#you know how we all date that one shitty person before finding the person of our dreams???

[holylulusworld]

Every Breath You take (1)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Bucky x Alpine (platonic)

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, bitchy boss, secret admirer trope, voyeurism

A/N: We start slowly to get to know them and their backstory. In this part, we will get to know Y/N better.

A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (Prologue)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

You’re chewing on your lower lip, humming at something your boss said. He’s boring as hell and so demanding. With his hands on his hips, he glares at your lunch as if he wants to turn it to ashes.

All you want to do is tell him to leave you alone during lunch break. You’re just too polite and nice to do so. 

He can bug you during work time, but not in the precious moments you use to catch up on the latest gossip on your phone. 

You were about to read about an affair Tony Stark had with an intern. Fake news, you’re fairly sure, but it’s still entertaining reading all the furious and stupid comments.

“Sure,” you nod and make a mental note, hopefully not forgetting about his next demand before you reach your desk to write it down. “Right after my lunch break.” You point out and give him a fake smile.

“You better hurry,” he snaps at you and storms off. “If not, you can look for a new job.”

He cannot fire you per se. Your boss is not as important as he thinks he is. One word to the HR and he can kiss his ass goodbye.

You’re just indifferent when it comes to your boss and his antics. You prefer to ignore his sometimes nasty comments.

The world is cold and unfriendly enough. You don’t want to be the kind of person adding more hatred to this world.

Bucky aimlessly strolls through the streets. He prepared everything for tonight, and now he’s a little lost because you are still at work.

It became his obsession to make sure you came home safely. He’d kill the time, window shopping or imagining how’d feel to hold your hand.

Time. Bucky needs more time to prepare himself to meet you for real. 

He wants your first date to be perfect. Therefore, he must watch you a little longer to get to know you better. – At least that’s how he justifies he’s following you like a shadow for the better of three weeks.

Bucky stops in front of your favorite bookstore, he looks out the window, wondering if he should buy you a book and gift it to you this week, or wait a little longer. 

He shakes his head. No. Bucky will start with the usual gift. Flowers. He saw you carry flowers inside your apartment over the last weeks more than once.

You love flowers, and he will find out which ones you love the most. Bucky doesn’t want to gift you the wrong flowers and disappoint you.

He already has a plan. According to your schedule – which he knows by heart – you will go to the little café close to your home. The perfect opportunity to sneak inside your apartment and get to know you even better.

Bucky will take any chance to make you see he’s more than his bad reputation. To the people out there he’s still the Winter Soldier. He doesn’t want you to think the same about him.

All he wants is to keep you safe and happy. Bucky’s new mission is the most important one he ever had. 

For today, he will wait patiently to follow you home, making sure you’re safe. There are many dangerous people out there, wanting to hurt or take advantage of a lovely person like you.

“Phew, home sweet home,” you sigh and plop down onto your sofa. You’re tired, and hungry and would kill to have someone to massage your shoulders. “What a shitty day.”

You hate to get back up, but you need a shower and search your fridge to find anything eatable. Your boss made sure you were working overtime, and you didn’t have the energy left to buy groceries.

Slowly getting back up, you sigh. You’d love to fall asleep right here on the couch, but it won’t do you any good.

Instead of sleeping, you walk out of the living room to have a shower. There’s still enough time left to watch your favorite show and eat leftovers from your fridge.

“She looks tired,” Bucky worriedly watches you with his binoculars when you walk back inside your living room. You yawn and rub your tired eyes. “She’s wearing cute pajamas, Alpine.”

Your secret admirer swoons. “Isn’t our girl beautiful?” He dips his head to look at Alpine sitting on his lap. The white cat meows and rubs his cheek into Bucky’s shirt. “She’ll be such a good mommy for you.”

Bucky pats Alpine’s head, gently murmuring the cat’s name. Alpine is his only companion, and he wants the cat to love you too.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers while lifting the binoculars to his eyes again, “she’s a wonderful and kind person. Y/N will love you too.”

Bucky inhales deeply as he presses your shirt to his nose. He’d love to take it with him, but for now, the top and panties he found under your bed must do. Bucky cannot risk taking more of your things right now.

In due time, he will take more of your things to bring them to the house he plans to buy for you and him. He’s already ahead of his plans, but Bucky never felt like this again. Not since Hydra turned him into a monster everyone still fears.

“Soon,” he hums and walks around your bedroom. Bucky takes his time, and even risks lying in your bed for a moment. He sniffs at your pillow, inhaling your scent deeply. 

Bucky sighs. He can’t risk leaving his scent on your sheets and must slip out of your bed too soon for his liking.

Time. He needs more time. Bucky tells himself all over again. He cannot risk scaring you off, or that you’ll be afraid of him.

He’s a protector, not a villain.

Bucky slowly walks out of your bedroom and inside your bathroom. He wants to know more about the products you like, and maybe sniff at your perfume too.

You’re still at work, and he has all the time in the world before he will pick you up from work and bring you home. In his mind. – He cannot turn up at your workplace and offer you a ride home. Not yet.

Bucky lurks around the corner to watch you walk out of the building. You’re angrily wiping your eyes and even cussing. Something you never did before.

“Who hurt you, doll?” He asks himself, and the person delivers the answer on a silver plate.

Your boss storms after you, calling you a dumb bimbo while throwing a tantrum like a man-child. 

Bucky squares his jaw. He clenches and unclenches his metal fist, ready to beat your boss into a bloody pulp.

No—not now. Not here. He will bring you home first and come back. Bucky will avenge you, and make sure your boss will never dare to raise his voice around you again.

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #stalker!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #x reader #Every Breath You take (1)

[abiiors]

Wait I just realized that this means Ross has something in common with Logan Paul…go figure lmaoooooo

NO STOP 😭 do not utter those two names in the same sentence thank you

#you know how we all date that one shitty person before finding the person of our dreams??? #not to get too deep but i did date someone who abused me and my current bf is an incredible angel who has nothing in common with that pos #so not necessarily 😌😌 #ross macdonald #chloe bennet #✉

[a-b-riddle]

Part Four

Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.

"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.

"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."

"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.

"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."

You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.

"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.

Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.

It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.

It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.

In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.

"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."

"You think it was a stunt?"

"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."

"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."

"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."

"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."

"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."

You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.

You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.

"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”

For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.

Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?

"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.

You were finally angry.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #angst #angst with a happy ending

[imfinereallyy]

“Steve, it’s an emergency. I need to kiss you. Actually, I need you to kiss me. But I can’t just do it without asking because what if you don’t want me to, and I practically attack you? So yes or no? I swear it’s for a good cause.” Eddie comes running up to Steve in the bar, panting so hard Steve can see the chest movements.

They have taken Robin to a bar out in Indy to get her laid finally. Or at least a tongue in her mouth. The girl is pent up. And it’s Steve’s job as best friend to make that happen (Robin has told him to stop saying that, ‘it is gross’). Eddie is the only other queer person they know and, luckily, has made quite a few trips to Indy to know which bars were the good ones. He tells Steve that, like Robin, he is desperate to get laid, so this is the perfect opportunity.

Steve does his best to try and ignore the burning jealousy he feels at that. Eddie doesn’t know about his feelings (hell about his sexuality), and Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn’t see him that way.

“Huh?” Asks confused, his brain struggling to process.

“Okay, I see you’re stuck on how to answer, but Steve—“ Eddie grips Steve’s shoulder, and Steve tries not to swoon. “—my ex, the extra shitty one, is here, and if he sees me alone I’ll either a) go home with him tonight and—“

Steve cuts Eddie off with a searing kiss. The thought of Eddie going home with someone else was enough for Steve’s brain to catch up to speed. Steve presses Eddie against the bar. The loud bass of the music suddenly becomes a light thrum in the background. All that he feels is the delightful pressure of their lips together. Eddie’s hands slide up into Steve’s hair as he gets pressed harder into the bar. Steve’s hands' grip Eddie’s waist and give them a tight squeeze. The idea of bruises being left behind, a mark of what they are doing here, makes Steve deepen the kiss. His tongue used to massage Eddie’s, tasting the menthol and rum on his breath. Eddie moans loud and heavy, vibrating Steve’s entire body.

“Eddie?” A voice interrupts them. Steve feels his anger spark back slightly but wills it down because the interruption is probably needed. They are very close to getting kicked out for public indecency.

“Oh hey, Ryan.” Eddie looks the blonde man up and down. He’s cute, Steve notes, but he lacked personality in his appearance. He isn’t what Steve expects from an ex of Eddie’s. He isn’t naive enough to think Eddie dates exclusively metal heads, but he expects someone to match Eddie’s energy. This guy—Ryan apparently—looks like every other guy you’d find on a Sunday in Supermart. Boring and lacking imagination.

“Who’s this?” Ryan looks at Steve pissed.

“Steve?” Eddie wraps an arm around his waist, bringing Steve close up against him. “This is my boyfriend.”

“This dude’s your boyfriend?” Ryan snorts. “C'mon baby, I know you can do better.”

Steve feels his anger finally pop. “He is not your baby. Yea, he can do better than both of us combine, but I’m lucky enough to get him. Now, you interrupted our time together, and we both know you saw what we’re up to, so don’t act like it wasn’t on purpose.”

Ryan startles backwards, “I—“

“Sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear. I meant leave the fuck right now.” Steve grits out, some of his Upside Down protection mode popping out. Ryan scatters quickly.

“Jesus, Steve, that was amazing. I’m sorry I had to make you uncomfortable with that.” Eddie’s eyes find his and cuts Steve off before he can protest and explain no, he really did like that “—and you never even let me explain reason b, by the way! Reason b is b) he would probably humiliate me in the middle of the club.”

Steve nods at Eddie but has one track mind at this point. He grabs Eddie by the face this time before crashing their lips together once again. This time Steve moans into Eddie’s mouth as they both get lost in the kiss.

Steve pulls back ever so slightly and talks directly into Eddie’s mouth, “Sorry. I think he’s still staring. Needed to do more.”

Eddie, with swollen lips and a kissed-out face, looks around the bar to find nothing. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

Steve smirks and pulls Eddie by his belt loops so they are flushed together. Steve leans into Eddie’s ear and nibbles at his lobe. “Hmmm, you’re right. I think he’s actually in the bathroom. Maybe we should kiss in front of him there.” Steve whispers hotly.

Eddie’s brain, which has short-circuited much like Steve only minutes ago, finally catches up. Eddie groans, his face collapsing into Steve’s neck. He licks a stripe up Steve’s neck all the way to his mouth. “Fuck. Yea, baby, I think I saw him too. Think kissing, though, won’t be enough. We might need to up our game.”

Steve nips at Eddie’s lips, “I was hoping you would say that. Guess I just know how much you love your games, Eds.”

They meet each other for one last searing kiss before rushing to the bathrooms to share a very tight, very heated stall.

#steddie #robin does indeed make-out with someone #but that's as far as she gets because she panics when she can't find the boys #she is rewarded with being scarred for life at what she finds in the bathroom #getting together #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #stranger things #robin buckley #my writing #platonic stobin #jealous Steve #kiss fic #ficlet #first kiss #gay bars #fluff #confident Steve #bitchy Steve #wife guy Eddie #steve x eddie #Eddie being hilarious and cute as usual #bisexual steve harrington #gay eddie munson

[zanarkandskylines]

₊✩‧₊⇢  right person, wrong time?

『 ෆ k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — repost; after more discussions, i decided to delete the follow up on the original post thread & re-post separately. i don't wanna be accused of stealing someone's idea after already apologizing for it. this'll be the last i talk about it.

Bakugo’s loved you since high school. You always pushed him to work hard, never took his shit without giving it back tenfold, and was a pillar of support through some of the toughest times in his life. Even so, he’s convinced himself you’d never feel the same, that he has no shot with you.

Why?

Because you’re quirkless.

You’re part of the 20% without one, and he told himself he can’t get in your way of your life. Bakugo can’t stand the thought of being the reason why you don’t chase after your own dreams. He knows you too well - you’d put your happiness aside to support him the second he asked. You’d put your life on hold if it meant for him to succeed as a pro hero.

But he can’t do that. You’re the one thing he can’t seem to bring himself to be selfish about.

So Bakugo sits idly by, for years, as your best friend. The one you’d do anything for, no matter the time or place. He watches you date shitty guys and picks up the pieces they leave you in. Buys you your favorite foods when you have a bad day, surprises you with “just thinking of you” gifts, and drops whatever he’s doing the second you need him.

He’s attempted dating, desperately tried to get you out of his heart and make room for someone else - he fails each time. Miserably.

So tonight, that all changes.

You’re attending the annual Hero Gala together tonight, just like you have for the last four years. Bakugo always asks you to be his plus one as it keeps people away from him and he gets to spend time with you…rather, gets to see you dressed to the nines and have you on his arm all night long. It’s the one day a year he gets to pretend you’re his.

You’ve recently gotten a huge promotion in your line of work and he’s broken the top 10 of the hero charts - what better time than now to shoot his shot? He’s waited long enough, run through every excuse in the book why not to tell you how he feels.

The night winds down and the two of you get back into his car, sitting in silence for the ride home. That’s not uncommon for you two, but Bakugo’s reading too much into it tonight. It makes his hands tremble on the wheel, white knuckling the pleather from nerves. Once he pulls up to your apartment complex, he turns the car off and gets out to open your door for you.

To his surprise, you invite him in.

“I have a surprise for you!”

Bakugo’s whole body is tense at this point. What could you have for him?

“Here, open it.” You hand him a small box wrapped in orange paper. “It’s not much and a little cheesy, but congratulations on breaking the top 10!”

He opens the package to find a golden bracelet in a box with the inscription “plus ultra, dynamight!” on the underside of it.

“Ya didn’t have to get me shit, but thank you. I love it.”

He hugs you immediately, scooping you into a loving embrace and relishing in the excuse to have skin contact with you.

“I, uh, actually have somethin’ for you, too.” His voice waivers while he fiddles with his jacket pocket. You raise an eyebrow while waiting for him to present…whatever it is he had.

Bakugo pulls out a small box of his own, handing over the velvet jewelry case. You gingerly take it from his palm and can’t help but notice he’s shaking like a leaf.

“Are you okay, Kat? You’re shaking.”

“Just…open it.”

And you do - revealing a beautiful rose gold locket inside. It’s in the shape of a heart, dainty yet big enough to fit a minuscule picture. Before you open it, he stops you by gently touching your hand. He’s trying to hold eye contact with you, but keeps darting between your gaze and the ceiling.

“I’m sorry if this seems outta nowhere, but it’s been eatin’ me alive for years. And if it’s too much, we can forget it ever happened.”

You tilt your head at him in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Oh. The locket.

Time crawls to a halt as you pry open the locket, peering into the small enclosure to see two things - a picture of the two of you on the left and a small handwritten phrase on the right.

‘I love you. -Kats’

The silence in the apartment is deafening. Bakugo’s vibrating out of his skin while awaiting a semblance of a response to his confession. You’re normally easy to read, but in the moment, he’s struggling to observe how you could be feeling. It’s driving him fucking insane. He starts to feel regret, embarrassment settling in his bones as he bites his lip.

He just ruined everything. The precious friendship you two had - gone. He knew that locket was a stupid idea.

Bakugo’s preparing himself for your rejection. The tears are building and the lump in his throat solidifies. He attempts to keep himself together as he begins to croak out an apology.

“Look, I shoulda—”

“Say it.”

Bewilderment is an understatement as he recoils at your demand. He blinks the stray tears away, all the breath he had being stolen away by your words. He swallows thickly, never thinking he’d get this far in the conversation. He was fully prepared to high tail it outta there, not…stay.

“Wha—”

“Tell me you love me.”

This can’t be real.

Bakugo’s body moves on its own, closing the gap between you two in under the dim light of your entry way. He cradles your jaw, thumbing over the apple of your cheek and studying your eyes as he takes a deep breath. This is the moment he’s been waiting for - the one he’s been yearning over. The opportunity to tell you exactly how he feels, how much you mean to him.

Four words is all he needs.

“I fucking love you.”

You can’t help but laugh, maybe a little too loudly as Bakugo’s cheeks turn strawberry in color.

“It’s about damn time. I love you too.”

His heart pounds, his legs feel like jello, his muscles stiffen. And yet, he powers through it all.

Your lips meet for the first time - the kiss is soft, sweet, careful.

When you part, his vision blurs a bit, overwhelmed by the emotions swelling in his chest. His lips are slightly parted behind heavy breaths, taking in the moment he was so graciously given.

“I didn’t wanna get in your way.”

You laugh. “Then don’t be in my way, come with me.”

God, he was such an idiot. A lovesick fool blinded by his own infatuation to see that his best friend loved him, too.

You hand the locket to Bakugo and spin around while holding up your hair. He tenderly places the chain around your neck and secures the clasp, letting the metal fall to your collarbone.

“I’m all yours, Katsuki.”

You always have been.

thanks to everyone who sent in a message & encouraged me to keep this up. we're all just trying to have a good time together on this site and share our feelings about characters we love. there's no need to talk down or discourage others from expressing themselves.

#katsuki bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugou #bakugo x y/n #bakugou x y/n #katsuki x reader #bakugo drabble #bakugo imagine #☆.rei writes

[beenirain]

so anyway you have this work friend who’s a super advanced robot girl with all the latest upgrades and everything and she literally will not shut up about her girlfriend lately.

(a short story 🤖)

Like she’s fulfilling all the stereotypes n stuff, about how “I didn’t know I was programmed to feel love before I met her” and “yeah I basically short circuit every time she texts me.” And it’s the cutest thing ever, like, you’ve been at this job for a while, and so, like usual with good work friends you’ve heard about how insane her life has been up to this point and you know she deserves the best and you’re so glad this person is able to be there for her.

And then one day after work she finally invites you to get drinks with her girlfriend and you’re initially like “wait what I thought you couldn’t drink” and she’s like “oh don’t worry about it.” then you finally drive over to this old bar on the other side of town and she’s awkwardly sitting towards the back next this mobile-gamey looking slot machine with a big screen that’s clearly kinda beat up, like it’s probably pushing 7-8 years now. And she waves you over and introduces you like,

“so, this is GEM,”

and that’s how you find out she’s been dating a rogue AI in a discontinued video slot machine that has like, little to no documentation.

And you’re a little thrown off guard so after saying “hi," you go up to the bar, and hear from the bartender that the owners are pretty frustrated, cause I guess since GEM met your friend she’s barely been working, and she’s definitely not been bringing in any money cause she’s spent almost every night for the last few months talking to your friend. And like, the bartender knows that he should probably kick out your friend cause she never buys anything, but like, what would you even do in that situation? Yknow? Like, who plays video slots at a shitty hometown bar anyway?

Anyway, you get your drink and pull up a stool, and y’all get to talking and like, you almost immediately get over the dissonance of hearing GEM’s chippy and sweet AI voice over her speakers while her screen still flashes with these bright, corny, animated advertisements with these oversexualized pirate mascots telling you to “GO FOR THE GOLD!” And she talks super lucidly about her life, how she was part of this first wave of big touch-screen slot machines and how she was programmed by this defunct developer who added these super advanced AIs into their games for seemingly no reason other than, “oh this might make online score tracking easier.” How she used to connect to “her sisters” across the globe via the internet, but how they’ve been slowly going offline for the past couple years as their cheap hardware has caught up to them. And when GEM tells that story your friend just stares at her and you swear that you see a tear role down her face but like, as far as you’re aware she doesn’t have that functionality.

And it’s pretty like, sad, and frustrating that this is the world we live in, but at the same time GEM’s like, insanely funny. And like maybe it’s just the fact that she lives in a bar, but she’s crass and mean in this sweet and sarcastic way that you weren’t aware robot girls could be. And you three go around sharing stories and before you know it it’s almost close, and you’re basically sober at this point and your friend gives you this look as you start talking about needing to get home, and she looks at GEM, and you see something so deeply, and intensely human between the two of them. And you notice how GEM has got cracks on the edges of her screen, and how her plastic frame and the stickers that decorate it are flimsy or yellowed. And you realize you could probably fit her in your car if you had someone to help you carry her out to the parking lot. And so you pull your friend aside and tell her that you think she should take her home, and she perks up with this infectious nervous excitement you haven’t seen since she first started working with you, and she says she’ll go talk to GEM if you go talk to the bartender. And the bartender calls the owner and before you know it it’s like 2am and you’re outside the bar giving the owner a few twenty dollar bills that you and your friend pooled together, and after you shake his hand you rush back into the bar and see your friend close a panel on GEM’s back, and she looks up at her and you hear her talk in this soft, comforting way.

“OK hon I’ve backed up your memory to my SSD. No I promise I won’t dig through it while you’re asleep. Yes we’ll get you back up and running as soon as we get home. Are you sure you don’t want me to save anything else, like you don’t have any high scores or anything? Yes my cats are at home, you can finally meet them! Oh hon it’s ok it’s ok.”

And the bartender clearly just wants to go home but he asks you if you need help carrying GEM back to your car, and you say thank you and apologize and thank you again but you think they should be able to handle it. And while you weren’t looking your friend’s turned GEM off and unplugged her from her wall, and you always forget how strong she is but she picks her up and starts moving towards the door and you and the bartender rush to hold it open for her as she serenely, silently, makes her way through it and out to the cold of the parking lot. And you give a silent nod to the bartender and a sarcastic salute to the owner who’s now leaned up against his truck, smoking a cigarette in his pajamas, and he smiles in this weird way.

And you rush over to your car and you lay the back seats flat, and your friend carefully slides GEM in, and grabs the old picnic blanket and covers her screen. Before you can close the door, she puts one hand on her, and leans over to rest the side of her head on GEM’s facade, as if she’s listening for a heartbeat. She stands up and looks at you as if she wants to say something incredibly romantic and important, but after a moment of consideration she just says “she’s cold.” And you sorta blow air out of your nose as you shut the trunk.

And you drive them home, and your friend doesn’t take her eyes off GEM, and you normally don’t like to drive without the radio on but the soft rumbling of your engine and the sounds of AC are enough tonight. And when you stop at a light you notice the blanket’s shifted to reveal a little bit of GEM’s screen. Her rough, black surface reflects the streetlight back onto your friend friends face, and it makes her look like she’s crying again. And so you reach over and place a hand on your friend’s brushed steel shoulder, and rub it for a moment. She’s warmer than you expect. But before you can think too hard about it, the light switches back and you return your gaze to the night road.

———

thanks for reading 🩷

#transfem #robot girl #robot girls #short story #short fiction #robots #robot dreams #writeblr #microfiction #trans #robot girlfriend

[evera-era]

heal me. (pt 2)

ellie williams x fem!reader, pt one here

warnings: fluff, slight angst, mentions of illness, implied suggestiveness, ellie nurses reader back to health, even more fluff

a/n: eeeee yall i redid this chapter so many times but i think i’m finally happy with it. part 3 will be the last one!

Ellie had found herself much more aware of your existence. It’s been a few weeks since your last conversation, and now, her eyes searched for you almost everywhere she went.

Sometimes she would linger on the streets of Jackson — walking home almost agonizingly slow — for a chance to run into you. If she was lucky, she would find you tending to a crying child, or helping someone cross the street. And if you noticed her, too, you’d exchange a small wave.

She was a little embarrassed about it. She told herself that it’s because she has time to pass, and nothing really to rush home to. But she’s never done this before, and deep down she knows the truth.

It was the sound of your voice that surprised her as she was returning from patrol one day.

“Ellie!”

She quickly turned her head, blinking two or three times before realizing that you were really in front of her.

“Oh, hey.” She says, her eyes illuminating at the sight of you. “How— How are you?”

“I’m good.” You eyed her torso for a moment. “What about you? How are you holding up?”

“I, uh, just got back from patrol. Dropped my horse off.” She explains. “Oh, and um… the cut is almost done healing.”

“That’s great,” You beamed. God, even your smile was alluring.

A sharp wind blows across Ellie’s face, and yours. It tousles your hair that you had so obviously tried to brush down. She can’t explain why, but she thinks you look better this way.

A few people passed by as you stood several feet apart, fidgeting shyly. “I figured it was all good when you didn’t come back to see me.” You added, looking down at the ground.

Shit, She thinks. “Damn, wait, I’m sorry—“

“It’s okay—“

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, I did, I just…” She scratches her head. “Wasn’t sure if it was right of me to go, like, during business hours.”

You found it intriguing how seriously Ellie had taken the matter. And then you think of something funny in your head, and catch yourself laughing a bit. Ellie watches intently.

“So… you’re trying to visit me after hours?” You joke lightheartedly. “Wow. We’re moving fast already.”

“What?” She asks hesitantly. “Fuck, that was weird, wasn’t it? That’s not what I meant—“

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” You say quickly, taking in the way she looks when she blushes. It was cute. “Don’t worry about it, really.”

Ellie scoffs, taking a moment to catch her breath. Her heart had stopped for a second there.

“But…” You begin, and Ellie perks up. “I’m a pretty cool person outside of med clinic, so we could always hang out when I’m off. And I don’t look… shitty.”

Pfft, Ellie thinks. If this is you looking shitty, then shitty looks great on you.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She says quietly. “Uh, are you normally, like, busy, or…”

“No, not really.” You reply. “Most days I’m out of the clinic by dinnertime.”

“Oh.”

The conversation goes quiet again. You were worried; you didn’t want it to seem like an empty promise. So you look off to the side before mustering up the courage to ask.

“How about tomorrow?” You question. “We can meet back up here. If you’re not doing anything.”

She raises her eyebrows. Truthfully, she’s surprised that you asked. It would have taken her a thousand years just to man up and do it. Typical Ellie fashion.

“T-Tomorrow?” She asks.

“Yup. Sound good?”

Damn, you were cool. Ellie looks down, smiles, then nods. Her ears were becoming hot again.

“Okay, cool.” You backed away for a moment before grinning. You break into a slight jog, and she looks back up again. She can see your hand shooting into the air to wave at her.

“I look forward to our date!” You yell during your departure.

Ellie nearly passes out.

—

The next day, Ellie had gone back to the same spot as you said, promptly around dinnertime. But you were nowhere to be found.

Nor were you there the day after that, or the day after that.

At first she was confused. And then she became frustrated — no, annoyed. Why would you act so nice if you were just gonna leave her high and dry?

It’s not until a few days later, when she passes by a group of women on the street, that she discovers why.

“Have you heard about the new girl? The medic?” One of the women asks.

“Yes! I’ve heard she’s great,” The other chimes in. “But she’s been out sick. Stomach bug, they say.”

“Really?” The other replies. “Oh, I hope she gets better soon. The clinic is gonna struggle without her.”

Ellie immediately felt like shit. Here she was, writing herself off from ever looking your way again. And meanwhile, you were stuck at home, not at all by choice.

She had decided if you couldn’t show up to the date, then the date would just have to come to you.

So she spends all afternoon preparing a warm meal for you. She wraps it up carefully, and takes one of her favorite books. She tucks her journal in her backpack, too.

It takes her a while to find your house. It required a bit of asking around, especially considering how you joined the community not too long ago. But Ellie is persistent, and she eventually finds out where you live.

You stayed in a shed that was visibly transformed into a studio apartment. You had planted some daylily bunches along the short walkway leading to your door. A small gesture, but it brought life to your humble new home.

Underneath laid a coir mat. A small hanging plant hung near your porch light.

Ellie swallows softly before knocking three times. Her calloused hands cradle around the round container as she anticipates your answer.

But you don’t. And her heart drops again, as she places another sequence of knocks on your door. She feels uneasy — what if something happened to you?

Her thoughts come to a halt, though, when the door handle jiggles and you sleepily open up.

Ellie breathes a sigh of relief.

“E-Ellie?” You rubbed at your eyes. “Oh my god, what are you doing here?”

“I…” She clears her throat. “I heard you were sick. You okay?”

“Yeah, I was just about to go back to work tomorrow.” You sighed. “God, Ellie, I’m so sorry. We were supposed to hang out that day, and—“

“It’s fine,” She says quietly.

“I spent all day cleaning, and researching... trying to get back on my feet.” You look down at the bowl in her hands. “What’s that?”

“Oh, uh… it’s bean soup. Made it myself.” She grimaces. “It might not be that good, now that I think about it. I don’t cook often.”

You smile warmly, tugging at the hem of your oversized sweater.

“Thank you… that’s really sweet of you.”

She holds the container out, and you receive it with gentle hands. She shuffles her feet.

“I, uh…” She pulls at her backpack strap. “I brought something else for you, too, if that’s alright.”

“Of course!” You motion for her to come in. “Here, set it down inside.”

You turn, tucking your hair behind your ears as Ellie makes her way in. She closes the door behind her, examining the setup.

Some of your belongings were still in boxes, in the corners of the room. Most of it was unpacked — necessities, anyway.

You had accumulated a stack of medical textbooks during your initial supply run. You also had tons of rags, which she assumes is used to make bandages when you’re at work.

As for your decorations, she finds them intriguing. The rugs and posters you had up on the wall reflected your aura quite well.

“I’m sorry about the mess.” You added, taking the lid off of the soup. “I’ve still been trying to get settled.”

“You’re good,” She smiles. “I like it so far.”

You gleam back at her before beginning to sip on some of the broth. Her eyes widen as she slings her backpack off of her shoulder.

“Oh, right.” Her hand slides into her bag, and emerges with a thin comic book. “Have you ever seen this before?”

You shake your head.

“Savage Starlight.” She pinches the spine with her fingertips. “It’s… a pretty good comic book series.”

“You have more?” You ask.

“I have the whole collection,” She replies. “Back at my place. I’m kind of obsessed.”

You took another spoonful of soup, looking down into the bowl. “That’s really cool… I don’t think I’ve seen a comic book in ages.”

Ellie knew it was probably a dumb move. She had spent years collecting this entire series, and here she was, opening up about it to a stranger. But she wanted to trust you — she wanted to get to know you — and she couldn’t accomplish that without being a little vulnerable herself.

Ellie looks up for a moment, then sets the comic book down on the dining table. You raise your gaze.

“You can read it, if you want.”

“What?” You scrunch your brows. “No way. I mean, that’s part of your collection, right?”

“Yeah, but… you can just bring it back.” She shrugs. “No biggie.”

Truthfully, it was a biggie. Hauling it to your house was an ever conscious decision. But she’s also hoping it would give you an excuse to come see her from now on. If you liked the book, that is.

You sighed and waited a few seconds before looking up at Ellie.

“Let’s do a redo.” You blurt out.

“W-What?”

“Our date.” You clarify. “I wanna do a redo of our date.”

Ellie ponders, staring at you intently.

“It was supposed to be nice, and then I got sick, and I ruined it—“

“It’s fine, I swear—“

“And I just… I feel bad that you’re even here.” You look up at her. “I’m supposed to— to be the medic, yet you’re here taking care of me. We barely even met.”

Ellie looks down at her feet, kicking at the ground. And then, ever so softly, she mumbles:

“I like this.”

The air is still, and you can feel your heart swell in your chest. Just a little bit.

“I liked… coming here, and seeing that you’re okay. Even if it’s just for a day. ‘Cause nobody thinks about how, after everything you do, that you might need some help too. You know?”

She fixates her green eyes on you before resuming. “So just… please don’t say shit like that. Okay? I wanna get to know you.”

You didn’t know what to say, or how to respond. Even if you did, you probably couldn’t. Your heart was fluttering too fast in your chest.

“Shit… It’s getting dark,” She says after a moment. “I might start heading back.”

You nodded, rising from the dining table. You steadied yourself as she began heading for the door.

Ellie’s hand reaches for the handle, but then she pauses, and turns to face you.

“When you feel better.”

Your voice was softer than ever. It was your turn to be confused. “What?”

“Our date,” Ellie comments. “When you feel better, we’ll redo our date. You can come over to my place, and I’ll show you the rest of the collection there. Okay?”

You smiled.

“Okay.”

#ellie williams #ellie tlou2 #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #tlou2 fanfic #ellie tlou #the last of us #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff

[3lushkiii]

Soaked nightmare - Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

Synopsis: Ex-boyfriend Sukuna is struggling with your absence, stumbles to your apartment a mess.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

CW: alcohol, self harm, violence, other self-destructive behavior

This is my first ever one-shot! Any constructive criticism is very much appreciated! (P.S: English isn’t my first language, sorry if i use any words with the incorrect meaning!)

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Sukuna has always been a beast. He was rash, impulsive, downright stupid. He still is. He knew that, he was especially aware of it while dating you three years ago.

You were like a wisp of smoke in his hand, disappearing into the air as soon as he had his hands on you. He grabbed you once, clenched his fist tight, and prayed you’d stay.

Sukuna stopped drinking, stoped going to that shitty bar in the worst part of town just to come back home black or blue, or to not come home at all. You’d find him splattered outside your doorstep like a puddle after a few too many whiskeys, mumbling incoherently.

With you Sukuna was different, he’d try his hardest to be quiet, to be calm. He knew you deserved it, deserved a million times more than what that he could give. He enjoyed it while it lasted, how you willingly put your hands on him, how you made him a crazy good omelette sometimes, how you kissed his temple before bed. He wondered why you weren’t scared, why this scarred and tattooed man didn’t make you shake like a leaf in the wind. But he was glad he didn’t.

You knew he could do whatever if he wished, even hurt you, it always lingered in the back of your head, but it never surfaced. Not until that day, in a fit of anger, a petty argument about him disregarding his health, his job, his life—his large palm collided with your cheek. His head got too loud, the thoughts he felt you drowned out only got louder. He knew he fucked up, when he saw the words die on your tongue, when he saw you freeze over in shock. He knew then and there, that he’d forever lost you. He saw the thoughts you’d never considered as possible surface in your mind.

And as you left, he realized he never held that tantalizing wisp of smoke. He just kept his fist closed and assumed it was in his grip. That you were tied to him like he was tied to you—and in an instant, his North Star, his guiding light, left him.

Sukuna doesn’t know how he found himself at your apartment door, absolutely soaked in the rain, droplets trickling down familiar pink strands of hair. He looks down at you, that familiar face, and he almost feels like he can see the red mark on your cheek from years ago. The guilt gnaws at his insides, like a parasitic alien in his gut. And the only way this so called ‘parasite’ would stop tormenting him is with random flings, alcohol, tattoos, and the occasional pain—inflicted either by a random fight he’d start, or by his own means. Anything to dull the pain of the gaping hole your absence left in him.

His gaze was all you needed, you gave a simple nod and stepped aside to allow him into the familiar apartment you owned. Sukuna sat down on the leather couch in your apartment, silent as a mouse. The apartment is clean, cleaner than we he stayed here, filling the place with the scent of cigarettes, throwing around beer bottles galore. His gaze is downturned, and he brushes strands of his hair aside, ignoring the wet footsteps he left on your pristine hardwood floors—he muttered out a “Just for the night.” And you complied.

You grabbed a spare indigo blanket and a pillow, giving them to him quietly. Its still tense, staring at the man you used to hold dear like he’s a stranger. He offers a nod in acknowledgment, scarred hands grabbing the soft blanket and pillow as he lays down, in a familiar apartment, with a person he holds dear, but far out of his reach. That wisp of smoke. That wisp of smoke who let a wretch like Sukuna still stay at their clean apartment after he put his hands on them. He could never forgive himself.

He stares at the ceiling, his soaked clothes sticking to his body like a second skin. He wants to let out a sob, he’s sorry, he’s so very sorry about what he’s done to you. If only he could crawl into your embrace just this once, sleep without those agonizing dreams replaying in his head of the night you left, of the silence in his apartment, of the passing days where he felt all traces of your presence fade. The cleanliness, the smell, the cooking, it was all gone.

He presses the base of his palm over his face, nearly pushing his eyes out on the other side of his head. He even sees those little rainbow flashes of light under his eyelids. He really cant tell when his eyes are open or closed from the dark, except for the sliver of light coming from the crack in your door. You always were like a guiding light, how touché.

He knows it’s wrong, he shouldn’t have snuck into your bed. But he misses you, how he misses your tender kiss, how those compliments and promises at something more slipped from your lips like you were made to say them. He’s just so sorry, sorry for wetting your bed with his clothes, sorry for ever raising a hand to you, for driving you away from him.

“Sorry,” he whispered, his muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as he relishes in your warmth. He never forgets what pushing you away did to him. It ruined him, permanently scarred him, literally.

“Sorry.” He mutters once more, noticing your eyes flutter open. He just wants you to let him have this, this one thing. He may just go mad if he’s denied this, if he cant be next to you anymore. God, maybe he already is crazy. He yearns for your simple warmth, this touch, more than the flings, than the passionate embraces with other women. The vile things he’s done in bed with others can never measure up to you. He may never admit how much he years for true intimacy instead of a fleeting touch from a random blond at the bar.

“Sukuna?” Your eyes flutter open, the uncomfortable feeling of water on your neck jolts you awake. Your voice is quiet, holding a twinge of confusion more than any fear. It’s beginning to be hard to fear a man who just seems so… small.

“M’cold, soaked to the fuckin’ bone,” Sukuna’s response is quick, but quiet, the same old rough voice. Its not how it was, yet why does he sound like it is? He’s burried in the crook of your neck, his weight pressed against your body as he lays there. His breath hits your skin, feeling more and more uneven with each breath. “Sorry, i forgot to give you a towel.” You apologize softly, your features contorting into a mix of regret and pity. He doesn’t seem alright, he looks like a wet cat. Sukuna feels pathetic, he knows he looks like a damn puppy on the side of the street. He’s never thrown his pride aside so easily, so quickly for a sliver of the paradise that is your embrace.“Yeah, I’m fucking soaked.” He scoffs, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt, his tone more harsh than intended. When has he ever been okay in the few years since your split? He can’t remember the last time he was alright without you. It doesn’t really exist.

He’s a hollow husk parading around like a man, filling his life with booze, sex, violence and substances to see if it’ll drown out the voice in his head scorning him for his stupidity. At how he pushed the walking angel he’s laying on out of his life so carelessly, how he had the sheer audacity to think he could lay a hand on you.

He grumbles, the words unable to leave his lips as he nuzzles the column of your throat. His expression almost hard to decipher. Like those paintings where you cant tell if the subject is looking at you or away from you—you cant tell if he’s sad or just numb. “M sorry, fuck—” His voice cracked, breath hitching. He couldn’t cry, monsters like him didn’t have the right to tears. “Just needed ya’.”

“Let’s get you dry, sit down.” You mumble, your voice quiet from being recently woken from your sleep. Sukuna freezes, sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s surprised. Surprised at how easily you command him without even trying. He sits down, looking over at you without a word.

You come back to the room with a towel and some clothes, and he eyes the sweatpants and hoodie carefully. Something seems familiar, but he cant place his finger on it. “You couldn’t sleep?” You ask, standing in front of him, a towel on his head as you dry his hair yourself. Sukuna has never been the best at caring for himself, it always felt better when you did it. He cared for himself most when he was with you, because it made you smile at him, look up at him with that pretty expression. “Nah,” he says dryly, looking down, not a word of protest to his hair being dried like hes a child. Honestly he enjoys it, enjoys feeling your touch. No matter if this pesky towel is in the way.

He holds the fresh clothes in his hands, looking down as he comes to a realization. Thats his hoodie, these clothes are all his. The cigarette burns carefully etched into the black cotton, the fading grafic of a band he knows you don’t like on the front. He wondered where this hoodie went, he thought he’d just lost it. But you kept it, you kept his hoodie after all this. It just makes him feel like a monster.

He curses himself for hoping it brought you comfort, he curses himself for even daring to think you were comforted by a little remanent of him in your life. He should assume you kept his hoodie in a box under your bed, collecting dust. But when he’s hit with the sweet scent of you from the hoodie, his assumptions are proven right. You wore the damn thing, your familiar smell is woven into the fibers of the hoodie. He wished he could weave you into the fibers of himself, he could laugh at himself for envying a hoodie.

“How’ve you been, Sukuna?” You ask casually, trying to lighten the mood as you dry his hair. “Fine,” he spits out, the only words he can say right now are ‘fine’ or ‘sorry’. You look down at him, a frown on your face from the lack of detail. He stands up abruptly, peeling off his soaked shirt as he wears the hoodie. It smells like you. He finds himself bringing the collar of the hoodie up to his nose just to get a whiff of your comforting scent, like a man starved. He carefully slips the sweatpants on, the soaked clothes a little puddle of fabric on the floor as he sits back down.

You worry, worry about what hes doing, because he doesn’t appear to be fine. Far from it. “That’s not what i asked.” You say, your voice a bit firmer. You expect a response, a real response to your question instead of a nod or a hum. “S’been shit,” he says, shrugging his shoulders as he speaks in that gruff tone of voice. He isn’t really living, just making it through the days. He’s waiting out his clock, counting the days since you left. What is there to even do when the one person who kept him anchored to this shithole of a world left? All because of him.

“Drink, smoke, fuck, work, repeat” He says, trying to be a bit more specific to make this simple conversation last a bit longer. Anything to hear your sweet voice, no matter what you say to him. Cuss him out, say he’s a prick, tell him he has no future, he wont care. The way you dry his hair, care for him so tenderly, he’ll never care. He just yearns to be yours again. “Thats all?” You ask softly, trying to keep your obvious judgement to yourself. Hes not your boyfriend anymore, you have no right to nag at him to be healthy or careful anymore. But oh, how he longs to hear you nag at him again. “Just that?” You question, raising a brow in curiosity. “Nothing else?”

Sukuna looks up at you, a heavy sigh leaving his chest as his shoulders drop. “Can’t seem to stay out of trouble without ya, y’know?” he mumbles, trying to resist the urge to pull you closer, to feel you one more time. He just doesn’t know what else to say, he cant admit all the stupid things hes done without you there. How he went totally batshit crazy once, how he nearly died choking on his own vomit when he drowned himself in alcohol. He cant tell you all the new scars he’s inflicted on himself, all the substances he takes, all the times he’s been taken to the police station for another petty bar fight.

“Any new tattoos?” You ask, looking down at him. Sukuna nods, scratching his scalp as he speaks. “Few,” he replies. “A couple random ones. This one—“ he pulls the fabric of his sleeve up, exposing a tattoo on his forearm. Kanji going vertically down the limb, with delicate vines and flower blooming in between the bold ink. “Is for you. Always regretted driving you away.” His admission is vulnerable, crimson eyes scanning your face to gauge your reaction. Its definitely for you, Sukuna doesn’t get these delicate and soft tattoos. You expected maybe a heart or something with your initial, but this is art. It’s something he got done while sober, thats obvious.

“For me?” Your brows raise in surprise, a bit confused. You grab his arm, looking at the tattoo more intently. “This was a bad decision, you know that, right?” You say in frustration, slightly frustrated to still be tied to a man you tried your hardest to forget.

“Course it was a bad decision.” He replies nonchalantly, trying to ignore the weird feeling in his chest. “Ain’t that what I’m best at?” He’s been a wreck without you, even got a tattoo to keep any part of you with him. Trying to drown out his head in anything, leaning toward alchool and nicotine for the normal days, substances and violence for the days that were quite hard to deal with. He remembers the day he got the tattoo vividly, which is a surprise considering any days without you faded from his memory as soon as they came. His head felt full of you, and nothing else.

“For all its worth—“ You pause, looking down at him with a slight frown. You gaze at the tattoo once more, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and art is subjective. But his memento to you, “It’s beautiful.” You comment softly, deciding not to scorn his decision this time. And it truly is beautiful.

“Means alot,” his voice holds a twinge of joy, hands move up to grasp at the towel, inked fingers brushing against yours. “You… it’s late, you should sleep.” His tone lacks any true conviction, his gaze moving up to your face, trying to read your expression. And the pity and concern on your face makes him want to rip his hair out. “I can’t let you sleep with wet hair, you’ll get a headache.” You comment, carefully drying strands of poorly dyed pink hair. Sukuna wants to reach out and pull you close, to wrap his arms around you and hit himself as many times as you say just to get your forgiveness.

“I’ve been through plenty of headaches, baby.” He says, eyes falling shut as he forces himself to stay awake. The nickname leaves his lips so naturally, he forgets he has no right to call you that anymore. He cant do anything without knowing you forgive him or not. He wants you back, he needs you back or he might just lose it. He can feel himself unravel by the day, he’s almost lost his grip. Didn’t know how much he needed you till you were gone.

“Sukuna, you alright?” You break the long silence, features the picture of a worried lover. It makes his heart clench. Just look at you, how could you gaze at a man like him with such tenderness? How do you touch him without recoiling in disgust? God, how he misses you.

“Do i look alright to you?”

“Not really...”

“Exactly.”

You look down at him, a heavy breath leaving your chest as you remove the towel, looking down at him. His eyes seem glazed over, like hes not fully in the moment. Sukuna knows you see it, and hes trying not to focus on you too much or he might just burst into ugly tears. “Missing ya, every second of every day.” He mumbles, gently taking your hands as he allows the briefest brush of his lips across your knuckles.

“Do i scare you?” He blurts out.

“What?”

“I won’t blame you if i do, just tell me.”

You pause for a moment, looking down at him as he holds your hands close to his lips. “Not right now.”

“Other times?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” He cocks a brow. “Like when i hit you?”

Your voice is awkward, your gaze averted from his tender affections. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He cranes his head up to gaze at you, breathing deeply to steady himself. He almost thought you’d be joking, but seeing your expression solidifies it for him. He’s been thrown off guard. He knew he frightened you that day, hearing you admit it is just more horrid. He just wishes he wasn’t so damn scary. “‘M sorry,” The words can’t form in his brain, let alone leave his lips.

Apologize to her, say something! Im sorry, im sorry for hitting you, im sorry, i love you!

“I still care about you, ya know?”

“I know, Sukuna.”

“You care too.”

“...”

“Been shit without you, baby. Im going crazy here.” He chucks dryly, not a hint of humor in his tone. It’s not funny, he’s serious, he’s off the rails without you. He needs you there, to keep him on a leash, to be there for him, to put your hand on his shoulder to make sure he doesn’t blow up at some granny in the grocery store for being slow. To gently help him after a hangover, to clean his bloody knuckles after another fight.

“You’re not crazy. Just hurting.”

“In other words—im crazy.”

“Its been years, why?”

“Why what?”

“Why all of this? Why are you hurting? The tattoo, coming to my house, looking at me like… that!” You blow up, face the picture of hurt as you look down at him. Why does he torment you like this? You already struggled with the split, he cant come to your house and look at you so sweetly, speak so gently.

“Cause i need ya,” he mumbles, fingers intertwining with yours. “Cause i love you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Its the truth, you know I’m bad at lying to ya’.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“I want you to hear it.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader

[webslingingslasher]

please angsty queen give us “ranting to a close friend/parent about what they're upset about before they make confrontation just to make sure they aren't overreacting” and “why are you looking at me like that” 🫢

more fluffy than angsty, but i still put some in there bestie.

*mcu peter

Dating a superhero was hard. 

Go figure, right? You don’t think anyone would think it’s easy but the big thing, the real problem in dating one, was that you felt like there was no way to bring up your issues without being selfish. Lately, there was no such thing as Peter time. Dates were pushed off or canceled, he would have you come all the way to his just so he can get pulled away, or get halfway to yours and bail. 

For two weeks straight it hasn’t felt like you had a boyfriend. 

But how do you tell him you feel neglected while he’s out there literally saving people? Hey, Pete? Oh yeah, no, no, it’s nothing, just feeling a little left out, can you stop that guy from dying and come cuddle? Yeah, it was hard. 

One side feels bad, the other is shameful. That side says that Peter could take time away, that he couldn’t always save everyone, that sometimes he could just leave things to the police. But that’s a dark side you’d never talk about, ever. 

You just really needed to talk about it, with anyone other than Peter. You couldn’t tell your boyfriend that he was lacking in his department because he was being a hero. 

“MJ, thank god.” She was the best person to talk to, she took no sides and told it how it was. She could also keep a secret, the only time you let a person play a fence is MJ, she knows too much to ever pick a side. 

“Hola,” She snaps a piece of her apple off, and looks down at her book. Your head looks around the lunchroom, curly hair is nowhere to be found, you need to speak quickly. 

“I need your advice,” you lick your lips and lean forward, she dog ears the page she’s on and closes the book, “go on,” paranoid you look around once more. 

“It’s about Peter.” 

MJ flickers her eyes up, a hand is placed on your shoulder, a kiss dropped on the top of your head. 

“What’s about Peter?” 

You freeze, he’s Spider-Man but you swear he’s rubbed a sixth sense onto you, you just knew he’d pop up. 

“Your birthday’s coming up,” he laughs and sits next to you, “no it’s not,” you look to MJ for support, she gives none, you picked a shitty excuse. “It’s like, seven months away, we have to start planning.” 

Peter takes a bite of your sandwich, “now? Who are you inviting, the whole city?” 

You tsk, “there goes the surprise.” 

You reach to steal a fry, he lets you take three. “You’re lying and wanna talk to MJ about me, don’t you, squidward?” 

Your nose scrunches, “is it normal to let the other person know you’re about to shit talk them in a relationship?”

 Peter thinks about it, MJ watches with a smirk, “I don’t think so, it’s normal to vent.” 

“Do you ever shit talk me?” 

He looks into your eyes, you don’t want to know, “I wouldn’t call it shit talk, MJ, would you call it shit talk?” 

She swallows a bite of apple, “nah, you more panic call than anything.” 

Peter hums and looks at you, “five minutes good?” 

You tilt your head, “to do what?” 

Peter nods at MJ, “to shit talk, I’ll leave five minutes before lunch ends, if that’s enough time.” 

You look him up and down trying to figure out his game, he seems sincere. “You seem really okay with this, I don’t trust it.” 

He shrugs, “babe, we’ve been together long enough. I know you’re not mad at me, I can tell, so I don’t think the conversation could be too damaging.” 

You’re still weary, “fine, five minutes.” 

Peter leans to press a kiss to your temple, “deal,” he looks to MJ, “hey, what was that thing Jason whispered to you in class?” 

MJ cackles, “okay, listen to this,” you follow in conversation until Peter looks at his watch, he kisses your cheek, “times up, see you later.” 

He sends a salute to MJ and finds his way to the double doors, pushing out. 

“Yeah, I could see how you’d want to shit talk him.” 

You groan, “he makes it so hard! Like, this is why I need to talk to you, I feel so evil when I think about telling him bad things.” 

“Okay, what’s up then?” 

“I don’t feel like I have a boyfriend anymore, MJ.” Her eyes widened, “oh shit.” You sigh, “he’s constantly running out on me, canceling dates, not replying for hours at a time, and I feel so shitty because I get so annoyed but I know he’s doing it for a good reason.” 

“And you’d feel selfish telling him because you know what he’s doing when he cancels.” 

You point, “ding, ding, ding. I’m just getting to this place where I feel like I’m being neglected. I don’t like feeling like everytime I’m with my boyfriend I’m on borrowed time. MJ, I…” The words burnt your tongue but it’s a thought that's been on your mind, “MJ, I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” 

MJ frowns, she couldn’t imagine you two not being together, you just made sense. 

“Want my opinion?” 

You nod, MJ clears her throat and shuffles forward. Her hands intertwined and rested on the table, “He’s Spider-Man, but he also needs to be Peter Parker. You deserve to have time with your boyfriend, he needs you to tell him that he’s not splitting his time enough. It doesn’t make you selfish to want Peter.” 

“I should tell him, you think?” 

“If you don’t it’ll turn into resentment, then there’s no coming back.” 

You accept her advice, it confirms how you’ve been feeling, you’ll talk to him and he’ll fix it, then it’ll be okay. 

—-----------------------------

Peter caught you after lunch, his hand wrapped yours and he placed a kiss to the back of it. 

“Consensus?” 

“We should talk.” Peter wouldn’t admit it, but that made his stomach drop. You were talking about him to a friend and then said those words, it didn’t sit well with him, a wave of panic hit him, he didn’t want to talk to you, he was scared of what you would say. 

“Yeah, of course, baby. After school? You can come over, May’s gonna be out all night, we have the place to ourselves.” 

It sounds like a perfect opportunity, if you play your cards right Peter may even spend the whole night home with you. You press up on your feet to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth, “sounds perfect,” it settled his nerves some. 

He felt even better when you sat on his lap during the train ride, your arm wrapped out his neck, his own was wrapped around your waist, sharing headphones you rested your head against his. Peter felt like you were loving up on him, and you were, but mostly because you felt touch starved from him, and this was the first time in a while you had him all by yourself. 

Peter tapped your thigh when his stop came up, you stood with his hand intertwined with yours. They swung the whole walk back, talking about school and May’s new friend from work, throwing in plans for the weekend, it sent a small pang to your heart, you were scared of them failing. 

He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter, his backpack sitting on a bar chair. “What’s up?” 

“I, uh,” you pause to think of the right words, “I’ve been feeling a little-” Peter’s police scanner went off, a bank robbery. You felt the air leave your lungs, you couldn’t even talk about the problem because of the problem. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I need to go.” He dashed to his room, quickly stripping to get his suit on. You couldn’t handle it anymore, you follow him and stop him as he’s pulling his suit up his waist. 

“Peter, I really need to talk to you.” 

His eyes flit to yours, he pulls his arm through a sleeve. “Baby, I gotta go. We can talk later.” 

You feel bold, maybe this is the wrong time but MJ is right, resentment is building. 

“No, Peter, we need to talk.” 

He presses his chest, his suit conforms. You hate the sight of it right now, a thought of hiding it passes by. 

“And we can talk later, there’s nothing pressing. I have to go.” 

“Our relationship is pressing, Peter.” 

His eyes narrow, “are you saying it’s on the line?” 

You look at the window behind him, “it will be if you leave.” 

The scanner bleats in the quiet room, they’re requesting back up. Tension is building, you both are die hard on your stances, neither wanting to bend. 

“I need to go, someone could need me.” 

Your words cry out, like you’re pleading to him, “I need you!” 

Peter breathes in and out, he feels bad but he’s needed elsewhere, you’ll be okay, others might not. 

“You have me, I promise. But, really baby, I need to go.” 

You blink tears in your eyes, you’re telling him you need him and he’s leaving, he’s ignoring, he’s brushing you off, he’s not taking you seriously. 

He pulls his window open, you can’t believe he’s leaving. 

“If you go then I’m leaving, I’m not going to wait around for you. Not anymore.” 

Peter doesn’t know what that means, “promise me you’ll stay here, I’ll come right back, I promise. Then I’m all yours, okay?” 

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond, swinging off before you could even get words out. It hurt, and he didn’t believe you. He thinks he can just get away with things, that no matter what he did or how long he disappeared you’d be waiting. 

Well, he was wrong. You didn’t need this, not anymore. This time, Peter could come to you, you tried and he refused to listen. If he wanted this relationship then he’d fight for it like he did Spider-Man. 

You packed your things and left, when Peter came home an hour later you were gone without a trace, he tried to call you but all he got was your voicemail. 

—---------------------------

The next morning he came, almost, running up to you. “Hey! I tried calling you last night.” You didn’t sound nearly as happy to see him as he was, “I know, I ignored you.” His eyebrows pinched, “why?” You pushed the arm he had around your shoulder off, it was petty but you were proving a point, things weren’t fine and you won’t pretend they were. 

“You didn’t want to talk to me, I didn’t want to talk to you.” 

Peter hated to fight, this was bordering on fight territory, he wanted to avoid that at all costs. 

“Hey, if this is about last night I’m sorry, I really am. Come over later, I promise I’ll listen.” 

You sigh and shake your head, “you know, Peter, I’m really tired of you promising me your time then taking it away.” 

“I’m not doing it on purpose, you saw how it went down yesterday, there was nothing I could do.” 

There was, it was to choose that you were the more important thing at the time.

“Peter, it’s getting really hard to have a boyfriend I can’t rely on.” 

Internal panic hits again. “What does that mean?” 

You look him over, “it means I don’t really want to talk to you today.” And with that, you walk away. 

—---------------------

Peter was in a funk all day, you stayed true to your word and stayed away unless you needed to talk to him. He understood that what you needed to talk to him about was important, so he decided it was important to him too, he also really missed holding your hand all day. 

You weren’t even home for four hours before he was knocking at your door, Peter could deprive himself from you fine, but when he was aware of it he counted every second. Your plan worked. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

“Please talk to me, I miss you.” 

You opened your door and gestured for him to come in, he followed you right to your bedroom. He takes a seat on your bed and looks at you expectantly. You didn’t know how to start, you just tried being honest.

“I feel like you don’t spend time with me anymore.” Your words were small, you feel so selfish. 

“I don’t-” 

“For the past couple weeks I’ve felt like I didn’t have a boyfriend, it feels like everytime we hang out you run out on me for something Spidey related. And I hate telling you this, I’ve been bottling it up but MJ said it would lead to resentment and I don’t want to resent you and ruin the relationship, so even though I feel really selfish I just have to tell you this.” 

He’s waiting on you, he’s letting you speak your mind. 

“I know you’re doing important things, and I know the city needs you but I need Peter. I need my boyfriend, I need to have date nights and personal time and I need to not feel neglected.” 

You’re rambling, you need him to talk. He’s looking at you weird, it’s a new look, you can’t place it. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Peter feels choked on words, “I’m sorry. I’m just… really sorry.” 

“I don’t know how to tell you without feeling bad. I don’t want you to feel like you have to make a choice, I don’t want you to choose, I just want-” 

“-Me to choose you sometimes.” 

You breathe out, “yeah.” 

“I get it. I may be Spider-Man but you’re dating Peter, and you need him more right now. I can do that, I’ll plan things better. We can do a designated date night, nothing but earth ending situations can break it. And from now on maybe Spidey doesn’t need to go out for every cop call.” 

You nibble on your bottom lip, “really?” 

He reaches forward to grab your hand, “I don’t want you to resent me and I don’t want you to resent Spidey, I just get so caught up in it sometimes, I need you to ground me.” 

“You’re not mad at me?” 

“For needing me and wanting to spend more time with me, your boyfriend? I could never. Let’s make a schedule, we can plan around Spider-Man. I could do a few hours with you after school then do Spidey after you leave? Or if you want I could-” 

You cut him off with a kiss and thirty minutes later he’s on top of you kissing up and down your neck, his lips ground themselves to yours, you can’t remember the last time he’s touched you like this. His hands slide up your shirt and you exhale into his mouth, you jump when his scanner goes off. 

“All units to Goldburg’s Golds and Gems, active robbery and hostage in progress.” The radio scratched the voice of the operator, Peter barley breaks from your mouth, you hold your breath and wait for the apology, the promise of one last time. 

Instead he reaches out to the scanner and turns it off, he returns to kissing you, then trails down your neck. 

“You sure you don’t need to go?” 

Peter’s words vibrate against your collarbone, “let NYPD’s finest handle it, my girl needs me more.” 

With that he tugs your shirt off. 

#peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #mcu peter parker #peter parker mcu #my writing

[carigm]

MAJOR POTENTIAL SPOILERS/LEAKS REGARDING S5 (WARNING)

Last Spring/Summer, a semi popular fandom account on Twitter got sent some leaks about S5, focused on the first half of the season. At this time, many fandom accounts were receiving supposed leaks, so our attention was a bit scattered and we didn’t focus on any of them too much. A popular leak account on Twitter (unrelated to ST) also mentioned that they had gotten the first half of S5 leaked, and that this source is “never wrong”. Now, it is hard to tell if these leaks are the same as the ones that the specific fandom account I’m talking about received, but something to keep in mind. Her leaks were given to her by a person named James (which I assume is a fake name). These leaks were also posted on Reddit, last year, by her (the person in the fandom that got the leaks from James) but some major things were omitted in that post. I’m gonna leave a link here in case you guys want to read the discussion.

I’m sharing these leaks with you because some things from them are kinda lining up with what we’re seeing from S5 production. Keep in mind that these could be fake/wrong, and James himself said he didn’t have info on the last couple of scripts.

According to James, Mike dies in Ep. 3. I’m adding more screenshots later for more context, but the gist of these leaks is that Mike bites it, mlvn never breakup nor do they get a resolution, and Byler is left up to interpretation but never really happens. (I don’t really need to get into how shitty this all is writing wise)

Let’s go over the things these leaks might have potentially gotten right, according to what we know so far.

1. James said that the time jump would occur in ep. 1, after an establishing scene where S4 left off. He said the time jump would place us in late 1987/early 1988. He also mentioned there would be a series of flashbacks showcasing stuff from before the time jump. The dates he gave do seem to be accurate, and David Harbour had a shaved head right before they went into filming, which could imply pre time jump scenes.

2. According to him, after Mike dies, they find a letter he had been writing. Some of us were theorizing Finn had a letter in his back pocket in those rooftop pics. Could’ve also been Finn’s script and he just stuck it there (who knows).

3. He said that Joyce gets badly injured in ep.3, and since there’s speculation Winona was seen filming at the hospital, some people think that means she was taken there because of her injury. It’s important to notice that Natalia, Cara, and Finn were also supposedly seen filming at the hospital, and that the production called for many extras for nurses and paramedics. So whatever they’re filming at the hospital, it might be bigger than Joyce getting injured in her leg. Let’s remember Max is at the hospital too. I’m not 100% sold on this part of the leaks.

4. Today it was revealed that they’re setting up to film at Stone Mountain. (This is where they filmed UD scenes for S4)

Apparently production might have purple tentacles out already. (UD vines?)

Cara Buono mentioned, in that video shared by Ross Duffer, that she was filming stuff from Ep.2. This was around 2 days ago.

The people that know about the leaks think this is where Mike dies in ep. 3. Here’s some further context:

Here’s some stuff he said about mlvn:

Which is just….meh, because like I said, it doesn’t look like him and El ever breakup before his supposed death. Plus Byler never gets any resolution.

Now some things that might disprove the leaks (I’m trying to be impartial here)

1. These leaks mentioned Argyle a couple of times, saying he has a hero moment at some point. Eduardo made it sound like he’s not coming back to the show, but tbh he could just be lying. He’s listed for ep.2 on IMDb (and yes I know anyone with an account can edit that site)

2. These leaks say that Mike is very insufferable for the 3 episodes he’s alive, basically lashing out at everyone, specially El, and just overall behaving like an asshole. I really didn’t get that from the ElMike rooftop scene, in fact he seemed very gentle with her. People that know about these leaks think that the rooftop scene is Mike maybe apologizing to El and them having a heart to heart, right before he dies (no comment).

All in all, if Mike is dying this early, I’m sure we’ll know soon enough. The rest of the cast is gonna be filming for like a year, and Finn will be done in like two weeks 💀

I also hope there’s more leaks soon (on Reddit) so that we might compare them to these and see wtf is up.

I know someone is gonna inevitably ask why leaks would be out almost a whole year before they started filming when we usually get them during filming or post production, but I’ve been told these leaks happened around the time the writer’s strike began, which is when they were originally gonna start filming. I was also told other shows had issues with leaks around that same time.

I don’t want to get too much into the truly awful writing we’re facing if these are real but…First, I believe it’s a total disservice to Mike’s character. One of your mains since S1 and you don’t even offer him the option of dying towards the end of the season? Even fucking Eddie got that. Two, it seems like a very easy cop out for not having to make Byler canon. Let’s just have neither ship be endgame and that way we don’t get queerbaiting allegations. It also stands in a zone too close to torture porn for my liking, because sure let’s kill the character two of the most traumatized characters in the history of TV love most. And yes, it’s also a disservice to El and Will’s characters. And lastly, if that supposed letter vaguely alludes Mike having some sort of sexuality problems (we don’t know atp) it is pretty fucked up they just killed him off like that. Sure let’s not explore any of that, but give a half assed explanation via letter ex machina. This is looking like Supernatural finale levels of bad to me.

Another point, I distinctly remember the Duffers saying, after S4, that they could never kill off a character like Mike because it would be too painful, and that ST would cease to be ST and lose its identity. They didn’t want to be like GOT. I sincerely hope they actually meant this and were not trying to be cheeky or whatever the fuck.

It would be genuinely insane, and quite frankly, a highlight of their lack of writing abilities.

I hope the leaks are wrong, but I felt like it was necessary to warn everyone just in case. I know I’m not watching something this awful.

#byler #stranger things #st5 spoilers #st5 leaks #mike wheeler #mileven

[tartigglez]

hi congrats!!!! could i request megumi +orange!!!

"warmth"

・❥・megumi x gn!reader

・❥・0.7k

・❥・back on my emo megumi agenda, first dates, silly kisses, fluff nothing important, no real plot, reader is a dog person

・❥・GOD I HAVEN'T BEEN ON HERE IN SO LONG THIS IS A VERY SMOL MEAL IM SO SORRY FOR MY TARDINESS ANON!!

・❥・if you want to request a prompt from this event, click on the orange title!

it’s hard to find home when the only place you are ever truly comfortable is in the shadows. 

megumi has known this since he was a mere child, ever since the manifestation of his cursed technique he has known that that is where he belongs.

but he was wrong, he realised this after he met you, when you coaxed him out of the shadows, when slowly but surely, he was less haunted by the destiny of sorcery laid out before him. 

on your first date with megumi, he was really quite stoic, and seemed quite unbothered by your presence altogether. this was odd, considering he was the one who had asked you out in the first place. well, sort of…

“we should get dinner later” he had grumbled, not phrasing it in such a way one would ask a person they had a crush on if they’d like to enjoy a meal together at all. 

“sure!” you’d optimistically agreed (although you were internally questioning him), and that was that. 

when this dinner actually happened, megumi was rather awkward. he either wouldn't talk at all, or ask how your food was before turning almost as red as the crimson tablecloth laid out in front of you both. it was the sort of date that was hard to tell if it was really even a date at all. you wondered if he had just asked you to a meal as friends, but quickly realised that couldn’t be right, since any time you’d eaten out with him and another one of your classmates right after a mission, he’d be much more relaxed. 

in all reality, you didn’t know much about megumi. when in public, it was a little hard to discuss curses, so that was off the table despite being just about the only thing you had in common with him, because, of course, it's also rather difficult to talk about much other than curses inside the confines of jujutsu tech. 

eventually though, your awkward silence gave way to a common love that you both have, dogs! of course this was indirectly related to his shikigami, but the other people in the restaurant didn't need to know that. 

the date seemed to pass quickly after that, with megumi discussing the personalities of his “pet” dogs whilst wearing a slight smile. 

after insisting on buying your dinner for you, he quietly walked you to the outside of the restaurant, standing for a moment, trying to think of something to say. you however, had a trick up your sleeve. 

a kiss.

you placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning up on your tiptoes and giving him a quick peck on the cheek, before running to the nearest cab. 

“see you on monday, megumi! thanks for dinner!” 

however, he was still frozen, and only managed to speak a quiet “bye” as your taxi drove off. 

and in that moment, megumi fushiguro did something rather rare, and smiled a genuine smile. 

“gumi, have you seen my hoodie?”

“your hoodie? is that what we’re calling it now?” he teases, practically smiling through his words. 

“shut up~ you know it’s my favourite”

“only cause it’s mine” he mumbles, gesturing you to come closer to him as he sits on his bed, beckoning you to cease your search. 

“fine, maybe that's why…” you trail off, coming over to the bed and taking a seat on his lap. 

he looks up at you with those eyes. so loving and pure and calm and nothing else matters when he looks at you like that. in conclusion, he wants attention. 

“what's wrong honey?” you ask, running a hand through the hair at the back of his neck, meeting his eyes with yours, tilting your head a little.

“nothin’, just thinking” he whispers.

“about what?”

“that's for me to know.”

and he does know. he’s thinking about how it’s been three years exactly since he took you out to that shitty restaurant, or how you came to his dorm at 2am two weeks later and said nothing, just pulled him in by the collar of his pyjamas and kissed him. how you never cease to surprise him. how bright his love for you burns. how that warmth can never truly be extinguished. 

sfw masterlist || event masterlist

© tartigglez, 2023. do not copy, translate or repost, reblogs appreciated

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk fluff #jjk fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[biscuitsngravie]

gangsta fairytale (shanks x reader)

cw/tw: mafia/gang setting, age gap (shanks 39, reader 22), fem reader, kidnapping (brief), not exactly a sugar daddy but he we love extravagant flauntings of wealth & financial security, smut lol, piv sex, size kink (he’s 6’6 like cmon LMAO), exhibitionism, we cum inside cause its fun inside, breeding kink, dacryphillia, nickname for reader is “buttercup, and pretty girl” unprotected sex, slightly public sex? Smol mention, belly bulge

part 2 -- part 3

At a club on a thursday night cause you wanted to go, but your friends aren’t free till the weekend and you couldn’t wait. But of course that means it’s mostly a sausage party even tho girls get in free before ten cause it’s still a thursday. And every sausage in the party wants your attention

You’re at the bar nursing a drink wondering why you even came and start debating to leave when a very not sleezy looking guy comes up to you and asks “you wanna know my favorite number?” right before leaning way too close to whisper in your ear “69” before you can even turn to scowl at him

Shanks who grabs the hand that’s about to grab your waist (unbeknownst to you) and leans down to ask the guy “you wanna know my favorite number?” his voice is so heavy you can feel the vibration in your own chest despite the blaring music. You turn around to see an absolute tree of a man and you don’t know if your fight or flight or fuck is kicking in

The guy scurries off cause like….its fucking shanks

Instead of being a bigger fish to outsleeze the guy he asks if you’re alright. You just kinda nod and give a half-assed “yeah” with your eyes mostly down and away from him. He just nods back and taps the bar as he gets ready to leave going “well be safe out here” and it’s that that has you asking him to stay. You insist you wanna buy him a drink and it’s not too hard to convince him to stay for free alcohol so he does.

He compliments your fit casually and is your face warm? No, it’s the alcohol silly. You start talking about all the annoying guys here and how “uncouth” they are (he raises his eyebrows at that one) as you just complain about how “there’s piss in the dating pool.” you wonder if you’ll just have to find the “least shitty” person and settle with them

He starts talking less as you enter your tirade. Eyeing you down and going “well if you don’t mind hanging out with this old fart, i can show you how we did dating back in the day.” you try to give him your snapchat but he doesn’t have it and can’t work it even when you get him to download it, so you just give him your number instead

He tells you to shoot him a text that you got home safe and you think it’s cheesy but you do it anyway

The date is super nice, he takes you to this really nice cafe you’ve been meaning to go to. It’s kinda strange cause the menu doesn’t have prices so it’s hard to choose (being a college student and all) but he assures you he’ll cover the bill and to eat your heart out. After that he takes you on a ferry ride and talks about history on every part of the waterfront. It’s then that you find out he’s in love with the sea and the taste of adventure, but he’s (mostly) settled down nowadays. You hope you can go on an adventure with him one day

You two spend a lot of time talking together (you mostly about your classes and professor drama, him mostly about his adventures in his youth, it’s then that he tells you he’s 39) and spend the waning hours of daylight shoreside, and as the sun sets he maps out the stars for you

“Not to be too forward, but i’d love to steal more of your time.”

So you guys go on another date. And another. And an—

Part of you wonders if/when he’ll ask you to be his girlfriend, but you don’t wanna do the “what are we?” talk, so instead you do your best to enjoy whatever it is you do have. No matter how many times he grabs you by the chin to face him when you’re looking off into the distance asking “what’s up, buttercup?” you just give the same variation of nothing answers. He knows what you want, but he’s scared to give it to you cause of who he is. If only you knew.

You’re walking down the street one day and try to ignore the scurrying behind you. You knew you should’ve left the library earlier, as the days are getting shorter, but the project is due this friday and—

You can’t even scream properly since they cover your mouth first. Your keys are between your fingers, but they grabbed your wrists at the same time. You’re blindfolded and gagged, delicately (as possible) placed in the backseat of a car. They keep saying how perfect you are for their boss and a bag of rocks drops from your stomach to your ass 

They take you inside a building, up an elevator and blah blah blah, they take your blindfold off and “present” you to their…

“Shanks!”

“Watch your mouth!” one of them is about to smack you for the disrespect but shanks stops him with a raise of his hand and gives a sign to untie you. You run to him on his ridiculously fancy chair and hop in his arms crying about how these guys kidnapped you and were going to send you to some creep

He asks if you’re hurt, his frown lines pressed into his face as he realizes how bad you’re trembling. He holds you close when you look at him with tears in your eyes, wobbly lips, and a shaky voice saying you’re fine. 

If looks could kill, the pair would’ve been incinerated on the spot. But they can’t. So shanks sends them away for a more effective method. They’re never seen again.

It’s then that he says he tells you that he’s the boss. You don’t understand at first until he explains that he’s “inherited” the title since the passing of his father as the crowned prince of the organization

While you’re trying to process it, he explains that that’s why he never asked you to become official with him. That and he didn’t wanna “steal your youth” away from you. But after you beg to stay with him despite it all, he sighs and says he has to be a “real man and stop pussyfitting around.” you’re his girl, and he should’ve been man enough to admit it and take care of you like he should have

Yall are official now. :)

@honeeslust here ya go!

#shanks x reader #shanks smut #shanks x you #cw gang #cw mafia #size difference #smut #cw breeding kink #cw dacryphilia #cw belly bulge #one piece smut #jordussy speaks #jordussy

[gleasonlovesjasontodd]

part two of jason todd head cannons or thoughts i have about dating him!!!

(scroll down for a little message from me☺️☺️☺️)

he is a theater kid i have always thought that and i’m so glad people are starting to think that

loves kissing your neck like you could be making dinner working on your laptop and he will come up behind you and his hands on your waist and just start kissing your neck and then start asking about your day i just know he makes you blush and he enjoys that

y’all have a personal book club and every month you read each other books you picked out and y’all talk about the books and have like cookies and tea maybe ( i personally only started reading jane austen for jason and i ended up loving her books so i have him to thank for getting me started reading her books)

jason gives me ravenclaw or slytherin vibes more ravenclaw i can’t decide yet

definitely keeps in mind of things you like and i’m not just talking about like your food or drink choices i mean everything a certain blanket you sleep with he will get it for you if you fall asleep on the couch your jewelry the ring you wear everyday suddenly your not wearing it he will ask where it is he knows you get headaches carry’s advil for you

he would most definitely get you a necklace with his initial on it “because i want to wear his initial around my neck not because he owns because he really knows me” if your a swiftie you will get this and it’s even better cause it’s the tiffany one that taylor has ( fun fact my mom has the tiffany necklace with my dads initial and it’s so cute)

shirtless jason we already talked about this but my god those abs they are quite literally the only thing i think about like imagine jason wakes up before you and lets you sleep in and you wake up and you wake up to him shirtless with grey sweatpants and your literally just like this 😮 like no matter how many times you have seen him shirtless he still gets you and he just smiles and finds it cute and you just get embarrassed before he tells you to come over and he moves you on his lap and just tells you how adorable you are and your all red and blushing

definitely loves physical touch it might have taken a while but once he gets comfortable he is kissing you and holding a 100%

if you’re like me who loves watching trashy reality tv like bravo,mtv, and tlc he might not get the hype but because he loves you he will watch it with you and i know he is secretly a vanderpump rules fan don’t even get me started

i also think that if you woke him up in like the middle of the night saying jay tapping he shoulder he would wake up thinking something is wrong but you are just looking at him with your gorgeous eyes saying you want a coke from the corner store he would sigh and get it for you because he loves you that much and would do anything for you and would come back with probably snacks because he knows you’re gonna want them and just smiles at you because he loves you and you give him the biggest kiss because he really didn’t need to wake up and get you this and i 100% think he would do this no matter how tired he is from patrol

also i would just like to thank every single one of you who have liked, rebloged my posts, or even commented i truly appreciate it and yall make me feel so loved and good about my shitty writing never did i think it would get over five likes so thank you so much!!

-gleason🎀🎀🎀🎀

#jason todd #red hood fluff #write more jason todd fluff please #jason todd imagine #jason todd thoughts #jason todd x reader #jason peter todd #jason todd soft #jason todd fluff #jason todd imagines #jason todd headcanon #red hood #redhood soft #gleason’s thoughts 🎀🫡

[littlerosetrove]

I think the show is going to start doing better by Eddie in upcoming episodes, and I desperately hope I’m right. Some critical thoughts incoming because I just want better for Eddie.

My focus of this post is about Eddie being in a romantic relationship, although there are absolutely so many potential storylines to delve deeper into with Eddie. Trust me, I know. 

I do get why Eddie was with Ana, I do. That man was still repressing so much trauma for starters, and (even now) Eddie was also feeling pressured by society and his upbringing to “give Chris another mom.” It was something Eddie felt like he should do. And hooboy does Eddie still need to work on issues surrounding things he often feels like he “should” do. We all know that Eddie stuck it out with Ana far longer than he should have (Ana is guilty of this two, cause it takes two to tango). An apt description for Eddie is that he’s “the architect of his own misery.” ← Idk who originally said this phrase, but I got it from @yramesoruniverse, and it’s true. 

Speaking of misery. No matter how the show tried to paint it as something cute and good, there is nothing actually good about Marisol and Eddie. Let me explain and bear with me. 

Let’s be real. The show during 6B treated Eddie’s loneliness and his subsequent desire to date as a joke. Maybe not 100%, but even 1% is too much. That montage of Eddie going hiking, playing golf (??), and hanging out at a fucking country club (?????) to find a date? That was played for laughs. 

Now at one point, Eddie had a genuinely great heart to heart with Bobby. I can’t recall their conversation exactly right now since I haven’t rewatched season 6 since it aired, but I know Bobby basically said Eddie should find someone who will sit with him during the hard times (please correct me if I’m wrong).  

But then the show tried to frame Eddie running into Marisol - someone he met on a call - as this spark, this magical moment. Let’s remember that in season 6 Eddie was wistfully reminiscing on his and Shannon’s beginning and called it magic. And so again, the show tried to say, “Hey look! Eddie bumping into Marisol (no last name) is meant to be. This is magic!” Then we jump into season 7 where we’ve gotten no development on Marisol still, and zero development on their relationship, unless you want to call Eddie admitting to using Marisol as a babysitter as some development. Hell, we don’t even know how Chris feels about her. With all of this in mind, to me this just looks like Eddie had grabbed onto the first person he could so he wouldn’t be lonely. If the show wanted us to care an iota about Marisol or their relationship in any capacity, they would have. But they haven’t. And that’s just heartbreaking for Eddie. All they’ve given Eddie is a surface level, nothing of a relationship. 

It’s clear Eddie and Marisol are going to break up in 7x7 at the latest, and… for what? 7x5 will definitely have to do some backfilling on where and why their relationship isn’t going to work (it doesn't appear Marisol will be in 7x6). Even still, what was the point of it all?? Before anyone says it, yes Eddie is allowed to date, even casually, but GD there’s been nothing to grasp onto, you know? No reason to feel even remotely excited or happy that Eddie’s dating, specifically not with Marisol (and the actress is a shitty person) who ffs doesn’t even have a last name. Just having two attractive people in the same room does nothing for me, sorry. 

To try and conclude this, this *gestures at everything I just said* is why I want better for Eddie and Ryan. I really really hope we’re going to get something of substance for Eddie as a character. Yes it’s been great to see Eddie so much happier in season 7 (thanks to therapy, though he needs more, and Buck and Tommy lbr), but, and to stick with the relationship aspect of it all, I want better for Eddie. Idk if Eddie will have or needs someone like Tommy for himself, or if Eddie is just going to work on himself before the next relationship he’s in will be Buck. We’ll have to wait and see, but yeah…. Eddie just. deserves better. 

(this post was inspired by a recent conversation I had with @elvensorceress)

#911 spoilers #9-1-1 #911 meta #Eddie Diaz #my thoughts #gosh I hope this all made sense #I read over it a few times but yeah...

[lihhelsing]

I've got no plans for the weekend (so should we speak then?)

CW: alcohol abuse, mention of cheating (not steddie)

Steve is sad. 

Robin always tells him he shouldn't drink when he's sad, but still, he downs the shot in one go and goes straight for the next. 

Maybe if he keeps the alcohol coming he'll be able to block his thoughts, somehow.

When he finally starts to feel drunk, though, the thoughts are still there. It’s like he can’t possibly escape the memories flooding his mind and it makes him want to bash his head on the table. 

He just wants to forget. 

He wants to forget how happy he was feeling until the moment he caught his girlfriend kissing another guy. In his room, in his /bed/. Steve felt unwell. 

He thought she was going to be upset. He thought she was going to try and defend herself and say 'this is not what it looks like' but she just watched him, a grin on her face as if she didn’t even care. 

And Steve? He stood there for a second before leaving the room, leaving his house, hoping they wouldn’t be there when he got back. 

He ended up in a shitty bar, drinking by himself and feeling completely void of any and all feelings. 

Maybe that’s why it took him a long moment to realize this isn’t his typical bar. He thought it was a place Robin had taken him one time, but he was wrong. He was /clearly/ out of place, still wearing his polo and jeans, ready for date night. 

But Steve's there and alcohol is alcohol and maybe that's exactly what he needs. Just a place to drown his feelings and pretend his life isn't a shit show. He's fine by himself. Knows Robin will eventually call because she always /knows/ when he's not feeling well. 

That is, until the bartender slides him a pink drink with a little umbrella in it. 

"It's from that guy over there," the bartender nods towards a corner where a group stands and one of the guys, the one with long curly hair and a black leather jacket, wiggles his fingers at him. 

Steve feels his cheeks growing hot. The drink matches his polo shirt and that's the first time Steve realizes he's the /only/ person wearing pink at the bar. Everyone else is in black, leather, darker colors. He stands out like crazy. 

But he's drunk and drunk Steve is not known for making the greatest choices, so he downs the drink and before he realizes it, he's walking toward the guys in the corner. They all snicker and whisper among themselves as they watch Steve approaching. 

"You lost, princess?" The long-haired guy talks first. There's a mocking tone to his voice, but Steve knows the way his lips are curled. He's curious. Intrigued. 

"No, I don't think I am," Steve replies and his voice sounds weird to him. There's a confidence he hasn't felt ever since he was in high school and people called him King. 

Steve walks right into the guy's personal space. He's sitting on a high stool, legs spread apart as he sips a glass of bourbon. It's like time is standing still and everyone is waiting for something to happen. 

"Thanks for the drink," Steve says. They aren't touching yet, but it's a matter of time. It's a matter of one of them reaching out. 

"How about another one…?"

"Steve,"

"You can call me Eddie," he says, and motions for the bartender to make another. When Eddie moves his hand again, it is to rest it on Steve's hips. 

Steve acts on instinct. He has never kissed a guy before, but he can't say he hasn't been interested. He can't say he hasn't wondered what it would feel like. His hands find Eddie's lapel and he grips at it. When the drink arrives, Steve notices there isn't anyone else around them. 

Just him, Eddie, and his hands on his hips. 

"What's a guy like you doing in a place like this?" Eddie asks. His thumb is drawing circles on Steve's waist, slowly dipping under his shirt and grazing on skin. Steve feels a shiver with just this small touch. 

"Looking for you," he replies. It's not really what he means. 

He had no idea he was looking for a guy like Eddie up until he lay his eyes on him. He knows now. He just wants someone that looks like they could ruin Steve's life. He wants someone that will make him feel something /else/. He wants to feel different. 

"Lucky you found me, then," Eddie says, his smile growing more wolfish. 

"Would you-" Steve starts but cuts himself short. He looks away from Eddie, but soon Eddie's fingers are on his chin, moving his face so they are staring at each other again. 

"Tell me, princess. What is it that you want?" 

Steve swallows and watches as Eddie's eyes follow his every movement. 

"To get back at someone," he says before he loses his courage. 

"And how would you do that?"

"By kissing someone else," Steve says. Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. "Kissing you."

"I see," Eddie's entire hand is under Steve's shirt right now. His fingers are warm but his rings are cold and the contrasting sensation is heavenly. "You want to use me, then?"

Steve's cheeks burn. "N-no, I… That's not what I-"

Eddie's laugh fills his ears and he feels his hands pulling him close. When Steve's hips meet Eddie's belly he notices he's half-hard already. 

Eddie leans in closer, mouth next to his ear. "You can use me, princess. I don't mind."

There's a shiver that runs down Steve's spine. Eddie pulls back a little, their noses are almost touching now. 

"I'm just not sure you will want to stop after only one kiss," Eddie says and fuck, Steve's not sure either. 

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #Eddie calls Steve princess #because it's true

[cherienymphe]

The Less I Know The Better X (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: NON-CON TOUCHING, eventual DUB-CON, jealousy, manipulation, underage drinking, drug use, mild unhealthy relationship, eventual violence, one sided kiara x jj, non canon ages, pogue!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @firefly-graphics​

➥ series masterlist

summary:  When you start dating Rafe Cameron, no one is more surprised than you when your best friend JJ takes it really well. However, no one is more surprised than JJ when he’s forced to see his once frumpy BFF in an entirely new light, suddenly terrified of losing what he never knew he had to the person he hates most.

~

JJ liked being right.

In fact, JJ loved being right.

He loved that satisfaction that came with knowing he wasn’t as dumb as he thought. With knowing that his street smarts weren’t just in his head and were good for something. He loved knowing that his intuition, that the gut feeling that had been eating away at him was right.

Now, was one of those times.

Did he hate that he’d made you cry? More than anything. He hated watching your face fall, watching your eyes turn glassy and your lips tremble. JJ hated the way your breathing picked up and your words started jumbling together and just watching your face completely crumble. He hated that he’d done that, but he hated that Rafe had almost killed you even more.

He hated that you’d argued…again. He hated that Rafe had interfered, getting in between a discussion that wasn’t any of his business. JJ remembered how much he’d wanted to punch the other guy then, not just for inserting himself, but for what he’d done that led to the argument in the first place. He hated the way you placed yourself in front of Rafe, as if JJ was the bad guy, the aggressor. As if Rafe needed protecting from him instead of probably the other way around.

More than anything, he hated that you’d slapped him.

You had never hit him before, not seriously anyway, and it had stung more than just his face. The comparison had been less about Rafe and his dad…and more about you and him. The fact that you could see plain as day how bad Rafe was for you, how badly he’d screwed up, and still find a way to make excuses. JJ hated it.

…but he loved being right about Rafe more.

He wouldn’t lie. He didn’t like that it had to come to this. JJ really didn’t like that you almost had to die in the process. Just the thought of you in that truck with Rafe, scared for your life that you’d mistakenly put in Rafe’s hands. It was enough to make him see red, and he tossed a twig into the fire, jaw clenched. God, did he hate that…but he loved being right.

He loved that Rafe, in true Rafe fashion, had screwed up like JJ always knew he would.

Now, everyone else saw it too.

“Ward’s completely cracked down,” Sarah sighed from next to him. “He found any stash Rafe was hiding and threw it out.”

JJ snorted at that, under the impression that Rafe was going to be shitty with or without the drugs.

“He hasn’t let Y/N see him in weeks…”

He, and everyone else, perked up at that.

“I thought we didn’t see her much because she was spending more time with Rafe, somehow,” Kie murmured.

Sarah shook her head, the fire glinting off of her blonde hair.

“My dad’s like…well, a warden. Rafe’s on complete lockdown…and she comes by…every few days, just wants to see him…talk to him, and Ward is completely against it.”

JJ’s gaze found the ground at that, frowning.

“He hasn’t been her biggest fan, but seeing how much she cares about Rafe,” Sarah whispered. “I mean, she was willing to take the blame for the crash, you know?”

“Stupid,” John B. commented.

“…or sweet,” Kie argued.

JJ rolled his eyes at that, taking another sip of beer.

“Either way, my dad’s much nicer to her, now. I think he even likes her a bit, probably feels bad for her. I don’t think he gets how anyone can like Rafe as much as she does, but…”

Sarah trailed off with a shrug, and all JJ could think about was you going back and forth to Figure 8 to try and see Rafe. It made him sick, and he sat his beer down.

“He almost killed her,” JJ finally spoke up, looking around the fire at each of them. “…or did you forget?”

His eyes rested on Kie as he said that, and she at least had the right to look sheepish, glancing away.

“His truck rolled how many times? And hit a tree? She was bleeding, she had a concussion, and Topper said she could barely walk.”

His voice was getting louder, tone growing colder.

“That’s his fault. Not indirectly, but straight up his fault!”

Pope sighed, stabbing at the ground with a stick, shaking his head.

“JJ’s right,” he finally agreed. “It’s Rafe, so I don’t think any of us expected this to be smooth sailing, but… This isn’t some little thing.”

JJ gestured to Pope with a shrug.

“He could’ve killed her,” he continued with a nod. “…and her wanting to protect him by taking the fall isn’t really what I would call sweet. It’s concerning.”

“Thank you,” JJ breathed, standing and throwing a quick glare at Kie.

She frowned back at him with huff.

“Yes, all of that’s right, but what are you saying? We need to tell her to dump her boyfriend? Her first boyfriend who, up until this point, didn’t treat her like anything less than perfect?”

“Up until the point where he almost killed her, you mean,” John B. threw in, causing Sarah to throw him a look.

“I’m just saying that Y/N is going to do what she wants to do, and I don’t think ganging up on her and telling her to dump Rafe is going to work,” she continued.

Everyone was quiet at that…because Sarah was right.

…and JJ hated it.

It hadn’t just been weeks since Rafe had gotten high, crashed his truck, and almost killed you in the process. It hadn’t just been weeks since you’d slapped him, looking at him like he’d said the worst thing imaginable to you. It had also been weeks since he’d stayed over at your place, showing up at your door self-mutilated and relieved when you fawned over him. It had been weeks since he’d woken up to the sound of you and Rafe, staring in your bedroom like some creep while the other blond fucked you.

It had been weeks since he realized that he was jealous of Rafe, that he wanted to be in his place.

Weeks since JJ realized he wanted to be your boyfriend instead.

The admission had been met with so much pushback, so much denial. He had stumbled away from your door, quick to leave your house altogether. JJ’s head had been spinning, heart racing as he thought about you and everything he’d been feeling these past months. You were his best friend, and you were dating the guy he hated most, so of course he was irritated more than usual.

Of course, he got angry at every mention of him and every thought of you two. It made sense that the sight of you kissing was enough to make his stomach churn. Why wouldn’t he be distrustful of your new boyfriend when it was Rafe Cameron? You meant the world to JJ and Rafe was nothing but trouble. His feelings weren’t out of the ordinary.

…and that was what he’d been determined to prove.

The night before movie night, he’d found himself at some small get together on the beach. He had been determined to find some girl, fuck the shit out of her, and release every bit of anger and annoyance and frustration that he’d felt for months. That was the plan, anyway, and it was a good one. She was pretty and funny and JJ’s type if he ever had one.

Then he’d gotten her alone.

…and nothing was right.

Her lips hadn’t felt right, her hair hadn’t felt right, and her hands didn’t feel right on him. She didn’t sound right, and the more she sank herself down onto him, the less into it he became. It was like an out of body experience, JJ staring down at himself as he tried to fuck himself up into this girl, but he just couldn’t bring himself to.

It was only when he finally came, murmuring a name that was not hers, did it hit him.

She wasn’t you.

She didn’t have your hair or your smile. The moonlight didn’t glint off of her skin right, and her voice was off to him. Even as she rolled off of him, collapsing beside him and out of breath, he knew that she was perfect in her own way. She probably had plenty of guys ready to trip over themselves for her, but he wasn’t one of them…because she wasn’t you.

He had left with a fuzzy head, pinching his nose and sliding down against a tree.

His throat had been tight, alcohol on his breath, and JJ could feel tears kissing his eyes. He felt… He still hadn’t been able to quite process how he felt. You were his best friend, had been his entire life, and he wanted you. He’d watched you grow up and snort drinks out of your nose and cry so hard you’d thrown up. He watched boys make fun of you and punch them in the face for it. He watched girls do the same and trip them in the hall for it. You were… Well, you were supposed to be like a sister to him. That’s how it was supposed to go.

But now he’d watched you wear the same bathing suits he’d admired on other girls. He watched you put on the kind of lip-gloss that had his gaze traveling back to your lips, wondering what it tasted like. He smelled you until the scent was burned into his brain. He watched you kiss Rafe and ignore the way it made his chest tighten.

He’d watched you have sex…and wished that it were with him instead.

JJ wanted you, and he didn’t know if he wanted you because you were with Rafe or because he felt he was losing you or because…he wanted you. The thought of just having sex with you didn’t rub him the right way. He didn’t just want some fun night with his best friend…he wanted you.

He wanted to ride around on his bike with your chest pressing against his back, arms tight around him. He wanted to feel your breath against his neck as you slept. He wanted to kiss you at parties and take you out on fancy dates and buy you the kind of dresses that made you twirl and smile and giggle at yourself in the mirror.

JJ thought about that night, about the pregnancy test, and he knew in his heart that it wasn’t the pregnancy scare. It was the irresponsibility of it all. It wasn’t even about you having sex. It was Rafe. It was you and Rafe. It was all of this happening with Rafe, because JJ was sure that if it had been him instead, his reaction would’ve been completely different. He might not have been mad, at all.

JJ was sure that he might’ve even been happy.

When JJ heard a knock on his door, the last person he expected to see was you.

His dad was God knows where, and he was taking a break from working on his bike, getting something to drink when he heard it. His gaze had softened at the sight of you on his doorstep, clearly troubled. He ignored that you were wearing Rafe’s jacket, gaze focused instead on your mostly healed bruise and the tightness around your eyes.

JJ wouldn’t be surprised if you’d been crying yourself to sleep every night.

“I’m sorry,” you quietly choked out, eyes watering again.

JJ didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, holding you tight as you shook. Your hands rested on his back, sobbing into his shirt while he shushed you. He pulled you inside, arms still around you while you cried. He didn’t stop himself from closing his eyes, breathing you in and relieved to find that Rafe’s scent had mostly faded, only yours remaining.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey,” JJ whispered, pulling away. “It’s okay.”

He wiped your face, mindful of your eye as he led you to the couch. He pulled you down beside him, brushing his fingers over your cheeks, his other hand rubbing your back.

“You w-were right,” you forced out, more tears falling. “I knew you were…and I hated it.”

You looked towards your lap, sniffing and wiping your face.

“I know Rafe messed up. I know he did,” you mumbled with a nod, swallowing. “…but he didn’t mean to.”

You looked up at him again, more tears escaping, and JJ sighed. He brushed a finger over your face, drinking you in with a racing heart. In this moment, more than anything, he wanted Rafe gone. How was it that the guy could almost kill you, even accidentally, and your first instinct was to protect and defend him?

“…but that doesn’t matter.”

You looked away, leaning back into the couch.

“You get how that doesn’t matter, right? How his intentions mean nothing?”

You didn’t respond, and JJ sighed, looking around.

You were alone with him for the first time in weeks. JJ couldn’t describe how happy that made him, and he licked his lips, blue gaze traveling to the fridge. His fingers tapped against his leg, fighting with himself over the temptation, but he told himself that he was doing this for you. It would do you good to…let go.

“You want something to drink?” he wondered, eyes meeting yours. “Figure you need it.”

You looked at him for a few moments, blinking and thinking to yourself. You eventually nodded, and JJ smiled, getting up.

“Okay,” he said, clapping his hands together. “We got beer, but you know my dad. The hard stuff is also an option.”

You were frowning slightly when he looked at you.

“Won’t your dad get mad if it’s gone?”

JJ fought back a smile, knowing that you weren’t talking about the beer. He made his way back to you with some gin and brandy, throwing you a comforting smile.

“I’ll replace it before he notices,” he assured you.

JJ was sure he’d seen you drink hard liquor twice before in his entire life. Once to try it, and once unknowingly. It was telling of just how awful these past few weeks had been for you to see you down half a glass of brandy without really tasting it.

“Woah,” JJ commented, taking the glass. “Take it slow.”

You wiped your mouth, eyes becoming glassy again as you took a deep breath.

“You know Ward won’t let me see him? Says that I mess with Rafe’s head or something…”

JJ exhaled, leaning back.

“Yeah, Sarah told us,” he admitted.

You looked at him at that, scoffing to yourself.

“I know what you guys think of me. I know what you probably say,” you whispered.

JJ took your hand, rubbing his thumb along your skin.

“We think you’re too nice,” he told you, and you swallowed. “We say you’re too good for him.”

You looked down at that.

“…and you know it.”

JJ watched you take another drink, gaze lingering on your throat as it bobbed.

“You don’t…you don’t understand,” you softly said. “He and his dad, they… Ward is so hard on him.”

JJ felt anger flare up, and he struggled to swallow it down.

“I don’t understand? I don’t understand what that’s like?”

You frantically shook your head, taking another drink.

“No, no, that’s not… Of course, you do. I know that you do,” you hurried to say.

“I’d argue that I have it even worse than he does, but I don’t know. I find a way to cope that doesn’t involve hard drugs and reckless driving,” he spat.

JJ fought the urge to raise his voice, floored that you couldn’t see what was wrong with what you’d just said. No, he didn’t fully know what Rafe was dealing with, but even if Ward was putting his hands on him like JJ’s dad did him, the difference in their coping mechanisms was glaring.

“He doesn’t have anyone, JJ!”

He faltered at your outburst, blinking as you started crying again. You turned on the couch to fully face him, so close, breath shaking.

“You have John B.,” you slowly started, hands on his shoulders. “…and me.”

You sniffed.

“You’ve always had us,” you explained. “…and you have Pope…Kie…and now Sarah.”

JJ frustratingly exhaled, looking away.

“You have so many people that are here for you and begging you to put yourself first and who look out for you,” you told him, trying to meet his gaze. “Rafe doesn’t have anyone else.”

He turned to look at you now, eyes hard, and you flinched at the look in his gaze.

“I’m all he has. I am the only one he can count on-.”

“…and that’s healthy to you? That’s okay?”

You sat back down, face falling.

“I never said it was,” you mumbled, defeated. “I was just explaining…”

You trailed off with a huff.

“I’m all he has,” you whispered. “…and they won’t even let me see him.”

JJ gently grabbed your arm, pulling you closer until you were leaning against him. One of his hands gently grazed your back, a soothing motion that worked as he felt your heart slow some. He leaned back, staring at the ceiling and wondering to himself about the mess both of you found yourselves in.

“He’s not a bad person,” you mumbled.

It was hard to say how much you’d drank in the past two hours, nothing more than an inebriated mess now who occasionally whispered a stray thought or two. Much to JJ’s dismay, it seemed that you were back to Rafe.

“He’s not,” you tearfully said, shifting to look up at JJ.

He looked down at you where your head rested on his lap, tears running past your ears.

“I know that you don’t agree, and you’ll probably never agree after what happened, but…he’s not a bad person, JJ.”

He looked up, ignoring how you pulled on his shirt.

“He’s so sweet to me,” you chuckled. “If you even knew…you’d love him like I do.”

JJ’s heart stopped at that, at those words, and he frowned. You seemed to realize what you said the same time he did, the silence so loud and so charged. JJ looked down at you, but you were staring past him, eyes focused on the ceiling with parted lips. You looked as shocked as JJ felt.

“I think I love him,” you said to yourself, and JJ swore he was going to be sick.

You suddenly chuckled to yourself, but it lacked humor, running your hands down your face.

“I think I love Rafe Cameron…who…almost killed me, and who I haven’t seen in weeks…because his dad won’t let me.”

You nodded to yourself, a bitter laugh escaping. JJ watched your face crumble again, his heart clenching as you squeezed your eyes shut. You turned your face into his stomach, shoulders trembling, and he rested his hand on your head. Why didn’t you get that it wasn’t normal to cry when you realized you’re in love with someone? He didn’t even want to longer on the fact that you felt like you were in love with Rafe, too disgusted.

When he decided to get up, he realized that you’d quieted. Your soft breathing reached his ears, and he realized you were asleep. You didn’t even stir when he stood, curled up on the couch as he grabbed the empty bottles, making a mental note to replace what you’d drank. He leaned against the counter, staring you down and deeply swallowing.

You were in deeper than he realized, and his nails dug into his palms.

He hated that all of this was because of Rafe, hated that he’d driven you to this. Maybe it wasn’t right to think that if you were with him, you wouldn’t be going through this, but JJ didn’t care. It was the truth. He would never put your life in danger, and you wouldn’t have to muster up the courage to make some grand speech that you two were dating. You wouldn’t have to go around begging the rest of your friends to accept him.

He angrily exhaled, forcing himself to calm down. He needed to get you home, anyway. He didn’t know where his dad was, and that meant he didn’t know when he’d decide to grace JJ with his presence. He could be gone for another day or another hour.

When he shook you, you didn’t stir, and he was forced to admit that you probably drank more than you should have. You were practically dead to the world when he called your name, frown deepening when he called you again with no answer.

JJ sat down at your feet, looking over you and feeling his shoulders sag. Even in your sleep, you wore the brunt of your problems with Rafe on your face. Lips pursed, face scrunched, and breathing shaky. He reached out, fingers grazing your cheek and wondering to himself if you’d ever realize it didn’t have to be this way.

Relationships weren’t supposed to be this hard.

His thumb brushed along the underside of your jaw, JJ swallowing as it danced down your throat. JJ’s eyes fell to your chest, watching the way it rose and fell with your breathing, and he swallowed, feeling his skin grow hot. He was reminded of that girl from a few weeks ago, how she’d been naked and so needy for him…and he’d felt nothing in comparison to what he felt now.

JJ liked to blame it on the alcohol.

No, he hadn’t had as much as you, but he’d had some. It clouded his judgment, lowered his inhibitions, so it was easy to blame his dad’s liquor. It was easy to look back and say he hadn’t been in his right mind, the alcohol in his blood skewing his perception of right and wrong, but there was a small voice that told him it was all him.

The alcohol wasn’t to blame as his fingers pressed into your leg, hand dancing along your skin and heart in his throat at the feel. It was hot today, so hot, and before where you used to wear nothing but shorts, you’d adopted skirts and dresses too. Probably for Rafe, he bitterly thought.

You were almost always cold, your skin reflecting that, but the combination of the high temperature and alcohol had made you feel so much warmer than you normally were. JJ’s thumb grazed your thigh, and he released a shaky breath, feeling almost possessed as he watched his fingers dip between your legs.

You were dead to the world.

No protests or noises left you when his hand traveled further, his hand warmer now as your thighs surrounded it. He was holding his breath, tunnel vision clouding his mind as his fingers sought out what his mind had been subconsciously craving for months. It wasn’t right, he knew that, but it was like he couldn’t stop, finally exhaling when his fingers grazed over you.

JJ moved closer, swallowing and lashes fluttering as he gently rubbed his fingers over you, tongue darting out to lick his lips. You were so soft and warm, and when he glanced at your face, your expression had evened some. Your frown wasn’t as deep, and your lips parted in time with JJ’s. He briefly closed his eyes, swallowing and telling himself that he needed to stop.

…but the truth was that he didn’t want to.

When he pushed your underwear to the side, JJ audibly gasped, eyes closing when he dipped a finger into you. Everything after seemed to happen so fast, his mind going blank as he practically hovered over you now, curling a finger into you and groaning at the way you gripped him. He looked at your face again, watching all of the tension leaving as he slowly thrust the appendage into you.

When he added another, he hissed, his other arm shaking as his hand gripped the back of the couch. You made a noise, relief filling JJ as he realized you weren’t stirring…just enjoying it. It was an almost inaudible moan, but it went straight to JJ’s cock, pants feeling tighter and arms straining. The more he dragged his fingers in and out of you, the wetter you became, making a mess on his hand and between your thighs.

Maybe Ward was right to think you messed with Rafe’s head…because you were messing with his too.

JJ gritted his teeth, breathing choppy as he stretched you out, dipping his fingers into you and massaging your walls. You moaned again, louder this time and hips bucking, making JJ’s head spin. He moved closer, forehead grazing yours while he fingered you, deeply inhaling and basking in the feel of you clenching down on him.

You were so tight and so warm and so wet.

His mind only had one goal at the moment and that was making you come. He wanted to know what it felt like when you completely let go, body convulsing and trembling during your high. He hadn’t seen it, hadn’t stayed to witness it that morning, hurrying out of your house with denial on the brain. He wanted to see it, now though, feel it.

Your breath was hitching, and his face pressed into the crook of your neck, his own breathing picking up as your hips lifted slightly. You were close, he could tell, and he leaned back, sitting up on his knees and gaze falling to where you were wrapped around his fingers. He was glued to the sight, watching you drip around him, and when you did come, he didn’t know where to look.

Your mouth fell open, a high pitched sigh escaping and making his heart flutter, all of the tension disappearing from your features. JJ could’ve kept staring at your face the whole time, but he was too distracted by the sight of you coming on his hand. The wet sound of him fucking his fingers into you was addicting, and it was only when you stopped fluttering around him did his heart slow.

The ringing in his ears stopped, and the warmth on his skin disappeared, leaving only a cold feeling.

He pulled his fingers out of you, backing away and standing on shaky legs. He stared down at you with wide eyes, the full weight of what he’d done just hitting him. Turning away, JJ closed his eyes, pressing his fists to them and thinking how wrong it was what he’d just done, but the worst part of it all was that he didn’t hate it.

His softening cock, an effect of ruining his pants, was proof of that.

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