionally he'll let you use mind control on him (with his consent, of course) just to see what it feels like

"Woah! It's like I'm still conscious and know what's happening, but my brain doesn't have any control over my body. So cool"

You don't get mad often, but when you do it kinda scares him, because he knows just how much power you truly have that you don't let on

Let's say you're on a mission, for example, and somehow he gets hurt

Hell hath no fury like when someone injures Peter, because the next thing he knows the bad guy is writhing on the ground in pain and you're standing over them, victorious

Afterwards, you check on him and make sure he's okay, but not until you're certain the bad guy is down for good and won't be getting up again anytime soon

You do not mess around when it comes to your boyfriend's safety

~

Taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube @nevilleismywhore @xxromanoffxx @your-next-daydream

#mcu #mcu imagines #mcu x reader #mcu headcanon #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel x reader #marvel headcanon #xmen #xmen imagines #xmen x reader #xmen headcanon #x men #x men imagines #x men x reader #x men headcanon #peter maximoff #peter maximoff imagines #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff headcanon #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader

[nicosraf]

hi! lately i have been having problems with my time management and i wanted to ask you how have you been doing so far to get a university degree, books published, to rest and to have leisure time/social life without dying in the attempt? that’s something to be admired !! do u have any advice? 😭

I say this very lovingly but I am the wrong person to ask!!

During ABM, my social life was destroyed, I got zero sleep, and I relied too much on drinking. Do not do any of this. It was at its worst when I was working on the revision at the same time I was writing my thesis, and it did result in me having a meltdown eventually, as well as more drinking. Do not do that!

During A&M, post-graduation, it was a little easier, but I did have a lot of family responsibilities and more thrown on me, so my time management became "write at night", which made me lose sleep. (And post A&M, I've been focusing on repairing my social life sksksk.. Will this PhD destroy my life again while I try to write the third book tho? Perhaps.)

I think my biggest advice I can give you is there is no rush to publish, but also consistency is key. It's okay if you only manage a few sentences in between lecture as long as you write every day, or most days at least. Your book will be finished eventually, don't give yourself a deadline if you feel there's a lot on your plate, just focus on the story, not the publishing.

I think something I personally did was learn to get very good at reading academic papers quickly, half-paying attention during lecture while I write, and then do most of my actual learning talking to professors, asking them about the readings, and admitting I wasn't focusing in lecture (they usually don't mind and understand, to a degree). This is my experience for social science / humanities classes, so it depends on what you study, but I recommend asking yourself what you need to do to pass classes, what you actually want to learn, and how you best learn things, so you can allocate your studying time better.

Again, I don't think I'm the right person to ask how to be healthy juggling so many things, but I think asking yourself whether a good grade in a certain class really matters to you can help you decide on your schedule. I also think turning writing into a social event helps! If you have writer friends then doing sprints together is fun. I hope this is helpful! My only last piece of advice is to please get sleep, do not turn to substance abuse, and do not neglect your health.

#i tried not to turn this into a “rafa gives studying advice” post but a lot of it does come down to learning to be efficient with uni work #and ive said this before but i did in fact almost die while working on ABM #(alcohol poisoning) #i also had a part-time job while working on ABM and that made things a lot worse to be fair #mine #ask

[thorniest-rose]

hello 🖤 out of curiosity what kind of stuff do you consider dark? because i want to write dark stuff for steddie but don’t want backlash. i wonder if what I consider dark is too much, but to know there was an audience for certain things would really help me to go for it. ( for example i love age gaps and want to do 30-40 year old Eddie with teen Steve: dad/babysitter, rockstar/groupie, motorcycle daddy/runaway, teacher/student [dare i say stepfather/stepson sksksk] etc. but have received crit for like, 2 year difference ) and i wonder if it’s the content itself or how it’s handled? because when people write age difference/incest without highlighting how creepy the older one feels it doesn’t *feel* dark if that makes sense. (your eddie is clearly aware of what he is so there’s dark energy to it) but maybe im wrong. i would genuinely love to hear your thoughts. 🖤🖤

hi there!! oh this is such an interesting question, thank you so much.

So what do I consider dark? It's difficult in a way because everyone has different thresholds and comfort levels when it comes to fic, I have a very high threshold and not many triggers. For me, dark fic that I'm interested in reading and writing includes dysfunctional, destructive relationships where there's obsession, jealousy, codependency and control at play, but where both people like it, and don't want to change or have a healthier dynamic or set firmer boundaries. Sometimes I like reading fic about relationships that are abusive and I enjoy reading and writing fic where there's dubious consent (or even non-con) and BDSM relationships where there isn't good etiquette and where there aren't standard things like safewords. Like I love when the sub belongs to the Dom and the Dom calls all the shots and says they know what their sub needs. It's not how relationships should be irl of course, but it's all fantasy.

I love age difference fics too! I would love to write a fic with teen Steve where Eddie's in his 30s, I think that would be so wrong and hot. Like I love all the things and dynamics you've mentioned in your ask! And I think it's such a shame that people feel too frightened to write dark fic a lot of the time, or that they've been made to feel gross and weird for wanting to explore dark and more complex dynamics. Or even just enjoy things without feeling judged for it. So I'm sorry that you want to write fics like this but feel like you can't because of potential backlash. And I wish I could advise more on what things could cause backlash and what won't, because in the past I've had so much hate and abuse for things I've written but in this fandom I've had hardly any abuse at all, so it's really hard to quantify.

I would say this, completely genuinely, that I think you should write whatever you want because you shouldn't have to censor yourself or repress what you want to write. I can guarantee there will always be an audience for it, and people who will be so excited to read darker fic and dynamics. It might be a smaller audience, but it'll be very enthusiastic, and that'll make it completely worth it. If you want to be cautious too, you could have an ao3 account that's separate to your main account to post dark fic, or you could moderate comments. And if you do get shitty people, ignore them and delete any abuse you get. I've found in the past that it's when I give people air and try to engage with them that they get worse. But when I completely ignore them, they get starved of oxygen and give up. And usually if people say anything, it's just a small group of nasty people too, it'll never be as many people as you fear it could be.

There's also the chance that no one will say anything mean and people will love your fics! And if you feel passionately about your ideas, you should go for it! I'm on the cusp of posting a fic that's pretty dark, where intoxicated Steve is being used by multiple men for sex at a party, and the fic I'm writing with Azriel is probably the darkest fic in this fandom, it explores so many uncomfortable topics and will be so dead dove. And because of that we except it to have a smaller readership than a lot of other fics, but we also know the small group of people who do read it will love it, and that makes it so worth it. Plus it's so freeing to finally write a dark fic without feeling like I have to restrain myself, so you should feel free to do it too.

So please, I hope this has helped and encouraged you, even a little. And if you do write any of these fic ideas, let me know because I'd love to read them!!! <3

#asks #tw abuse #tw non-con

[prince-simon]

1 & 4 for the fic writing thing?? :)))

ally! hiii!! thank youuuu

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

someone recently commented that i do himbo wille really well sksksk that made my day so i guess my typical fic is wille having one braincell and he uses that braincell to adore simon ksksk tiff also told me yesterday that i keep creating oc's that are parents that are sooo non-toxic lol so i'll take that as well. add a good chunk of love for the queer community and you got yourself a thatgayprince fic

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

okay well. there's actively writing and then there's wanting to write lmao obviously there's the post s3 fic i'm currently writing on, housed by your warmth (thus transformed) and then of course there's prince simon which i wanna get back to after the s3 fic. then there's an idea i reallyyyy wanna start writing, another au that i kinda mentioned in another ask already. it's gonna be dystopian with a bit of magical realism

but also here's my current list of wips - most of them are kinda on hiatus but all of them live rent free in my head:

lmao so yeah. there you go sksksk

send me a number :)

#writer asks #ask #royalwilmon #writing #young royals

[picnokinesis]

I don't think you reblogged this but I am interested so 1&2 for the same ask game when you have time! Whichever WIP you want.

Oh my days HI GABE!!!! Thank you for the ask!! For everyone else there's a wip questionnaire here by @buffythevampirelover which maybe I'll reblog in a minute if anyone wants to ask me questions about my fan or og projects hahahah

1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?

Okay I'm actually gonna answer this about two different projects because a) I bugged gabe to actually give me a project and he said disarmed sksksk but also b) I have an interesting answer for one of my og projects

Disarmed, first of all - this is a fanfic wip that I'm currently working on (we're on the last chapter now, hurrah!). It's an idea I had in 2021, and I had actually decided that it was officially scrapped/permanently shelved at the start of January....only for me to then sign up to the goreswap exchange and decide to write it anyway SKSK ONLY TO THEN STOP because it got too long so I wrote something else instead.

If you don't like mentions of horrible injuries, I'd recommend stopping here and jumping to the next post on your dash haha.

Disarmed actually originally came about from a very rancid dream I had where the Doctor and the Master were both found in a forest on an alien planet, holding each other's severed arms over their shoulders rip. And so, from there, I ended up drafting this Idea in my brain - and I had this EXCEPTIONALLY clear image in my head of the Master sewing the Doctor's arm onto where his used to be (which...kind of doesn't technically even happen in the story anymore but the imagery remained), and so that was the first thing I created. Which is - actually tell you what, I'm gonna throw that sketch that i did under the cut along with the rest of this answer in case people scrolling don't want to see mild cartoon gore haha. Also this post might get a bit long anyway

Here he is!

So in case anyone wasn't sure, the title is purely there for the pun and always has been hahah

For my og project though - this is a script that I'm not gonna say the name of because I submitted it to a BBC script call HAHA, but it's about a meteorite strike that causes a lot of problems, including giving some people dangerous powers. This idea actually started waaaaaaaay back when I was like, 16yo or so, when I wrote three songs that I wanted to make into a concept album. I'm pretty sure that the first one was actually one called Days Gone By, which I actually filmed myself singing here, back when I had long hair haha, although I think you could argue that the bones of We've Heard It All Before (which is now a complete song - and also YIKES I took this fast, baby taka what are you doing sksksk) came up before any of Days Gone By. How do I know this? I have a ton of old voice notes on my laptop. The interesting thing here is that Days Gone By is actually Plot C in my script and doesn't even come up in the episode that I wrote, which was the pilot, and thus only covers Plot A (Through the Dust and Blood, the third song which I did not film) and Plot B (We've Heard It All Before). Even funnier story - the idea for the original concept album which became the script was ALSO, like disarmed, based on a dream I had HAHAHA (but like, so loosely. I don't think any of the original dream other than the imminent meteorite strike has made it into the final project. Great jumping off point, though!).

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Gonna answer this one about my og WIP script, Onkalo, because this project has some original folk songs that I've written right at the heart of it - and so, naturally, I would have a rendition of Over Onkalo as the intro. I kind of imagine it like, a medley of an instrumental or soundtrack version, so more dramatic and orchestral, but with people singing the song coming in and out of it - and then it would end on just people singing the last line acapella as the rest of the music fades out and theeeeen - titles! Or something like that. If I have to go with a song that's already been written though, I'd probably go with maybe El Búho by Blanco White, or You Are a Memory by Message to Bears.

THANKS FOR THE ASK GABE!! <3

#taka replies #wip questionnaire #gabeorelse #this is fun #onkalo #taka writes #disarmed #uhh honestly not sure what to tag this HAHAH #scripts

[daimyosprincess]

fym the librarian isn't counted it's literally us like 🙄 anyways ship game gimme 14 18 19 27 and 48!!! RIGHT NEOW!! (also maybe add a little 50 for angst 👀)

Ship ask game

Lmfaoooo 😂😂

It makes me so soft to know you guys wanna hear more about Professor Boba and his princess jgslkdjsklgjs anyways here we go

14. Do they enjoy PDA, or are they more private with affection?

Boba is a more private person by nature so he doesn't do overly much in the ways of public displays of affection, saving those for more private times and places while she's more comfortable with PDA but respects Boba's boundaries and doesn't force him to show more than he's willing. He does encourage to voice her wants and needs freely and trusts her to respects his comfort, so if she asks to hold hands or have a kiss in public he'll almost always give it to her

(also I must add that although it's not really PDA but Boba absolutely keeps a hand on his girl's thigh at pretty much all times when he's driving with her in the car 🥴)

18. How do they care for each other when one of them is wounded/sick?

Oh hoo boy if she's not feeling well because she's sick/on her period/having an off day it is absolute princess queen goddess treatment because he cannot stand knowing his babygirl is even the slightest bit uncomfortable (unless she wants to be 😈). If he can't be physically with her, it's phone calls and messages and making sure she has everything she needs as best he can. If he is able to be with her then he is, stopping by between his classes to bring her soup or meds and making sure she doesn't lift a finger. If she's having cramps, he's more than happy to be her personal heating pad, letting her snuggle up against him while he rubs her back.

Miss princess is just as astounded by Boba's superhuman immune system (how is the man never sick??) as she is frustrated at his tendency to put aside his own comfort to power through whatever task he's set before himself, whether that be staying up too late grading papers or not taking it easy at the gym when his knee is giving him trouble. She usually resorts to threatening him with such punishments as not sleeping until he does or putting Fennec on his case, but if she's really concerned about him she'll sit him down to talk about things.

(I have some plans to write a little something about princess taking care of her professor in Volume II of Ex Libris 🤭)

19. Do they wear each other’s clothes/jewelry?

Ok listen I am going insane over the thought of library princess making like a lil friendship bracelet type thing during like a library program or something and giving to Boba just to be cute then her realizing that he's been wearing it every day since dkgjaljggajg

Now since our beloved princess is a reader insert she doesn't have a body size so I can't say she would be able to wear any of Boba's clothes (so it's up to you my lovely readers!) but in a future Ex Libris chapter Boba is going to give her his class ring to wear on a necklace 😭

27. How do they say “I love you” non-verbally?

Answered in this ask

48. Do they talk about their future together? Why or why not?

So far, both of them have just been enjoying their relationship with no real expectations for the future (marriage, kids, etc.) but the way they're building their relationship easily leaves it open to those type of discussions.

Now when the topic of the future does come up and Boba tries to pull the old man card ("don't waste the rest of your life on an old man, princess") just know that she fucks him six ways from Sunday until he gets it through his head that she's not going anywhere without him 😌

50. Would they ever break up? If so, why? Who would handle the breakup better?

@baufraus how dare you bring up angst in a house that enjoys angst (with a happy ending sksksk)?!?!!?

With the strong foundation that the two of them have set, I don't think there's a lot that could break the two apart. Both Boba and princess value and have made communication a cornerstone of their relationship inside and outside the bedroom so if there's something that could possibly be relationship ending, they would do their best to talk about it and figure it out before it gets to that point.

NOW for the true angst: what if for some reason they did break up???? Boba is shutting down internally, just completely closing himself off to any emotion. He's throwing himself into his work and won't see the light of day unless Fennec yanks him out of his office by his collar. He'll carry on but in black and white, without the joyful color his feisty babygirl brought to his life--no more flowers on his dining room table, no more kisses stolen before class, no more laughter snuggled under sheets.

BUT that's never going to happen because library princess is never going to give her man up without the fight of a lifetime 💖

Taglist 💖

(if you don't wanna be tagged in ask stuff just let me know!)

@agirlnamejacq @burningfieldof-clover @marierg @dukeoftheblackstar @imarvelatthestars @saradika @baufraus @historianwithaheart @andrakass2 @samspenandsword @liadamerondjarin @sleepingsun501 @sgt-morgan @rescuethewretched @rexxdjarin @ladytano420 @writingwintermoon @pheo-nixpas-calian @acatalystrising @erinthevampire @xxladysquishyxx @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @kimiheartblade @shinyshayminflower @wings-and-beskar @thirsty-boba-fett-posts @wolffegirlsunite @echocola @100lxtters

#in conclusion i am in tears because i am so in love with them 🥲🥲🥲 #i can't wait to get back to writing them but i must finish my other wip children first #ex libris fic #ask #ask game

[drabbles-mc]

Not Yours Anymore

Steve Murphy x OC Mari Fernandez

For Day 24 of @narcosfandomdiscord's July Smut Challenge: exes having sex

Warnings: 18+, language, smut, hair pulling, alcohol, light angst, Steve being a lil bastard man

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: the way i craft up a new OC and immediately fall in love with her. trust that i WILL be looking for excuses to write more of her in the future sksksk

Narcos Taglist: @garbinge @sizzlingcloudmentality @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @buckybarneshairpullingkink @boomclapxox @nessamc @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @hausofmamadas @narcolini @cositapreciosa (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

There was a moment when Maristela thought that she was hearing things. It’d been so long since she’d gotten a good night’s sleep that she thought she might’ve finally lost it. She tossed and turned, her thick dark curls spreading across the pillow and getting dangerously close to getting in her mouth as she did so. She tried to force herself to just go back to sleep, enjoy what precious little bit of rest she was getting, when she realized that the knocking sound wasn’t stopping. Someone was actually at her door.

She didn’t have to check the time to know that it was too late for visitors. Grabbing her gun off her bedside table, she fumbled her way out of bed and made her way to the other end of her apartment. She was shaking her head the entire way, partly to wake herself up, partly because she was already annoyed with whoever it was, whatever the situation was about to be.

Standing up onto her tip-toes, she glanced through the peephole. When she saw who was on the other side, she sucked in a slow, deep breath. She was reaching for the deadbolt when the knocking picked up again. She almost turned around and left him stranded there off the principle of it.

There was one more forceful knock before she heard him speak up from the other side. “C’mon, Mari.”

Rolling her eyes, she pulled the door open. Steve froze up, fist raised and ready to start knocking again. Her eyes flicked from his hand to his face. “You wake up Señora Sanchez down the hall with that shit, I won’t stop her from beating you with her newspaper.”

Steve meant to have something witty to say in response to that. He was usually better at that, the bitterness that they tried to pass off as the same rough sarcasm everyone used with each other throughout the base. But after everything that had happened that day, and then to show up and see her standing in front of him the way she was, all of his thoughts came to a screeching halt.

Her hair was messy, frizzy from sleep. He knew that she’d been tossing and turning based off that alone. Despite the remnants of eyeliner that were smudged beneath her eyes, darkening her already dark circles, she looked more alert than he’d felt before she opened the door. He saw the way she clutched her gun tightly in her hand. Her finger wasn’t on the trigger, but it wasn’t far from it either.

He could’ve handled all of those details with some semblance of grace. Or at least, whatever he had that was as close to grace as he could get. But then he saw her standing there in one of his old t-shirts. One that had rips along the seam of the collar, one that he was fairly certain she’d told him to throw out on more than one occasion. And yet she clearly hadn’t gotten rid of it either.

When he had stood there staring at her long enough without saying anything, she prompted him. “What, Murphy?”

He snapped out of it at the sound of her voice, more specifically at the sound of her calling him by his last name as she stood there in his fucking clothes. “I don’t think you get to call me that when you’re still wearing my shit,” he said, gesturing to the shirt she was wearing.

Looking down at herself, she scoffed. “You left it behind—not your shit anymore.” She paused, again waiting for an answer, an explanation, that didn’t come. “So? Did you actually finally come to get your t-shirts back or…?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Can I just,” he looked up and down the hallway, like he was starting to worry that your neighbor might come out of her apartment with a rolled up newspaper in her hand, “can I come in?”

She thought on it for a beat longer than she should have before finally stepping back, opening the door a little wider for him to step through. As he stepped past her, Mari could catch the scent of liquor, of cigarette smoke. One of those things was a constant with him, and one of them wasn’t. She put the locks back in place on the door, buying herself an extra couple of seconds, also giving him the same in case he suddenly felt like spitting out the reason he had shown up at her door in the middle of the night.

When she turned back around to face him again, the expression on his face had shifted. He still looked tired, still a little over it. But the edge in his features softened just slightly. Taking the few steps from the door to the center of her living room where Steve was standing, Mari raked her hand back through the mess of hair on top of her head. Steve couldn’t help but to notice the way the hem of his shirt crept slightly higher up her thighs as she did so. He also was too aware to miss the fact that it didn’t seem like she was wearing any shorts underneath it.

“Murphy,” she repeated, “what’s going on? Why…” she trailed off for a moment before deciding that the question didn’t need to be built out anymore. “Why?”

He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to fight the urge to snap back at her. An argument was so inviting. It was easy, and they were good at it. But he didn’t need a fight. “Please, Mari,” each word felt like a herculean effort as he tried to keep his tone in check, “can we drop the agent-officer bullshit for a minute? Please?”

That was the most she could ever remember hearing him say the word please. Stepping away, she went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass for each of them. The clatter of her gun against the counter felt deafening with how silent her apartment was.

“What happened?” she asked as she poured whiskey into both of them, a little more in hers than his.

He shook his head. “I feel like I’m losing my fuckin’ mind.”

She shrugged as she put the bottle away. “You probably are.”

“What the fu—”

“I’m sorry, did you come to your ex’s apartment in the middle of the night looking to be coddled?” she asked, the question as sarcastic as it was genuine. She had no idea what the fuck Steve would want from her at this point. He certainly hadn’t seemed like he wanted anything from her when he left her a few months before, throwing all her things that were at his apartment into a box and dropping it off like a care package.

“I don’t,” he shook his head as he walked into the kitchen, taking one of the glasses she’d poured for himself, “I don’t know. Who else was I gonna go to?”

“You and Peña in a spat or something?”

“He wouldn’t get it,” he mumbled out before taking a sip of the drink in his hand.

Mari shook her head. “I don’t think you get it.” She saw the incredulous look on his face and shrugged before downing more of her drink than she probably should have at once. “What? I still don’t know why you came banging on my door tonight.” She swirled the liquor around in the glass. “What do you want from me, Steve?”

His eyes dropped to the glass in his hand. “I don’t know.”

“Not to be a dick,” she took another sip of her drink, “but you remember that you left me, right? If you wanted middle of the night chats, maybe you shouldn’t have dumped me.”

The lack of fault in her statements stung, but still Steve said, “You still let me in.”

“Want me to kick you out?” she countered without hesitation.

“Mari—”

“Quit,” she waved him off with her hand that wasn’t holding her glass, “fuckin’ saying my name like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you give a shit about me still. Like you’re not just here because you didn’t wanna be alone and you’ve got nowhere else to go.”

“Where do you go when you feel like that?”

The question he asked was not the question he meant. What he meant was who do you go to when you feel like that, but she didn’t correct him. “Nowhere,” she replied honestly. “I buckle the fuck down and get through it. Because the last time I tried going to someone,” she motioned back and forth between them, “we ended up here.”

“Want me to go?”

She let out a deep sigh. “So I can feel extra shitty when you leave and go get in a fight with some guy at a bar somewhere? End up in jail, or the hospital?” She shook her head. “No. You can sleep on the couch.”

The lift in his eyebrows said that he wanted to make a comment about the couch, but he was smart enough to, just this once, keep his commentary to himself. “Thanks.”

“Yea.” She finished off her drink, grabbing her gun before going to leave the kitchen. “Wait here. You can borrow one of my shirts.”

“Your—”

“You left them!” she called back.

Steve had no better judgment left at that point, so he found himself following Mari back towards her room. He assumed that she could hear him behind her, but she didn’t say anything. He lingered in the doorway for a moment as she crossed the threshold. It looked pretty much the same as the last time he’d been there. He watched her as she crossed the room to her dresser. She crouched down, pulling open one of the bottom drawers where, he assumed, she kept whatever shirts he’d left behind.

His brain couldn’t take the time to process the weight of that when he saw the way his shirt rode up, revealing the black fabric and lace that made up her panties. He sucked in a quick breath, the sound much more obvious than he had bargained for. He knew that Maristela heard it, because she was shaking her head as she balled up one of his shirts in her hand and stood back up. She nudged the drawer shut with her foot before turning around.

Steve was completely inside her room now. He was looking around, as though that would make it seem like he hadn’t just been staring at her. She tossed the shirt to him. “Couch is out in the living room, in case you forgot.”

He chuckled, catching what she’d just thrown. “Right.”

She collapsed the distance between the two of them. Looking up at him, she said, “Goodnight, Murphy.”

Dropping his head back, Steve stared up at the ceiling for a moment before letting his eyes close. “Can you not, with that?”

“What?”

Tilting his head back down, he looked at her. He leaned in, towering over her. “You know what.”

“If you wanted to stay on a first-name basis, maybe you shouldn’t have—”

He cut her off by pressing his lips against hers. He felt the way that she didn’t give in for a moment, the hesitation lasting just long enough to make him think that he was about to be on the receiving end of a palm to the face. He wouldn’t really be able to blame her for it. His body tensed up in return as he braced for it, but instead her palm landed against his chest as she finally let herself give into him.

Steve let the shirt she’d just handed him drop to the floor as he brought both his hands to her sides. They lingered for a moment before sliding down over her hips. He pushed the fabric of the t-shirt up, bunching it until the pads of his fingers were grazing across skin instead of cotton. His fingers splayed across her back, sliding down until they were slipping just beneath the waistband of her underwear.

She broke their kiss as he maneuvered her back towards her bed. “You’re still sleeping on the couch,” she said, her breath warm against his skin.

He kissed her again, rough and brief, teeth tugging at her bottom lip just slightly as he pulled away. “No one’s sleeping yet.”

Steve picked her up, all but tossing her onto the mattress. He peeled his shirt off over his head, tossing it aside before undoing his belt and pushing his jeans to the floor. He was down to just his boxers as he climbed up onto the bed, positioning himself over her, slotting one leg between hers. He kissed her, hand creeping up to cup the side of her face for a brief moment before his fingers wound their way back into her hair. He gripped onto her and pulled, earning a moan from her as her eyes shut, her body moving with the force he was giving. She arched her back, her core grinding against his thigh that was between her legs.

He only let go over her so that he could pull her underwear down her legs. Once they were low enough Mari kicked them off the rest of the way. Her legs were trembling with anticipation as his hand snaked up the inside of her thigh.

“Oh my god,” Steve’s words came out somewhere between a whisper and a moan as he trailed his fingers between her legs, feeling how wet she already was.

Mari tried not to think too much about the sound of Steve’s voice in that moment, tried not to let it sink its claws into her the way that it used to. Instead she gripped onto the waistband of his boxers and started to push them down. A distraction but also something that got them closer to the end goal.

Steve was quick to help her kicking out of his boxers and tossing them off the bed. He pulled her legs so that they were wrapped around his waist. His hand came back to the side of her face. He was about to pull her lips to his, thrust into her and lose himself, but she planted her palm flat against his chest. Her arm was stiff, keeping the barrier between them.

Confusion crossed Steve’s face. “What—”

She answered with her actions instead of her words. Shifting her hips and pushing against his chest, she easily maneuvered the two of them so that their positions were reversed. Steve was flat on his back beneath her, Mari left straddling his waist. He looked up at her, eyes a little wider than they had been. The smirk that was curling the edge of his mouth made Mari’s thoughts get fuzzy for a moment before she remembered the reality of it all.

His hands found purchase on her waist, gripping tight as he lined her up with him. Her palms were flat against his chest, fingertips setting into him just slightly as her eyes raked down his entire body until they reached the point where they were about to be connected. She felt the delicious dig of his grip as he pulled her, thrusting into her.

She would’ve hated how easily they found their rhythm again if it didn’t feel so good. Steve’s hands ran up her back, her fingers curling over the curves of his shoulders as her hips rolled against his. She could feel the tension in Steve’s muscles, the way he was fighting to have any semblance of self-control. His eyes roamed over her body and face. For as much as he was losing himself in the feel of her, all the sensations he thought he’d never get to experience again, he couldn’t help but to soak up the look of her too. The way her jaw was a little lax, the way her hair was starting to fall in front of her shoulders. Maybe he didn’t have the right to be looking at her like that anymore, but then again he didn’t have a right to be doing most of what he’d done already so he might as well go for broke.

Mari moved her hands from his shoulders. Steve watched as she brought them to the bottom hem of the shirt she was wearing. She was about to take it off, easily slip it off over her head and toss it aside with everything else. Before she could, Steve reached out and stopped her, grabbing tightly onto her wrists. She stilled as she looked down at him, traces of confusion lingering in her features along with everything else.

His voice came out low, raspy as he said, “Leave it on.”

She hated that he said it like that. Hated even more that it sent a jolt right to her core to hear it. She listened, though, relinquishing the fabric from her grip. She shook her head at Steve, leaning down to bring her lips to his in a kiss. Right before she did, she muttered out a quiet, “Motherfucker,” before locking her lips onto his.

Once she leaned down to kiss him, Steve wrapped his arms around her. He kept her close, feeling her hips move against his as her tongue slid along the inside of his bottom lip. In that moment the mess of everything was blotted out. It was just her pressed against him, all of the complications of it gone for the time being. Life outside the four walls of her bedroom didn’t exist and they were both better for it.

He could feel that she was getting close, the whines she let out, the intensity of her movements. Steve gripped onto her hair again, pulling her head back just enough so that he could get access to her neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin there. He felt the way Mari’s nails dug into him in retaliation, but it only served to help pull him over the edge with her. His other hand glued itself to her hip as he came, pinning her as tightly to him as he could manage as he spilled into her.

She was breathless as she let herself collapse against him. All the tension in her muscles was gone. Her head dropped, forehead pressing against Steve’s shoulder close to where her nails had dug before. Both his hands drifted to her back, wandering over the fabric of the shirt she still had on.

After a few minutes of quiet between them, they each caught their breath. Mari carefully separated herself from Steve, flopping onto the mattress beside him. She was staring up at the ceiling and she could feel him looking over at her.

“You still have to sleep on the couch,” she said, draping her arm across her forehead.

He chuckled. “You sure?”

“Positive.” Her eyes shut, heart still racing faster than it should’ve been in her chest.

“Fine. Gonna keep the shirt you gave me, though.”

She shook her head as she watched him slip back into his boxers and grab the shirt from the floor. She huffed out a quiet laugh as he made his way back towards the door. “Night, Steve.”

He was glad she couldn’t see the small shift in his expression as he registered the words. “Night, Mari.”

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[roguestorm]

So me and my friend were discussing characters we didn’t like, and Scott came up and my friend really doesn’t like Scott…BUT something I wanted to ask you about was a point my friend made. He says one of the main reason why he doesn’t like Scott is because he feels like he is lowkey misogynistic/is often written that way. The examples he brought up is that Scott leaves/cheats on women when he doesn’t need/want them anymore. like how when he was married to Maddie in X-factor and Jean came back he cheated on her with Jean. He then cheated on Jean with Emma in New X-men, and now in the Krakoa era Scott left Emma to be with again Jean. I just wanted to know your opinion on it because I’ve never thought about it in that way before sksksk

Well, first of all, that’s just textually not true. He absolutely did NOT cheat on Maddie with Jean. He also did not leave Emma for Jean; he and Emma broke up back in like 2013 while Jean was still dead.

The one that is textually true is the Jean/Scott/Emma situation in New X-Men. And here I’m going to pin it on the writer, because Morrison is a misogynist and I think it absolutely permeates their writing. Thinking about what Morrison has said about the Jean/Scott situation just makes me so, so incredibly angry. It’s a deeply misogynistic story written by a deeply misogynistic writer in a way that makes Scott look deeply misogynistic!!! I hate it.

And that’s where it’s like actually possible to make a case for Scott as a misogynist, because different readers are going to put different weights on different comics runs. For me, NXM is an aberration that goes against everything the X-Men stand for and the misogyny is only part of that. For me, the fact that Scott is written for much longer as a supportive partner to Emma and Jean and as someone who generally respects his female teammates and friends is going to be more important than the bad characterization in a run written by someone whose writing I have very little respect for.

(Sorry, I’m incapable of objectivity or civility when it comes to NXM, it just upsets and angers me so much.)

But for other readers, especially for people who’ve read less of the Claremont run or who started with the Morrison run (a common recommendation, for some goddamn reason), that characterization of Scott might colour their perception of the character overall.

I have my opinion and biases, of course. I happen to like uptight leaders who are no fun most of the time but sometimes smirk really sexily in private. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But a big part of being a comics fan is negotiating different interpretations of a character (or an event) and trying to come up with a coherent understanding. And because it’s always a negotiation, people are going to come up with different understandings, and that’s just part of being a fan of the medium! It certainly gives us plenty of things to argue about online. :)

#asks #Anonymous #x men blogging #ch: we don't get to quit