#relationship built on a lie from the start | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

abbyromanoff · 6 months

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Can I request a top! Jane Banner x fem!reader, with angst,smut and fluff at the end, where, reader is a new police and Jane is her superior & she take a like in reader months later but try to hide it, making reader feel bad then you can do the rest as you want

HATE ME? OR LOVE ME?

PAIRINGS: Jane Banner x reader

WORD COUNT: 3,220

WARNINGS: smut, love hate relationship, kinda enemies to lovers, angst, Jane hiding her feelings, cunnilingus, pet names, r getting stood up, making out, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, top!Jane, fluff, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“That’s the problem, Y/N, you can never do anything right!” The words rang through your mind on repeat. Your superior was the one who spit them, letting her built-up anger rise to the point of overfilling, and you were the one to suffer. You knew she despised you, and if it was up to her, you wouldn’t have been hired in the first place. You didn’t mind, you were used to being disliked throughout your life and came to an acceptance of the fact. And it wasn’t because she was your boss that it affected you so much, it’s because you liked her in ways you shouldn’t like your higher supervisor.

She would watch your every move, each step haunting her mind. You expected it was so she could find an excuse to report you and see you go, but it was really because she just wanted to admire you any chance she had. You wouldn’t understand, which is why she kept quiet. It pained her to see you frown, but she couldn’t let herself get as close as she wanted to. So, instead of remaining neutral, she decided to take her frustration and fill your heart with the hurtful words she’d mutter.

People suggested you report her, but you didn’t want to. You’d rather take the glares than see her separated from you, or even worse, be forced to leave for good. You instead took to ridding yourself of the sleep you needed and thriving on the suffering you enforced, all while she painted your mind. You couldn’t even focus on the comments, only focusing on the beauty that expressed them. That’s what you hated most, that you couldn’t hate her.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but if your other person doesn’t arrive in the next five minutes, we’ll be forced to remove you. Unless you’d like to place your order, that is.” The waiter smiled apologetically, and you guessed he had dealt with this before, a guest being stood up and holding hopes they’d arrive. You were ready to give up and leave with a small apology for wasting their time, that was until you noticed a woman stepping forward.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jane looked in your direction, her eyes widening at your low-cut dress. You looked so beautiful, just like you always did.

“Y/N, nice to see you here.” You rolled your eyes with a groan, handing the menu to the waiter before standing. She furrowed her brows slightly, nodding the man off as you tried to walk past her, only for her arm to grasp your shoulder in an attempt for you to stay.

“Woah, relax now,” She started. “Where do you think you’re going?” You took a deep breath before turning, eyeing the woman with a clenched jaw.

“Home. Why, you going to follow me there too?” She chuckled, releasing her grip when she realized she didn’t have to force you to stay.

“I just might.” There was a short beat of silence before you blew a breath, getting ready to leave before she repeated her actions.

“Alright, what do you want? I’m off work hours, you can’t keep me.”

“Gosh, don’t be such a fucking bore. You got stood up, so I was trying to do the right thing and ask you if you’d like to join me instead.” You didn’t believe her, there was no chance she had good intentions when it came to you. She hated you, why would she ever want to change that?

“What, so you can make up a lie that you need to pee so I’ll end up being stuck paying the bill?” She remained relaxed, refusing to feed into your annoyance and letting you get a reaction. She got hers already, now you were just dying to get some sort of revenge.

“Look, I know we don’t get along all the time-“

“We never do. Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking dick, I’d actually be willing to strike up a conversation with you.” You stated calmly, and she tightened her grip at your interruption. No one interrupts her, especially when you’re beneath her. But, she let it go past her, maintaining a tense smile as she pointed to her seat. There were only two chairs, either she was on a date or was eating alone. And with her lack of empathy, you guessed it was the latter.

“Well, maybe this is me trying to redeem myself. C’mon, you know we both have nothing better to do. I’m waiting for my mother to arrive, and you’re going home alone.”

“How do you know I’m going home alone? Maybe I’m going home to my wife and kids, maybe I’m going home to my family, maybe I’m going home to my cat-“

“Alright, I get it. If you really have places to go then you wouldn’t have been waiting for your date to show up for half an hour. But, if you really don’t want to, then you can leave.” You debated between your options, dinner with a woman who hated you, or going home to imagine being with the same woman. She’d hold you tight on the couch, kiss your forehead while your legs laid across hers. Her soft giggles showing her whitened pearls. Then she’d kiss you goodnight as she tucked you into bed, joining you soon after and returning her arms to their righteous spot around you.

You blinked twice, trying to register that you were in fact forced to live in the present time when all you wanted was to experience the daydreams you escaped through.

“Fine, I’ll stay. But don’t think I wanted this.” She smirked, letting you sit before pushing your chair in. You saw your previous table being occupied by a happy couple and smiled sadly, wishing you were taking their current places. You didn’t care for the view the seat had, but the one they each held was better than anything.

“Can we get the Le Medoc De Cos wine for the table, please?” You failed to understand how she didn’t miss a single beat, she must be a regular.

“Of course, ma’am, is there anything else I can start the two of you with?” He turned his gaze to you respectfully, and you grinned warmly.

“Uh, I’ll just have a glass of water, please.” He nodded and returned to the back where you assumed he was preparing the carefulness of the wine.

“You don’t order water at a restaurant like this, dumbass.” She scowled while her eyes remained on the menu, occasionally letting her eyebrows lift in a small excitement as she read the ingredients.

“Well, I think we both know I don’t have the funds for the wine you got.” It was true, you were only just starting a few months ago and were still considered young by most, it was nearly impossible for you to make the same as her.

“You’re not paying the bill, don’t worry about prices.” Your eyes widened as you looked at her dumbfounded. She lowered the paper and returned your gaze, making you evert your own slightly.

“We’re cutting this in half, I’m not letting you pay the bill and then use it against me for the rest of my life.”

“Oh my fucking God, will you relax with the assumptions? I’m not that big of a bitch, no matter how much you think I am.”

“I would calm yourself on the language, young lady.” Jane turned to see where the voice came from, only to sigh as her Mother came into view. She gave a tight-lipped smile and stood, giving the older woman a small hug and resting her hands on her arms.

“It’s great to see you, Mom.” She brushed her off, pulling out her chair as your boss was left stranded. She gulped, glancing towards you as you gave a small greeting to the guest. She took your hand with a small shake, something Jane rarely saw.

“Sorry for the intrusion, I’m your daughter's coworker and we happened to be dining in at the same place tonight.” She looked to her child for more description, and you feared you spoke wrong.

“Y/N here got stood up tonight and I thought I’d do the right thing and invite her to eat with us, I hope you don’t mind.” The reminder brought a roll to your eyes before you disguised it with a clearing of your throat, catching the attention of both.

“Oh, not at all! It’s lovely to meet you, dear.” The entire dinner went on with minimal chatting, you started to assume you were intruding on their special night. You grabbed your phone, excusing yourself to the bathroom with shaky hands. You refused to lift your gaze for the entire walk until you reached the door. When inside, you placed your hands on the marble countertop and sighed, letting the tension from the week release. Suddenly, you heard the door open with a small squeak and turned, only to see Jane looking back at you.

“Please don’t leave.” Confusion wrote itself across your face before you chuckled softly, shaking your head in disbelief.

“And why is that?” She licked her lips and bit them softly, knotting her arms together as they laid across her chest.

“I can’t stand that woman and I definitely don’t want to deal with her alone.” She admitted, but you didn’t understand her hatred for her mother. You picked up on the small comments throughout the dinner, but you guessed it was playful nature when she’d give a small laugh in response, only now did you realize they were most likely fake.

“And…I guess I enjoy having you there to, you know, ease the awkwardness.” You were planning on cutting the meal short for yourself, but you understood her request. Even if she was technically using you, you didn’t want her to suffer through something like this, you still cared for her.

“Fine, I’ll stay.” She seemed relieved by your response and rushed forward to greet you in a grateful hug, only to come to her senses moments later.

“Oh, right, uhm- sorry.” She gave you one last smile of appreciation before exiting, returning to her awaiting mother.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I was just checking in on them.” She took a bite of the food, instantly regretting the action as the heat filled her senses.

“You know, you two make a really cute couple.” Not only was it hot, but now Jane was nearly choking on the steak. She pressed her fist against her chest a few times before clearing her throat.

“Uh, we’re- we’re not dating, Mom.”

“Look, I know you don’t believe in love, and trust me, after your father, I thought I never would either. But, love comes random, you can’t choose who you fall for. Besides, I may be old but that doesn’t mean I can’t spot the sexual tension between you two.” The sudden outburst sent heat waves to your boss's cheeks.

“Mom! There is no sexual tension between us! They hate me, if anything, I’m a complete dickbag to them.”

“Because you don’t want to accept that your dream of being alone forever is fading into something new. So, please, do me a favor and stop being a baby.” She saw you stalking back out of the corner of her eye and grinned as she stood. Jane was still stuck in thought, her forehead creased together as she, once again, started to bite her lip.

“Well, I believe I should be leaving now. It was so lovely to meet you, dear, I know me and my daughter loved your company.”

“Awh, you’re leaving already?” You brought her in for a short hug while she nodded, turning to her daughter to say a short goodbye. You wondered why she didn’t do the same with her as she did with you, but you brushed it off.

“Alright, I’ll ask the waiter for a box, are you saving your food?” Her Mother was now out of the building and you could get rid of your facade. She shook her head as she came back to her senses, your voice filling her ears as they dinged in excitement.

“Why not get a dessert? I mean, we’re already here, no point in leaving yet.” You eyed her with suspicion and she only pestered on.

“Seriously, what the fuck is up with you? Why are you being nice all of a sudden?” Her mother's words rang in her head once again as she got a true, genuine look at you. She always thought you were a heaven-sent piece of artwork, but now you looked ever more angelic. She didn’t know how you did, but you did.

“I just want to get dessert, is that so bad?” You huffed out a breath and examined the menu, your mouth watering at the descriptions. When the waiter came over, he kindly took your requests along with the papers. There was a silence that roamed over the both of you, Jane found it comforting. She knew you probably didn’t feel the same, but being able to have a moment with her thoughts that filled of you was always her peace.

“Dove chocolate cheesecake for you, ma’am,” She smiled in appreciation and took the dish before he turned to you. “And the chef’s special Tiramisu for you, Miss.” You repeated Jane’s movements, leading him to stand over the table with his hands together in front of him.

“Would you or your wife like anything else before I hand over the bill?” You blanked for a moment, chuckling awkwardly to yourself as you glanced up at him.

“Oh, we’re not-”

“Yes, actually. Would we be able to have a refill of their water, please?” You turned to look at her now, tilting your head to the side as she acted oblivious. He nodded and returned shortly with your new glass and the bill. You examined the total with widened eyes.

“The lady with you paid for half already.” He stated before leaving the two of you.

“Why didn’t you correct him?”

“For what?”

“Don’t play dumb, for saying you’re my wife.” She shrugged with a mouthful of her food, leading you to eventually give up and bask in the flavors the dish greeted you with.

The two of you were walking out of the restaurant, Jane holding the door open for you and leading you to your car. She hoped you parked as far as possible, just so she could get an extra few minutes with you. Her hand longed to interlace with yours, but she held back in fear.

“I hope you enjoyed tonight.” She spoke when you stopped in front of the vehicle she recognized as yours. You nodded with a thin line on your mouth before she said her goodbyes. She turned around with a sigh before stopping herself when she heard your voice.

“Yeah?” She saw you stalking forward, your head down until your body was mere inches from hers.

“I actually did enjoy tonight, thank you for inviting me.” She smiled gently when you lifted your head to glance at her, her impulses failing her as she placed her hands on your hips and drew you in. Her lips touched yours in a soft, searing manner as you sunk into it.

“W-what?” She gulped fearfully, pulling away as your hooded eyes searched hers.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to-” Her words were cut short as you pulled her back in, groaning as her body molded against yours. She placed her hands on your bottom, smiling gracefully as her tongue was granted entrance. She pushed you against the hood of the car, feeling your arms wrap around her neck while your thighs parted enough for her to place her knee between them. You instinctively grinded against the soft skin that greeted you, resulting in a muffled moan to escape.

“Wait-” She furrowed her eyebrows as she rested her forehead against yours, instantly following your request.

“I don’t want to do this here. Will you come home with me?”

Her slender fingers drew in and out of you in a hurry, her hot breath fanning across your face as you mumbled out pleas. She found her gaze falling to the connection between you two, shuddering as your tight hole accepted a third digit. Your legs wrapped around her form, your chest heaving with every inhale. Your nipples hardened from the gush of wind before a gasp left you, Jane’s wet mouth finding it as her free hand led yours to the neglected breast. You toyed with the hard bud, fluttering your eyes shut as you bit your lip.

“No, let me hear you, baby.” She dreamed of hearing everything you released, she wasn’t going to let that be stripped away from her.

“Jane-” Her name wasn’t her favorite word, but hearing your soft whine made it a blessing to her eardrums. Her clit throbbed in delight, begging to meet yours.

“Yeah?” Her jaw was now resting on your shoulder, her lips right next to your ear as she left pecks down your neck. She hoped they’d leave a mark, just so everyone would know you belonged to her now. But, in reality, you always have.

“Need to cum- fuck! I need it so bad.” Your fingertips came to scratch at her scalp softly, your legs starting to shake the closer you got. Your coil tightened the more you held back, yet it begged to let go.

“I need you, Jane.” The stumbled sentence brought a stall to her movements. She only continued her thrusts when a whine bounced off the walls, the creator being the person beneath her.

“I know, I need you just as bad, darlin’.” She felt liquid spray against her crotch as you cried out, clawing at any part of skin you could grapple onto.

“Oh, God, ‘feels ‘o good!” Your babbles brought a dark chuckle to the woman. She thrived on the fact that she was the reason you were like this. You were no longer crying from her harsh words, you were crying from how good she made you feel.

“No, no, we’re not done just yet,” She informed when noticing you tried squeezing your legs shut.

“Don’t be embarrassed, love, I find it so fucking hot that you squirted for me, makes me so, so wet.” Your cheeks reddened, your eyes unable to meet hers when her finger came in contact with your chin. You hadn’t noticed her pulling out of you, the bliss of the moment being too heavy for your mind to keep track of your surroundings.

“Don’t you taste fucking heavenly?” She forced you to suck the sweet nectar coating her digits, chuckling as you gagged when they hit the back of your throat. You moaned around them, suckling every last drop.

“Spread ‘em, angel,” You whimpered, shaking your head in disagreement. “I said, spread ‘em, you can take another, you will.” You obeyed slowly, feeling her fingers instantly spreading your folds as her tongue came in contact with your sensitive bud.

“More, baby, I want you to struggle.” Her lips instantly wrapped around your clit, the sounds of your juices being evident as she sucked harshly.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

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tteokdoroki · 9 months

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✩࿐TRACK 01: RIGHT HERE. katsuki bakugou (2K)

about. leaving katsuki bakugou was the hardest thing you’ve ever done. pretending that you no longer love him every time he calls is even harder.

warnings. minors and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, slight angst, fluff, hurt-comfort, happy ending, break ups, mentions of harassment, exes to lovers, pro hero + fem!reader, pro hero!bakugou.

things to note. yay !! the first fic of the series !! idk im really excited about these and they were super fun to write. i hope you guys enjoy <3 - masterlist / series masterlist / playlist ✩

leaving katsuki was probably the hardest thing you’ve had to do in all your years of living.

being one another’s first loves, you feel like you owe a piece of yourself to him. the relationship that you founded together leaving high school had taught you so much, about yourself, about him and about how the world worked. it was comfortable with katsuki, he knew you liked the back of his own hands — what made you smile the way he liked, what made you laughed in the way that made his stomach twist with a joyous emotion he didn’t even know he was capable of, what made you squirm and what made you pissed off, too.

and as you navigated the challenges of adulthood, grew into your lives and yourself — stretched the skin around your bones to spread your wings you realised that overtime, katsuki made you sadder than he made you happier. you made him feel angrier than he made you feel calm.

neither of you were prepared to let go, holding onto frayed ends of a love that had built up your confidence and set you on the course for the rest of your lives. but to say it ended on good terms would be a lie too. you needed an out and took the first one you saw, a friend on the other side of the country was starting an agency on their own and needed a partner. you knew it would hurt bakugou more than anything, so perhaps, that’s why you did it.

you left in the middle of the night to fulfill the dream you and the blonde had come up with together — with someone else.

of course, leaving him behind wasn’t easy and it still isn’t. cutting katsuki completely out of your life wasn’t a viable option and at least not for long, three months after your big move he came across your agency on the news following a huge rescue and shift in the hero rankings. katsuki was proud of you, he missed you, dialled up your agency to tell you himself and for some reason you found yourself clinging onto his every word not knowing that he felt the same.

you couldn’t forget about him, your golden boy and his golden smile that made heat spread through all four chambers of your heart and blood rush through your ears to the point where you were dizzy. bakugou was your day and he was your night, each of you taking turns returning from patrolling shifts that ran late for two semi-pro heroes like you — practically running into one another’s arms.

in another universe, it would still be that way for the both of you — but katsuki was bad for you, and you inevitably worse for him. even if you’d found new soil to settle your roots in, you secretly hoped that bakugou would come find you in every single timeline, every single world either of you existed in.

maybe that’s why you kept in touch despite the dates you went on to get over him. maybe that’s why emails turned to texts and texts turned to phone calls that centred around reminiscing the past — the songs that you shared and the plans that you made. together.

“how’s that boyfriend of yours?” bakugou grunts absentmindedly, the gruffness of his voice evened out by the static on his end of the phone. from the corner of your eye, you watch on the screen as he slips through your old kitchen easily — knowing where everything is, knowing that he used to pin you up against those counters, knowing that he used to corner you while making coffee and...

you shake your head, popping it into view so that the blonde can see you roll your eyes in mock annoyance. “he’s not my boyfriend… just a friend from work.” you still have no idea why you lie to bakugou like that, actively pretending that your dating life isn’t flourishing. you tell yourself that it has nothing to do with the fact that you still want him. even though it never works out when you lead each other back into bed whenever you get the chance. “what are you making?” you ask, to distract yourself.

“he likes you though.” katsuki returns from the fridge and steps into frame to show you the pack of tofu you know that he likes to cook with. you could have probably found it in your local convenience store with your eyes closed at this point. but you didn’t want him to know that you still remembered all of the little things about him. his likes, dislikes, hopes and dreams. “s’that tofu recipe fuyumi gave me back in high school. the one that makes ya—“

“the one that makes me shit my guts out, yeah. thanks for the reminder, bakugou.” you huff, glaring at the phone and wander into your own kitchen, subconsciously. probably to feel a little closer to your ex. “he doesn’t like me. how would you even know that?”

“hah? bakugou? what happened to katsuki?”

“don’t change the subject.”

the swell of bakugou’s lush lips press into a thin line and you can just about make out his pout as you set the phone down to make yourself a fucking drink because you really can’t do this. you hate that you still seek him out in your darkest hours, when you’re alone in this city and it feels like the world is slowly turning against you.

you’d turned off your television hours ago to avoid hearing the news. deleted the social media apps off your phone, too. called bakugou to fill the silence of your home with something soft, familiar like the deep depths of his voice. he provides a distraction that the chaos in your brain recognises, watching katsuki cook in that same old flat you rented right after going pro soothes the tensions in your body.

his tatted arm with the sleeve flexes as he skilfully wields the sharpest knife from the set you gifted him on his twenty first. his crystallised ruby eyes squint and his nose scrunches in that adorable way as he reads the cooking instructions on the tofu even though you know that bakugou knows how to prepare it off by heart.

all of these little things about katsuki make you feel at ease even though you’re worlds apart and taking your lives into different directions.

“what happened today wasn’t your fault,” his timbre voice was over the line, grasping at the straws of your attention. you hadn’t realised you’d been zoning out when katsuki snaps his fingers at you. “quit that. ‘m talkin’ to you.”

“don’t snap at me, i’m not your dog.”

katsuki looks like he’s about to make a comment, but refrains when you scowl at him over the FaceTime call. “yeah but you weren’t listening to me, i know why you called me. saw it on the fuckin’ news, but i wanted you to hear from the resident fuck up that this’ll all blow over. the media is just shit.”

even through bakugou’s brashness he still helps you lick at your wounds like you’re still his. “i hope so,” you sigh quietly and pick up your phone so that you can get a closer look at his expression, concern etched into his features. “being a pro hero decking a fan in the face doesn’t exactly instil confidence.”

“he was a creep who’s been stalkin’ you for months. he fuckin’ deserved it. if you hadn’t,—“

“dynamight would’ve, my hero.” even though your tone is sarcastic, bakugou can tell that you’re thankful, that you mean it. he never liked that you were always one to suffer quietly, let the world walk all over you as if you weren’t worth standing tall and being proud of yourself. in some ways, the blonde wanted to be your hero — not the world’s. he wanted to stick up for you where you couldn’t even if he was defending you from yourself.

you hated him for it, he loved you through it. perhaps that’s why your relationship was always falling from grace.

bakugou knows that you’re struggling to keep it all together, lock up all your troubles and throwing away the key with the hopes of never seeing them again. he knows that you carry that weight and that you’ll collapse if there isn’t someone to help you bear the burden.

so he tentatively reaches out, metaphorically crosses that line you’d drawn after ending things, because you’re in need. “yanno, if you need me, i’m right here.”

it’s like his words have snapped you back into reality, and you shoot him a look over the call. “katsuki, you shouldn’t say that.”

“why not?” he quips — you almost miss it over the sound of his food sizzling as he begins to cook.

“we’re not together anymore… we’re broken up. it’s weird.”

“it’s not weird to look out for friends.” bakugou snarls gruffly, though he’s all bite and no bark — mostly embarrassed by your rejection. “you think just ‘cause ‘m not callin’ you mine and giving you head every night anymore, i don’t wanna be here for you?” but of course he still finds a way to make the conversation go lewd, to fluster you. “i told you that wouldn’t change. broken up or not...what? what’s with that face. don’t make that face, sweetness.”

a hand comes up to mindlessly touch at your face and brush over your lips, you don’t even realise that you're pouting.

“katsuki i’m serious.” you say, whining like a child.

“and so am i.” your ex mumbles right back and you can see his tongue running over his teeth from behind his plump lips — just barely holding back a cocky smirk.

“you’ll only make this harder.”

“we’ve never been easy.”

“we’re supposed to be moving on from each other.”

“you’re the one who called me, sweetness.”

“that doesn’t mean—“

“you miss me.” bakugou has always been brutally honest but that doesn’t mean you’re prepared for him to hit you with the truth. it’s like a punch to the gut that makes the world start spinning and your heart stop beating. you do miss him, you always will — he’s all you’ve ever known even if it’s been years since you last embraced his love. what you have now has teetered on the blurred line of friendship and love, it’s far from normalcy. but tonight you feel like letting yourself fall a little harder, return to your old ways. “s’okay. i miss you too.”

static echoes between your phones during the call, breaking the pocket of silence yourself and katsuki find yourself basking in.

“you mean it?” you question the blonde tenderly. the world has been so tough on you lately, you’re not sure if you could handle bakugou breaking your heart again. or you breaking his. “you’re not just…playing with me like you used to.”

“i’m being serious, sweetness.” you can tell that he means it, genuinity etched into his voice as it reverberates through your kitchen. “i’m by your side through everythin’, thick ‘n thin just like i promised.”

“yeah well so am i.” you mock his little quip from earlier and it makes him smile — brightly, the corners of his lips just touching his ears and the red in his eyes shimmering with a familiar affection you truly have missed so much. promises were easily broken, but bakugou’s made good on every one that he’s ever made for you. including this. “katsuki…”

he tests the waters, dipping into your old routine with an air of hope about things. “yeah, baby?”

“will you come see me?” you bleat, picking up the phone as if it’ll bring you any closer to him. “i need you.”

“if you need me, i’ll be there.” bakugou whispers without missing another beat.

he doesn’t care what he has to do, what either of you have been through — you called because you needed him, because the world had put you on your knees and you were losing yourself in the mess of it all.

katsuki bakugou books the next flight out to see you, intending to keep his promise to you.

no matter what, for you, he’ll always be right here.

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oharaslover · 4 months

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still beating

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: cheating, pregnancy, mention of abortion, brief mention of sex, asshole mig, and angst

author’s note: i had the urge to write some angst but i’ll be getting back to requests after this one. idk if i wanna make a second part yet 😭

word count: 4.1K

You felt your heart wrench in your chest, the pieces slowly starting to shatter when you opened the door to see Miguel with another woman in your bed. The container of cookies that you'd been planning on surprising him with fell to the floor, crumbs clattering all over the floor beneath your feet. All you could do was just stare in horror as the man who claimed he loved you thrusted into another woman with a newfound vigor that he never seemed to have with you.

You looked over at the woman bouncing on his cock like there's no tomorrow, your eyes widening at the realization of who she was. She was one of the recruits who'd been too flirty with your man, batting her lashes and trailing her hand up his arm every time he was in her vicinity. You'd expressed your concerns to him, getting pushed away with a laugh and a kiss on the cheek. "Come on, she's just an apprentice. Tu sabes que nomas tengo ojos para ti," he used to tell you and you willingly believed the words. (you know i only have eyes for you)

The first time that you noticed him acting weirdly was in a mission against one of the vulture variants, taking the extra time to make sure that she was doing okay. He'd helped her in a way that he'd never helped other recruits, not even you when you were starting out. He spoke to her in a reassuring manner, assuring her that the fate of the multiverse didn't lie solely on her mistakes. It was a clear contrast from the way that he used to teach you, telling you that your mistakes could cost the lives of thousands and even ruin the delicate equilibrium between the universes. You wanted to assure yourself that you were being jealous just because of the way that you acquired a relationship with him, but you couldn't help but notice the longing glances that she gave him.

"Miguel, I don't trust that recruit. She looks at you like a love sick puppy," you told him, hoping that he would take your feelings into consideration and create some distance between them. “You're overreacting, mi amor. You know that there's nobody that could make me feel the same way that you did. I even left my ex-girlfriend for you, so why do you think that I would give that up?" He responded, holding your chin in his grasp as he gave you a kiss on the cheek. "Are you even listening to me? I’m not saying that i'm worried about you, I'm just worried about the way that she keeps looking at you," you tried to elaborate but he simply ordered you to get back to work.

You could see the way that she dumbed herself down to receive more help from Miguel, shooting a wink in your direction every time that she managed to pry him away from you. You felt powerless, unable to prove the fact that the woman was obviously feeling an amount of attraction towards Miguel. Even if you could prove it, you weren't too sure that he would even care about how you felt towards the situation. So you simply pushed every red flag that came your way, silently hoping that she wouldn't be stupid to try anything with him. You could see the carefully crafted walls he'd built around himself crumbling with every giggle that came out of her mouth, your hopes only slowing down what seemed to be the inevitable.

The conversation of cheating had come up once between your friend group, and in between laughter, you stated that you would simply beat both his and her ass for even thinking about doing that. All you could do now though, was stare in horror as the woman's walls clenched around your boyfriend every time that she moved up and down his cock. "Are you gonna stare or are you gonna join us?" The high pitched moan of the girl and Miguel's words snapped you from your thoughts, your face void from any expression. While you were planning on taking your misery out on a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream later on, you refused to let them see how much it affected you.

"Why would you do this to me?" You asked him, completely dumbfounded at the events taking place. You hated the way that your voice sounded, so small and broken, expecting yourself to let your anger seep through with every word uttered. "You led me to this situation. Been denying me for so long that I had to take manners into my own hands," he responded, his thrusts halting to a stop once he took the chance to look at you. You let out a small scoff, surprised by the amount of audacity he held despite the fact he'd just been caught having an indiscretion. "I led you to this? You cannot be serious right now."

He tapped the woman's leg, getting her off him as she reached over to cover herself with no shame in her expression. "Look baby, I can forgive you denying me the opportunity to have sex with you if you're willing to forget about this little.. incident," he told you, standing up and taking your chin so you'd look up at him. You couldn't help it though, the moment that you looked into his eyes, you no longer saw the man that you'd once fallen in love with but instead the expression of pleasure that was contorted on his face when you stepped in. "Forgive me? Did you hit your head standing up? I don't want anything to do with you."

"I was the best thing that ever happened to you, don't delude yourself into thinking otherwise. Give it a second thought, nena. You know you can't find someone like me anymore," you heard behind you while your hand lingered on the doorknob, about to exit the scene. "Think about it clearly. Who do you think is going to love you the same way that I did?" He added salt to the injury, painting you as someone unlovable. "Now you're being the delusional one for thinking that I want to find someone like you ever again," you responded, shutting the door with more force than necessary on your way out. You heard a loud groan behind you, the scuffling sounds of clothes being tossed around.

A part of you selfishly longed that he would come chase after you, get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness so you waited outside to see if the door would open. You weren't sure if you were expecting an apology for being taken like a fool or for the act that had taken place, but that didn't stop you from wanting him to tell you that he was sorry. The door remained locked, the volume of the moans rising in intensity like they knew you were still out there. Rain started to pour but as much as you wanted to move, your feet remained stuck in the ground like cement. You just wanted him to say the words 'I'm sorry' but the only thing that you received standing there was hearing him say, "Ay Dios, such a good pussy. Unlike anything I've had before."

Only when you were across the street from his house is that you allowed yourself the opportunity to cry, for everything that you longed for and would never obtain again. You couldn't help but blame yourself the slightest bit, for wanting to trust the words of a renowned cheater so badly. Even though your relationship with him essentially started the same way, going from being a fresh recruit at the spider society to snaking your way under Miguel's bedsheets every time you got the chance. The excitement of getting caught by his girlfriend at the time was too much for you to want to stop the affair the two of you were in, and you couldn't help but fall in love with him with every caress and whisper he shared with you.

You wanted to believe so badly that he was right, that you weren't anything like any of his previous girlfriends and that you were something special to him. It was one of the reasons that you forced yourself to be that exciting new prospect for miguel, pushing yourself past your limits just for the sake of keeping him interested in you. And now you had nothing to prove for the fact that you'd been with him apart from the pregnancy test in the pocket of your hoodie. You'd gone over to his place to tell him that you were pregnant, the frosting on the cookies that you were wielding spelling out the words.

As you got back home, you couldn't help the thoughts that were tormenting your brain since you'd left. You started doing a re-run of the relationship that you had with Miguel, starting to wonder where it was that it all went wrong. What he said was true, you had been denying him sex for a while now but you'd been so tired coming back from missions lately. There'd been a surplus of anomalies to deal with, the numbers only starting to decrease today. You'd hoped that he would be understanding since he was the one who was assigning these missions, but the hope was short lived.

You tried to think about the events that led up to this, trying to look at things from a normal perspective rather than the rose-colored perspective you were happily living in. You noticed him acting a bit strangely, but you'd dismissed it due to him being stressed with the vast quantities of anomalies that he had to deal with. You remembered offering him a blowjob a week ago while on a phone call, wanting to spend some time with him at his office before the two of you got too busy. He'd rejected your offer, light giggles coming from the distance. You realized that they were having fun at your expense, having gone through with the affair at least for a week now.

Entering your apartment felt like a stab in your heart since you'd lit up a candle that he'd taken a liking to before you left, the lingering aroma only providing you with memories of the relationship. Your sheets still weirdly smelled like remnants of his cologne, the smell of his shampoo lingering onto the pillow next to yours. As much as you tried not to think about him too much, every single thing in your apartment only reminded you and the relationship. Even the clothes in your closet were mixed around with his, the scent of his body wash from when he'd stayed over sticking to your clothes.

Showing up to work the next day felt more of an obligation that something that you used to look forward to, stares from your fellow spiders following you throughout the building. You'd done your best to ignore them when you were starting out with Miguel, ignoring their glares and their whispered voices as they called you a 'homewrecker.' Now that you didn't have Miguel's reassuring presence, you were solely depending on your ability to be able to ignore them. They all stared at you the same way that you felt, like a toy that had just finished fulfilling its use and was now tossed off to the side.

You weren't sure if it was the morning sickness or the fact that the recruit had her hand wrapped around Miguel's arm as he started to give the report on what to do today but just the mere sight of it had you wanting to throw up. Your eyes locked with Miguel, a small flash of guilt appearing on his features before his face contorted back to its normal state. You almost wanted to roll your eyes as the recruit batted her lashes up at him, staring at him like he held all the answers but you were pretty certain that you used to look at him the same way. Some of the other spider recruits turned to look at you at the sight and you could only wish that the earth would swallow you alive.

Coming back from your mission didn't provide you with the comfort that you'd needed, your forehead bleeding from a small gash that you'd gotten fighting. You'd been so focused on other aspects of your life to notice the piece of rubble that was aimed straight for your head. Luckily enough, one of the many Peters was present to warn you about it and the piece only managed to scratch you up slightly. You sat down at the nurse's table, noticing her eyes widen slightly at the sight of you but she quickly suppressed the surprise on her face. She applied some alcohol on the wound and cleaned it up, trusting your healing to do the rest.

You walked down the halls of the society to go to the cafeteria, having a bit of a craving for a burger. Seeing Miguel walking on the other side of the hall made you hold a breath, your footsteps getting faster. You figured that you were getting these dirty looks because they wouldn't dare do to that their boss, but the admiration on the rest of the spiders' face was starting to get ridiculous. "Miguellll, hi baby!" The woman from earlier announced, slotting herself next to him. You felt tears starting to sting when you saw him wrap his arm around her shoulders, holding her close the same way that he used to do to you.

The thoughts of having an abortion circulated through your brain while you sat alone, angrily biting into the burger with Miguel's face on it. While you doubted the ability of actually being able to go through this pregnancy by yourself, the thought of getting rid of the fetus just seemed too drastic to actually go through. Or at least, that was what you established as the main reason behind continuing with the pregnancy. The truth was, that despite everything that Miguel had done to you, you couldn't help but want a small piece of him with you. The idea of even having the slightest bit of him reflected on the baby was just enough for you to push those thoughts away.

You felt dirty sitting down on the floors of the bathroom, your head buried into your hands as you stifled the sobs threatening to come out through your throat. You looked up when someone knocked on the door, wiping away the tears dripping down your cheeks as you stood up. “I didn't mean to disturb but I was just wondering if you were okay," Gwen told you, standing there awkwardly with her hands in her pocket. You'd never focused too much on trying to build a relationship with any of your co-workers, stuck in the belief that you didn't care what anyone thought about you as long as you had Miguel so you appreciated the bit of kindness that she had to share.

"Not really," you offered, wiping your face so as to not appear too disheveled in front of her. "Would you like to talk about it?" She then asked you, looking a bit uncomfortable to be stuck playing therapist. Lucky for her, you didn't feel like explaining that the reason that you felt so upset was that your boyfriend had cheated on you. "Not really," you repeated, rubbing the back of your head awkwardly as another Spider-Woman came into the bathroom. You'd expected Gwen to walk off after that but the girl simply looked at you with understanding, realizing that you couldn't put the way that you were feeling into words yet. "Me and Hobie were actually about to go practice guitar for a little while, but there's a drum kit if you want to try that out."

Hitting a drum until most of your frustrations faded away seemed like a healthier coping mechanism than your usual ones, so you agreed and went with Gwen into her dimension. Gwen and Hobie had left to a secluded area to practice their guitar in peace, leaving you alone with your thoughts and sticks in your hands. While the sounds that were being elicited by your fury weren't exactly melodic, the drum certainly provided you with a feeling of peace with every smack that you took. The sounds of the strings of the guitar melted in with the off pitch sound of the drums, the sound of chaos weirdly providing you with the relief that you needed.

You'd been hitting the drums for what seemed to be forever, losing yourself into the adrenaline that was coursing through your veins when Gwen stepped in through the door. "Sorry to disturb your sesh, it seemed like you were really getting it on in there but we have to head back. Something about a mission, you okay to get back on your own?" Gwen asked you, standing by the doorframe as she peeked her head into the room. "I think I'll stay for a little while, but thank you for offering. I appreciate you for letting me crash here," you responded, stopping so she could hear you properly. After a couple minutes that Gwen had left, you departed as well since you'd felt that you'd gotten the relief that you needed.

You tried your best to get yourself to hate him, burning his clothes and ripping every photograph of the two of you but no matter how much you tried, you couldn't get yourself to hate him. It'd be easier for yourself if you could, because hating him seemed like the better alternative than loving him to the point it was starting to hurt you. But the truth was, that even if you could've predicted what happened between the both of you, you're not too sure that you would do anything different regardless. While you despised feeling like a discarded piece of trash, the amount of happiness that he provided you for the time he did was too euphoric for you to give up.

You were planning on just to relax after finishing up with the task of getting rid of his stuff, a knock on your door putting all your plan to a halt. You opened the door to see Miguel standing there, his arms folded across his chest with an uncomfortable expression. "Come in," you mumbled, stepping back and opening the door wider so he could come in. You figured that you were at least due for an explanation so you were willing to open the door just to get the closure that your poor heart needed. He came into the house, maneuvering his way the same way he used to do. You stood at the door in a bit of shock, closing the door and standing at a distance from him.

"I wanted to come here and apologize to you. I shouldn't have cheated on you and i'm deeply sorry for any hurt that I might've caused you," he spoke up after a couple seconds, his apology sounding like something rehearsed. You stayed quiet, gesturing for him to continue as you let the words seep in. "And for the way that I talked to you, it wasn't right of me to disrespect you. I don't know what you want me to say though, you knew that I was a cheater when I first met you and even if I wanted to stop, I can't," he added, his figure looming over yours in the small apartment. You couldn't help the small scoff that escaped from your throat once he finished talking.

"You couldn't stop your cheating tendencies just because you're wired that way, are you serious?" You asked him, your voice slightly raising as you walked closer. "I should've known that chasing a relationship with you would've ended the same way as always and I'm sorry. You were always too good to me," he responded, looking everywhere in the room except for your face. "No, you don't get to do this. You don't get to come into my house and paint yourself as the victim. Take some accountability for once in your damn life!" You screamed at him, unable to keep the rage brewing inside of you at bay.

"Fine, you want me to take accountability? The truth is that I got bored. I got bored in the same monotony that we were living in and I sought out for that type of excitement that you'd given me when we started out. There was nothing wrong with you, nothing wrong with you denying me sex either. It was just me needing to do something stupid and reckless," he spoke up after a while, finally looking at you in the eye. You let out a small sigh of relief, finding some solace in the fact that he was finally being honest with you without using any manipulation tactics. "You could've communicated that with me, y'know? We could've worked something out."

Miguel took a deep breath, almost like he hadn't given any thought to the alternative solutions available. "I took the easy out and I'm sorry for that. I also wanted to detach myself from you, I didn't want any interference in what your canon event would be," he added, making you lose all hope for the progress that the two of you had made so far. You knew how much he prioritized the maintaining of the canon, but you weren't expecting for him to use it to justify his cheating. "You can't be serious right now. I don't want you to excuse your cheating. I just want you to give me an explanation," you told him, speaking much quieter than last time.

"There is no other explanation apart from the fact that I was just simply bored and she provided me with the relief that I was seeking. Truth is, I can't even stand her that much. If I could've guessed that it would hurt you this badly, I wouldn't have bothered to do it," he played with his hands as he spoke, seemingly nervous. "Guess it was my form of karma," you muttered, a dry chuckle eliciting from your throat as you looked away. "Mira, I know that nothing I do is going to remove the fact that I cheated on you. But I do want you to give me another chance, please. I promise that we could make this work this time, I promise that if I try hard enough I could fall in love with you again," he told you, the words making your eyes widen.

It felt futile trying to deny yourself that Miguel had given you a new experience to relationships, allowing you to lose yourself in him and the time that you spent together. But the more that you thought about it, the more that you realized that you couldn't go back to him no matter how much you wanted to. You craved the intimacy that he once had given you, but even as you looked at him now, you couldn't stop picturing the woman that'd been on top of him just a couple days prior. The decision wasn't made for your sake, more so for the sake of the way that this turbulent relationship would affect the unborn child.

"I never had to try to love you, Miguel," you simply told him, your heart shattering even more with every second that passed. "I'm sorry but I can't do that. I’ll always appreciate everything that you showed me and everything that you did for me, and I'll always love you at some degree even if I try not to. But I can't be in a relationship with you now," you added, seeing his expression darken a bit at being rejected. "I'm not asking for you to be in a relationship with you, but I am asking you to give you a chance. Please, te lo suplico," he told you, getting on his knees as he held your hands in between his. (i beg of you) He leaned in his head towards your stomach, looking at you with such a vulnerability in his eyes. It took you a lot of self-restraint to be able to deny him, especially when he put himself in this position. "Please just go."

After he left your apartment, you felt a sort of weight lift up from your shoulders at the relief that things had gone moderately well between the two of you given the circumstances. As much as you wanted to get back into the dating world to help you get over the love that remained for Miguel, you knew deep down that you would only be dating solely to replicate the feelings that you experienced with him. The fact that he told you that he could love you if he tried hard enough stuck with you, your hands gripping around the teddy bear you were holding with more force. But despite the short lived anger that you'd felt towards him, you felt some peace knowing his reasoning for the indiscretion wasn’t out of spite for you.

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drabblesandimagines · 25 days

Text

Pink Gingham

Leon Kennedy x reader Established relationship, all fluff

It had been a long week at work. A number of your colleagues calling in sick and multiple projects in the pipeline, you’d tried to take up some of the slack with ill-advised early starts and late finishes...

Truthfully, if Leon hadn’t been away on assignment, you wouldn’t have volunteered for so much overtime.

The house still felt too big compared to the apartment you’d once shared, so the more time out of it at the moment the better, in your opinion. You’d started to feel a little off Friday morning, cast it aside as nothing that a lie-in Saturday would sort, but still found yourself awake at sunrise.

You’d got up, checked your phone to see if there were any messages – zero – showered and dressed, and taken the early wake-up call as a sign that you shouldn’t lie in today, but instead head downstairs to start on the long list of housework that had been neglected with good intentions.

You fill the kitchen sink with hot, soapy water and begin to wash the numerous glasses and cups that have built up. It must be the steam from the sink because there’s sweat on your brow by the second cup. You reason you should wait for the water cool down and take a bottle of water out the fridge, greedily gulping down half the thing before you change tact to loading the dishwasher.

After loading up the racks, you still feel too hot for what should for such a menial task. You’re feeling more akin to that time you tried to join Leon in one of his ridiculous work outs in the garage. To top it off, the beginning of a headache is now beginning to pound at your temples. You try and rub it half-heartedly away with your fingers, finally fighting back a yawn.

You check your phone again – still nothing.

It wouldn’t hurt to go back to bed, would it?

Your phone buzzes almost violently on the bedside table, startling you awake. The headache you had before you’d laid down for what might turn out to be an ill-advised nap doesn’t seem to have shifted, even with the painkillers you’d taken. In fact, it feels worse than it did, graduating into a horrible, constant throb around your temples.

You weakly kick the duvet off of you, feeling flush – should have got changed into your pjyamas rather than getting in bed fully dressed - and reach out blindly for your phone, holding it above your face to squint at the screen, trying to decipher what it was determined to tell you.

Two new messages from Leon.

Finally on my way home, sweetheart. Wrapped up yesterday but they wouldn’t discharge me till this morning. ETA 210 minutes.

You would’ve rolled your eyes at the acronym if it wasn’t already hard enough to focus.

And before you ask – bit bruised. Don’t recommend a prison tour…! All good otherwise x

Leon had set out on an assignment the previous weekend and you hadn’t heard much from him besides one text message a day, a sentence of more than three words if you were particularly lucky, often sweet words...

"All good."

"Miss you, sweetheart."

"I love you."

"Recycling out tomorrow!"

..or reminders about something you'd forget to do completely if he wasn't around. In fact, that’s the way it had always been if he was on what you’d call 'active duty', not just him in a stuffy suit up DC way, trailing behind the President. It's not like you’d got used to not hearing much from him, just that it was expected.

There was always that little lump in your throat when he was away, of course there was, that this would be the time you wouldn't hear from him at all and there'd just be a knock on the door, agents dressed in mourning suits.

Besides, you’d rather his focus was on coming back to you in one piece than trying to compose an update whilst shielding from bullets or something horrifying.

You haul yourself out of bed, immediately regretting it when your vision swims and you fall back down heavily on the mattress, balance somewhat abandoning you.

Probably just got up too fast, you reason, try and shrug it off. There’s there niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach that you’re not well, but you’re going to remain in denial about it. You hate being sick, will never acknowledge you’re feeling under the weather to your grave and just muster on. It’s all psychological – it’s just a headache, you haven’t drunk enough water, not after you’ve sweated the last one out, didn’t have a proper breakfast either.

You’re fine. There’s too much to do, anyway. Every single time Leon had arrived home from an assignment it had been to a clean house and a home-cooked meal keeping warm in the oven, his favourite sweatpants fresh out of the dryer after you’d convinced him to soak in the tub – worked wonders for tense and bruised muscles – and you’ll be damned if he didn’t have the same today. It’s what he deserves.

He'd beam as soon as he walked in, wrapping you up tight in his arms, pressing a kiss against your temple and you’d run him said bath, finishing off dinner to be served for when he returned downstairs. What would follow would be an early retreat to bed, sometimes for devouring kisses and more, or just embraced in each other’s arms.

Leon’s text was from a while ago, so he couldn’t be too far away. Probably be hungry as well – often running off pure adrenaline when he was fighting for his life, then had an insatiable appetite on his return – so you really should try and see what you could combine from whatever’s in the refrigerator.

Ugh – you hadn’t done a grocery run in a few days. That had been on your agenda for today, though you’re not sure you’ll have time for that now. The laundry hamper is close to overflowing, the dishwasher definitely needs running after you crammed it full after dinner last night, some rogue plates and glasses piled up besides the sink and definitely a few rooms would benefit from the vacuum being run around.

You don’t even what to think about the garbage and recycling situation.

So much for his usual welcome home deal, then.

You get up a little slower this time, rewarded for your efforts by no spots of black in your vision and carefully head out the bedroom and towards the stairs, perhaps gripping the banister a little too firm on your descent than usual.

The easiest task by far is to pop the tablet in the dishwasher and set that to run, so you do that first, though making sure to bend down slowly after the previous bouts of head rush. After it whirs into action, you grab an apron off the hook – a pink frilly gingham one, a gift from a friend – and turn your attention to the fridge and proceed to stare forlornly at the contents, hoping for inspiration to strike.

You close the door in defeat and lean up against the counter. Maybe there’s some pasta and sauce in the cupboard…? Your thought is cut off as you hear the front door unlock.

“Sweetheart, you home?” You want to think it’s the sound of his voice that makes you weak at the knees, but you’d be a liar.

“In the kitchen!” You call back, keeping yourself propped up against the counter. Usually you’d be rushing towards him, colliding into his chest for a hug but everything feels impossible.

“Hey.” He smiles, creases at the corner of those blue eyes you could stare into for hours. Though he wasn’t lying in his text about the bruises – there’s a black eye blooming, currently a rather pleasing shade of purple, and plenty of other marks and scrapes littering his arms.

“Hey. Sorry, I haven’t started dinner yet.” Leon raises his eyebrow at that, and you feel awful, but it’s not for the reason you think. “No, sorry. I mean, welcome home! I’ll just star-” You stand upright, intending to head over to the cupboard in search of something, but your step is a bit too heavy, too quick to move and your vision swims again.

“Whoa.” Leon catches you by your shoulders, holding you up. “You feeling all right there, sweetpea?”

“I’m great.” You try and shrug him off, but his heavy palms stay in place. “Are you okay?”

His brows furrow, eyes scanning over your face. “You look hot.” The concern gives way to a grin as he realizes what he’s said. “I mean, not the usual hot. Warm.”

A hand remains on your shoulder while he moves the other to your forehead, gauging your temperature, but you’ll be damned to admit it feels soothingly cool. “I’ll turn the AC on. Let me-”

“Shit, no. You’re burning up.” Leon’s eyes widen, a worried crease appearing on his brow. “How long have you been like this?”

“No, it’s just…” You pull your head back from his hand, reluctantly. “It’s just hot in here.”

He gives you a skeptical look as you try and step around him – a look that would usually be accompanied with his hands on his hips if he didn’t still have one keeping you in place.

“How long?” He repeats, his mind racing, heart pounding. It was protocol to be decontaminated after any interaction with a BOW – he’d showered and changed clothes since Alcatraz. Hell, he’d bagged up his old ones to be incinerated, just to be sure. He knows it’s not logical, he can’t have brought something back with him and it affect you this fast, but the worry still surfaces. “From before I got home or just now? Did you feel a sting or anything?”

“Sting? No.” You shake your head, scrambling for excuses. “I’ve had a headache all morning but I probably haven’t drunk enough water. And… And I didn’t have the AC on or the windows open today, it’s probably that.”

“Mm-hm.” He relaxes a little, he’d already began calculating the distance between here and the lab. “Have I told you before that you’re a terrible liar?”

“Honestly, I’m fine,” you protest, taking advantage. “I can get dinner started at least. You go relax and I’ll…!”

Your vision swims again from sudden movement, but this time it’s from Leon sweeping you up into his arms. He doesn’t even let out a grunt, even though you know he must be aching from the amount of bruises he has.

“Sweetheart, we’re barely into the afternoon. You don’t need to worry about dinner - you’re going back to bed.”

“No, I’ve got so much to do.” You lament, though you don’t fight as he adjusts his hold on you, wrapping your arms around his neck as he heads towards the stairs.

“So? I can handle it.”

“But you just got back, I should be looking after you.”

That’s the way it had always been. Leon comes home and you’re there for him, however he needs you to be. Sometimes he’ll tell you about what happened as he cuddles into your chest – likes to hear your heartbeat, reminds him of some good in the world – but you’ve failed miserably this time, not even remotely prepared.

“Sweetpea, I know you hate being sick but you aren’t going to feel any better pushing yourself, okay? Let me fuss over my favourite girl for once.”

You don’t say anything as he places you gently down on the bed, sitting up against the headrest. He goes over to the dresser and pulls out one of his t-shirts, tugging the knot of the apron strings loose before softly asking you to put your arms up above your head. It’s all gentle touches, removing the apron, coercing you out of your top and into his, shuffling you out of your jeans and pulling back the covers for you to get in.

“These the painkillers you took?” He lifts up the box from the bedside table, eyes skimming the instructions and dosage.

“Yeah.” You mumble back, nuzzling your cheek into the pillow. “I don’t remember when though.”

“We’ll hold off a couple more hours, then, before another dose.”

He grabs the glass that was sat beside the pills and retreats into the bathroom, where you hear the tap run for a moment before he’s back at your side, placing down the glass of water. He crouches down besides you and gently brushes some of your hair behind your ear.

“Can I get you anything?”

You open an eye. “You.”

He grins, gets to his feet and carefully clambers over you to lie down at your back, draping a heavy arm around your waist.

“Only for a bit, though. Don’t want you overheating from me.”

“Mm-hm…” You mumble into the pillow, feeling your body relax. The weight of his arm feels nice – reassuring. “Love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

It isn’t long before Leon can hear your breathing change, assuring him that you’ve drifted off to sleep. He could stay there easily, just close his eyes and nod off and though he knows you would never oppose that, the way you’d be so determined to get the house in order... A flash of pink gingham on the floor makes up his mind.

---

You wake up alone in the bed, a little confused, but clear of the awful headache. Looking for the glass of water you know that Leon left there earlier, you notice that the bedside table now holds your phone, plugged into charge. You sit up slowly – still wary of dizzy spells - greedily drink from the glass of water, feeling it slip down your throat into a particularly empty stomach. Seems like your appetite had decided to reappear.

The digital alarm clock over on the dresser shows that it’s gone 8pm and, most intriguingly, the laundry basket is now empty. Huh.

You don’t bother to dress as you head downstairs, still clad in Leon’s t-shirt. The TV’s playing on a low volume, a candle burning on the coffee table. You can hear the thrum of the washing machine from the utility and when you head through to the kitchen, you find Leon hunched over the sink, apron strings tied around his waist as he dips a glass into the soapy water. The dishwasher is slightly ajar and you can see it’s been emptied, and he’s washing everything left in the sink – by hand.

He looks over his shoulder with a hesitant smile at the sound of your footsteps and then turns, drying his hands off on the apron – the pink frilly gingham number seems to suit him a little too well.

“Hey. Not sure you should be up yet, sweetheart. You were a bit unsteady on your feet earlier. Go sit down for me?”

“Okay.” You nod, and he’s pleased that you don’t protest – putting it down to the fact that you still must be feeling somewhat lousy. He traces your footsteps as you plod over to sit on the sofa though, just in case, and watches you curl up against the armrest.

“You feel up to eating something? I ordered in some soup earlier. Can warm it up on the stove now if you like – it’s your favourite.”

You nod. “That sounds nice.”

“Coming right up.” He pulls the blanket from off the armchair – the one that’s usually reserved for movie nights – and tucks it around you, pressing a kiss on your forehead as he does.

He turns to head back to the kitchen when he feels your fingers curl around his wrist, causing him to pause.

“I’m sorry I’m an awful patient.”

“You’re not, just stubborn,” Leon corrects with a cocky grin, but it doesn’t have the desired effect as the pout remains in place on your lips, thoughts spiraling. “But so am I.”

“No, I should be looking after you. You should be coming back to everything in order. Whatever this is won’t be anywhere near as bad as what you’ve been through - those bruises look so sore an-“

“Hey, it’s not a competition, sweetpea.” He says, softly, crouching down in front of you, rubbing your thigh with his right hand. “We’re a team, aren’t we?”

“It feels like I’ve let you down.”

“Never.” He says, firmly, giving you thigh a squeeze. “Actually impossible. I’m just glad I got back in time to keep an eye on you, I just hate the idea of you feeling lousy on your own.”

The washing machine beeps from the utility and he gets to his feet, passing you the remote from the coffee table. “Why don’t you find us something to watch, and I’ll move the laundry to the dryer and get that soup warmed up?”

“If you’re sure.”

He bends down, presses a kiss against your crown.

“Positive.”

He only makes it a few steps back towards the kitchen when you call out, looking bashful.

“Leon?”

“Mm?” He twists slightly to look back in curiosity.

“You look cute in that apron.”

He gives you a twirl, ending with a beaming grin. “I know.”

---

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff

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misctf · 4 months

Text

Christmas Revenge

For Scott and his girlfriend Holly, the past year had been nothing short of magical. As the manager of his family’s Christmas tree farm, Scott enjoyed sharing his love for the holiday with anyone he met. And when Holly visited from the big city, he was happy to share it with her too. But Scott could’ve never imagined that their initial interactions would lead to a serious relationship. Holly left her job at a new tech company to come be with Scott and help on the farm. But while things seemed great, Holly insisted that Scott be careful. It wasn’t just her job that she left, but her boyfriend as well. Jared founded the tech company and didn't appreciate being rejected. But Scott brushed Holly off- besides, he was a beast of a man. He could handle Jared if he ever looked to cause trouble.

So a year passed without incident and Scott couldn’t help but forget Holly’s warnings. And as she gave him a kiss goodbye and headed out to start prepping for the holiday party down at the farm, Scott couldn’t help but think he was the luckiest guy on earth. But his thoughts were interrupted when he heard a knock at the door. Not thinking much of it, he continued getting ready, until another more forceful knock forced his hand. He opened the door to see who it was, only to be met by nothing but an unmarked package on the ground. Scott raised an eyebrow, looking around to see if he could see whoever delivered it. But without any luck, he shrugged and proceeded to bring the box inside, setting it down on the table.

“Wasn’t expecting anything.” He murmured to himself, quickly going about opening the strange box, “What the fuck...?” Scott frowned as he lifted what he could only assume was some type of costume- a gray bodysuit, “Who would send this?” He wondered aloud, placing the gray suit back in the box.

But Scott had bigger concerns- he needed to get ready for the party. He quickly stripped and stepped into the shower, enjoying the warm water that caressed his body. He rubbed soap through the hairs on his muscular chest and along his sore biceps. And as he enjoyed his shower, he heard something shuffling from just beyond the curtain. But when he pulled it back to inspect, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. The gray body suit was standing on its two legs and shambling towards him weakly. But when it “saw” it’s apparent target, it leapt at Scott with such force that it knocked the man to the ground.

Scott attempted to wrestle with it, using the strength he had built up over the years to resist the lifeless suit. But he watched in terror as one of the suit’s legs opened up and wrapped around his muscular calf. He winced in pain as he felt a burning sensation emanate from where it made contact and he watched in horror as more of the suit wrapped around his meaty thighs.

“Get the fuck off me!” He shouted, attempted to push the suit off of him.

But the suit was quick, and Scott watched as he inadvertently placed an arm within the suit’s. He attempted to pull it out, but the suit quickly locked onto his arm, preventing him from moving it. The suit wasted no time, and puppeted the trapped arm to pin his other arm down. Scott yelled out for help as the suit continued to wrap itself around his body, despite his attempts to break free. Even with all his muscle, the suit itself seemed to have an unfathomable amount of strength.

“Please...” He begged as he felt his muscles tire out.

Now at the complete mercy of the suit, he could only lie there as it wrapped around his other leg and arm. The remainder of the suit opened up and wrapped around his torso and chest, covering him completely in gray. His dick and ass were no exceptions as the tight suit forced his dick against his abdomen. Now nearly fully encased, he felt an intense heat be applied to his skin, as well as a new sensation primarily from his cock and ass. Pleasure maybe? The warmth felt good against his skin now and he let out a low moan as his tired muscles began to relax. But before Scott could fully appreciate these newer sensations, the remainder of the suit began to wrap around his bearded face. His eyes widened before his vision was flooded with gray.

And so Scott remained there, encased in the gray suit as it started to alter his body. He silently moaned as the suit compressed his muscles, shrinking his impressive physique into something much leaner. And it wasn’t just his musculature that was impacted, but his height as well. Inch by inch, he continued to shrink until he was about a foot shorter than where he had started. But for each inch of height lost, his ass expanded an equal amount leading to quite an impressive amount of additional padding. Minutes passed as Scott underwent his metamorphosis but eventually the suit simply dissolved away and disappeared down the drain. Scott moaned and gripped his head, shuddering at the cool air that touched his warm skin. He picked himself up, wobbling slightly as he adjusted to his new proportions.

“Oh god, what the fuck.” Scott said aloud as he finally viewed himself in the mirror, wincing at his newly high pitched voice.

Scott couldn’t even recognize himself. Every physical attribute that had made him the man he was had been removed. His body hair was absent. His musculature reduced to nothing. His dark hair now blond. His skin tan and smooth- not a callous to be found. But what he noticed in particular was his newly plump and jiggly ass- one of the only things that hadn’t been reduced in his transformation. This was nearly too much for the man and he quickly pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts that unintentionally highlighted his giant globes. He needed to find Holly and fast, but as he headed out the door to get down to the shop, he felt a pain in the back of his head and his world went dark.

When Scott woke up a few hours later, he found himself in what appeared to be an office building. He quickly looked down at his body and felt his heart sink as he realized the changes were very much real. But now, he wore nothing but a blue thong.

“Ah Scottie.” Scott looked up at the young man who entered the room, “I think we met briefly last year.” Scott shuddered as he realized it was none other than Jared, Holly’s former boyfriend, “Looks like our tech did exactly what it was supposed to, wouldn’t you say?”

“Y-you did this to me?” Scott mumbled.

Jared nodded, his eyes narrowing. He proceeded to explain that his company worked on tech to modify the human body. And when Scott stole Holly from him, all he could think about was bringing him down. How barbaric men like Scott needed to be taught a lesson. And for Jared, taking Scott from a rugged, masculine man to a small helpless twink was the perfect revenge.

“But Scottie, there’s something that bothers me. I want to know why Holly found you attractive. Would you care to educate me?”

Scott wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. To tell him that he was absolutely insane. But before he could say what he wanted to say, he started explaining to Jared why such big sexy muscles were such a turn on. How just the thought of hairy chests and big dicks were enough to get him off. And as Scott continued to listen to himself explain these things and the horrible things he’d let such a man do to him, he realized that he fully meant it. With each word, he felt his ass throb in pleasure with a need for one of these men- a man to slap his ass and use him. By the time he was done, he was nearly drooling in anticipation. Jared smirked.

“You see Scottie, that suit did a whole lot more than give you the body of a depraved gay slut.” He stated, “I’m sure I don’t need to explain that to you.” Scott nodded, barely comprehending his words, “But don’t worry, I know many men who would love to try out your new uh... talents.”

Scott was never the same after that day- unable to go back to the life he once lived. Gone from the world was the small town hunk, replaced with a slut that craved to be manhandled by the type of men he once was. And Jared made sure Scott was well taken care of so that he could focus all his energies on the only thing that mattered to him: pleasing other guys. So Jared was more than happy to provide any support Scottie needed. Besides, for Jared, this was the best Christmas gift he could've asked for.

#male tf #male transformation #straight to gay #mental change #personality tf #twink tf

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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months

Text

falling is easy, catching is hard

rated m | also on ao3 cw: recreational drug use, implied sexual content tags: friends with benefits, secret relationship, shotgunning, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @sidekick-hero!!! Sandy, you deserve the world, but this 3000 word thing will have to do for now 💖

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

December 19, 1985

Steve Harrington needed sleep.

Eddie Munson had the only thing that would put him to sleep.

But Eddie Munson also held a grudge, a reasonable one, but an annoying one.

“You want me to sell you the last of my good shit? For half price?” Eddie snorted. “You’re out of your damn mind, Harrington.”

“Munson, please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Steve begged.

“Why would I do you any favors? You never did me any.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, waiting somewhat impatiently for a response from Steve.

Steve didn’t have one.

Eddie was right; He didn’t really deserve a favor from someone who had let his friends make his first senior year absolutely miserable.

But Robin’s voice looped in his head: “Be vulnerable sometimes, Steve. People may surprise you.”

“Listen man, I just really need to sleep, alright? I’ve tried everything else.” Steve sighed. “This is pretty much my last hope.”

Which was a truth and a lie. He’d already tried smoking some weed, knew that it worked.

Eddie’s forehead creased in the middle.

That’s kinda cute, Steve thought to himself before shaking his head. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted by big, brown eyes and shiny lips.

“You been to a doctor?” Eddie asked.

“The sleeping pills make them worse.”

“Make what worse?” Eddie pushed.

“The nightmares.”

Eddie nodded once, understanding flitting across his face as he relaxed his arms by his sides.

“How long you been havin’ them?” Eddie asked as he walked around to the bench at the picnic table, opening his lunchbox.

“I guess…technically years. They’ve been worse since July though.” Steve knew he had to be careful about what he said, couldn’t give away more than what the public knew about what happened at the mall, but Eddie seemed trustworthy enough to handle this part. “Doctors said it’s normal for trauma or whatever.”

Eddie nodded, whispered something under his breath, and shuffled through his box.

“Forgot you worked at the mall over the summer. Kinda crazy what happened,” he said as he pulled a small discolored plastic bag from the box. “I’ll make you a one-time only deal, Stevie.”

Steve ignored the butterflies in his stomach at the nickname, kicked at the dirt under his feet, and gestured for Eddie to continue.

“I’m not giving my product away for half price. I’m a businessman and that’s not a smart financial decision for my business.” Eddie held up a hand when Steve looked like he was going to argue. “But! I will share a joint with you right here, right now, for free.”

“Um. What?”

“I was gonna smoke this one tonight as a celebration for passing all my first semester finals by the skin of my teeth. I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” Eddie’s smirk made the butterflies even worse.

Steve was going to regret this.

God, he was so stupid.

“Yeah, okay.”

Smoking with Eddie the first time was nice, but the second, and third, and fourth times were even better.

— — — — — — —

January 16, 1986

“You’re late, Stevie. I was starting to worry you’d gotten frostbite.” Eddie’s smile warmed Steve from the inside out, the shiver wracking his body more to do with the growing fondness he had for the curly-haired man in front of him.

Eddie was bundled up like they were in Antarctica, and to be fair, it was below freezing outside right now.

Steve offered to meet somewhere else, but Eddie insisted they come to his usual spot.

And then Steve saw it: Eddie had built them a fire. It was small, he probably didn’t want to draw any attention from the road, but it was throwing heat that Steve craved.

“Come warm up before we get into it,” Eddie waved him over, his gloved hands looking out of place.

Steve was used to seeing shiny rings on his fingers, blisters on his fingertips from playing too much guitar.

Steve stood next to him in front of the fire, holding his own gloved hands out to try to warm his body as much as possible.

“Any reason I couldn’t just come to your house or something?” Steve asked, not quite getting rid of the attitude in his tone.

“My Uncle has tonight off. He’s a pretty chill guy, but I think actively watching me sell drugs to someone would maybe cause a heart attack.” Eddie sighed. “I told him I had a date tonight so I couldn’t really have you show up after that.”

“A date?” Steve grinned, nudging Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t even bring flowers.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but looked away to cover a blush. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to put out until there’s a dozen roses in my hand.”

He meant it as a joke surely, but something in Steve’s chest clenched at the thought of spoiling Eddie like that. Maybe not roses, that didn’t quite seem his style.

“I’ll try to remember them next time,” Steve managed to say, nearly choking on his own words.

What was he even doing? Flirting? Eddie didn’t even consider him a real friend, why would he want him to bring him flowers?

“Got a new strain tonight. It’s supposed to be a little stronger, but fades faster, so you should be good to drive back home in a couple hours.” Eddie pulled the baggie out of his pocket, lunchbox long gone after meeting twice a week for the last month.

Steve wasn’t really a customer anymore, no matter how they tried to keep up appearances that he was.

He still tipped Eddie, or tried to, but usually Eddie ignored it and just said it was a favor to help him sleep.

“How strong?” Steve finally asked as Eddie pulled the lighter from his pocket.

“Might make you a little floatier than usual. Not hallucinogenic, though.” Eddie knew he couldn’t handle that kind of trip. That’s why he stayed away from his other offerings. “I tested it out myself earlier this week.”

Steve wasn’t reading into that.

“Okay.” He fought off a shiver, this time from actually being cold. “Guess it’s worth a try.”

“I’ll drive you home if it’s too much.” Eddie’s offer was kind, going above and beyond what a dealer would do for a customer, but Steve wasn’t reading into it. “Or you can nap it off in the van for an hour or so before heading home. Whatever.”

Eddie lit the joint, breathing in long and slow, holding the smoke until Steve was sure he would pass out before slowly letting it out.

He handed the roll to Steve, who didn’t think about what Eddie meant by stronger, and took his normal pull, choking halfway through.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he took the joint from him, his hand grabbing onto Steve’s arm as he coughed.

“Jesus Christ, man, you good?” Eddie asked him.

“Yeah,” he coughed. “Sorry. It is a lot stronger.”

Eddie searched his face, relaxing as Steve’s breathing went back to normal. “Good?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe take it slower?” Eddie teased. “Or- no never mind.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, already feeling the heaviness that came with smoking.

“Ever shotgunned before?”

Steve’s heart stopped. He’d venture to say he was even stone cold sober again after that question.

“Um. No.” He hadn’t. He’d wanted to with Nancy, figured it would be the only way she would be interested in trying weed, but it never worked out. “Would it be easier?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Usually. We can give it a try if you want.”

Steve nodded before he really processed what he was being offered.

Eddie’s mouth would be very, very close to his. Possibly even on his.

And he’d be sharing breath with him, probably more than one if it worked.

Eddie pulled the picnic table closer to the fire and sat on the bench. He patted the seat next to him.

“Might as well get comfy, then,” Eddie said.

Steve sat next to him, close enough to feel the warmth coming from his side, close enough to hear Eddie’s hitched breath when they made contact.

Close enough to want to be closer.

“Alright, so I’ll start with a small one, and you just have to breathe in when I breathe out.”

“Is it-” Steve played with a loose thread on his gloves. “Your lips are gonna touch mine?”

Eddie suddenly looked nervous, like he regretted offering this at all, and Steve couldn’t allow that.

“I don’t mind! I mean, I want you to!” Steve panicked. “Like, it’s fine! I know we have to for the whole thing to work.”

“Yeah. Um, it’s not like, weird or anything. It’s just me helping you get high.”

It wasn’t weird, but it definitely was hot.

Eddie took a drag, leaned into Steve’s space, and cupped his jaw, tilting his head back for easier access.

Steve couldn’t breathe.

But he had to, that was the whole fucking point of doing this.

His lips parted and Eddie’s warmth coated him, covered him better than the fire.

He breathed in as Eddie breathed out, his hand seeking contact with anything solid to keep him on this earth.

He found it in Eddie’s hip, his fingers gripping tight as Eddie lingered beyond the point of the smoke clearing from his mouth to Steve’s.

Their lips brushed lightly, an agonizingly soft touch that Steve tried his best not to chase as it drifted away.

He bit back a whine at the loss, opening his eyes to see Eddie still surprisingly close, pupils huge.

It’s just the weed, Steve thought to himself.

It definitely wasn’t their almost-kiss.

Steve breathed out, swallowing once the smoke was gone from his mouth.

“Good?” Eddie asked.

Steve should answer him, should nod and thank him for doing this, maybe ask him for another hit so he could try to blame his fidgeting on being high.

But Steve wanted to kiss him.

Not shotgun, not barely brush lips, not act like this wasn’t something more than what it started as.

Robin told him he deserved nice things, and he deserved to be happy, and he did.

So Steve let himself try to have a nice thing.

“Again?” Steve asked, leaning in before Eddie had a chance to take a drag.

“Woah, big boy.” Eddie’s hands grabbed his shoulders, not pushing him away, but holding him back from making contact that he so desperately wanted. “Think that first hit might have gotten to you already. Let’s take a minute.”

“No, I-”

“Steve. You’re high.”

His tone was final, and something about the way his eyes darted away made Steve think that maybe this wasn’t the first time someone tried to make a move on him because he was giving them something.

He didn’t know Steve was into men, either.

Steve could just tell him, though. Let him know it’s not just the drugs, that he’d already had feelings for him before.

But the high was kicking in and Steve’s tongue felt like an iron weight.

“How about I get you some water?” Eddie asked, pulling away and walking swiftly to his van.

Steve didn’t protest. He did need some water.

Eddie sat on the other side of the table when he came back, handed over a bottle of water with a small smile, and watched as Steve gulped most of it down.

“This is good shit,” Steve admitted, slurring his words a little from the effort of moving his mouth. “Better than usual.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice treat once in a while.”

They sat in silence for another 30 minutes or so, though the time didn’t even feel like it was passing to Steve until Eddie stood up and guided him to the passenger seat of his van.

“Wha-?”

“I’m gonna drop you off at home. You got someone who can help you get your car tomorrow?” Eddie buckled his seatbelt, Steve tried not to be too endeared. “Maybe Buckley? Or Wheeler?”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

Nancy had barely talked to him in months, not since she gave him one awkward hug after Starcourt. Robin couldn’t drive, or at least said she couldn’t. That’s why he drove her to school and all of her work shifts.

“Maybe you could?” Steve suggested.

Eddie sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

— — — — — — —

February 14, 1986

Steve got him flowers.

He hadn’t seen him since the night he drove Steve home.

By the time Steve woke up the next morning, his car was parked in the driveway with a note on his keys that said ‘Promise there’s not a dent on her.’

And then Eddie had ignored his calls. He’d conveniently never been at his spot anytime Steve had ever met up with him before.

He couldn’t even pass a message through Dustin because Dustin was too curious for his own good and would probably figure out that Steve wanted to kiss him.

Which is all Steve thought about for the last month while he figured out what to do next.

Robin was no help at all, said he should just corner him after Hellfire one night and make a move if he wanted him so bad.

As if that could ever be an option.

This was his last chance, though.

He’d confirmed with one of his bandmates – Garrett, maybe? – that he didn’t have plans tonight and refused to sell on Valentine’s Day.

Steve stood in front of Eddie’s trailer, a bouquet of white and pink daisies in his hand, feeling particularly stupid.

The van was here, so Eddie was here, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk up the steps and knock on the door. This was maybe the most idiotic thing he’d ever done and he probably should leave before he was seen by someone.

“Steve?” Eddie opened the front door, confusion clear even from a distance. “The hell are you doing here?”

“I said I’d bring you flowers.”

He felt so dumb, standing here holding a bouquet of flowers for a guy who didn’t even want to sell drugs to him anymore. He considered dropping the flowers and making a run for it, but Eddie leaned against the door frame and scrunched his nose up.

Like he was trying not to smile.

Like maybe Steve did something right.

“Better bring them in so they can get water, then,” Eddie said with a hesitant smile.

Steve would take any type of smile, as long as it meant he wasn’t being sent away with his tail between his legs.

He rushed inside, didn’t think about the smell of Irish Spring coming off of Eddie, or the way his arm brushed against his side as he passed him.

Steve stood in Eddie’s trailer, taking in what Eddie called home, holding the flowers in front of him with hope.

Eddie closed the front door and walked over to him, holding his hand out.

“You didn’t have to get me flowers just for me to sell you drugs again, ya know.” Eddie smiled sadly. “I would have let you buy if you really needed it.”

“You won’t return my calls so how would you know if I needed it?” Steve countered.

“Ouch.” Eddie sucked a breath in through his teeth. “You’re right. I, uh, was giving you some space.”

“What made you think I wanted any?” Steve took the flowers back from Eddie’s hand, setting them on the coffee table behind him. “If I wanted space, I wouldn’t have bothered calling at all.”

“That’s what Wayne said, but-”

“Well, maybe you should’ve listened to Wayne.” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry I fucked things up by wanting to kiss you. I’m sorry if the flowers are too much. I’m sorry if I’m too much.”

Steve couldn’t look at Eddie after his confession, or his attempt at one. It may have been more of an apology, but he figured his intentions were clear enough.

“Steve. Stevie. Look at me.” Eddie cupped his cheeks, that familiar warmth covering Steve in safety. “You’re not too much. Don’t ever, ever let anyone tell you that you’re too much. You were so high, I didn’t wanna take advantage. I thought if I just left you to think about it long enough, you’d realize what happened was just from the weed.”

Steve shook his head, reaching his hands up to circle Eddie’s wrists. “It wasn’t just the weed. You’d know that if you let me talk to you before now.”

Eddie rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone, eyes dancing across the freckles that covered Steve’s surprisingly sun-kissed skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain.”

“You’re forgiven if you listen now,” Steve took a breath, letting his hands run down Eddie’s arms and settle on his hips. “I like you. A lot. Definitely more than a customer should, more than a friend should, maybe more than a regular boyfriend should. It’s okay if that’s too much, but it’s what I have to give.”

“You’re really something, Stevie.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I think I’ll take what you’re giving if that’s alright with you.”

“Please,” Steve breathed out as Eddie’s lips crushed against his fully.

Steve always felt so much, always gave so much, hardly ever had anyone who would take what he had to give.

But Eddie was taking it, forcing it from Steve to his own body, his own heart, like it was the only thing he wanted or needed.

“If you wanna buy tonight, you’re gonna be real disappointed,” Eddie gasped out against his lips when they came up for air minutes, maybe hours, later. “I don’t sell on major holidays.”

“Is Valentine’s Day a major holiday?” Steve asked, brows furrowing.

“It is when I get to have you in my bed.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“That sound okay to you, big boy?” Eddie was smooth. Who could have possibly guessed?

Steve barely got out a ‘yes’ before Eddie was pulling him down the short hallway to his bedroom and rattling off things he wanted to do to him.

Steve Harrington probably wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

But Eddie Munson would make it worth his while.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #birthday fic

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maxislvt · 11 months

Note

Thinking about babysitter!reader fucking Wanda in the back of her mini van.

(Also, this is only a fic request if you want it to be! Otherwise, enjoy the imagery😌)

Love your work btw<3

warnings: power bottom!Wanda, service top!r, amab!r, semipublic sex, age gap relationship

thank you for the compliment :) I hope you enjoy this! also shout-out to @wndaswife for inspo. PLEASE GO READ HER POWER BOTTOM WANDA FIC IT'S SOOO GOOD

Though you took pride in being a good role model for all the young children you babysat, you found yourself in a situation that could only be described as scandalous.

Wanda Maximoff, the mother of two wonderful twin boys and a pillar of the community, was pinned beneath you and almost entirely nude in the back of her Honda. The fact it was in the parking lot of an abandoned mall certainly didn't help. It would be a lie to say you didn't see it coming. You and Wanda had truly only been together a few weeks. The increasingly scandalous outfits and jokes at the expense of your virginity were a dead giveaway about how she was feeling. You were shocked it didn't happen sooner.

"Oh, you'd be as red as a tomato if you heard what the other moms around town wanna do to that pretty face of yours."She whispered with the same drawl that got you into this whole mess. It was easier to fall in love with her again than it was to tell her no. The hand stroking down the length of your shaft was relentless. "Especially that little nose of yours." Wanda guided your tip up and down her slit until you were practically shaking. "But you only want your mommy, isn't that right?"

You nodded frantically. "Just you, I promise." Your admission earned you the privilege of burying yourself inside of the warmth of Wanda's cunt, but you hesitated to take advantage of it. "D-don't I need a condom?" You asked foolishly. You were still so careful and nervous about everything. "And isn't it a crime to have sex in public? I'd hate for you to —"

Wanda wrapped one of her legs around your waist and pulled you forward. A low moan fell from her lips as you slid inside of her. "If I wanted you to wear a condom, I would've brought you one." She pulled you in for a kiss just as she started moving her hips against you. "Don't worry about that, okay? Just focus on making me feel good." One of her hands moved down to guide your hips into the pace she wanted. "That's it, nice and slow for mommy."

A low whine escaped your lips. "Mommy, you feel so good." You mumbled out in a daze. Nothing could ever truly compare to the feeling of Wanda's walls sucking you deeper inside of her. The confidence that you had built up weeks in advance meant nothing at that moment. You were nothing more than a pet for your lover to boss around and tease. "You're so warm," You whimpered. An unusual stroke of boldness took over as you began to grope at Wanda's chest. The mound of soft flesh felt heavenly in your hand. You were tempted to lean down and suck on it.

"You can be rough, baby. I want you to hurt me." There was an edge of excitement in her voice. It only grew as you began tugging on her nipples. "Fuck, just like that!" Wanda's moans had become increasingly broke and desperate. "I can feel you twitching baby. Are you gonna cum?" She purposely clenched around you tighter as you shook your head. "Are you sure? Mommy won't be upset if you do."

You clenched your eyes shut and tried focusing on the rhythm. "No Mommy, I can hold it. I promise." You weren't entirely confident in that statement. Your fingers abandoned Wanda's nipples and opted to focus on her clit instead. The bundle of nerves was almost too wet for you to properly stimulate.

Wanda was endeared by your sacrifice and was more than willing to test the stamina she knew you didn't have yet. However, the trunk of her car wasn't the most ideal place to do that. She hooked her ankles together behind your back. Her hips rolled against yours desperate to squeeze every last drop of cum out of you. "I'll tell you when I want you to hold it, but right now mommy wants you to fill her up. Can you do that?"

Of course, you could do that. Rope after rope of your cum painted Wanda's walls until you had nothing to give. Feeling her cunt flutter and gush around your dick was almost too much. You buried your face into Wanda's neck, embarrassed by how much was coming out of you. "I'm sorry, it won't stop," You mumbled weakly. You would've had to pull out at some point, but you started to dread the mess to come actively.

Wanda affectionately rubbed your back and whispered praises in your ear as you shook on top of her. "You did such a good job for Mommy," She coed. Her fingers tangled into your hair and played with it while you slowly caught your breath. "I know it feels good but we still have errands to run, remember?"

The groan you made as you pulled out didn't go unheard, but it was a bit upsetting to have the moment interrupted. You wiped yourself off then got dressed. It wasn't until you finished dressing yourself that you realized Wanda's problem."Are…are you going to the store like that?" Your eyes were immediately drawn to the already ruined panties. "Aren't you worried it'll leak out?"

Wanda shook her head as she climbed out of the van. "If that happens, you'll just have to use that pretty mouth of yours to lick it up."

#panther speaks #anon #panthers drabbles #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff smut #milf!wanda #love her sooo much

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skeilig · 2 years

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to say the same thing that i've been saying for YEARS once again, mob and reigen's relationship is so bonkers crazy insane, like... here's mob, 14 years old, and reigen's been lying to him since he was 11. to reigen, it was a white lie, even a kindness. to mob, it was not so inconsequential -- it was proof that he was not alone in the world and that he could be okay as an adult. and of course mob believed him fully at first. why wouldn't he? but over the years, the cracks started to form. if things didn't quite add up, mob tried not to think about them. and reigen kept digging the hole deeper; he never thought it would go this far. now mob's 14 and the truth is seeping in around the edges of his consciousness but he refuses to speak it, even after the press conference, when reigen all but begs him to. reigen wants him to say it. i know you've been lying to me. just say it. but mob won't and reigen can't, and they settle back into this weird holding pattern for a while longer. when things finally bubble over for mob, this is at the heart of it. the repression, insecurity, anger, doubt -- mob learned a lot from his master, including: we don't talk about it. so reigen, finally, SHOUTING the truth at him -- it doesn't matter that mob already knew. there's power in the confession, reigen's humility to finally admit it, the vulnerability of saying it out loud instead of leaving it unspoken. it takes all the air out of the conflict, the tension almost immediately evaporates... mob just needed to hear it. to be shown that it was okay to be honest, vulnerable... then when he returns from his long-built-up confession to tsubomi, mob breaks down in tears but it doesn't destroy the city. he just cries and reigen awkwardly pats his back and it's okay.

anyway SCREAMS at the top of my lungs, i love mob psycho 100

#mp100 #oh i'm getting so crazy again it's already happening #mp100 spoilers #do i have to tag manga spoilers again LOL #who are you people #mine

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doremimosasol · 5 months

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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧(𝐞𝐝) - 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ✧

spin-off from the headcanons <3

blurb <3

warnings: blood, wounds

word count: 1,6 k

summary: You built up an odd relationship with Mattheo Riddle, causing you to help him clean up his wounds at any given time he needed it. Things have changed though…

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into a month now. Mattheo hadn’t shown up to your door in a month. It seemed like he had been avoiding you at all costs. No usual visits to get him patched after his fights, not even looks across the hallway. Why? You had absolutely no idea.

Every day you could see his face get worse, worse because they were obviously not treated for anymore. Who would? You were the only one to care and his face showed the obvious traces of the lack of it. Wounds started to worsen instead of the fast healing and bruises stayed for weeks instead of days. It was obvious for anyone to see, yet no one seemed to even spare him a glance. Not even his own friends.

You were absolutely worried but didn’t dare to say a word about it, because you knew he would brush it off. He would just ignore your concern like he always did. How would you be able to talk to him about it when he seemed to be so clearly bothered by you even uttering a word outside of the times he visited your room?

Every time you ever mentioned the causes of his wounds on those nights, he’d stay quiet for the rest of it. No words, no actions could ever make him open up about them. No matter how hard you tried. It was obviously a topic he avoided at all costs but needed so badly to talk about. You saw it in his eyes but you could never force him to say something he was so clearly not ready to tell you about. It would be a lie to say you weren’t hurt by his lack of trust. Even after all these nights, you let him into your room, he wouldn’t open up his heart.

Day after day, you saw the bruises grow darker, larger. He knew how to cover up the pain, he always would. No winces could ever be heard from him, no tears ever threatened to spill from his eyes. Tears that wanted so badly to be released, to finally be able to breathe.

He always managed to put up his strong facade, and he was so damn good at it. He was able to trick everyone into this act, but you knew better. You saw right through him. He could never trick you, not after all those nights you spent in his presence.

He was in pain. It was obvious in the jaw that was tensed every second of the day. It was obvious in his furrowed brows. it was obvious in his torn lips, caused by the biting to relieve the pain. To be focused on something else. Something else than the pain that was hidden deep inside, something he just couldn’t pinpoint.

Week after week, the bruises started to get infected. But it seemed like no one noticed. Like the hate people carried for him, concealed the obvious discolorations. But not you, you noticed the weekly change. Hell, you even noticed the daily change. Because day by day it intensified.

He’d walk in the hallways like he was a shadow of the person he was. The small grin that lifted the corners of his mouth, just slightly noticeable for the observant eye. But it was fake, just to keep up the act. The mischievous sparkle in his eyes, gone like clouds covering up the stars. His charming smirk was now replaced by a frown.

However, after a month, you’ve had enough of keeping your worries suppressed. There was no way you would let this slide, to watch his happiness crumble away like that. To watch him pit a deeper hole to hide his feelings in until the point his feelings wouldn’t be able to be dug up again.

You decided you needed to act on it, there was no way you’d just witness the pain he obviously was causing himself. But you had no idea how to talk to him, how to even make him talk. If it wasn’t for his damn stubborn mind, this wouldn’t have been so hard.

But it’s Mattheo we’re talking about, not some blabbermouth who overshared everything the moment someone showed the slightest hint of attention. He was the complete opposite, he never shared ANYTHING.

So when you found him on a cool winter night on the top of the astronomy tower, your heart skipped a beat. This was the opportunity you were looking for. You stood at the top of the stairs, looking at the way the smoke of his cigarette merged with the freezing December air.

“Smoking kills, Mattheo”

He slightly flinched at the sudden sound of your voice, not expecting to be disturbed at this time of night. He turned his head, surprised by your sudden appearance. He looked you up and down curiously, not having been close to you for the past month. Though he didn’t forget the obvious nagging in his heart the moment he laid his eyes on you again. A feeling he had tried to avoid for weeks now, seemingly returned by your sudden presence.

“I am well aware of the ill effects of smoking, y/n. However, my choice to smoke is not yours to judge.” He took a long drag from the cigarette and let the smoke fill his lungs before slowly exhaling.

“You’ve been avoiding me, why?” You were sick of his games, you wanted a straight answer and you’d make sure to get it.

“You haven’t been visiting, I waited every damn night for you to finally knock on my door. Mattheo, don’t act like that was nothing. You came to me, you only came to me. What the fuck has been going on.” You walked closer to where he’s standing.

His jaw clenched at your sudden confrontation. He looked at your face: tracing the moles with his gaze again like he used to do, looking at your lashes and your lips that clearly looked worse since the last time he saw you. A pang went through his heart at the sight of you, something he’d found unexplainable but the mere reason he’d been avoiding you. Because he finally realized what it meant, and it pained him. It pained him to feel something other than pain for once.

“I haven’t been avoiding you.” He simply answered.

“Don’t bullshit me now.” Pang, there was that nagging feeling again, it felt like every newly formed word by you chiseled another piece of his heart. You examine his face, now tracing his face with your eyes. His wounds had never looked this horrid.

“Leave.” He stared at your face, suppressing all emotions that he felt coursing through his veins.

“I’m not leaving, tell me what’s going on. Mattheo, you can’t pretend that you’re not hurting. I can see right through you.” And for the very first time, you saw a tear roll down his cheek that had been threatening to fall for weeks now. It could finally breathe. He quickly turned away from you.

“Leave, y/n.” It didn’t even sound like a command, it sounded like he was pleading.

You cupped his cheeks and faced his head towards you. “Look at me. Look at me like you looked at me all those nights. Don’t deny it anymore, please.” You stared into his eyes and see the shattering of his facade.

“Don’t touch me.” His face was a mixture of emotions, anger, sadness, and fear. A lot was happening on Mattheo’s face, but there was one emotion that was clearly stronger than all of the others: love. “Look what you’ve done to me, y/n.” He closed his eyes and brought his hand to his face. “I can’t breathe.”

Your heart shattered at the sight of him, the obvious turmoil displayed on his face. You finally realized what you should have weeks ago. You fell utterly and insanely in love with him. There was no denying it anymore, you were in love with Mattheo Riddle. Even though he’d totally ruin you, you wanted him to ruin you. Because ruining you, meant he could be the one to build you up again. You’d let him, because you loved him.

Your gaze shifted to his lips and Mattheo realized your shift of gaze before it all clicked. It felt like the numbing feeling in his heart finally stopped, all because he fell in love. Something he never planned on doing, but he did. It was obvious, there was no denying it anymore, Mattheo Riddle was in love with you.

The moment between you two felt like hours. Mattheo couldn’t bring himself to speak. He wanted to know what the feeling was that he was experiencing, but it felt like someone had grabbed his heart and squeezed it tightly.

“I want to know…” He finally whispered, fighting to not cry right in your arms. “Please.” He mumbled. “I want to know what I’m feeling. Please.” He reached out to touch your hair with his soft fingertips, brushing them against your cheek.

He put his hand on the back of your neck, before pulling you closer. Before you could say anything, he pressed his lips against yours. The sensation was electric and both your lips moved in sync. His hands cradled your cheeks as if he didn’t want this moment to end. He didn’t want to stop kissing you. There were so many emotions he wanted to convey with that simple kiss.

He pulled away and locked your gaze, caressing your cheek.

“No bandages could ever heal my wounds, the way your lips and gaze heal the pain in my heart.”

#harry potter #fiction #slytherin #oneshot #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle #benjamin wadsworth #fanfic #fanfiction

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folklorefairyy · 10 months

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of glasses and grins - s.h

summary - in which steve really needs glasses but has a lifetime of insecurities that has him hiding them. lucky for him, his girlfriend knows just how to make him smile.

warnings - mentions of violence (punches), mentions of bullying (taunts/nicknames from other kids), insecurities, fem!reader, kissing and general relationship touching (nothing sexual), reader sits on steve’s lap

word count - 1.4k

authors note - this is inspired by a request from the lovely vic <3 which you can find here!

i know there’s a lot of headcanons about steve needing glasses due to his head injuries and that inspired his need to wear them more here! i remember seeing this months and months ago so if anyone knows any specific people that was big on that, i’d love to give credit!!

Steve Harrington had taken one too many blows to the head. On the receiving end of fists far too often it’s safe to say his body had felt their toll. His eyesight wasn't the best to begin with, having reading glasses in middle school. After receiving enough ‘geek’ or ‘four-eyes’ jokes he eventually put them to rest in the back of the drawer of his bedside table.

As ‘King Steve’ he ignored his need to squint when chatting in the back of class, or the migraine’s he’d endure, because he’d finally built an image he didn't want to tarnish. His reputation was fragile, and he'd much rather take a physical blow than one to his ego. Until he started getting hit, a lot, and suddenly the incessant migraines became more than a dull ache and the blurinnes was more than a smudge.

You had started dating Steve after highschool, not aware of past comments or cohorts, nor the journey that has led to your boyfriend constantly rubbing his eyes and having a few close calls with rogue tree branches when driving.

It was one movie night, snuggled on the sofa with your legs scrunched onto his lap, his strong arm pressing into your back and thumb smoothing over the exposed skin of your shoulder, that you finally voiced your concerns.

For the past half hour Steve had been watching the movie through one half-closed eye, trying desperately to get it to focus. Everytime you peered up at his face he simply looked down at you and winked, or stuck his tongue out, or did practically any adorably dorky facial expression you could name in order to distract you.

Raising your hand to thumb at his cheek, you whisper a ‘Baby,’ receiving a hum from him as he turns his attention to you. Steve thinks he could hear just about every pet name fall from your lips and never get enough of it; his heart feeling warm at the thought of being your anything.

‘Are your eyes bugging you?’ you prod softly. He shuts them with a sigh, head leaning into your palm which has spread across his cheek. He half-heartedly shakes his head no, more of a tilt than anything. Prompting again you plead, ‘Stevie, please don’t lie to me.’ Your voice is filled with such sweetness he feels guilty for all of his hiding, wondering how he could ever deny the honey in your voice.

‘A little,’ he finally confesses, voice more a whisper of breath than an actual sound. He feels a little silly, keeping his eyes shut to avoid his truth - that his eyes have been bugging him long before you got together. ‘They always hurt to be honest, usually just ignore it.’

His confession tugs at your heart, your sweet boy hiding a pain you can’t magically fix with the kisses and soft words you’d usually resort to.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ you ask feeling slightly wounded, like you’ve failed as a girlfriend for not knowing sooner. You move your thumb back and forth on his cheek, reassuring him you weren’t mad but concerned.

He peers up at you through heavy eyes, lips pulled between teeth in an anxious tell. ‘I knew you’d make me wear my glasses if I told you about them.’

You tut softly and lean to kiss between his brows, ‘Oh honey, what’s wrong with your glasses?’ The revelation shocked you momentarily, the prospect of your boyfriend in glasses a welcome image but an unexpected one.

He looks away from you again, old taunts swimming in his head. ‘I’d look stupid,’ he mutters. ‘You’d find me ugly or weird and wouldn’t want me anymore.’

You could sob at the confession, firstly for the inaccuracy but secondly because you can’t believe he’s been harbouring such insecurities. Moving to grasp his face in both hands you press a kiss to his lips this time, so sweet love itself bloomed between them. ‘Honey, if you need them to see you need them.’ Another meeting of lips to reassure him. ‘Plus I think you’d look handsome in just about any get-up.’ you whispered against his lips, brushing them with a soft smile.

The comment almost pulls Steve’s mouth into a smile of his own, but his past tugs them back down. ‘That’s real sweet baby, but no one else thought so and I wouldn't blame you either.’

At this point your desperation to have Steve rid himself of such thoughts takes over and you don’t think before you’re imbing onto his lap and squishing him to the sofa, face to face, chest to chest, trying very hard to make your point, as though the physical contact would make your opinion replace the one in his brain.

Eyes staring into his, but with an incredible softness that he always elicits, you try your best to convince him otherwise. ‘Firstly, Steve Harrington, glasses are a completely normal thing to have and so many people wear them. Whoever taught you otherwise can go suck it, and I’m sorry they made you uncomfortable wearing them.’

Your sudden brashness and the random full naming of him had his heart feeling a little lighter. You, however, were not done. ‘And secondly, my boyfriend is beautiful, and I know damn straight he is going to look so pretty in his glasses. If the mental images I’m seeing are anywhere near the real deal then I’m in trouble.’ A kiss to the freckles on his nose, your silent sign of ‘I love you.’ ‘I’m gonna have to fight off a lot of people when they get a look at you, trust me.’

At this he lets out a low chuckle, lips finally pulling into that grin you so love, the urge to kiss it only slightly overpowered by your pride in removing some of his sadness.

He leans up slowly and kisses your nose back, the smile still painting his lips as he pulls away. ‘Wow, sweetheart, you really do love me huh? Thinking I’d be wooing everyone and wanting to fight for me?’

Hands smoothing his hair back, you move nose to nose, their tips kissing, and whisper upon his growing grin, ‘Oh handsome, I’d go to war for you.’

At your confession, he pulls your body down to lay on the sofa, arms wrapping around your waist, and presses his weight into you, peppering kisses into your hair and your cheeks, until he finally reaches your lips. You’re both giggling, giddy with love and a connection between you that can't be described but only felt, for it’s uniquely yours.

He looks like an angel above you, hair curtaining his face, the halo of light from the lamp illuminating him in a honeyed glow. Hand returning to his cheek, it’s favourite spot to be, you press another kiss to his lips. ‘Can you please go get your glasses? I want to work out how many people I’ve got to plan on fighting.’

He presses another kiss back, ‘Oh my tough girl, how could I ever leave you unprepared.’ Steve pulls himself off you, not without reluctance and another peck, before running upstairs to venture in the spot of his drawer he always thought he’d leave untouched, trying to wish the taunts away but never quite succeeding.

As he crept back down the stairs that anxiety of being judged bloomed in his chest and he faltered on the last step. But then he spots the back of your head, perched on the sofa so patiently, knee bobbing up and down as your enthusiasm seeped through, and he knows, that you are the one person who could see past the glasses, who would love him regardless, and so he took the final step.

The creaking of the staircase grabs your attention as your eager head whips round so fast Steve swears you’ve given yourself whiplash. The biggest smile blooming on your face at the sight of Steve, a nervous smile on his own, decorated so beautifully with a pair of wide-lensed, silver glasses.

You rush from your seat, too gleeful to wait for him to come to you. Hands to face once again, cocooning it in that warm cage he so loved, you dote a hundred kisses to his cheeks, give or take, before leaning back to whisper softly, ‘Oh my beautiful boy, I am going to have to work on my punches.’

Steve let out a loud laugh, fresh with adoration, and pressed what was not to be the last kiss that evening to your lips. You were just so precious, true sweetness in your intentions. He may have thought he’d never wear them again, but he now thinks he won’t ever take them off, just to see that spark in your eyes reflected in the glass of his once hated frames.

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animeyanderelover · 8 months

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Can I request headcanon for fukuzawa yukichi from bsd , megumi nobara yuji and geto , gojo from jjk ? ( i love yukichi but if it's make u uncomfortable then you can change it to platonic )

I've written romantic Hc's for Jiraiya, honey, Fukuzawa is no problem.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusion, stalking, controlling behavior, manipulation, gaslighting, blackmailing, sadism, isolation, abduction, death

Multiple Yandere Hc's

Fukuzawa Yukichi

⚪ Fukuzawa as the president of the Armed Detective Agency fulfills all the expectations you'd imagine a man of his position to have. Serious and calm with a great sense of responsibility for his subordinates and the city of Yokohama. He's dedicated to everything he has built to ensure order and peace so that's what makes it all the more confusing and even downright disturbing as he slowly finds himself entrapped with his darling. Yukichi is no delusional fool, he's very lucid of the abyss his emotions slowly unwind into and it leaves him ever so slightly agitated. Obviously not with you as he knows that this isn't your fault but more with his own lack of self-control in this situation, the capability to even feel and think in such dark ways in the first place. Unable to find a solution to his problem, Fukuzawa does what he does best. Maintaining a calm face as he does his best to go about his days as usual.

⚪ The more time passes on, the worse it gets though as he ever so subtly starts showing signs that something isn't as it used to be. When Haruno serves him a cup of tea, he stares into the steaming cup a few seconds too long as his thoughts drift to you. The first time he wasn't even fully aware until Haruno asked him if something is wrong with the tea and he quickly pretends like everything is fine, flustered and embarrassed with what just happened. Zooming out for a few seconds becomes far more common than it should be and the realization that he's long lost control of his feelings weights very heavily on his shoulders. A while after stomaching this knowledge, you find Yukichi approaching you a bit more and engaging in occasional conversations with you, mindful and observing during those interactions. It's a curse for him more than a blessing that he's able to remember smaller details about you so much better, whether you tell him something about you or he notices a small quirk of yours merely by watching you. He doesn't want to admit it but he always ends up hyperfocusing when around you.

⚪ With a freshly developed obsession, Fukuzawa finds himself oftentimes overthinking about a lot of stuff. How often can he approach you without looking suspicious? Should he hold eye contact with you during conversations the entire time or is that creepy? If he asks you to call him by his first name, would that be weird? Underneath his serious persona, this man is so painfully awkward as he has zero experience about courting and even falling normally in love, his first love just happening to be his obsession is truly a bad joke of destiny. He has similar problems with jealousy as he has always struggles figuring out how much jealousy during which interactions would be suspicious. He isn't the type to be insanely jealous, to his own luck, but to say that it doesn't leave a bitter taste on his tongue would be a lie. It's uncomfortable, over time he finds his body going slightly rigid and his stare is heavy and intense which does intimidate your counterparts more than often. Worst of all is that Fukuzawa is never aware of all of this until someone points it out to him.

⚪ The Armed Detective Agency was created because of his want to see justice prevail and ensure that order and peace would always reign over Yokohama. Especially after realizing his obsession he puts more value into his morals as he fears to revert back to his days as an assassin. Days where he looked forward to killing another person. How far his fears are justified is up to debate but it's a big concern of the president nevertheless. He upholds his morals quite well though, the only hiccup in this all would probably be his overprotective behavior which at times just slips out. Whenever he notices that someone makes you uncomfortable he finds himself stepping in, as soon as he notices that something scares you he has the urge to protect you. What Fukuzawa ends up doing is scaring quite a few people due to his serious nature and the heavy feeling of authority that always surrounds him. He knows that there will be people after you though because you're dear to him and he would never hesitate to draw his sword to defend you against such people either.

⚪ A main reason why Yukichi attempts to keep his feelings hidden is precisely because he's aware that the Port Mafia and so many other people might come for you the moment information seek out that he loves you. Obviously every secret will eventually get revealed so the moment that happens, especially if you two are officially a couple at that point, he tightens the security in your life a tad bit more. He doesn't want to be too restricting about it all but he can't help but be worried, especially if you have no gift and are just a normal person. He wants to keep closer tabs on the Port Mafia just in case that they plan anything and if the Agency gets hold of any information regarding public attacks for whatever reason, he's rather demanding when telling you to stay away. This all is tolerable at least but that maintenance of self-restriction gets shattered the moment you get involved in serious danger which fuels Yukichi's paranoia and triggers him for an unknown amount of time to be a lot more controlling. His aura forbids any protest to the point where even you find yourself flinching intimidated if you try to argue with him about the tight boundaries he's made for you.

⚪ Ranpo figures out Fukuzawa's up until that point well-kept secret which includes the darker side to all of that but he's too close to the president to blame him for anything, especially since he realizes how troubled Fukuzawa himself is with the situation. Dazai is probably another member who gets behind the president's emotions too but he's more fascinated than worried. Most other members are just happy for Fukuzawa when news get out about his feelings and if you aren't a couple officially by that point, a lot of them would be up for the idea of helping him here and there. He rejects their help politely, secretly terrified to even think about what some of them would try to do to help. His affection has more of a gentlemanly approach to it, consisting of small and thoughtful presents, acts of service or nice dates. He has a soft spot for you and sometimes Agency members abuse that by pleading for your help against his anger if they've caused some problems. Also, the Agency loves teasing him when you manage to successfully fluster him in front of them to the point where his cheeks are covered with a hue of pink.

Itadori Yuji

🩷 Yuji is crushing so hard on his darling, it doesn't take much for others to notice that he has a fat crush on you. The boy is such a pure-hearted simp who will literally compliment his darling for anything, even if it's something minor like the shoes you chose to wear on that day or the way you style your hair. He focuses a lot on you and the stuff you're into and is actually fairly well in remembering it so Nobara definitely calls him out for knowing what you favorite food or your favorite colour is whilst forgetting things like when and where he's supposed to meet with her and Megumi on missions to track down curses. Itadori on the other hand is more confused when the people around you don't know certain information about you or don't notice habits or quirks of you which are so painfully obvious to him. He's a bit naive though as you can't exactly call him someone who actually notices that his hyperfixation is not normal. The boy is just a bit dense at times...All the time.

🩷 He's clingy at a level where it is noticable but not quite there to be suffocating or creepy in the eyes of others as Yuji shows some respect for your boundaries. Needless to say though, he would love to spend a lot of time with you whenever both of you are free and whenever he isn't busy with matters involving the jujutsu sorcerers. Even whilst in company of people like Megumi, Nobara or even Gojo and Nanami he often pulls out his phone to see if you're online to chat with you and when all of that doesn't work, he just looks at photos he took of you. You weren't aware in all of them that he took them but Yuji literally can't resist at moments when you just look too gorgeous and adorable. His mood gets for sure affected after a while of not being in contact with you though as he starts sulking around and grumbles significantly more. Considering the world he was thrown into ever since becoming Sukuna's vessel, Yuji has become more protective over his s/o as he could never even bear the thought of them being attacked or even killed by a curse.

🩷 He'd like to think that he isn't obvious when jealous of someone but all his friends can assure him that he's just kidding himself. There's a scowl on his face that gets more prominent as time passes on, he's drumming his fingers against whatever surface is there and is shaking his leg as time ticks by and he gets visibly more impatient as he wonders what in the world could be so engrossing about them. He feels neglected and that is not a nice feeling so if he's had enough he will just squeeze himself in whatever interaction you're currently having with them. It would be only fair to say that Yuji isn't the type to be insanely jealous around others but he just dislikes when he's with you and you ignore him in favor of someone else. He likes your friends, he makes an effort to befriend them too and is cool with all of them as long as no one of them is crushing on you. Something that will definitely trigger him is when he catches someone flirting with his darling because then he's not hesitating to storm over and put himself in between you and the other person with a facial expression that just screams that he's unhappy.

🩷 Itadori has his morals straight when it comes to killing a human. It's morally and ethically just plainly wrong in his eyes as he doesn't see himself as someone who has the right to do so. Killing a human is a last resort in his opinion and so as long as someone hasn't done something truly disgusting to you, he normally doesn't murder anyone for you. He mostly just intimidates and scares people away from you if they've wronged you, although he has probably also gotten into physical fights as the urge to punch someone who has just been a terrible jerk to you isn't always something he can suppress. Your personal simp is physically very strong and athletic though so don't worry, he has won every brawl so far. That makes him for the most part harmless but if someone does manage to genuinely anger him, his hatred stays forever and is very intense.

🩷 One to give you lots of freedom, Itadori isn't someone who would consider ever isolating or restricting you in any way. He prioritizes your happiness a lot and goes above and beyond to make sure you're always in a good mood. Obviously he always tells you about staying away from certain areas when he knows that a curse might be there and it isn't uncommon for him to insist for you to let him accompany you when you have to go somewhere and he has information that something might be lurking around there. Other than this stuff and his clinginess he isn't very controlling but that's mainly because he has never truly experienced what it would feel like if you were to be in serious danger and honestly, he doesn't really want to consider such a terrible thing at all. That is going to make it all the more earth-shattering for Yuji though if it ever happens as that is the moment where he truly feels like he should have done more to protect you. Even if it would have meant invading your privacy and freedom.

🩷 Nobara is at times that close to smacking him with the amount of times Itadori spends gushing about you, she's still happy for him though. Megumi has chosen to just ignore Yuji's rambling, Gojo at times supports him much to the distraught of Nobara. Yuji, once in a relationship, is very dedicated and eager. He constantly goes on little dates with you as soon as he has time and wastes far more money than he should on small presents like snacks or cute little accessories such as key fobs. Text him or call him to inform him that you need something and he's on his way to retrieve it for you, even if he has to walk across the entirety that is Tokyo. That's just how much down bad he is for you. If it wouldn't be for Sukuna who lives inside of him, Yuji would have little to no worries. The curse definitely knows about Yuji's obsession even if the boy denies it when he points it mockingly out. There are times where Sukuna provokes Yuji even as he knows that you're his biggest weakness, threatens to hurt you the next time he gains control. Itadori's surprisingly dark response never fails to amuse and even impress the curse.

Fushiguro Megumi

💙 Megumi already has enough drama going on in his life. His step-sister is in a coma, his father and step-mother have abandoned him and his sister years ago, the Zenin clan tries to claim him and he has to deal with the antics of Gojo, Yuji and Nobara. In between all of this hassle there is you, a disease to his heart and mind as you quickly become a large part of the young man's daily routine. Astonishing, considering that you never see Megumi that often in person but it doesn't need two to watch you, Megumi all by himself is enough. He doesn't know how he should really approach you with all of those confusing emotions swirling around inside of him so stalking is the best option he can come up with. It might sound creepy but just seeing you is almost therapeutic as his mind just clears for those moments from all the stress and the annoyance he normally feels as he just focuses on you. This leads him at one point to impulsively feel the urge to see you whenever he's confronted with something that gets on his nerves and makes him uncomfortable so Megumi starts becoming slightly co-dependent on you.

💙 He's a good observer and all the stalking really shows results as time passes on as Megumi essentially knows a lot of stuff about you he shouldn't know considering how little you know of him. Partially Megumi is lucid enough to know that his behavior isn't normal after all which is why he never tells anyone about you nor is he dumb enough to let you ever find out. Envisioning the drama that would break out the moment people would find out is enough to give him already a headache and he can't risk under any circumstances to scare you. With that said though, Megumi is at best semi-aware though as his own moral code isn't quite as honorable as Itadori's is and this only gets tainted more in black as his darling rises up to be his biggest priority. He justifies any action he takes with their safety in mind and this makes it surprisingly easy for Megumi to commit certain crimes without feeling even an ounce of guilt, the only exception are your tears if his actions should scare and horrify you. You have to believe him though, it was all done for you.

💙 Megumi is so secretive and aloof, you barely remember seeing his facial expression be something else than neutral so you never consider the possibility of him being potentially jealous. Funny considering that Megumi is one of the more jealous people out there. Are you surprised by that? There are a few factors that play into this and the main reason would be his paranoia out of his insecurities. Megumi is in a tough position, sold to the Zenin clan by his father if it wouldn't have been for Gojo who in return forced him into becoming a jujutsu sorcerer and he only really has partially accepted this because he wants to save Tsumiki. Even if he has no connection to the Zenin Clan anymore, they still won't leave him alone either and he might just be forced into becoming the next head of the clan. You're the only good thing in his life so it shouldn't be a surprise that he is so easily irritated, jealous of even close friends of yours. Jealous and insecure of anyone who can make you smile and who makes you happy as it only aggravates his insecurity and in return fuels his possessiveness which fluctuates strongly depending on his own confidence in the moment.

💙 We've already touched the subject before but let's take a deeper look. Megumi is prone to committing acts of violence more often as he hates bad people and good people who are too merciful. His paranoid overprotective antics only make it worse as he feels a rather overwhelming urge to shield you and protect you from everyone and everything bad in this world. I consider it likely that he's the type to threaten and scare people away even if you plan to forgive them as he most likely ends up seeing you as someone far too forgiving, something he normally hates in people and which he occasionally despises in you too when you cling onto someone who in his mind does not deserve your forgiveness. You're brushed off as too naive as he decides to just secretly take care of the problem as he's paranoid that if you'd find out, you'd try to leave him. Megumi is calculative and careful due to his fear to be abandoned by you and potentially be replaced.

💙 With all this talk of his paranoia, insecurities and his overprotectiveness it's by now probably obvious that there is the underlying threat of being abducted and that can be caused by multiple triggers. Megumi is most likely already the type who likes to be alone with you as it is as other people make him uncomfortable. He just wants you alone for himself without you ignoring him for your friends due to his quietness or all the people around you two whose eyes he can't help but feel like linger on you. That's most of the time only a byproduct of his imagination out of paranoia but Megumi is strong when it comes to overthinking to the point that he feels a tightness in his chest when he notices that someone has been following you two for a while now even when they just happen to walk into the same direction as you and if they stare at you for a second too long, he assumes worse. A relationship with him demands already sacrifices as you spend a lot of time with him alone inside as he's most comfortable there. If there would ever be a day where you get in grave danger, try to leave him or he simply assumes that you plan to replace him with someone better, you're done for.

💙 Megumi isn't all that good after all even if you might think of him as someone calm and composed all the time. Surely he is calculative and observant but let me tell you, on the inside he's most of the time just a possessive and insecure mess who just happens to be exceptionally good in hiding it. The jujutsu sorcerer finds himself often guilt-tripping and manipulating you into staying with him inside and not inviting your friends over when you want to do something with him. He has to allow you to spend time with others from time to time to avoid any arguments but that doesn't mean that he's happy with it. In some cases he's actually so paranoid and insecure that he ends up stalking you. One could argue that this means that he doesn't trust you but Megumi would see it more as him not trusting others with you. Although yes, he has this irrational fear of you finding someone you like more than him. That might be possible for you but he literally only has you so you'd shatter his heart and his last bit of self-restraint with it.

Kugisaki Nobara

🔨 Nobara is maybe just a bit iffy at the beginning about her crush which descends dangerously into obsessive territory as she can't help but feel disappointed as she normally prides herself on being strong and level-headed. Also, under her brash and confident facade she is very caring and due to that she can't help but think ahead and worry what that might imply for you. Unwilling to slip up and risk her position as a jujutsu sorcerer, she holds her head high and carries on as usual. That works so so on days as you always return onto her mind and it is angering as much as it is weirdly enjoyable. Nobara's confidence makes her sort of possessive over her darling as well as sort of semi-delusional. She isn't as insecure as Megumi is so she doesn't shy away from approaching you and befriending you, confident that she can charm her darling and be a good lover and girlfriend for them so that definitely makes her a tad bit more arrogant at times around others who might have a crush on you too.

🔨 The woman is rarely actively manipulating her darling as she wants to stay true to herself and refuses to rely on lies unless it's the only option left. Obviously she keeps curses and the world of jujutsu sorcerers a secret from you if you're just a normal citizen in Tokyo but otherwise she never lies to you and her outspoken and brash personality plays a huge part in that. She doesn't tolerate any bullshit from you though even if she loves you dearly so there is an air of strictness to her. She isn't a hard simp as Yuji is nor is she as paranoid as Megumi, she is a stable middle who reprimands you when you've done something wrong and does the same if someone has treated you the wrong way. Nobara isn't overly strict of course but in cases she is, she ususally expects you to listen as she is acting that way in particular when it concerns your own health and in most cases she won't accept any excuses from you.

🔨 She is reasonable and would never be irrationally jealous or at least she pretends she isn't, even when she is. She knows all of your friends and she's on good terms with all of them so she doesn't think that there is any need to be jealous of one of them. Nobara refuses to be influenced by her jealousy and start acting ridiculous, those are your friends who you've known longer than her in most cases after all. If someone tries to flirt with you though or thinks that they have a chance, she can't help but curl her lips in displeasure and disbelief as she scoffes. Now, now, even if you two aren't officially together at time she surely won't let some wannabe ogle at you and think that you're easy. Her comments are passive-aggressive as she ends up getting into the one or other argument at times. She's quite unshakable though as most people underestimate her confidence and always end up giving up. She denies your teasing words about her being jealous though, sometimes even scolds you for allowing them to continue in the first place because if you would have, she wouldn't have needed to interfere.

🔨 Nobara finds herself once again more in the middle between between Megumi and Yuji. She isn't as merciful as Yuji nor is she as overly paranoid as Megumi is. Don't get her wrong now, this girl is fiercely protective over you and as soon as she realizes that someone makes you uncomfortable or scares you, she tells them off angrily, even if they didn't do it on purpose. If someone does scare you on purpose or makes you intentially uncomfortable, she's all the more furious. She doesn't hesitate to execute any curses that interfere with your life, it's literally her job to kill as a jujutsu sorcerer so she came in prepared. Humans are a different calibre though so she obviously doesn't go around exorcising them nor can she use in most cases her Cursed Energy or her tools unless they also happen to be sorcerers. But she never takes bullshit from anyone so as soon as someone harms you somehow or uses you, she comes in to your rescue, ready to unload. You don't want to mess with her even if she doesn't use her weapons as Nobara has a temper and won't quit until the person has either admitted their wrongdoings and made it up or she has driven them away from you.

🔨 She has despised her childhood where she was stuck in the countryside all the time and she has set herself some boundaries within her obsession to have limits and abduction is certainly one of them. She hates the idea of restricting you and imprisoning you as she'd see it as a loss to herself by letting her own feelings influence her. Nobara is level-headed so chances of an abduction are fairly low as she works, admittedly, very hard behind the scenes to not let anyone or anything harm you. She's the tiniest bit controlling in the sense that she wants to know about the people beside herself that you have in your life to know who she has to lecture if something happens and she also expects you to tell her if you're in troubles or someone gives you a hard time. I can't really see an abduction or restrictions within your personal life happening unless a curse attacks you and or you're seriously injured in which case Nobara insists on spending more time guarding and protecting you and also wants you to stick to her advice she gives you no matter what, especially if you're still recovering.

🔨 She wouldn't want to isolate you for the fact alone that she loves going out with you, exploring the city and enjoying her new life. If you've lived here your entire life, she definitely wants you to show her around and take her to your favorite shops and restaurants. She isn't one to spoil but she definitely enjoys taking her darling out when she goes shopping and wants your opinion on certain outfits that catch her eye. If she sees something that she thinks would look good on you, she always insists for you to try it on and she's very persistent so she wins you over most of the time. Fashion is important for her so I can't help but feel like she'd like to doll you up from time to time and let her choose your outfit. Couple outfits will be a thing between the two of you, you can not convince me otherwise. She isn't one to actively gush over her darling all the time but if they have a hobby in which they excel or they do something of which she's proud about, she brags about it to her friends such as Yuji.

Gojo Satoru

🩵 Gojo is someone who enters your life without any warning and refuses to leave you alone forever after. You may do your best to avoid him or tell him as friendly as possible that you'd like him to leave you alone for a bit but nothing works as he chooses serenely to let everything fly over his head. Sweetie, he's not leaving you. He's here to stay whether you want him to or not, perhaps you just need a bit of time to get to know him better. Something you should know is that better than him isn't possible so he blatantly looks down on whoever you might show a prefence to or who might have any intentions to court you. This white-haired annoyance is one clingy man with no intention to give you any room to breathe. Admittedly, a part of him sometimes just likes annoying you and he's a master in it but for the most part Gojo has just an unquenchable desire to be with you as you manage to make him aware of something he didn't want to acknowledge for years now. His undeniable loneliness that comes with being the strongest, the still lingering diappointment of Riko's death and the searing scars left forever by Geto's betrayal. Never again. He'll never let someone else leave him or die on him again.

🩵 Despite his obvious playfullness, Satoru is very possessive over his darling and combined with his unbearable clinginess, that makes for one smothering presence. He's shameless and ruthless when it comes to being the most important person in your life and that transcends far beyond your crushes or love rivals. Your friends, acquaintances and even your own family get entangled into this mess and whilst he wouldn't actively hurt them, as long as they treat you well and don't try to tell you to stay away from him, he'd still expect you to choose him without any moment's hesitance over them because he'd do the same. Beyond his nonchalant and arrogant facade, Gojo is more paranoid and protective than he'd ever show to anyone besides maybe you. He's the strongest sorcerer for sure but the paranoia that something might be wrong and the additional stress his clan gives him as they're clearly unhappy with his choice of partner wear him down. He isn't invincible after all.

🩵 I'd label him as more possessive than jealous as his confidence is through the roof and he judges people mostly only based on their strength alone so with him being the strongest sorcerer in the world, he looks down on most people in your life. Gojo is the type who scares people out of your life without much remorse. One glare is often enough to make someone turn around and avoid you as long as the tale male is with you which is unfortunately more often than you're comfortable with. Turning your attention away from him and ignoring him for someone else never goes down well as he's clearly displeased when you choose to do so and he chooses to be an asshole in return, condescending and talking down to whoever it is you're conversing with at the moment and with his height and his heavy glare he never fails to scare them away. Gojo causes you a lot of problems with his overflowing affection as at one point everyone believes him to be your boyfriend and he does nothing but worsen it more and more.

🩵 I've already said it, I'll say it again. Gojo has little to no remorse for scaring, hurting or even murdering people for you. He barely tolerates anyone besides himself in your life and there is little space left for family and friends with him but they at least get the minimum of respect from him. Everyone else is a free game and then it's completely up to Satoru's own mood what he does with them. He is sadistic so he finds it amusing seeing someone cower in fear the moment he confronts them because they tried to interfere with the relationship. Most people once mess up and then never show their face in front of you again out of sheer fear of Gojo and it leaves you alone and isolated most time as he doesn't even spare friends and family from it if they do something that they shouldn't have done in his eyes. Nothing will help someone though if they've harmed his darling though and their death will be nothing short of excruciating, he literally doesn't care if it's a curse, a human, a sorcerer, executive or someone else. He won't let anyone ever touch a strand of your hair in the wrong way, he promises.

🩵 An abduction with Gojo is not avoidable and it'll happen soon, sweetheart. Satoru is maybe just a bit crazy about the aspect of controlling and monitoring you so he can know where you are the entire time and that is partially influenced by his protective side. He initially tries to talk you into moving in with him and tries to make it sound as appealing as possible. You can design the rooms however you like, you would have access to all of his seemingly limitless bank accounts and you'd never have to work again. It'd be just the two of you. It might sound tempting at first but there are also some hidden implications there. Because you wouldn't be able to leave the house without his permission and he'd install a security system which would in emergency situations shut all windows and doors, allowing pretty much only him to enter and leave. It sounds good in his mind and he'd be very happy if you'd willingly follow him in what is essentially a luxurious prison but your consens isn't needed. Don't blame and cuss at him though, he did give you a chance to choose the better option.

🩵 Gojo never listens to you when it involves you telling him to respect your privacy or when you beg and plead him to let you go as he doesn't take you seriously. You can play hard to get if you want to, you can try to despise him as much as you want but that only mean isolation and even less space for you as he forcefully inserts himself in your daily routine as much as he wants to. You're able to get away with a lot of things simply because Gojo doesn't deem you as any threat to him but that doesn't mean that you can be a brat all you want. Perhaps a reminder of what he's capable off should help you to control your temper a bit better. He's just saying, he could easily break your legs or ruin friends and family of yours. Why don't you just give in? The future would be bright and filled with everything you'd want as the man would ensure to spoil you rotten and since he's good in almost everything he tries, he can easily pick up anything for the sole purpose of impressing you. Don't abuse his trust though because around you Gojo actually feels secure enough to be vulnerable which takes a lot for him to do. So if you'd ever try to escape him, you'd see what lies beyond that playful grin of his.

Geto Suguru

🗻 You get to know him yet really don't under the disguise of a Buddhist priest you often find yourself visiting his temple after the advice of a friend as recently you have experienced weird dreams and feel constantly tired and heavy. A curse clinging to you yet you don't know that and are simply another monkey who collects curses for him. That is all you are, a monkey who Geto so desperately wants to murder yet something about you is different, something that Suguru can't quite pinpoint but it's enough for you to stay permanently on his mind, much to his disdain. His hatred for all non-sorcerers makes Geto quite dangerous as his sworn hatred constantly clashes with his ever-growing affection which he locks away deep inside of himself. Newfound hatred specifically pointed against you has led him multiple times close to allowing curses to kill you yet none of them do so in the end as if sensing that the Curse User himself isn't able to do so, his own will the thing that ultimately always stops them and with that the manifestation of his weakness, his soft spot. A human.

🗻 His love is twisted as the knowledge that he feels so strongly about a non-sorcerer throws him into a new abyss of his mind and it reveals a sadistic, possessive and controlling side of himself. He uses his curses to haunt you and wear you down to force you into visiting him far often since his presence helps you as he puts on his most charming fake persona to lure you into a sense of security. Some of the more intelligent curses are used to spy on you and deliver information whilst Suguru is busy conjuring up his plan to murder every other non-sorcerer. He's very manipulative as he slowly gets into your head as his advice of what you should do help you as he orders the curses to leave you if you do as he tells you and it foolishly leads you into trusting him as you open up to him about a lot of things. You're blinded by his gentle smile and charming attitude, almost too trusting but that's alright. Suguru gradually comes to term with his feelings as he starts changing his perspective. Animals have an order about who is better than others and if the rest of non-sorcerers is a bunch of crude monkeys, he likes to see you as a fine and rare feline, as something more sophisticated and elegant.

🗻 Jealousy would require for him to feel threatened or insecure by someone and with his condescending look on non-sorcerers, that never happens. Now, obviously you don't know anything about sorcerers and curses, still blissfully naive about the true danger the man in front of you really is but Suguru shows lenience. You might be slightly above monkeys but ultimately you're still underneath sorcerers so he can't expect you to know any better just yet. If there is something going on in your life though such as someone courting you, you crushing on someone or, heaven forbid, you actually getting into a relationship with someone, he always finds out. His anger shortly flares up when he's informed about it but the next time you see him, he has reassumed that gentle smile that always calms you down. Non-sorcerers shouldn't even be able to touch you and leave their stench on you, he definitely needs you to drop anyone who would even think of you in that way. You're better than that, he'll help you remove the bad influence scum has on you. Normally you always trust him with such matters so if he ever finds out that you've kept something like that a secret from him, he views it as an act of disobedience.

🗻 Suguru's goal is it to isolate you from everyone, including your own friends and family as all of them are disgusting, soon to be dead anyways. He can easily discard people around him if they are non-sorcerers or should stand in his way and even if it is irritating to see you struggle to do the same, he tries to be reasonable. You don't know any better after all, you were born into their world and are brainwashed but that's alright. Because he will fix everything for you. Perhaps the scariest part of all is that Geto truly believes to do you a favor as you haven't seen how ugly the weak are and what they do to cling onto the delusion that they aren't. Everyone you cherish holds no worth to him besides maybe bait to manipulate and blackmail you once you've taken your rose-tinted glasses off and realize what he really is capable of. Their worth lasts for him only that long though before he decides to cut all of your ties with them completely, removing everyone from your life and leaving you all alone. Don't waste any time crying over them as they aren't worth it. They aren't even worth remembering, he can promise you that soon you'll stop caring about them altogether.

🗻 An abduction is a guarantee and merely bears the question of when it will happen. Suguru has to make some preparations for that day though as he knows that he needs to inform his fellow curse users and the curses that aren't aware of it yet about his new addition soon. It goes against anything he stands for and fights for and Suguru fully understands that but ultimately he manages to convince them as he emphasizes that you are in no way an equal, words he truthfully means. You're a possession he plans to keep and whilst he shall cherish and treasure you, you'll also have to learn how to submit and obey as soon as you're taken in. Everything comes crashing down onto you on the day where you enter the temple but never leave again as Geto finally pulls the rug out from under you and reveals who he truly is. A smile that once comforted you now terrifies you as freedom and privacy are rights taken away from you unless you follow his rules and obey. You wouldn't want to disappoint him and earn yourself a punishment after all, would you?

🗻 Your life is never the same afterwards as it is, in fact, not your own anymore. It all lays now in Suguru's hands who is the one orchestrating your whole life. You have a strict set of rules that you always have to follow and for most things that aren't included in your schedule, you need to ask for permission from him and silently accept if he denies you your request. You're always watched when he isn't at home, either by other curse users or by curses. The latter is especially terrifying as he never informs you fully in the beginning of the world of sorcerers fully simply to test you and let you bask in the illusion of having a chance to escape when in reality you don't. Geto always finds you and hands out a punishment for your failed attempt, keeps the secret up for a while until he decides to tell you the whole truth, slightly disappointed with how often you might have tried to run away at that point and by this point, the knowledge that you were always watched and never had a chance to begin with cracks something inside of you and the new world you find yourself in terrifies you.

#yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #yandere fukuzawa #yandere fukuzawa yukichi #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere itadori #yandere itadori yuji #yandere megumi #yandere fushiguro megumi #yandere nobara #yandere kugisaki nobara #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere geto #yandere geto suguru

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justlemmeadoreyou · 7 months

Text

Trepidation^

Summary: (this ask) i was wondering if you could write one where harry feels a bit neglected when reader has an important meeting coming up or something, so she's missing date nights and stuff, a little angst if you please.

Word count: 2k

Pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing

masterlist | ask box

Harry sat alone in your dimly lit apartment, a heavy sadness weighing on his heart. He had been feeling neglected lately, as your demanding job had taken precedence over your relationship. It seemed as though each passing day brought more missed date nights and canceled plans, leaving him with a growing sense of loneliness and insecurity.

Tonight was supposed to be your special date night, a chance for you both to reconnect and forget about the outside world for a while. But once again, you had been called away for an important meeting, leaving Harry to face the emptiness of their once vibrant love life. Tears welled up in his eyes as he stared at the untouched dinner on the table, a painful reminder of what could have been.

Feeling a deep ache in his chest, Harry couldn't help but wonder if he was no longer enough for you. Thoughts of inadequacy and doubt filled his mind, tormenting him with the fear that he was being replaced by your demanding career. The anguished silence of the apartment only amplified his sorrow, as every passing second felt like a confirmation of his deepest fears.

His mind drifted to the countless nights you both had spent together, laughing, talking, and sharing their dreams. How you would hold your hands in his and you both would just lie in your shared bed, relishing in the comfortable silence and presence of each other. You had built a life together in the two years you had been with each other, promising to always prioritize each other's happiness. But now, it seemed as though those promises had been forgotten, lost in the chaos of your professional success.

He didn’t oppose your work, it was one of the things he respected the most about you. But, lately, it was all you cared about. You were about to get a promising position as a promotion in your job, and you were working day and night to make sure you got it. He supported you in that too. He started to stay home longer to take care of your dog, oreo. He even prepared meals for you throughout the day, making sure you got the proper nutrition for working so hard. He sent you multiple texts, checking in on you throughout the day.

But, completely prioritising your work might not have been the best idea. You had not been able to spend any time with your boyfriend, let alone sit and relax with him, in quite a while. It wasn’t your intention, but it had all gone south and you had to give all your time to your job. It was like Harry was the only one in the relationship now, and he felt like a one-sided lover.

The weight of his sadness grew unbearable, he questioned whether you still loved him or not. The ache in his heart was not just from the missed date nights, but from the sense of abandonment that had settled in your once warm and loving home, that shone with your love that lit it up.

Harry longed for the days when your presence brought him comfort and joy. He yearned for the laughter and the stolen moments of affection that had once defined their relationship. Now, all he felt was the sting of neglect and the bitter taste of unfulfilled promises.

He yearned for your presence, your touch, even a proper look at your pretty face.

As the night grew darker, Harry couldn't help but cry out silently, his tears blending with the shadows that engulfed him. He wanted nothing more than to be seen and cherished by you, to be loved by you, to feel the warmth of your love once again.

In the depths of his broken heart, Harry hoped that you would realize the pain you were causing and make a change. He yearned for the day when they could rediscover the love that had brought them together, and finally mend the broken pieces of your neglected relationship

Harry felt you slipping away, and he didn’t really know how to catch you.

With hot tears streaming down his face, he took off the jacket of the tuix he had worn for tonight. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the tiny box that held all of his feelings for you. Opening it, he revealed the shiny diamond ring that he had bought two months ago, before your relationship fell into a messy blunder.

A tear fell into the soft foam beneath the ring and he tried to wipe it off aggressively. He wanted to keep it safe and shiny and pretty, so he could give it to you when the time was right, and ask you to marry him. Now, he wasn’t even sure if you wanted that.

If he wanted that.

. . .

You came home quite late, and it was around 2 am on the clock. With a tote bag stuffed with bottles of alcohol and a smile that wouldn’t go away.

You had gotten the promotion.

“Harry?” you called around the house, as soon as you entered.

You reached the kitchen, where you found the table arranged, with plates and wine glasses.

Fuck.

You and Harry had a date.

How could you forget? You both had been planning this for so long, finally being able to make a plan and spend the night together. He had even gone shopping over the weekend to make you your favorite pasta, even though it was his holiday after a whole week of work.

How could you forget?

You reached the table and put the alcohol aside, looking at the casserole full of food.

He hadn’t eaten.

You felt heartbroken, all the happiness and glory you were carrying for the past few hours, fading away into a dull ache in your heart. He had put so much effort into making this night special and perfect. He bought the red wine you loved, made dinner for you, set up plates and was probably waiting for you for hours.

And you couldn’t even be bothered to text him.

A tear escaped your eyes, and you started to search for Harry throughout the house.

Entering the bedroom, you saw him there, sitting at the foot of the bed. He was wearing a suit.

A damn suit.

He had put so much effort, and all you had done was get drunk over a stupid promotion. You had completely ignored him, just caring about your job and the money you were going to get. All the while he cared about your relationship.

You did not deserve him.

You walked over to him, taking a look at his face. His cheeks were tear-stained, and he looked so broken and sad. In pain. That you had caused him.

He was crying, and had probably passed out on the floor, waiting for you.

Sitting down beside him, you pulled his hand into yours. You were drunk and sad, and he was asleep. You just decided to talk to him like that, so he wouldn't have to see your awful face.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I’m so so sorry. And not just today. Everything. For every bit of pain that I have caused you, for every tear that rolled down your cheek because of me. I ignored you. I neglected you. I ignored our beautiful relationship. I ruined it."

Proper tears were flowing down your eyes now, clouding your vision enough to not realize that he had woken up and opened his eyes.

"I had it. I had you. I had fucking everything in my hands. And I ruined it. I just-I just can't keep good things when they come to me, can i? I just always have to go ahead and fuck everything up. Throw everything out for just a bunch of money? God, how pathetic is that? And you know-I wasn’t just doing it to earn some extra money. I did it because-because my working hours would be reduced and-and I would have to work less. Less work. More you. More Harry." you giggled at your sappiness, before continuing, "And I'm sorry, Harry. So fucking much. I really am. for ruining our relationship. For making you cry. For all the perfect efforts you did for us, and I-I just let it go down the drain. I'm so so sorry."

"And you know, I understand. I understand that you are angry with me, and don't ever want to talk to me ever again. For how bad i fucked up. And I" a few fresh tears flew down as you prepared yourself to say ``I-I would I would get it if you want to break up. Even I wouldn't want to be in a relationship with me."

"Hey! How could you say that!" you flinched, his raspy voice making you shiver.

"What-I thought you-you were asleep."

"I was. And thank god I woke up, because the one time you properly talk to me, is when you are drunk and I'm passed out."

You weren't sure if it was a joke, but it made your heart break even more.

"I'm really sorry…" you started to sob, and he quickly pulled you into his arms.

"Shh. Don't apologize. You've apologized enough. I get it. I really do. When I neglected our relationship-when I was releasing my new album or going on tour, you stayed strong throughout. You never made me feel like I was ruining our relationship. you helped and supported me, when I needed it the most. I wanted to do the same too, but I just-just kinda broke down today. It just all came crashing down on me."

Your face formed a pout, and he kissed you sweetly on your lips.

"It's alright. I understand. Don't think too much about all that stuff you just said. I mean-I was a bit sad, because I thought that I wasn't your priority anymore. I thought you loved your work more than me. And I do too, you know, sometimes. And I'm sorry if I made you feel like you aren't enough."

"So you won't break up with me?" you asked, another quiet sob escaping your lips.

"No, silly. Why would I break up with you? I want to support you even more now. Throughout your work till you get the promotion, I will be by your side. I won't let you feel less again. Ever."

You sat up straighter, wanting to give him the good news.

"About that. I-I uh, I got the-the promotion."

His face softened, and he looked so fucking happy.

"WHAT!?" He exclaimed, and pulled you in for a tight hug, that knocked out the breath from your lungs.

"Yeah. I got the promotion today. My project was finally approved and my interview was last week and I cleared it."

He was smiling so big, and there were tears flowing down his cheeks.

Not sad tears, happy ones.

Because of you.

"My sweet girl. I love you so much. And I'm so so proud of you. Gonna love on you so much tonight."

You smiled at his happiness, finally feeling the ache in your chest go away, into loads of butterflies from the way he was looking at you.

He held you tightly in his arms, his chest now swollen with pride for you. How much you have achieved. How much you worked hard, all the rough times you had to go through, but it was all worth it in the end.

After a few moments of holding each other, your stomach grumbled.

"You hungry?" he asked, swiping his thumb across the apple of your cheek.

"Yeah. You made pasta?"

"Mhm, your favorite. You are gonna love it."

"I know. I always do. And I love you, Harry."

"I love you too, sweet girl. Now go and clean yourself up. I'll put the food in the microwave and heat it. Hurry, I have lots of things I want to do tonight." he said, his left hand swiping across the ring box in his pocket.

. . .

taglist:

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prefer-to-be-vilified · 1 year

Text

Enid: You never talk about your feelings Wednesday. Healthy relationships can only be built on trust and communication.

Wednesday: Sometimes, when you look at me, I become so overwhelmed by my love for you that I feel the need to carve myself open, peel back my flesh, and pull you inside of me in a love crazed attempt to protect your innocence from the horrors of this world.

Enid: That’s… sweet? In a really disturbing way. But sweet nonetheless.

Wednesday: I like my feelings better when they stay on the inside. Wouldn’t you agree Enid?

Enid: I do feel a little nauseous. But as your girlfriend I accept all parts of you. Even the disgustingly morbid parts.

Wednesday: Huh… I thought that would work.

Enid: Did you just try to scare me into shutting up about healthy communication?

Wednesday: Don’t be stupid… That is obviously what I did.

Enid: I can’t believe you. Do you even want to hide me in your internal flesh prison? Or was that a lie too?

Wednesday: Cara Mia if I were able to consume you without harming you you’d already be there.

Enid: Aw, baby. You say the sweetest things. But if you don’t start talking about your feelings I will personally carve you open and pry them out of you myself.

Wednesday, flirtatiously: You promise?

#wednesday #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair #enid x wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022 #incorrect wednesday quotes #incorrect wednesday addams #incorrect wednesday #incorrect wenclair #ptbv

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cloveroctobers · 2 months

Text

FEBRUARY FLUFF — CARMY BERZATTO.

A/N: so carmy won this time around!!! Thanks to all those that voted and ultimately made this decision for me lol. Hope you guys enjoy this and have a safe, healthy, and happy love season 🩷 + yes this is a mixture of fluff and angst...i mean come on! I wouldn't be me if i didn't include that in here somewhere!

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + HERE & I’m using: 1. “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.” “What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?” + always giving the other the first bite of their food < or the last.

WARNINGS/SN: I wrote with a black or brown reader in mind although reader isn't physically described + they’re given a name only when mentioned, language is a thing here duh!, this is LENGTHY, lots of timelines: reader + nat became friendly before season 1 during the summer prior to 7 fishes which is estimated to be five years before season 2, reader knows of carmy due to past work, I feel like she can be just a few year(s) older than carmy but younger than nat—there’s a age gap for the Berzatto’s anyways, sexual relations are mentioned, this piece takes place months after the grand opening, & finally there’s a possible chance for a poly relationship or maybe just multiple crushes going on? Take that how you will.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

it was a Sunday.

The kind of Sunday you woke up embarrassed about but knew you had to swallow your pride and just send out that text. You knew you wouldn’t be judged regardless reaching out to Fak because he’s built to deal with things like this and never made you feel like shit about anything.

You usually had to squeeze it out of him to get him to lay out any cons about a situation but appreciated most times when he didn’t. Your minds been going haywire with a recent assignment as a food journalist and it really slipped your mind, although you were usually a quick thinker, you’ve been stressed over this recent restaurant. Thankfully it clicked for you after throwing a tantrum to simply reach out to Fak to come help you out.

The stupid lever in your bathroom decided to stop flushing on you and of course you panicked. Who wouldn’t panic in a situation like that? You no longer had a roommate and strongly debated if you even wanted to search for another; after the shady actions of the previous one, so you really didn’t have to worry about them giving you shit either. (Let’s see if your rent feels the same next month!)

It was just you in the end and perhaps you were learning to be okay with that.

Yet that didn’t stop you from FaceTiming Sydney about it. “Hey Siddy, how’s your day going?”

“Pretty good, yours?” She politely asked as she moved down the hallway of her shared apartment to prop her phone on the pedestal sink, moving around her functioning bathroom to grab some oil to grease her scalp.

Smacking your lips you glare, “it fucking sucks.”

“Oh?” Sydney questioned, appearing back in frame, “what happened? Did someone egg and scratch up your car again after a review you gave them? Noo wait, don’t tell me there’s a bullet hole?!”

That was light work compared to New York (it really wasn’t a competition of which state had its worst moments but your home state left you kinda triggered, not gonna lie!) where you were just starting off and those that were in tune with the culinary world didn’t take your words with a grain of salt. Most nights you still woke up gasping for air, reaching for your throat due to some trauma of a break in from a well-known nepo-baby chef. Don’t get that twisted, your mom didn’t raise no punk but that didn’t mean those events didn’t mess with your mental and you acknowledged that every time you had a nightmare. They only served three years and five months compared to the original five year sentence.

Ah the system…got to love how that works out for the privileged!

You shrugged, “no…the threats have been pretty tame lately so I can give myself a pat on the back for that. However! I still am in a crisis.”

Sydney begins to move her braids around to expose her scalp, “Elaborate for me.”

“My toilet won’t flush!” You whine, laying flat on your messy bed. You tended to not make your bed on Saturdays and didn’t get around to making it today—although it was after 3pm.

Sydney asks, “Like the waste won’t go down…?”

“Exactly!” You confirm throwing your arm over your eyes dramatically, “The lever thing is moving like my old dislocated shoulder.”

Sydney gags, “don’t fucking remind me of that day. That was spooky to witness but I am glad you healed from that.”

“Thanks girl, means a lot, truly.”

Sydney gives a small smile, “don’t mention it…have you considered YouTubing it? That’s what I do when I don’t want to ask anyone for help and figure it out by myself.”

You hummed knowing this was true. In a sense you could be like that too, especially when it came to the working field, since writers can tend to be some nasty bitches and always in rivalry with each other. You made a name for yourself in Chicago as well, coming from New York where you worked just as hard-maybe even harder than the rest to mean and write exactly how you felt about cuisine, regardless if anyone agreed or not. It wasn’t about if people liked you, the relationship with food would always be more significant and hold value in your life, just like the rest of these chef’s you encountered and you got that, people were allowed to be sensitive about their work. You’ve come toe to toe with many chef’s around the world who didn’t like your take on their craft but that didn’t mean you didn’t understand them. They hardly took the time to really dive into your ratings and automatically took it as you shit talking or not having any idea what you were saying since you “weren’t really a chef,” but you knew your worth most days.

Yes you could be straight forward but that didn’t mean you lacked compassion like some chef’s liked to think according to your reviews. You often wrote in a way that was puzzling to some, almost philosophical or riddle like with your own twist. Some just didn’t get it and that was okay but you wouldn’t back down from any confrontation. The second they didn’t want to really listen, that’s when you removed yourself from the escalating problem. It didn’t have to get violent like some wanted to inflict.

“Why didn’t I think of that?!” You exasperated, slapping the palm of your hand to your forehead.

Sydney snorted, “maybe because you’re under a lot of pressure lately and the most simplest of things don’t come as easily as they should.”

“You would think I have high blood pressure with the way these past two weeks have been.”

Sydney says, “give it time.”

“Gee, thanks! That’s exactly the kind of shit I want to hear from you.” You roll your eyes at the blurt of words that commonly escaped the braided girl’s mouth.

Sydney breathes out a laugh, “I’m just joking!”

“Yeah, yeah! Maybe I should text fak back and tell him not to come by!”

“You asked fak instead of the apartment manager?” Sydney is in amazement.

“Fuck that noise, he’s so full of shit that he should see a doctor about it. He’ll show up to analyze the problem, then acts like he’s going to fit you into the schedule and then when you catch him in the lobby he pretends that he has amnesia.” You commented with a scowl.

You get ready to minimize the call to text fak but some obnoxious knocks at the door made you pop up from your bed. “That was fast!”

Hopping up from the bed and padding out of the last bedroom in the apartment, you made the journey through the foyer to the awaiting black front door. Peeking through the peephole you spot Fak grinning widely up into it, almost making you jump back.

“He’s made it Siddy! I’ll call you back!”

“K. Good luck!” Sydney calls out before you end the call to pull the door wide open.

“Neil!” You scream, quickly latching onto his tatted wrist ready to yank him in until you notice someone else is with him, “…why is he here?” You point.

Fak quickly glances over at a brimmed Carmy who raised a brow at him in a silent told you so manner, “I mean we were having a boy’s day when you called and I didn’t want my buddy to be left out. Plus, it’s always great to have some assistance.”

“…i find it hard to believe that Carmen wants to fix my toilet.” You cross your arms, poking out your hip as you stare at him.

Carmen shrugs his shoulders, “I wanted to wait in the car if it makes you feel any better.”

“Hmm…it doesn’t.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose briefly in agitation, “you know what, fak you’ve got this right? I know you do so—

“Nope!” Fak quickly interrupts, “this maybe a two person job so aspie if you just let us do what we came to do—

Shooting an arm out to block the doorway you peer into Fak’s dark teal eyes to show you mean business, “didn’t I say I dislike that nickname, Neil?”

He nods.

“Also i find it offensive that you brought an uninvited guest to my place.”

“Just be glad it wasn’t Richie because that was also a possibility before he ran off to pick up the kid.” Carmy snaps making you roll your eyes.

If Richie was here you been would have slammed the door in both Fak and his face. Sure you had some sort of tension with Carmy and beef with .......his cousin but at least Carmy only gave it back to you when he had the energy to—meaning if he was already on one. The issue was simple, you wrote a not so nice review once before when the eldest berzatto, Michael was alive and running the joint. Richie couldn’t forget that and actually kept the clipping, yes the clipping of the review way back when. He had the receipts to show Carmy and Carmy actually brushed it off then, not seeming to really care or doubt some of the words that were said.

He came to revamp the place because Mikey left it for him, to fix the mess his big brother left behind, to create what they’ve always dreamed of. Sure he got shit for it in the beginning and part of him felt like maybe that was your case too? He could relate to you on that, yet the weight was slightly different on his part and he even spoke with you not long after he found those tomato cans.

That gave him a certain push he couldn’t really explain. He may have done a brief dive on you, wondering why you felt acquainted to him—completely forgetting about seeing you once around Noma—choosing to start with reading previous reviews by you on other restaurants here in Chicago and a few interviews you’ve done over the world. You weren’t just some nobody, you held your titles well and it reflected in your work.

You weren’t clueless.

He just didn’t really know what he was dealing with until a short time ago.

What he didn’t expect was for you to show up again on opening night with a certain head chef, also from New York. That made carmy more anxious than anything, seeing you sitting beside that four eyed fuck ready to set off a tornado in the heart of the bear. Was that your motive all along? With carmy attempting to build a bridge, not for you to kiss his ass with praise but there was a odd need to have a simple conversation with you. It was weird but it seemed like Sydney, Fak, and Nat liked you?

The jury was still out with the rest—except Richie but you were a mystery to Carmy. However carmy wasn’t the best at putting a read on people or their emotions in the first place, he was good at fucking that up unless you’re screaming it into his face. That’s just how he operated.

“You two can come in—only because I don’t have the patience with the manager here and Neil’s the best I’m gonna get.” You state while fak slaps a hand on his chest.

“That was really sweet, Aspen.” Fak cooed ready to pull you into a bone crushing hug but you hold up a finger.

“Save the hugs until after you fix my problem.”

“You got it boss,” Fak salutes before diving under your arm to travel through your apartment, ooo-ing and ah-ing before finding the bathroom around the corner from the living room.

Sighing you drop your arm and wave carmy through, who keeps his view straight while traveling through the hallway. You call out to him, “you can have a seat on the couch.”

“What? Did you drop a load or something and is that the real reason why you don’t want me to help Fak?” Carmy comes right out with it, nose twitching in amusement after whipping around to face you in the center of the living room.

See…only when he’s frustrated or overly focused will he just let it out. Some may look at this as Carmy attempting to make a joke but you took that somewhat personally. The only thing you were thinking after he said this was: What an ego on this one huh?

You stop on your heels and tilt your head to the side, “are you telling me that you think women or fem pronoun users don’t take shits? Do you know what it feels like to have period shits?”

Carmy blinks at you and shouts with his hands out, “I...don't even know what the fuck you're getting at? I wasn't even trying to be sexist to you just then! I asked you a honest question—

“About you being in my business,” you pointed out, “contrary to your beliefs I have a heart and decided to be nice to you and let you stay in my place to keep warm. You’re welcome!”

“Oh bullshit, don’t act like you’re doin’ me any favors.” Carmy scowls, “you don’t even want me here.”

You shrug, “yet you’re here in my apartment, yelling.”

Carmy exhaled while you smirked at him sweetly before turning to lean against the wall that leads to the bathroom.

“Everything okay in there, Neil?”

“Oh yeah!” He says, “I think I figured out the problem. Easy peasy!”

“Great!” You exclaim, pulling your phone out from your sweats to read a very important email.

The weight of stress seemed to lift a good chunk as you quickly responded to a email that you’ve been waiting for. You’ve been invited out (squeezed in) to a taste test at this restaurant for this evening that you’ve been trying to get into for a month before you brought it up to your employer. The deadline was approaching for the end of this week to have a review ready and they just responded to you five days before that deadline! Reading over it twice, the squeal in you slipped through your smile until you read the exceptions.

If you were to go over the amount of food purchased, which you would put on the company card anyways, you can get a discount if you brought a plus one and some reimbursement if the review was satisfactory to the owners—which the last part wasn’t unfamiliar to you.

You usually didn’t bring a plus one to any of the places you did reviews for, you got comfortable doing outings all on your own but this was different. Sure you were somewhat known in the culinary world but that didn’t mean you were a millionaire and this restaurant was apparently upscale. There was a waiting list regardless of your status—even for the celebrities that went there so this was a big deal and they gave you a short notice. Usually Sundays were known for a reset for the week but what better way to start it?

You don’t go forward with reaching out to anybody else that you work with. This was your battle and you were aware that two of your other co-workers also reached out to this restaurant. You just hoped you were the only one they picked and wouldn’t miss out on the great opportunity just because you weren’t sure about your guest.

A few hours before show time and you had to find somebody to attend with you. Your best friend was away in Cabo for a honeymoon, the other (who recently planned on moving to ATL) was dealing with the flu and had their no good ex boyfriend taking care of them, Sydney was suddenly MIA, and you even considered inviting Natalie Berzatto to piss carmy off just a bit.

“Hey, Nat!” You greet into the phone as you walk into the kitchen, witnessing Carmy perk up from the couch.

It’s small talk at first: you asking about how her day is going as a mom to be, if she’s going to be at the bear tomorrow, did she watch the Emmy’s the other night, tell her husband you said hello, and then finally if she had plans for tonight.

“…are you asking me to hang out?”

“We had fun at that club way back when no?”

“Yeah! But that was how long ago?”

You knew it’s been awhile. You were always friendly with Natalie, meeting her first—well second out of the siblings down at the small mart one summer you helped out at that your great-uncle owned. She was huffing about something her boyfriend at the time, Pete forgot to bring her and some groceries she was picking up for her mom. You were cool enough to become Facebook friends, exchange numbers, go out for coffee and go to the club together. This wasn’t unusual to call each other randomly but you knew she commonly got shit from Michael and Richard about her talking and hanging out with you.

The thing about Natalie Berzatto is that she always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. Yes she saw your review yet she kinda laughed about it initially but it was all fuck you’s from the other two loud mouth’s. Of course she was going to listen to her brother but she still had a mind of her own. she didn’t care to listen to Richie go off but she understood how Michael felt, although she was the only other Berzatto that heard you out.

Except you didn’t owe anybody an explanation even if some felt you were more cutthroat in your younger years.

“...Before you and Pete even thought about marriage?”

You were younger than them but you imagined how it would always work out for Nat and Pete, which included growing old together.

“Wow! Yeah that sounds right.”

“So…?”

“Can’t do it.”

“You didn’t even hear all the details!”

“I know, I know and it sounds like it’ll be a real fucking blast but if this kid wasn’t sitting on my sciatic nerve constantly and if my feet weren’t the size of two honeydews…I totally would! But I’ll have to decline this time around—so please don’t hate me!”

“I could never!”

“You know you could always ask carmy-

“Why on earth would I do that?” Your reply was instant.

Natalie sighed over the phone, “aspen…the potential of friendship and love is a beautiful thing.”

You scrunched up your face at the phone before placing it back to your ear.

“Do you want me to hang up on you?”

“I’d call you a rude bitch if you did but then get over it.”

“I can live with that because I know it’s real love between you and I.”

“…whatever that means.”

“Right.”

You both laugh, knowing just how weird the subject of love can be. Although you didn’t talk all the time it was always okay for one of the other to drop a venting text or call each other’s way and know the other would get around to responding. The both of you may not be the best of friends but you did consider each other friends regardless. There were conversations between the both of you that no one knew about and would be a constant reminder of what kind of friends the both of you would remain.

Natalie wished things could have been resolved between you and Michael but she reassured that the dislike wasn’t as deep as it seemed. There was no secret that you felt awful about how his life ended and being there for nat during that time also meant a lot. She told you that one of the last conversations she had with Michael was about you and it felt as if he was learning to let go of your review, slowly taking in Nat’s words of you not having a cruel bone in your body especially with all that you’ve done for her.

Anybody that showed his sister true friendship couldn’t be complete garbage. As much as he tolerated Pete, Michael was always aware that he was good enough for his sister. They were all cut from different cloths and the Berzatto’s were just from the same but opposite corner’s.

Natalie telling you this was not to erase any worries you had since that is always brought to the surface when someone you’ve been face to face with before decides to end it all. It was to show you that nobody ever truly knows what anyone is thinking whether there is love there or not.

You can feel Natalie smiling through the phone, “Think about it…all that tension could be smoothed out if you extend the olive branch…now it’s your turn.”

“It’s not my fault he switched up on me after your opening night.” You didn’t lower your voice or make it louder but you were definitely staring at carmy now who was side eyeing you, looking like phineas from phineas and ferb.

“That’s something you need to talk to him about, don’t you think?” Her tone was always so gentle that it made you sick sometimes because she could be right.

“I’m not here to do think pieces.”

“…aren’t you a writer?”

“Have a good night, nat.”

“Ta-Ta!” Natalie sing-songs, “be sure to send me the deets later because carmy never tells me anything! Bye! Chat later!”

Hanging up the phone, you slide it onto the counter and tap your nails against the island. To the right of you, you pick up on some clinking in the bathroom—which sounds somewhat normal and zone in on carmy who’s also holding onto his phone but staring at the blank tv in thought.

“Hey, Carmen.” You call his name.

His bright blues turn to you as if he hasn’t been eavesdropping on your conversation here and there between his texts with Marcus.

“You. Me. The Saffron Simmer. 7pm.”

The air is frigid as the both of you hunch your shoulders shoving through Chicago’s winter. Shockingly the streets are filled with cars tonight so you had to park on the next street over before walking up and around to The Saffron Simmer. Carmy offered to drive, which was a debate—no shock there—since there was no way he was leaving the bear stock van behind for no license having fak to play around in.

Fak definitely found that offensive and said he didn’t mind hanging out at your place, being done with your toilet but with the look you sent him he said he’s find an Uber or fak2 can pick him up. It’s not like you didn’t trust fak in your place…it’s just that the possibilities of what he can get into are endless.

You also didn’t want to ride in the bear’s van not because of shallow reasons, you just wanted to annoy carmy just a bit more for fun. Walking mostly everywhere was the way to go growing up in New York and Carmy working there so doing so here in Chicago wasnt foreign either. However with the type of cold here in this city is enough to give the bravest of hearts hypothermia. So obviously driving was the best option, it’s just the petty back and forth between you two of who will drive had to be spewed.

Eventually you gave in and sat in the passenger side of the van, being on DJ duty for the twenty-five minute drive—something carmy didn’t care to argue over. The both of you made it on time, throwing the door back for carmy to catch then bouncing on your toes while he blew into his gloveless hands waiting on the greeter to find your reservation.

The pictures didn’t do The saffron simmer any justice. There was so much to look at with its modernized speakeasy décor and the high ceilings did a superb job of making the both of you feel small in the spacious space. Thankfully the dress code was business casual so you didn’t have to go all out but you still put in the effort of looking your best in simple attire. You’re shrugging out of your scarf, earmuffs, and puffer coat while Carmy is already seated; with only the removal of his cap across from you in a chair.

He’s watching you as you place everything neatly to the right of you before you're taking a seat in the leather oversized chair, then digging through your tote to pull out your notepad, Sony camera, phone, and bolt pen. You quickly scribble something on the first line and circle it before dropping your pen.

Rolling the sleeves of your long sleeves back underneath your blazer, you roll your shoulders with a close of your eyes before opening them with a look of determination.

“Wow, that was something.” Carmy tells you, making you set your eyes back on him, forgetting just that quick that he was your plus one.

Clasping your hands together you quirk up a brow, “What?”

“Watching you prep.”

You dip your head, “should have seen me before I got dressed…much worse.”

A smirk appears on the corner of Carmy’s lips, “oh yeah?”

“Well yes, I can contain myself in public, Carmen. Your home is supposed to be your safe space so that’s the best place to go a little crazy sometimes.” You inform, yet still not giving too much away.

“Why are you in your head about this place anyway?” Carmy peers around the slightly filled dining area before meeting your eyes once more.

You lift your shoulders, “have you seen the way they market this place? Giving not too much away although it’s top ten restaurants here and I can either contribute to its success or its downfall. They picked me for a reason so my review matters at the end of this year.”

“But you uh-get a thrill out of this shit don’t you? It’s what you signed up for, right?” Carmy is actually relaxed against the chair across from you.

Which is a sight to see.

You state, “it’s part of the job, if that’s what you mean.”

Carmy blinks and seems to get it, “and so you stay.”

“So I stay.” You echo while holding his stare, which is broken by a piece of the stone table lifting and showcasing the menu illuminated by sepia lighting in the dark of the restaurant.

Carmy’s bright eyes are wide as he stares at the menu that appears right in front of your faces. There’s a grin on your face as you rest your fingertips around its rough edges, almost as if you were expecting this while carmy blows out a breath.

“The hell is this place?”

You peek over at him, “some next level shit, berzatto.”

“Yeah…I think I’m starting to catch on.”

You turn your attention back to the menu, swiping your fingertips along the touch screen although you’ve heard things about the menu, which they kept offline since apparently it renews monthly.

“What looks good?”

“Uh…these pages aren’t even labeled." Carmy exhales through his nose, eyes searching all over the tablet, "I have no clue. You?”

The words come at ease for you, "One of almost everything maybe?”

“Sounds good...I guess?”

“On me by the way,” you state with a wink as you flash your company card.

“I’ll get the tip then.” Carmy pats his jeans, the left containing his carton of cigarettes, the right holding his keys, lifting his hips he checks for his wallet although he’s been sitting on his behind for about ten minutes now.

You don’t argue with that, eyes in awe at the selection of items as you start ordering, “don’t forget to order your drink.”

“Water should be fine,” Carmy mutters to himself, eyes scanning over the first strange title of water that is described as flower and ginger infused purified water and decides to go with that.

You finally express after rapidly letting your fingers go over the screen and taking a picture with your phone, “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.”

It sounded so easy to you as you quickly shifted to pick up your pen and start writing notes.

“What was that?” Carmy pressed his elbows into the edge of the table, making sure he heard you right since he’s not even sure if he can trust his inner thoughts lately.

You’re still scribbling but also turning your face towards the messy haired chef, “you heard me. We have to act like we’re in a relationship because I’ve definitely went over the budget on the card.”

“That’s not really my problem?”

“Yes it is,” you demand, “you agreed to be my plus one so that’s that. Plus this menu further confirmed my suspicions from the email.”

Carmy scratches at his brow confused, “what are you talking about, aspen?”

“Here,” you swipe across your screen towards Carmy’s device, which brings up another screen instantly to carmy who’s in awe but scans over the details.

You didn’t share the email with him but he’s heard about how high tech this restaurant is but didn’t have the time to do his own research.

*Significant others in attendance are subject to applicable discounts.*

Carmy feels his stomach cramp at the fine print and it so small that he was sure anyone could have missed that.

Not you.

“…how exactly are we supposed to prove that, hm?” He's gripping at his greasy hair now, feeling himself getting a bit worked up about this.

You fanned your hand along, “just do what couples do and follow my lead...Depending on our witnesses,” you whisper as you look around, “they could always assume that’s what we are anyways.”

Part of carmy didn’t like how that came off.

“What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?” Flies out of Carmy’s mouth before he can even process what he’s saying.

That stoops you too, making you press your back against the chair in thought. That wouldn’t be going down in the notes, as you stare at the pen in between your fingers for a moment. Which brings you back to Carmy’s tatted fingers first that touched you in ways that romance novelist craved to write about.

So you may have left that out, how a shared conversation about the “heartless” review of then Chicagoland turned the bear melted into hot and heavy actions in the front seat of your Mazda. It hits you in those same flashes you take of dishes: the unsure sloppy kisses, you taking the lead to get Carmy to just touch you, shaky hands that trace the tattoo from your rib cage down to your hip before soon holding steady and angled just right beneath your red tapered trousers.

“Where did that come from?” You question just as a server greets you, delivering drinks and announcing the small plates should be out in the next five minutes with a timer appearing on both of the stone tablets.

Carmy says, “you—you didn’t just think I forget right?”

“Well I was hoping.” You were honest, “neither of us are ready for relationships—especially hearing about you and Claire.”

Carmy felt his eye twitch, “and how do you know about that?”

Sydney.

You wouldn’t throw her under the bus like that although you could tell carmy already knew.

“I have my resources but don’t think I’ve been asking around about you or anything like that.” You sipped at the raspberry mint cocktail, it could be stronger.

His thumbs are shaking first on the table top but his icy stare made your chest pulsate in a way you didn't particularly like, “…would that be so bad?”

You and carmy didn’t exactly know each other well enough besides a conversation once had and with his hand down your pants! and you trying to get him to crash, clothes still on right in the center of his lap—It was a spur of the moment hookup and you could tell it was not something that happened often for carmy. He never had time for it or bothered to get attached but there was something about you that had him thinking otherwise. What was supposed to be a one time thing that you swept to the back of your mind was being brought up again.

The annoyance overtook what that feeling brought in the front seat of your ride. You weren’t ignoring carmy after that but the both of you had a lot on your plate with him renovating a restaurant and you diving back into your own work. Both fields of work seemed to matter more and not once did you think he ever thought about you in that way.

Communication was important people!

And here you thought he wanted nothing to do with you, especially with you showing up to the grand opening of The Bear. Now here you were months later, basically at your benefit, face to face hearing only pieces of what Carmen Berzatto was thinking.

“Hey, guys!” A familiar voice gathers your attention and you both turn to see Sydney smiling at you two.

Carmy widens his eyes, “Syd, what’re you doing here?”

Sydney snorted, “doing the same thing you’re doing? Having dinner.”

“Right.” He lightly shakes his head.

“Oh my god…am I interrupting this um? Date?” Sydney quickly connected the dots eyeing the both of you back and forth while you’re choking on your drink, “you okay?”

She pats your back for you while you gasp and Carmy slides over his water your way although you have your own glass near by. Gaining some air, you swallow some water and breathe through your nose. Normally you would have a response for Sydney’s joke but given what carmy just said to you had your mind running along with some burning tears you wiped away.

“So this is where you’ve been instead of answering me back?” You decide to switch the subject-you were great at that-wheezing a bit while Carmy scoffs and looks away.

Sydney frowns, “huh? When did you call me besides the FaceTime call…” she starts and pulls out her phone, “oh shit sorry. I placed it on do not disturb like thirty minutes after you didn’t call me back. I got wrapped into some entail about the menu from one of the chef’s that works here and is also a friend.”

Carmy speaks, “Didn’t know you had a connect with anybody here, Syd.”

“Can’t reveal all my moves, Carm.” She winks and lightly elbows him while Carmy sends her a small smile and a shake of his head.

Carmy asks, “scooping out our competition?”

“Only a little," She pinches her fingers before continuing, "and my dad thought it would be a place I wanted to try.” Sydney admits, “and if you two weren’t on a date I’d say let’s make this a group thing! so I’ll be going! I see my dad coming back from the bathroom…he’s got like a bladder problem and I don’t know why I’m sharing that with you two. But bye! Enjoy and just know I’ll be keeping my eye on you two.”

“Fuck,” carmy exhaled feeling his nerves rising, “don’t do that.”

Sydney chuckles to herself and sends a wave to you two before walking back to her table by the window.

“Siddy kicked me to the curb for her dad,” you sigh resting your cheek into your knuckles for a moment, “can’t be mad at that.”

“But you can be mad at me for what exactly?”

“You wanna do this with me right now?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“I thought we could move past what happened—

“You can say it you know? Me with my fingers inside—

“Excuse me!” You hiss, “I don’t need you to repeat action by action thank you. I was there too. We both know what happened, we’d agreed we can coexist around this big ass city. I show up to support—

“Did you though?” Carmy pressed, “support me? Or am I waiting for something else to be thrown at me with your upcoming review?”

“What?!” You bite, “is that what your stank ass attitude is about?”

Carmy tightened his jaw just as the first serving was handed over. You let him sulk in that for some time as you study the plating of the four appetizers, making note of each before taking more pictures with your sony.

“I wasn’t there to write a review.” You reply.

“I saw you—

“Let me finish. I understand pressure so I get it but you have to learn to channel your anger and this grief, elsewhere and deal with it better without projecting it onto any and everybody. I’ll tell you that right now that won’t get you anywhere and especially with me, Carmen.” You affirm.

You’ve been in Carmy’s position before so you can speak with experience. He seemed to always be waiting for the worse to continue filling up his plate but it takes time to accept the good in life. He was giving you something but you weren’t sure it was the best option for the both of you and you weren’t afraid to say that.

“Alright…I didn’t come here to talk about feelings either you know? That’s what those meetings are for.” Carmy spills just a tad.

You stare at the vibrant but delicate plating but his tone and the soft upbeat tempo above your heads don’t go unnoticed. “What did you come here for then?”

Carmy blinks and snatches up a spoon, almost weighing it in his hands before he dives the utensil into the dish. He stares as the stretch of cheese, twisting the spoon to break it apart before holding the Macaroni and Brie with Crab out for you to take the first bite.

He doesn’t answer for awhile and so you do the honors of taking a bite and savoring it's texture and taste.

“…that’s not my favorite.” You announce and notice that Carmy waited for your view.

He raises his brows, “tell me about it?”

“They need different plating.” You deeply sigh, “I know that type of plating works best for a dessert and that’s not it. There’s more breadcrumbs than meat, which seems to not be fully removed from its shell so be careful with that. It’s also lacking flavor even with the brie, which is my least favorite kind of cheese in Mac, although many swear by it.”

Carmy flicks his attention to your disappointment to you scribbling into your notepad with a shake of your head. If he was making you a dish, he’d try his hardest to make sure it was everything you ever wanted.

He quickly has his share and thinks to himself.

Carmy can agree, this was lacking flavor and the breadcrumbs didn’t even have a crunch to them. You can’t just depend on the cheese to give you flavor in Mac and cheese.

“What’s your favorite dish? I—I don’t think I ever asked you that. We just went straight into talking about the beef.”

And doing dirty things in the front seat but who needs to relive that?!

You look up from your notes and lift your chin, “you’re looking at it. It’s childish I know...but that’s exactly what it reminds me of: my childhood. Mac and cheese! then as I got into my adulthood…crab kinda took over. Which is funny because I hated on it for so long growing up. My papa—my grandad, he helped my mom raise me, he's from Ocean City so you can only imagine the amount of seafood on our table.”

You’re smiling to yourself and Carmy can’t help but to feel his small laughter lines appear by his lips as you’re locked into some memory only you can remember vividly. This was the most Carmy was learning about you, sure it may not look like much but he didn’t feel the need to dissociate even if at times he really couldn’t help it.

You were the question mark that he wanted to figure out and get all the answers to. Maybe it was his gut and he shouldn’t have blabbed to sugar about you because now Carmy was thinking this was Michael’s doing.

If you believe in that shit.

So the both of you take your time trying the small dishes before getting the main courses. It seems the longer you sit across from each other—the tension was definitely still there especially with Sydney’s eyes burning into the two of you across the room and attempting to not get caught—although she had once or twice but gradually it lifted as you and carmy shared this time together.

He watched you work while you asked for his input before you told your own. He also provided a few things he would do to tweak it if he agreed with what you didn’t enjoy. Which was eye-opening for you, yes you went to school for journalism and sat in on some cooking classes once that also tied into your passion for learning. After completing your first degree you decided culinary may take you to different heights and enrolled into culinary school. You didn’t find the need to continue going through with being a chef after Copenhagen, finding writing to be your stronger suit but you still understood food and the relationship with it when it came to chef’s.

So you took carmy’s input into consideration.

With the last serving being a Asian dessert called, “Jjan Hae,” which consisted of: coconut rice pudding served with fresh citrus (orange, grapefruit, kumquat) and coffee ice cream, topped with crispy pop rice & a shot of Korean rice wine, it was a strange concept but the both of you came to terms with the dessert working well.

Carmy even took a video to show Marcus tomorrow at the bear and sent a photo to an old colleague, Luca, that you were also familiar with considering Noma was a thing that you didn’t bother speaking much on…but it was your turn to give carmy the last serving.

He hesitated since he had his own bowl, which he finished way before you did but it was clear you wanted him to have the last bite so he also took it while saying something with his eyes.

Breaking the stare, the both of you felt your phone buzz with a text. Carmy didn’t jump to answer it right away…he was the worst texter according to Nat and Sydney but you can answer for the both of you as it was a group text from Sydney who was long gone with her dad.

Siddy + (773) XXX-XXXX: Carmy, invite aspen to breakfast in the morning?? See you guys then! 👍🏾😉

“You guys do breakfast at the bear now?” You say lifting your eyes from your screen.

You heard Sydney made a mean omelette but you haven’t been back since earlier this year and you weren’t in the mood for that that night.

Carmy frowns and closes his eyes with a shake of his head, “uh yeah it’s a new thing that Syd came up with but we agreed to do that with everyone once a month…later this month. Why?”

“She wants me to have breakfast with you guys…knowing I’m not a morning person.”

“It’s not happening tomorrow anyway, so what is she talking about?” Carmy digs into his jacket, where he carelessly shoved his phone into after sending the photo off to Luca.

Another text rings out: at carmy’s place. just us three???

Not Sydney making plans and then placing it all at Carmy’s apartment.

He’s taking a breath, almost as a silent reminder for him to do so before his thumbs move over his screen: i don’t even eat breakfast, Syd.

Syd: well youre gonna.

~ Syd has notifications silenced 🌙 ~

“Well, looks like your work wife told your ass.” You laugh, which you translated into her message but didn’t comment further than that.

Carmy harshly exhales through his nostrils in disbelief, “my work wife huh?”

He didn’t hate how that sounded but he also never thought about marriage or relationships in awhile.

“Yeah…the proof is in the pudding, no matter what anyone says.”

Carmy pinched at his bottom lip as he attempts to dryly joke, “I thought it was rice? and what about outside work…”

“That’s something you have to figure out yourself.” You shrug, getting ready to pack up your notes and cameras.

You turn your attention to the table, which knows just when to lift as you tap on the screen to signal that you’re ready to pay while holding out your company card, “are you paying cash for the tip or card?”

“Uh, cash.” Carmy answers, “…what if I’m starting to think about what come’s next?”

“With Syd?” You question, your now sage and mint scented hands flying over the screen as you select the correct paying method before tapping your company card against the screen.

Carmy starts bouncing his leg underneath the table, “with everything.”

“Well…when you’re ready you’ll make moves to make it happen won’t you?”

Carmy dips his head, “you bet.”

And here comes the intense eye contact that you can’t help but to huff out some laughter.

“What’s funny?”

“It’s just people with light eyes always do this thing where they’re just staring into your soul you know? Like damn, relax!”

Carmy’s confused as he holds his wallet open, “uh sorry for having eyes?”

“Shut up, glacier eyes.” You tell while Carmy just snorts at you.

The both of you don’t waste any time rushing back to his car as the clock is approaching 10pm. The wind’s definitely picked up and the temperature dropped, making it easier not to get caught up in the night time city lights which you often liked to do. Back in the van, carmy doesn’t wait to crank up the heat and you don’t bother to mess with the radio this time.

“So?” Carmy asks as he waits for the car to warm up some.

You keep your attention outside the window shield, “yes?”

“What’s the rating?”

“What makes you think I’m going to tell you that, Carmen?” You continue holding yourself.

He sniffs, “I mean—I was sitting across from you the entire night while you told me some of your thoughts.”

“So you thought you should also get the final score? I don’t even know what I’m going to say yet.”

“Ah, I think you’ve got some idea.” Carmy lolls his head over to peek at you.

Laughter bubbles past your lips, “I do. I’ve absolutely had better because—what the fuck was that?”

Carmen feels a crooked smirk appear on his own face, “I don’t want to completely bash other chef’s work but fuck, I thought it was just me? You said it got a 4.3 out of 5? The ambience and service was spot on but…the flavor for most of the dishes?”

“I knew you knew something about seasoning,” you continued laughing while carmy rolled his eyes, “should spend less on the tech and interior and more on some fresh herbs.”

“Isn’t it called simmer saffron?”

That made you laugh even harder as you gripped your stomach, “You’ve got that so backwards!”

And carmy couldn’t help but to scan your features as you laughed and he felt his chest getting somewhat lighter? Just listening to the sound of you and being beside you. What kind of feeling was this? He’s felt it before looking at someone else but that feeling was more of a tug with that light while this one slowly poured in from the black.

“Don’t be too hard on ‘em though? There’s always room for improvement.”

“Sure, but we both know the bear is better and you guys don’t have a waist list months in advance.”

“We also don’t have any celebrities showing up either.”

“Yet.”

Carmy taps his fingers against the steering wheel, appreciating that, “right, yet…I’m sorry about March. I was too in my head about so much shit and you’re right, I took it out on everyone and I’m still trying to make up for it.”

“Effort doesn’t ever go unnoticed if people look and feel it hard enough.”

Carmy chews on his lips at that, “if you believe that…then why do you feel what I said about dating—uh us—about us dating is out of the blue?”

“I said that?”

“Your eyes did. It’s the most expressive thing about you which is funny to me when you talk so much shit about mine when you hide the rest of it away on your face. It’s fucking confusing but I think I gathered that from our dinner tonight.”

Carmy was just as detail oriented as you. It was in his language with food and maybe even in his tattoos that you tried to understand starting with his fingers first. The way he spoke about what he would do with the dishes that were lackluster, except for the dessert—that was pretty good. Carmy wasn’t much of a talker because he wasn’t sure how to express himself, always been that way since you knew of him at Noma…but he told just enough in his dishes and you told just enough between the lines you wrote.

Someone just had to look hard enough.

“…I ever tell you I was engaged? Of course I didn’t, we’re still…I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here Carmen but I’m starting to sense that we could be special if we both want this badly.”

“What do you want?”

“Does anyone ever really know?” You laughed, “ I guess someone to look past the circumstanial and I had that once but then he died. So that was the end of that.”

“You swore off love.”

“Love is many things but maybe I closed off the long lasting part.”

Carmy could relate to that as least with family. He never had much interest in romance even growing up because he lacked that confidence in anything being permanent besides the chaos he’s used to, then he found some of it once he proved what he fucking set out to do yet cooking was all Carmen really opened himself up to. While Luca and others encouraged him to have a night out in the town, he always left early or if there was one person that caught his interest, they get to talking and both get bored of each other since Carmy hardly made the move to take them back to his. Before Noma?

Maybe.

Back in Paris there was one that could have been permanent but Carmy had to break her heart since Noma was calling. Culinary was his true love and he honestly couldn’t tell you what she even looked like now if you asked him. Things that should have mattered tended to get buried in the blue of his mind unfortunately.

He didn’t have the time to be attached and you didn’t want to have your heart ripped out again.

“How’d—

“He was a firefighter.” Was all you said and just those words alone told carmy it was anything but peaceful.

It took a lot for carmy to scream at himself how Michael went out and he imagined it might have been the same for you. So he wouldn’t dare ask for further morbid details because what did that help?

So maybe you weren’t wrong about the both of you not being ready to take that step on going on dates but change was everlasting.

“Uh—what about breakfast then after that not so great meal?” Carmy asks as he pulls off from the curb now.

You think about it. Really think about it that carmy starts to assume you may have dozed off.

“Depends on the time honestly? And who am I to turn down a free meal?” You beamed at Carmy who lifts his shoulders with a chuckle.

Carmy explains, “Syd and I usually start our days early, sometimes even earlier for me if I don’t get enough hours in. but thanks to the reno those on the early shift can get prep ready and I heard…you’re not a morning person?”

You’re just as sarcastic but there’s no lies, “I don’t even know my name or birthdate when I first wake up…what do you think?”

Carmy snickered at that, “okay? So how does 10am sound?”

“That’s pushing it but…I think I can be there so that’ll give me the rest of the day to work from home.”

Carmy nods, “can’t wait to read it. Shake on it?”

“On what? My review or showing up?”

“Both.”

“I’m not sending you a sneak peek, maybe syd or even nat but not you.”

“Ouch.” Carmy mocks, still waiting for your hand to touch his.

And when you do there’s a spark, that makes you yank your hand back and you feel like you’re in one of those cheesy teen movies.

You’re aware carmy’s felt that too but he just clears his throat and placed his hand back on the steering wheel. Leaving you to lightly massage the palm of your hand, now glancing at the profile of carmy’s face.

Life takes time to live but once you start to just let it be, the green starts to stand out more and can be equally as joyous…once you get through the rain and mud that is.

And once the ice blue sets back on you, the both of you can’t exactly see the future but there’s always warmth waiting for the cold to give them a try.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

February fluff anthology series continues here.

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thetriumphantpanda · 3 months

Text

LOST IN OUR VICES | ONE

Chapter Summary | A chance encounter with a handsome stranger sets off a chain of events that could all end in disaster. It's hard to say no when it feels so good though.

Pairing | Professor!Marcus Pike x Student F!Reader

Chapter Warnings | Dubious ethical relationship between a professor & student, Marcus tells a lie, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of academia, academic failure and strained parental relationships, gratuitous descriptions of London because I live here and I love it, some heavy making out and some heavy petting, no use of y/n.

Authors Note | WELL HERE SHE IS. I have no idea how to tell you how much I am loving this so far. Professor Pike has well and truly rotted my brain so y'all have to suffer with me okay? It's gonna be fun, I promise. I would LOVE to know what you all think about this so feel free to scream at me incumbents, reblogs and asks! As always, a huge thank you to @undercoverpena for reading this over and making sure it isn't utter tripe. ILY. And to @saradika for the beautiful divider.

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

He’s seen her there every day he’s visited the past month. Sitting on the bench, looking up at the same sculpture - a woman carved from marble - sketching into a notepad. He stands this time and watches as her finger tucks some hair behind her ear, brushing it out of her face. She looks up and tilts her head a little, eraser end of her pencil sitting between her teeth as she thinks, tracers a portion of the statue before her head is back down, looking at the page as she continues to draw.

She’s beautiful, there’s no denying it, she’s been beautiful every time he’s seen her. There’s something lonely about her too, the way she sits there on her own, artefacts and artworks for company. She’s just like him really, uprooted from a life he was no longer satisfied with, four years of a PhD and now the letters of Dr before his name. Moved to London, a new city, a fresh start as he’d coined it to his family, but he’s been here three years now, and not one thing that he wanted from his move have materialised. He knows the therapy was good for him, he knows that his haste to find someone was probably what was making him scare people off, but he doesn’t much like the other side of the coin either - a modest flat in London to himself, a small group of friends who sit around and drink beer and droll on about their academic passions, but no-one he can really call his own right now.

Dr. M Pike. Professor of Art History. That’s what his doorplate says, one of many in the small corridor at UCL. Three years and he’s still not quite sure how he made it here, or if it’s really what he wants, but it beats whatever he was doing back in D.C. that’s for sure. It had seemed like the best thing to do at the time, but when Lisbon had told him she wasn’t coming, everything about it seemed wrong, soiled somehow, by the life he’d built in his mind being torn up by someone who, looking back, had never really wanted him in the first place.

He thought about talking to her the first day he’d seen her, but then realised he was actually here to prepare for one of his teaching seminars, so squirrelled himself away to another room instead. The second time he’d seen her, she’d looked too engrossed on whatever she was working on, and then every other time, he’s convinced himself she’s here for peace, not to be bothered by some random man. But there’s something about the way she is today that makes the pull harder to resist, so he says fuck it, shoves his hands into his trouser pockets and walks over.

“You come here often?”

It’s an American accent that pulls you from your work. His voice jolts your hand, makes you press your pencil into paper too hard and at the wrong angle. You suck in a deep breath, try not to think about the hours of work he’s just ruined by startling you. You’re about to turn around and complain when he comes into your vision.

He’s tall, broad shoulders covered in a light dress shirt, two buttons undone so you can see a flash of tanned skin and a smattering of hair. It’s tucked into dark jeans, a belt keeping them tight to his trim waist. And then there’s his face - a beard, but only just and friendly brown eyes, a full mouth too. He’s handsome, there’s no way around it.

“Sorry, that was awful,” The mystery man scratches the back of his neck, “I just come here a lot and I think I’ve seen you here every time for the past month.”

You smile at that, that you’re someone he’s been picking out amongst the crowd of tourists who always come here, someone familiar to him, even if he’s not the same to you.

“I’m just working on something.” You shrug, letting your palm slyly cover the sketch you’ve been making.

The man walks in front of you slightly, takes a seat on the vacant spot on the bench and looks up at the woman carved from marble, “She’s beautiful.” He muses.

“She is.” You agree, looking over the curves of her hips, the way the marble has been carved to make it look like her clothes are wet, sticking to her breasts like she’s just climbed out of the Aegean Sea.

“You like sculpture then?”

“I do,” You nod, turning your body a little towards him, “It’s not my first artistic passion, but I’m studying for my PhD at the moment and it’s all about the female form in marble.”

“Brains as well as beauty,” He smirks a little at you, “Sounds interest though, where are you studying?”

“UCL,” You beam, because you’re proud, it wasn’t easy, you’d been rejected for your first choice research project the first time around, encouraged to choose something else from the feedback, but you were there now, and that’s what mattered, “What about you?” You ask, “What do you do that means you have to be here as much as me?”

He shrugs a little, “I teach.”

It’s vague but you don’t press, he owes you nothing, so you let it lie. You turn back to the sculpture in front of you, when your stomach grumbles. You look down at your watch. It’s 2pm and you’ve not eaten anything yet.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.” You reply meekly.

“Want to grab something to eat?” He asks, “I know a great Italian place in Soho if you fancy it?”

You look at him, eyes tightening a little. It’s been so long since anyone has shown you an ounce of interest, and now the beautiful man in a shirt and dress pants wants to take you for lunch, it all seems a bit too good to be true. But, you can hear the voice of your therapist tell you to say yes to more things, take more risks in life because not all of them are going to turn out to be bad, so you flip the front of your notepad over to cover your drawing and reach down to pick up your backpack.

“Lead the way.”

He doesn’t disappoint. Over the course of a glass of wine and a bowl of olives, you coax out his name. It’s Marcus. He’s got a PhD in Art History and moved to London from D.C. three years ago. He lives alone, near Notting Hill, he likes it because he can go searching for antiques on the weekend. He wants a dog, but he spends too much time out of the house to justify one. He likes to read and he can cook, but prefer eating out or ordering in because he’s not mastered the art of cooking for one.

When a waiter sets down your second glass of wine and your food - gnocchi with pesto and bacon for you and carbonara from Marcus, he turns the conversation back to you, sipping wine as he ask you where you live - Willesden Green, so not far from you - who you live with - myself, my dad was so proud I got into my course he pays for my rent, it’s the only way he can show he loves me - what you like to do with your free time - free time? When I have it, I read, or I walk, or I sit and draw sculptures in museums.

You don’t know whether it’s the wine or not, but the dark winter sinks in, outside cloaked in black, lights dimmed inside, and it makes him even more handsome than he was before. He makes you laugh, with his stories of his own PhD stress, how he would walk the streets of D.C. at 3am to get coffee and pancakes on his way back from the library and then collapse into bed and sleep for two hours until his alarm would wake him up and he would go all the way back to the library to do it again.

“If I ever get to that point,” You muse, stabbing a piece of gnocchi onto your fork, “I don’t think I’ll have the will to make it through.”

“You seem far too organised to me to fall into the bad habits I had.” He shrugs, looking at you over his own glass of wine as you take a bite of your food, too busy watching him to really notice the angle of your fork, green sauce smearing on the corner of your mouth as you fight it into your mouth.

Before you have a chance to reach down and grab the napkin from your lap, Marcus is reaching over the table, using the pad of his thumb to wipe the stray sauce away. It’s something that under any other circumstance would make you feel uncomfortable, but all it really makes you want to do is kiss him, especially when he apologises profusely for being so forward.

He pays for dinner, insists on it really, hidden behind the excuse that he knows how hard it is to live whilst studying. He takes you for cocktails at a bar on the end of Old Compton Street - orders himself an old fashioned whilst you opt for an amaretto sour. The bar is dark and busy, the only seats are in a corner, sat so close together your knees are touching and your shoulder is slightly leaned into his side.

“So, you said you got rejected from your first choice course?” He muses, taking a short sip of his drink.

You shrug with a nod, “I wanted to research the impressionist movement,” You start to explain, “I love Monet and Renoir but I think my research application was too broad,” Sipping your own drink you carry on talking, “There’s a great academic at UCL, Professor Pike, I was desperate to have him as my supervisor, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

You turn your head a little, watching as Marcus swallows on nothing, quickly taking another sip of his drink.

“It’s okay,” You hasten to add, “I guess if I’m not writing thousands of words about it, it won’t make me hate what I love most.”

“Smart,” Is what he says with a smirk, “You would have given him a run for his money anyway.”

“Do you know him?” You ask, “I know all of you academic types are familiar with each other.”

He swallows on nothing again, “I’ve heard of him but I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

You both order another drink, sit around talking about nothing much at all, slowly moving closer as the bar gets busier, you tell yourself it’s just so you can hear him better, but he smells good, some kind of musky cologne that suits him really well, so you don’t complain about soaking it up.

When it gets late, he offers to take you home, keep you company on the tube. You know it’s not really necessary, you’ve never felt particularly unsafe walking home from the station, but if it means spending more time with him, then you don’t really mind. He lets you take the only free seat on the tube, standing in the aisle just in front of your knees so he can keep talking to you, and when you reach the other side, he walks close to you, puts a hand on your lower back which you can feel through your jacket when a group of people walk past you a little too close. He even insists on walking you to your door.

It’s quiet in the building, like it usually is. It’s only recently been built and you think you’re one of only a few people who are currently living there. You pluck your keys from your coat pocket when you reach your door, leaning your back against it.

“This is me.”

“Nice place.”

“Yeah, although I usually prefer places with more character.”

He’s stood right in front of you, rocking on his heels, that same nervous hand on the back of his neck as this afternoon, “I know this might seem weird, but would you like to go on a date sometime?”

You can help but snort a laugh, shaking your head a little, before you meet his eyes, “This wasn’t a date?” You ask coyly.

He smirks a little, cheeks flushing a little, “Did you want it to be a date?”

“I wouldn’t have let you take me for lunch if I didn’t,” You say, “But there is one thing missing.”

“Oh yeah?” He hums, “What’s that?”

Instead of speaking, you take a step forward, hands gripping the lapels of his jacket as you press up onto your toes and plant your lips on his. It’s clumsy and it’s impulsive, but you’ve wanted to do it all day. You can feel his arms wrapping around your back, dragging your body flush to his as he opens his mouth against yours right as you do the same. He tastes like mint from the gum he’s been chewing and the whisky from his drinks - it’s all you can think about as he walks you back, presses you against the door as his tongue meets with yours.

You’re thankful no-one is around. Your arms move from his jacket to wrap around the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the curls there as you tilt your head to one side, a slight smacking sound from your lips as the disconnect, only to come back together seconds later. He’s good at this, you think, as his hands drop from your back to rest in the pockets on the back of your jeans, palms warm through the material. You can feel him squeeze you there a little, and you’re so close to saying fuck it and inviting him in, because if his lips are this good against yours, you can’t imagine what they’d be like in other places.

Marcus is the one that pulls away from you, resting his forehead gently to yours. You’re both breathless and you’re itching to press your mouth back to his.

“I should go.” He breathes against your mouth, pressing his lips to your in a chaste kiss.

“Yeah,” You agree, “You should.”

He steps back, takes the warmth of his palms with him, but reaches in to his pocket and hands his phone to you, “Put your number in here and I’ll call you.”

So you do, press the eleven digits into his phone along with your name and then kiss him once more before he’s turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you with a dull ache between your thighs that you’re working on relieving within five minutes of getting inside. You’re fucked.

Marcus curses himself as he settles into the seat on the bus. It’s late enough that it’s not too busy, no-one sitting next to him as he leans his head back and runs his hand over his face. He already knows he’s fucked up. The words Professor Pike and rejected from my first choice spinning around in his brain as he watches parts of North London flash past the window on his ride home.

Why hadn’t he stopped it then? He knows the rules, knows that even though he doesn’t teach her, any kind of relationships with students, no matter how mature, are off limits. And how is he supposed to keep the facade up now? It’s only a matter of time before she puts two and two together and figures out who he really is.

You’re sweet and you’re smart and you’re fucking beautiful and the best kisser he thinks he’s ever met. You have so much in common with him that it actually hurts him a little and one stupid choice to keep lying to you and the fucking ethics policy are going to keep him from something he thinks would actually be fucking good for him.

He thinks for a second, pulling out his phone and looking at your contact card that he should probably just delete your number. It’s for the best for everyone. He could avoid the museum for a while, keep his head low on campus, he knows he can avoid you. But with his finger hovering over the delete confirmation, he finds he doesn’t have the strength to do it. Stuffs his phone back in his pocket and tries to will his mind to forget the way you’d gasped into his mouth when his hands had squeezed at the swell of your ass, or the way your lips had been soft against his when he’d kissed you.

Then, led in bed, frustrations sorted by his own hand, he picks up his phone and damns himself to hell with a single text.

How about a walk around the National Gallery and dinner this weekend?

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