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dambaepuff · 1 day

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hey hi, could i make a request? Im happy to see another good author starting :) u also seem very nice. could i request a yoongi x preferably fem!reader? if you want you can make it a genderneutral fic. my idea was a scenario were one of them is jealous, i thought of it being her jealous of him, over something stupid, but not in a toxic way like yk just pure jealusy mixed with insecurities. And they have a little petty argument and like it ends with smut i mean they make up to eachother that way :P like smut mixed with fluff at its purest. also, i am really curious to see how u write yoongi, i see many authors making him cold and tough but i believe that he is a very caring softie haha, by the morning wood headcanons, i think you got him very well ;) thank u in advance

REGRETS (m)

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x FEM!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut, one shot, request, established relationship

Warnings: jealousy, insecurities, a petty argument, depictions of sex, crying, emotional, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, bodily fluids, penetration (vaginal), a bit of praise, light biting, squirting

Word count: 5k

Summary: uhhh idk dude just read the request that’s pretty much it

A/N: UGH I LOVE THIS IDEA!! I don’t have much experience with writing angst so this was a really nice exercise. Thank you sooo so much for all the kind words, it’s what keeps me writing. I’m also a sucker for soft Yoongi so this is right up my alley. (Also this is not proofread so lmk if there’s any mistakes or anything)

Thursday night, it’s quiet outside. You’re trying to watch a movie with Yoongi. Key word trying. His hand has been gently rubbing your thigh for a few minutes now, whenever he tries sliding it up to tease you, you grab it and put it back onto his lap. He’s clearly trying to get you heated, but it’s having quite the opposite effect. Lately you’ve felt quite out of it, your lack of confidence causing you to avoid intimacy. With Yoongi being the gentleman he is, he always accepts it when he realizes you’re not in the mood and he moves on. However, you’re starting to doubt his ability to keep going like this. What if he realizes you aren’t satisfactory to him anymore? He could easily find someone else who would be all over him in seconds.

Replaceable. That’s how you’ve been feeling lately. He could have anyone he wants, so why you? “Are you not feeling it tonight?” Yoongi’s voice startles you out of your thoughts. “Huh? Oh. No I’m sorry.” You respond, your voice growing quieter with the end of the sentence. “That’s okay, c’mere.” He mumbles before pulling you into his chest, his hand soothing down your back.

‘Will he stay with me if I keep pushing him away like this?’ Is what you keep asking yourself. On one hand you’re afraid he’ll stop loving you if you stop showing him affection. And on the other hand, you’ve been so self conscious lately about your body and if you’re doing things right you don’t know if it’s worse to ruin the relationship by pushing him away or by not being good enough. ‘Do I even deserve to be with him at this point?’

Friday, 4:37PM. You got off work early today so you decided to stop by Yoongi’s studio. He’s still working so you’re lounging around on one of the couches inside of the room. The two of you had made plans to get dinner together when he finishes up for the day which you’re really looking forward to.

A short blurry figure appears at the studio door, they raise their hand up and place three quiet knocks onto the glass. Yoongi gets up with a huff and opens the door. In front of him stands a familiar woman, you can’t quite remember her name, but you’ve seen her around the company building before.

“Here’s your coffee Suga!” She says in a cheery tone. Her eyes land on you and her smile falls a bit. “Oh, I didn’t know you would be here. Sorry I didn’t get you anything.” She apologizes with a light bow of her head. You dismiss her with a wave of your hand before going back to fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. She turns her attention back to Yoongi who is setting his drink down onto his desk. “Hey Suga, a few of us are going to that barbecue place down the street for dinner and drinks tonight. Do you guys wanna come with?” She asks with a tilt of her head, her long black hair swaying with the movement.

“Uhh, yeah?” He looks at you quickly for confirmation to which you nod your head lightly. “Yeah. Sure we’ll come.”

Yoongi continues chatting with the girl. She casually leans against the door frame, the conversation between them flowing oh so easily. ‘It took me ages to be able to talk to him that smoothly. Why couldn’t I be like her?’ You think to yourself, trying your best to not let your irritation show.

He bids her farewell and sits back down at his desk. For the remaining time you spend in his studio all you can look at is him. Your gaze burns holes into his side profile, tracing each curve of his features over and over again. Why would a man whose heart only knows kindness, whose eyes and soul are so understanding of everything be with you? Your being is rotten with unforgiving bitterness, you seethe at every imperfection like a nun enraged by sin. Why would he want you?

He’s like a wild flower. He needs to be pollinated by the love and kindness of a bee to bloom, yet he stays with you, a caterpillar feeding off of him, biting off his flesh for your gain. Eating away at him and leaving nothing. Maybe you aren’t even a caterpillar. They can eventually turn into a beautiful creature with wings of eyeful colors, yet you can’t become anything more than what you are. You’re stuck in a vicious cycle, devouring every resource without paying any mind to the fact there will be nothing left when you’re done. What does he get for loving you if you can’t be of use? You can’t make him bloom.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” You snap out of your thoughts, the reality around you giving you whiplash. Yoongi is kneeling in front of you, holding your jacket out. “Let’s go, we’ll be late.” You try to take it from his hands, but instead of giving it to you he holds it up so you can slip your arms inside. Once it’s on you he turns you around and zips it up for you. “Okay, let’s go.”

As you’re walking down the long hallways towards the elevators, Yoongi notices something odd. You usually grab onto his hand the moment you start walking somewhere together, but your hand is tucked away in your pocket now. He gently pulls it out and intertwines your fingers together. You can’t bring yourself to grip onto him like usual, instead you limply keep your hand at your side, letting him hold it. He’s a bit confused by this, but nevertheless he keeps holding you, his grasp only growing tighter in an effort to reassure you.

Yang Sunhee. Her name popped up in your head the moment she sat down across from you and Yoongi at the long wooden table. She’s been leading the conversation at your part of the table for a while now, mostly talking to Yoongi. To her credit she has tried to include you into the conversation a few times, but you didn’t really give her much to work with so she gave up.

You’ve been pushing your food around your plate for a while now. It’s mostly pieces of meat Yoongi placed down onto it for you, your favorite in fact. You just can’t get yourself to even place anything into your mouth, anxiety squeezing your throat so tightly you can barely even swallow your own saliva.

Sunhee is laughing at something, her eyes bright and her large smile hidden away behind a polite hand. Yoongi is laughing too, maybe not as hard as her, but he’s still laughing. ‘Why am I not the one making him laugh right now? Am I not funny anymore?’

As you’re glaring down at your food you feel a warm hand make contact with your shoulder. “You wanna go home?” Yoongi asks quietly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Yes please.” You breathe out, barely audible. On the drive home Yoongi tries asking what’s wrong multiple times, but all he gets in response is a simple “I just don’t feel too well.”

It’s been a few days now since you had dinner with Yoongi’s coworkers. He realized something was wrong so he’s been giving you some space. To be quite honest you aren’t sure if the space is helping or making it worse. After spending the whole day quietly sobbing to yourself in bed you decide to see what he’s up to. You find him sitting in the living room watching some sort of documentary and looking like he’s about to fall asleep. One of his cheeks is squished against a pillow and his hair is going on all the wrong directions. He looks adorable, your heart almost breaks in two knowing this is who you’ve been pushing away lately.

Taking a seat next to him, he lifts up his blanket so you can use it too. Just as you’re getting sleepy as well his phone pings on the coffee table. Instinctively you reach down for it so you can hand it to him, but when you see the contact name annoyance squeezes at your chest.

Yang Sunhee

Sent a message

“Why is she texting you?” The question slips from your mouth before you can even think it through. “I don’t know, let me see.” He responds while extending his hand out for the phone. You peer over at the screen, shamelessly trying to see what she sent. “Ah it’s just the schedule for next week.” He says and likes the message before setting his phone back down. Now you feel a bit guilty. Why were you questioning the intentions of this woman? She’s his employee after all.

Yoongi’s large hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb gently gliding over your cheekbone. “I know that look, what’s wrong baby?” He asks, his dark eyes skimming your face in search for answers. “It’s nothing.” You respond a bit too quickly, your tone stiff. The corner of Yoongi’s lip quirks up. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

Your eyes shoot open, “N-no!” you sputter out a weak defense. His hand slides down to your chin, the grip tightening a bit. His smirk spreads into a smile which angers you. He thinks this is funny?

“Don’t fucking touch me right now.” You say in a way harsher manner than you intended, tearing his hand away from your face. A flash of hurt runs over Yoongi’s face, his smile instantly falling. “Don’t look at me like that! I just- I need a moment right now.” You say in an apologetic tone. “You need a moment? I’ve been giving you a moment for days now. What about me? I keep trying so hard and you don’t show an ounce of being grateful. What’s your problem?” His tone gets louder as he talks, anger evident in his facial expressions.

“Problem? Oh it’s a problem now that I can’t always feel one hundred percent happy? Go sleep with some happy drugged out whore then if that’s what you want!” Without realizing it your tone has risen to a yell, you’re standing now, no longer in the comfort of warm blankets on the couch. “Don’t yell at me!” He yells back, tears beginning to brim his eyes.

“You’re yelling too asshole! Oh you’re gonna cry? Go cry to Sunhee, maybe she can suck your dick to make it better if you can’t go a week without me sucking it!” The moment you finish the last sentence a silence falls over the apartment. Yoongi stares at you wide eyed, unable to form a single sentence.

He looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes watery and his hands trembling. Realizing you went to far the only thing that pops up in your head is leaving the apartment for a bit. You speed walk to the front door, tugging your shoes on quickly and pulling a random jacket on. “Hey, hey! Where are you going?” Yoongi follows you once he realizes what you’re doing. Unable to look at his face you grab your keys and walk out, slamming the door behind you.

Not knowing where to go you walk to the nearest park. Taking a seat on one of the benches you stare up at the moon. “Why did I say that?” You mumble to yourself, tears stinging at your eyes. Your throat contracts, guilt choking you. There’s no holding back now, you let your sobs loose, tears running down your face uncontrollably.

“(Y/N)? Is that you?” A soft voice calls out to your right. Your head shoots up, trying to find the source of the sound. There stands Sunhee, she seems to be in her pajamas with a puffer jacket thrown on top. Her hair is a mess and she’s holding a leash. A little white dog sniffs around near her legs, you assume it’s her’s.

“What’s wrong?” She asks as she sits down next to you. “Ah don’t worry about it.” You mumble, sniffling lightly. “You’re so pretty (Y/N), I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look good while they cry before.” Sunhee says with a genuine smile. “I- uh what?” You tilt your head to the side in confusion. “If I didn’t have a girlfriend I’d be jealous of Suga for having a girlfriend as pretty as you.” She giggles lightly.

“WHAT?” The question comes out harsher than you intend, the whole situation confusing you. “Listen, if you ever leave Suga just give me a call.” She says with a playful wink. You laugh in disbelief, your tears completely gone now. “You’re funny Sunhee.” You say, still sniffling lightly. “I’m not joking, but thank you.” She giggles along with you.

“Now why are you outside so late?” She asks while pulling her dog up into her lap. “I had a fight with Yoongi, I didn’t really know where else to go. I’m kind of scared to face him right now.” You answer truthfully. “Girl, have you seen how he looks at you? That man is a goner, I’m sure whatever you argued about isn’t that bad. You should go home and apologize, you can talk it through.” She says while giving you an encouraging smile. “You think so?” You ask quietly. “I know so.”

Even with Sunhee’s encouragement you’re still unsure. Guilt wracks through your whole body, pressing down on your insides and making you nauseous. You try to be as quiet as possible when you enter the apartment, but the sound of the heavy front door closing and jingling of keys betrays you. Just as you’re taking your shoes off you hear shuffling down the hallway. Yoongi’s dark figure emerges, you’re ready to hear something nasty from him, but instead you’re met with two warm arms wrapped around you.

“Thank god you’re safe.” He mumbles before kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry Yoongi, I’m so sorry baby. Please don’t leave me. I didn’t-“ you’re cut off by a hiccup, your tears returning. “I didn’t mean to say any of that. Please, please don’t leave me I’ll never do that again…” You sob into his chest. “Shhhhh, I know you didn’t mean it, I should’ve done some things differently too.” His hand softly pets your head.

“I’ve been trying to figure out why you’ve been acting so weird lately and I think I get it now. You look at her like she killed your dog. You know she’s a lesbian right?” You can’t help but laugh a bit at that. “Yeah I kind of found that out just now.” You mumble, your fingers tangling into the material of his shirt. “Why don’t you like her?” You can feel him softly smile against your hair as he asks the question.

“I don’t know I just-“ You try to form the right words, but they won’t come. “Ugh! She’s just so pretty and she’s really open, it feels like she’s perfect and has everything you could need and I’m just sort of me? I don’t know, it’s stupid. I’m just projecting.” Yoongi listens intently to everything you say while he takes your jacket off. “Lately I’ve felt like the shell of who I was when you met me, you know? I’m just sort of bleh- and every other woman around me seems to have her shit togehter.” A tear runs down your cheek and Yoongi chases it away with his thumb.

“It’s why I’ve been avoiding having sex lately. I just feel gross and ugly while you… you look like you were sculpted by the ancient Greeks. You need a Hera to your Zeus. I’m like a satyr or something!” You let out a bitter laugh, trying to mask your feelings. “Hmm I think we’re more like Orpheus and Eurydice. Except I don’t want to lose you the way he lost her. They were such perfect lovers, yet there was something tragic about them. What’s love without tragedy?” He softly spoke, continuing to wipe your tears. You let out a genuine laugh and hit his chest lightly. “You idiot! You don’t get it.”

“I think I at least partially get it. I mean hell you make my knees weak whenever you look me in the eye woman, and we’ve been dating for years! I’d go to the pits of hell for you a million times more than Orpheus if it meant having a bit more time to spend with you. There’s no other person that could fulfill your role in my life as well as you do. I love you for you, you’re my muse. My light.” He places a ginger peck onto your forehead.

Love and desire suddenly flood through you, grabbing the collar of his shirt you pull him into a rough kiss. A few more tears make their way past your eyelids, but these ones of relief and joy rather than sadness and frustration. Yoongi gladly accepts your advances, kissing you back firmly. He barely wastes any time trying to get his tongue intertwined with yours. Your interwoven muscles becoming a metaphor for your souls combining together, the act of physical intimacy projecting your consciousness into one being, content and whole.

One of your hands shoot up to grip his hair a bit tighter than necessary which makes him release a deep moan. He pants against your lips, trying to catch his breath, but unable to fully separate your bodies. As he had endured yearning for you such a torturous amount, how could he let you go now?

He presses you flat against the door, holding you down chest to chest. His cold hands slide up your shirt, the contrast of temperature making you shiver. Caressing the skin of your stomach so lightly it tickles, he snakes one of his hands behind your back, swiftly unclipping your bralette in one movement. You let it drop to the floor, the only thing on your mind right now being the feeling of his body on yours. With his hands lightly ghosting over your breasts now, you shudder each time one of his fingers brushed against your nipples. Slowly he pulls your shirt off, the cold night air bites at your skin making your nipples harden. Instinctively your arms shoot up to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. He firmly grips your wrists and pins them down above your head.

Now fully exposed to him, he looks you in the eyes before licking a fat stripe from the area between your breasts to your neck. Lightly blowing onto the wet part of your skin, you take in a deep breath from the sensation. He begins to trail kisses down to your chest, letting go of your hands so he can bring you as close to him as possible. You tug at his hair softly as he mouthes at ode of your breasts, his tongue lightly teasing the soft bud. He groans softly before kissing down lower so he can get onto his knees.

He kneels before you know, unashamed of the submissive position he’s in. His teeth occasionally graze your stomach between sloppy open mouthed kisses. Looking up at you through his lashes, Yoongi starts undoing your pants. He pushes them down as if they’re getting in the way and moves his kisses down to your thighs. His uncalculated mouth moves dangerously close to your clothed cunt. Hovering over it he purposefully breathes through his mouth so you can feel his warm breath on your skin. You gasp when he suddenly pressed his nose against your pussy and inhales deeply. You can peel the tips of your ears heating up from embarrassment, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Ugh, fuck how I missed this part of you.” He groans as he kisses over the thin fabric. Finding your clit almost immediately he starts to roll his tongue against it through your panties. Your arousal and his saliva mix together in the material causing an uncomfortable need for real contact.

“Yoongi, take it off already…” you whisper to him, brushing his bangs out of his face. Looking up at you with a cheeky smirk he grabs onto the hem of your underwear with his teeth, making sure to lightly graze your sensitive skin with them as he pulls down. Your panties don’t even have the chance to reach the floor and his mouth is already on you again. He runs his tongue through your folds, making you instinctively angle your hips to give him more access. Heedlessly circling your clit with his tongue, he occasionally sucks on it or flicks it. You’re unsure if his mouth is glistening from his own saliva or from your wetness, but the sloppy noises he’s making are causing you to involuntarily buck your hips into his mouth.

“You’re so beautiful like this, my sweet girl.” He mumbles as he pulls away, nuzzling his head into your thigh. Replacing his tongue with his fingers, you let out a quiet moan when he slips them inside of you. “I love having you like this, only for me to see. You know I’d never do this for anyone else, right?” He emphasizes the question by pressing his fingers down against your sweet spot. ”Shit, Yoongi. I love you so much, no one makes me cum like you do.” Your response comes out in a dragged out whine.

Satisfied with your reply his mouth returns to your clit while his fingers work you open. The combination of sensations makes an orgasm built up in your abdomen fast. “Yoon- Yoongi, I’m gonna ah- I’m gonna cum!” You moan out, trying to warn him. This only encourages him to go faster as an orgasm ripples through you in harsh waves, your head falling back against the door as your eyes roll into the back of your head. You spasm slightly as he continues to work your cunt, trying to pull him away so he doesn’t overstimulate you.

He licks off your juices from his fingers, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. As soon as he’s back on his feet you go in for a kiss, leaning on him for support while still coming down from your high. He refuses to let your lips part as he leads you to the bedroom, his shirt and pants getting lost along the way.

“Lay down baby.” He mumbled against your lips as he led you to the bed. Kneeling down between your legs he made sure you were comfortable on your pillow. No matter how basic, missionary was always the best when you needed to express your love sexually. Parting your lips he pulls you down a little so your thighs are pressed together. He grabs his erect cock out of his underwear, not even bothering to get rid of the boxers. Pumping it a few times he gives you a dopey look, a lazy smirk spreading on his face.

“You ready?” He rasps out, rubbing the tip of his cock against your swollen clit, mixing his precum together with the aftermath of your previous orgasm. “A little too ready.” You replied, running a hand through your hair. “Mmm I can tell.” He teases while spreading the natural lubricant over his cock. Slowly he pressed the tip in, “Fuck, it’s going in so easily, o barely had to prep you. You really want it, don’t you?” his brows crease together in pleasure as he slowly bottoms out. “Yes, fuck Yoongi I want your cock so bad.” Your hand shoots up to grab onto his shoulder, biting your lip at the fullness.

“Please, (Y/N). Can I move?” He murmured, holding onto your hips tightly. “Yes, fuck me Yoongi.” You replied, grabbing his face to place a wet kiss onto his lips. He let out a low moan as he started thrusting into you, the warmth and wetness of your cunt feeling better each time he fucked it. You lightly squeezed your walls on purpose knowing it drives him crazy. “Oh my- ah shit I won’t last long at all if you do that.” He said breathily, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. You hooked one of your legs onto his hips, pulling him forward so he’s pressed into your cunt as deeply as possible. The both of you groaned at that, as soon as you let go he started thrusting into you with a quicker pace. His movements rapidly increased with each slap of skin that echoed throughout the space, his head thrown back. That look on his face means he’s absolutely lost in please and that makes you proud. He molds so perfectly inside you it makes all of your doubts melt away, it’s like he was made for you.

Matching the pace of his thrust to his fingers flicking your clit, Yoongi can swear he can feel you pulsating around him. “Ah, fuck (Y/N) I think I’m gonna cum already. Shit I’m sorry it just feels too good.” He groans, the already pink tips of his ears darkening. “It’s okay, go ahead baby, cum inside me.” You breathily respond, continuing to moan with each of his thrusts. He speeds up before abruptly stopping, the feeling of his warm seed filling you up making you clench around his cock. “Wait, shit, shit run my pussy please I’m so close too.” His fingers immediately speed up on your clit, furiously flicking it as your abdomen tightens again. As the hot white pleasure rips through your whole body, making your muscles spasm you hear a wet noise. Looking down the moment you can open your eyes you see Yoongi’s lower stomach covered in a clear liquid.

“Did you just make me squirt?” You laugh in disbelief. “That’s a first.” He mumbles before pulling his cock out, various liquids gliding down your ass. “I’ll go get a towel. He quickly gets up, trying his best not to make any of his surroundings wet.

As the two of you are laying in bed, your warm baked bodies pressed together, you feel Yoongi’s chest vibrate as he speaks up. “From now on, you always have to tell me when something’s bothering you, okay?” He softly says, stroking your hair. “Okay.” You whisper back. “Promise?” He questions while raising his pinky finger up, you lock yours with his, pressing your thumbs together. “Promise.”

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts x fem!reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts x you #bts smut #bts angst #suga x reader #suga x y/n #suga x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #bts x y/n #bts x female reader

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silovsmenot · 2 days

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This or That | Artūrs Šilovs

Request by anon...

silovs is a media darling. how about something with him and social media admin, like they're trying to get him to do a tiktok or something for the fans and he's just nervous around them

WARNINGS: None at all, as usual, it's 1000% complete fluff. PAIRING: Artūrs Šilovs x reader. NOTES: I absolutely adored this request, and I will never get tired of writing for Arty. WORD COUNT: 1306

As far as jobs go, you were pretty sure that you’d hit the jackpot. The social media admin for the Vancouver Canucks, with pretty much free reign on what you wanted to do. Your job was to get the team trending, to keep the community talking and to make the boys seem ‘real’.

These players were, for intensive purposes, celebrities in Vancouver. If they were spotted on the street, management wanted people to see them as approachable and friendly. It was a good marketing tactic, and you were rolling with it.

The team had so many young guys that it was easy for the most part — they were all ready and willing to get in front of the camera, and do stupid things for the trends. You were having a great time with it. Even some of the older guys were getting into it.

But there was one who was a little more reserved and had, until now, evaded you. You’d exchanged words in passing, you knew the other existed, but he finished training and left without word most days. He kept to himself, and while that was fine for a while, management wanted him to be included.

Artūrs Šilovs couldn’t escape the camera forever.

And today was the day that you were going to get him — you weren’t unfair, you’d find something together that he’d be willing to do. It was never your intention to make any of the guys uncomfortable.

Completely on queue, you saw his head ducking out of the changing rooms with eyes on the nearest door. But there would be no escape from the social media admin today.

“Artūrs!” You shouted, jogging up behind him with a growing smile at your lips. He turned quickly; the Vancouver cap backwards as messy strands of brown hair escaped through the hole. And, as he normally did post training, his glasses rested upon the bridge of his nose.

You’d told yourself when you got this job, no dating players, but he was cute and you could be tempted to break your own rule.

“Sorry, if you’re not busy, would you mind helping me with something?”

You phrased it carefully, knowing he was more likely to turn around and say yes if you said it was to help. And it was to help both of you. As expected, he did nod — he turned on his heels and was ready to follow you.

You both found yourselves smiling at the other, he was full of nerves as you began to walk back into the corridor and he didn’t quite know what to say to you. There were things he was thinking about saying, like how he was thankful that you had been a friendly face to him since he was called up to the Canucks, or how he would’ve liked to spend some time with you, but far from a camera.

Whatever he was thinking as you led him toward the little media room, he didn’t say any of it. Arty just followed with hands buried in his pockets, fiddling with threads with nerves and a small smile upon his lips.

He opened the door before you could reach, holding it wide open for you to enter as you’d say a quiet thank you. With the door closed, it was impossible to not focus on how nervous he so clearly was.

You simply found yourself staring at him for a brief moment, trying to find the words to say that would put his mind at ease.

“Art, I’m not going to ask you to do something that you’re not comfortable with…” You quietly said with a few short steps toward him. “I have an idea and if you’re not happy with it, we don’t do it.”

His brown eyes had been fixated with since you called him that corridor and they made no signs of wavering from you. He was uncomfortable in front of that camera, but it was just nerves with you, and he couldn’t figure out why. He’d grown used to so many people over the last few weeks in Vancouver, but you stood out. You made him smile without a word and while he knew you’d only talk to him to get him in front of that camera, he wanted you to talk to him. It was all quite confusing in his head, but pushing through it all, he’d simply nod in response to you.

A quiet, sheepish ‘okay’ coming from his lips.

And so, you began to explain your idea, and it was simple. An easy ‘this or that’, with things from Canada vs back in home of Latvia. It would take a little work to find a comparison, or as near as you could both get, but it was a way for him to reveal a little bit of home to the Canuck fanbase.

“I like the idea… Let’s do it.” Artūrs finally said as you finished your explanation, taking a moment to dramatically gasp for air after you’d talked non-stop for a couple of minutes. You couldn’t help the triumphant nod that you gave at his answer, the smile spread across your features from ear to ear. A smile that quickly caught upon his own lips.

All it took was a piece of paper, five minutes to sort the ‘this or that’ options and you were both ready. His steps were hesitant as they bought in before the green screen, the little camera now upon him.

“First one is nice and simple, your left is Rīga and your right is Vancouver — your favourite city is …?” And you paused. He’d told you that his answer was Vancouver, but he stepped to his left which caused a quiet laugh to part your lips.

He stared at you, pinkening in the cheeks, for a moment as he tried to figure out what he’d done. Once he did, he took two quick steps to his right with hands waving in apology.

“Arty, you can calm down. We’re no rush with this, just think about it and take your time.” Your voice was soft; reassuring and genuine, and it worked. He stopped staring awkwardly at the camera, and simply found your gaze yet again. And there? He felt more comfortable.

Now you had to stand directly behind the camera to make it work, but it did work from there. He kept your gaze, and with clammy hands from nerves, he made the right steps each time. Another five minutes later and you were done. It all needed throwing together for a video to post, but you had what you needed … and there was a hidden, but shared, disappointment in that. He thought about making a few more mistakes to stay longer, and you thought about asking just a few more unnecessary questions to keep him there.

Neither of you made your excuse to stay as you were both nervous. You walked him to the door of the media suite with a melancholy weight upon your shoulders, leaning against the door frame as he’d linger just beyond.

“This wasn’t too bad, was it?” You asked with a slightly teasing tone, just enough to make him smile again. And he did smile, he smiled wide and nodded his head as he removed the cap and messed at his hair with his free hand.

“It was almost fun.” He quickly said, and you felt the slight fluttering in your stomach. “Just let me know if you need me again, at any point.”

That only serve to make the fluttering more unruly. Your mouth dry in surprise as you were simply forced to nod your head. You didn’t take your eyes off him until he was nearly out of sight, and you just missed the sight of him turning back to catch a final glimpse of you.

#my baby goalie #arturs silovs #silovs #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl oneshot #arturs silovs x reader #nhl x reader #arturs silovs x y/n #nhl blurb #hockey imagine #you just know he's a wholesome bean #he'd be an amazing boyfriend #silovsmenotwrites

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kokoch4n3l · 14 hours

Text

˗ˏˋ art deco ࿐ྂ "you're not mean, you're just born to be seen"

summary: kokonoi hajime unwillingly has front-row seats to sano "mikey" manjiro's descent into darkness and now he unknowingly watches the start of a new obsession with something a lot prettier that owns one too many mini skirts

pairing(s): kanto!mikey x f!reader

notes: told through koko's eyes and the beginning of yandere!mikey and pre-bonten. heart divider by cafekitsune

warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of weapons, mentions of murder, implied mental health issues, slight bimbo!reader, suggestive themes, mentioned voyeurism, obsession, future yandere(?), not edited we die like my potential

word count: 1690

Sano “Mikey” Manjiro was no longer the man he used to be. Perhaps after killing a bunch of people, part of him had gone numb. Or maybe most of him. He doesn’t feel the same way anymore and it’s clear to everyone around him. His black Toman jacket had been long changed to white and he’s got an appointment with a tattoo artist soon. Kokonoi wonders when it will be his turn to get tattooed next. He wonders when the matching jackets will be changed to suits and their flimsy pipes and bats will be replaced with guns. Kokonoi isn’t sure if he’s looking forward to it or not. Many things have changed quickly and so has Mikey.

Kokonoi Hajime accidentally got front-row seats to Sano “Mikey” Manjiro’s plunge into darkness and it’s not something very fun to watch especially since nothing he does can get the latter out of it. It was almost like Mikey wanted to burn. Like he enjoyed it. Kokonoi Hajime glanced up from his laptop, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his tired eyes. The rain outside pelted the floor-to-ceiling windows, a rhythmic drumming that filled the otherwise silent penthouse. Mikey stood motionless, staring out into the storm as if it held answers to the questions he never voiced. Kokonoi had grown used to this silence, the heavy, unspoken tension that seemed to hang over them like a dark cloud. “Mikey— Oh hi Koko!”

Maybe the only thing stopping Mikey from fully going crazy was you and your damn mini-skirt. You twirl into the room with that infectious energy of yours, your sneakers tapping against the marble floor. The rain pattering against the windows is almost drowned out by your cheerful presence. You greet Kokonoi with a bright smile, your eyes sparkling with a naivety that seems out of place in the world of the Kanto Manji Gang— in Sano “Mikey” Manjiro’s world. “Hi Koko!” you repeat, a playful lilt in your voice

Kokonoi can’t help but crack a small smile at your enthusiasm, the glitter in the inner corners of your eyes shining under the artificial light. You always manage to bring a bit of light into these dark times, even if you don’t fully understand the shadows lurking around you. Mikey, however, doesn’t move. His gaze remains fixed on the storm outside, his reflection a ghostly figure in the glass. Kokonoi watches him, the unease gnawing at him. Mikey's transformation from the once lively, mischievous leader of Tokyo Manji Gang to this silent, brooding figure of Kanto Manji Gang is unsettling. You flounce over to Mikey, your hips swaying with each step. You wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your cheek against his back. “Mikey, come on. You promised we’d watch a movie tonight” you whine, trying to coax him away from the window, glossy lips shifting into a pout

Mikey finally shifts, his shoulders relaxing slightly at your touch. He turns around, and for a moment, Kokonoi catches a glimpse of the old Mikey in the way his dark eyes soften when he looks at you. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” he says, his voice a low rumble.

Honestly speaking, in Kokonoi’s opinion, you were kind of a bimbo— in some sense that is. You were top of your class with the goal of getting into law school but here you were in a damn mini skirt, your bruised knees knocking against Sano Manjiro who is a literal fucking criminal. Maybe you have one of those weird fantasies of representing your criminal boyfriend in court. The problem with that though is you and Manjiro weren’t together. You were just a pretty distraction, someone who brought a flicker of life into Mikey’s darkened world, a role you played with such unknowing perfection that even Kokonoi found it admirable. The darkness that enveloped Mikey was thick, suffocating, but you… you seemed to be the only one who could penetrate it, if only slightly with your stupid mini skirt that hugged your hips and thighs so well. “Not feeling it?” You ask him innocently, the tips of your white sneakers knocking against his boots

Maybe you were a little stupid but other than academic smarts, you were emotionally smart too. You didn’t realize just who you were hanging around and what the penthouse you waltzed into was but you knew when Sano “Mikey” Manjiro wasn’t feeling well. Kokonoi admires that because he as well as the other top members of Kanto Manji Gang were yet to figure out Mikey’s emotions. “Not really” Mikey says, his fingers curl around your hip in an almost possessive manner, pulling you closer to him.

Kokonoi watches the exchange, feeling a pang of jealousy mixed with something he can't quite place. Maybe it's envy at your ability to reach Mikey in a way he can't, or perhaps it's frustration at Mikey's apparent detachment from everyone else. Kokonoi watches you wrap your arms around Mikey’s neck. The contrast between Mikey’s brooding presence and your bubbly aura is almost comical, like a scene from a twisted romantic comedy. Kokonoi can’t help but shake his head at the irony of it all. “What’s wrong, Mikey?” you ask softly, your voice laced with genuine worry.

Mikey’s gaze softens as he looks down at you, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone. “Nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

Kokonoi watches the exchange, feeling a twinge of envy mixed with a hint of admiration. Despite everything, Mikey still had the ability to care for someone, even if it was in his own twisted way. You pout slightly, not satisfied with his vague answer. “But I do worry about you, Mikey. You know that,” you insist, your well-manicured fingers intertwining with his bruised fingers.

A small, almost invisible smile tugs at the corners of Mikey’s lips. “I know, babe. And I appreciate it” he says, sincerity ringing in his voice.

He leans down to press a lingering kiss to your lips, a silent promise of reassurance. Kokonoi can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at the intimacy between you and Mikey. It’s not that he harbours any romantic feelings for Mikey himself, but rather he envies the connection you two share, a connection that seems to elude him in this world of darkness and violence. As you pull away from the kiss, a bright smile graces your lips once more. Your lip gloss is now transferred onto Mikey’s lips and he doesn’t seem to mind as he licks up the artificial taste, his eyes never leaving yours as he does. It was weird though— You and Mikey weren’t dating but you still kissed and cuddled and did other things like normal couples did. Mikey called you sweetheart, babe, baby, doll, angel and any other sweet endearment his tainted mind could think of but you both weren’t dating. You both aren’t dating but Kokonoi knows the bruises on your knees are from when Mikey’s got you on the floor between his legs and the scratches on Mikey’s back are from you being pinned beneath him. “I’ve been a little stressed though. Come help me out?” Mikey says to you, thumb rubbing away some of the lipgloss that smeared onto your chin when he kissed you

Kokonoi can imagine it clearly— you down on your knees on the hardwood floor in front of Mikey, your pretty eyes wide and watery with drool running down your chin and mascara smudged; your stupid mini skirt hiked up around your hips as Mikey made you take it. “Hm, m’kay” You answer a little too innocently for what Mikey was suggesting at

As Mikey guides you to another room in the penthouse, he looks over his shoulder. “Koko, make sure no one disturbs us”

“Got it boss” He answers, trying to sound as apathetic as possible

The lock on the door clicks and Kokonoi is already scrambling to find his headphones. He’s been a victim of getting hard off listening to your breathy moans and helpless whimpers too many times already and he’s still got work to do. Kokonoi wasn’t a huge fan of being a voyeur like the rest of the sickos and perverts Mikey let into Kanto Manji Gang after all. He barely gets his headphones in when he hears a breathy groan come from the other side of the locked door. He tries to focus on his work, to lose himself in the lines of code scrolling across the screen, but his mind keeps drifting back to the scene unfolding behind the locked door. He can almost picture it—the way you kneel before Mikey, your eyes wide with anticipation, your lips parted in a silent plea. He can hear the soft rustle of fabric as Mikey guides you, his voice low and commanding. It’s a scene that plays out in his mind with disturbing clarity, one that he wishes he could erase but finds himself unable to look away from.

Kokonoi Hajime unwillingly has front-row seats to Sano “Mikey” Manjiro’s descent into darkness. But it seems he’s watching an obsession grow as well.

An obsession that owns too many mini skirts and with a smile as bright as the sun.

Kokonoi wonders how long it will take for that obsession to grow into something unhealthy and something that starts to hurt you. But even as he wonders, a part of him knows that he’ll be there to witness it all. Because in this world of darkness and violence, there are few constants, and Kokonoi has unwittingly become one of them. So he continues to work, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he loses himself in the safety of his own little world, a world far removed from the chaos that surrounds him.

As the night wears on and the sounds from the other room grow louder, Kokonoi can’t help but feel a sense of resignation settle over him. Because in the end, he knows that you’re just as trapped as the rest of them, prisoners of their own making in a world where darkness reigns supreme.

#tokyo revengers #mikey sano #mikey x reader #sano mikey manjiro #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers fandom #tokyo revengers x reader #sano manjiro #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro sano #kanto manji gang #kanto mikey

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drudyslut · 6 hours

Text

BROKEN — J.M

— summary: JJ comforts you after Rafe hurts you yet again.

— CW: angsty af, reader has a panic attack, soft!jj, hurt to comfort (by jj rafe is no comfort in this), strong language.

— note: i have loved this song since i saw a Cassie Howard edit to it, and yeah.

You couldn’t remember exactly what had set Rafe off today, you knew you hadn’t done anything wrong, but then again, you never really ever did anything wrong.

Your boyfriend had a short temper, the smallest things could send him into a fit of rage and anger, and you almost always got it taken out on you.

Like every other time Rafe is set off, sending you into a panic attack, you rush out of Tannyhill, hoping in your car and rushing to the chateau. There was only one person who knew how to calm you down, and even though he was going to be furious that Rafe had put you in this position yet again, you knew he’d be there for you.

Within minutes, you’re quickly pulling into the gravel driveway of the chateau. You barely get your car in park before you’re pushing your door open, your knees hitting the unforgiving gravel. A loud scream pierces the air, your hand planted firmly on your chest as you try and calm your erratic breathing.

You knew you shouldn’t have drove here, you were teary eyed and struggling to breathe the entire way, but you had to get to JJ, and calling him wasn’t an option. He would have came to get you, but wouldn’t have left until he got some words in with Rafe first, and you couldn’t let that happen.

“J-J-JJ!” You shout, your hand still planted firmly on your chest.

The sound of the screen door creaking fills your ears, and your tear filled eyes look toward the front porch, barely making out the head of blond messy hair and tanned skin rushing toward you.

“What the fuck? Princess, are you okay?”

JJ’s voice is frantic and laced with worry as he scoops you up into his arms. He slowly carries you inside the chateau, walking straight past your group of friends — whose eyes are all on you — and straight into ‘his’ bedroom. He gently sits you on the bed, kicking the door shut behind him and kneeling in front of you.

You see the scowl on his face, and you already know what he’s thinking.

“I-I- Rafe…” you try and stutter the words out, but your erratic breathing, and tight chest make the words die on your tongue.

“I figured, he’s always makin’ you cry like this, princess. I can’t fuckin’ stand it. Please, please fuckin’ leave him!”

More tears stream down your face, and you lay yourself back on JJ’s mattress, curling your body into a ball and letting the sobs out.

“I’m so sick of him makin’ you feel like this, Y/N/N. You’re broken, and you need to leave him so you can allow yourself to be happy again. Do you understand me?”

Your breathing doesn’t calm, you feel like you’re seconds away from passing out. You don’t know what happened today, something with Ward, and Rafe being called worthless, and somehow it was your fault. He claimed you weren’t there for him enough, claimed you didn’t give a fuck about him and you made him miserable. When you started crying, begging him to let you comfort him, he’d lashed out even more. He was in your face, telling you to ‘grow up and stop fuckin’ crying’. You could usually handle his outbursts pretty well, knowing that it would subside soon, but today was different. When Rafe had harshly gripped your upper arms, shaking you while shouting harsh words and insults at you, you couldn’t take it. You had believed every mean thing he was saying, and you knew you needed to get out of there before things got worse.

When JJ notices you can’t breathe, your panic attack only getting worse, he quickly kicks his shoes off and climbs into the bed with you. He lays behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and squeezing tightly, rubbing his thumb against your arm and shushing you softly.

“Shhhh.. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m right here, princess. He isn’t here. He can’t hurt you with his words right now..”

JJ’s tight hold on your body mixed with the soft, gentle calming words he was whispering to you had you finally calming down. You felt your heart rate slow, your breathing calming and the tears slowing. JJ always knew how to calm you down, and he was always there for you. No matter how many times this happened — which was sadly quite often — he was always there to hold you and calm you down.

Once you had fully calmed, JJ spoke. “I know I tell you this every time, and I know you’ll leave when you’re ready, but you can’t keep letting him make you feel this way. You can’t keep letting him have this control over you and your emotions, you hear me?”

You nod your head softly. “I- I know.. It’s just.. I love him, J. I wish I didn’t, but I do. I know he can change, he can be better, he just… He hasn’t had it easy..”

You don’t miss the scoff JJ tried to subtly let out.

“Y/N… You have shown up here, broken and crying to the point of a panic attack ten times in the last two weeks. TWO. Not a month, not two months. TWO WEEKS. He is fuckin’ with your head, baby. He has done this all before, and I know you’re trying to tell yourself he’ll change, but people like Rafe Cameron don’t change. It’s the sad truth, but he won’t ever change. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

Deep down, you know JJ is right. Rafe has issues that he needs to seek professional help for, but he won’t, because getting help equals weakness, and weakness equals Ward coming down on him ten times harder than he already does. But you do love him, and you can’t fathom the thought of losing him. Living life without Rafe would be empty, lonely, heart shattering.

But instead of voicing all of that, you said, “I know you’re right, J. It’s just hard.. I love him, and I want to see him change, but I know you’re right.”

JJ sighs deeply, resting his forehead on your back and running his thumb up the length of your arm. “I know, sweet girl. I just hope you realize how special you are, and how you deserve the world, before it’s too late.”

Your heavy eyes blink slowly, your mind taking in everything JJ was saying. You let his words sink in, the last thing on your mind before your eyes finally closing as sleep claimed you.

JJ TAGLIST: @drewstarkeyslut @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @rafesthroatbaby @starkeysprincess @rafescurtainbangz @atorturedpoetx @redhead1180 @maybankskiss @lovelysturnioloos @maybankslover @simars3 @antagonize-me-motherfucker

jj maybank masterlist | taglist form

#jj maybank #obx jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank fic #jj x you #jj fic #jj maybank brainrot

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camaro-and-smokes · 2 days

Text

Get Out of My Dreams, Get Into My Car

Chapter 6: Have You Ever Needed Someone So Bad

Tags for the chapter: Mutual pining, some fluffy fluff in the very end

Notes: Moodboard by the lovely @a-redharlequin 💜 Title from the Def Leppard song 💜

Summary: Billy finally catches Steve who's been slipping through his fingers all week and sits him down for a talk. Later, Billy unsuccesfully tries to let go of Steve, and Steve figures out what he needs to do—even though it scares the shit out of him.

Read on AO3 >>

:::::::::::

It was on Friday morning when Billy finally caught Steve—quite literally—before he left for work. Or rather, before he once again slithered himself through Billy’s fingers like quicksand.

Billy was reading an article about new materials used for surfboards when Steve appeared in the doorway.

“Uh…morning. Have you, um, have you seen my shoes?” Steve asked, rubbing his neck, clearly uncomfortable.

Billy looked up from his article and took a sip of his coffee. “Maybe.”

Steve looked at him expectantly for a moment before he spread his hands questioningly. “So? Where are they?”

“I think we have to talk,” Billy said.

Steve sighed and chewed his cheek for a moment. “About what?”

“About…” Billy started, not knowing how he exactly should continue. “Well, about…things. Like, this week.”

Steve closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.

“Just humor me, okay?” Billy asked and pointed at the empty mug on the table he’d taken out just for Steve. “Sit down for one mug of coffee. Please?”

Steve glanced at the front door as if calculating the distance to it from his spot and if he could reach it before Billy would catch him. Then he looked at his watch, wincing, but finally he relented. He sat down while Billy poured the coffee into the mug and gave him the milk from the fridge. “One mug,” he muttered.

“Alright, I’m gonna make this blunt, then,” Billy said as he sat down. “Are you angry at me about something?” He paused, measuring Steve and trying to see if there was something that would give away Steve’s emotions.

Steve just sat there, still clenching his jaw and staring at his mug.

“Like, for example, me going on a date and you thinking you have to find a new place to stay?” Billy continued.

Steve shifted in his seat, but kept his eyes locked on the beige liquid in his mug. “Uh…no. I’m not angry about…anything.”

“Good,” Billy said quietly. “Because you don’t have to worry about that. I’m really not planning on moving in with anyone soon.”

Steve just nodded. After a while, he asked, “Was the date that bad?”

Billy snickered. “No. It was okay.”

Just as Billy was about to continue, Steve asked, “Planning on seeing him again?”

Billy thought about it. Yeah, the date with Jason had been nice. It was nice to have the attention, someone laugh at his stupid jokes, and Jason was a decent guy. But he wasn’t…there was something that wasn’t just right. “Well, he said he’d like to see me again, but we didn’t yet agree on anything since he’s busy. Maybe,” he shrugged. Yeah. Jason just was…not Steve.

Steve felt like crying, but he just nodded and took a sip of his mug. He’d tried to avoid Billy all week just to save himself from hearing that maybe. He was sure the guy was decent, Billy probably wouldn’t want to go on a second date with someone who wasn’t. Decency did nothing to Steve’s desire to kill the guy, though.

The few days that had passed since Billy’s date had been hard. Billy had seemed happy after the date. Singing in the shower that Def Leppard ballad that was on the radio 24/7—and also humming it while cooking.

Steve wanted to leave, get to work and forget this misery for at least the eight hours. But he’d promised to stay for one mug of coffee and he’d accidentally put too little milk on it so it was burning his mouth. So he had to suffer a little longer than he otherwise would’ve.

Billy cleared his throat. Steve was fidgeting, so maybe that was enough of that subject. Billy felt the tips of his ears burning when he tried to find words for the second thing he wanted to talk about. “Um…That wasn’t all I wanted to talk about.”

Steve took a sip of his coffee. “Okay.”

“Yeah. Uh…” Billy took a deep sigh. Better just to spit it out. “The re—red panties…”

Steve had to close his eyes. He felt his face heating, and it embarrassed him. He hoped Billy would take his reaction as just that, embarrassment, and not as anything else. Especially not as something that had launched an avalanche that was shaking his life inside out.

Billy looked at his own mug when felt his face burning so he didn’t see Steve’s reaction. “They’re, uh…they’re mine,” he stammered. “I, uh…I—I like to wear them. Sometimes. It’s a secret and…no one has known until now.” To Billy’s surprise, admitting it felt liberating instead of anything else.

Steve hid behind his mug and drank from it as much as he could, even though it burned his entire mouth, and he was sure he wouldn’t taste anything for a few days. He knew he should say something. Yeah, I figured. No problem, I really liked the idea, was what he wanted to say. “Uh…” he started, knowing he couldn’t say what he was thinking. Ever. This secret would die with him. “Don’t worry about it. I mean, it’s OK. Not my business what you do in your room.”

Billy swallowed, glad that Steve took it like that. But he couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed, too. He’d been secretly hoping that maybe finding out such a delicate secret would’ve stirred something in Steve. Apparently it hadn’t, and instead, just made him embarrassed. “Yeah?”

Steve was nodding vigorously. “Yeah. Yeah, absolutely.”

Billy fidgeted with the ear of his mug. “Thanks,” he said. “Sorry you had to learn about it like that.”

Steve swallowed the rest of the coffee and set the mug on the table. He finally glanced up at Billy. A thought of getting up, leaning over the table and kissing Billy pierced his mind. A dream come true.

One he couldn’t have.

“Well, the mug is empty,” he said instead, getting up. He smiled a little. “So, any sign of the shoes?”

Billy looked up at Steve. “So, are we okay? I mean, really okay?”

Jesus, those eyes are blue, Steve thought. He could drown in them and would, too—happily. He found himself thinking that there was nothing he couldn’t forgive Billy. Clearing his throat, he nodded, his smile widening a little. “Yeah. We’re good.”

Billy nodded and got up. “Just a sec.” He went to his room and came back a moment later with Steve’s shoes.

“Do I have to worry about you stealing my shoes again?” Steve asked, with a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Billy smiled and offered the shoes to Steve. “You kept slipping away in the mornings, coming home just to sleep and…I just really wanted to have this chat with you, ’s all.”

Their hands brushed against each other when Steve took the shoes from Billy. It sent a hot jolt through Steve, and he set the shoes quickly on the floor and tied the laces. He needed to get out before he did something stupid.

When Steve left, Billy walked by the sink and looked through the window at how Steve got into his car and drove away. Steve’s warm skin on Billy’s in the tiny point of contact where their hands had touched was still burning his hand. He’d wanted so much to drop the shoes and kiss Steve. He’d needed to.

The truth was, Jason had asked him for another date. But he’d lied to Jason he couldn’t, not this week. That he was busy with a restoration project of an old Mustang and that maybe next week he’d have time.

He squeezed his eyes closed. Why did he always have to make stupid choices? Listening to his heart had only ever brought him heartache. And he’d just recovered from one heartbreak, only to get into another one that would probably drag on even longer than the first. He’d be hanging on to something he couldn’t have as long as Steve would live with him, or at least as long as he didn’t find someone he would truly be interested in.

Maybe he had no other option but to make himself interested in Jason for real.

Steve hunched over piles of paperwork in his office, the clack of keyboards and murmur of co-workers creating a soft background noise that reached his office through the open door. He tried to push Billy out of his mind and keep himself concentrated on his work, and the sounds seemed to help him achieve that.

“Hey, did you catch the game last night?” Dave, one of Steve’s colleagues, asked with a smirk, leaning against the door frame.

Steve glanced up. “Missed it,” he confessed. He’d been at the office all night and hadn’t even remembered the office bet pool. “But let me guess—our team tanked again?”

“Like a lead balloon,” Dave snorted, pushing off from the door frame. “We should start betting on how much they lose by!”

A round of laughter erupted from a nearby cluster of desks, and Steve joined in, the corners of his lips upturning genuinely for the first time that morning.

His gaze meandered through the door and across the sea of beige cubicles, his mind pulling him back into the conversation with Billy.

So far, two things had made themselves known. One, Billy hadn’t agreed to go on a second date with the guy—yet—and two, he had admitted to liking feminine underwear. Not that Steve needed a confirmation on that anymore. But it was nice to know for sure. So, Billy was still free and nothing was yet written in stone.

He still had a chance, but he needed to act on it. He just had to come up with something that might reveal what Billy really thought of him. If he really had a shot. No matter the consequences.

Janet, the secretary of Steve’s boss, appeared in the doorway, popping Steve’s reverie like a soap bubble. “Hey, Steve. Your list for the new purchases for the meeting this afternoon…you sure it’s right? I mean, ‘The Scent of a Wow Man’ sounds thrilling, but…”

Steve looked up at her. “What? Oh, that’s not—”

“Or what about ‘Bad man returns’?” she continued with a smirk and gave the paper to Steve.

“Damn it,” Steve muttered under his breath, reaching out for the paper as he felt heat rising to his cheeks. “I’ll fix it,” he said as he hurried to correct the list.

“Well, movies in your mind as they should be, just a little…adult-themed, maybe,” she teased, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Long week,” Steve admitted, trying to shrug it off, and rewrote the list by hand—careful not to let his thoughts wander to the last thing he’d seen of Billy in the morning: his sapphire eyes.

And then it came to him. He didn’t actually like the idea and what it required from him, but it was something he knew would get Billy’s attention for sure. Apparently, he was willing to leave his comfort zone for Billy.

The salty breeze from the Pacific ocean played with Billy’s hair as he sat across from Jason at lunch. All the way to work in the morning, he’d pondered the choices he could make and if he should take Jason’s invitation for another date. When he’d arrived at the garage, he’d called Jason first thing, wanting to stop the useless what-ifs for good.

Now they were sitting on the terrace of The Sand Dollar Cafe, a kitschy eatery by the beach, adorned with seashell wind chimes and driftwood art.

Jason was detailing his latest real estate conquest. “…and it was such a steal,” he said. “The view alone was worth—”

“Sounds killer,” Billy interjected, his mind drifting at the rhythm of the fish fillet he pushed around his plate.

“Uh, well, yes,” Jason said. He wiped the corners of his mouth into a cloth and reached out to Billy’s hand with his. “Everything alright? You look like your mind is…surfing on some distant waves.”

Billy looked up at Jason and forced a smile he didn’t feel on his face. “Oh, no, sorry. Just thinking about…work.”

“Right,” Jason replied, a hint of skepticism in his voice. He settled the cloth next to his plate and drank from his glass. “Speaking of which, how do you stay so clean while working on cars all day?”

“Oh, I just…” Billy started before he really, really heard the words. He frowned and looked down at the front of his shirt and his hands. He’d changed his clothes and checked himself in the mirror several times before leaving work to not have any oil or grease stains on him. Or did Jason actually make a derogatory comment about his job? For a moment, Billy had to hold back really hard not to say the first thing that came to his mind. He tilted his head as he looked up at Jason. “Ever heard of overalls?” he said tersely.

Jason raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “No need to get offended. I just wanted to know how the technicalities work. I have no firsthand experience, that’s all.”

“Right,” Billy said, biting his tongue. He didn’t yet know Jason that well, so maybe he shouldn’t get all worked up over something small like this. Maybe Jason was honestly interested in his work and sometimes just said things as he thought of them, without a filter. He did that sometimes, too.

Steve had left work the moment the afternoon meeting with his boss ended.

He knew a shop selling all the gear he’d need close to the bungalow, and that’s where he headed.

“Hey, Steve, my man!” Argyle, the shop owner—and one of Billy’s best surfer friends—greeted him from behind the counter. “Billy sent you to get that new wax he ordered?”

“Uh, no. Not exactly,” Steve said, looking at the rows of surf boards next to each other, lining the walls of the shop. “I’m here…uh, for…myself.”

Argyle’s face lit up, and he stood up and walked to Steve. “Alright! So, what do you need?”

Steve looked at him sheepishly.

Argyle squinted, measured Steve from head to toe, and then placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You’ve never surfed in your life, have you?”

Steve shook his head slowly.

Argyle smiled a wide smile and patted Steve’s back. “Hey, no problem-o, man! Everyone gotta start somewhere.” The tall surfer turned around, looked around his shop for a moment, and started gathering the gear Steve would need. He talked while he sauntered around the shop, collecting everything. “So, Billy’s teaching you?”

“Um, well…I’m hop—I’m hoping he would.”

Argyle turned to look at Steve, who followed him like a lost puppy, and nodded, a wide smile apparently permanently plastered on his face. “He will. I was wondering when you’d get bitten by the surf bug. Billy can be enthusiastic about it.”

Steve laughed nervously. “To be honest, I’m terrified about the whole thing,” he confessed.

“Mmm, real. Trust me, you won’t look back after you do one clean wave,” Argyle said, sliding his hand in the air, imitating surfing on a wave. “After that, it’s just chasing the next one.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m sure about that,” Steve said, feeling his hands sweating just at the thought of riding a wave on a slick board.

Now that he was clearly doing this and not just thinking about it, it no longer sounded such a good idea. But it was the best one he could come up with. For a moment, he had thought of joining Billy’s aerobics class, but the guy who Billy went on a date with was there, so it wasn’t really an option.

And besides, surfing was Billy’s one true love. Sure, he loved fast cars and his beloved Camaro, but what he actually could do, and frequently did, was to spend all day on the waves and go back first thing in the next morning, day in and day out.

So, if he really wanted to get Billy’s attention, this would be the way.

Billy slammed the door of the Camaro closed after him and stomped to the front door of the bungalow. He’d gone to the late and long lunch hoping maybe Jason would’ve showed a side of himself that could’ve been worth pursuing.

Unfortunately, the opposite had appeared to be true. The guy hadn’t stopped talking about his work, his accomplishments, and how much money he’d made a year who knows how many years a row. Sure, money was nice, but it wasn’t what Billy was looking for.

He was annoyed at taking off half a day for only learning that he should’ve listened to the gut feeling he had already on the first date and never see Jason again.

Billy opened the front door and the moment he saw what was in the living room, Jason vanished from his mind.

Steve was standing in the middle of the living room wearing a full-body wet suit and leaning awkwardly to a blue and white surfboard.

“Yo, broski, wanna hit the waves?” Steve asked him, the slang not quite fitting into his mouth and making it sound stiff.

Billy couldn’t help but to laugh. “Well, my dude,” he replied, taking in the view and nodding approvingly. “I think you first have to learn how to.”

Steve smiled at Billy’s reaction; the blue eyes were sparkling and the smile on his face was wide and toothy and the laugh genuine. It was exactly what Steve had hoped for. “Well, I was thinking, if you have the time, I could take a lesson or two from the best.”

Billy couldn’t get his eyes off Steve. The guy had been adamant about not getting on the waves. Ever. But here he was, standing, in full gear, ready to go. A warm fuzziness filled Billy’s chest. Maybe there was a chance with Steve after all.

#harringrove #harringrove fic #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fanfiction #billy x steve #steve x billy #mutual pining #fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #suometar writes

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allaboutsturns · 2 hours

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𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚜!

christopher sturniolo x reader

content/warning(s): fluff, lego building, kissing, tickling, swearing.

summary: you bought a flower bouquet lego set and were struggling to figure out how you were meant to build it when your boyfriend chris walks into your shared room and offers to help.

you stared at the scattered array of orange, yellow, white, and green lego pieces that decorated the hard wood floor of you and your boyfriends shared bedroom with an annoyed expression painted across your face, “ugh!!” you groaned, impatience starting to boil through your veins.

you had been trying to put together this lego bouquet for probably thirty minutes now, but with each attempt came failure. you just couldn’t figure it out and you were too stubborn to ask for help. you knew if someone offered help, you’d take it without hesitation.

“this is really starting to piss me offfffff!” you huffed. you heard footsteps walking down the stairs towards the bedroom that you were in. instead of getting up to greet whoever was approaching, you placed your head in your hands allowing defeat to cast a shadow over your body.

you rocked back and forth in your criss-cross position on the floor. you heard the door open which was followed by a little chuckle, “baby, what are you doing?” a familiar voice asked. you groaned before throwing your hands up into the air as a surrender.

“i can’t figure out this damn lego set,” you mumbled as you jutted your bottom lip out into a fake pout, finally looking up at the boy who had entered the room. it was your boyfriend, chris. he was wearing a black hoodie and grey sweatpants.

“well i don’t think you’ll be able to figure it out without the manual for one,” chris said with furrowed brows as he grabbed the manual out of the small garbage can that resided in the corner of the room. you rolled your eyes at him, too stubborn to fully admit he was right, “well… yeah..” you grumbled.

“and two, the pieces are scattered everywhere, ma,” he paused as he scanned the floor, finally continuing, “you have to keep the pieces organized.” he said with a small laugh as he walked over to you, patting your head gently before sitting down next to you.

“can i help?” he asked before planting a small kiss to the tip of your nose. you felt a smile tug at the corners of your lips as you nodded, “yes please,” you answered, finally letting the smile take full control of your expression.

chris smiled back, planting another gentle kiss to your lips. you smiled into the kiss before pulling away and looking at the unorganized mess of lego pieces in front of the two of you, “okay so… organize?” you asked. chris nodded his head as he hummed a response, “mhm!”

the two of you began organizing orange with orange, yellow with yellow, white with white, and green with green.

after you finished organizing the pieces, chris picked up the manual that he had placed on the floor next to him a couple minutes previously. he flipped it open to the first page of instructions and you leaned over, laying your head on his shoulder as you looked over the page with him.

“okay so these pieces,” he started, pointing at the green pieces, “go like this,” he continued, now pointing at the picture representation on the instructions. he placed the manual down, in front of the two of you this time, leaving it open to the first page.

you both began grabbing pieces and connecting them together. sometimes you would pick up a piece he needed and would hand it to him, vice versa.

after about thirty minutes, you and chris placed the final lego piece onto the build together. with one final click, you guys had finished.

“we did it!!” you cheered. chris laughed and pulled you into him, kissing your head and face excitedly. you couldn’t help but giggle at how cute he was.

you laid in his arms as you both looked at your completed lego masterpiece. after about five minutes of just looking at your hard work, you felt chris’s body shift and you looked up at him. he looked down at you and a mischievous smile crept across his face. you shook your head and tried to escape his grasp but it was too late, he was already tickling you.

“chris! shit- no! please! stop- oh my god!!” you screamed through a laughing fit. you tried to wiggle free but couldn’t escape his grasp. you were both laughing uncontrollably.

all that could be heard from your room were squeals and screeches and laughter, “baby, stopppp!!” you begged, laughing so hard that tears began to form at your waterline.

“fineeee,” he sighed with a fake pout as he stopped tickling you, “your laugh is just too damn cute,” he mumbled. you rolled your eyes and playfully punched him in the arm, “you’re the worst!” you said with a giggle. he smiled and kissed your forehead.

“i love you so fucking much, ma.” he whispered, pulling you into him as close as he could. you nuzzled into his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist, “i love you, baby.” you replied as you closed your eyes.

chris ran his fingers through your hair gently as you both sat on the floor tangled in each other. it was moments like these that you both held so close to your hearts. this was a memory you would never forget, “i wish i could just freeze time and stay in this moment forever,” you whispered into his chest quietly. him playing with your hair was lulling you to sleep.

“me too, gorgeous, me too,” he said quietly, “but i’m also glad that we can’t freeze time here because that means i get to make more memories like this with you, more memories that we won’t ever forget.” chris said as he kissed the top of your head. you smiled and nodded, “you’re right.. i love you more than anything.” you spoke the words ‘i love you’ again. you couldn’t help it, you really did love him more than anything and if you could say it to him a million times in a day you would.

“i love you more than anything, ma.” he reciprocated.

eventually you fell asleep in his arms on the floor. he noticed because your breathing slowed and your grip on him loosened a bit. he gently stood up and picked you up bridal style, walking you over to your guys’ bed. he placed you in the bed gently and tucked you in, walking over and turning the lights off before grabbing the lego bouquet the two of you built and putting it on his desk, “i’ll find a little vase for you tomorrow.” he whispered quietly to the bouquet, giving it a little boop before walking over to his side of the bed and climbing in.

he gently pulled you as closely into him as he could and kissed the back of your head before closing his eyes and falling asleep. your breathing synced as you both slept peacefully, dreaming about more memories you hoped to make with each other.

divider by: @/Kafekitsune

MORE CHRIS FLUFF!!! i’m obsessed w him he’s js so cute (IM A MATT GIRL 4LIFE THO!!) i love building legos so i js had to make one about the reader and one of the triplets building a lego set together. HOPE YOU ENJOYED! (writers block has been kicking my ass btw so i hope this isn’t like… terrible LMAO)

- ace <3

taglist: @whoisabbyysblog @mattyblover07 @b2cute @samandcolbyfan22 @h3arts4harry @nickgetsmewetter

#Spotify #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #allaboutsturns #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fluff

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itgetzweird08 · 4 hours

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“You’re nervous..”

You said so matter of factly, your head resting on Bakugou’s chest. He grunted, opening one eye to look down at your face. “I can tell,” you continued “Because you didn’t clean your room before we laid down… and you didn’t do your reps. You only miss those when you’re sick or when you’re so nervous you can’t focus. And I know you aren’t sick so…” he scoffed, closing his eye again. “You should be a goddamn detective if this hero shit don’t work out.” You chuckled, but his joke didn’t distract you. “Talk to me Kats…you’re nervous about tomorrow, aren’t you?”

He stayed silent, and for a moment you thought prying was a bad idea. You had only been dating for four months, since Christmas, and you didn’t want to over step any still fresh boundaries. But Katsuki sighed, shrugging softly. He figured, if there was anyone he could be real with, it was you. Plus, he was trying to learn to communicate a little better anyways.

“Yeah. ‘M nervous. Not cuz I don’t think we’ll win, but because of…you.”

You sat up, looking at him confused. “Because of me?” He huffed, sitting up and facing you. “Yeah- I know we’ll kick ass. We got the top heroes, Mr. Aizawa, and both of our classes. Even though they ain’t as strong as me, everyone can put up a fucking fight. But..I’m worried something’s going to happen to you. What if they put you on the front lines, or the villains manage to get free and end up hurting you? Taking you? What then? What if…I can’t protect you?”

You frowned hearing his worries, and at some point during the confession, took his hand. But your frown slowly turned into a soft smile, and you ran your thumb across his knuckles in an attempt too soothe him. “Kats… do you remember what you said when you confessed to me?”

He snorted, “Of course I fucking remember. I said ‘go out with me you damn nerd, it’s getting cold out here.’” You shook your head, nudging him with your shoulder. “Before that, dummy. You said-“ He cut you off “ I said ‘I’ve fucking liked you since the fitness test. I thought you were beautiful, capable, smart, and stronger than the rest of the extras in this goddamn school and if there’s anyone who can give me a run for my money to be the top hero, it’s you. And I think it’s still true’” He quoted himself, and you kissed his cheek, taking his face into your hands. “Exactly— you know I’m capable of protecting myself and putting up a fight. Trust me, I’m concerned as hell for you too, but I need you to focus on the mission and not me. I’ll be okay. We’re both gonna kick some villain ass and I promise once it’s all over I’ll be right back here laying next to you and watching that cheesy fucking all might movie you love so much.”

He growled, grabbing a pillow from behind him and gently whacking you with it. “It ain’t fucking cheesy! It’s classic fucking cinema”

You grabbed your own pillow and hit him back, giggling all the while. “Mmhm! Of course it is.”

“I’m serious Y/N!”

It was moments like this that kept Bakugo brave as the battle began. And it was moments like this that you both thought about as he took his dying breaths. He was so worried about protecting you, but you couldn’t protect him.

Pity.

——— —-

I have no remorse :) Anyways im starting to do requests! So if you have an idea for me, go ahead and put it in my asks <3

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soloorganaas · 6 hours

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blind date - @wolfstarmicrofic - 722 words

“No, Tonks I am not—”

Sirius broke off, running an infuriated hand through his hair as he reached the end of his tether.

“I don’t like bloody dating to start with. I am not going to sit in a restaurant trapped with a stranger for two hours.”

“Yeah, first of all it’s a bar not a restaurant, so the maximum commitment is a drink, which you’d walk out of anyway if you didn’t like the guy,” Tonks countered, undeterred. “Secondly, he’s not a stranger.”

Sirius stabbed his wand at the dishes in his sink and they obediently began to clean themselves.

“He’s some bloke from work you barely know, You can’t have any idea whether we’d like each other or not!”

Tonks smirked and Sirius inwardly cursed himself.

“So you admit there’s a possibility that you would like each other, though,” she said smugly. “That you are actually still open to the possibility of love despite professing a cold, broken heart.”

“Oh fuck off,” Sirius said, throwing a dish cloth at her. Tonks caught it with a grin.

“I know you’re open to it really! You’ve just got to let a tiny part of yourself go with it.”

Sirius heaved a sigh, frowning at the bubbles in the sink, and Tonks softened.

“You’ve changed a lot, you know. You’re not the same person you were then. It wouldn’t happen again.”

Sirius glared at her, then flicked his wrist and the soapy water drained away.

“What do you - well, what do you actually know about him?”

“He’s a professor, teaches muggles and wizards. He’s an expert in the dark arts and he’s not a weirdo about it.”

Sirius snorted.

“He’s very polite and patient,” Tonks continued, pressing her advantage. “Which I know because he answered every single very dumb question the department asked when he was in our office last week.”

“Working for the Ministry is a point against him.”

“He came in for one morning as an expert adviser,” Tonks said, ignoring Sirius’s goading. “And he was really cute.”

Sirius pressed his lips together, trying not to look too interested.

“What does he look like?”

“You know,” shrugged Tonks. “That sort of… thing you like.”

“Thing?” Sirius asked.

“A bit nerdy, sort of… you know… unconventional?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Odd. He’s a bit odd. But in a good way,” Tonks insisted.

“I do not have a thing for people who are odd!”

“You do. And you’ll have a thing for him, I promise. Saturday at 7! Don’t be late!”

Sirius wasn’t late - he was exactly two minutes early, just enough to look polite but not so much he seemed too keen.

The bar was dark, a maze of elegant booths and secluded tables and a long, mahogany bar top winding through it. He could barely make out the people in front of him, let alone any (hopefully attractive) strangers.

“Are you here to meet someone?”

Sirius looked round to see the hostess smiling politely up at him.

“Er, yes - under the name Tonks.”

“Mr. Black?”

“Yup - just point me in the right direction, I can find him,” Sirius said, wanting to avoid as many witnesses as possible to this awkward encounter.

“He’s waiting for you at the bar. Just by the marble pillar.”

“Great, thanks.”

Sirius made his way across the room towards where the bar top slid behind a sleek black obelisk. There was a faint shadow of a figure nearby it - clearly the other man wanted to avoid this as much as he did. Except that also meant Sirius would have no way of escaping once he’d caught sight of him.

A single leg dangled just into view, one brown brogue at the end and long fingers playing across its knee. Sirius took a breath.

“Excuse me, I’m Sirius Black, I’m looking for—”

His draw dropped; his heart stopped.

“Sirius?”

“I…. Remus?”

Sirius looked around wildly as if he could have missed the man he was supposed to meet - but no, there was no one else. This was it.

Remus was staring at him with every bit of confusion and embarrassment that Sirius felt himself.

“I’m sorry, I — an acquaintance from work suggested I meet you here. She mustn’t have known…”

“She knew,” Sirius said shortly.

“She did?”

“She’s my cousin. You think she hasn’t heard about my ex-fiancé?”

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #sirius black #remus lupin #hp #otp: i’m mental about you #writing tag #I LOVE IT WHEN THEYRE MESSY

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doomhands-jr · 11 hours

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The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 1

Noah Sebastian X Reader Summary: Noah is a delinquent and you are the pastor's daughter.

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Masterlist

__________

“Why would someone do something like that?” you asked, staring down at the picture on your phone. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” you dad’s voice crackled through the speaker. “I can only guess that he’s clearly lost and hurting.” You stared once again at the photo displayed across your screen. A black, horned figure stared back at you with the letters HAIL SATA scrawled in red underneath. At least they didn’t finish the last word. Could someone go to Hell for saying that? You weren’t sure. It made you uncomfortable though.

You didn’t like to think about anyone going to Hell. Suffering for eternity with no way out? A lifetime of being burned alive? Your throat started to close up and you knew you had to stop thinking about it too much or you would have an anxiety attack. That happened sometimes when you thought about Hell too much. It’s why you always tried to make sure you were on the right side of the Bible.

“Do they know who did it?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Caught him trying to scale a fence. The paint on his forefinger matched the colors on the wall. He spent the night in custody. They’re asking if I want to press charges.”

“Do you?” you asked.

“Well, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I’d like to negotiate his sentence. Some community service would do him some good, don’t you think?” “I suppose,” you mentioned, not sure where your dad was going with this. “I need you to monitor it.”

“Monitor what?” you said, not quite putting two and two together.

“The community service. Are you listening?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, shaking your head rid of the thoughts that had crept in. You’d started thinking about Hell again. “Why me?” you asked. “Because I trust you,” he said. You groaned internally. “I need you to witness to this boy. He’s a lost soul and needs to be brought to the Lord. It’s only for a few weeks. Saturday mornings from eight to noon. I know you can do that.”

You sighed. Your father always did this. You were tired of the guilt trips, but they still worked every time. Besides, what’s more important to you? Sleeping in on Saturdays or someone’s eternal fate? You were being selfish. “Fine, but I want a leadership role at the youth center this year.”

“Done. I’ll call you later with more details. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You slumped forward. There goes the rest of your Saturday mornings. They were the only day out of the week you actually got to sleep in, since you had Church every Sunday morning.

At least you’d be working closely with Isaac during the week. You melted a little even thinking about him.

He was the praise and worship leader for the campus youth group, and the most attractive man you’d ever seen. You’d kissed last summer during a game of truth or dare among the rest of the staff at the summer camp, but haven’t made progress on that front since.

You sighed and fell back into bed, acknowledging that this was likely your only opportunity to sleep in for a while, allowing your thoughts to stay on Isaac and go as far as you could before it turned to lust (a sin).

_________

The chilly mid-October wind sent shivers coursing through you. Three weeks had passed since your dad had informed you that you’d be conducting community service. It was 7:56 AM and you were standing, clipboard in hand, next to the marred wall of the youth center, waiting for the delinquents to show up.

Delinquents, plural. Apparently, they caught the guy’s accomplice with the help of security footage.

“Excuse me, am I in the right place?”

You looked up from the clipboard to see a young man with a friendly smile.

“Name?” you asked.

“Nick,” he answered. You looked down at your clipboard and wrote the time next to his name.

Nick had striking features. He wore a backwards ball cap, a black hoodie, black jeans, and a denim jacket overtop. A nose ring decorated one side of his face. He took his hat off and ran his fingers through a mop of messy brown hair in a way that let you know that he knew it was attractive, before placing the cap back on. He had a friendly, disarming smile that you didn’t expect from a delinquent. It was charming in a sickly-sweet sort of way.

“Good. Okay yes, you’re in the right place. Do you know where the other guy is?” you asked.

“Noah? Not sure. He should be here soon though. He knew we had this today.” It was 7:59. You had to report him to your father if he wasn’t there by 8:00. You sighed. Was it so hard for people to be on time? You arrived to everything at least five minutes early and had no problem with it. It irked you whenever people blatantly disregarded rules, but you supposed you could have expected so much from someone who vandalized houses of worship for fun. In your mind, that was just mean.

Your father characterized him as someone who was just sad and hurting. And maybe he was, but he was also a jerk.

When he still hadn’t arrived at 8:10, you determined he probably wasn’t going to and figured that there was no sense wasting time.

“Okay Nick. You see the buckets and sponges over there? Grab a sponge and start scrubbing.”

“Aye,” he answered and walked off. He was much more chipper than you’d have expected for a criminal. But then again, Jesus hung out with criminals, so they couldn’t be all bad.

You didn’t talk much. Nick got to work quickly and you observed, not knowing what else to do. A semi-awkward silence fell between the two of you and you busied yourself flipping through the pages on your clipboard.

It had all the rules and regulations you needed to follow, as well as the schedule for the next twelve weeks. Nick and Noah were to report to each location by 8:00 AM sharp. Failure to do so would mean another week of community service tacked on to the end of the program. They could potentially shorten their sentence if they demonstrated punctuality and good behavior, but not before they’d scrubbed and painted the wall they’d vandalized.

You’d read through all the instructions several times, yet you still had a feeling you were underprepared for this. Were you really just supposed to watch them? Or were you supposed to help them, too? You deliberated for a while until a deep voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“I’m here for my community service?”

You were greeted by a tall, slender figure with long brown hair hiding a pair of dark, indifferent eyes. He wore a black hoodie with the sleeves rolled up and matching black jeans with rips on the knees. On his arms, you could see a spiderweb of tattoos extending down to his hands and all the way up his neck.

This, you realized, was exactly what you had in mind when you pictured a delinquent. Everything about him whispered ‘danger.’ He wasn’t dressed all too different than his counterpart Nick, but something about the way he carried himself made him seem much darker. He wasn’t the sickly sweet type. If Nick was children’s cough syrup, Noah was arsenic. “Noah?” you asked, voice a bit hoarse. He grunted in affirmation but made no other move. You checked the time. 8:42.

“You’re forty-two minutes late,” you said. He blinked, but didn’t respond any further. “Which means I’ll have to report this.”

He shrugged. “So report it.”

His demeanor wasn’t something you’d ever experienced. In the church, everyone was always friendly and accommodating. It was a stark contrast to his counterpart, Nick, who reminded you of many of your church friends with how willing to cooperate he seemed.

“Well, grab a sponge and get to work, I guess.”

He did exactly that, wordlessly taking his place beside his accomplice. Together they scrubbed, not making much progress overall. It took them the entire session to reach a state where some of the graffiti could be painted over.

As they worked, you observed. For the most part, Noah remained stoic, but every once in a while, Nick would get him to crack a smile, either by flicking water at him to making some humorous comment you couldn’t quite catch.

Noah’s smile, you noticed, changed his face completely. It was much more innocent than you’d expect. It was rare, but genuine when it did occur, which humanized him to a point you were uncomfortable with, considering how angry at the two of them you still were.

“That’s all the time we have for this session,” you said once it had reached noon. “See you next week.” Without even saying bye or offering to help clean up the supplies, Noah dropped his sponge and walked away. Nick was a little kinder, telling you he’d see you next week and placing his sponge back in the bucket.

“So that’s how it’s going to be,” you muttered to yourself, and got to work cleaning up the supplies.

_____________

“So what was it like?” your friend Ava asked.

You shrugged in response. “I don’t know. They’re delinquents,” you said. “One of them was fine, I guess. The other was a bit of a jerk. But it was just kind of boring, really. They didn’t talk much. I just kind of watched them work.”

“A jerk how?” she asked. You could tell she was desperate for more information. She’d been hoping to hear an exciting story about how “bad kids” acted, and you got where she was coming from. You’d always been curious, too.

The church elders (your parents included) had always warned you about who to befriend and who to stay away from. These bad kids who go out drinking every night and get themselves into bad situations. In their stories, they always end up addicted to drugs and feeling lost with God in their lives. These were the people who needed to be witnessed to. But how were you supposed to tell them about God if you were also supposed to avoid them? It was all very confusing to you.

Both you and Ava had grown up entirely within the church community. Both of you had gone to private school, and while there were definitely some people there who were more misbehaved than the two of you, there were no real bad kids.

The biggest scandal you’d seen is when you found out Jason Carver had sex with his girlfriend. Which, admittedly, was a pretty big scandal because you were under the impression that everyone in that school had taken their purity vows seriously.

You couldn’t fathom what possessed Jason to commit such an outright sin. You were sure Jesus would forgive him, but seriously. What was he thinking?

Although the boys hadn’t been given quite as many purity talks as the girls had, so that could have had something to do with it. Each of the girls in the school were given a silver ring called a “promise ring” signifying their promise to stay pure until marriage. There was a whole big ceremony, too. Getting your promise ring was a huge deal in school. It was basically a coming-of-age ceremony.

You fiddled with the silver ring still on your finger. Ava had a matching one. You two had also made a friend pact where you’d both stay virgins until marriage. Though you weren’t sure how that would work out, because both of you had plans to marry Isaac and both of you were stubborn enough to hold out for him.

Regardless, the church community was pretty close-knit, and neither of you had interacted much with people who didn’t follow the same code of conduct. You could tell Ava was fascinated by the idea but so far, nothing too exciting had happened.

“Both of them drink alcohol though,” you mentioned. “I overheard them talking about a party they’d gone to the previous Friday, and Noah had mentioned he was really hungover and that’s why he’d woken up late.” He said this only to Nick, not to you.

“Wow. I wonder what that’s like.”

“Ava!” You scolded.

“Oh, whatever. Jesus himself drank wine,” and you just shrugged, because you didn’t have an argument for that. She was right. You supposed drinking didn’t go against the Bible. Just the rules your parents had laid out for you.

“Come on, we’re going to be late to practice,” she said. “Maybe we’ll get to see Isaac.”

You picked up your pace.

____________

Isaac was indeed there, looking very Jesus-like with his long hair in a bun on top of his head and his scruffy face. You supposed that might have been what drew you to him in the first place. He wore loose-fitting jeans slung low on his waist, a pair of Birkenstock sandals, and a plain white V-neck tight across his chest. He had a silver cross necklace that matched the silver purity ring.

Isaac was impossible not to fall for. He played guitar in the worship band, had the voice of an angel, and really practiced what he preached. So much so that it had been him to stop your kiss from progressing last summer, saying he didn’t want to do anything with you that either of you would regret.

A man who protects your purity rather than challenges it? What could be hotter?

“Okay, let’s run through ‘He Reigns’ again,” said Isaac, and he began to strum out the opening lines. Ava was on keys, Darian was on drums, and Josh played bass. You and Isaac sang.

It’s the song of the redeemed

Rising from the African plain.

It’s the song of the forgiven

Drowning out the Amazon rain.

You launched into a harmony with Isaac. This was one of your all-time favorite worship songs. You loved harmonizing with him. Your voices blended together so perfectly that the act felt almost intimate. Sometimes you’d hit a really beautiful note and you and Isaac would lock eyes and it felt like you were singing to each other.

Every night before bed, you prayed that God would bring the two of you together. And perhaps if you were good enough, he would answer those prayers, so you also prayed that He would be with you to help you not sin as much. Anything to improve your chances.

________

Noah was not thinking about his community service tomorrow. Six beers deep, he was only thinking of how he could see Madison Lewis’s nipples through her silky white shirt and that he’d like to wrap his lips around them if he could.

Madison hasn’t let him hit it in a while. Not that he was desperate. He’s had plenty of women since her, and will have plenty of women in the future. But she was always a particularly good fuck. Something about how unashamedly loud she moaned his name—especially when there were people just outside the bedroom door—really sent him.

She’d been making eyes at him all night, and he had a feeling tonight would be his chance if he played his cards right.

He kept his distance from her. She liked to play hard to get but didn’t want someone that simped for her too hard. He’d have to find his moment. If he knew her well enough, she’d get tired of the charade and present an opening to him, and then he’d move in for the kill.

That’s what set Madison apart. Noah was a hunter. He had no problem getting laid on a regular basis, but most women made it too easy. He barely had to show them attention for them to be practically throwing themselves at him. A good fuck is a good fuck, but he preferred a challenge.

Not that she would be super challenging, but at least she understood the game. Fucking her was like playing chess. There was strategy involved and she knew how to hold her own. The better he played, the more rewarding she’d be. She was reliable in that way.

Plus, she was one of the only women who knew what it was. She didn’t linger. She got in and got out without trying to pretend it was something it wasn’t—or worse, trying to force it into something it was never meant to be.

Too many times, he’d bang a girl who had played it cool with him at first, only to get obsessed and practically stalk him afterwards until he was forced to tell her he wasn’t interested. Whoever it was would cry and make him out to be the asshole, when he had been up-front about what he wanted from the beginning. For some reason, they always believe they were going to be the one to change him. They never were.

And okay, he might be an asshole in the fact that he always knows which of them will get clingy. By now, he’s had enough experience to tell. They come on too strong. They give him too many openings, worrying that he somehow didn’t understand what they were trying to communicate if he responded the first time. He got the hint. He just wasn’t interested.

At least he wasn’t interested if there were still other options available. If he got to the end of the night and all the good options had been taken, he’d throw them a bone and give them a good time, fully knowing that he was in for a week or two of headaches after they realized that he wasn’t going to suddenly fall in love.

Madison caught his eye and gave him a once-over. He was in. She turned to climb the stairs, exaggerating the sway of her hips as she walked and he followed, taking one last swig of his drink before setting it down on a nearby table and following her up.

_________

“Any idea where he is?” you asked Nick.

It was 8:07 and Noah still hadn’t shown up yet. Nick shrugged. “I was with him at Jolly’s party last night, but he disappeared and didn’t come back to our place. My guess is with Madison.” “I don’t know any of those people,” you said.

Nick laughed, showing a charmingly crooked front tooth. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.”

“Why is he going out partying if he knows he has community service in the morning?” you asked.

Nick chuckled as he pried the lid off the paint can. “I’m guessing you don’t get out much.”

“What do you mean by that?” you asked.

“Have you been to a party before?”

“Sure.”

“I mean one with alcohol,” he deadpanned. You blushed. “That’s what I thought.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because if you’ve been to a party, you’d understand why we go even if we have to get up early. That’s the fun of it. You get drunk. You hook up. You meet new people and you suffer the consequences because that’s what life is about.”

“Life is about more than just partying.”

“Something tells me you could use a bit of fun,” he replied.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you said, offended.

“Nothing,” he said, now pouring the paint into the tray and swiping his hair across his face. “Just that you seem a little uptight is all.”

You wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but you didn’t want to prove him right by getting upset about it, so you said nothing.

Nick sighed. “Look, I didn’t mean for this to become a whole thing. I was just teasing.”

“I’m not upset,” you said, albeit defensively.

“Clearly.”

You sat with his comment for a moment.

“I have fun,” you said.

Nick smiled to himself. “I’m sure you have plenty of fun.”

“I do!” you protested. “Just not the kind of fun that ends up in having to do a semester of community service.”

He chuckled again, the smile not once having left his face. “And yet, here you are, with me.”

You didn’t have a response to that.

Someone cleared their throat behind you. You looked up and saw Noah towering over the two of you. “I know I’m late again,” he said. “In my defense I didn’t know that being late meant serving more time.” You noticed the tiniest of lisps sneak out of his mouth on ‘defense’ and ‘serving’ and it further humanized him in a way you wished it wouldn’t.

“You didn’t think there would be consequences?” you asked. He shrugged, removing his hood. His long hair was tied in a bun at the nape of his neck and a deep purple bruise appeared on the skin next to it.

“Shit,” said Nick and gave a low whistle. “Madison?”

Noah nodded without making eye contact with his friend.

“Good for you, man.”

“I’ll remind you that we’re on church grounds. Please watch your language,” you said.

Noah and Nick shared a look that you knew was meant to mock you, but you were adamant. They could behave however they wanted on their own time, but this was your time.

“We were just talking about how Saint Mary over here could use a little fun,” said Nick as he handed Noah a paint roller.

“Ha, ha,” you said sarcastically. “My name isn’t Mary.”

“Might as well be,” said Nick.

At that Noah snickered. “Why does he think you could use more fun?” asked Noah. The fact that this was the first time he was choosing to make conversation with you was not lost on you. And though you knew you’d get teased, it was worth it to establish some sort of rapport, or else how were you ever going to talk to him about God?

“He’s judging me because I’ve never been to a drinking party.”

“A drinking party?” asked Nick. “Did you hear that, Noah? A drinking party!” he said, clutching at his chest in mock scandalization.

You crossed your arms and sucked on your teeth for a moment. “I don’t think you’re the right judge for what kind of fun I should be having, frankly.”

Nick didn’t speak for a second, then held out his hand for you to shake. “Alright, I’ll give you that.”

“Thanks,” you said, shaking his hand.

“Do you attend this church?” said Noah.

“Yeah,” you said. “And it wasn’t cool to vandalize it. It’s really important to me.”

“I stand by what I did,” said Noah.

“Sorry Mary,” said Nick. “Won’t do it again.”

“Again, my name isn’t Mary. And don’t think I’m going to let you off easily. It’s because of you two that I’m roped into doing this for the next however many weeks.”

“They aren’t paying you?” asked Noah.

“No,” you replied, pointing to the wall to refocus them on the task at hand. They picked up on the hint and started working again. “My dad’s the pastor at the church that sponsors this youth center. He asked me to do it as a favor to him.”

“You’re dad’s the pastor?” said Nick, eyebrows lifting up on his forehead. His expression turned unreadable.

“Nick,” Noah said, soft but stern. They shared a look you couldn’t decipher and you sensed the tone of the conversation had shifted to one you weren’t familiar with. Noah looked serious. You couldn’t determine what expression was on Nick’s face. Something hung in the air between the two of you and you had a sneaking suspicion you weren’t going to like it.

________

“A pastor’s daughter!” Nick repeated when they got back to their shared apartment.

“Don’t even think about it,” said Noah.

“A pastor’s daughter, though.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Whyyyyy?” Nick whined.

“Forget it, man. I’m not doing this with you again. First of all, you have terrible taste. They always get clingy. Plus, we have to spent the next ten weeks with her. If it goes poorly for either of us, it’s going to be awkward.”

“A hundred dollars,” said Nick.

“And second of all,” said Noah, “you’d lose anyway. I already caught her staring at me.”

“Two hundred,” countered Nick.

“That chick is so prude, she wouldn’t open her legs for Jesus himself.”

Nick laughed at the imagery. “She’s kind of cute though, in a mousy, goody-two-shoes, kind of way.”

“Nick, I am begging you. Do not make this some sort of mission to bed her. There are enough prude women out there that offer whatever kind of challenge you’re looking for. Leave this one alone.”

Nick sighed. “You never want to have fun anymore.”

Noah rolled his eyes. “I just have better things to do than to compete for who can bed the pastor’s daughter. Plus, I learned my lesson from last time. Remember that groupie?”

Nick smiled. “Chelsea.”

“Yeah. Her. She wouldn’t leave me alone for weeks.”

Nick laughed. “Yeah but dude, she came to me as a rebound and straight sucked out my soul.”

“You are so missing the point, man. I’m not interested in your games anymore.”

Nick pouted. “You’re no fun. Guess I’ll just have to make it a solo game.”

“Just wait until community service is over, please?”

“No promises.”

Noah sighed and retreated to his bedroom, throwing himself down on the bed and rolling onto his back. Truth be told, he had already thought about what you might look like under your high-necked sweater. Nick was right about you being cute. And he could definitely use a challenge.

Plus it would be the ultimate fuck-you to the church. Sleeping with the pastor’s daughter? Taking her virginity? Corrupting the innocent?

He actually had some level of sympathy for you. Clearly you were raised in a household where you had to subscribe to that shit. You probably never even questioned your devotion to this made-up religion. You’d never been to a party. You definitely had never gone past first base with anyone. You lived life with such rigidity and fear of wrongdoing that you probably never let yourself stray from that tightrope.

He knew it well. He’d been raised in a catholic household by grandparents that had instilled the same kind of fear in him. Luckily, he got out when he was still in high school, but he still remembered what that catholic guilt was like. And what happened when he broke out.

All that pent-up self-control? The sexual shame you were taught to have. He knew what that looked like when it finally burst, and you were in for a wild awakening.

Logically, he knew he should stay away. Let you live your life. He wasn’t responsible for saving you from the church. But another part of him wanted to see you freed and felt like he’d be doing you a disservice by not exposing you to the other side.

__________

“I want to go to a drinking party,” Ava whined.

“Are you serious?”

“What? It sounds like fun. We don’t have to drink. We could just go and have a good time and stay sober.”

“Am I the only one who doesn’t want to risk getting an underage?” The two of you were headed to the World History class you shared on Mondays. She’d been prying you for more information on “the bad boys” as she called them. “And you really want to come home smelling like weed and booze and whatever else happens at those parties?”

“Sex?”

“Ava!”

“I just want to know what life is like on the other side is all.”

You sighed. “We don’t need to know what it’s like on the other side. It’s probably just a bunch of idiots getting sloppy drunk and grinding on each other.”

Ava laughed. “You’re so judgey! God won’t send us to Hell for attending one party.”

“I know,” you said, though your throat tightened infinitesimally at the mention of it, because really, who could know for sure? God could be testing you.

“Just promise me, if they invite you to one, you’ll bring me along?”

You laughed. “I doubt they’ll invite me to one. They seem like they already have all the friends they want.”

“You never know!” she said.

“True.”

Part of you was also curious about what happened at these parties that made them so fun that Noah and Nick still went even when they had to get up early, but another part of you wondered if this was His way of testing your commitment to determine if you were worthy of Isaac.

If it was a test, what would you need to do to pass?

_________

“You’re on time,” you said.

“Who’d have thought?” Noah replied. It was 7:48, and you’d only just arrived at the side when you had spotted Noah walking towards you, long arms swinging casually at his side. He wore a white shirt with a gray hoodie today. You tried to get a better look at the tattoos painting his forearms, but they were so numerous it was hard to identify any specific designs without making it obvious that you were staring.

“Is Nick with you?” you asked.

“He should be here soon. He was showering when I left.”

“Okay. Well, I guess we should get back to work.” Painting had finished last week, so this week, Nick and Noah were to rake the leaves that had fallen on the ground and in the parking lot. Noah got to work immediately and without complaint.

“How was your weekend?” he asked. You were surprised he was actually speaking to you, considering how distant he’d been the past two weeks.

“It was good. Yours?”

“Good.”

The conversation fizzled out before it had a chance to go anywhere. It was awkward being alone with Noah. You were trying to stay polite, but he didn’t give you anything to go on, and you were still so angry with him for what he did to the church.

It was so much easier to like Nick. He was at least friendly with you, which made it easier to forgive him. Plus, he seemed genuinely sorry that he had upset you.

“I went home early last night, like you said.”

“What?” you asked, having not processed the information.

“I went home from Jolly’s party early last night,” Noah said.

“Who is Jolly?” you asked.

“Our friend. He plays guitar in our band.”

“You have a band?” you asked.

He nodded. “We’ve only played basement shows locally so far. Nothing major, but it’s fun.” His lisp came out again and your heart softened towards him just a touch.

“What do you play?” you asked.

“A lot of instruments, but in the band I just do vocals.”

“No way,” you said. “I sing in our worship band.”

A small smile broke out on the corner of Noah’s mouth. “I’m guessing our music is a lot different than yours,” he said.

“What kind of music do you play?” you asked.

He cleared his throat. “It’s like…heavier than what you’re probably used to.”

“So like, screamo or whatever it’s called?”

Noah chuckled softly. “Something like that,” he said, focusing on raking up a stubborn clump of leaves.

“So why did you leave early?” you asked.

Noah continued to focus on where his rake met the ground in front of him. “I didn’t want to keep adding time on to the end of my service,” he said.

You laughed, picking a leaf on the ground and twisting it around in your fingers by the stem. “Turning over a new leaf, are we?” you asked. You waited for him to look up and notice the pun. When he did, he stopped raking and stared blankly.

“Did you really just say that to me?”

“I stand by what I did,” you said, echoing his words from last week.

Noah stayed still and silent for a long moment, before nodding to himself, and then quickly, without warning, using his rake to kick up a large pile of leaves in your direction. “Hey!” you shouted, brushing off the leaves that had stuck to your wool sweater. Noah said nothing, turning back to raking. The half-smile never left the corner of his mouth.

Had you misjudged Noah? He had seemed so cold to you at first, but he’d already become much friendlier than he had been that first week.

“So do you think he went back to bed?” you asked.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” said Noah.

You sighed and fell back into the large pile of leaves Noah had been working on. He continued raking, piling the leaves on top of you.

“You know that’s how you get ticks,” he said. You hadn’t thought of that. You jumped up, brushing all the leaves off you and scanning yourself for ticks. You took your hat off to examine it and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Do you see any on me?” you asked.

“Let me check,” he said, and paused raking. You stood with your back to him, feeling awfully short compared to his towering frame. Noah crouched down to peer at the back of your neck. He lightly brushed the remaining leaves from your shoulders, and then you felt his icy fingers on the back of your neck when he pulled your collar out to check.

“Your fingers are so cold,” you said, voice coming out breathier than you would have liked.

“Sorry,” he said softly from behind you. His voice was gentle as he focused. His fingers pushed your hair out of the way so he could see and tingles erupted over the back of your neck. “Forgot my gloves. Hold on.” You felt him pick at something that clung to your hair. When you turned around, he was inspecting a brown speck pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “I think it’s just a leaf. You’re good.” He flicked the speck away and went back to raking. You, however, couldn’t shake the memory of his fingers ghosting over your skin.

“Did you go to church?”

It felt like a loaded question, but you decided to entertain him. You needed something to focus on.

“I did. Why?”

He shrugged, continuing to watch himself work rather than look at you while he spoke. “No reason.”

“Okay then,” you said, guarded.

“Do you go every week?” he asked after a few more moments.

“I do.”

“And do you like it?” he asked.

“Why? You thinking of giving your life to God?” You meant it to be teasing, but it came out more bitter than you intended.

He smiled to himself. “Just curious as to what you get from it. Why you’re so devoted.”

“It’s not all rules and restrictions, you know,” you said, feeling yourself growing more defensive. “It can actually be kind of fun, and pretty meaningful too.”

“If you say so,” he said. “I just don’t see the fun in being told how to live.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” you said. “I like having some guidelines to live by.”

He shrugged, but didn’t say anything else and you fell into an uncomfortable silence.

“It’s not like that all the time,” you continued after a while, watching him rake leaves into a modest pile. “There’s a lot of encouragement. And it can be really rewarding to devote yourself to a greater cause.”

“Seems like a cult to me.”

“It’s not a cult.”

You’d heard the arguments from people before, especially online. Every Atheist you’ve ever talked to does this same dance. They are upset that you believe in something they don’t like and react by trying to disprove God. Each of them brings up their own version of the same argument, all thinking that they, in their brilliance, have somehow got it all figured out and can change your opinion. They never can.

“Do you follow all the rules?” he asked.

“I try to. Why?”

“Just wondering. So you believe everything that the Bible says is true?”

“It’s complicated,” you answered honestly.

“How so?”

This was the part of the conversation you didn’t like. You were well aware the Bible had a lot of contradictions, and you were willing to admit that some of the stuff in there wasn’t realistic, but most people you talked with couldn’t fathom how you still subscribed to an idea that wasn’t completely perfect.

“There’s a lot of great wisdom in the Bible. But it was written by humans, and sometimes humans don’t always do a good job of interpreting God’s will.”

“So how do you know what parts to believe and what not to believe?” he asked.

“I don’t. I just do my best and hope that God will guide me,” you said.

“I guess I can respect that.”

“You can?”

“Yeah. I mean, I still think it’s bullshit, but I’m not here to tell you what to believe. I’m not the church.”

“Touche.”

He cracked a genuine smile, and you were caught off-guard by how pleasant it was. It was almost enough to distract you from that horrendous neck tattoo.

Just then Nick came jogging up.

“You’re—,” you began, but were cut off.

“I’m late, I know,” he said, struggling to catch his breath. “My bad.”

“Well, grab a rake and get to work,” you said, gesturing to where the other rake was leaned up against the tree.

“So what don’t you agree with?” Noah asked, continuing your conversation from earlier.

“Most of Leviticus is garbage,” you said as Nick fell into line between you and Noah and began raking. “Like, that stuff about women not being able to leave their house during their period? Or not wearing blended fabrics? Ridiculous. I think they were all health codes written for the time.”

Noah nodded. “What about homosexuality?” he asked.

That was a sore spot between you and your church. “I don’t think it’s wrong,” you said. “I think if God is love, then love can never be evil. My father doesn’t exactly agree. We get into a lot of arguments about it. It’s something I feel strongly about and have to pray about a lot.”

Noah nodded. “I can accept that. But the church has still done a lot of harm to that community. They should be held accountable.”

“I agree,” you said, moving out of the way so Nick could rake by your feet. “And some churches do outreach to try to heal some of the wounds. One of our sister churches even goes to the local pride parade every year. And they do fundraising to help with AIDS screening.”

“What about your church?” he asked.

You shifted. “My church still has some learning to do.”

“And do you try to educate them?” he asked. “As a pastor’s daughter, you probably have more influence than most.”

“I try,” you said, starting to feel like you were standing trial. “But I’m just one person. I don’t have as much influence as you’d think. I have hope it’ll get better though. I see a lot of churches moving towards a more progressive stance.”

Noah nodded, but didn’t say anything else. You figured that was about as much approval as you were going to get. Still, it was better than nothing.

“I just can’t get over the whole sex thing,” said Nick.

“Nick.” Noah’s voice came out stern and full of warning.

It took you a few moments to register what he had said. When you did, you inhaled sharply through your nose. Nobody in your social circle ever talked about sex openly, aside from saying how they wouldn’t have sex before marriage. You sensed this conversation could be a dangerous one, but your curiosity was piqued.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, you’re not allowed to have sex, right?” asked Nick, ignoring Noah.

“Not until marriage,” you said.

“How do you live like that? I could never!”

On the surface level, there was a part of you that was aware that most people in the secular world did not actually wait for marriage, but because you’d been mostly confined to your immediate social circle, you hadn’t actually conversed with someone who was so openly comfortable with talking about sex. You were both intrigued and so far out of your comfort zone that you struggled to keep up.

“I avoid tempting situations,” you said, noticing the hard set in Noah’s jaw that hadn’t been there earlier. His brows were furrowed and he raked slightly more vigorously.

“How do you not get into tempting situations?” Nick asked.

“I don’t know. I just…don’t?”

“Do you just…not think about it? What happens when you’re talking to an attractive guy?”

“What do you mean? I just talk. I mean sure, I might get giddy or nervous, but I don’t like…I don’t know,” you trailed off. “What happens to you when you talk to an attractive woman?”

“I honestly don’t know if I should tell you, sweet child. It might be too much for your virgin ears.”

“Gross,” you said.

Nick threw his head back into a big belly laugh, ignoring the rake for the moment. “I can’t help it! I love women. They’re so beautiful and…just…sexy.” He said this while drawing a set of hourglass curves with his hands.

“Can’t you admire them without lusting?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Absolutely not. That’s like asking me not to breathe. What’s the point? I’m not interested in being a masochist.”

You leaned against the brick building and crossed your arms, sizing him up.

“You’re not afraid of the consequences?”

He faced you, leaning on his rake. “Consequences? Like STDs or pregnancy? I’m not an idiot. I use protection.”

“No, I mean. Like. Aren’t you afraid of going to Hell?”

“Hell?” he asked, bewildered. “You believe in that?”

You looked at him, wide-eyed. “Yeah,” you answered. “Don’t you?”

“No!” he said. “I didn’t realize people still believed in that.”

“What about you?” you asked Noah.

“I’m not part of this,” he said, refusing to look up from his rake.

“He knows better,” said Nick.

Noah continued working, but eventually spoke. “I believe it’s something that adults make up to scare children into behaving. Like the boogeyman.”

“It could be real,” you said.

“Doubt it,” interjected Nick. “And if it was, I think it would take a lot more than a few fucks to wind up there. That being said,” he shrugged, and went back to raking, “a life without sex seems pretty hellish to me.”

“Nick,” said Noah with even more bite. “Drop it.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, raising his arms up in surrender. “Just making conversation.” He grabbed his rake and went back to working on the lawn, while you finished out the rest of the shift in relative silence. A strange and curious energy hung in the air between the three of you. It wasn’t a bad energy, exactly, but it wasn’t altogether comfortable.

You reached your hand up to wipe away another leaf from the back of your neck, fingers brushing over where Noah’s had been earlier. The tingles stayed with you throughout the next several hours.

____________

“Ladies and gentlemen, there is a war going on. And it’s not a war of the physical realm. No, it’s a war for the soul of the world,” Pastor Jeremy said, in his stern but somber preacher voice.

This was a common theme for sermons. How there is a constant and ongoing battle for the soul of the world, and how Satan and his army are using every tool in their belt to corrupt the hearts of the innocent.

“It is our job,” he continued, “to make sure the devil doesn’t win.”

A message of evangelism. According to many pastors, it was each of our responsibility to save the souls of everyone else. Church goers do this through all sorts of methods. Missions trips were popular. You’d been on one to Guatemala when you were in high school. A group of students went down to build schools and teach other kids about the gospel.

But lately something had been bugging you about this kind of message. Because what if Noah and Nick were right, and Hell didn’t exist? What if it was just something adults told to children to scare them into behaving?

And furthermore, did that mean that your faith was only present because you were afraid of going to Hell? What would your relationship with God look like if you didn’t fear that fate? Would you have one at all?

These questions weighed on you heavily.

“Hey,” said Isaac, nudging you with his elbow. The sermon had ended, and you’d gotten up and started walking out along with everyone else without fully realizing what you were doing. You, Isaac, and a few other students from the campus ministry usually went out for lunch after church on Sundays.

“Hey,” you said, falling into stride with him as he walked into the foyer.

“What’s up?” he asked. “You seemed a little distracted today.”

It was odd of Isaac to comment on your demeanor. You weren’t used to him paying enough attention to you to mention anything.

“Oh. Maybe I was. I didn’t notice.”

He put his hands in his front pockets and leaned his weight on one hip. He looked good in this pose, and it was possible he knew that.

“Anything on your mind?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Not that I can think of.”

Isaac seemed to notice the difference in your mood. Normally, you’d be the one asking him all the questions in an attempt to connect.

“I know what it is,” said Ava, sidling up to the two of you, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Or should I say who.”

“Ava,” you warned.

“Who?” asked Isaac, his interest piqued.

You sighed in frustration. Ava, for as good of a friend she was, loved involving herself in drama and jumped at the chance to involve everyone else, too.

“Oh, just a couple delinquents,” she said in a teasing lilt.

You didn’t know why you even told Ava about the conversation you’d had with them. You’d like to think she wouldn’t use that information to her advantage, but she hadn’t always been the most reliable friend. Truly, she was as much a friend because of circumstance as she was a friend because you shared any solid connection.

Few people understood what it was like to grow up in a church and be sent to a Christian school. Your graduating class only saw fifteen people. You connected with Ava the most out of everyone, but that didn’t mean you trusted her very much.

And you were right to be hesitant, considering she was currently repeating your private conversation to Isaac simply to gain his attention.

“Is that so?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “And who are these delinquents?”

“You’ll have to ask her dad about that one.”

“I’m not listening to this,” you said. “I have sleep I need to catch up on. I’ll see you guys later.”

Truthfully, it was just an excuse to get away from them and clear your head. As much as you usually craved opportunities to spend time with Isaac, you were not feeling it today.

Ava was right. You were distracted because of a couple delinquents—one in particular—and you couldn’t pretend that you weren’t.

Perhaps this was Jesus telling you that you needed to spend more time with him. Perhaps maybe you’d be the one to guide him towards the light?

On the other hand, it could be temptation from the enemy. In which case, you needed to guard your heart.

The only way to know for sure was to pray about it, which you had been doing in earnest, but there was still no clear answer in front of you.

__________

“So I have a theory,” Nick said softly as he took a break from vacuuming the carpet of the worship center. Noah was across the room, headphones on and head bobbing as he dusted the backs of the chairs. He’d apparently given up on trying to tame his friend.

“And what is that?”

“Okay, so it’s maybe you magically just have an inhuman amount of self-control, and I’m not saying it’s not possible, but I’m willing to bet that it’s more likely you just haven’t been tested.”

“Nick, what are you talking about?” Noah asked from across the room.

Nick placed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Our conversation last week,” he said. Noah rolled his eyes and went back to dusting, but he let his headphones dangle around his neck, freeing his ears.

“Okay, and?”

“You say it’s not hard for you to avoid tempting situations, but I imagine you probably don’t get into many with the crowd you run with. Like, have you ever even kissed a guy?”

“Why is that any of your business?” you said.

Across the room, Noah sighed and padded over to the two of you.

Nick took the tiniest side-step closer to you. “Just making conversation.”

You took a deep breath, trying to decide whether or not to play whatever game this was. On the one hand, it really wasn’t any of his business. On the other, you were interested to see where he was going with this.

“Okay, I’ll bite. I have kissed before.”

“One of the church guys?” he asked, shifting his body to face you more. Noah observed silently from beside his friend.

“Mhmm,” you nodded. “At summer camp last year.”

“Who initiated?”

“He did, but we’d been flirting all summer before then.” “And when was this? What happened? Paint me a verbal picture.” Nick was visibly interested, shifting his weight from converse-clad foot to converse-clad foot as he looked at you expectantly. You had to admit that it was kind of cute. Noah remained stoic but attentive.

“It was late August,” you said. “Like I said, he and I had been flirting all summer. It was the last night of camp, and all of the counselors were having an end-of-year party.”

“You were a counselor? Oh man, this is too good.”

“What does me being a counselor have anything to do with it?” you asked.

“Nothing. Keep going.”

You rolled your eyes, thinking that you might not even want to know the reason. “So anyway, we take a walk down to the beach. The sun had already set by that point and it was a new moon, so we could barely see anything. We get down to the beach and decide to go for a nighttime swim.”

“Oh, damn,” he said.

“Language,” you said. “We are in a house of God.”

He made the sign of the cross and put his hands together in mock prayer. “Forgive me. Go on.”

You had to admit, it felt good to have someone hanging on your every word like this, even if his motives were less than ideal.

“Okay. So don’t get too excited. We were still wearing our bathing suits under our clothes from the beach game tournament we’d had with the campers earlier that day. But we get in the water, and he’s like ‘where are you?’ because we couldn’t see anything, and I reached out my hand. He took it and pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. Then he said he really enjoyed hanging out with me this summer and asked if he could kiss me.”

“He asked? Ugh,” Nick scoffed.

“What’s wrong with that? It was sweet. He respected me.”

“It was weak,” he replied. “No wonder nothing else happened.”

“What do you mean by that?” you said, crossing your arms. You had appreciated that Isaac cared about getting consent before he kissed you.

“I don’t know how to explain this concept,” he said, resting his hand on his chin. “Noah? Want to take this one?”

Noah pursed his lips, debating whether or not he wanted to get involved, but ultimately relented.

“It’s like,” he said, “a guy who asks to kiss a woman is kind of a coward. When you really want to kiss someone, you just do it and risk getting shot down.”

The image of Noah, standing in the lake with you instead of Isaac, tattooed hand grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you into a kiss flashed in the forefront of your brain before you could shake it away.

“I don’t know about that,” you said. “I always thought it was like, a sign that a guy respects you.”

“Nuh-uh,” said Nick. “It means he’s afraid of rejection.”

“Is that really true?” you asked, looking at Noah.

He nodded. “A guy who respects you reads your body language and understands context. He’d know whether you want to kiss him because he’d pay attention to how you’re acting. You wouldn’t have to spell it out for him.”

“Huh,” you said, processing what he had said. You’d never considered it like that before, but looking back, you had put in a lot of work dropping hints to Isaac, going as far as to make it obvious that you were into him.

“How was the kiss?” said Nick.

“It was nice.”

Nick slapped his thigh and barked out a laugh. Noah cracked his signature half-smile.

“So it sucked.”

“What? No! It was really nice.”

“Trust me,” Nick said. “If it would have been a good kiss, you wouldn’t describe it as ‘nice.’”

“I don’t know if I agree with you. I think a kiss can just be nice sometimes.”

“Yeah, if you’re an old married couple maybe. But it just goes to show that you’ve never actually been properly kissed. And that you don’t know true temptation.”

“I don’t think I like this conversation anymore,” you said. “It feels like you’re making fun of me.”

“I might be, just a little bit,” he said. You bristled. “And I’m sorry,” he finished. “I don’t mean to make fun of you. I just think you’re missing out on some really important life experiences. And frankly, it’s a shame that the men in your life have failed you so terribly.”

You softened a bit. “I don’t like being mocked, but I suppose you’re right. I do wish the kiss would have been a little bit more…I don’t know,” you trailed off.

“Passionate?” Noah offered. You locked eyes with him and a warmth grew in your stomach. You liked feeling like he understood you.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’d dreamed my whole life of my first kiss, and when it finally happened, it was exciting because it was Isaac, but—,”

Nick perked up. “Isaac?”

You hadn’t meant to say his name.

“Pretend I didn’t say that.”

“Does Isaac go here?” he asked.

“Nick, please. I don’t want any drama.”

“I promise I won’t say anything. I’m just curious.”

“I’m not telling you anything else about him,” you said. “All you need to know is that he kissed me. It was okay. And then he stopped because he didn’t want to get tempted.”

Noah made a face when you said that last part, and you knew there was something behind it, but you didn’t want to ask. He might just join in and make fun of you.

“I’m done dusting,” said Noah finally. “Want me to start on the windows?”

“That would be great, actually,” you said. “Take Nick with you.”

Noah nodded and latched on to Nick’s collar, directing him over to the supply closet where the window cleaner was kept.

You sat on the steps leading up to the alter and crossed your arms over your knees, resting your chin on them.

You were disappointed in the kiss, you realized. They were right, and you hadn’t even noticed until now. After that night, you and Isaac hadn’t spoken about it again. It was as if it had never happened.

You had always surmised you were just better at self-control than your secular peers, and had clung to the identity, basing a level of self-worth on that idea, but what if that wasn’t true? What if they were right about the rest too, and you were missing out on all these important experiences? Were you just naïve?

You supposed that was a good thing. After all, chasing after those experiences could get you in a lot of trouble and lead you down a bad road. But then again, how were you supposed to resist temptation in the future if you couldn’t even recognize it? What would happen when something came along that did tempt you? How would you handle it?

Did you even want to know?

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fanfiction

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lau219 · 11 hours

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Enemies with Benefits

Part 10

Previous part here

…………………………………………………………………………….

Looking at herself in the mirror, she wondered again: Why was she putting in this much effort?

It was at least the fifteenth time she’d asked herself that question as she was getting ready for their date that night. She’d still not allowed herself to acknowledge the true answer, but that didn’t stop her from taking the time to style her hair more intentionally than usual, apply her makeup a little more carefully, and spend the last hour deciding on an outfit.

She could deny it to herself all she wanted, but the fact was, she wanted to look good for him.

Not just because he was starting to grow on her, though. She also wanted to tease him with the concept of look but don’t touch. Regardless of the attraction between them, Y/N wasn’t going to give Tommy the satisfaction of getting anything out of this date other than the check. With how cocky he was, she was certain that he figured he’d be getting lucky tonight, or at least making it to second base, but he was in for a rude awakening. “Hard to get” was the name of the game, because the last thing he needed was validation that he could act the way he had, apologize once, and then easily still get what he wanted. And although she believed that he’d meant the apology, she still wasn’t going to make anything easy for him, especially with their little bet. He needed to know that she wasn’t going to bend to him or forget about giving him a run for his money just because they’d come to a truce. She still had a bet to win, and that had to take precedence, even over the draw she increasingly felt towards him.

Her buzzer rang as she was slipping on her sandals, and Y/N tried to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat as she took the elevator down to the lobby of her apartment building. When the elevator doors opened, though, she realized this was going to be more difficult than she anticipated, because she had never seen any man look as handsome as Tommy did as he stood waiting for her in the lobby.

He was unforgivingly sexy in a charcoal suit and white dress shirt, the top couple buttons undone. His painfully handsome face unfurled into a smile as he looked up at the sound of the elevator dinging, and he exuded confidence and masculinity as he met her eyes and she made her way towards him. As she got closer, she could smell his cologne, and it nearly made her knees buckle. But she collected herself enough to remain upright as she came to a stop in front of him.

As Tommy looked up upon hearing the ding of the elevator, he nearly did a double take, and his pulse quickened. Y/N stared back at him looking even more beautiful than usual, which he didn’t think was possible until now. Her hair perfectly framed her pretty face, and she was the picture of confident femininity in a black and white striped midi dress with spaghetti straps and a cross-cut neckline. She looked sexier than ever, although, that seemed to be the case every time he saw her. As she got closer, Tommy inhaled her perfume, which smelled as delicious as she looked, and he was already trying to figure out for later where the zipper on her dress was.

“How is it possible that you get more beautiful every time I see you?” he said to her as she looked at him.

Y/N smiled.

“How many other women have you used that line on recently?” she asked.

“Zero,” Tommy replied. “Fact is, since we met, you’re the only woman who’s occupied my thoughts.”

Y/N released a short laugh of disbelief and rolled her eyes, but Tommy kept his eyes on her.

“It’s the simple truth, love,” he said, his expression serious. “And you said you wanted me to be honest with you from here on out.” But then he smiled devilishly. “But if you’re looking for complete transparency, I’d be happy to tell you the exact content of those thoughts.”

Rolling her eyes again, Y/N began to walk, intentionally bumping him with her shoulder as she headed to the door.

“Let’s just get this over with,” she said with a smirk.

Chuckling, Tommy held the door for her as they stepped outside, and he led her to his car that was parked at the curb. Of course, it was some ungodly expensive sports car, a convertible with the top currently down, and she guessed he had five others of comparable luxury parked in a private garage somewhere. As they reached it, he leaned forward and opened the front passenger door for her, but she didn’t get in.

“I’m sitting in the back,” she said to him.

“Sorry?” he asked, a confused look on his face.

“I’m sitting in the back,” she repeated herself.

Tommy shook his head.

“I’m not following, love,” he said to her.

“I agreed to go out with you; that doesn’t mean I have to sit next to you,” she replied.

Tommy cocked his head as he looked at her.

“That’s how a date works, darling. Or did you miss the memo?”

Y/N shook her head.

“When you made your request for these dates, you only said I had to show up. You never said I had to sit next to you. Well, I’m here, and I’m sitting in the back.”

“You’re serious?” Tommy pushed.

Instead of answering, Y/N just continued to hold his gaze while making a show of reaching her arm around him and over the rear door, dramatically dropping her purse into the backseat.

“Time’s wasting, Shelby,” she said.

Where this woman got her fire, he had no idea, but he was seconds away from turning her around and taking her back upstairs to her apartment. But she interrupted the thought before he could make a move, finally stepping around him and opening the back door herself. After she got in, she pulled her phone out of her purse and began carelessly scrolling through it.

“Let’s go,” she said to him without looking up. “I’m hungry.”

Looking at her, Tommy finally closed the front passenger door and rounded the front of the car, getting in the driver’s seat and looking at Y/N in the rearview mirror.

“Comfortable?” he asked sarcastically.

“Very, yes, thank you,” she replied, tossing her phone aside and stretching her arms out.

Chuckling again, Tommy put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb, but with Y/N in the backseat, the setup wasn’t ideal for conversation as they drove. The restaurant wasn’t very far, though, and shortly, they arrived at the place Tommy had chosen for dinner. As they both got out of the car and he turned to look at Y/N, she smiled at him.

“Pretty smooth,” she said as she patted the hood. “Thanks for the lift.”

Tommy stepped closer to her.

“Keep it up, love, and you’ll be walking home,” he threatened playfully. He then put a hand on her back and gently pushed her forward, and they walked into the building side by side.

It was a fancier restaurant with romantic lighting and intimate seating, and Y/N could tell before she even looked at the menu that the cost of a single dish would likely be more than what she’d spend on dinner for an entire week. But her thoughts were momentarily muted when she suddenly felt Tommy’s arm around her waist as they stopped at the hostess desk. She slowly inhaled as he spoke to the host, registering how much she liked having his arm around her, but she quickly reminded herself that she wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

“Actually,” Y/N cut in as the host was grabbing their menus, “we’d like two tables for one, please.”

“What?” both Tommy and the host said to her simultaneously as they each looked at her.

“We’d like to sit at separate tables, please,” she clarified.

“What do you mean?” the host asked, complete confusion on his face.

“I mean, I’ll sit at one table, and he’ll sit at another,” she responded.

“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?” Tommy said to her.

Ignoring him, Y/N spoke to the host again.

“I know it may seem like an odd request, but is that possible?”

“She’s not serious,” Tommy interjected, speaking to the host.

“Yes, I am,” she said. “We’d like to be seated separately.”

“Y/N...” Tommy began again, but she turned to him.

“You said we had to eat; you didn’t say it had to be together. If you wanted something different, you should have been more specific.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes at her, but she continued.

“And in case you forgot, I don’t like being told what to do,” she said.

After a moment’s pause, Tommy spoke.

“After tonight, we’re putting in writing the exact specifics of what counts as a date,” he said.

“Whatever,” she said in response, and then turned back to the host.

“Sorry, you must think we’re crazy,” she said, giving him a sympathetic smile. “It’s a foreplay thing. Now, can we be seated, please?”

Blanching at the comment she’d just made, the host awkwardly nodded before turning and indicating for them to follow him. Y/N laughed to herself as she saw his expression, and in spite of himself, Tommy couldn’t stop a laugh of his own from escaping as he heard what she’d said.

Walking through the warmly lit dining room, the host first seated Y/N at a small table meant for two on one side of the room, before then seating Tommy at an identical table across the way and diagonal from her. After sitting down and situating themselves, they were each approached by a server and ordered a drink. When their respective servers had stepped away again, Tommy and Y/N’s eyes met across the room, and, still looking at him, Y/N reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. She tapped the screen a couple of times before Tommy watched her bring the phone to her ear. After a few seconds, his own phone began to ring, and as he pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the screen, he saw that it was him Y/N was calling.

Tapping the icon to answer her call, Tommy lifted the phone to his ear and held her eyes as he answered.

“Miss me already?” he said.

Y/N shook her head as she looked at him and spoke into her phone.

“No, I’m just fulfilling the obligation of talking to you,” she replied. “You said we had to talk on the date. Well, we’re talking.”

“You know that none of this is what I meant, love,” he said, smirking at her. “Like I said, we’re re-writing the rules before next time.”

“Just count your blessings, Shelby. I almost stood you up this evening.”

Leaning back in his seat, Tommy adjusted his phone and looked at her, but her server had approached with her drink and their eye contact was broken. When the server stepped away, Y/N didn’t meet his eyes again.

“Almost, eh? And so what compelled you not to?” he asked her.

Taking a sip from her drink, Y/N then briefly pulled her phone down and looked at it before then bringing it back to her ear.

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you still there?” she said with feigned confusion, still not looking at him. “I thought this conversation was over.”

“You were going to tell me what compelled you to still go out tonight,” Tommy then said playfully. “Although, I know Tommy Shelby very well, and I think it’s pretty self-explanatory why you couldn’t resist him.”

He watched as Y/N smiled at the way he’d shifted the conversation, and she played along.

“Well, despite the fact that I can’t stand him, he’s loaded, and so I figured I’d get a ride in a nice car and a free meal out of the evening.”

“Really?” Tommy asked with a smirk. “There’s not anything you like about him?”

“Ummmm...” came Y/N’s reply, pretending to be struggling to find something she liked about him.

“Is it his looks that don’t do it for you?” Tommy said then.

Y/N shook her head.

“Oh, no, he’s gorgeous, believe me. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man as sexy as him before. But his looks don’t make up for the fact that he’s an arrogant pain in the ass.”

Tommy smiled widely at her response.

“Something tells me you don’t actually think he’s that bad,” he said.

“Well, he does have a redeeming quality or two. He’s very charming, and there’s a hint of decency in him that reveals itself sometimes,” Y/N paused to take a sip from her drink, “but I’m not sure I’m interested in looking any further into that. And besides, to top it all off, he smokes like a chimney.”

“I hear he’s cutting back,” Tommy replied with a smile.

“Hmmm,” Y/N said. “Well, we’ll just have to see, I guess. But he shouldn’t hold his breath.”

At that moment, her server arrived back at her table, and Y/N spoke again.

“Sorry, but I’m afraid I’ve gotta go. If you see Shelby, flip him off for me, will you?”

As he watched Y/N set her phone down and speak to her waiter, Tommy couldn’t stop smiling at her antics. If he wasn’t already totally taken with her, tonight would have put it over the top.

He also soon ordered after that, and as they ate their meals, their eyes would meet across the room occasionally, and Tommy would smile or wink at Y/N as she’d give him a playful look. At one point, she got very bold when she ordered dessert and then made a nearly X-rated display of licking her spoon, and Tommy had to look away and think of a cold shower for five minutes straight before he’d managed to calm himself down. He couldn’t wait to get her out of there.

As Tommy finally looked at Y/N again, he saw her waiter trying to hand her the check, but she stopped him and shook her head, and then pointed across the room to Tommy. Although looking confused, the waiter brought the bill to Tommy and he handed him his credit card, along with his own bill that had already been brought to him. Instead of looking at him as they waited for his card to come back, Y/N leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, pretending to be examining her nails instead. With another smile, Tommy shook his head, and once his card was returned to him and the waiter had left, he caught Y/N’s eye as she watched him get up from his table.

Jerking his head towards the entrance, Tommy then watched as Y/N grabbed her purse off the back of her chair and stood up, following several paces behind him as he walked to the front of the restaurant. Once he reached the door, he held it for her as she caught up to him and stepped outside, and they remained silent as they got in his car, Y/N sitting in the back again.

“Looked like you enjoyed your dessert,” Tommy said to her as he started the car.

“Mmmm,” she nodded in agreement. “A little too much.”

“No, not enough, if you ask me. You should have kept going.”

Y/N smiled at him in the rearview mirror, but then again made herself look busy playing on her phone. Once they got back to her apartment building, Tommy got out and walked to her side, opening the back door for her and helping her step out onto the curb. His hand on her waist again, he was trying to figure out if she had a bra on or not, when she cut into his thoughts by stopping at the front door and turning to him.

“Well, thanks for the free meal,” she said, stepping far enough back from him that his hand slipped from her waist.

“My pleasure, love, but it doesn’t have to end there,” he replied, trying to step closer to her, but Y/N retreated again.

“Actually, it does,” she said. “According to your exact words, I had to show up, we had to talk, have a good time, and then you had to pay the bill. I believe we checked off all of those boxes – I mean, I had a great time – and so this concludes the date.”

Tommy looked back at her in obvious disbelief. Was she really going to take it this far?

“You’re hilarious, love, truly,” he said. “Now, how about we go inside?”

“I am going inside,” she replied. “It’s past my bedtime. But thanks again for dinner. One down, nine more to go.”

Narrowing his eyes, Tommy stepped closer to her and wrapped an arm around her waist again. Y/N didn’t resist, but she didn’t lean into him, either. But as he spoke into her ear, she almost melted.

“Things are going to be very different next time, love, so enjoy your little victory now while you can. We’re doing things my way next time.”

Tilting her head, Y/N made a point of slowly, audibly inhaling as she placed her face near Tommy’s neck. Then, she lifted her mouth and hovered there for a second before pressing the lightest little kiss below his earlobe.

“Put it in writing,” she whispered.

Then she stepped back from him and out of his grasp, pulling open the door to her building and slipping inside, Tommy watching after her as she disappeared into the elevator.

@nyxxie-pooh @allie131313 @xsweetcatastrophe @fairytale07 @febris-amatoria

@natalie--rushman @beastofburdenxo @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @meister95 @hudson-bay-girl

@wild-rose-35 @ladyvenera @judig92 @ceirinen @hannibellector

@fuseburner @neonpurplestars89-blog @devotedlyshadowytheorist @betty21rose @galactict3a

@runnning-outof-time @aphroditeslover11 @garrison-girl-08

#modern tommy shelby #modern tommy shelby x reader #modern tommy shelby smut #modern tommy fic #modern tommy #modern peaky blinders #cillian murphy #18+ only

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bullet-prooflove · 2 days

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Welcome to Nightvale: Sean Archer X Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @to-grow-in-and-to-love @mandy426 @icefrye19 @toasted-stiletto

Sean’s relationship with you starts because of a book.

You’re in front of him in the queue at the café in Med when it slips out of your bag and hits the tiled floor, the pages fluttering open, revealing an array of multi-coloured post its. You’re too busy ordering too notice. It’s when he raises to his feet after picking it up that he comes face to face with you.

You’re pretty, so pretty that Sean doesn’t expect it. His mouth goes dry for a second before he holds up your book.

“You dropped this.” He says shyly as he hands it back to you.

“Thank you.” You say as you take it from him and place it back into your bag. “I’m reading it for my book club.”

“Welcome to Nightvale huh?” He says as he tucks his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “I’ve heard the podcast but I’ve never read the book.”

“The podcast is much better than the book.” You tell him as you wrap your hand around your takeout coffee cup and raise it to your mouth. “I can lend it to you if you want? Maybe we can talk about it afterwards.”

His cheeks colour as a smile breaks across his features.

“I’d like that.” He tells you as he gives his own order to the server behind the counter. “They have a live show coming up in June. I’m on the fence about going, I’m not sure how it’ll translate in the real world.”

“I’ve been thinking about it too.” You say as he waits for his coffee. “A lot of podcasts are doing it now, I kind of feel it’ll be like online dating, great in theory, disappointing in real life.”

He laughs then because yea, that’s kind of true. He doesn’t do apps but he’s heard the horror stories from the guys he lives with.

“Online datings not really my thing.” He confesses as he picks up his coffee and gestures towards a table. He expects you to make an excuse, a reason to leave but instead you slip into the offered seat and he finds himself sitting down across from you. “I’m not sure what you can learn about someone from an online profile. They don’t really give you the whole picture.”

“Or they send you the ‘whole picture’ once you’ve connected.” You joke and he blushes when he catches your meaning.

“Unsolicited dick pics are not my thing.” He tells you, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t even know how to get the right angle. There has to be an art to it right?”

You laugh then and it really is the loveliest sound.

“What is your thing?” You ask him and Sean shrugs his shoulders.

“Honestly I’m trying to figure that out.” He tells you, his gaze lowering to his drink as his thumb chases over the ridged cardboard. “I’m taking some time, trying to learn who I am.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” You ask him, your elbows coming to rest upon the surface of the table.

“Sure.” Sean says as he leans in close and the scent of your perfume floods his senses. It’s airy and light, like the first breath of spring on his skin.

“I know this looks all put together but I’m still trying to figure my shit out.” You says gesturing at yourself. “Truthfully I feel like we’re just all a work in progress.”

It’s the kindest, most insightful thing that anyone has ever said to him.

“Come out with me.” He says softly, his eyes meeting yours. “We can go see that show, bitch about it afterwards.”

You pause for a moment and he realises he’s been too bold, too forward. He draws away, but your hand captures his, thumb skating over the hollow of his wrist.

“I’d like that.” You tell him, the edges of your mouth tipping up into a smile. “Really I would.”

Love Sean? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#sean archer #sean archer x reader #one chicago #chicago med

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plussizefantasia · 1 hour

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Don't Cry Over Spilled Lemonade

Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None that I can think of, this is kinda angsty tho

A/N: Surprise post IG I wrote this in my notes app because I couldn't sleep so if there are spelling or grammar issues I'm sorry. let me know if you want a part two because I wouldn't mind continuing this.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings. You had become a close family friend ever since you defended Daphne against some creep at her first-ever ball out in society, it was your second season and you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on the diamond, looking out for her quietly in the background.

You weren’t going to intervene at all, just offer her some advice woman to woman if the need arose but when you saw Baron Taylor grab the redhead by the wrist you couldn’t hold back.

Anthony himself was only seconds away from coming to his sister's aid when you ‘accidently’ tripped into the man spilling your glass of lemonade down the front of his vest.

“Perhaps my Lord if we kept our hands to ourselves certain… interventions might’ve not had to happen. Don’t you think?” When Anthony had seen your raised eyebrow and defensive posture all aimed at the scumbag who dared lay a hand on his baby sister he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love right then and there. Not that he’d ever admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter.

A day later Daphne had invited you to tea at their family house in order to thank you for the rescue and potentially make a new friend and ally within the marriage mart.

Ever since that day, you’d been a regular in his home, but you were never there for him as much as he’d have liked you to be. No, you were always there for one of his siblings. You were there to talk with Daphne, first about her counting of the duke and then slowly transitioning into how she felt about being a married woman and then a mother. He could also find you sketching in silence next to Benedict, the two of you after attending to draw the same scene and then critiquing each other's work when you were done. You would trade books and ideas with Eloise, listen to Fran play the piano while working on your embroidery, and the scenes which would warm his heart the most, you’d come around to chase after Greg and Hyancith playing with them in the gardens and keeping a watchful eye to make sure they stayed safe.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings, and he loathed how much of a distance there seemed to be between the two of you.

You were cold to the Viscount, you had been since the evening you came to Daphne’s rescue, he had attempted to give you his thanks and you had simply excused yourself, “My apologies my Lord but I seem to be down a glass of lemonade presently and I find myself to be quite parched, excuse me.” Your tone was cold and Anthony spent the rest of that night and the next two years trying to figure out what he possibly couldn’t done to make you so icy towards him.

“I do not understand it Ben, she is so kind and lovely to the rest of you but is like a stone wall when it comes to me, what could I be missing?”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you brother have you ever thought of that?” Benedict was too preoccupied with this still life to deal with his older brothers pining at the moment.

“That is not possible, I’ve done nothing but be the perfect gentleman to her.”

“Anthony I have no idea why dear Y/N does not like you but what exactly will you whining in my studio do about that?”

“I resent that. I am not whining I am simply asking my dearest brother for his advice on a matter I care very much about. I thought that was what brothers were for.”

“You want my advice, Anthony? Think. Think long and hard about what you want and how you’ll get it because Y/N has no patience for wishy-washy men.”

“That is horrible advice, Ben.”

“When then perhaps you can find better advice from your other brothers. Which will it be Anthony, the one who has been blindly in love with his best friend for years, or the ten-year-old?”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know. Now leave, that storm cloud above your head is casting shadows on my fruit.” Ben pointed his paintbrush at the bowl of fruit balanced atop a stool. Anthony huffed and knowing that it would bother his brother, he grabbed the apple off the top of the pile and took a bite of it as he strode out of the room

Ben had told him to think, but Anthony didn’t know what to think about. He knew that he craved your attention. He knew that he enjoyed seeing you around his house, interacting with the people whom he loves. He enjoyed hearing your witty comebacks and the way that even if you were not doing anything in particular you still fill the space you’re in.

He wanted her in his life, and if he was being completely honest with himself he wanted more than that.

It’s during his musing that he runs into her in the hallway, you have a book clutched within your hand, and your head is held high. You don’t stop your stride even though he knows that you saw him. He bites his lip and tampers down a smirk. Add another thing to that list of things he likes about you, you have fire, he just wished that it wasn’t always aimed at him.

“Lady, L/N which one of my dear siblings are you spending your day with today?” He attempts to match his pace with yours catching up to you so that the two of you walk shoulder and shoulder.

“Actually, Lord Bridgerton, I was having tea with your mother this afternoon she invited me over so we could discuss what to do about Frannie’s debut next season.”

This was not something that normal family friends do, you know that and he knows that. His sibling’s entrances into society are a matter which the viscountess must handle, something his mother has had to continue to do because of his lack of a wife.

“That was very kind of you to help her with.”

“Well, she doesn’t have anyone else to help her.” Your words cut him down, not for the first time.

“Lady L/N may I be frank?”

“It is your home, you may do as you please.” You turn to face him, your face a mask of indifference.

“What have I done to cross you, for the longest time I have known you you have been cold to me and I do not understand why?”

“I had figured that you did not remember, either that or you had purposely forgone trying to speak with me about it.”

“About what?”

“Our first meeting My Lord.”

“I remember our first meeting very clearly, it is one of my fondest memories seeing you stand up for Daphne and ruin Lord Taylor’s vest.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at the memory.

“That was not the first time we met My Lord, the first time we met you snubbed me in front of the entire ton and sparked rumors that did not leave me until two seasons later.” She was harsh in her words and the tightness in her shoulder’s belayed her desire to flee.

Anthony was speechless, surely he had not? He would’ve remembered her, would’ve remembered turning down one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, intentionally or otherwise.

“I- I beg your deepest forgiveness Y/N I do not remember and if I had I would’ve tried to make it up to you tenfold by now.”

Your eyes began to gloss over and you looked at the wall beside his head, “It was my first season out, Lady Danbury’s ball, and I had seen you standing there surrounded by other gentleman. I had thought you a very fine figure and despite the rumor mill telling me you were nothing but a rake I had tried to begin a conversation. All you did was turn to me and laugh. I wasn’t asked to dance for the entire rest of that season and it was only until my Mother forced the son of one of her garden party friends to dance with me was that streak broken. You were the first and only man I had ever attempted to pursue and you laughed in my face. Were it not for my deep need to help those I see in need I would never have talked to you or any member of the Bridgerton family for the rest of my life.”

“You must know that I regret that, I regret everything I have ever done to hurt you and I will spend the rest of my days working for your forgiveness.” If Anthony was a weaker man he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged for your forgiveness until his last breath, right there in the hallways of his family’s home.

“I appreciate your words Anthony, but that’s all they are… words. I am unmarried, one year from becoming a spinster in the eyes of the entire ton, and you, you are the only one I can blame.” You don’t wait for his reply, just stalking off and wiping the tears from your eyes.

Anthony resolved himself in that moment. He would do whatever it took to make it up to you, to bring a smile to your face, and to cast away the hurt he had caused.

#anthony bridgerton x plus size reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #x reader #fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #plus size reader #plus size!reader #drabble #requests open #requests wanted #bridgerton

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seillean-sys · 1 month

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I genuinely cannot tell you how much simpler my life got when I stopped ruminating and overthinking over who was fronting all the time. Not only is it not at all uncommon to not know who is fronting, I would argue that it’s fine to not care. “Who’s fronting” “who am I talking to” me. If I really thought about it I could probably figure out which specific part I am, but god if it’s not the most frustrating thing in the world to look at a list of alter names and be like “which one of these assholes am I.” I just move through the world as whatever part I am and if I happen to know who that is, great. But I’m at a point in my…recovery? (We can’t do trauma work atm so I don’t know that I’d call it that, but maybe) where I don’t feel like I need to know, and I also don’t feel like I need to broadcast it all the time. I sometimes feel safer being under the radar (wow almost like it’s a covert disorder or something idk /silly)

#osdd alter #osdd #osdd system #osdd community #did osdd #did #actually dissociative #this isn’t at or about anything #it’s just a thought I had #I realized today that I feel so much better #when I don’t try and figure out who’s fronting #like it’s a puzzle #because it’s not

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hoshigray · 7 months

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𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 | toji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader is around their mid-30s - Tsumiki (age 11) and Megumi (age 9) - mutual pining - kissing/makeout sessions - unprotected sex - Daddy kink - breast sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - spooning + mating press - cervix fucking - breeding kink - praise - clitoral play (pressing and grinding) - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - you and Toji have been divorced for five years - cameos: Gojo, Utahime and Mei Mei - mention of drool/spit and tears - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k (....dawg.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: happy Halloween, everyone!! so, randomly missed writing ex-husband! toji bc it's lowkey my favorite, soooo yeah, this is what we're doing to celebrate the end of the month! anywho, happy October, beautiful ppl, and tysm for reading my works!! Alsooo, ty for 2.8k!!!

“Trick-or-treat!!”

“Gasp—Oh my goodness!”

“We came to celebrate Halloween! Also, Megumi forgot his toothbrush here again.”

Opening your door to children at the sunset of Halloween day isn’t out of the ordinary or anything special. However, it’s always a pleasant surprise when it’s two kids you hold dear to your heart. You greet them with a hug, two siblings you know too well to say you’re acquainted with. If anything, you’re practically family.

The raven-haired brother, referred to as Megumi, speaks up. “It’s not my fault! Dad was rushing me last time.”

“Because you had to bring your stuffed animals last time, holding us back for your baseball practice.” Tsumiki, the older sister, snapped back. The two argue amongst themselves in front of you as you try to mediate. It’s no avail until another voice comes to the fray.

“All right, chill out, you two.” The voice belonged to the person approaching the porch stairs, your eyesight capturing the familiar figure walking up with two duffle bags. The one standing tall before you was the father of the children, Toji Fushiguro. Who’s also known as your one and only former husband. “Get inside and finish y’r homework, or else we’re goin’ back home.”

The siblings stop bickering and head inside, taking off their shoes at the foyer and walking upstairs. Now that they’re gone, you turn to the man with the jet-black hair, his viridian orbs focused on you. The weather was chilly, so the man wore his usual dark denim jacket over his plain black sweatshirt, matching his jeans. “You look good, big guy. What’s in the bags?”

He greets you with a curled lip, and the scar on the side of his lip lifts. “Picked them up from their after-school sports, so it’s their sports gear and costumes for tonight. Mind helpin’ me here?”

“Hmmm,” you merge your facial expressions to that of faux pondering, turning your back to Toji. “Nah, can’t. Got dinner to finish making.”

“Hmph, should’ve known.” He makes his way through between you and the front door. “Wouldn’t wanna break your pretty nails carrying heavy shit, huh, princess?”

You glare at him using the nickname, hating his patronizing gaze. “From what I remembered, you would never let me carry the heavy stuff because you thought I was too fragile and easy to break. So how about that, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?”

“Really? I don’t remember sayin’ all that before. You must’ve put me in a spell.”

“Probably, I’ve been told I’m quite cute~.”

“Mmm, nah, more like an old hag of a witch.” Toji barks a laugh at your offended reaction, and he immediately ducks and heads for the stairs when you throw a sandal at him.

“At the very least, say I’m a cute witch, fucker.” You say the final word under your breath, grabbing the sandal you threw and heading back to the kitchen.

To say you and Toji were acquainted with one another would be the biggest understatement of the century. The two of you met a decade ago, fell madly in love, and married within a year of the relationship. When you tied the knot, Tsumiki had to have been two years old, and Megumi just turned one year old. You two had been together for four years after that, and you could confidently say those were one of [if not THE] best years of your life. You often second-guessed yourself being in a relationship with someone who had children, fearing that they wouldn’t like you or ignore you.

However, those worries were blown right away as the days went by. Every time you spent time with the children brought you three closer than ever; it was to the point that they saw you as their mother. How sweet! And there’s no denying that Toji loved you. The man would break someone’s nose for you — yes, it happened before, and it wasn’t pretty — for you were his sweet little thing that kept him going.

Well, if it was so great, why the divorce? Let’s just say you weren’t Toji’s first love. That title would have to be awarded to the Megumi’s mother. Even in her unfortunate passing, you can tell that Toji loved that woman like no other. It didn’t make you jealous or anything, seeing the man you love still mourn for a dead woman. Hell, you’d probably do the same if you were him. But, you can’t lie; it felt like you were cast over a “shadow” when it came to her influence. It was damn near suffocating to bear, especially in those four years of marriage. So, for your sake and his aching heart, you pulled him aside and suggested a divorce. And Toji didn’t fight you on the proposition, signing the papers and setting you free from the thick air.

Although things ended between you two, that didn’t mean things stopped being what they were. If anything, it was as if nothing happened at all. Even if you still don’t live under the same roof, you still make time to hang with the Fushiguros, whether invited to some occasion or exchange phone calls or texts to check up on them. Even now, five years after your separation, it warms your heart knowing that you get to interact with the people you care about.

There are moments you find yourself missing living under the same roof with all three of them and living alone can be pretty lonely. But all in all, as long as they’re comfortable and trust you enough to be around, there’s no need to change things up again. Like right now — the four of you sit at the dinner table eating before the kids go off trick-or-treating.

“Are you going to trick-or-treat with us, Y/n?” The brown-haired child sitting next to you asks while finishing up her dinner.

“Sorry, not this time, gotta be at a Zoom meeting for my job in a few minutes. But I do have someone else to take my place. Gojo will be here at around—Why are you two making that face?” You stop mid-sentence to notice Megumi and Toji at the other side of the table, displaying disgusted facial expressions at the mention of the white-haired other’s name.

“Why him?” They said in unison.

“Why not??” You question their irritation.

“He’s so annoying…” Again, in unison. Proof enough that they’re father and son.

You sigh as you get up to take your plate to the sink. “Oh, come on, you two, it’s not like he’ll be with you guys the entire night. He has a party at a friend’s he’s going to later.”

“Isn’t he too old to trick-or-treat?” Tsumiki questions, noting that Gojo is way past his undergraduate years.

“He is, but whatever gets that prick any free sweets,” Toji answers his daughter before getting up to put his dish in the sink.

You exit the kitchen, head into the living room, and sit on the couch. The laptop you had placed there was ready to open and unlock, and you clicked on applications and windows to look through before your meeting started in the next three to two minutes. He should be here about—

DING-DONG!!

Now.

Right on cue, you motion for Toji to grab the front door, and he follows your command. “Kids, Gojo’s here!” You shout out to the two kids who still sit at the table. “When you’re done eating, you can go upstairs and put your costumes on. But whoever finishes last has to do the dishes.” You can hear commotion from the table as the brunette rushes to put her dish in the sink and dash for the stairs. Megumi groans to himself; you giggle when you hear him mutter an “Aww man…”

You pull out your headphones to connect to your laptop, put them in their respective ears, and prepare yourself for the meeting. Ignoring the faint passive-aggressive tones of your ex-husband when greeting Gojo at the door…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Your eyes flutter open, noticing the lighting change around the living room. The orange sunlight no longer decorated the space, substituted with the gradual darkness that overtakes you. The only source of light you can figure out is the flashing from the television screen.

Aside from the TV, there are no other signs of life. There aren’t any signs of Tsumiki or Megumi around playing or causing a raucous. It could only mean the two are still trick-or-treating with Gojo.

One blink, two blinks. I must’ve fallen asleep after the meeting… You hum while sinking to the couch, burying your face into the pillow.

But…since when did your pillow act like it was breathing with a heartbeat? And…I smelt that cologne before…How?

“Ya awake now?”

You raise your head, realizing you are not lying on your couch. Technically, you were; however, you were lying on something else on the furniture with you – more like someone.

It’s then you realize that you were lying on Toji during your entire slumber, him leaning on the end of the couch, one leg spread to make room for you to sleep on him while you sit on the other. And you can guess that you had your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warm figure. He looks at you with his green eyes now darkened by the room, yet you can see their glow from the television light. And that small smile he gives you, the scar on the right side of his lip lifted upward. The familiar butterflies in your stomach flutter like before. Like old times sake…That must be embarrassing, huh?

You frantically try to get off of him, “Sorry about that, I thought—“

“No, no,” Toji places a stern hand on your back, keeping you from moving further. “You were comfortable.”

You stare at him for a few seconds until your face contours to a look, and a smile starts to creep up while you situate yourself back to your original position, pressing your face back on his chest to listen to the beats of his heart again. “I recall having this couch all to myself not too long ago, so where’d you come from?”

“Well, I wanted to watch some sports highlights, but I figured you’d kick my ass if I pulled you off and had you sleep on the floor instead.” With the click of your tongue, he chortles. You bet your ass I would. “So, I decided to have ya sleep on me while I watch TV.”

“What’s wrong with the other side of the couch? It’s quite vacant and enough for a big guy like you.”

“True,” his hand rubs circles on your back, an old habit he did when he used to have you like this. “But then I’d be lonely.”

You titter. “That’s big for someone who said he thrives on being alone.”

“I thrive being alone when I’m working.” You’re glad he can’t see your eyes roll; he’d probably grab you by the cheeks like a child. “Besides, why would I wanna be alone when I have you for myself.”

And there it is, your cheeks begin to warm up. Or was it because you’re so close to him that his heat is transferring to you? That’s probably it, yeah. Let’s change the subject…”How long was I out for? I remember the kids left around 7:30-ish.”

“Mmm, it’s going to eleven right now.”

Three and a half hours? Damn. “It’s past their bedtime.”

Toji scoffs. The abrupt motion of his chest rising is satisfying in a way that makes you even more comfortable. “You still think they’re gonna sleep with all that sweet shit they got?” He snickers some more as you shake your head.

“They know better. When you guys get home, be sure to put their candy bags on the top shelf of the closet for the morning.”

“Still traumatized from that one time?”

“Uhhh, yes??” The memory flashes to you for a quick moment, but the dread from before still haunts you. Megumi was six years old and Tsumiki seven, returning home from trick-or-treating and immediately tasting their labor from that night. However, what you didn’t expect was for them both to eat almost half their bags. Let’s just say, thanks to their sugar rushes, they didn’t drop dead until the hour hand touched two of the morning. “Unless it’s the weekend, never again.”

The way the older man chuckles is so therapeutic — it nearly makes you want to fall asleep again. “You weren’t the one chasin' Megumi all over the place tryin' to get him to sleep. Little squirt gets his speed from me.”

“Awww, poor you~” You can sense the glare as you respond in a condescending, sing-song tune. “You and him are always butting heads. Like father, like son.”

“Tch, hate that sayin’ so fuckin’ much.”

“Why? ‘Because it’s true?”

“Shut up.” The hand he used to rest his head comes down to pinch your nose. You wriggle out of his hold with giggles, but he happily keeps you grounded to him with his stronghold and a leg wrapped around to prevent yours from moving. “He only listens to you. Such a sweet lil’ baby to you, huh? Puttin’ my own son against me.”

More giggles prompt out of tiny guilt, and you bring up a hand to rub on his chest. “He’s such a bright boy now. Growing up so big and fast.”

“Miki, too. That girl is way too smart fr' me to catch up. And she’s becoming so kind and strong, crazy to think she made me play teacups when she could barely go down the stairs by herself.” Toji hums, the vibrations felt on the pads of your fingers. “Think she gets that from you.”

You shook your head. “They’re your babies. They do amazing things because they have a big guy like you to catch them if they ever fall.”

“Hmm, fair…But let’s not pretend I’m the best dad in the world. Fuck, never in my life did I think I’d be a dad, especially with two kids. I didn’t know shit back then — still! I still don’t know shit.” You don’t say anything, just listening to him voice his thoughts to you. Because he knows you’d listen – you always do. “If you weren’t there for them, I don’t think they’d be shining like this. Y’re definitely the thing that brought us up together. They look up to you so much. Ya did so well with them.”

Nodding aimlessly, his black sweatshirt grazing on your cheek. “Thank you. Same to you. Didn’t do so bad yourself, big guy.”

“Mmm.”

Nothing is said between you two after that. The only thing that makes noise is the voices coming from the television. The volume lowered, an initiative you could guess from Toji wanting you to get some rest. The silence was too awkward that it might torture some, but it was fine where it was. There was no need to change it, especially when you were comfortable in each other’s embrace.

That is, until Toji asks, “Do you miss it?” The rubs on your back go slower, his fingertips drawing a ticklish sensation.

“Of course I do. All the time.” You answer honestly, turning your head to rest your chin on him. Your eyes glimpse directly at his, giving him a tiny grin. “Why ask? I know the kids miss me being around; what about you? Miss me nagging and putting you to work all the time?”

He sneers at your comment. “Every day.”

It was such a simple answer, yet it had the power to wipe that smirk right off your face. Your eyes locked in his sight, and your heart tuning to an irregular rhythm. Oh, come on, Y/n, get a grip! “Ahem—Toji, I hope you know that I never stopped missing everything we had — I never will. Those years that we shared were probably the best I’ve had. We had happy moments, others sad, of course. But, God, do I miss it all. I miss it so much. I miss having you guys here. Miki and Gumi and—“

“Me?” Good Lord, if this man doesn’t stop looking at you with those goddamn eyes of his, such captivating orbs that say more than he lets on. Your breath hitches, and so does the hand on your back. “Hmm? Ya miss me, baby?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why’d you have to call me that? And it gets worse when he places his free hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin while the forefinger teases the lobe and tragus of your ear. Goddammnit…

“...Yes,” your voice was down a whisper, which could easily be mistaken with the television. But you know Toji heard you, loud and clear. “Especially you, Toji.” You said it. The words that he wanted to hear from you. They felt so forbidden to say, yet it was the truth. You avert your gaze away from him. But you knew that wouldn’t work, not right now. Toji taps your cheek with his thumb, and your eyes sheepishly return to his.

He doesn’t say anything, and that makes your heart beat at an unbearable rate. It’s all you can hear when you stare into his deep emerald eyes, the sound of it ringing your eardrums as if you could puke. Your throat running dry, so you gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob. If something could just happen to end this anxious torture, that would be great.

And then your prayers get answered: something does happen. Toji slowly brings his face closer to yours — your body goes rigid, and you instantly face away before the inevitable happens. No, I didn’t mean that!

“Aht aht, don’t do that, baby.” His hand slithers from your cheek to your chin, forcing you to face straight at him. “Lemme see you.”

“Toji, wait,” your voice travels out in a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t cross this line anymore.”

He listens to your pleas, but his body does otherwise. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead while the hand on your back snakes downward. “Why not?” His gruff voice dialed down to a whisper.

“Because—Mmmm…” Toji interrupts you by licking the helix of your ear. Oh, you slick bastard. “We’re supposed to be done…”

“That’s not stoppin’ me from takin’ care of my sweet thing.” Jesus Christ, you almost melted from the way he whispered that to your ear. He’s pulling out all the same old tricks, and it gets more hellish by the second as you try not to give in. “So, y're gonna let me take care of you like I always do, right, mama?”

Both his hands now rest on your ass, groping it while your hips sway as if they have a mind of their own. The leg between yours comes up slightly, making you ride on it. The heat on your cheeks has already blossomed to your ears, making it hard to think straight. Gripping his sweatshirt, your hips ride his thigh to ease the throbbing sensation that grows with every motion. Good God, you shouldn’t be doing this. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. However, it’s been so long that you felt wanted like this — wanted by him. It’s all the same – his voice, his hands, his words, his body, and the names he calls – yet here you are turning into putty.

“Haaahh, Mmmfff…Toji, please,” Toji withdraws his face from your shoulder, leaving him to examine your expression. You must look so dumb right now, with your hooded eyes and shivering lips. But, at this point, do you even care? “Please…Treat me right.”

One moment, you see his gaze narrow with a devious glint. Next, you’re taken aback when Toji slams his lips on yours, kissing and sucking your bottom lip until you give him access. With a moan, you open your mouth for him and sink deeper into the kiss. Your hands come around his neck, keeping him focused on you and you alone. Not that he would have it any other way.

His strong hands continue to knead your asscheeks while you hump and grind on his thigh. Nibbling on your lip, you whimper helplessly for him. It strokes his ego, knowing he’s making you like this, the fucking bastard. He takes in your tiny cries happily, shoving his tongue to play with yours. You give in to him, almost losing your balance riding his thigh, yet Toji’s lips never leave yours.

You break the kiss to get an imperative breath, panting loudly and sweetly for him as Toji kisses and licks your ear. The sounds make your lower region twitch. “Hnnmm, fuck…That’s my girl. So fuckin’ good fr’ me always, Y/n…” You can feel him slide a hand up to the hem of your leggings, forcing it inside for his thick fingers to brush up on the bare flesh of your butt. You gasp sharply. Him squeezing your butt has you biting down on his sweatshirt. “—Hahhh, Oh God, Toji,” With every squeeze, he inches closer to your panty-covered chasm, where you know he’d find a damp spot. Please touch me. Please, please, plea—

CLACK-CLINK!!

The two of you are frozen stiff when you hear the sound of the door opening and closing, the foyer lights turned on. “Alright~, we got you guys home. See ya later!” That was Gojo’s voice, indicating everyone was finally back from trick-or-treating. This means that Tsumiki and Megumi are about to see you on top of their father, his hand in your leggings and smacking lips with yours. Your eyes shoot wide with horror — immediately remove yourself from Toji and stand up from the couch to pull your bottoms up. You barely had the chance to peek at Toji because the kids already run to the living room to find you two.

“Y/n, Y/n, look!” The brunette was the first to greet you with her adorable pink Barbie cowgirl costume. She and her brother, dressed as Sasuke Uchiha, cheerfully showcased their pillowcases full of candy. “Look at all this candy we got!”

“Wooow, you guys really went on a haul,” you can only hope they can’t see you sweating bullets through your fake reaction. “Wh–Where’s Gojo?”

“He dropped us off here a few seconds ago and left for the party,” The raven-haired boy answered while scanning his pillowcase.

You only nod along until you frantically wipe your mouth, realizing the tiny trail of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Umm—Ahem, well then, I’m glad you two got all that candy. Now, let’s hurry up and get you guys home so you can get ready for school tomorrow!”

But the children didn’t move an inch. Actually, they looked like they were going to tell you something. You lift a brow. Oh no, they’re going to look at each other. They looked at each other and then glanced back at you. Oh, God, no. “Uhhh, Y/n, we were thinking.” Big sister Tsumiki is always the one who asks the following question. “Can we stay over?”

You inhale a massive breath, yet you do your best not to exhale a heavy sigh. “Kids, you promised to keep the overnight stays to three at max per month. This will be the fifth!”

“Yeah, but it’s dark out. Plus, it’s way past our bedtime.” The younger chimes in with a tiny pout. “We’ll be asleep by the time Dad gets us home.”

And here comes Tsumiki with the tag-team response to add on. “And that means he’ll have to make continuous trips back and forth from the car. Picking me and Megumi up, getting our bookbags, the bags full of candy, the whole thing! We already packed up our PJs just in case.”

You stood there staring at the two in astonishment. There’s no way they thoroughly planned this out. There’s just no way… And to make it worse, they were making valid arguments. You open your mouth to say something, but the two give the best puppy eyes they can. The wave of guilt hits like a train, internally cringing. You turn to Toji, who still sits on the couch, and the motherfucker only gives you a shrug. Wow, what a helpful father he is.

You groan into your hands, shaking your head while looking at the kids who wait for your verdict. “…Alright, you can stay as long as you PROMISE to put those candy bags in my bedroom closet. Deal?” The happy smiles and aggressive head shakes should answer your question. “Good, now go ahead and take your showers before you head for bed.” They rushed to the stairs by the time you finished that sentence, so enthusiastic about staying the night at your house, and you can’t help but smile hearing their footsteps run up the stairs.

With that being said, you turn to the older man again. Your brows are trenched down, but your smile is still present. “So, you legit just sat there and let those two tag-team me like that? In my own house?”

Another shrug with a dumb smirk on his handsome face. “Told you: too smart fr’ me to catch up.” You shake your head before exiting to get the kids and guest rooms ready, leaving him with the television.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The midnight hour has finally danced its way into the darkness of the night. Halloween is finally over, and the month of October is no more. The pitter-patter sound of the rain cleanses the neighborhood of its merits and festivities that partook hours ago, ready for a new phase of the year to take over.

After having the guest room ready with sheets and sleepwear for Toji and kissing the kids goodnight, you rinse your stress off with a nice shower and put on your pajamas to get ready for bed. After you turn the lights off, you drape the comforter over your figure as your body sinks with the cozy sheets and pillowcase. Your eyes close while focusing on the curtains of your window, the only light piercing inside being the lampposts by the street.

…Well, at least that’s what’s supposed to happen. But that’s not the case because you’re not the only one lying comfortably on your mattress. Instead, Toji is here with you, in your room, on your bed, his chest to your back, and his hand roaming inside your oversized shirt. Your lips are now connected with his, sharing your erotic moans with his enticing groans, and you get a little louder as his fingers cup and play with your breast.

“Mmphh…Ahhhh, I thought I told you you’re sleeping in the guest room—Nmmff!” He tweezes your nipple with his forefinger and thumb roughly.

“And I thought you’d be smart enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, drawing near your ear for him to whisper. “Besides, look at you. Still sleepin’ with no underwear on?”

“Hmph, only when I have a man around the house.” That answer got you another rough tweak on your nip and a purposeful gnaw to your ear. You knew he’d react like that, never liking the mention of another man leaving your mouth – especially during an intimate time like this.

“That so? What man you know that can handle all this?” Toji then moves from his side to be between your legs, pulling up your shirt to fully expose your chest. And your breathe hitches while his free hand travels down your abdomen to your bottoms.

“Ahhhh, no one. Just you...” You look at him with half-lidded eyes, taking in his reaction to what you said. The salacious grin on his face becoming broader should entail that he greatly loved that retort.

He brings his face to your other unattended nipple, “Good answer, princess.” The nub of your breast enters his mouth, and the wet warmth of his tongue greets it with lapped motions and grazes from his teeth. Despite that, it doesn’t distract you from the fact your bottoms are pulled down with ease and are thrown to the bedroom floor, leaving your cunt out for him, your erotic fluids seeping and glistening from the outside lights.

Toji plays with your folds until he can stuff his pointer finger into your chasm, the insertion resulting in your body’s jolt. It’s been a long while since you had his thick digit inside you, playing and scraping the inner walls to evoke whimpers. God, it felt so good, this satisfying feeling returning to awaken your body to his touch. He interacts with your body as if he’s the only person who knows how to get you going – and it’s the truth. No one can put you in a blissful haze quicker than this man. And you’d prefer to keep it that way.

The addition of his middle finger into your leaky entrance startles you, the thick digit making its way in with such vigor that he uses both fingers to scrape the velvety texture of your walls. Your eyes are now screwed shut at the growing commotion between your thighs, and the heat within your body flourishing all around gets to your head. “—Khmm, Oh fuuck, Toji. Please, don’t stop.”

With a soft ‘pop’ noise from his lips, Toji replies to your demands. “I’m sorry, what’s my name again?” You giggle with trenched brows. Of course, how could I forget?

“Nmmph, D-Daddy, pleaseee, I’m so clo—Ahhhann!!” He puts his thumb to your clit, grinding down on it unexpectedly. “I wanna cum, pleaseee…”

“Hmmm, good girl,” he teased, laying down kisses, nibbling on the skin of your stomach and inner thighs until he arrives at your leaking slit. Your body jerks up from the bed when you feel the cold, wet muscle slowly lick on your clitoris before ravaging your folds. The sounds of his mouth on your cunt are so lewd to the ear, slurping noises from his lips with the lapping motions of his tongue claiming your come are too much for you. And when he uses his hand to swipe and pinch your clit? Oh, it’s a wrap. Your release comes out without control, biting down on your bottom lip to make sure your cries don’t leave this space for the kids to hear. Their room is on the other side down the hall; tonight isn’t the night for too many risks.

When your trembling body calms down and subsides, Toji withdraws his face from between your thighs. Your essence paints his mouth, and he wipes his chin clean while licking the remnants that coat his scarred lips. “Hmph, missed tastin’ you like that.” You open your eyes when your high finally evades you, watching your ex-husband pull down his sweats. His erection springs out and hits his stomach, your mind going rampant with thoughts as you ogle at his freed limb. Shit, it’s been so long. Will that shit even fit me again?

“Don’t think it’ll fit, baby?” Damn him, he loves teasing you. Toji then discards his black wife-beater, at long last revealing his well-built, brawny physique that has you drooling for him. He uses his hands to maneuver your legs—your knees pushed to your chest as your legs propped up on his shoulders. A position you’re all too familiar with. Your eyes don’t leave Toji’s cock as he aligns his cock to your slick-coated folds. “Take some breaths fr’ me, sweetie. Can’t take care of you when you’re all tense.”

You take up on his advice and begin taking deep breaths, reminding yourself to maintain the steady pattern as he pushes the tip of his dick between the lips of your cunt. Every inhale is where he nudges into the hole of your inner cavern, and every exhale gives you time to breathe out the pain that comes in for a split second. This carries on until the cockhead wedges itself perfectly into your vagina, along with the inches of his girth that stretches until the base kisses your lips, the tip of him kissing your cervix. Tears swell up in your eyes, taking more deep breaths to prepare yourself for what’s about to come.

“Oooh fuuuck…Heh, yeah, that’s my baby right there. Fittin’ so perfect fr’ me, mama…” He puts his weight on you, keeping your figure unmoving under his bow.

“Nmmmf, Daddyyy,” you’re forced to take in all of him, and drool trails down your lips with no hope of taking care of it. “…I’m so full, you’re too much…”

“I know, sweetie, I know.” He wipes your spit after kissing your forehead. How gentle compared to what you’re about to go through. “Gonna move now.” His thrusts start slow for the two of you to adjust to each other; the feeling of his length’s veins coming in and out of your chasm is so euphoric, and the kisses to your cervix want your body to writhe and squirm. But you’re bent into this position for a reason: forced to submit to him no matter what. So you do just that.

Yet your horny haze gets more potent once he picks up the pace, rutting into you with increased speed. Your slit, still sensitive from earlier, gets overstimulated with the constant grazes on your gummy walls and jabs to your tender cervix. It takes everything in your power not to come so early.

“—Hahhhh, Nmmph. Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Toji groans above you, the thrusts of his pelvis increase to an irregular rhythm, grinding deep into your cunt to the point of uncontrollable babbles escaping your lips. His bullying on your insides results in you gripping his length hard, causing the older man to hiss and moan at your contractions. “—Ohhhfuuuckk!! Jesus Christ, baby. Y’re gonna make me go crazy.”

As if that wasn’t already happening now that he pistons his cock into your wetness, your brain turning into mush from the onslaught of ruts to your puffy wet chasm. Tears stream down your face, and more drool follows down with more precise hits to your delicate canal. The pounding in your head makes it hard to think of anything else, the squelching noises and paps of Toji’s balls hitting your cunt making it worse.

“D-Daddyyy, I’m—Ohoooo!! Oh, Jesus, ohhhshit!” You can’t formulate a proper sentence, too engulfed with the electrifying sensations coursing through your body.

“Damn, you feel too fucking good—Hnngh!!” Toji places his forehead on yours, resting his entire weight on you while his hips have a mind of their own. “‘Bout to make me knock you up…”

Oh, good Lord. The mere thought of having a child is the last thing that should be on your mind. But in a time like this, who in their right mind would be thinking straight? “Nnnfff! Oh God, pleaseee, fill me up, Daddyy!” Green eyes narrow with trenched brows. “—Pleasepleasepleaseee!! I want you to fill me up so bad, I want it, I want—Hyaaaaa!!”

How can he deny your desperate, teary pleas when you’re urging him on like this? “Heh, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, mama.” Toji captures your lips with his, your mewls taken by him as you sink further into your pleasurable thrill.

Sporadic thrusts of his pelvis produce more raunchy noises in the joining of your sexes, his heavy balls smacking on your cunt as he drives the base of his cock straight into you. Your slit is now a puffy mess, come and slick form a soapy mess that Toji now harbors a milky ring around his girth. A few rushed, sloppy thrusts heighten your high once more, and then Toji presses his pelvis down to the hilt on one final, harsh thrust, unloading his seed into your aching folds. And your climax follows in a few seconds, the walls of your cunt fluttering on his pulsating dick as your essence soaks him. Your muffled shrieks are received by him, quivering under him until the aftershocks wash through your body.

Once you two breathe at a steady tempo and the nerves of your sweaty bodies fall still, the kiss is broken with heavy pants and a string of spit that links you two together. Toji buries his face between your neck and shoulder, licking and kissing your skin as you’re allowed time to experience your clarity.

“Hmmm…You know I’m not done yet, princess.” Toji mumbles to your ear before stationing your legs off his shoulders for them to rest.

“Yeah, I know, big guy.” You tease him with a breathless laugh, kissing him on the temple. “Always wanting more…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, you’re telling me you had your ex-husband spend the night? Not just the kids?”

“Yup, that’s what happened.”

This morning was different from your usual routine – well, you can’t say it’s different if you have done it before, huh? After five years of divorce, you thought you’d be so used to waking up and getting ready for work without worrying about others. However, this morning proves otherwise.

It felt natural walking into the kids’ room and lightly shaking them awake, telling them to get ready while you whip up something quick for them to eat as Toji showers (using your bathroom, by the way). Watching the kids run down the stairs and eat breakfast puts a smile on your face, reminiscing about the good old days when they were younger and teenier. It sometimes feels surreal doing the same thing for them now that they’re getting older and taller. But seeing them bicker and interact with each other in your presence never fails to warm your heart.

When Toji’s finished freshening up and loading his kids’ stuff in his truck, it’s time to bid them farewell for their departure for school. You give them final touch-ups on their hair and outfits, reminding them to be safe and not get into trouble (especially Megumi, now that the boy’s been getting into fights). And before they rush to the car, you hug them and give each a kiss on the cheek. Here is where the warm feeling inside your heart begins to deteriorate, not wanting to let them go. Yet, for their sake – and education – you release them and hope for the best.

The last to leave was Toji, who came from the kitchen to the front door with a paper plate wrapped in foil in one hand. His name is written boldly by a black Sharpie. “This fr' me?”

“No, it’s for Shiu Kong, for dealing with you all the time.” You stick your tongue out at Toji as he glares at you, not even moving out of the way while he exits through the door. “You better eat that when you get to work, you have a terrible habit of skipping lunch.”

“Whatever ya say, mom.” He pesters you with the title, knowing you’re technically not a mother anymore. Yet it only makes you smile knowing he notices your maternal side.

“Don’t forget to text me when Tsumiki’s soccer game is next week.” You watch him go down the porch stairs.

“Will do.”He whistles.

“And Toji?”

The man stops walking to turn to you, his forest green eyes fixed on you so quickly that you almost forget what you want to say. Or what you wanted to do. You place your fingers on your lips and blow a kiss with an outward gesture. It was an old habit you did whenever he left, something you can’t seem to get out of practice with. It’s embroidered in your mind at this point.

And when he catches the kiss with his free hand and places it on his chest, it makes your heart skip a beat. Toji grins, “I’ll be damned if that was fr' Shiu, too.”

You snicker with a shaken head. “Drive safe, Toji.” Closing the front door, you stand there for a while. Your smile doesn’t falter; it gets bigger as you replay the moment instead. Thinking about him, hearing him, seeing him, it all drives you crazy. And that’s a good thing��right?

“I don’t know, sounds like you still kinda care about the guy.”

“Of course I do,” So here you are, sitting in your living room enjoying the rays of the sunset decorating the space, in a video call with your best friends, Utahime and Mei Mei. You reply to the former’s comment. “Just because I don’t have the ring on my finger doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about him. I mean, he’s the father of two lovely children.”

“Shoot, you’re better than me, then.” The dark-haired woman admits. “But you’re kinda proving my point, Y/n. Even when you don’t have the ring on, you two act like the same old couple, and it’s definitely not just for the kids’ sake. Let’s be real here.”

You try to interject, but the pale-blue-haired other, Mei Mei, intervenes, “I agree. It’s one thing if you let the children stay over, but he also wanted to spend the night. Sure, he could’ve been tired from driving all day and such. However, if you’re still seeing a man for the last five years – while legally unbound – and he says he wants to spend the night under your roof, which is rare, that should ring some bells at least.”

“I know, it did…” you nod along with what your friend is saying, throwing your head back with a heavy sigh. “But it’s not like he’s never spent the night here before, nor is he banished from stepping inside.”

“Oh? Then why is this time different from the others?”

Utahime jumps in after Mei Mei’s chirp. “Yeah, you’re telling us about all these nostalgic lovey-dovey feelings as if you’re falling in love with him all over again. What, did you two have sex or something?”

An open mouth, yet no words come out, leaving you in a predicament. You could’ve just lied or swerved the subject to something else. But you didn’t. And the two women on the screen lift their brows with hooded eyes, a look meaning a thousand words. You couldn’t even explain yourself either because a sudden knock on your door captured the attention of all three of you.

You stand up and walk towards the door, your friends still on call on the phone at hand. Opening the door, you’re almost stunned to see in front of you. Tsumiki and Megumi with nervous smiles, and their father at the car collecting the same duffles bags from last night. You’re kidding.

“Hey, kids.” The two of them gulped from not calling them by their names. You bring up the phone to face the screen to them. “Say hello to Auntie Mei Mei and Utahime.” The women on the line smile and wave at the children, who sheepishly wave back.

“Hi, aunties.” Megumi greets them, and then his eyes drift back to you. “So, Y/n—“

“What did you forget this time?” Straight to the point, no room for excuses.

“It was Miki this time! She forgot her soccer cleats.” The older sibling gawks at her younger brother for calling her out.

“Tsumiki, I know you have cleats at home.”

“I do, but these are special! You bought them for my birthday, and I’ve been wearing them to every game ever since! So, I was scared when I couldn’t find them at home.” The brunette was quick to defend her stand. “Also, Dad doesn’t feel like driving up here and then back. So…can we…”

You close your eyes and bring the phone to your face to shield your vexation. Twice in a row, the sixth time this month. You can hear the giggles of your friends from the other side of the phone, adding more fuel to the fire. You don’t look up until you hear heavy footsteps on the porch, seeing Toji holding both duffle bags with a hand and shoulder. He stares at you as you stare at him, a silent conversation on how to handle this situation. And when he shrugs with lifted brows, you realize it’s no use and release the long-awaited sigh.

“….If I see one more thing being left behind here, you guys can’t come back till December, understand?” It wasn’t anything serious, but enough for the kids to know you weren’t joking. They nod their heads in unison while you roll your eyes. “Okay, get in here.” They rushed inside with gleeful laughs, the shuffling of their backpacks following along with them. Your eyes then drift to Toji as he walks up to you. “Did you forget something here, too?”

“Yeah,” you lift a brow when he drops Megumi’s bag to the floor. Before you can register his hand on your chin, you squeak when he brings his lips to yours. It lasted for seconds, but the kiss was sweet and tender, sucking on your lip before letting go with a playful bite. “Meant to give you that when you woke up. Thanks fr' the food, mama.”

Toji picks the bag up and walks inside your home to put the bags in the rooms, leaving you standing on the porch with an astounded expression. You couldn’t appropriately calibrate your thoughts until you heard faint laughs from the phone. Then, you realize your best friends witnessed the entire scene that transpired.

Utahime, with the slyest leer, was the first to say something. “Oh yeah, he laid that pipe on you good, without a doubt.”

“Mhmm,” Mei Mei agrees with a chuckle. “And I'm guessing he’s gonna do it again tonight. Isn’t that right, Y/n?”

You end the video call with a heated face. “Sh-Shut your damn mouths!!” Again, you groan into your hands before returning inside. Thank God I still have those birth control pills...

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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