#and i hated it so much i deleted it and started over and wrote this

[heeluvv]

LOVENOTES.ᐟ

pairing ᝰ.ᐟ shy! sim jaeyun x reader

warnings ᝰ.ᐟ blowjob, sub! jake, praise kink, overstimulation, etc.

natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

the first time you find one, it’s slipped between the pages of your notebook, tucked so carefully that it could have easily gone unnoticed. a small, folded piece of paper, slightly crinkled at the edges, as if whoever wrote it had second-guessed themselves a dozen times before finally mustering the courage to leave it there.

your fingers tremble slightly as you unfold it.

"you look really nice today."

it’s not signed. there’s nothing to indicate who wrote it, no distinctive handwriting that you can immediately recognize. just a simple, almost shy admission written in neat, slanted script.

you glance around the room, scanning the faces of your classmates, wondering who might be watching, waiting for your reaction. but no one meets your gaze. no one looks even remotely suspicious.

it becomes a pattern after that.

every few days, another note appears. in your locker, slipped into the pocket of your bag, between the pages of your textbook. always handwritten, always short, always unsigned.

"the way you laugh makes my whole day better."

"i wish I had the courage to talk to you."

"you’re beautiful in ways i can’t put into words."

the anonymity should make you uneasy, but it doesn’t. there’s something so earnest about them, so completely genuine, that all you feel is warmth spreading through your chest each time you find a new one.

and then, you start to notice.

the way jake stares a little too long when he thinks you aren’t looking. the way he fidgets with the sleeves of his hoodie whenever you walk into the room. the way his face turns an unmistakable shade of red if you so much as smile in his direction.

jake, who barely speaks to you, who stumbles over his words whenever you ask him a question, who always seems to be lingering near but never quite close enough.

jake, whose handwriting—now that you’re paying attention—looks an awful lot like the one on the notes you’ve been collecting.

the realization sends your heart racing. you don’t say anything at first, don’t confront him, don’t let on that you might know. instead, you watch. you notice the way his hands twitch as if resisting the urge to reach for something, the way he swallows hard when your fingers graze his as you both reach for the same book.

one day, you decide to test your theory.

you wait until class ends, until the hallway is mostly empty, until you see jake stuffing his books into his bag, his movements tense and deliberate. with a deep breath, you step closer, your fingers brushing the edge of his desk as you pass by.

“you know,” you say softly, just loud enough for him to hear, “whoever’s been leaving me those notes… i hope they know i’d really like to meet them.”

his hands freeze, his grip tightening on the strap of his bag. slowly, he lifts his head, and for the first time, you watch as an entire storm of emotions flickers across his face—panic, hope, something dangerously close to longing.

you let out a soft chuckle, the sound light and teasing, as you slowly made your way around his desk, closing the space between you with an easy confidence. now standing directly in front of him, you could see it clearly—the way his fingers tightened around the strap of his bag, knuckles paling as if holding on for dear life. his posture was stiff, his breath unsteady, and his eyes, wide with something between panic and anticipation, flickered up to meet yours. he looked like a deer caught in headlights, caught red-handed, though for once, it was in the best way possible.

your gaze drops briefly to the bag clutched in his hands, the very thing that exposed him, the very thing that gave away the thoughts he had so carefully tucked away in ink and paper. you tilt your head slightly, amusement dancing in your eyes as you shift your focus back to him.

"i love the way you write about me, jakey..." you murmur, voice soft but laced with something undeniably knowing, undeniably intoxicating. the new nickname rolls off your tongue so smoothly, so naturally, as if it’s always belonged to you. you watch the way his breath stutters, the way his grip on the bag falters for just a fraction of a second before tightening again, as if he’s unsure whether to pull it closer or let it slip from his grasp entirely.

you reach out with slow, deliberate movements, fingers barely brushing against his skin as you push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. the metal frames are cool under your touch, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from his flushed face. you don’t miss the way he tenses at the contact, his breath hitching, his shoulders going rigid as if the mere proximity of your hand is enough to unravel him.

the moment lingers, thick with something unspoken, something heavy. his wide, nervous eyes flicker between yours, unsure of where to look, unsure of what to do with himself. and maybe it’s that uncertainty, that helplessness, that makes your stomach tighten, makes heat coil low in your abdomen. because he’s so easy to tease, so easy to break down with just the right touch, just the right words.

your hand remains close, the space between you nearly nonexistent now, your face mere inches from his. he smells good—clean, warm, faint traces of something familiar that only makes you want to lean in even further. your lips curl into something wicked, something teasing, as you let out a soft hum, watching the way he swallows thickly, his fingers twitching slightly where they rest against his lap, as if unsure whether to move or stay perfectly still.

"what's wrong, jakey?" you purr, voice dripping with amusement, with mock concern. your tone is light, playful, but your eyes say something else entirely—something darker, something knowing. you drink in his reaction, how he squirms under your gaze, how he shifts slightly in his seat as if trying to escape the intensity of the moment.

and god, you love it. love the way he looks at you, love the way he stammers, love the way he seems so completely at your mercy. it’s intoxicating, so much so that you feel the heat pooling between your legs, a slow, aching throb that only grows the longer you watch him squirm.

your fingers find their way into his hair, burying themselves in the soft, fluffy strands as if they belong there, as if they were always meant to tangle and twist in the dark locks. you take your time, twirling the strands lazily around your fingers, feeling their silky texture between each gentle tug. the motion is slow, deliberate, almost hypnotic, and yet, it’s nothing compared to the way your eyes never leave his.

he’s frozen, wide-eyed and breathless, his lips parting slightly as if he wants to say something—anything—but the words never come. maybe it’s because your touch is too much, too intimate, too intoxicating. or maybe it’s the way you tilt your head slightly, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you lean in just enough for your breath to fan against his flushed skin.

"you want me, jakey?" you murmur, voice dripping with a teasing lilt, each syllable slow, savoring the moment. you don’t need his answer—you already know. it’s written all over him, from the way his body tenses beneath your touch to the way his fingers curl helplessly against his thighs, unsure whether to grab onto something or keep trembling in place.

your lips ghost over his cheek, barely grazing the flushed skin before dragging toward his ear, slow and torturous. the warmth of your breath sends a visible shiver down his spine, and when you finally let your lips brush against the sensitive shell of his ear, it’s like he completely unravels.

a soft, broken whimper escapes him, followed by a quiet, shuddering breath as his body betrays him, squirming, pressing further into his seat as if trying to ground himself. his grip tightens against the fabric of his pants, knuckles white, every muscle in his body strained as he struggles to maintain some semblance of composure.

but it’s useless—you can feel it, see it, the way he’s already falling apart from something as simple as your touch, your voice, your lips barely even touching him. and god, you love it. you love the way he melts under you, love the way he reacts, so sweet, so helpless. it only makes you want to push further, to see just how much more he can take before he completely breaks.

"please... please..." he whimpered, voice trembling, thick with desperation. his breath hitched as his hips instinctively bucked, the fabric of his pants doing little to hide the way his cock twitched, aching for attention—aching for you. he was restless, every muscle in his body coiled tight with anticipation, needing more, needing anything you were willing to give him.

"hmm, you've been such a good boy, jakey..." you cooed, voice dripping with sweet amusement as you let your fingertips trace lightly over his clothed thighs, feeling the tension beneath them. with a slow, deliberate movement, you gripped the arms of his chair and pushed it back, creating just enough space for you to sink down onto your knees before him. the sight of him like this—eyes glassy with lust, lips parted, breath shaky—only fueled your desire to tease him even further.

your hands roamed, starting at his thighs, kneading the firm muscle beneath your palms before sliding up, up, towards his waist. you could feel the heat radiating from him, his body reacting to your every touch. with a slow, torturous motion, you let your fingers ghost back down, stopping just before where he needed you most. his breath came out in shallow pants, his fingers gripping the armrests so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"you want this really bad, jakey?" you murmured, voice low, sultry, teasing as your gaze dropped to the straining bulge in his pants. he let out a desperate little whine, shifting in his seat as though that might somehow alleviate the throbbing ache between his legs. his need was palpable, his body screaming for you even when his words failed him.

your fingers trailed up to his zipper, slow and deliberate, the sound of metal teeth parting filling the air as you dragged it down with agonizing ease. his breath hitched, body tensing beneath your touch, every fiber of his being reacting to the way your fingers brushed against him—light, teasing, knowing.

his thighs twitched, his hips shifting as he tried to hold himself still, but the anticipation was too much, too overwhelming. he squirmed, his breath coming out in broken, needy gasps, chest rising and falling rapidly as you took your time, relishing the way he unraveled right in front of you.

"please... y/n..." he whimpered, voice strained, thick with desperation. the sound sent a thrill down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the way his resolve was crumbling, piece by piece. he was so vulnerable like this—so beautifully, helplessly desperate for your touch.

your hands moved with a teasing slowness as you hooked your fingers around the waistband of his pants, dragging them down inch by inch. the fabric clung to him, as if even his clothes refused to part with the heat radiating off his body. you could feel how tense he was, how his muscles flexed beneath your fingertips, his thighs trembling ever so slightly as you peeled away the final barrier keeping him from you.

his boxers slipped down in the same motion, and the moment they were low enough, his cock sprang free, slapping back against his abdomen with a soft, almost lewd sound. the sight alone made your breath catch—so hard, so flushed, twitching with every tiny movement, as if aching for any kind of relief.

a choked moan escaped his lips, his head tipping back against the chair, fingers digging into the chair as he tried to ground himself against the intensity of it all. he was completely exposed to you now, vulnerable and needy, his entire body betraying just how badly he wanted this—wanted you.

your fingers wrapped around his length, warmth radiating from him, his skin burning hot beneath your touch. the moment you made contact, a sharp gasp tore through his lips, followed by a broken whine that sent shivers straight down your spine. he was already so worked up, so desperate—his cock twitching in your grip, thick beads of precum spilling from the swollen tip, trailing down in glistening strands. the sight alone made your mouth water, the way it throbbed, the way his body reacted to even the slightest touch.

his hands flew back, fingers gripping onto the edge of the desk behind him, knuckles turning white as he tried to ground himself. his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, his lips parting as more sounds spilled from him—needy, unfiltered, shameless moans that only made your desire to ruin him even stronger.

"f-fuck... y/n..." he whimpered, voice cracking, hips instinctively bucking up into your hand, chasing even the slightest bit of friction.

your grip tightened just a little, testing, teasing, watching as his whole body tensed at the sensation. you started slow, agonizingly slow, your fingers stroking him in soft, deliberate movements, dragging up from the base, squeezing lightly just under the tip before gliding back down. each stroke had him gasping, his thighs trembling on either side of you, his entire body completely at your mercy.

"so fucking big, jakey..." you murmured, voice laced with both admiration and teasing, your thumb circling the tip, spreading the precum that dripped so generously from him.

his head tipped back against the chair, mouth falling open as a deep, shaky moan left him. he looked so wrecked already, so beautifully desperate, his body betraying just how much he wanted—no, needed—your touch.

your hands moved faster now, each stroke slick and effortless, his cock completely coated in his own precum, the lewd wet sounds of it filling the space between you. the way it dripped down, pooling at the base, only fueled the heat simmering in your core, making you tighten your grip just enough to make him shudder.

"y/n—!.." he choked out, voice breaking into a desperate whine as his head fell back against the chair, exposing the long column of his throat. his eyes screwed shut, lips parted, breath coming out in sharp, uneven pants, his whole body trembling beneath your touch. his fingers clawed at the desk behind him, gripping the edge like it was the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart.

"you're doing so good, baby... fuck..." you purred, voice thick with hunger, your eyes drinking in every little detail—the way his brows knitted together in pleasure, the way his muscles tensed with every stroke, the way his thighs quivered on either side of you, completely at your mercy.

but what really drove you insane was the way he whined for more, how his body instinctively chased your touch, his hips stuttering forward despite how hard he tried to keep still. you could feel him twitch in your palm, his need growing, his body on the verge of breaking under the intensity of it all.

his hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat, the flushed color of his cheeks making him look so utterly wrecked, so beautiful like this—falling apart for you, because of you.

your tongue flicked out, barely ghosting over his swollen tip before pressing flat against it, collecting the thick beads of precum that had pooled there. the taste was intoxicating—warm, slightly salty, completely addictive—and you let out a soft hum of satisfaction as you savored it. the moment your tongue made contact, a loud, broken moan ripped from his throat, his hips jerking up involuntarily, as if his body was begging for more before his mind could even catch up.

his thighs trembled beneath your touch, muscles flexing as you dragged your tongue down the underside of his length, tracing along the prominent vein that pulsed with every rapid beat of his heart. slow, deliberate, teasing. you took your time, savoring the way his cock twitched in response to every flick of your tongue, every wet kiss you left against his burning skin. when you reached the base, you pressed your lips there, sucking lightly before dragging your tongue back up, tracing the same path until you reached the tip once more.

without warning, you took him into your mouth, the heat of it enveloping his sensitive tip as your lips wrapped around him. his reaction was immediate—a sharp gasp, followed by a low, shuddering moan as his hands instinctively shot to the desk behind him, fingers curling around the edge like he was trying to keep himself grounded.

your tongue swirled around his tip as you sucked, hollowing your cheeks, creating just the right amount of pressure to have him unraveling beneath you. your hands weren’t idle either—one gripped the base of his cock, stroking in tandem with the rhythm of your mouth, while the other pressed against his thigh, feeling the way it tensed under your touch.

"shit, shit, shit—y/n!" he gasped, voice high and desperate, his entire body shaking. "too much… please!"

but even as he begged, his hips twitched forward, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to pull away or push deeper into your warmth. his body was betraying him, chasing the pleasure even as his mind tried to resist, and you loved every second of it.

his glasses slipped from his face, tumbling onto the floor with a soft clatter, but he couldn’t bring himself to care—not when his entire body was shaking, overwhelmed by the unbearable heat coiling in his stomach, the tight knot threatening to snap at any moment. his breath came out in ragged, uneven pants, chest rising and falling rapidly as he teetered on the very edge, his thighs trembling beneath your touch.

"fuck… fuck…" his voice was wrecked, breaking apart with every syllable, barely able to form the words through the waves of pleasure crashing over him. "y/n, can i cum? please… c-can i—i?" he whined, his voice raw with desperation, his body completely at your mercy. small, glistening tears slipped down his flushed cheeks, his brows knitted together as he looked down at you, his eyes glassy, pleading.

the second you gave him a nod, the smallest signal of permission, his control shattered entirely.

his head tipped back, his lips parting in a loud, unrestrained moan as his body seized, completely undone beneath your touch. your hands moved even faster, stroking him with a relentless pace, and at the same time, you took him deeper into your mouth, feeling his cock twitch violently against your tongue.

"ah—ahh, fuck—!"

his entire body tensed as pleasure crashed through him like a tidal wave, his hands scrambling for anything to hold onto as his release hit him with overwhelming force.

hot, thick ropes of cum filled your mouth in an instant, the sheer amount catching you off guard as you tried to swallow, a few soft coughs escaping you as you struggled to take it all. he was gasping above you, moaning brokenly, completely spent, his body still shaking as aftershocks coursed through him.

his glasses lay forgotten on the floor, his mind hazy, clouded with pleasure. the only thing grounding him now was you—your touch, your warmth, the way you were still there, taking everything he gave you.

after finally catching your breath, you lifted your gaze to meet his, watching the way his dazed, unfocused eyes struggled to stay open. his chest rose and fell in rapid, uneven breaths, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of his release. he looked completely wrecked—his hair damp with sweat, sticking messily to his forehead, his lips parted as he tried to steady himself.

but you weren’t done with him yet.

no, you wanted him to remember this for the rest of his life.

your fingers wrapped around his length once more, feeling how sensitive he had become, the way he twitched helplessly in your grasp. the second you moved, stroking him with slow, deliberate motions, a broken whimper tore from his throat. his whole body jolted, thighs quivering as the overstimulation sent sharp jolts of pleasure straight through him.

"w-wait, i—" his voice was barely coherent, breathy and wrecked, his head lolling to the side as he tried to process what was happening. but you didn’t give him a chance to recover, didn’t give him room to protest.

without hesitation, you leaned in and took him into your mouth once more, swallowing him down in one fluid motion until his tip nudged the back of your throat. his reaction was immediate—his body tensed so violently that his hands scrambled for something, anything to hold onto.

"ah—fuck, y/n—!" he cried out, a high, desperate moan ripping through him, his hands gripping at the desk behind him as his body writhed under your touch. he was so sensitive, every nerve in his body on fire, overwhelmed by the unbearable pleasure of being overstimulated.

his thighs tensed beneath your hands, his hips jerking up instinctively despite the way he shook uncontrollably. tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his lips trembling as he tried to form words, tried to beg—but nothing coherent came out, only broken whimpers and desperate gasps.

you could feel him throbbing against your tongue, his body completely at your mercy, and it only made you want to push him further—to drag him past his limits, make him drown in pleasure until he couldn’t think of anything else but you.

and by the way his body continued to tremble, the way his voice cracked as he moaned your name, you knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

and you loved every second of it.

"y/n! i—i can't!" he cried out, voice cracking under the weight of overwhelming pleasure. his words came out breathless, barely coherent between the sharp, desperate gasps that spilled from his lips. his body trembled violently, his back arching slightly as he writhed beneath your touch, every nerve in his body on fire.

but his pleas only fueled you further, only made you more determined to push him past his breaking point, to make him feel nothing but you.

his moans grew louder, more broken, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe through the overstimulation. his hands clawed at the surface behind him, fingers curling into helpless fists, unsure whether to push you away or pull you closer. his thighs quivered beneath your grip, his entire body fighting against the pleasure that was consuming him whole.

"p-please, too much—" he whined, voice high-pitched, almost desperate, but you could feel how his cock twitched in your mouth, how his body betrayed him despite his pleas.

you weren’t stopping. not when he was falling apart so beautifully for you.

the more he gasped, the more he moaned, the more you wanted to ruin him completely, to make sure he would never forget the way you made him feel tonight. and by the way he trembled, the way he clung to anything that could ground him, you knew he was close—so close to breaking, so close to surrendering entirely to you.

"shit! oh my god—y/n!" he screamed, his voice breaking into a desperate, uncontrollable sob of pleasure as his entire body convulsed beneath you.

his back arched off the chair, his thighs trembling so violently that he nearly lost his footing, hands flying to grip the desk behind him in a feeble attempt to ground himself. but it was useless—he was far too gone, drowning in the unbearable intensity of his release, completely at your mercy as pleasure wracked through him like a powerful, unrelenting wave.

his cock twitched violently in your mouth, and within seconds, he was spilling over once more—hot, thick ropes of cum flooding past your lips, the sheer amount far more than before. some of it trickled down your chin, dripping in sinful streaks as you tried to swallow, but there was just too much.

his moans turned into high, broken cries, the overstimulation sending him spiraling into a place of pure ecstasy, his body shaking so hard that his knees nearly buckled. tears pricked at the corners of his tightly shut eyes, his lips trembling as he gasped for air between moans, his chest rising and falling erratically.

"f-fuck, oh my god," he whimpered, voice raw and strained, his mind completely fogged over with pleasure. his fingers twitched against the desk, his body so spent, so overstimulated, yet still so incredibly sensitive under your touch.

his release dripped from your lips, warm and thick, and you could feel the way he shuddered at the sight, the realization that he had come so hard, so completely wrecked by your hands, your mouth, your touch.

and even as his body trembled, even as he struggled to come down from the high that had just shattered him to pieces, you knew deep down—he still wanted more.

natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ something new for sure but i just love sub jake so this was a must. hoped you enjoyed!

[shoezuki]

hi hello so for any people curious bout the dream beef i am talking about im gon chronicle it all here in a hopefully fully contextual way for both longterm weirdos and new people who dont know bout my parasocial beef w dream. ill try to keep my biases out of it somewhat but anyways,

this began with a podcast Tommyinnit and Jack Manifold have together in which they had philza as a guest. Episode 9 is currently behind a paywall on their patreon but they have a youtube channel where they post them publically as well. Not sure if they make all their episodes public eventually or not but i digress.

Twitter user _constel_ has posted 5 clips from the podcast in question that contain their discussion about dream. I have downloaded the videos but tumblr doesnt want me to put them in this post so i will try and sum up each clip as I go.

Clip 1: Phil starts talking about how once the dsmp was done people would joke about how their 'contracts' would be over and they would be allowed to talk about things behind the scenes. philza mentions the infamous philza tweet in response to dream.

for context, the main discussion is around this exchange from around february 2021, where dream 'jokingly' argues that he is responsible to tommy's high viewership on youtube:

Most of it the tweets are deleted by both parties but it was very much a whole thing. Phil has apparently joked about revealing the context of his reply 'when he retires' (mentioned clip 1).

Jack Manifold had apparently been in a call with tommyinnit when the exchange was happening and recalls tommy being extremely stressed. The context philza gives is that he was texted by tommy to look at the thread while he was going on a walk and tommy was panicking over if dream was genuine (mentioned clip 2). Philza says "I'll find out if he's fucking joking' and that he essentially vibe checked dream. Tommy also states that after the twitter exchange he legitimately wrote in his diary to never be rude to dream: "never be horrible to dream. It's not worth it. It makes me too sad". Additionally jack manifold establishes that he hated dream from the beginning, they hate each other, and that, although he acknowledges dream aided him through the dream smp, he hates how dream 'takes ownership of other people and their accomplishments because he was a guiding hand' (mentioned clip 3).

Jack manifold mentions that tommy was 16 during this exchange and philza additionally says it was out of line (Clip 4). Philza more openly talks about there being 'reds flag after red flags' with dream in clip 5.

OKAY thats honestly a vague description and theres a LOT more so watch the clips if u want. Heres another tweet 'summarizing' it as well. But anyways this of course had people talking about dream again, some people (accidentally?) acting like this is about dream smp lore, and a lot of people concerned about how tommy was afraid to upset dream and would blame himself when dream picked fights with him.

Dream's response on dreamwastaken was to tweet about how he appreciated everyone who was on the server dispite differences, as well as a zip file to download the dsmp server/world file.

Worth noting there is a limitation on how many people can download the file within 24 hours so now people are only getting an error message when trying to access it which is fucking funny. On his private he also tweeted "love and appreciate you guys <3 very happy to be uploading again :) hope to keep it rolling" (Im not cropping out the reply its funny)

Thats all hes said so far, I havent seen tommy or jack manifold talking about it either. technically it isnt outright in response to their podcast but obviously everyone is taking it as such.

final stuff/my thoughts: dream has obviously had a tendency to kinda 'take credit' for 'making' the streamers who were on the dsmp and its notable that in his tweet he still acts like his server was the reason for people's fame and relationships. Saying 'a group of creators most of which would never have collaborated under any other circumstance got together and made something really cool' is just his thinly veiled way of still taking credit for tommy's fame and the relationships he and others have made and its moronic. Not to mention dsmp was very much NOT the server that got these specific people together, i mean techno and phil met through minecraft mondays, tommy and jack manifold met both of them through smp earth i believe. Even if the dsmp wasnt a thing they probably would have collaborated with other members through mcc eventually. the idea that the dsmp was what brought them together and a bunch of minecraft clowns would 'never have collaborated under any other circumstance' is stupid.

anyways sorry this is long as shit. im going to pray dream doesnt let this go for at least 3 to 5 business days as per usual

[hitomisuzuya]

scaramouche x fem!reader. fluff. scara being drunk and in love. drunk voicemails. soft scara. college au

i have aventurine smut planned, but i have wanted to write something like this for a long time. the lyrics are from somewhere only we know by keane.

scaramouche had plans to go out last night. but you didn't feel well, so you told him to go out with xiao without you. to have fun and not drink too much. he protested at first, saying "what kind of a man leaves his woman to go out when she is sick?" complete with trademark huff, and crossed arms.

scaramouche hates being without you. really, really hates it.

the next morning, feeling much better, you rolled over and grabbed your phone to check the time. you discovered you had several voicemails. you'd been so deep asleep that you didn't hear the phone ring.

they were all from scaramouche.

"fuck, you'd better be asleep, kitten," came scaramouche's very slurred voice, "i really hate the song playing. i wish you were here so my ears aren't bleeding alone. i don't know why xiao fucking loves this song. it's stupid pop crap. i miss you. fuck, i am so in love with you. you should feel my heart. it goes skip, skip when i think about you. it's kind of annoying--" end of voicemail.

he must've hit the recording limit.

"hey kitten, listen, it's a song you like. more pop crap, but the piano is kind of clutch, not gonna lie," you heard shuffling for a moment, he must've been taking his phone from his ear and holding it out so you could hear the song. after a few moments of hearing shrilled music, he must've put the phone back to his ear. "fuck what's it called again?" you heard some drunk sounding humming before the voicemail stopped.

smiling, you went onto the third voicemail. you heard somewhere only we know by keane come through the speaker again. only this time, you heard scaramouche's slurred voice singing the song to you. "i felt the earth beneath my feet. sat by the river and it made me complete. you make me feel complete."

scaramouche stumbled and hummed adorably to the part of the song he didn't know. your smile widened. "oh simppllee thing, where have you gone..yeah, kitten where are you? i miss you. i'll be he medicine that makes you feel better. fuck how does this song go?" the voicemail ended.

the fourth one immediately started with scaramouche singing, more slurred than before. you found out later from xiao that he'd fed the jukebox at the bar with 5 bucks to play somewhere only we know over and over so he could call you back to sing the parts of the song he wanted to sing to you.

"i'm getting old and i need something to rely onnnnnn. fuck hold on, i wanted to sing this part to you first..no, did you hear the made me feel complete part? you make me feel complete," you heard drinking noises and a heavy sigh.

"dude, scara, she is probably sleeping. you are going to wake her up," xiao's voice interrupted.

"fuck off, you shithead! i'm serenading my kitten! go put another dollar in the jukebox, i'm not done, she needs to hear this!" the voicemail ended.

the last voicemail started with him humming somewhere only we know. "i need something to rellyy on." at this point, he was just singing random lyrics. "wait, hold on..made me feel complete. something to rely on..xiao! xiao! these fucking lyrics, these fuckers really wrote this whole song for her," there was some shuffling noises. "xiao, we gotta go fucking kill keane!"

he was deadass convinced the band was in love with you and wrote the song for you so they could steal you away from him.

later that day, you played the voicemails for scaramouche. 'oh my god..i got so drunk last night" he said, dismayed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

"what? i thought the voicemails were sweet," you said, grinning at him. you gave him a quick kiss on his lips. "i'm keeping them." you had to say that before he asked you to delete them.

he sighed. "fine. keep them. not another soul hears them," he hissed. he was incapable of saying no to you.

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

21 Days !NSFW!

Avenger!Agatha x Avenger!Reader

Word count: 10,435

Content warnings: MDNI; literally this oneshot is centered around sex and sex toys, sex ban, heavy smut, breeding kink (ofc), tummy bulge, size kink, mommy kink, lots of eye contact, reader gets fucked on a Steinway piano, crying kink, scissoring???but with a vibrator???, reader's blindfolded, hand holding, slight choking, a bit of overstimulation, squirting

Summary: With 3 weeks left until your wedding, Agatha comes up with a fun little idea for the both of you to refrain from any sexual activities until the wedding night.

A/N: Hi hi!! I have a bunch of stuff going on! I'm moving to Miami next weekend, so there will probably be one last oneshot posted after this. It'll be a part 2 to Snacks, Candy, and Prenatal Vitamins.

This is a really long oneshot. On Thursday I reread everything I wrote from the bachelorette party to the wedding and realized I hated all 3,565 words. So, I deleted them and rewrote it. It quite literally felt like I was writing this for 21 days. The things I do...Anyway I love you guys! Thank you so much for your support on everything, and I hope you enjoy! Also I’m making a tag list so lmk if you wanna be a part of it!

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Tag list: @sweetmidnights

3 weeks. 21 days. 30,240 minutes. 1,814,400 seconds.

You’ve had long weeks before, but these three weeks have been the absolute hardest of your very long life. When Agatha had proposed the idea to you, you were on board–excited even.

The last three weeks leading up to your wedding are supposed to be filled with nail appointments and last minute preparation.

Not this.

But, god, did you love the feeling and anticipation.

March 23, 2030

3 weeks before the wedding

It’s a quiet Saturday evening at your house in Westview–a stark contrast to the Tower back in New York City. Agatha slumps down on the couch beside you. She’s quiet. Too quiet. 

But you don’t acknowledge it. Instead, you continue to read your book in silence.  

She leans into you, resting her head on your shoulder. A deep sigh leaves her and you continue ignoring her. Her hand starts to run up and down your thigh and she sighs again.

You lower your book and turn your head, raising an eyebrow at her. “Can I help you?”

Agatha lifts her head and smiles. “You can, actually,” she says. And you note that mischievous look immediately. Her eyes narrow and you know she’s concocting a plan. “You know,” she says, hand patting your thigh, “our wedding is in three weeks…”

“Yes…and?”

“And,” she continues, “I was thinking we could have some fun with these last few weeks…”

She bites her lips and fingers trail over your shoulder, eyes looking you up and down. You set your book down on the side table and look at her suspiciously. “What kind of fun?”

Her voice is low and gravelly–that tone that always gets you going. “Well, maybe we could completely refrain from any se–”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” you say. “You won’t be able to last.”

She sits up straight, jaw dropped. “I won’t be able to last?” When you nod she scoffs. “Oh, okay. You won’t be able to last!” 

“Please!” you bluster. “I can last!”

Agatha rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, grinning. “After last night, I wouldn’t be so sure.”

You grab a pillow and start hitting her with it, laughing with her before she finally snatches it from you. You squeal and giggle, begging her to stop, and when she does, she immediately pins you down.

As you catch your breath, you huff out a laugh and she kisses you. “Just think about it,” she murmurs, leaning in close. “Three weeks. No sex. No masturbating–”

“No masturbating?” you cry.

“No masturbating,” she repeats and gives you a pointed look. “But, imagine…in three weeks. The anticipation. The excitement. After all the wedding revelry…getting to fuck you so hard that you almost pass out.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” You look at her, swishing your lips back and forth. “Sure, why not?” She kisses you again and you sigh. “So, no sex. No masturbating. What about making out?”

Agatha sits up, letting go of your hands but still straddling you. Her fingers trail down down your chest and underneath your shirt, nails lightly grazing your torso. “Hmmm…Yes. Making out is allowed. It’ll get us going even more.”

She downs, her grin nothing but sinister as you smile and shake your head, arms wrapping around her. “Oh, you are mean.”

“And you love it,” she murmurs.

“I do,” you sigh, receiving a kiss from her. “I really do.” As the soft kisses grow in intensity, you pull away and narrow your eyes. “So, does this start now, or at midnight?”

With no hesitation, she kisses you again. “Midnight. Absolutely midnight.”

“Oh, good,” you huff. “Let’s go upstairs. Now.”

Agatha stands and takes your hand, running up the stairs as you both laugh. Clothes are discarded on the way to your room–shirts on the stairs, pants and socks in the hallway, a bra here, underwear there. By the time you’re thrown onto the unmade bed, you’re both completely naked.

And by the time you’re done, it’s almost 9pm. You sigh contentedly as Agatha places kisses on your neck. Her weight on top of you is comforting, and your fingers trail up and down her arms as her kisses travel to your lips. 

Agatha lets out a pleased hum and then pulls away, just enough for your noses to brush. “What do you want to do for dinner?” she asks quietly, kissing you again.

“I think we just ate pretty good,” you say, giving her a sly grin. “Ow!” She pinches your hip hard and you laugh. “That hurt! It’s nine o’clock. What’s gonna be open, other than bars?”

Agatha leans over you on her side, resting on her elbow. She’s thinking hard and her hand rests on your torso, thumb stroking the skin softly. “You’re right, this isn’t New York City…”

“It’s not,” you agree. “It’s a very small town in New Jersey.”

“There’s a Taco Bell twenty minutes away,” she suggests.

You raise an eyebrow. “Taco Bell? Agatha, the last time you had Taco Bell while sober, you said it was gross and way too greasy.”

“No I didn’t!” she scoffs. “I like their…uhh…quesadillas.”

“Alright,” you say, looking at her suspiciously. You kiss her as you sit up and squeeze her hand. “I’ll go get cleaned up.”

The drive to Taco Bell is quiet. Agatha’s hand rests on your thigh as you drive, and when you’re about half-way there, you feel her eyes on you.

You turn your hand to glance at her. “What?” 

“I love you,” she says softly, turning her head to look out the windshield.

You glance at her again as her thumb strokes your thigh. “I love you too,” you mutter, cheeks flushing.

When you arrive at Taco Bell, Agatha groans. “Jesus Christ, why are there so many damn people? Is all of New Jersey here?”

The soft look she gave you in the car was completely gone now. You pull in her close by the waist with a comforting hand on her back as you stand in line. “We can always go through the Drive-Thru.”

“Hell no,” she mutters. “They always rush through and then get our order wrong.”

“It’ll be quicker,” you say. And when she relents, you drag her out of the store and back into the car. The Drive-Thru line isn’t as long as the line inside, and when the girl in the speaker gives you a couple minutes you look at Agatha. “Do you know what you want?”

She huffs, “The chicken bowl–no beans. They can’t screw that up, can they?”

“Be nice,” you hiss. When you get home, food in hand, Agatha goes straight upstairs and you follow.

In bed, with the TV on as background noise, you both eat your late dinner.

“Jen is getting on my last nerve,” Agatha says through a mouthful of food. “I’m this close to uninviting her from the wedding.”

“You’re not uninviting her, Agatha,” you say. “She’s been very helpful with the planning.”

The two of you sit side-by-side in bed with discarded Taco Bell on your nightstand, and your head on her shoulder as you watch TV. You have no idea what she turned on–some random thriller movie, maybe. Your mind wanders to all the years before–the ones you spent with her and the painful ones after you left her, how you met–and there’s one question on your mind.

“Agatha?” you say. “I have no clue how I went this long without asking you, b–”

“Probably because I have my tongue down your throat every opportunity I get,” she grins, eyes still on the TV. 

“Anyway,” you continue. “When I couldn't find you on the Titanic…where were you?”

“Sweetheart, I feel like you’ve known me long enough to know the answer to that,” she scoffs, her fingers running through your hair. “If I had known you were a witch too, I would’ve taken you with me. I only knew you for four days, though. I didn’t know if I could trust you. But even if I had asked, I know you would’ve stayed behind to help.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, and she kisses your head. You look up at her with a soft smile, but a teasing look in your eyes. “So, if you weren’t in a lifeboat, that means you were only on the Carpathia–”

“Shut up,” Agatha groans dramatically.

You smile brightly now, moving to straddle her hips. Your arms wrap around her neck and you kiss her. “You were only on the Carpathia because you wanted to make sure I was okay. Four days in and you were already–” “Yes,” she blurts out. “Okay? Yes. Four days in and I already cared about you. You’re not just useful for sex, okay?”

“Oh, how flattering, Miss Harkness,” you swoon before smiling and kissing her. “I still haven’t forgiven you for making me late with Madeleine Astor’s tea.”

“Oh, poor baby,” Agatha pouts, her voice condescending. “How can I ever make it up to you?”

You purse your lips, looking up as if you’re thinking hard. Your fingers trace over her shoulders and slip beneath her robe. Your voice is coy as your other hand plays with her hair, eyes avoiding her gaze. “Well…there’s less than an hour left until midnight, so maybe we can utilize the time wisely…”

Your eyelids flutter open against the morning sun and you groan, rolling over to face Agatha. Your arm drapes over her waist and your legs tangle with hers, and when you open your eyes again she’s still asleep–or so you thought.

Her eyes crack open and she gives you a sleepy smile. “I can feel you staring.”

“This is going to be the longest three weeks of my life,” you mumble before kissing her. You’re already aching after seeing her, and you end up straddling her waist. Placing small kisses on her neck, you groan, “How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when you’re lying next to me naked, bathed in the morning light?”

You lift your head up and sigh dramatically, completely laying on top of her. Agatha’s voice is hoarse from sleep and her nails run up and down your back soothingly. “Not even ten hours in and you’re already caving.” 

“I’m not caving,” you say. “Just complaining. This is the worst idea you’ve ever had. And you’ve had a lot.”

Sunday morning goes by quickly and soon you’re on the road back to the Tower. 

“I wanna stop at the store on the way back,” Agatha says as she merges lanes to take the exit.

You let out an amused hum, not looking up from your phone. “Why? Are you getting a safe for our collection of sex toys?” Agatha doesn’t respond and you look up quickly, jaw dropping. “Oh, my god! Are you actually?” 

“Where else would we put them?” Agatha tries to reason. 

“I–Well…” You really didn’t have a clue. A whole drawer in your dresser is filled with them. And you know that if they’re not locked away, one of you will cave sooner or later. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

Inside Walmart, you mosey through an aisle that’s nothing but safes. “This is insane!” you gape. “A whole aisle of nothing but safes?” You lower your voice, leaning in towards Agatha. “Does everyone lock their sex toys away before their wedding?”

“No,” she sighs. “I think we’re the only ones kinky enough to do that.” Her eyes scan the shelves and she reaches for a decent sized box. “What about this one?”

As she looks over the product information on the box, you contemplate it. “I dunno…do you think it’s big enough?”

“Maybe,” Agatha says, looking up from the words to grin. “But if it’s not, I think some toys left out could make it even more enticing.” Her eyes get dark and her voice lowers. “You know how much I love seeing you squirm…”

Your cheeks get hot and your mouth opens to respond, but no words come out. Your jaw stiffens under Agatha’s amused look. “Let’s go,” you say, voice tight as you turn on your heel and walk away quickly.

“Why do you have a safe?”

In the lobby of Stark Tower, Natasha is leaving just as you’re both entering. Without blinking an eye, Agatha shrugs, saying, “No reason,” and keeps walking to the elevator. 

Upstairs, in your shared walk-in closet, Agatha unboxes the safe. 

You’re on your knees and you open the bottom drawer, meeting the numerous amount of sex toys in your collection. You sigh, shoulders drooping as you hand them to Agatha, a few at a time. “This is the most painful thing I’ve ever done.”

“Just think about the finish line,” she says in a sing-song voice, looking back at you with a smile. She pauses, her lips curling into that mischievous grin and her voice lowering into that seductive tone that always drives you crazy. “Oh, look at you…I just love it when you’re on your kne–”

“Stop it!” you cry, hitting her leg with one of the many vibrators in your collection as she laughs.

After a tedious game of Tetris, Agatha cheers. “Look at that! They all fit!” She shuts the safe and a loud beep sounds before the locking mechanism takes place. Agatha turns around, leaning against the dresser the safe is on. “We need to hide this pamphlet. It has the code on it.”

“Well, neither of us should hide it,” you say, standing up. “Then we’d know where it is. That would be cheating.”

She gasps and grins, slinking closer to you with her arms crossed. “You’re such a good girl when y–”

You cover your ears quickly, “La la la! I’m not listening!” You leave the closet and rush out of your bedroom with Agatha hot on your heels and laughing. “You need to stop that! Let’s go find Wanda.”

“Ugh, why Wanda?” Agatha groans as you get on the elevator.

As you press the button for the lounge, you sigh. “Well, she’s one of my closest friends, and I know she won’t ask questions.”

When the elevator doors open to the lounge, there are three other people with Wanda–the worst one being Tony as he narrows his eyes at the way you look nervous.

“What’s up?” he asks as the two of you walk over.

“Nothing!” you answer quickly–too quickly. “Wanda, can we talk with you…in private?”

Wanda looks around, “Um…yeah, I guess.”

The silence in the elevator is thick and awkward. When you arrive on her floor, she opens the door to her bedroom and Agatha wastes no time. “We need you to hide this manual.”

“What?” Agatha hands her the pamphlet and Wanda scrunches her nose, taking it and flipping through it. “Why do you need me to hide a safe manual?”

You and Agatha exchange looks and while she remains stone faced, you can’t help but look sheepish. “I don’t…wanna say,” you mutter.

Wanda narrows her eyes before a look of realization dawns on her, “Is it for–oh, my god. Are you…” She lowers her voice as if anyone would overhear her. “Are you locking up your sex toys?” she asks.

“Yes!” you blurt out, and Agatha rolls her eyes. “Yes, we are–we have. It’s until our wedding.” 

Wanda continues flipping through the manual, “So, is it like, a total sex ban–”

“I thought you said she wouldn’t ask questions,” Agatha says, arms crossed as she turns to you.

Wanda sighs, “Wow, I knew you guys were kinky, but this is–”

“Alright, we’re leaving now!” you pipe, and grab Agatha’s hand to pull her out of the room. “Come on! Let’s go!”

The first week goes by fairly quickly. Many times, you and Agatha found yourselves in petty arguments with each other. And it was even noticed one night at a team dinner.

“Can you pass me the salt?” you ask her, and when she does, she only passes the salt by itself–leaving the pepper by itself. “You didn’t pass the pepper too.”

“You didn’t ask for the pepper,” Agatha says.

“It doesn’t matter,” you argue, dropping your fork on the plate with a clatter.. “The salt and pepper should always stay together!” Multiple team members stop their conversations and turn towards you. “We’ve known each other for 118 years! I’ve told you this so many times!” Your voice starts to rise with each word that follows. “You always keep the troops together!”

And later that night, as if you weren’t just arguing in front of everyone over something so stupid, you find yourself in bed, straddling her lap. Your hands roam one another as you kiss her hard, chests heaving and fingers digging into skin. 

“This is the worst–” You kiss her. “–Fucking idea–” Another kiss. “–You’ve ever had.”

Agatha breathes heavily in your mouth as she chuckles, “Oh, please, you can’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.”

She kisses you softly and you shiver beneath her touch. “I need you to touch me,” you breathe. “I need you to touch me so badly.”

Her fingers creep up your thighs and you whimper as she kisses the corner of your mouth. You can practically feel yourself drip into your underwear as you beg under your breath, “Please, please, please…”

Her fingers dip beneath the hem of your pajama pants, very lightly swiping over your underwear. “Ohh…” Her voice is low and raspy. “A little bit of kissing and you’re already this wet. This is so fun.”

Your head drops onto her shoulder as your arms fold in between you and you whine. “This is the worst.” You sit up as she removes her hand, and you huff. But there isn’t anger or frustration in your eyes. No, it’s sadness and desperation, and you pout as she giggles. “This is the absolute worst. I’m going to take a cold shower.” And before Agatha can even speak you glare at her, “And no, you cannot join me.”

And it wasn’t just you that was suffering. 

“Why did I wanna do this?” Agatha groans one night. You’re both in the bathroom doing your nightly routines–only this time, Agatha is standing beside you as you wash your face, ranting about the entire thing with dramatic hand gestures. “This was so stupid! All I want to do is have sex with you, but I can’t!”

“Well, technically–”

“No!” she snaps. “We’re not going to break this streak! We’ve been doing so well.”

You pat your face dry and when those words leave her mouth, you start grinning. You look at her with the soft, pleading eyes that you usually would when begging. 

Agatha looks at you, nostrils flared and her eyes ablaze. “Don’t,” she mutters dangerously.

“Have I been doing good for you, Mommy?” you ask, your voice syrupy sweet as you get closer. “Have I been a good gi-”

“I’m going to start smoking again!” Agatha calls back as she rushes out of the room.

“No, you are not!” you shout, running after hert.

“Yes, I am!”

“Agatha Harkness!” you say, hands on your hips as she lays face down on the bed. “There’s two weeks left! And if I catch you smoking again, I’ll glue myself to your hip so you can’t go anywhere without me!”

When you get a response, Agatha doesn’t lift her head, instead choosing to mumble whatever words into her pillow.

Yes, the first week and a half have been hard, but the second half might as well be torture. 

There are eight days left. Eight. 

You run through every floor in the Tower. You tear apart the entire kitchen, look in every pot and pan, tupperware containers, anywhere that manual could be. You even check in the strangest places–Tony’s lab, every bathroom you have access to, the lobby, you even went into the elevator and removed a panel so you could climb in and see if she hid it there (she didn’t).

In your desperation, you were even searching your own room, hoping that somehow Wanda hid it there. You check in your bedside drawers, in your bathroom cabinets, underneath the clothes in your dressers, and while in the closet you even tried opening the safe with magic.

Now, you’re under your bed, legs sticking out as you search through shoe boxes and plastic bins of out-of-season clothes. 

“Hiya, hon.”

Startled, you crack your head on the boards of the bed frame. “Son of a bitch!” You flip over onto your back and scooch out from under the head. “Hi. I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

Agatha stands over you, head tilted and arms crossed as she looks at you curiously. “Mhm…whatcha doin’?”

“I–Um…” You stand up, rubbing the spot on your head you hit. “Nothing–”

“You were looking for the manual, weren’t you?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.

You gasp, “No, I was not! How could you accu–yes. I was looking for the manual.” You watch as she shakes her head slowly and grins, and then her tongue pokes into her cheek. You rush forward, voice shaking, “You don’t understand, Agatha.” Your hands grip her shoulders and the desperation in your voice is loud. “I’m ovulating! You know how I get! I tried opening the safe with magic and it didn’t work!”

Agatha nods her head, “I know. I had Wanda put a spell on it when you went out to lunch with Steve and Nat yesterday.”

You whimper, head ducking into her chest as your hands grip her shoulders tighter. “I’m going insane, Aggie!” you cry. 

Agatha takes both of your hands and removes them from her shoulders, placing kisses on both of them. You look up at her with pleading eyes and she giggles. “It’s only for eight more days.”

“I cannot last in these conditions,” you whine. Your hands slip from her grasp and cup her cheeks. You kiss her hard. “I need you to fuck me,” you beg, kissing her again. When you pull away, your teeth are clenched in frustration. “I need you to fuck a baby into me. Ruin me, Agatha. Please!”

Agatha reaches up to hold your wrists and kisses you softly. When she pulls away, she pouts in a condescending way. “Poor thing.” She reaches for your cheek and pats it twice. “You’ll survive.”

She drops her arms and walks past you as your jaw drops. While walking towards the bathroom, her hips swaying more than usual, she looks back at you with dark eyes. “I’m gonna go take a bath if you’d like to join me.”

You close your eyes and sigh before following her, completely defeated. “Okay…”

After that day, you calmed down–until the time to pack for your honeymoon came. After Wanda lifts the spell on the safe, she leaves immediately and Agatha opens it. You almost cry from the sight of your sex toys alone. It’s like you found the world's greatest treasure–like the sinful gates of Heaven were finally opening for you.

Agatha eyes you as she takes them out. “Don’t even think about it.”

“How can I not think about it?” you whine. You stand beside her, fingers trailing over her shoulder and arm as you look up at her with pleading eyes. “Please?” you ask quietly. “You don’t even have to let me finish…I just want to feel th–”

“No.”

“Please, Agatha!” you cry. “It doesn’t even have to be one of the fancy ones! A bullet! A wand! I just need to feel something!”

“Nope.” She doesn’t even look up at you as she opens the suitcase. “Definitely need to take the good strap,” she mumbles to herself. “Baby, which ones do you wanna take?”

“Surprise me,” you scowl, her back still turned to you.

Agatha looks back at you. “Don’t give me that attitude,” she scoffs. “There’s less than 48 hours left, and if you keep this up, it won’t be good for you. Now, pick out your vibrators for our honeymoon, sweetheart.”

The bachelorette party on Friday comes quickly. It’s small, with only seven of you there at your house in Westview. Tony supplied the extensive amount of alcohol while Alice, Jen, and Lilia planned the decorations, and Wanda and Natasha planned the activities. Neither you or Agatha had any part in planning. Your only job is to show up and look pretty–and the two of you do that very well.

You watch Agatha as she gets ready, and when she slips on the dress you chose for her, your jaw drops.

“Close your mouth, darling,” Agatha says, catching your eye in the mirror. “You’ll catch flies.” She turns around and you look her up and down, sighing heavily. She grins, slinging closer towards you. “24 hours, sweetheart. Be patient.”

With a kiss to the corner of your mouth, she slips out of the bathroom. On your shared bed there are two white sashes, both with the word ‘Bride’ on them.

Agatha scrunches her nose up at them. “Do we really have to wear these?”

“Jen and Wanda were very insistent on it,” you say, standing behind her and wrapping your arms around her waist. You let go and pick one of them up, draping over Agatha’s headband adjusting it. “There!” you chirp. “See? You look so cute!”

“It’s tacky,” she deadpans.

“Just wear it,” you say.”It’s just one night, and I’m wearing one too.”

When you get downstairs, you’re met with cheers and party noisemakers. Pink decorations fill the house and Agatha takes a deep breath, looking at you and then back to the coven. “Really? All pink?”

“It’s not a bachelorette party without tacky, pink decorations,” Alice says.

In the living room, you pick up an open bottle of chardonnay, pouring yourself and Agatha a glass. She takes it with a kiss on your cheek and follows you as you sit down on the couch.

Laughter drowns out whatever music is playing. You’re several rounds into a drinking game, giggling into Agatha’s shoulder. “In her defense,” you say, catching your breath, “neither of us knew the other was a witch.”

“She abandoned you on a sinking ship!” Wanda gawks. 

“I would have stayed anyway,” you shrug. “It was my job to help people.”

“I can’t believe we didn’t know you met on the Titanic,” Alice says, shaking her head in disbelief. “Now, it makes sense. They’re trauma bonded.”

Natasha sits up, taking a sip of her drink. “Not to change the subject, but I’ve been meaning to ask you two…” she says. Her eyes narrow with curiosity as she looks at you and Agatha. “Why have you two been so on edge recently? I know you bicker, but it’s been a lot worse.”

Wanda bursts out laughing and you and Agatha make eye contact, trying your best to hold in your giggles as the rest of them exchange weird looks. Your finger traces the rim of your glass and you sigh. “We’ve…been on a three week long sex ban in preparation for tomorrow night.”

Jen chokes on her drink and Nat’s eyes widen.

“You know that safe you saw us carrying?” Agatha grins. “It was for our sex toys.”

“So…” Nat looks around, choosing her words carefully. “You’ve been irritated…because neither of you were getting laid…voluntarily?”

“Yep,” Agatha says simply.

Nat points beside her to Wanda. “And…she was…in on it?”

“Yes,” you chirp. “She hid the safe manual so we couldn’t get the code until last night. Where did you hide it?”

“Oh, I threw it away,” Wanda says.

You sit up quickly. “You threw it away?”

“Yeah.”

“I climbed into the elevator shaft looking for it,” you gawk. “And this whole time, it’s been in a landfill?”

Lilia takes a sip of her wine and leans in toward Jen, her voice quiet, “They are so much worse than we thought.”

As the night progresses and you and Agatha cut yourselves off from drinks, you grow more and more tired–and so does Agatha. As you doze off on her shoulder, she shakes you awake. “Do you wanna go to bed?”

You look at your phone, and when you see it’s almost three in the morning you get up. She takes your hand and when the others see you leaving to go to bed, you get the drunken teasing.

“Big day tomorrow!”

“Harkess needs her beauty sleep!”

In your bedroom, you flop down onto the bed, groaning.

Agatha turns on the bathroom light, retrieving a pack of makeup wipes and returning to your room. “Come on,” she says, straddling your hips and pulling off your fake lashes. “I know you’re sleepy, but you need to take your makeup off.” She brings the cold wipe to your face, rubbing it over your cheeks. And before she removes your eyeshadow, she leans in close, muttering, “Close your eyes.”

She finishes with a kiss to your lips, but you don’t pull away, instead pulling her closer. When she breaks away, she feels your hands sneak under her dress and she giggles, sitting up and sliding off you. “Nice try. You have less than 24 hours.”

You groan again and she hands you a pair of pajamas. You begrudgingly put them on and brush your teeth, and when Agatha’s finished with her nightly routine, she tucks you into bed with a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be in the spare bedroom tonight. I love you.” And with a final kiss on your lips, she shuts off the light and closes the bedroom door.

As tired as you are, sleep doesn’t come easily. But when it does, it leaves you groggy and with cotton mouth when you wake up–or, in this case, are woken up. A loud knock on the door stirs you, and before you can properly wake up, Wanda and Natasha are piling through with breakfast–or brunch–with Tony following behind, holding two bottles of champagne.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes. When you tap your phone, the time shows noon. “Jesus, how are you two awake? You were wasted and up longer than I was.”

“It’s your wedding day!” Wanda chirps, handing you a latte that has the logo from your favorite coffee shop on the cup. “Here, we don’t want you being sloppy drunk tonight.”

But beside her, Natasha wears a pair of sunglasses while stirring a bloody mary with a piece of celery. Tony sets down one of the bottles of champagne on your dresser. 

“The car will be here to pick you and Harkness up at three. That’ll give everyone setting up the after-party here enough time before you’re back,” he says. “And I got you two the presidential suite at the Four  Seasons–it’s cute, it overlooks Central Park. It’s like fifteen minutes from LaGuardia so you don’t have to get up too early tomorrow.”

Wanda wiggles her eyebrows at you and you glare at her, mouthing, “Shut up.”

“After the ceremony,” Tony continues, “I’m gonna head over there and check you in. Wanda’s already given me your luggage, so everything’s taken care of.”

When he leaves to relay the same information to Agatha down the hall, Wanda opens the curtains to your room. The light pours in, illuminating the protective bag holding your wedding dress. Your chest flutters thinking about it. 118 years and it’s finally happening–from sinking ships, to wrongful sacrifices, and a test of trust on the Road, you’ve made it out unscathed. You’ve made it out together.

The three hours of showering and hair and makeup go by quickly. You stand before a cheval mirror. The clock on the wall ticks loudly and your eyes drift up to it. Two-forty five.

You take a deep breath, but it’s all so much. Emotions flood your senses, and as you look at yourself, you can’t help but feel like the most beautiful person in the world. Flowers dot your hair, adding a pop of color against the white dress. It’s simple and lightweight, with a square neckline showing off the diamond necklace that Agatha gifted you almost a century ago.

Wanda opens the bedroom door and Natasha followers her out. In the hallway, you can hear Jen, “She’s ready.”

Your heart races.

You hear the sound of heels on the old wooden floors.

“Hi.”

But the anxiety that filled your chest dissipates upon seeing her in the reflection of the cheval mirror. It’s replaced with nothing but anticipation and love, and for a moment you’re brought back to the forward deck of the Carpathia.

You turn around and your breath is taken away when you see her entirely. “Hi.”

Agatha wears a white romper. Beneath the pristine white blazer, the top dips below her chest and a white band separates it from the loose, flowing bottoms. She’s stunning. Absolutely, unequivocally beautiful.

She crosses her arms, leaning against the door frame and grinning. “Well? Give me a twirl, princess.”

Smiling, you give her a slow twirl. Agatha walks over and she stops just short of you. When you’re facing her again, her hands go to your waist, fingers brushing the exposed skin of your back. She looks so up and down, and smiles brightly. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

“I want to kiss you so badly,” you breathe, glancing at her lips and back up.

She hums. “Soon, darling.”

Your hand slides into the crook of her elbow and she escorts you out of the room. As you approach the landing of the stairs, the coven, Wanda, and Nat all look up at you in awe.

“Oh, my god!” 

“Look at them!”

“I think I’m gonna cry.”

After rounds of hugs are given, the five of them leave ahead of you just as the car arrives. Agatha helps you in and you slide all the way over. As you look out the window, your hands link in the middle seat and the feeling eases the nervousness in your stomach.

The venue is quaint. You stand side by side with Agatha in a hallway of marble and pastels. Both of you look out the french doors at the guests in the small garden who face away from you. There are barely twenty people, but every single one sitting there has impacted your life in a different way. 

“Any last-minute confessions?” Agatha grins.

“I’ve had three glasses of champagne and I’m starting to feel them,” you whisper, rushing through your words.

“I’ve had four.”

Your eyes close and you let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank god.” 

Agatha turns to look at you, smiling softly as she adjusts your necklace. “Are you ready?”

As she positions herself by your side, you slide your hand into the crook of her elbow and sigh. “Yeah…you?”

She turns her head, looking down at you, “Since 1912.”

Your head turns quickly to look at her, and you see every ounce of adoration and affection she has for you in her eyes. There’s so much weight in her gaze and you can see every year and every moment you were together–and every moment you were apart. Those 30-odd years hang in the tears she holds back, mingling with the contentment and the happiness that swells in her chest. 

118 years. 43,070 days. 6,152 weeks. 62,062,006 minutes. 3,723,720,336 seconds.

And she would go through them all again.

And so would you.

Your throat tightens and your hand squeezes her arm. You turn your head back towards the door, blinking away tears as the guests stand and the small quartet begins to play. “Okay.”

The french doors leading to the garden open and you’re both bathed in the evening light of sunset. You give her arm one last squeeze, and then with a deep breath, you take the first step.

__________

The car ride back to your home in Westview is less than an hour. With photos and actually signing your marriage license, you’re the final ones to arrive at the reception. When you walk inside, the smell of all different types of food waft in from the kitchen and your stomach growls.

“It’s quiet,” you say.

“Thank god,” Agatha mutters, and you nudge her in the side. “Oh, look, wedding presents!” She practically drags you into the dining room when she sees the pile on the table.

“Come on!” you sigh, and you take her hand. When you open the patio doors and step out in the cool evening air, you’re met with cheering. Out of the corner of your eye you catch Agatha smiling–actually smiling, ear-to-ear.

There’s about twenty more people at the reception than there were at the ceremony. As you look around at your backyard–the decorations, the warm lights, the tables, the firepit–you’re glad Agatha insisted on having the backyard renovated.

Hugs are exchanged all around, and Agatha even tolerates it this time around. When you hand her a glass of champagne, she downs it all almost immediately.

“There’s a lot of people here,” she mutters.

“You don’t have to talk to all of them,” you muse. “But you do have to sign the thank you cards.”

Music blares through the speakers as people dance and drink. At one of the tables, you sit with Agatha, laughing with Lilia and two other guests when Jen comes over and ducks her head to speak to you. “Alice just got back.”

“Where the fuck has she been?” Agatha retorts, the numerous shots she took at ‘shot o��clock’, as Billy called it, in full effect.

“She has 250 jello shots,” Jen says quietly, “and 250 pudding shots.”

“She’s forgiven,” Agatha shrugs.

And sure enough, Alice walks through the back gate carrying a blue cooler. She sets it down beside the table where at least thirty bottles of open liquor and mixers, cans of sodas, water bottles, and a hundred bottles of beer sit in an ice bath. You and Agatha get up immediately, Jen following behind you as you go over to Alice.

“Holy shit!” Agatha beams. “Did you make all of these?”

Alice huffs, hands on her hips. “Yep. I had some help from Jen and Lilia, though.”

Looking through the cooler, there’s an array of jello colors, and all different kinds of pudding flavors. You take a handful of them for yourself and Agatha looks at you, appalled. “You gonna share any of those, hon?”

You look back in the cooler, contemplating it. “Mm…No. You’ve got plenty left, honey.”

With Lilia and the two other women at the table gone, the two of you are by yourself. You try to get each jello and pudding shot down as quickly as possible, but you end up laughing as you swallow a jello shot. You start coughing, tears starting to form in your eyes as you laugh more.

Agatha’s hand comes to your back as you wipe your mouth and take a drink of water. You drunkenly giggle as she opens another jello shot and holds it up to your newly open one. “Here’s to us…” Her eyes get dark and her lips curl into that grin she gives you when only dirty thoughts enter her mind. “...And here’s to what you’ll be choking on later.”

Your cheeks go hot and your eyes are wide as you down the last jello shot.

As the night progresses, it becomes chilly. Your arms are covered in goosebumps as you stand beside Agatha, talking to a few guests. When her hand runs up and down your arm she pauses her words and looks down at you. “Jesus, hon, you’re freezing.”

“No, I’m not!” you protest. “I’m fine!”

“I would be a terrible wife to let you freeze to death at your own wedding,” she huffs. “Here.” She takes her own blazer off and practically forces it on you. It’s just slightly too big on you and she goes behind you, hands rubbing up and down on your arms as she continues talking to the people in front of you.

“This is your favorite song,” she gasps in your ear. “Do you wanna go dance?”

“Sure,” you chirp, letting her drag you to the makeshift dance floor where other people are.

One hand goes to your waist while the other grasps your hand. You smile as you place your hand on her upper back, dancing to the upbeat music. She spins you and holds you tightly, and you can feel her fingers slip underneath the blazer and graze over your exposed back. Her lips brush your ear and her voice is low, “You have no idea how happy I was when I saw you picked out a low-cut back.”

“I knew you’d like it,” you respond, your voice quiet and breathy.

“I don’t just like it, sweetheart,” she hums. “I love it. You know damn well how much I love your back.”

You laugh quietly, shivering beneath her touch as her nails scratch lightly over your back. “You’ll get to see plenty of it after this, I promise.”

Around eleven, with the majority of the party drunk–including you and Agatha–Tony pauses the music, standing up on a chair and hollering. “I want to give a brief toast.” He scratches his eyebrow and raises his glass. “I just want to say an official ‘welcome to the family’ for Agatha, and that anyone who can stay together for 118 years, give or take, is the pinnacle of true love–which is disgustingly sappy, but it’s true. Here’s to the brides and the many more years of happiness to come.”

Midnight is approaching when a small group has the brilliant idea to go to Taco Bell. But Agatha, in her drunken state, has been teasing you all night, and vice versa.

They were only little touches, hands on waists, brushes of fingers on backs, pecks on the lips and cheeks, even those looks across the yard as you talk to talk to someone got to you. And now, every moment of desperation from the past three weeks is catching up with you.

When you decline, you bid everyone goodnight and have Tony call you a car for the forty minute drive to the hotel. With hotel room keys in Agatha’s clutch, you’re almost pushed into the car by her, drunkenly laughing as she follows. You have to cross your legs with how turned on you are. These three weeks have been the most brutal of your life, and to make it worse, Agatha sits beside you in the middle seat and her hand slips underneath the skirt of your dress.

Her fingers trail up your thigh and she leans over, skimming her lips over your neck. You can feel your pulse quicken and whisper under your breath, “Agatha, we are not alone yet.”

“And when has that stopped us before?” she mutters. She removes her lips from her neck and sits back, but her fingers don’t leave. Her eyes watch as you try to focus on the passing scenery outside, but it’s so fucking hard. 

Agatha grins as you lean against the door. Her fingers move higher and higher and she can see you beginning to tremble. She never gives you want, instead opting to tease you just over your white lace panties. She applies just enough pressure for you to gasp and shut your eyes. 

Agatha does this for the entire ride, on and off touches, teasing you mercilessly until you finally pull up to the hotel entrance. After tipping the chauffeur extra, you both stumble out of the car, giggling as you rush into the hotel. Agatha is on top of you as soon the elevator doors close and the 51st floor button is pressed.

“I can’t wait to get you in that fucking room. I’m going to absolutely ruin you,” she huffs into your mouth, hands gripping your waist tightly underneath the blazer you’re still wearing.

When the elevator dings and the doors open on your floor, you’re pushed out with Agatha still flush against you. The door to the suite is slammed shut and Agatha throws the room key and her clutch on the floor before pushing you against the wall.

With her lips on your neck, you open your eyes and catch yourself in the mirror. You’re a complete mess: red lipstick is smeared down your throat, your hair is falling from the pins, and the shoulder of the dress and blazer have fallen down. Your eyes drift to the rest of the room as Agatha bites at your skin and you gasp.

Expensive, plush sofas, and leather armchairs surround a fireplace and a flat screen TV. Behind it, a ten-feet-tall bay window made entirely of glass overlooks Central Park with a breakfast nook, and a glass door next to it leads to one of the outdoor terraces. The floors are deep brown–almost black–made of African wenge and ebony wood. It’s by far the nicest room you’ve ever been in.

“Oh, my god,” you breathe. “Look at this–fucking room.”

Agatha stands up straight, taking your face in her hand and forcing you to look her in the eyes. “We could be in Buckingham fucking Palace right now, and the only thing I’d want to look at is you.”

You glance at her lips and back up at her eyes, sighing. “God, that was so fucking hot.” She kisses you hard and drags her lips down your throat. With your head turned to the side to give her more access, your eyes widen as they land on the grand piano in the center of the room. “Holy shit!” you breathe. “That’s a Steinway!” 

Agatha kisses back up your throat and kisses you softly, hand coming to cup your chin. She makes deep eye contact with you, her voice low and gravelly. “I’ll fuck you on that Steinway if you want, I promise. But for now, I’m going to need you to focus, baby.”

You’re breathless and you nod lightly.

“Can you do that for Mommy?” she asks. Her voice is calm, but the tone and her eyes make you feel like a child being scolded.

“Yes,” you say.

“Yes,” she repeats slowly, and kisses you lightly. “I know you can be good for me.”

You nod again and keep eye contact as she sinks to her knees. Your breathing gets heavier as she bunches your skirt up, having you hold it as she kisses up your thighs and pulls down your underwear. The sound of her moaning at the sight of you alone has you clenching around nothing.

Agatha looks up at you, mouth hovering over your cunt as you tremble. “I’ve fucking missed this pussy,” she moans.

The feeling of her mouth on you again is indescribable. The slightest touch of her tongue against your clit sends you spiraling. And when she slips two fingers inside, you moan and she gasps, eyes peering up at you. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this fucking wet for me before.”

You can’t even respond as your head falls back onto the wall with a thud. Her fingers and tongue work in tandem, and in less than ten minutes, with one of your legs thrown over her shoulder, you’re shaking uncontrollably.

“Agatha, I–!” You choke on your words, grasping her hair as you lean forward. “I can’t stand–I’m gonna–fuck–I’m gonna fall over–!”

She removes her mouth and fingers from your pussy, and stands up to kiss you. Her hands come to your thighs and lift you easily, her mouth against yours as she carries you across the room. You have no clue where she’s taking you–until there’s a loud, unpleasant sound of piano keys.

When you pull away, you’re exactly where you think–the Steinway piano. Your hand braces yourself on the keys beside you, making another, sharper sound. Your other hand grips her shoulder as she kisses your neck and her fingers slide right back into you. 

Your nails dig into her skin as you gasp, “Oh, my god, you’re fucking me on a Steinway.”

“I am,” she huffs against your lips, grinning as her fingers keep working. “I make good on my promises, don’t I? And I promised to fuck you until you almost pass out.”

You moan loudly into her kiss. The pleasure is so intense–three weeks of nothing is catching up quickly. Your hips start to grind against her hand, and when her palm presses against your clit, tears quickly fill your eyes and you cry out. You sob out incoherent words, your mind melting into nothing but mush as it gets exactly what it wants after three weeks.

Mascara streaks your cheeks as you start trembling beneath her and crying into her mouth. “Oh, my god–! Fuck, Mommy! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Yes!”

The hand holding your skirt to your hip lets go and grips your jaw. “Open your eyes,” she demands, and you obey. “Look at me.” With her eyes on yours, her face is stone cold and you whimper. “You wanna cum don’t you? I can feel it.” 

You nod and she leans in close, fingers moving faster as you sob. Her voice is stern and has a deep tone of authority to it. “You don’t need permission. Not tonight. I want you to give Mommy every single fucking drop. Do you understand?” You nod quickly and she grips your cheeks tighter. “Ah, ah. No. I need words, baby. Do you understand?”

“Yes!” you sob. “Yes, Mommy! Yes!”

“Good girl!” she praises, voice raising over your cries. “I want you to cum for me now. You can do it! Cum for me!”

You had never felt pleasure like this. The tears, your throat raw from screaming, the feeling of her hands finally on you again, the sound of the piano keys ringing out as your hands find somewhere to be–it’s all so much, and it’s all so good.

Your legs lock around Agatha’s hips as you shake, and she looks down at you like you’re her whole world–and in a way, you are. “There she is!” she smiles. “That’s my good girl!”

Your legs tremble as she fucks you through the aftershocks, clinging to her tightly as you catch your breath. Her lips press hard against yours and each kiss gets lighter and lighter until they’re barely brushing against yours. 

“I think–that was–” You take a deep breath and she kisses you again. “–the best–orgasm–you have ever fucking given me.”

You both laugh into each other’s mouths, kissing softly as you carefully step down from your seated position on the piano keys. As she walks you backwards, her hands strip you of her blazer, tossing it aside on a leather armchair and starting to unbutton the back of your dress. 

“Why are these buttons so fucking small?” she seethes.

You can feel her struggling and giggle against her, “Getting frustrated, Mrs. Harkness?”

“If you didn’t look so damn good in this dress, I’d rip it right off of you,” she huffs.

You almost fall through the bedroom door when she opens it. You stop to shrug off your dress and remove your heels and necklace. And when you toss everything aside, you practically jump on her. She squeals into the kiss, both of you giggling as she backs you against the bed and pushes you down onto the mattress. 

When Agatha stands, she hovers over you, running her hands over the lace of your lingerie top. She groans, devouring you with her eyes, “Fuck, look at you. You’re irresistible.”

She slips off her heels and slots her knee in between your legs, leaning down to kiss you hard. Her hands reach around her back, trying to undo the zipper on her romper. She pulls away from the kiss, frustrated. “Dammit!” Her arms contort at different angles as you start laughing. “Can you help me, please?”

She turns around to let you unzip her but you struggle. “I think it’s stuck.

“Well, pull harder,” Agatha huffs.

“It’s still not–” You pull the zipper harder. “Come on–There!”

Agatha quickly pulls off the romper and unclips her bra, tossing it aside somewhere along with her underwear. Anticipation bubbles up through laughter as you move further up the bed on your hands and knees. Right as you make it to the pillows, her hand grabs your ankle and you squeal, giggling as you fall to your stomach. 

When you flip yourself over, Agatha is slowly crawling towards you. Her kisses drift from your calves, up to your thighs, and stop at the apex. She drags her tongue through your folds, up your mound and over your navel, all the way up past your sternum, up your throat, and stopping in your mouth. You moan when you taste yourself on her tongue, hips lifting to seek any amount of friction.

“You are insatiable,” she muses.

“We’ve been refraining from sex for the past three weeks,” you say, hands on her cheeks. “I want you to fuck me on every surface in this suite.”

Agatha kisses you before getting out of bed. Your luggage sits in the corner and she crouches down, digging through clothes before she finds one of the wand vibrators. She stays for just a few seconds longer, and when she turns around, there’s a strip of black satin dangling from her fingers. 

She comes closer and closer, each step slow and sensual. There’s a knowing smirk on her face–the one that reads: ‘You’re about to receive the best fucking of your life.’ And when she gets back into bed, she leans in close, her voice soft. “Color?”

“Green,” you breathe

Agatha kisses you softly and looks deep in your eyes, her look more sober now. “If any of this gets too much, use your safeword. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“I love you,” she says, kissing you again before setting the vibrator down and straightening the piece of fabric. Her voice is soft but commanding, and it sends a chill down your spine. “Sit up.”

You obey, like you always do–mostly–and she leans in with the satin, placing it over your eyes and tying it in the back. She guides you back down onto the pillows and leaves you with a kiss on your forehead. You’re shaking now from the anticipation of it all and her hands slide down your ribs and over your torso. 

“You’re trembling,” she says. “Take a deep breath. Relax.” You do and she lets out a satisfied hum. “Good girl.”

Your skin feels like it's on fire as Agatha’s hands go over every inch. Her fingers trace up and down your sternum before untying the front of your lingerie and letting it fall open. 

“Oh, yes,” she breathes. “Gods, you are fucking beautiful.”

Her fingers graze over your nipples and you arch your back into her touch. She chuckles and sits up, reaching for the vibrator before opening your legs wide. All of your senses are magnified. Your ears listen for every sound–the rustling of the duvet, the sound of her breathing, and now, the sound of the vibrator buzzing.

You take a deep breath and when you exhale it comes out as a moan. The vibrator is pressed to your clit. You arch your back, grasping at the pillow beneath your head, and then you feel her situate herself on top of you. 

Agatha lets out a deep breath as you feel her own weight press the vibrator harder onto you. “Hold this,” she says, and takes your left hand, forcing the wand into it. Her own left hand clasps your right, pinning it above your head as she rocks her hips and steadies herself over your throat.

She squeezes lightly, leaning in close enough that you’re huffing into each other’s mouths. She reaches down and turns the vibrations up, and when you whine, she smiles. Her hand goes to your forehead, pushing back the stray hair that clings to your skin. “I know, baby,” she coos. “But you look so fucking pretty like this.”

You match her pace, grinding against the vibrator and holding onto her hand tightly. You wish you could see Agatha like this–how her hair gets frizzy in the heat, the feral look in her eyes when you’re shaking beneath her. You cry out as you feel her starting to tremble above you, moans becoming louder with yours.

Convulsing beneath her, she’s breathless as she holds you down by your chest. “Keep it right there,” she huffs.  “Mommy wants to cum all over you.”

The overstimulation of the vibrator on you is quickly becoming too much, but just enough to start becoming pleasurable again. Your hips start rocking against it again and she huffs out a lugh. “Are you gonna cum again?”

“Yes!” you sob.

She smiles, panting above you. “Do you wanna cum with Mommy?” 

“Yes! Yes, yes yes! Please, Mommy!”

Your nails leave indents in the back of her hand as she raises her voice, her praises stern and authoritative. “That’s it, baby! Come on! Cum with Mommy!”

You finish for a third time, tears running down your temples and soaking the blindfold as Agatha collapses on top of you. With the vibrator off and her hand still in yours, you lay there with her on top of you, both of you catching your breath. 

When your breath returns, you slowly feel the kisses on your neck begin again. Her tongue drags up the side of your neck and back to your mouth. With the blindfold still on, she sits you up, holding you against her tightly. 

Your hands wander down Agatha’s body, grabbing at her skin blindly until your fingers find her clit and circle it slowly. She sighs into the kiss and your fingers slip inside her, slowly curling until they come to a steady rhythm. Her hips move with your fingers, forehead against yours as she moans into your mouth. 

“Keep going,” she huffs. “You’re doing so fucking good for Mommy.”

It doesn’t take long for her to finish, almost screaming your name as she gushes in your hand, trembling against you. Agatha kisses you hard and pushes you back down onto the pillows. 

“I was gonna save this for when we get to the Maldives,” she sighs, getting out of bed and going over to the suitcase. “But you’ve just been so good for me these past few weeks” She looks over her shoulder at you, catching you tilting your head back to peek through the blindfold. “Ah, ah! No peeking! Bad girls don’t get rewards.”

You groan, relaxing back into the bed. Your ears tune into the sounds of clicking and straps adjusting, and your heart races knowing exactly what’s coming. Hands run over the inside of your thighs, parting them wide. 

“You’ve been so good for me,” Agatha drawls. “I know these past few weeks have been hard, but I’m so proud of you.” You feel yourself clench and she chuckles. She lowers herself over you as she continues speaking, her words soft, “You didn’t touch yourself once–as far as I know. But you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” You nod quickly. “That’s right. You are. And what do good girls get?” You don’t respond to her and she sits up, nails lightly trailing down your chest. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“They get rewards,” you say.

“That’s right, they do,” she mutters. “And that’s exactly what you’ll be getting.”

Your mouth opens in a silent gasp when the strap enters you. Agatha’s thumb circles your clit as she slowly thrusts in. “Since you’re blindfolded,” she says, “I think it would be best if you felt me fucking you–considering you can’t see it.”

She reaches for both of your wrists, pulling them down and pinning your hands on your lower abdomen. “I want you to feel me fucking you,” she says, tightening her hold on your wrists as she thrusts hard. “Feel how big my cock is?” 

You cry out in response as you feel the strap bulge under your hands. She bites her lip, thrusting harder. “It’s all for you, sweetheart. I want you to feel me cum inside you. I want you to feel me fuck a baby into you. And you’re gonna take it all, just like the good girl I know you are.”

She speeds up, your legs trembling as she pulls herself forward by your wrists. You’re crying–blubbering, and it’s pathetic. 

“Fuck, yes!” you sob. “Fuck a baby into me, Mommy, please! I want you to cum inside me.”

“Touch yourself,” she huffs, dragging your hands down further. You can feel the strap even more now, sobbing as your fingers circle your clit. She moans at the sight, “That’s my good girl. Keep touching yourself, baby.”

Nothing you have ever felt could compare to this. You’re choking on air from how good it feels. Tears are soaking the blindfold. You can’t see anything, but you can feel everything. Agatha’s tight grip on your wrists, the cock poking through and hitting your hands, your own fingers touching yourself, and Agatha’s hips slamming against yours. You’re almost drooling, and the only words you can mumble are, “Yes, yes, yes, yes!”

“Do you want Mommy to cum inside you?” she says, breathless. 

You can feel the cock twitch inside you and you sob, “Yes! Yes, cum inside me, Mommy, please!”

Your back arches and you’re screaming–you’re actually screaming now–as you start shaking. Your fingers circle faster, even as you go lightheaded, completely blinded by the pleasure.

Agatha’s thrusts become sporadic and messy. “That’s it, keep touching yourself. Mommy’s gonna cum inside this–fuck–this perfect fucking pussy.”

You feel her tremble, you feel the warmth, and you’re too spent to move. You lay there, catching your breath, eyes closed. After she pulls out, she tosses the strap off the bed and pulls the blindfold over your head.

Agatha’s hand brushes over your cheek. “Sweetheart?” she mutters. Your eyes open, adjusting to the light, and you catch her smiling softly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Yeah, I’m–you really weren’t joking when you said you’d fuck me until I almost pass out.”

She chuckles and kisses your cheek. “I told you. I make good on my promises.”

She lays down beside you, arm wrapped around you as your head rests on her shoulder. Her fingers trail up and down your arm and she turns her head to look at you. “So was it worth it?”

You hold your left hand up in the warm lamp light, watching as it reflects off the diamond of your engagement ring and the silver of your wedding band. You turn on your side and curl into Agatha. And as you lay soft kisses on her lips you mutter, “Oh, absolutely, Mrs. Harkness…Absolutely.”

[burreauxsss]

future mrs burrow

(time skip of a year) background: with life moving so fast, joe and y/n decides to get married. not without a bump in the road though.... from crazy people... (a small surprise at the end and no this will not be turned into a series)

(all pics off of pinterest. as always pretend some of these are bengals/superbowl related)

note: this is time skipping to feb of 2026 ,wrote this over the entire pregame/first half of the super bowl (because who the hell is watching it, except for kendrick lamar). im so flustered for all the support ive gotten based off of part one. thank you so much 🫶🏾

warning: annoying tea page (starts with a d and ends with a i)

joe burrow x black reader smau

y/n_handle

📍san francisco, ca

❤️ 60,311 💬 7,958

liked by: joeyb_9 yourbsf and others

y/n_handle: super bowl weekend views 🐅

username_1: shes genuinely so pretty, why is everyone hating..

lahjay_10: joe's going insane over this picture

joeyb_9: i need you so much right now

y/n_handle: joeyb_9 on my way.

lahjay_10: not in the comments section oh my god hornballs.

*load more comments*

bengals

❤️ 315,392💬 150,870

liked by: y/n_handle lahjay_10 and others

bengals: super bowl weekend with 9!

y/n_handle: the hair???

yourbsf: y/n.. dont make me delete social media for you

lahjay_10: qb1!!!

joeyb_9: thats a good picture of me.

username_2: y/n is so lucky

username_3: most hottest person in the world

username_4: i dont see how hes fine..

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y/n_handle

📍santa clara, ca

❤️ 61,304 💬 23,074

liked by: joeyb_9 and others

y/n_handle: happy super bowl sunday 🧡, beat the 49ers

yourbsf: wearing green looks good on you!!

username_5: i can tell the fit is going to be pretty

username_6: the chanel purse though?

joeyb_9: prettiest girl in the entire world ❤️

y/n_handle: hottest man in the entire world!

username_7: i hope the 49ers win...

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y/n_handle posted a story!

bengals

❤️ 2.8m 💬 932,185

liked by: y/n_handle lsufootball nfl and others

bengals: your 2026 bengals are super bowl champions!!!

nfl: congrats!

y/n_handle: who dey!

lsufootball: joe & jama'rr!!

username_8: joe is the peoples mvp!!

username_9: still cant beat the chiefs in regular season

username_10: refs rigged the entire thing.

yourbsf: cincy!!!!!

*load more comments* y/n_handle

❤️ 41,370 💬 3,001

liked by: joeyb_9 and others

y/n_handle: i am so so so proud of you 9. from your injury to being nominated for CPOY twice, you deserve it. ive seen a side of you that has changed since we've been together from cocky qb at LSU to a soft one here in the NFL. to more years in the league safely and more years together. 🧡

ps: a picture from the last game at home where we beat the chiefs joeyb_9: you deserve the entire world ❤️

lahjay_10: nah whos cutting onions in here.

username_11: joe needs to put a ring on it. im actually begging.

username_12: cutest nfl couple out there!!

username_13: ms shiesty mustve had his pregame outfit...

username_14: the chiefs are so much better than them

username_15: burrow is a fraud, i dont know how he made it this far...

*load more comments*

y/n_handle has posted a story

caption: good morning?

duexmoi

❤️ 411,738 💬 87,150

liked by: tmz and others

duexmoi: controlling? fiance of cincinnati bengals quarterback y/n y/ln cannot post alleged wedding photos because its not a good look due to them "getting engaged/married so fast"

username_17: if this is true i need her to find a new MAN or he needs to find a new PR TEAM.

username_18: shes there for the money, probably why.

username_19: shes not attractive anyways..

*load more comments*

joeyb_9 posted a story

y/n_handle

📍cincinnati, oh

❤️ 1.2m 💬

liked by: yourbsf bengals and others

y/n_handle: officially mrs shiesty *comments are off*

joeyb_9

❤️ 555,000 💬 200,184

liked by: y/n_handle bengals

joeyb_9: always and forever

y/n_handle: until death does us part

username_20: stopp hes married now

username_21: ladies... time to move on.

username_22: so duexmoi never told a lie??

bengals: congrats!

lahjay_10: its about damn time joe.

joeyb_9: lahjay_10 stfu.

teehiggins: lahjay_10 i swear its been like 2 decades..

*load more comments*

duexmoi

❤️ 491,008 💬 130,907

liked by: e! news and others

duexmoi: so ladies.. how are we feeling?? joe and y/n just confirmed their marriage with pictures on eachothers instagram depicting it.

username_23: she didnt have to take him like that 💔

username_24: that should be me tf!!

username_25: its true??? on a serious note congrats.

username_26: im gonna cry myself to sleep because what- 😀

*load more comments*

y/nburrow

📍the keys

❤️ 210,000 💬 130,907

liked by: joeyb_9 yourbsf lahjay_10 and others

y/nburrow: allow me to reintroduce myself as mrs. y/n burrow.

yourbsf: the name change is insane

y/nburrow: yourbsf im y/n burrow, had to stay original.

joeyb_9: your so pretty mama ❤️

y/nburrow: joeyb_9 thank youuu..

username_27: just fell to my knees because he just called her mama..

username_28: joe has a pretty girl..

username_29: i still hope joe signed a prenup

y/nburrow: username_29 worry about your own shit. not every nfl wag is a gold digger 🫶🏾

*load more comments*

2 months later

y/n_handle posted a story

caption: someone’s pullout game is weak… joeyb_9

note: thank yall so much for reading!! this will not turn into a series so cliffhanger for now lmaoo

[writeriguess]

Hiyaa!!!

I'm so so so glad that you're back! I wish you the best and hope you have the perfect time writing and enjoying this🥰

Since you said you got your old requests deleted I guess I'll send mine again XD

I had sorta of a specific request afab!reader x Bakugo first time (nsfw)? Reader and Bakugo known each other since middle school and hated each other's guts but then in the first year of ua thing start to change... Like a enemies to friends to lovers thingy And they confess to each other a day before the final war now it's several months after that and when Bakugo takes reader for hiking on the weekend but then end up having their first time in the hot springs?

I hope it's not too much XD

Thank you!✨❤️

author's note: I remember writing this request before and feeling proud of it, but unfortunately, I cleared my entire queue of over 40 fics when the plagiarism issue surfaced. It's been quite a while since I last wrote NSFW content, so I need to practice again. I apologize in advance if the smut scene ends up being a bit brief.

From Sparks

The crunch of boots against gravel echoed through the serene mountains as Bakugo Katsuki led the way up the hiking trail. The midday sun filtered through the canopy of towering trees, casting golden patches of light on the forest floor. Behind him, you followed, your breath hitching slightly from the climb.

The crisp mountain air filled your lungs as you adjusted the strap of your backpack, keeping your gaze on Bakugo's broad back. The way his shoulders flexed under his tank top with every step he took distracted you from the ache in your legs. He glanced over his shoulder, the usual fiery determination in his crimson eyes softened by a rare smirk.

"Keep up, slowpoke," he teased, his voice playful but laced with the competitive edge you’d grown to expect from him.

“Maybe if you weren’t trying to kill me with this climb,” you shot back, feigning annoyance. “You know, not everyone has the stamina of a hero like you.”

He huffed out a laugh, slowing his pace slightly. “Didn’t think you’d wanna quit on me, considering how much you run your mouth.”

The banter felt natural, a sign of how far the two of you had come since those middle school days filled with endless bickering. Back then, you couldn’t stand each other, always butting heads over the smallest things. Now, years later, things were different. The bond forged through shared battles and late-night confessions made your relationship unshakable.

When you finally reached the summit, Bakugo stopped abruptly, turning to face you as you caught up. His face was flushed, either from the climb or the way his eyes lingered on you. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at you with an expression that made your heart race.

“This way,” he said gruffly, jerking his thumb toward a path off the main trail. You followed, curious as to where he was leading you.

The sound of running water reached your ears before you saw it—a hidden hot spring tucked away behind a cluster of rocks. Steam rose from the clear, inviting water, curling in the cool mountain air like a beckoning promise.

“You planned this?” you asked, your voice tinged with surprise and delight.

Bakugo shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Figured you could use some downtime. We both could.”

Without waiting for a response, he began peeling off his boots and shirt, leaving you frozen in place. His sculpted physique was on full display, every scar and muscle a testament to the life he led.

“You coming or what?” he called over his shoulder, his smirk returning.

Your heart hammered as you quickly removed your shoes and outer layers, stepping into the warm water. It enveloped you like a soothing embrace, but the proximity of Bakugo, now sitting beside you with the water lapping at his chest, set your nerves alight.

The conversation dwindled, replaced by a comfortable silence as the two of you soaked in the tranquil atmosphere. His hand brushed against yours beneath the surface, tentative at first, but when you didn’t pull away, his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Katsuki…” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, but he cut you off with a gentle tug, pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap.

“Shut up,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. His hands settled on your hips, steadying you. “Just… let me do this.”

His lips crashed into yours, a mixture of urgency and tenderness that stole your breath away. The world around you disappeared, leaving only the heat of his touch and the sound of your racing heart.

Your breath hitched when you felt his hardness pressing against your swollen pussy lips, and you couldn't help but moan. Katsuki smirked, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. His usual brash confidence was softened by something more intimate, more vulnerable—a rare glimpse of the man beneath the hero.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, carrying the weight of emotions he rarely expressed. His hands tightened on your hips, grounding you as his forehead pressed against yours.

The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, but in the best possible way. You couldn’t imagine a better place to be than here with him, sharing something you had never dared to hope for.

You let out a soft whimper when he entered you, his cock filling you completely. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you rocked against him, taking him deeper. His hips snapped upward, driving his length even further inside you.

Katsuki let out a low growl, his teeth grazing your neck. Your skin prickled with anticipation, heightening every sensation. Pleasure coiled deep within you, building with each thrust until you couldn't hold back any longer.

Your release washed over you like a wave, the rush of emotions and physical sensations threatening to drown you. Bakugo followed shortly after, his body tensing as he came.

When your breathing finally returned to normal, he pulled back, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

"What are you doing to me?" he asked, his tone soft despite the edge of frustration in his words.

"I could ask you the same question," you replied, giving him a smile that left no doubt about your feelings.

Katsuki chuckled, shaking his head. "Guess we're both fucked."

His kiss was softer this time, a promise of things to come. You didn't know where the two of you were headed, but whatever happened, you knew it would be worth it.

Feel free to request <3

[ghouldump]

Fangirl | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ meeting the vampire rockstar goes surprisingly well

here is something short, while waiting on the other posts coming soon :) if this post isn't up around 7/26 its because i hated the fic so much, i went ahead and deleted it

“How does my hair look?” You kept looking into your phone camera, touching your makeup.

“It looks good, what about my outfit?” Cara, your friend, asked.

“You both look fine, I wish you would come on,” her brother, Caleb groaned.

“Seriously, all of this over some guy who claims he’s a vampire,” her boyfriend, Jason, grumbled, out of jealousy.

“You never know, he might be legit, you know there was a book that came out recently-

“Don’t start with your vampire conspiracies, Y/n,” Jason said, rudely, while Caleb snickered.

“Ignore him, even if he’s pretending, he’s sexy, so it doesn’t matter,” Cara laughed, taking your hand as you both entered the stadium.

Sighing, you tried to focus on the concert, and not let Jason’s words get to you. You could be a little sensitive and his words hit a nerve. Cara was the one who introduced Lestat’s music to you, professing he was her celebrity crush. Since then, you couldn’t deny the overwhelming interest you held for him and his outlandish claim that he was a vampire.

When she brought up the concert, you immediately began saving money, not only for the best seats but for a backstage pass. You were ecstatic, and you couldn’t let someone like Jason of all people ruin your night before it started.

Suddenly, the lights began to dim, the crowd began cheering, he was coming. As the music started, he appeared, and everyone screamed wildly. You could hardly move, frozen, mesmerized by his presence. The hair, face, body, skin, he seemed like the embodiment of perfection. Just as his eyes landed on you, you felt like you could melt, your face burning in excitement.

“I think he just looked at me,” Cara told you.

Not saying a word, you kept your eyes on him, watching as he slightly smirked, grabbing the microphone.

“He kept looking at me,” Cara said as you both made your way backstage. Neither Caleb nor Jason were willing to pay the extra money, leaving to wait in the car for the two of you.

"I think he looked at me too," you said, as she frowned, before scoffing.

“I would’ve noticed, he was basically singing to me,” she cheered, as you both approached the line.

Everyone stood, waiting for their autograph or picture, giving Lestat all of their praises, until it was finally your turn.

“Oh my god, could you sign this?” Cara asked as you made eye contact with Lestat. His gaze was intense, making you look at the floor.

Quickly signing Cara’s album, he hadn’t acknowledged her once, already reaching for your hand.

“Hi, I didn’t bring anything, you can sign my arm,” you laughed, as he quickly wrote his signature.

“Thank you, are you actually a vampire?” You asked. Cara stood awkwardly next to you, waiting for you.

“Y/n, why would you ask him-

“I have no reason to lie, Y/n, would you like proof?” He asked, his eyes examining your outfit in approval.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Why don’t you wait for me?” He pointed towards his dressing room.

“You can’t stay, Caleb and Jason are waiting for us,” Cara told you.

“I will make sure you are home before sunrise, is that alright, ma chèrie?” He asked you, tilting his head.

Nodding, you began to walk into the room, jumping as Cara stumped her feet.

“It’s not fair, I knew your music first,” she told him.

“And I appreciate your support, but I’m afraid you are holding up the line,” he told her, chuckling as she stormed off.

Sitting near the vanity, you received all kinds of messages from Cara. You were tempted to leave, hurt by all the mean things she said, because you chose to stay. You didn’t understand why she was so angry, she had a boyfriend, and you expressed your interest in Lestat as well.

“She’s been jealous of you all along, why do you think she allows her boyfriend to talk to you so rudely?” Lestat asked, rhetorically, taking off the shirt, as soon as he stepped into the room.

“She’s just…a really big fan of yours,” you cleared your throat as he approached.

“Are you a fan?” He asked, leaning on the table in front of you.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Then how she feels is truly irrelevant,” he chuckled.

“We will be leaving shortly,” he continued, changing into a button-down shirt.

Walking to the opulent convertible, you kept your head down. Fans and Paparazzi all called out his name, yet still, they kept a clear path for him, almost afraid of what would happen, blocking his way. He kept a slight smirk on his face, giving them only enough of his attention that would leave them begging for more.

Getting into the car, he blew them a singular kiss before speeding off. As reckless as he seemed, he was a great driver, and patient, listening to the classical music that played lowly on the radio. Finally, he parked in front of a large house.

“T-this is your home?”

“No, just temporarily, my house is in New Orleans,” he said, nonchalantly, getting out of the car, as you hurriedly followed behind him.

Entering the large house, your eyes wandered up the walls, to the ceiling, admiring the details. Looking back down, you realize that Lestat wasn't walking anymore, staring at you.

“What?” you asked, nervously.

“You've been around that wretched excuse of a friend for too long, you have no reason to be timid, you are a piece of art,” he complimented.

The trait reminded him too much of a certain someone, accepting poor treatment, and constantly being undermined and disrespected. You deserved better, much like his Louis did, and for that he liked you a bit more, perhaps you could be around much longer than he originally planned.

“Thank you,” you said, gulping as he circled around you.

Unconsciously, you backed up, moving away from him, until you bumped into the sofa. As you nearly fell backward, he caught you. Reaching for your jaw, he lifted your head, your eyes meeting his, and instantly, he began his hypnotic voice.

“You don’t have to be shy around me, nervous, anxious, you’re allowed to be as carefree as your mortal heart desires,” he said, his thumb brushing against your lips.

“Okay,” you nodded, before snapping out of the trance.

“Come, ma chèrie, the night is still young,” he told you, holding out his hand. Biting back your smile, you accepted his hand, giggling as he swiftly picked you up, carrying you to the master bedroom.

“Why didn’t you stick with opera?” You asked Lestat, you both lay in his bed, conversing for the last two hours.

“I’m a man of many talents,” he smirked.

“Like pretending to be a vampire,” you stood on your knees, before he pulled you into his lap. Baring his teeth, you gasped for a moment, realizing the fangs were real.

“As stated before, I have no reason to lie, I have been a vampire for over two centuries”

“You’re legit,” you smiled excitedly, as you reached for his teeth, poking the fang.

“You’re more excited than I imagined”

“I hoped you were, that it wasn’t a costume,” you confessed to him.

“To fulfill your fantasies? I see what you think of happening, of doing. For your desires to be made manifest, show me what you want, what your heart calls out to me for,” he told you, kissing your wrist, as you climbed out of the bed.

Undoing your top, as soon as it fell to the floor, Lestat was in front of you. His glass-like nails trailed across your stomach, as he circled you. Pulling you into his embrace, he took in your scent. Goosebumps covered your arms, as you stood pressed against his cold chest.

His hands brushed against your neck, before moving to your breast, cupping them. Closing your eyes, you moaned, as his fangs sank into your neck. The sensation of your blood draining, mixed with the massaging from his hands, the exchange felt better than sex.

Pulling away, you stared into his eyes, your blood all over his mouth. Grabbing your head, he hungrily kissed your lips, picking you up, and carrying you to bed. Stripping the remainder of your clothes, Lestat kissed you as if he'd never been kissed.

“Am I going to die?” you asked, catching his attention.

“All mortals die,” he reminded you, before he went back to kissing your neck, smirking as you moaned.

“Will you turn me?” you asked.

“Not tonight, ma chérie,” he laughed, pulling the blanket over the two of your bodies.

Lestat’s ego was stroked, hearing how much you were turned on by your blood being drunk. So much that he was willing to give you the real thing to compare it to since you thought it was so much better than sex. He wouldn't kill you, not like he had done the others. Your essence was too familiar, and he could already see himself growing attached in the future. He liked you and intended to see you again.

“I hope you sleep well,” you told him, as you went to get out of the car.

“I will and I plan to see you soon, ma chérie,” he told you, watching as you got out of the car, tiredly walking to your front door. The amount of times and positions you had previously experienced didn't even seem humanly possible, leaving you feeling like an entirely new person.

Just as you shut the front door, your phone began ringing. Seeing Cara’s contact, you felt visibly agitated, rolling your eyes before accepting her call.

“Why weren't you answering the phone?” she asked immediately.

“I left it in his car, on accident”

“So, how did it go?” she asked. Thinking of Lestat’s words, you knew better than to share details, when she didn't even want you to go in the first place.

“I don't kiss and tell”

[dandylovesturtles]

I lied

this fic is going to have at least four parts. oops.

Sorry this took longer than I intended! I started working on it literally the next day after the first part went up and banged out 3K words, then wrote another 1.5K over the next couple days, ended up hating it, deleted the whole thing and started over. I'm much happier with this version.

I had intended for this part to go deeper into the immediate aftermath buuuut this part ended up so long I decided to make that the next part!

And I got enabled on discord to be mean with the cliffhanger, so... sorry <3

CW: minor violence, angst, nobody having a good time, Bishop being Bishop

btw this is Part 2 of the Room Fic that doesn't have a title yet. If you're confused, start here!

-----

They're somewhere in Nebraska, and Raph's never seen so many stars before.

He thought he had seen stars, when they went camping in the woods that time with Todd. Now, sitting on the side of the road by the Turtle Tank, he's realizing that he didn't really see them.

He wishes he could enjoy it, but he can't. Not really. Because nine days ago, Leo stormed out of the lair and never came home.

(Raph knows the thing he'll always blame himself for is picking the fight in the first place.)

It took them several days to learn what had happened to him. Even more days to learn where he was taken. And now they're stuck on the side of the road in Nebraska while Donnie fixes a flat.

Mikey's dozing against his shoulder. He hasn't been getting enough sleep, not that any of them have. April's handing Donnie tools and keeping him company while he changes the tire. Draxum and Splinter are inside the tank, on the lookout for cops with the help of Donnie's police scanners.

It's cool since the sun went down. Quiet. Crickets are out and playing their songs. Raph's seen a few deer, and an owl. The stars are twinkling overhead, and it's calm, peaceful.

The weight on his shoulder is suddenly gone; Raph looks down to find Mikey sitting up straight, wide awake and head cocked to the side like a bloodhound who just caught a scent.

He opens his mouth to ask - and then he feels it too.

It's a cacophony of emotions, strong and hot and mixing together until they're overwhelming. Fear, pain, exhaustion, loneliness, and a blinding fury like even Raph has never felt before. Hatred and bile and the desire to attack, to harm, to destroy.

And underneath it all, a presence as familiar to him as his own, one that's been by his side since almost the day he was hatched. One that is fragile and desperate and screaming out for help.

Leo.

Raph stands up - next to him, Mikey is already on his feet. Raph reaches out his hand, his ninpo flaring to life, straining out into the open air like if he just stretches far enough, he can pluck Leo out of the hell he's trapped in and bring him home.

But he can't reach far enough, because the EPF took him all the way to Colorado. And they're still on the side of the road in Nebraska.

As quickly as it came, the presence is dying away again. It shrinks smaller and smaller and then fizzles out. Raph releases his breath, letting his ninpo fall away, his fingers still grasping open air.

A sniffle. Raph looks down and finds Mikey sobbing. He scoops his little brother into his arms, and Mikey throws himself into Raph's chest, heaving breaths shaking his tiny frame.

"Leo," he whimpers. All Raph can do is pat his shell.

He turns to take stock of Donnie next, carrying Mikey over. His other little brother has tears trickling down his face, too, more subdued but still visible. He's holding his wrench in a vice grip, and for once he doesn't utter a single protest when Raph reaches out and tucks him in under his free arm.

"...What just happened?" asks April, hesitant. Raph wishes he knew how to explain.

"It was Leo!" Mikey does it for him. "He... he's reaching for us."

"What!? Like, mind meld or something!?"

"No," answers Raph. "I don't really know what that was... but it was definitely Leo."

"So..." April pauses, eyes searching each of their faces. "Is he... okay?"

None of them know what to say, but she gets it anyway.

"...I'm going to destroy the EPF," says Donnie, voice dark and cold. "I'm going to raze it to the ground. There will be nothing left."

Raph squeezes his shoulders, pulling him closer.

He doesn't know what to do other than agree.

-----

"This is a good thing," says Draxum. "That means he's still alive."

"But they're hurting him!" Mikey argues. He's halfway in Draxum's lap, arms wrapped around Draxum's middle. Donnie sits on one of the bench seats, curled tight around his own legs, while Splinter strokes his head. Raph sits on the bench seat across from them, April leaning against his side.

"I told you what the EPF is capable of," Draxum reminds them. "This is not a surprise."

"Read the room, Barry," says April.

Splinter's look is increasingly far away, his touch on Donnie's head automatic and absentminded. He's able to stay in the room with them when there's something to do, but now the fear and depression are threatening to take him away again. For the hundredth time since this nightmare began, Raph feels the hopelessness set in.

Draxum sucks, but he's right, echoes the voice in his head that sounds too much like Leo. The plan hasn't changed. Now get moving before you tire out.

"Drax is right that Leo's alive," Raph echoes. "So we need to get a move on. Donnie, how's the tank?"

Donnie uncurls, coaxed by the request to talk about his baby. "The spare's on, and I did some checks on the engine and interior systems. We're ready to go."

"Alright." Raph stands up, rolling his shoulders. "It's Raph's turn to drive. Everyone buckle up."

The mood in the tank shifts after that; they have a direction, and a plan. Leo is hurt, but he's still alive, and nothing has changed.

Donnie and April sit together in the front seats. Mikey passes around snacks and drinks from their cooler, then snuggles in between their dad and Draxum. Draxum says something negative about the snack food, which pulls Splinter out of his trance and starts up some heated bickering between them. Even more of the tension leaks out of the cab.

Raph puts the tank in drive and pulls back onto the quiet highway, driving west again. At their back, the sun starts to rise.

-----

It's late in the day when they reach Colorado Springs.

Donnie was able to pin the EPF base's location down to the mountains surrounding the town, but he couldn't find its exact location. Whatever equipment they have, it's completely scrambled the subcutaneous tracker Donnie put on Leo (and boy, was that a stir when Donnie revealed he'd put trackers on all of them). It had taken a combination of Donnie's hacking and April's investigative skills to get this far.

"It makes sense," says April as they pull the tank into a campsite outside the city limits. "There's, what, three bases here? Where better to hide a secret branch of the military than with the military?"

There's snow on the ground outside, even though it's early May. Even so, the temperature was pretty mild while the sun was up. "It's the proximity to the mountains," Donnie explains when Raph mentions it, but the rest of the explanation blurs together. He's too tired to keep up with Donnie's science facts, but infodumping calms his brother down, so he lets him do it and nods along.

They eat a proper meal that Mikey cooks for them on one of the campsite grills, then settle in to nap until the sun goes down. Raph isn't sleeping, and he can tell from all the shifting around that Mikey and Donnie aren't, either. They're too close to Leo now to rest.

But you gotta catch some Zs before you go storming into enemy territory, the Leo in his head reminds him.

Raph hates every second you're in there, he thinks. But it won't be long now. Big bro's comin'.

He wishes the Leo in his head would say that he believes that. But all Raph can remember are the words they said during the fight, and he never quite goes to sleep.

-----

They break into pairs for their search. Raph goes with April, Mikey with Splinter, and Donnie stays with Draxum at the tank. Donnie uses his tech to try and narrow down the location of the base, while the other two teams go in opposite directions and start scouting the area on foot.

It takes a long time for them to learn anything, and as the sun comes up again, Raph starts to worry that they're going to have to leave Leo trapped for another full day.

But then he and April finally get a lead. They send the info to Donnie, and it helps narrow down his search.

Just after dawn, they reconvene at the tank, gathered around satellite images and drone shots of a nondescript military compound several miles outside the city.

"There it is," says Donnie with finality. "That's where they're keeping Leo."

"Then what are waiting for?" asks Mikey.

Wait for dark, says the Leo in Raph's head.

And that advice makes sense. There will be fewer employees at night. The dark provides natural cover. It's sane. It's smart.

Raph ignores it entirely.

He's not leaving his little brother with those people for one second longer. Not after what he felt, sitting on the side of the road in Nebraska.

"We're not waiting for anything," he says. "Let's move out."

From the looks on their faces, they all agree.

------

The site looks as generic as possible. There's a high electric fence circling the whole thing, with a basic "No Trespassing - Government Property" sign. A simple guard stand sits at the drive-in gate. The buildings visible beyond are drab and featureless.

The government stopped publicly funding the EPF in the nineties, Draxum had told them. But the organization had never truly gone away; it was just funded through underground means now. Miscellaneous defense funding. Anonymous donations. Private benefactors.

Originally it had been founded to defend Earth against aliens. But when no alien threat appeared, they moved on to a new mission: defending the United States against yokai.

"Even though we were here first," Draxum had said testily. "Typical Americans."

Raph hadn't liked anything Draxum had to tell them about the EPF. That they weren't bound by any of the laws the rest of the military was. That the yokai they had managed to capture were never seen again. That Draxum had had a very brief run-in with them once, decades ago, and he doubted they had ever forgotten it.

Really, though, all he'd needed to know was that they had his brother.

It's the middle of the morning, so their stealth options are limited. Still, they aren't ninja for nothing; they use the forest and the snowy terrain to their advantage and sneak their way into the compound. Raph has to admit, he was a little worried about Draxum on the trip over, but the old goat does a pretty good job keeping up.

It takes them a bit of time to work out which building to enter. They rule out a mess hall, a medical ward, the barracks, and some kind of training center first. Then, toward the furthest reaches of the compound, they find a building that looks particularly suspicious, with a guard gate on the path leading to it and more armed guards on the roof.

"That has to be it," says Raph. No one disagrees.

They use a passing supply truck to slip past the guard gate, then sneak around the back and use a fire ladder to get to the roof. They dispatch the guards on top quickly and easily, then find a ventilation shaft leading inside. Mikey, Donnie, April, and Splinter fit easily enough, but Raph and Draxum are too big to wiggle through.

"Find out where we're going. Radio us as soon as you find something," Raph says. Then he gives Mikey, April, and Donnie's shoulders each a squeeze in turn. "And be careful."

"Take care of Red," their dad says to Draxum just before he follows the others inside.

"He's safe with me," Draxum promises.

"You're safe with Raph," Raph feels the need to say. Splinter chuckles before disappearing into the shaft after his siblings.

Waiting outside becomes nerve-wracking quickly. Raph starts to pace the length of the roof, back and forth, glancing at the unconscious guards from time to time to make sure they're still unconscious.

"You're going to wear a rut on the roof," Draxum admonishes him. Raph keeps going anyway.

-----

Finally, after what feels like ages but is only about ten minutes, his radio crackles. Raph freezes, pulling his wrist close, where Donnie's tech is hidden under his wraps.

"Hey." It's April's voice. She sounds out of breath, but not distressed. "Come to the back of the building. Should be a door."

"On our way," says Raph, waving at Draxum to follow before dropping off the roof.

The door is easy enough to find, the snow around it trampled down. He gives the metal a rap with his knuckles when he gets there, and the door swings open, April grinning, her bat perched against her shoulder. Behind her is another unconscious guard.

"Nice, April," says Raph, hustling inside. He kicks the last of the snow off his feet once he's on the cold linoleum floor, Draxum following suit. April lets the door swing shut again. "Where's everyone else?"

"We found some kinda security room. Leo's gear was in there." She pushes by and starts to lead them down the hall, voice low, eyes watching for anyone rounding the corner. "Donnie's poking through the camera footage. Didn't look like anyone much was in this hall, so I came to get you."

"And Leonardo?" asks Draxum.

April gives a shake of her head. "Haven't found him yet, but he's gotta be here. There's not much more of the building to search, so we're close."

Raph peeks in open doors and through windows as they walk, taking in the space. It looks like an ordinary office building inside; nothing nefarious, except for the fact that the people working here are kidnapping scum who have done something so terrible to his little brother it made him scream out in anguish and fury. But if he hadn't known that coming in, he wouldn't have expected anything. It all looks very...

Raph comes to a sudden stop. Through the sliver of window in a door, he sees the first occupied room since he's entered the building. Only one person is inside, wearing a white lab coat and tapping away at a computer.

But what's more interesting is the door on the other side of the room: solid metal with no window, and a sign that reads "Inmate Observation - Authorized Access Only".

Raph grabs April by the shoulder before she can get too far ahead, pointing at the window. "Do you know what's in there?"

She turns back and takes a peek. "...No. I don't think we went through there yet."

So they haven't ruled this part of the building out yet. And it's the only one so far with anyone inside.

Inmate Observation.

"Raph, wait, I think we should-" April starts, but Raph doesn't listen. Raph can't stop himself.

His little brother is in here. He knows he is. The one who was taken from them. The one who cried out to them in fear, begging to be saved.

He's not making Leo wait a moment longer.

Raph throws open the door and marches inside.

"...Okay," April says behind him. "I guess we're doing it this way.

-----

The scientist or whoever they are tries to radio for help. Raph picks the radio up and crushes it in his hand. They turn and run, and that takes care of that.

April calls the others on her radio. Raph doesn't listen to the conversation. His eyes are locked on the door.

Inmate Observation.

He reaches out and throws the door back with a bang.

He's ready for the gunshots before they come, and his ninpo is already active, forming a protective bubble around himself and shielding Draxum and April. He's expecting bullets, but instead it's darts; they embed themselves harmlessly in the arms of his projection. Raph waits until the volley stops, then drops the projection, and the darts fall harmlessly to the floor.

He steps into the room and clocks one of the guards on the head before they can reload, watching as they fall to the ground. April wallops the other one, then kicks their fallen gun under a desk. She brandishes her bat at the other occupants of the room: two more scientists in lab coats, and one steely faced man in a suit.

The scientists seem intimidated. The suited man does not.

"Ah," he says. "So you've finally made it here, Draxum."

"Bishop." Draxum sounds equally unimpressed. "I thought you died in the nineties."

"So does most of the world. It's convenient for my work."

"You guys know each other?" April asks, looking between them.

"We know of each other." Draxum sneers. "If my plans had gone as I intended, he would truly be dead by now."

Raph narrows his eyes at the man. "Are you the one who's been keeping my brother here?"

To his credit, Bishop still looks unphased, even though Raph is tall enough to hulk over him. "I am the director of this facility."

It's enough of a yes.

Raph rushes Bishop, slamming him into the wall behind his back. Raph keeps him pinned, one hand on his neck, the other arm pressed against his chest, and Raph presses until he feels something start to crack.

Bishop hisses but does not cry out.

"Where are you keeping him?" Raph demands.

"He's in there," says Bishop, wheezing only slightly from the constriction on his lungs, his voice firm otherwise.

Raph tosses a look where Bishop indicates, seeing a large window. It's looking into a seemingly empty room; white walls and no furniture other than a toilet in the corner.

"Raph don't see him," he growls.

"He hides under the window." Bishop's eyes flicker to one of the scientists. "Pointless, really," he says, giving the man in the lab coat a nod. "Show them."

The scientist looks uneasy, but he turns and clicks a few buttons on a desktop. A screen pops up, but it doesn't show anything other than static.

"...Something is wrong with our camera signals, sir," the scientist reports.

"Ah." Bishop's eyes glint, and then flick back to Raph's face. "So there are more of you."

Raph doesn't answer that. He gives Bishop a rough shake. "What have you done to him?"

"Your brother?" Bishop clarifies. "Nothing."

Another shake. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." Bishop's eyes are steely, even as his wheezing picks up the more Raph leans into his chest. "Other than as was necessary to move him, we have not touched him."

Raph doesn't move an inch. "I don't believe that."

"Then see for yourself." Bishop looks at the other scientist now, giving a small nod of his head. "Dr. Keller, open the door for this brute so he'll stop assaulting me."

Raph scowls, staying exactly where he is while the other scientist scurries to the metal door by the window and inputs a code into a keypad. There's a beep, and a clipped, artificial voice says, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Finally, Raph lets Bishop go, and approaches the door.

-----

When Raph imagined one of them getting kidnapped by a shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, he always pictured something... different.

He thought they would be in cages, not tall enough to stand in. That they would be fed from dog bowls or water drippers. That handlers would patrol the room with cattle prods, ready to shock anyone who stepped out of line.

But there is no cage, and no cattle prods. Leo is just in a room.

The first thing Raph notices about the room is the cold. The rest of the building is hardly stifling, but even then, the blast of air that comes through the open door feels like Raph is stepping into a freezer.

As he saw from outside, there's no furniture. Or he doesn't think there is, until he looks down, under the window, and finds a cot.

And what's on the cot makes his heart stop.

Raph can barely remember the last time he saw Leo pull himself fully into his shell for anything other than shell bowling. He complained that it was too small, that the hot and cramped space made him feel claustrophobic.

Now he's completely pulled inside, still and silent in a way Leo should never be.

For an eternity, Raph thinks he's too late. They came all the way here only to save Leo's corpse.

"Leo...?"

He kneels by the cot, reaching out and putting a hand on Leo's shell. He's cold to the touch, and it unsettles Raph even further. He shouldn't be this cold.

Raph keeps his hand where it is and stays very still and very quiet. And he waits.

And then he hears it, so faint he almost misses it: a terrified, whimpering chirp.

Leo is alive.

Raph feels tears spring to his eyes. He puts his other hand on Leo's shell, rubbing in big, soothing motions.

"Leo! Leo, it's me! We're here, we're getting you out! It's all going to be okay, just trust Big Raphie, alright?"

So saying, Raph straightens back up, and grabs Leo's shell in his hands to carry him out, to take his little brother home.

A hand shoots out of the shell, stick thin. Though it's clearly weak, it grabs on to Raph's arm with a desperate ferocity, clawing at the skin there.

Raph freezes, not putting Leo down but not lifting him any further, either. He peers into the gap in Leo's shell, and sees eyes peering back at him, glassy and wide and full of terror. A cornered animal fighting for his life.

Raph takes a deep breath. He summons all the love he has for Leo, all the relief he feels at finding him alive, all the happiness he has from having his little brother in his arms again, and he pours it into a genuine smile, no matter the danger outside.

"Hey, Leo," he says, voice soft. "It's just me. Raph came to get ya. Everything's okay now."

A second passes, then five, then twenty. April starts to come in, but Raph waves a finger at her to tell her to go back before she startles Leo. He keeps the smile on his face, his eyes locked on Leo's, his hold secure but non-threatening.

And then, slowly, Leo pokes his head out.

"Raph?" he asks, in a voice that is exhausted and hoarse and warbling and absolutely beautiful.

"Yeah," says Raph, blinking tears back. "Hey, buddy."

Steadily, Leo unfurls the rest of himself, one limb emerging at a time. He looks terrible. His cheeks are sunken and gaunt, his skin is an unhealthy color, his eyes are ringed by dark black circles showing off how little he's slept.

Raph is so happy to see him. He so wishes this wasn't the state he was finding Leo in. If he could turn back time and make it so Leo never suffered, he would in a heartbeat. But he's so happy to have Leo back that the tears keep flowing.

The grip Leo has on his arm shifts. No longer trying to claw himself free, but grabbing on, holding still, with all the same desperation as before. His eyes search Raph's face, over and over until it seems he's finally satisfied.

"Raph," he repeats, and it's not a question this time.

"Yeah," Raph says anyway. "I'm here."

He lifts Leo the rest of the way, cradling Leo against his chest. Leo's so much lighter than he should be, and Raph feels a sharp pain in his heart over it.

It's okay. They'll leave. They'll take care of him. And then Leo will be all better again.

Leo shifts himself, reaching one arm up and hooking it around Raph's neck. Just that much movement seems to sap a lot of energy, and he slumps his head against Raph, giving up on holding it upright. It reminds Raph of when they were little and he would carry Leo to bed, before Leo started insisting he's too old for that.

"Am I dreaming?" Leo whispers.

Raph's heart breaks, but he doesn't lose his smile. "Nope. You're wide awake."

"Then..." Leo nuzzles closer. "Can we go home?"

"Yeah." Raph sniffles, shifting his grip so he can get a hand free without disturbing Leo. "We can go home."

Leo doesn't say anything more, just hums quietly against Raph's neck. Raph wipes his tears away, then turns and carries Leo out of the room.

-----

Bishop is still against the wall; it's Draxum's vines holding him there now.

When Leo sees him, he shrinks into himself, crossing the arm not hooked around Raph over his chest. Raph turns his body so Leo is shielded from view, glaring hard at Bishop as he does.

"Didn't do anything to him, huh?" he asks, voice icy.

"He is unharmed," says Bishop, equally cold. Raph wants to kill him.

"That's enough out of you," says Draxum, and a new vine wraps around Bishop's mouth. That shuts him up.

April's eyes are wide, her hand over her mouth as she looks at Leo, but she quickly pulls herself together, her expression turning to one of hard steel. She comes closer, only softening when Leo's eyes lock on her.

"Hey, Leo," she says, reaching up and giving his arm a pat. "How're you feelin'?"

"Happy to see you," Leo rasps, and it's so sincere that Raph feels tears spring to his eyes again. April has to blink hard behind her glasses.

"We're really happy to see you, too."

"Yes, everyone is happy now," says Draxum, though his eyes are worried as they look Leo over. "But we still need to get out of here."

"Right." April opens the door back into the offices, letting Raph through, before she pulls up her wrist to talk into her Donnie tech. "Guys, you there?"

"We're here, April," comes Donnie's voice. "We've extracted the information and we're on our way to meet you."

"Great." She smiles up at Raph. "We got Leo."

"Leo!" Mikey's voice comes booming through the radio, loud enough that April cringes and leans back. Raph can hear Donnie make a noise of protest in the background. "Is he okay!? Can I talk to him!? Did he miss me!?"

April raises her wrist so the tech is in front of Leo's mouth. He tilts his head towards it, saying, "Course I missed you."

"LEO!" screams Mikey even louder, and Raph thinks he hears the shout from somewhere in the building, too.

"-key, give me back my arm-" comes Donnie's voice, then there's an exaggerated throat clearing before he's saying, "We'll be there in one minute. Be ready to move."

"We're ready," Raph assures him. They move to the door and watch for the others to appear.

-----

Days of stress seem to fall off his brothers and Splinter when they see Leo.

Raph wishes they could have all the hugs and reassurances he knows they all need, but there's just no time; they're still in enemy territory, and the man who hurt his brother the most is just behind two doors, only being held by Draxum's vines. There's time only for brief shoulder touches and for Splinter to jump up on Raph's shoulder and give Leo's forehead a quick, relieved kiss.

Raph gives the rest of his family a quick glance over. Mikey is carrying Leo's gear, the katana sheathed across his shell and the rest of it slung over his shoulder. They haven't gotten any injuries, as far as he can tell. Everyone looks good to go.

"How do we get out of here?" asks Raph. Donnie pulls up his wrist tech.

"It may be inevitable that we'll face resistance on our way out... But the closest door is this way." He points down the hall, back the way Raph, Draxum, and April came from.

There's a weak thump against Raph's shoulder. "Gunners on the roof," Leo rasps once he has Raph's attention.

Raph wonders how he knows that, but there's no time to ask.

"We took care of 'em," he says instead. "You just relax, okay? We're getting out of here."

Leo lets his head fall against Raph's shoulder again, and Raph takes that as the okay to move.

It takes less time to get out than it did to get in. No need for stealth now that the director knows they're here, after all.

They run down the hallways, through doors, past the still unconscious guard April took care of earlier. Draxum takes the lead through the door, and they all crash as a group outside.

Where a ring of soldiers are waiting for them, guns trained their direction. And Raph isn't sure they're loaded with darts this time.

Leo shudders in his arms, and Raph curls protectively around him, already summoning his ninpo to shield them. His family forms their own protective barrier around the two of them, readying their weapons and squaring off against the soldiers.

Behind them, the door opens.

"This doesn't have to end in anyone getting hurt," says Bishop as he walks out.

Raph doesn't turn towards him, keeping the shivering Leo out of his sight. "What, like you didn't hurt my brother?"

"I've already told you, I didn't touch him." Bishop sounds only mildly put out. "He can attest to that himself."

"It's cute that you think any of us care what you have to say," snaps April, rounding on him and pointing her bat his direction.

"You should care what I have to say." Bishop nods at Raph. "Your comrade needs medical attention. Care that I can provide, if you lower your weapons and surrender."

"Care he only needs 'cause you jerks kidnapped him!" yells Mikey.

"Mikey," whispers Leo. Raph glances down at him, but Leo isn't looking his way.

"I gave Inmate 24365 plenty of chances to cooperate in exchange for more comfortable living conditions. That he declined was his choice. But I have no wish to see him dead. We were going to transfer him to the medical unit just as you arrived and interrupted us; surrender, and we'll take him there now."

"No," snaps Splinter, stepping toward Bishop. "You will come nowhere near my sons ever again."

"Mikey," Leo hisses with more urgency.

"These turtles are your sons? Really?" Bishop sounds disbelieving. Raph still doesn't turn his direction. "What am I supposed to believe next? That humans can give birth to birds?"

"They are my sons!" Splinter asserts. "Come near them again, and you are dead!"

"Perhaps we should kill him now, Lou Jitsu, and be done with it," Draxum suggests.

"Mikey," says Leo, kicking one emaciated foot. Mikey finally looks their way, confused. "Gimme... swords."

He doesn't have to explain. But Raph feels uneasy. He exchanges a glance with Donnie, who seems similarly concerned. "Nardo, I don't think-"

"Hey," says Leo, and even though his vocal chords sound tired and out of use, they can all hear him, their confident face-man of a brother, with a big ego and a cocky tone, shining through. "Trust me, I got this."

Mikey gives him the katana.

"The American government have allowed the yokai to live peacefully within our borders up until now," says Bishop. "If you kill me, that peace will be ruined."

"This war was started when you kidnapped my child!" cries Splinter, snapping his tail.

"You threaten the Hidden Cities as though you know anything about them," says Draxum. "They do not fear you."

"We know more about them than you think."

"You expect me to listen to this blathering?"

"Is it a chance you're willing to take, Draxum?"

Draxum falls silent. The lack of answer makes Raph feel even more on edge. But Leo is holding his katana now.

"You'll threaten the yokai no matter what we do today," says Splinter, voice dark. "No. We will not hand Leonardo over to you. You will not lay a single finger on him."

"So you're saying you won't surrender." Bishop pauses. Leo takes a deep breath. "You agree, Draxum?"

"...Leonardo is my creation. My son." Draxum sounds resolute. "No. I will not surrender."

Bishop scoffs. "Your son... this animal."

It's only the fact that he's holding Leo, fragile and shaking in his arms, that keeps Raph from turning around and killing Bishop right then.

But he doesn't, and Bishop raises his voice.

"Baron Draxum is a known yokai terrorist, who has threatened mass murder on the civilian human population of the United States and the rest of the earth. These five yokai are co-conspirators, and this woman with them a sympathizer and accomplice. They are attacking this base with the intent to harm those inside, and so anything we do now is self defense."

There's a smile in his tone as he says it.

"Fire at will."

Around them, triggers are pulled, and gunshots sound off.

But the flash of blue under their feet is faster.

For the first time since coming outside, Raph chances a look over his shoulder at Bishop, just as he's falling through the portal. Bullets whiz overhead, and one hits home.

The last thing Raph sees as he disappears into the blue light is blood blooming across Bishop's suit.

-----

They fall out of the portal somewhere outside the fence. Raph's not sure exactly where. He's not even sure Leo was aiming, beyond getting them away.

He lets out a relieved laugh, looking around at everyone, in one piece and notably not shot. They still have to get back to the tank, but they made it. They're safe.

"Leo! You did it!" He whoops, looking down at his little brother. "I can't believe you really- ...Leo?"

That's when he realizes that Leo isn't moving.

He's slumped over in Raph's hold, no longer holding himself up. His katana slip out of his lax grip and fall into the snow with a soft whump.

"L-leo!? LEO!"

Part 1 | Part 2 (here) | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A |

[ineedpaigebuckets]

Pazzi angst fluff!!!

protect you

an: first one shot!!! TRIGGER WARNING HANNAH HIDALGO MENTIONED!!! anyways enjoy!!!

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

paige was just lying on azzis chest as they watched home alone at azzis parents house. everyone else was asleep so it was just the two of them. ice being the instigator she is texted paige a tiktok of a hannah hidalgo live. paige watched the video volume on low so azzi couldn't hear. "what do you think of azzi fudd, i don't think about her what are you talking about." "there was no azzi in that game. congratulations! nobody asked." the words irked paige in a way she'd rather not describe she just huffed and started frantically typing out this long ass paragraph in hannah's dms before azzi heard the sound of typing.

"paige baby whatchu so stressed about?" she asked her voice soft as she places a soft hand on paige's cheek.

"fuckin hate hidalgo." she groans still typing. azzi gently tries to take paige's phone out of her hand but she doesn't budge.

"stop it azzi!" she says her voice more annoyed than usual causing azzi to flinch back.

"paige what is your problem." snatches paige's phone shoving it under her butt causing paige to sit up next to her climbing off of her chest.

"you didn't see her fucking live it was all "azzi fudd this azzi fudd that" blah blah blah bad mouthing my girl." azzi groaned and rolled her eyes. brushing her hair out of her face so she could properly yell at paige.

"paige i don't give a fuck what she has to say. i promise you it's fine. now what were you typing?" she asks pulling the phone back out and reading the text paige had wrote. still unsent thank god. azzi reads the message.

"fucking talk about my girl like that one more time and you're gonna find yourself trouble. this ain't about basketball and you know it. you gotta problem with me and my girlfriend say it to my fucking face not the whole internet. you're immature and you have no class-"

that's where azzi took the phone. her mouth is hung open as she reads the words and she stands up.

"paige madison you were not about to throw away your fucking career over this. you can't just say that." she's clearly mad. but all in good reason, she wanted paige to be the best she could be, get all the awards win all the games, the championships anything she could, this was not gonna help.

"you think i wouldn't do that to stand up for you azzi." paige doesn't stand up, she stays seated, her anger all gone as she realized azzi was right. but her words were true. if it had hurt azzi in anyway she'd send it in a second.

"m'sorry i just wanna protect you." azzis face drops at paige's sweet words and she sits back in the spot on her couch with a huff.

"you're so fucking stupid." azzi grumbles but the cant hide the small smile on her face. she's deleted the paragraph and turned off paige's phone. of course paige crawls over and curls back into azzis chest.

"jus love you" she mumbles into azzis shirt and she can't help but hold the blonde close.

"i know i love you too so much." she whispers pressing soft kisses against her forehead.

"next time talk to me first alright. think before you act." paige nods and turns her attention back to the movie and the beautiful girl underneath her.

[03jyh23]

🌷⌇i'm not afraid anymore finding our way back part 1; a choi jongho mini-series

ex-boyfriend!idol!jongho x ex-girlfriend!single-mom!reader

│series masterlist│ │next part│

│synopsis: five years have passed since jongho last saw you. your lives have taken drastically different paths, with jongho achieving fame and you focusing on raising your daughter, nari, in quiet anonymity. when jongho discovers he has a daughter, he's determined to be a part of her life.

│genre: a slice of life, romance, fluff, some angst

│trigger warnings: unplanned pregnancy, illegitimate child, single parenthood

│words: 12.8 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! so it's finally out 😭😭😭 i kept you waiting long enough, didn't i? so, i once again wrote about parenthood... i'm sure some of you expected this story to go in a whole other direction, but i still hope this is a nice surprise! i wanted to dedicate this one to @jjongbearshoney, who's been waiting for it since the first part was posted. i know it's long and i've tried to make this part shorter, but i couldn't force myself to delete any of it. i'm hopeful some of you will still choose to read this.

love, mon ♡

you

"Mommy?" Your daughter tightened her grip on your hand as you walked home from preschool. You hummed in response, looking down at her. "Why is it just you and me?" she asked, furrowing her brow. 

"What do you mean, Nari?" your daughter paused; her big eyes filled with fear. "You know you can tell Mommy everything," you added when she hesitated.

"Why don't I have a dad like my friends?" she finally asked. Your heart dropped. You knew this day would come when Nari would start comparing her family to others, but you were unprepared for the moment. You had never discussed Jongho with Nari; the last thing you wanted was for her to hate him for his absence. She had never asked before, so you had hoped that the time would never come when she would become curious about her dad. But as she grew older and started to understand the world around her, you knew that this question was inevitable. 

What you did instead of talking about Jongho, you introduced Nari to ATEEZ. Since she was little, you would play their songs, and she grew up dancing in your arms to them. You two would spend time together, sitting in front of the television and watching their shows. With every episode, every song, and every interview, her admiration for the band continued to grow. It was a shared experience, one that brought you both closer together, and her love for the band grew right along with her. What made everything better was that Nari's favorite member of ATEEZ was Wooyoung. You couldn't help but think about how disappointed Jongho would be if he ever found out. His own daughter had chosen another member as her favorite. It was a thought that often brought a smile to your face.

You never once resented Jongho for choosing his music career over you. You understood that he was born to be on stage, to pour his soul into his music. Your heart was shattered when you two parted ways, but then you discovered you were pregnant with Nari. You knew then that you had to be strong and that you had to be the best mom possible for her. It was challenging, especially when she was born and bore such a striking resemblance to Jongho. It played with your emotions sometimes. 

You knelt to meet her gaze. Her round face, sweet cheeks, and hazel-brown eyes each time reminded you of the man you once loved. 

"Nari, your daddy is really busy," you began, unsure of how to continue the conversation. "But Mommy is sure he loves you very much," you reassured as you smoothed her hair, attempting to smile. "I know your friends' daddies are around." You tried to keep your voice steady, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Just because he's not here, doesn't mean he doesn't love you," you told her, seeking to comfort both her and you. 

With a certain sadness in her eyes, she expressed her wishes, "I'd really like it if he wasn’t so busy all the time," she complained. As she pouted, a wave of empathy washed over you, causing your heart to break for her. 

"I know, baby," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you fought to control the emotion threatening to overwhelm you. "Do you want me to tell you more about your daddy?" you asked softly, ready to share the stories of you two. Nari nodded, and a smile finally appeared on her pretty face. ‘’Alright so we will buy you your favorite ice cream and you can ask whatever you want, how does this sound?’’ Without uttering a word, Nari gently nodded and stretched out her hand towards you. Accepting her silent invitation, you felt the warmth of her delicate fingers in yours. As you walked hand in hand, you could see the excitement in her eyes as she pulled you in the direction of her most adored destination - her favorite local ice cream store. 

Entering the store, you ordered the ice cream and chose a seat next to the window. A sense of nervousness washed over you at the thought of speaking so openly about Jongho after all those years. But you knew deep down, it was time to face it. You took a deep breath, staring out the window as you waited for your order. The streets were busy with people going about their day. The ice cream arrived, a sweet distraction, but it did nothing to quell the anxiety churning in your stomach. You picked up your spoon and took the first bite, letting the familiar taste flood your senses. 

"Tell Mommy, what do you want to know?" you finally asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the small store. You held your breath, waiting for her reply, bracing yourself for the questions that were bound to come from your curious four-year-old. Nari thought for a moment, her small brow furrowing in concentration. 

"Everything," she finally said, her voice soft, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "I want to know everything." You chuckled at her response; it was moments like these that made motherhood such an incredible journey. You took her small hand in yours, 

"I met your dad at a coffee shop," you started, your voice filled with nostalgia."It was a warm summer afternoon, just like today. He walked in, and when I saw him, it was as if time had stopped for that moment." 

Nari was thoroughly enjoying her lemon ice cream as she continued to savor her treat, she curiously glanced over at you. She wondered if her dad also shared her love for this dessert. With a playful smile still smeared on her ice cream-covered lips, she asked, "Did he order ice cream?" 

You giggled at her question, "No, I think he ordered an iced americano." You remember the day as if it was yesterday. Jongho had ordered and chose to sit at the furthest table possible. You were sitting close to the cash desk, stealing glances at him sometimes, admiring him. He was writing something in a big notebook, so engrossed that he didn't hear the barista calling him to pick up his order. So, you decided to test your luck and brought his coffee to him. As you approached him, your heart pounded in your chest. It was as though you could hear it echoing throughout the quiet café. You set the coffee down gently on his table, not wanting to disturb his concentration. Startled, he looked up and locked eyes with you. His eyes were warm and inviting, a soft 'thank you' escaping his lips. You returned the sentiment with a shy smile, not trusting yourself to say anything. 

"Why would he order coffee when he could have an ice cream?" Nari asked, finding it strange that someone would choose coffee over ice cream. 

"Your dad is a little bit different, Nari," you said, smiling gently. "He really loved his coffee. He said it helped him think and focus. But don't worry, he loved ice cream too. Just like you, he had a sweet tooth." 

"Will Daddy buy me ice cream next time?" she asked as she was finishing her dessert. 

"I'm sure he would love to," you replied, smiling at her. "One day, if he's not too busy, I'm sure he'll take you to get ice cream. Would you like that?" Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes lighting up at the prospect. Just the thought of spending a day with her dad made her heart flutter with joy. You knew what needed to happen next. You had to create an opportunity for her to meet Jongho. Even though it might hurt, Nari should meet her dad at least once. Her happiness was most important. You knew you needed to put your own feelings aside for her. This next step might be hard and painful, but as her mom, you knew it was what you should do. 

"Then Mommy will make sure Daddy will take you next time," you promised, your heart aching at the hopeful look in her eyes. You would do whatever it took to give her the happiness she deserved. 

On your way back home, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. This heartfelt conversation with Nari had helped clear your mind. Finally talking about the man, you loved brought you a strange sense of nostalgia, yet you also felt content. After all these years, you have finally been able to share your story, your feelings, and your past with your daughter. It was as if a burden you didn’t even know you were carrying had been lifted from your shoulders. The walk home was peaceful, the cool evening breeze brushing against your face as the last rays of the setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange. 

In no time, you reached your apartment complex. Nari was running around the playground with the neighbor's puppy chasing after her. She was the sweetest creature. She was fascinated by the world, loved animals, and her soul was just so pure. You felt an immense amount of happiness to be her mom. 

"Grandma!" Nari exclaimed, her face lighting up with sheer joy the moment she spied her grandma approaching from a distance. Upon arrival, your mother warmly greeted Nari with a tender embrace. After a moment, they both made their way over to where you were standing. You were taken aback, surprised to see your mother in your presence without any prior notice. 

With a puzzled expression, you turned towards her and asked, "Mom, why didn't you tell me you were coming?" 

"I wanted to see you and Nari," your mother admitted, her voice warm. You could see the sincerity in her eyes. You could feel the lump forming in your throat as you listened to her. It was a comforting reassurance, knowing you weren't alone in this. "And I hoped I would be welcomed for dinner," she said with a playful tone in her voice while gently placing Nari on the ground. A glint of laughter shone in her eyes.

"Absolutely," you responded, your smile wide and welcoming. The sincerity in your voice was enough to assure her that the invitation was genuine. You reached down and took one of Nari's small hands in yours, feeling the softness of her tiny fingers against your palm. Your mom mirrored your action, reaching for Nari's other hand, her fingers wrapping around the little one's hand with a natural gentleness. For a moment, the three of you stood there, a small, connected chain, silent and content in each other's company. Then, with Nari's laughter filling the air around you, you all began to move, making your way to your small apartment. The moment was simple, yet filled with a warmth that spoke of familiarity, of home. 

You finally reached your floor and stepped into the comforting familiarity of your apartment. As the door closed behind you, a wave of relief washed over you. This was your sanctuary, your escape from the hustle and bustle of the outside world. Your apartment was small, with one room occupied by Nari, and a combined living room and kitchen where you also slept. The bathroom was big enough to fit a bathtub and a washing machine. It was far from perfect, but nobody truly knows how hard it is to be a single mom, barely making ends meet, especially when you were still so young. Sometimes, you felt ashamed of the way you lived your life, as you wanted Nari to grow up in a better place, a home with a beautiful garden and a seesaw. But you could barely afford this apartment, buying a new house was never an option. So, you took a lot of care to ensure that your apartment was always neat and clean. Every item had its own place, and there was a sense of order and tranquility that pervaded the space. 

You found Nari, tired yet excited from the day's activities, eagerly awaiting your attention. With gentle hands and a warm smile, you took her to her room and helped her change into more comfortable clothes. Nari’s room was everything she had ever dreamed of. It was her own little wonderland that mirrored her innocent dreams and youthful enthusiasm. All her favorite toys were thoughtfully displayed around the room, adding to its charm and making it a truly magical place for her. The toys ranged from dolls to action figures, to stuffed animals, each one with its own special place in Nari’s heart. The most striking feature of the room was her small bed, adorned with a beautiful canopy. This bed was more than just a place for her to rest; it was her castle, her secret hideout. It was here that Nari would sleep like a real princess, after a day full of adventures and playful activities. Guarding her while she slept were her loyal teddy bears. These soft and cuddly guardians were always there by her side, watching over her. They were not just toys, but her friends, and protectors. Nari even made you print out a picture of Wooyoung, which she lovingly framed and placed on her tiny desk. It became her most prized possession. Every detail in the room reflected Nari’s personality and vivid imagination, making it a perfect haven for her. 

As Nari settled down, you decided to play her favorite Disney movie. The familiar tunes filled the room, and Nari's eyes lit up at the sight of her beloved characters. While Nari was engrossed in her movie, you made your way to the kitchen. Your mom has already started preparing your meal. The sight of her working her magic in the kitchen, coupled with the tantalizing smells, made your stomach rumble in anticipation. 

"So, Nari asked about her dad today," you started, your voice barely above a whisper. As the words left your mouth, your mother froze in her place. Her eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and concern in her gaze. The room fell silent, the only sound being the sizzle from the pan on the stove. "Mom, I feel lost. I don't know what to do," you confessed, your voice trembling with uncertainty. 

"Do you want them to meet, honey?" your mom asked. Her gaze was steady, her eyes never leaving yours. She was searching for an answer, not just in your words, but also in your expression. There was a hint of concern in her voice which was understandable. After all, it was a significant moment, a decision that could change the dynamics of everything. You hesitated for a moment, weighing the possibilities in your mind. You could feel your mom's expectant gaze on you, and it somehow made the decision harder. 

After what felt like an eternity, you finally spoke. "Yes, mom. I want them to meet." Your voice was firm, but inside, you were bracing yourself for the changes that were about to come. Your worlds were about to collide, your secrets were about to unravel, and you could only hope that in the end, everything would fall into place. "But I don't want him to know that Nari is his," you admitted shyly. There was a moment of silence as you pondered over your words.

"Honey, I know you might be scared, but I believe it's high time he found out the truth," she said, her voice softer now, yet resolute and unwavering. She cast a glance down at her hands, her fingers intertwined, and when she looked up at you again, there was a raw determination in her eyes that you hadn't seen before. "He needs to know that he has a daughter. That he's a father. It's not just about you anymore, it's also about Nari. She will be 4 soon and deserves to know her father. It's time for you to step up and let him in on the reality of his situation." 

"I'm not going to tell him, Mom," you replied firmly, your resolve clear in your tone. "I wouldn't risk Jongho's career like that," you said, speaking more to yourself than your mother. "I was prepared to spend a lifetime without him knowing the truth." Despite the fear and uncertainty, a sense of resolve washed over you. Your mom sighed heavily; you know it wasn’t the response she wanted to hear. 

"Even if you somehow end up meeting him, do you think he's stupid?" she asked abruptly. Her question was unexpected, and it caught you off guard. 

"What do you mean?" you responded, taken aback by the sudden change in her tone and line of questioning. 

"One look at Nari, and he's going to know the truth!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with conviction. "Nari looks exactly like him!" your mom slightly raised her voice. "I have never seen Jongho with my own eyes, but even if my judgment is based only on how he looks on TV… Honey, her eyes, her smile... they are all his," she continued, the room fell silent, you were lost in your own thoughts. You knew that the resemblance was not just physical, Nari had also inherited his mannerisms and charisma. 

"I... I hadn't thought of that," you admitted, feeling a sudden knot tighten in your stomach. The realization that Jongho could easily figure out the truth was alarming. "I'll figure something out, Mom. I promise." You said, trying to reassure her despite the sinking feeling in your chest. 

"If you don't have his phone number, maybe you should contact his company?" your mother suggested, her voice filled with concern. You stared at her, aghast at her suggestion. 

"Mom, are you crazy? That's the last thing I'd want to do," you retorted, shaking your head at the absurdity of the idea. 

Your mother's eyebrows rose in surprise at your response. "Well, I was just trying to help," she said, a hint of hurt in her voice. 

You sighed, regretting your harsh words. "I know, Mom. I'm sorry. It's just... complicated," you admitted, rubbing your temples. The last thing you wanted was to involve his company in this matter. 

"Let's just try to find another way, okay?" you suggested, hoping to steer the conversation toward a more productive direction. You focused on the task at hand, the act of cooking providing a much-needed distraction from the whirlpool of thoughts threatening to consume you. Each chop and stir was mechanical, your mind elsewhere. You were desperate to find a way to let Nari meet Jongho but figuring out how to do that without jeopardizing his career or causing a scandal was proving to be more difficult than you had initially anticipated. 

After dinner, you helped Nari with her bedtime routine. Meanwhile, your mom was busy cleaning up after dinner. While assisting Nari, you could hear running water from the kitchen and clinking dishes being put away. With Nari finally tucked in, you joined your mom in the kitchen to lend a hand. The teamwork made the task lighter, and the kitchen was soon spotless. 

"Take her to his concert, you could buy a VIP ticket so you two could meet him." your mom suddenly broke the silence between you two. You looked up at her in surprise. A concert? The idea was so far-fetched that you couldn't help but laugh. But as you glanced at your mother, you realized she was serious. "Think about it. She gets to see her dad and you don’t have to say anything," she suggested, the idea not sounding as ridiculous now. It might work. And then, you could see how he reacts to Nari. If he shows any sign of recognition, you could consider telling him the truth. Yes, it might just work."Besides, we know how much she loves her 'Uncle' Wooyoung, and I'm sure she would be so happy to go and see him live," your mom added. 

"That idea isn't bad, Mom, but do you know how expensive the tickets are? There's no way I can afford two," you replied, worry evident in your voice. Concert tickets, especially for a band as popular as ATEEZ, could be incredibly pricey. You were doing your best to provide for Nari, but luxuries like concert tickets were simply out of your reach. 

"What if I will get you the tickets?" your mom asked. You stared at her, shocked by her proposition. Your mom rarely splurged on anything, always preferring to save for a rainy day. Seeing your surprise, she laughed. "I know it seems out of character for me, but I want to do this for you and Nari. I want her to have this experience, and maybe it will lead to something more." She gave you a hopeful smile, her eyes filled with love and determination. 

"Mom, I can't ask you for so much…" you protested, feeling a pang of guilt at the thought of your mother paying for the tickets. "It's too much." But your mom was already shaking her head, cutting off your protest. 

"This isn't about money, it's about Nari," she said firmly. "And if this gives her a chance to meet her father, then it's worth every penny." You could see the determination in her eyes, and you knew there was no point in arguing. She had made up her mind, and when she did, there was no changing it. 

"Okay," you finally agreed, knowing that this was the best chance Nari had to meet Jongho. "Thank you, Mom." She simply nodded, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and satisfaction. You realized then that despite everything, your mom was still looking out for you. She was still willing to do anything to make sure you and Nari were happy. Your heart pounded in your chest as you took your phone in your hands, searching for ATEEZ events. You scrolled through the results, your eyes skimming the details. Suddenly, one specific event caught your attention. It was a free event, happening in just two days. You gasped, your eyes widening in surprise. A free event? 

"Mom? I think we hit a jackpot," you smiled, as you showed your mom your phone. 

"A free event?" she exclaimed, happily clapping her hands. You were taken aback by her reaction but couldn't help but share in her excitement. You hugged her tightly, her happiness radiating onto you. You picked up your phone once again, and quickly booked the free tickets. With a deep sigh, you turned to your mother, gently taking her hands in yours.

"I'm going to see him, Mom," you whispered softly. The words hung heavy in the air, a mix of fear, anticipation, and longing. It was as if all the pent-up emotions you had been holding back came flooding out at that moment. Tears finally began to stream down your face, unabashed and unhindered. They traced wet tracks on your cheeks, a poignant testament to the heartfelt emotions you were experiencing. It was a cathartic release that revealed your true feelings. Your heart ached with a desperate longing, a yearning that had been simmering underneath the surface all this time. The lump in your throat eased, replaced with a strange sense of tranquility. All the nervousness, the apprehension that had been your constant companion, seemed to have evaporated. It was as if acknowledging your feelings had liberated you from their hold, allowing you to finally breathe. The realization hit you then, sudden and profound. You were going to see Jongho, the man you had loved with all your heart, once more. The thought brought a twinge of excitement, a dash of fear, and a whole lot of love. It was a second chance, a final goodbye, a moment you knew you would remember for the rest of your life. 

Two days have passed like two hours. It felt like you had just blinked and suddenly, you were standing with Nari, hand in hand, in a line buzzing with anticipation. You were nervous, your heart pounding in your chest. Nari, on the other hand, was brimming with excitement. She was bubbling with joy at the prospect of seeing her 'Uncle' Wooyoung, blissfully unaware of the real reason you were both there. The line moved forward gradually and with each step, your heart pounded harder. You glanced at Nari, who was chatting away excitedly about all the fun things she'd do with Wooyoung. Her innocence and cheerfulness were infectious, easing your nerves slightly. As you got closer to the front of the line, you could see ATEEZ up ahead, their warm smiles greeting each fan. 

And then you saw Jongho, being the second to last, signing an album and holding a fan's hand while he did so. His focus was entirely on the task at hand, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration. He would occasionally look up to make eye contact with the fan, offering them a warm smile. It was as though your world had stopped. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding as if it were trying to escape from your chest. It had been almost five years since you last saw him. He had changed - his face was more mature, his eyes held a deeper wisdom, and the lines of his smile seemed to tell stories you weren't a part of. Yet, amidst all the changes, he was still the same Jongho you remembered, the same Jongho you had fallen for. The distance and the years that had passed had not made your heart forget. The sight of him brought back a flood of memories, some sweet, some bitter, but all precious. Standing there, seeing him after all this time, you realized – you were not afraid anymore. You were ready to face him, ready to face the past. 

When it was finally your turn, you gently nudged Nari forward. Her face lit up when she saw Wooyoung. She quickly seated herself in a chair across from the table where he was sitting. Then, she stood on the chair, stepped onto the table, and her hands swiftly found their way around Wooyoung's neck. Wooyoung was startled at first, taken aback by Nari's sudden, enthusiastic hug. You were shocked too, having no time to react to Nari's swift actions. But your breath hitched when Wooyoung recovered from his initial surprise and smiled, hugging Nari back. The atmosphere quickly filled with warmth as Wooyoung returned Nari's hug with equal affection. The surprise on his face was replaced by a soft smile, his arms wrapping around her in a comforting embrace. You watched this heartfelt moment unfold, your heart fluttering in your chest. The shock from earlier had completely dissipated, replaced by a sense of relief and happiness. It was clear to you that despite the abruptness of Nari's actions, Wooyoung was happy to hug her back. 

"Hi there, little one," he greeted with a warm smile on his face. 

"Uncle Wooyoung!" Nari responded kindly, her laughter tinkling in the air as she beamed back at him. The sight was enough to melt your heart. However, your moment of joy was short-lived as you noticed the stern look from the security guard. His gaze was fixed on your daughter, clearly annoyed with her actions. Although you understood his perspective, it was hard to stop a child from being excited in such moments. You quickly intervened, trying to maintain the peace. You gently took Nari from Wooyoung's warm embrace and brought her back to her chair. She pouted a little, clearly not happy about being moved away from her favorite person. 

"I'm sorry," you apologized, turning to face Wooyoung. Wooyoung simply shook his head and laughed, clearly not bothered by what had just happened.

"It's okay," he said, his voice filled with understanding. You handed him the album that you had brought along, and as he took it from your hands to sign it, Nari put her small hand on top of Wooyoung’s. 

"My name is Nari," she said, a soft yet firm assertion that hung in the air between them. Her gaze was unwavering, locked onto his face as if searching for something within him, something perhaps only she could see. After signing the album, Wooyoung handed it back to you. 

"It was nice to meet you, Nari," he said, a genuine smile as he gently patted Nari's hair. 

"Nari, it's time to go," you softly announced, lifting the small girl into your arms, there were still other members of the band you had yet to meet. Nari, however, was not so ready to move on. She pouted adorably; her full attention still fixed on Wooyoung. 

"I love you, Uncle Wooyoung," she declared, her innocent eyes wide and shimmering with admiration. Every word she spoke was filled with the pure, unfiltered affection that only a child could muster. Wooyoung, for his part, responded with an equal measure of warmth. His eyes softened at her words, a tender smile playing at the corners of his lips. He cooed at her cuteness; his heart clearly touched by her innocent proclamation. 

"I love you too, Nari," he replied, his voice filled with genuine affection. He waved back at her, his smile never faltering even as the next fan made their approach. As you moved away, you felt a sense of anticipation bubbling up within you. You were ready to introduce Nari to the rest of the band, ready to create more beautiful memories. Nari was thrilled to meet the other band members. Perhaps not as much as she was when she met Wooyoung, but she still charmed each and every one of them with her delightful spirit. Seonghwa, Mingi, Yunho, Yeosang, and San were all absolutely enchanted by their little fan, their hearts melting at the sight of her infectious joy. 

Then, it was time to face Jongho. As you approached him, your heartbeat echoed loudly in your ears. A lump formed in your throat, making it difficult to breathe. The world seemed to come to a standstill as you stood before him. His familiar eyes met yours, and in that moment, everything else faded into insignificance. 

"Hi…" The word was barely more than an apprehensive whisper, escaping from Jonhgo's lips. His gaze was fixed on you, a whirlpool of emotions swirling within his eyes. It had been almost five years since he had last seen you. Yet, as he looked at you now, it was as if time had stood still. You were still as beautiful, if not more, as the last time he saw you. Your enchanting smile and the mesmerizing glint in your eyes had the power to make his heart stutter within his chest. 

"I'm sorry to be showing up like this," you said, your voice carrying the weight of your uncertainty. You had rehearsed this moment countless times in your head, and yet now, standing in front of him, the words seemed to escape you. You sat down on the chair, passing him the album. 

"It’s fine… it’s so good to see you," Jongho responded, each word punctuated with sincerity. At that moment, he felt as if the world around him had melted away. All that mattered was you. His eyes were lost in yours, completely oblivious to the world around him. It was as if an invisible thread was pulling him towards you, making him oblivious to everything else. 

"I just…" you started, the words hanging in the air. But before you could give them shape, a small voice chimed in. 

"Hi Uncle Jongho! You are my Mommy's favorite" Nari greeted him with a wide grin spreading across her face, she cautiously yet excitedly maneuvered herself into your lap. Her eyes sparkled with uncontained joy as she looked up, her gaze meeting Jongho's, who was across the table, her smile growing even wider, if that was possible, at the sight of him. 

"Hi, little one! Well, your mom has great taste!" Jongho responded, his words laced with surprise. He hadn't expected this. 

"I really like your songs," the little girl confessed with an earnest expression. "Mommy told me that you're a good person and that we could be friends." The words hit Jongho like a punch in the gut. The realization that you had a daughter began to dawn on him. He quickly glanced at your fingers, searching for a wedding ring, but found none. Jongho's heart sank as a lump formed in his throat, his mind racing to piece together the puzzle before him. You weren't married, nor engaged, and the little girl nestled on your lap couldn't have been more than four years old. It didn't take long for him to make the connection— you must have been pregnant five years ago, and five years ago you were his. 

"I’m sure we will be great friends," Jongho replied, trying to keep his voice steady. His gaze never left yours, even as he addressed Nari. Jongho's eyes slowly drifted away from yours, lingering for a moment before he turned to look at Nari. He took his time, observing her closely. There was something about her that caught his attention. He couldn't help but see the resemblance - something in the way her eyes sparkled, the curve of her smile. As you were sitting with Nari in your lap, you couldn't help but notice Jongho's gaze fixed on her. His eyes were filled with adoration and curiosity, something that you found endearing. Gently, you shifted Nari off your lap. You took her small hand in yours, 

"Nari," you started, your voice as soft as a whisper, careful not to disrupt the lively chatter around you. Her big, innocent eyes looked up at you, her attention completely focused on you. "Would you wait for me next to the last uncle's table?" you asked her. Your tone was gentle, Nari simply nodded, her trust in you evident. She didn't ask why, didn't protest, she trotted off, her steps small and careful. Jongho's gaze was still on her, his eyes filled with the same adoration as before. The sight warmed your heart, solidifying the beautiful moment in your memory. 

"Is she mine?" The question was out in the open before he could stop himself. Jongho’s heart was pounding against his ribcage, and his hands were trembling, but he couldn't ignore the uncanny resemblance. 

"Jongho I…" you started but were quickly interrupted by Jongho's direct question. 

"She's mine, isn't she?" you feel your cheeks flush as you investigate Jongho's eyes, unsure of how to respond. Your heart beats faster as you gather the courage to answer him. 

"She's yours, Jongho," you finally admitted, the truth coming out in a whisper. All the color drained from his face at your words. He was a father. He had a daughter. His mind was reeling, struggling to process the enormity of what he had just learned. "I found out a month after we broke up" you confessed, your words barely a whisper. The weight of your words was almost too much to bear, and you found it impossible to meet his intense gaze. 

"Y/N, you know I can’t..." Jongho began, his voice was heavy with unspoken emotions. His hand, almost as if guided by an unseen force, reached out for you in a gesture of comfort and longing. 

"I just wanted her... our little girl, to see her dad, to meet you, at least once in her lifetime," you admitted, your voice shaking with the effort of holding back the torrent of tears threatening to spill. "I don’t expect anything in return." Jongho simply stared at you in silence, his expression unreadable. His gaze was intense, almost as if he was trying to read your thoughts. 

"I'll need some time to process this," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. The silence that followed was deafening, the tension in the air palpable. But for the first time in years, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. The truth was finally out, and despite the complexity of the situation, you felt a strange sense of peace. 

"I understand, Jongho, I don't expect anything from you," you replied, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. You knew this was a lot for him to take in. It wasn't easy for you either, but you were glad that he now knew about Nari. 

"Hey Nari!" You heard Jongho's voice asking for your daughter's attention. "Wouldn't you give me a hug?" Nari, who had been watching the exchange from a distance, hesitated for a moment before making her way towards Jongho. His smile widened as he crouched down to her level, opening his arms wide for her. Nari ran into his embrace, wrapping her small arms around his neck. Jongho held her close, his heart swelling with an indescribable emotion. As the security guard began to usher you away, a pang of regret washed over Jongho. Seeing you hustled away, Jongho felt a surge of urgency. He yearned to reach out, to clasp your hand and never release it, but time was eluding him. 

"Wait!" Jongho's desperate voice echoed as he stepped forward, stretching a hand towards you. But it was too late, you were already moved to Hongjoong’s table. Jongho slumped back into his seat, engulfed by defeat. He had let you slip through his grasp again, and now he was worried that he might never rectify his mistake. As he sat, absorbed in his thoughts, the image of Nari's innocent face haunted him. She resembled him so much with her broad eyes and radiant smile, yet she was a stranger—a reminder of the life he missed and the family he never knew he had. Engrossed in his thoughts, Jongho barely registered the next fan asking for an autograph. His thoughts were occupied by you and the daughter he never knew existed. As he autographed the fan's album, Jongho wondered if there was still hope for you and him, if perhaps fate might reunite them one day. 

As you approached Hongjoong's table with Nari, your heart raced with a mix of apprehension and resentment. You couldn't shake the memories of your last encounter, the painful words he had spoken, and the role he had played in driving you and Jongho apart. Hongjoong looked up from signing autographs, his expression unreadable as he locked eyes with you. There was a flicker of recognition in his gaze, followed by a hint of guilt that he quickly masked with a polite smile. 

"Hello," Hongjoong greeted you, his voice carefully neutral. "It's been a while." you forced a tight smile, your hands trembling slightly as you returned his greeting. 

"Yes, it has," you replied, her voice strained with tension. There was a palpable awkwardness between you two, as Hongjoong catches sight of Nari standing beside you, his eyes widen in surprise. There's an unmistakable resemblance between Nari and Jongho—the same sparkling eyes, the same dimpled smile—that sends a pang of nostalgia coursing through Hongjoong's heart. Nari beams up at Hongjoong, her innocence and warmth melting away any lingering tension in the air. 

"Hi Uncle Hongjoong!" she chirps, reaching out to shake Hongjoong's hand with childlike enthusiasm. As Hongjoong exchanges a few more pleasantries with Nari, you can't shake the feeling of unease that gnaws at the back of your mind. With a quick 'thank you' to Hongjoong, you took Nari in your arms and quickly made your way towards the exit. You didn't dare to look back, your heart pounding in your chest. As you walked away, you couldn't help but wonder if Hongjoong had made the connection. But it didn't matter anymore. You had done what you had come here to do. Nari had finally met her dad, and Jongho now knew about her existence. What would happen next was out of your hands. 

As you exited the venue, you could feel a sense of relief washing over you. The heavy burden that had been weighing on your heart for years was now lifted. You glanced at Nari, her face filled with joy and excitement, her eyes sparkling with pure innocence. You couldn't help but feel a sense of love and pride. Despite everything, you knew in your heart that you had made the right decision.  

jongho 

After what felt like an eternity, the fan meeting ended. Jongho's mind still reeling from the shock. He found himself rushing backstage into the tranquility of the dressing room that he shared with Hongjoong. He withdrew to a corner, away from the others, needing to be alone with his tumultuous thoughts. Images of Nari's face swirled in his mind, her innocent smile seared into his memory. He wrestled with a whirlwind of questions, his brain struggling to process the reality of his newfound fatherhood. 

"Why didn't you try to contact me?" He asked the empty room, his voice barely a whisper. The question echoed off the walls, a haunting reminder of the years he had missed. "Didn't I have a right to know sooner?" His voice broke as he voiced the question, the hurt evident in his tone. He was a father, but he had been oblivious to that fact for years. The knowledge filled him with a potent mix of joy and anguish. Joy at the thought of being a father, and anguish at the years he had missed, the moments he would never get back. The room felt suffocating, the silence deafening as the reality of the situation slowly sank in. He missed out on so much. He missed seeing you pregnant, a sight he was sure would have been beautiful. He missed being there for you when you were feeling sick when you needed him the most. He missed the birth of Nari, missed holding your hand through the labor. He missed her first tooth, her first steps, her first words. He even missed her first day of school. All these milestones in Nari's life, and he wasn't there for any of them. A sense of loss washed over him, a regret for all the moments he had missed, moments he could never get back. Jongho was alone, filled with anger. He felt betrayed, kept in the dark about his own daughter all these years. He was furious at everyone, including himself. His hands clenched into fists as he grappled with the reality of missed opportunities to be a father. 

As Hongjoong entered the dressing room, he could sense the storm of emotions raging within Jongho. The usually lively and cheerful atmosphere of the room was replaced by a heavy silence. Jongho was seated alone, lost in his thoughts. The look on his face was one of confusion and shock, a stark contrast to his usual cheerful demeanor. 

"Jongho..." Hongjoong began, hoping to break the silence. His voice was gentle, not wanting to startle his friend. Jongho looked up, his eyes meeting Hongjoong's. There was a vulnerability in Jongho's eyes that tugged at Hongjoong's heart. He knew Jongho needed to talk, to let out all the emotions that were bottled up inside him. 

"I know you have a lot on your mind because of Y/N showing up," Hongjoong said, taking a seat next to Jongho. His voice was soft, understanding. "And I'm here to listen, whenever you're ready to talk about this." His words hung in the air, offering a sense of comfort and support to Jongho. 

"I'm surprised you even remember her," Jongho scoffed, the hurt evident in his voice. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions and memories, all coming back at once. Breaking the silence that hung heavily in the room, Hongjoong finally voiced the question that had been lingering in everyone's minds, 

"Y/N's a mom now, how does it make you feel?" Hongjoong's voice was gentle, and cautious, as if he was afraid of shattering the fragile peace that had momentarily settled over them. He was aware that he was treading on thin ice, yet he also knew this was a conversation that needed to be held. 

"I don’t know" Jongho's voice broke, the words he needed to confess stuck in his throat. He needed to admit that he was the father, but he couldn't find the words. The situation was too raw, too fresh. He was scared to say it out loud. 

"Her daughter, she looks a bit like you," Hongjoong said gently, his gaze falling on his friend. "She has your eyes... your smile." As he spoke, Hongjoong's hand found its way to Jongho's shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. It was his way of encouraging Jongho, of letting him know that he wasn't alone in this.

Jongho finally broke down. His voice was barely a whisper as he admitted, "Because she's mine." His hands covered his face, trying to hide the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. His body trembled with the intensity of his emotions, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. "That night... when you told me to break up with Y/N, I..." He paused, struggling to find the right words. "I thought I was doing the right thing, for both of us." The memory of that night came rushing back to him, the pain, the confusion, the regret. He felt as though he was reliving that moment all over again. 

Hongjoong remained silent, listening to Jongho's confession. He could see the pain etched on his friend's face, the regret in his eyes. "Jongho, I..." he began, but Jongho cut him off. 

"I trusted you," Jongho continued, his voice choked with emotion. "I trusted you, and I let her go. But now... now I have found out that I have a daughter. A daughter that I didn't even know existed because I wasn't there for her... because I wasn't there for Y/N." His voice cracked the guilt and regret overwhelming him. "I missed out on so much because of that decision... because of you." Tears kept streaming down Jongho's face as he sobbed, he had lost so much - his love, his child, years of being a father - all because of a decision made years ago. And now, he didn't know how to deal with this overwhelming wave of regret and loss. "I don't know what to do," Jongho whispered, his eyes welling up with unshed tears. The weight of the revelations and the depth of his emotions were too much to bear. His heart felt heavy in his chest, the pain nearly unbearable. He felt lost, unsure of how to navigate the storm of emotions within him. The anger, the hurt, the betrayal... it was all too much. And yet, amidst all of that, there was also a profound sense of love; love for a child he had never known, but already cared for deeply. "What do I do now?" he asked, looking up with pleading eyes, desperate for guidance and a roadmap to navigate this new reality. Hongjoong was at a loss for words. He could see the pain in Jongho's eyes and feel the regret that filled the air around them.

"Jongho, I... I didn't know. I thought I was doing what was best for you. For your career. I never meant for this to happen," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with regret. But words were just words, and no apology could erase the years Jongho had lost. 

"When I hugged Nari, it was like love just hit me with the power of a train," Jongho continued, his gaze fixed on Hongjoong. "I couldn't believe she's mine. The moment she was in my arms, I felt this overwhelming urge to break down, to cry and apologize for not being there from the start. Y/N's been doing that all alone, Hongjoong," Jongho cried out, his voice choked with emotion. "I wasn't there... I didn't know... The pregnancy, the birth, and then raising a daughter... She has been all alone." His voice broke in the last words, the heart-wrenching reality hitting him hard. 

"Jongho, don’t blame yourself, you didn't know," Hongjoong finally spoke up, his voice filled with understanding and sympathy. "You still have a chance to make it right." 

"How am I supposed to make it right?" Jongho asked, his voice filled with desperation and confusion. "Only you knew about Y/N. I've never told the rest of the boys, nor the managers, nothing... How am I supposed to make it work now?" His words hung heavy in the air for a moment, the weight of his predicament settling in. Jongho looked down, a mix of frustration and despair etched on his face. "Maybe it's too late... Maybe I've already lost my chance." He murmured, the hopelessness in his voice echoing through the room. His heart ached at the thought of missing out on his daughter's life, all the moments he could have been there for her. 

"We'll find a way," Hongjoong said firmly, his voice tinged with determination. "We'll talk to the managers, to the members... We'll figure it out together." 

"What if Y/N doesn't want me in her life again?" Jongho asked, the fear in his voice almost palpable. The thought of you rejecting him, of not wanting him in your life anymore, terrified him. The silence that followed was deafening, the tension in the air palpable. 

"Jongho, Nari is your daughter," Hongjoong finally said, his voice steady and determined. "And regardless of what happened between you and Y/N, from now on she will always be a part of your life. You need to talk to Y/N, to understand her perspective and express your feelings. This is not only about Nari, but it's also about you and Y/N, about the life you could have together." After wiping away the last of his tears, Jongho took a deep breath, steadying himself. He knew what he had to do next.

"I need to reach out to Y/N," he said to himself, determination filling his voice. 

"Do you still have her number?" Hongjoong asked. Jongho nodded, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. He scrolled through his contacts until he found your name. He hesitated for a moment before showing the screen to Hongjoong. 

"But it's been five years... She could have changed it," Jongho voiced out his concern, the uncertainty clear in his voice. 

"Well, it doesn't hurt to try?" Hongjoong asked, smiling at Jongho. Jongho looked back at Hongjoong, his expression unreadable. There was a long pause before he finally nodded, his gaze determined.

"You're right," he said, "It doesn't hurt to try." 

"Nari will not only get her dad, but she will also get seven uncles. I promise the boys will love her so much. She will be so loved," Hongjoong said encouragingly. "So don't be afraid and talk to Y/N." Hongjoong's words hung in the air for a moment, creating a hopeful silence. Jongho looked at him, his sadness visibly subsiding, replaced by a glimmer of longing and anticipation. 

"You really think they'll accept her? Accept us?" Jongho asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"I know so," Hongjoong replied confidently. "We're a family, Jongho. And family means no one gets left behind or forgotten." With that, Jongho seemed to find a new resolve. He nodded, taking a deep breath as he prepared himself to take the first step towards a future where he could be a father to his daughter, a future where he was no longer kept in the dark. 

The drive back to the dorms seemed to take an eternity. Jongho found himself lost in his thoughts, the car's quiet hum a stark contrast to the storm of emotions raging within him. The conversation with Hongjoong had eased his mind a bit, the weight of his newfound fatherhood feeling a little less heavy. He decided it was best to delay talking to the boys and the company about the situation until he had had time to process everything himself. It was a lot to take in, and he needed time to figure out his next steps. Once he entered his room, Jongho wasted no time. He locked the door behind him, seeking the privacy he needed for the call he was about to make. His heartbeat quickened as he dialed your number, each ring echoing in his ears until finally, the line connected. 

you

After an exhausting day you found yourself sinking into the plush cushions of your couch, a glass of your favorite wine in hand. The TV screen in front of you was merely background noise, a mindless distraction from the day's events. Your phone suddenly lighted up, an incoming call from an unknown caller. You picked it up, eyeing the unfamiliar number with a slight frown. After a moment's hesitation, you finally answered, "Hello? Who is it?" 

"Hi, it's me, Jongho," he said, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You swallowed hard, your heart starting to beat faster. ‘’Do you have time to talk right now?’’ 

"Yeah, Nari's at my mom's now…" you managed to reply, trying to keep your voice steady. You didn't expect that Jongho had your number, let alone that he would reach out so quickly. 

Jongho's heart beat harder at the mention of Nari's name. "If you're not busy, maybe we could meet up for a coffee?" Jongho offered. 

"Jongho, you don't have to be doing this. I don't expect you to do anything for Nari or me," you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them. 

"Y/N, you took her away from me for four years. She's my daughter. And for years, I was oblivious to her existence. I missed out on so much because you chose to keep me in the dark," Jongho's voice was steady, but you could hear the underlying emotion. "Because of that, I think you owe me at least a conversation." There was a pause, and you could almost feel Jongho gathering his thoughts. "So, what you need to do now is send me the address of a coffee place near your location. I'll meet you there in an hour." 

"Alright, Jongho, let's meet. I'll send you an address," you sighed heavily, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. You knew deep down that you owed him this conversation, even if it was the last thing you wanted to do right now. The reality was that you weren't ready to face whatever consequences this meeting would bring about. You weren't ready to delve into the past, but for your daughter's sake, for Jongho's sake, and maybe a little bit for your own sake, you would do it. You would meet him, and you would have this conversation. 

"I'll see you there," Jongho said, ending the call and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You finished your glass of wine, texted Jongho the address of a coffee place near your apartment, and began to gather your belongings. Opening your wardrobe, you sighed loudly. You wanted to look your best for Jongho but didn't want to appear as if you were preparing for a date or trying too hard to impress him after all these years. Having chosen an outfit, put on your denim jacket, and headed to the coffee shop. 

Upon entering the coffee shop, your eyes immediately found Jongho, sitting alone in a corner. He was dressed casually in a beige coat, his face partially hidden behind glasses, and a mask. The sight of him caused a flutter in your heart and your hands started to tremble involuntarily. You straightened your clothes and ran a hand through your hair, trying to compose yourself. Taking a deep breath, you began to make your way towards his table, preparing yourself for the conversation to come. 

"Hi," you almost whispered as you found your seat opposite Jongho. You tried to maintain an air of confidence, but the reality was that your heart was pounding in your chest. You could feel a lump forming in your throat, and you quickly swallowed to clear it. The memories of your past with Jongho were flooding back, and you were suddenly overcome with a mix of nostalgia, regret, fear, and hope. Jongho looked at you intently, his eyes scanning your features. It was surreal, he thought, to have you sitting there across from him after all these years. He still couldn't quite believe, that you were here with him. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of excitement and fear coursing through his veins. This was it - the start of a conversation that was years overdue. "Are you sure you want to talk here?" you asked, glancing around at the bustling café. "This place is still quite busy considering it's already evening," you continued. There was an uncertainty in your tone, a clear sign of your nervousness. You then looked back at Jongho, meeting his gaze. "I just think that considering your status now, it will be more comfortable to do it at my place," you added, offering an alternative. 

After a moment of silence, Jongho finally found the courage to ask, "Are you comfortable with me coming over to your place?" His voice was filled with a hint of apprehension as if he was worried about crossing any boundaries. 

"Yeah, it's alright," you responded, your tone casual and inviting. You quickly added, "My place isn’t far from here, just about 5 minutes away. Besides, Nari won’t be home tonight. She's staying over with her grandparents, so we'll have the place to ourselves."

Jongho seemed to consider your words for a moment before he finally agreed, "Okay then, let's go," his tone steady, as if he was trying to mask his excitement or maybe it was anxiety. Together, you left the bustling café, heading towards the quiet comfort of your apartment. The walk was filled with palpable tension, both of you lost in your thoughts, silently anticipating the conversation that awaited. 

You let Jongho in and lead him to the living room. "I'm sorry, it's nothing fancy," you whispered, feeling suddenly self-conscious. You were aware that with the success Jongho had achieved, he was probably used to living in more amazing spaces. Jongho looked around your modest space, taking in the sights of a home that you had lovingly created for yourself and Nari. Her baby pictures were hanging on the wall, her toys scattered in every corner. His smile widened as he took in these intimate glimpses into her life. It filled him with a warm, tender feeling, a sense of connection to the daughter he was only just getting to know. 

''I don't know where to start'' you finally whispered anxiously as you sit down on the couch.

Jongho looked at you, his eyes softening. "How about we start from the beginning?''

"I found out about a month after we broke up," you started, your voice shaking. Jongho's presence felt so strange in your apartment. His eyes on yours added to the tension that was heavy on your shoulders. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jongho asked, his voice filled with a mixture of confusion and hurt. His eyes bore into yours, seeking answers to questions that had been plaguing him since he found out about Nari.

"I was scared," you confessed, your voice barely audible. "And I loved you too much to burden you with my pregnancy," you said, smiling sadly and averting your gaze as you felt tears welling up in your eyes. "And don't try to lie and tell me I wouldn't ruin your life with it," you chuckled, your finger wiping away the tears that escaped. "Because I would have," you continued, the words heavy with regret and unshed tears. "Your music, your dreams... I couldn't stand in the way of that." 

"I think I had the right to know," Jongho interrupted, his voice firm yet filled with emotion. His words brought a heavy silence between the two of you. His gaze was intent, the hurt and confusion clear in his eyes. 

"Jongho, I didn't mean to hurt you by keeping it a secret," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "But at that time, I genuinely believed it was the best decision for the three of us." You gave him a pleading look, hoping he would understand. 

"I want to be Nari's father," Jongho confessed, his voice barely above a whisper but the conviction in his words was undeniable. You were taken aback by his confession, not expecting him to express such a strong desire to be a part of your daughter's life. You looked at him, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to find the right words.

"Jongho... we are doing good, the two of us. You've chosen your career, and I want you to stick to that decision now. Nari doesn't change anything." 

"How can you say that? Of course, it changes everything! I am a father now!", Jongho's voice rose, his tone filled with a sense of urgency and frustration. His heart pounded in his chest, his gaze never leaving yours. "Nari exists because we loved each other," his voice choked with emotion as he continued, "She's a living proof of our love." His voice trailed off, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the room. He was desperate for you to understand. His life, his priorities, everything had shifted the moment he found out about Nari. And he was determined to do whatever it took to be a part of her life. Jongho's eyes flashed with determination as he refused to accept your words. "I am her dad, Y/N, and you can't change that!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with conviction. 

"I know you are, Jongho," you admitted, your voice softening."But I want you to focus on Ateez, you guys are already doing so well," you responded, your voice steady yet filled with a strange calmness. "Me and Nari... we'll be better off without you." The words hung heavily in the air, a painful reality neither of you wanted to face. 

"Stop lying to yourself!" Jongho suddenly stood up, glaring at you as his frustration boiled over. His voice echoed around the room, a clear indication of his disbelief and anger at your words. His outburst took you by surprise. You looked at him, taken aback by the intensity of his emotions. 

"Jongho, I made a mistake… I shouldn't have come to the fan sign, I shouldn't have let you meet Nari," you started, but he cut you off. 

"Enough, Y/N!" he exclaimed; his voice filled with raw emotion. "You don't get to decide what's best for me. She is my daughter too, do you understand?" You swallowed hard, feeling a lump forming in your throat. You knew he was right. "I want to be there for Nari." You looked at him, speechless. You hadn't expected this. You hadn't expected him to fight for his right to be a part of Nari's life. But here he was, standing in your living room, pouring his heart out to you. 

"This is a huge responsibility. Are you sure you're ready for it?" You took a deep breath, locking eyes with him. "Because once you're in, there's no going back." Jongho gaze softened, but the determination remained. 

"Yes, I'm sure," he said resolutely. "I want to be a part of her life. And I'm ready to take on the responsibility that comes with it." His voice was steady, his conviction clear. There was a pause, a momentary lapse in his speech before he finally found the courage to continue with his confession. "And...," he started his voice barely a whisper, so low and quiet that it was almost lost. You had to strain your ears to hear the rest of his sentence. "I want you back as well, if you will have me" he admitted his words carrying an emotional weight that you could feel hanging in the air between you. You were stunned, unable to form a coherent response. Jongho's words had taken you completely by surprise. You never expected him to confess his feelings, to say that he wanted you back. It felt like your heart was pounding out of your chest, your mind racing with thoughts. You looked at him, your emotions in turmoil. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision.

"Jongho, I..." you started, struggling to find the right words. You could see the hope in his eyes, the same hope that you felt blossoming in your own heart. "I need time to think about all of this," you finally admitted. "For now, we should focus on you getting to know Nari." 

His face fell slightly at your words, but he quickly composed himself. "Of course, I understand," Jongho responded, his voice gentle. "Take all the time you need. And I look forward to getting to know our daughter." After a moment, Jongho broke the silence, his voice soft as he asked, "Could I see her room, if that's not too much to ask?" His eyes were hopeful as he looked at you, his chest rising and falling steadily as he took a few calming breaths. It was clear that he was trying to keep his emotions in check, to respect your need for space and time. As much as he wanted to rush into your lives, he knew he had to tread carefully. After all, he was not just stepping into the life of his former lover, but also into the life of his daughter.

"Of course, you can but… You're not gonna like it," you chuckled softly, Jongho's heart softened at the sight of your genuine smile, a smile he had missed more than he cared to admit.

''Why?'' Jongho asked surprised, but you didn't answer. You wanted for him to see it himself. You led Jongho to Nari's room. The sight that greeted him was a mix of bright colors and cute decorations, a clear reflection of the little girl who called this place her sanctuary. And there, among all the toys and drawings, was a framed picture of… Wooyoung. 

"Is that... Wooyoung?" Jongho's voice was filled with surprise as his eyes widened at the sight. He quickly made his way into the room, picking up the framed picture in his hands. 

"Yes, it's Wooyoung," you confirmed a soft smile on your lips. "Nari adores him. She thinks he's the coolest in the world." You watched as Jongho's gaze lingered on the picture; his expression unreadable. Jongho looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. 

"I can't believe that amongst all of us, she had to choose Wooyoung," Jongho muttered, his voice low and filled with a sense of disbelief and a hint of jealousy. His gaze remained fixed on the picture, his thoughts running wild. ''My own daughter?'' You giggled again, finding Jongho's disbelief and subtle jealousy amusing. 

"Well, she does have a good taste. After all, Wooyoung is pretty cool," you teased, watching as Jongho's face fell even more. You couldn't help but find the whole situation incredibly amusing. Here was Jongho, an idol who was adored by millions around the world, feeling jealous of his own bandmate. Jongho shook his head, chuckling softly at your comment. 

"I guess I have some catching up to do then," he said, placing the picture back on the little, pink desk. His tone was light, but you could sense the determination behind his words. He was ready to do whatever it took to build a relationship with his daughter. You watched him, your heart aching at the sight. Jongho, the man you once loved, standing in your daughter's room, expressing his desire to be a part of her life. It was a sight you never imagined you would witness. 

"Jongho, I think...I think it's a good start," you finally said, your voice soft but steady. "You wanting to get to know Nari, to be a part of her life...it means a lot." 

Jongho turned to you, his gaze softening. "I should've been there from the start," he admitted with a sigh. "But I promise you, I'll make up for the lost time." Those words, that promise, filled you with a sense of hope. You knew the journey ahead would be filled with challenges and uncertainties. But for the first time in a long time, you felt that you weren't alone in this. And maybe, just maybe, there was a possibility for a future where you, Jongho, and Nari could be a family. But for now, you decided to take things one step at a time, starting with Jongho getting to know his daughter. 

"She asked about you the other day," you started, your voice barely a whisper as you looked at Jongho. "She had never asked about her dad before, but when she did, it changed something inside me." You admitted, a lump forming in your throat as you recalled the moment. It was a memory that had been haunting you, a reminder of the reality that you had been trying to avoid. Jongho's eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and curiosity reflecting in his gaze as he awaited your next words. "I knew this day would come, but I wasn't prepared for it," you continued, your voice choked with emotion. At this, Jongho reached out, taking your hand in his. The warmth of his touch brought a small comfort. "I told her a few things about you, told her you were really busy," you confessed, your eyes meeting Jongho's. "I didn't know what else to say. She asked if her daddy would treat her to ice cream next time." 

Jongho's hand squeezed yours lightly as he stated, "Well, then Daddy will take her to get ice cream," he flashed you a smile and you swore you melted at the sight. You had buried your love for Jongho deep in your heart. But now, his hand on yours, his touch that you craved for so long, stirred something within you. You had to admit that those feelings were slightly knocking at your heart, reminding you of their existence. The silence that filled the room was comfortable, a stark contrast to the tension that had been present earlier. You could see the determination in Jongho's eyes, the promise of his words echoing in the quiet room. The reality of the situation was slowly sinking in, and you found yourself looking at Jongho with newfound hope. 

"I guess we still have a lot to talk about," you finally broke the silence, your gaze steady on Jongho. There was a soft smile on your face, a clear indication of your acceptance of the situation. "And a lot of ice cream to buy," you added, your tone light and teasing. 

Jongho chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I guess we do," he agreed, his voice warm and gentle. He then looked at you, his gaze softening. "But first, we need to figure out how to tell Nari." You nodded, a sense of apprehension filling you. Telling Nari about her dad would be a challenge, a hurdle that both of you needed to cross together. But looking at Jongho, his determination, and his willingness to step up as a father, you felt a sense of comfort. 

"We'll figure it out, Jongho," you said, squeezing his hand in reassurance. "Together." 

Jongho looked at you, a serious expression on his face. "Y/N, I wanted to talk to you first about this, but tomorrow I'm going to talk with company representatives and the boys. I think I will choose to go on a hiatus to spend some time with Nari and you," he confessed, his voice steady and sincere. The honesty in his words and the determination in his eyes gave you a sense of reassurance. Jongho was indeed ready to take on the responsibility of being a father, and he was willing to make sacrifices for it. 

"Jongho, I want to be clear about something," you started, your eyes meeting his. "I'd still like it if you continued your career. I don't want Nari or me to be the reason you have to give up on your dreams." Your words were steady and sincere, echoing in the quiet room. Jongho looked at you, a wave of relief washing over him. He had been worried about the impact this situation would have on his career, but hearing your support eased his concerns. 

"Hearing you say that... it means a lot to me," he confessed, his voice filled with gratitude. He was glad to know that even in this complex situation, he still had your support. 

The two of you spent the rest of the evening talking about Nari, her likes and dislikes, her habits, and her dreams. You showed him her drawings, her favorite toys, and even her diary which was filled with her innocent thoughts and dreams. Jongho listened attentively, absorbing every detail. He knew he had a lot of catching up to do, but he was more than willing to make up for the lost time. The night grew late as you continued to talk, discussing the future, your shared past, and how everything would affect Nari. You made it clear to Jongho that his career was still significant, and that he could balance his responsibilities as a father without giving up his dreams. And as you spoke, Jongho felt a wave of relief wash over him. Your support meant the world to him, and he was grateful to hear your words of encouragement. 

As you finally said your goodbyes, Jongho promised to keep in touch and to start involving himself in Nari's life slowly. He understood that he had a lot of catching up to do and that it wouldn't be easy. But he was ready to face the challenges ahead, ready to be a father to Nari. 

"I'll see you soon, Y/N," Jongho said, his voice low but firm. Before he took a step outside of the door, he stepped closer and gently placed a kiss on your cheek. The action was unexpected. You felt your blood rush to your cheeks as he placed a gentle kiss. Where his lips had touched, a tingling sensation lingered, causing your heart to flutter. He turned back to give you a reassuring smile, a promise that he would be back soon. And as you watched him walk away, you felt a sense of hope blossoming in your heart. You knew that the road ahead would be rocky, but you also knew that you weren't alone on this journey. Jongho would be there, ready to face the challenges with you, for Nari's sake. 

[bqu1nns]

hello!!! my apologies i know someone requested a q fic that i posted an hour ago BUT i deleted it, not knowing that it would delete the inbox request (im dumb) BUT ITS HERE!!! whoever u are, this is for u lol!

the perspective of where i wrote this from is that you're sal’s youngest sister (maybe 6-7 years younger than him BUT you aren't a minor to brian dont worry!!!!) but he would've never ever imagined you and brian, his best friend, to ever hook up with one another. if he ever found out, he’d probably never talk to either one of you guys ever again. also this is set in 2008 maybe ?? peak tenderloins era. i think … 

brian quinn ☠︎︎ daddy’s girl

1376 words ♡

you awoke from the sound of your doorbell ringing at an ungodly hour. 2:37 am read your clock in bright and blaring red lighting. it made you jump slightly but nonetheless, you took some time to orient yourself, your heart already racing from the sudden interruption. lazily, you got up and started to question… who the HELL could that even be at my door at this hour?

you didn't know anyone that would come up unannounced, hell, your apartment complex wasn't the kind of building to let in strangers to show up, especially in the middle of the night. you grabbed a spare hoodie (brian's hoodie…) throwing it over your tank top as you padded towards the door. 

then, all of a sudden, came a knock. three sharp taps, followed by a familiar, deep voice — one that you could always hear in the back of your mind.

“it’s me. baby please, open up”.

brian fucking quinn.

what was he doing here and why must it be at 2:40 in the morning? you unlock the door, opening it just enough to see him standing there, illuminated by the orange glow of your apartment's hallway. he looked… disheveled. like he woke up on the wrong side of his bed (he did). his hair was messy, like he’d been running it through his hands over and over, black hoodie with a jacket hanging open over it. 

but it was his face that really made you take a second look. his eyes – those stupid, downturnt eyes that were too expressive for his own good– were tired and red-rimmed, as if he hadn't slept for a day or two. 

something stinged in your heart but you broke the silence, “brian?”, you whispered softly, your voice still riddled with sleep and confusion. “what are you doing here?”. 

he let out a shaky breath, putting his hands in his pockets as he looked at you through the crack of the door, “m’sorry angel”, he spoke, low and rough. “i… i know it's late and you should probably be sleeping but i couldnt… i didn't know where else to go except here”. 

in that moment, you swung the door open, letting him in. he hesitated for a second, like he wasn't too sure if he should step inside but as he did, you caught the faint smell of his cologne, familiar and homely in a way that made your chest ache for him. 

“i couldn't stop thinking about you hon”, he said, words almost feeling too frantic and rushed, as if they’d been bottled in for too long. “every time i try to do the right thing and just stay away, it just… it never fuckin’ works. it never works and i never want it to work. but tonight, i just– i couldn't stay away. not in a million years”.

he seemed like he was on the verge of falling apart if you hadn't caught the tears gathering in his eyes. it was too much to take.

“ya think it's easy for me?”, he continued, voice breaking slightly. “i hate sneaking around to see you. i.. we cant even go on dates together and i just hate lying to sal. i hate feeling like im ruining everything. but not seeing you? pretending like you dont matter to me? pretending that the thing that we have is nothing? baby, that's worse. that's so much worse”.

“brian…” you start, but he shakes his head, stepping closer to you. 

“no”, he cuts you off gently. “just…please listen”, his hand at your hip, his thumb tracing a slow pattern against your skin. 

“you're so stubborn, you know that?”, he murmured, his voice soft. “you act like you don't want all this. like you don't need me or that you're fine keeping this… whatever this is… a complete secret. but trust me, i can see right through you baby”.

your breath hitches as he drags his thumb across your bottom lip, his gaze following the movement as if he was trying to memorize every second of it. “every time i touch you”, his voice deep, “you melt. you let me in, even though you're so scared of what might happen if someone found out. but right now? right now, it's just you and me”. 

it’s like you're under his spell. 

“still scared, baby?”, he asked, leaning down just enough that his lips were merely a breath away from yours. 

“no. no i’m not”, you whisper. you tried to sound confident but the tremble in your voice gave it away.

“but brian we shouldn't—”.

“i don’t care”, he says, voice making your heart ache. “you've been driving me insane, baby. do you even know how hard it is to hold back whenever i see you?”.

his lips find your neck, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses all over your skin, each one making it more and more difficult to think. “let me take care of you baby. just tonight. no one has to know, i swear”.

you knew you had to stop this that there were a billion reasons why this was a horrible idea but when his hands gripped your waist and his teeth grazed the sensitive spot on the right side of your neck, every reason just went away. 

your breath hitched, the air between you both feeling impossibly warm. his soft touch was just enough to make you whimper, his hands leading you to the bedroom like he was afraid you might slip away from him forever.

“you don't know how long i've been waiting for this, bri”, you murmured against his skin. “to have you like this— i've been thinking about it for so long and it just seemed impossible..”

“brian..” you managed to whisper, your voice shaky as he got into your bed. you begin to curl his hair with your fingers as he's on top of you. you tug him back up to kiss you but this time, it was so much more slower and deeper, his tongue teasing yours as he kissed you like he had all the time in the world.

“i love the way you say my name”, he said, soft and low. his fingers trailed your body up and down, leaving goosebumps in its wake. he leaned down and slid his hand between your thighs, his fingers teasing your slick folds. you gasped, your hips lifting off of the bed as you sought more of his touch. he wanted it too, slipping one finger inside of you, then two, curling them just right to hit that spot that made you see stars. 

you moaned, your head falling back against a pile of pillows as he worked quicker and quicker. his rings brushed against your inner thighs, the cold metal being a total opposite to the heat of his skin. each thrust sent shivers racing down your body. his fingers stretched you out deliciously, making you arch your back, pressing your hips against his hand 

he rubbed tight circles around your clit with his thumb, plunging it deeper than you ever felt before. the rough texture of his skin and the coolness of his rings made a maddening combination of sensations. your juices flowed freely, coating his fingers while making obscene wet sounds as he worked harder and harder towards your orgasm. 

“look at you, so desperate for my touch”, he growled, breathing heavily. “your pretty little pussy’s grippin’ my fingers so tightly, like she doesn't want to let them go”, he chuckles. 

he curled his fingers rougher inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your toes curl and your vision blur. at the same time, he pinched your clit between his thumb and forefinger, the cold metal of his rings making you scream out in pleasure. 

you cried out, your inner walls clenching around his fingers as wave after wave of pure ecstasy washed over you. he helped you work through your climax, fingers never stopping until you collapsed back onto the bed, spent and trembling. 

he pulled out his fingers, bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean, “fuck, baby, you taste better than i remembered. i could finger this sweet pussy all night long”. 

and you let him show you how good he could make you feel. 

[confiaenanaa]

I just saw this post on instagram and I really loved the 'directing' aesthetic. I was wondering if you can work it into a Em x y/n where she's hired to direct one of his music videos and they get along so well, always goofing off on set. Maybe they hang out off set too and she uses the videos she takes of him on her cell phone to use them for the video. Idk that post just gave me Em x director!y/n vibes.

https://www.instagram.com/p/DBt-zboy5Ya/?igsh=MTUybWI1NG5wODM0NQ==

directing - eminem

director!fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers

masterlist

synopsis: Y/N and Marshall have a cute friendship as she directs his music video

A/N: sooo I wrote this at 2 am so it might be bad (if it is i'll delete and start over I'll have to see in the morning) but I did enjoy this request! keep 'em coming. but just know there'll be more content out VERY soon!!

Y/N did not think she’d ever see herself directing a music video like this one, but, a check is a check. This video was definitely fun to film, though.

The set of Superman was quite the place to be. On the first day of filming, Y/N made her way over to the dressing people to let them know which outfit Marshall would be filming in today. That’s when she saw him. He was leaving his trailer, wearing a wife-beater and some gray sweats. She’d never seen someone like that before. 

-Do I got somethin’ on my face?

-Oh, um, no, no, sorry. 

-It’s aight.

He giggled a bit as he said that last part. He thought it was kind of cute how she’d get nervous around him. He knew she’d be fun to mess with as soon as he’d noticed her displeasure for social interactions. 

...

Throughout the time of filming, Marshall and Y/N grew sort of close. They’d hang out in his trailer and crack jokes during filming. Especially during freaky scenes. Y/N would always make fun of him when he’d be doing those scenes, making him laugh and having to start over. The cast and crew noticed the friendship growing rapidly, but chose not to comment over it. 

They’d realized they got along really well, and they enjoyed the same things. They started to hang out on and off set regularly. They even arranged pizza night where they’d go down to Y/N’s apartment and eat pizza (Marshall’s idea) and then have a spa night (Y/N’s counter idea). 

Marshall hated doing face masks and hair masks but it made Y/N happy and that was all Marshall needed. He’d do a million masks if he’d see that smile once more (though he’d never admit it). 

Y/N would take photos of him constantly on her digital camera and her phone. Always laughing when she saw them. She created an album with all these photos and would laugh at them next to him just to annoy him. During filming, whenever he’d look over in her direction, she’d pull up one of the photos and he’d break character.

They were truly any crew’s worst nightmare. But, they were adorable and Marshall’s friends couldn’t get enough. After so much heartache, they were just glad that he was happy again. 

During the post-filming/editing process, Y/N decided to add some of the photos and videos from pizza night to the music video and thought it’d be a fun addition. You know, like a contrast; one night he’d be partying with girls all over him and then living the lazy life the next. 

When they first watched the video, Marshall’s friends couldn’t stop laughing. They loved the idea and kept replaying it. Marshall acted like he wasn’t amused, but everyone could tell that he was secretly enjoying it. 

It seemed like the fans enjoyed it too. Always asking who the mystery camera woman was and who was behind the voice in the video. Even during interviews, they’d ask Marshall:

-So, is the girl behind the camera your girlfriend? -I don’t know. He said, smirking. Little did he know she sat in her bed watching that video forever trying to read between the lines and figure out if he truly likes her.

[chadobi]

Hey! Someone sent me an ask about writing this, but I can’t seem to find it anymore 😭😭

Either way, thank you to whoever suggested it

I hope you like how it turned out!

Mirror Talk

Bayverse Michelangelo x fem!reader

You’d never been very good at falling asleep when he was around.

Not because he was loud, though to be fair, he absolutely was but because having Michelangelo in your apartment meant having the human (or rather, turtle) equivalent of a party popper beside you. Even in silence, even wrapped up in your blanket watching old cartoons on mute, he vibrated with energy. Big, messy, alive energy.

You weren’t sure how he managed to take up so much space without actually doing anything. But it wasn’t a complaint.

Right now, he was lying on your floor, feet up on the couch, hoodie sleeves rolled to his elbows. The light from your TV flickered across his plastron. You were half-asleep on the couch cushions above him, head resting against a throw pillow that still smelled like laundry detergent and takeout.

“I’m bored,” he announced suddenly, kicking his feet up and down like a kid at a sleepover.

“You’re watching a movie,” you said, eyes closed. “You chose the movie.”

“Yeah, but now I’m watching you sleep instead and that’s not technically entertainment unless you start snoring.”

You cracked one eye open and gave him a look. “Do I snore?”

He grinned. “Nah. You make these little pfft noises with your nose like a sleepy baby hedgehog. It’s adorable.”

“Should I be flattered or mildly concerned that you know this?”

“Yes.”

You groaned, dragging a pillow over your face. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet.” He wiggled his fingers in the air. “You’re still dating me.”

“Remind me why?”

“Because I’m the total package, babe. Brains, beauty, biceps.” He flexed one arm, which promptly hit your coffee table with a thunk. “Also, I do great impressions.”

You peeked at him from under the pillow. “Impressions?”

He cleared his throat, sat up slightly, and in a high, nervous voice, said:

“Hi, uh, you probably don’t wanna go out with me, but if you maybe did, like, want to get pizza or something sometime… I mean, unless you hate pizza, then we could get, like, tofu. Or air. Or I could just cry into my pillow—”

You were laughing before he finished the sentence.

“What was that?”

“That,” he said dramatically, resting a hand over his chest, “was me. Two weeks ago. In the mirror. For like forty-five minutes.”

You blinked. “…You practiced asking me out in the mirror?”

“Bro, so much.” He flopped back down with a groan. “You have no idea. I stood in Donnie’s lab with a broom and a helmet on top and practiced every version of asking you out that a person could possibly imagine. Smooth guy Mikey. Sensitive poet Mikey. Straight-up ‘I wrote you a rap’ Mikey.”

“Please tell me you didn’t write a rap.”

“Oh, I did. I deleted it. But it rhymed ‘booyakasha’ with ‘your aura’s like matcha.’ I was proud.”

You buried your face in the blanket, laughing so hard your ribs hurt. “That’s terrible.”

“I know! That’s why I deleted it! But you were so cool and chill and smart and pretty and I was like “oh no, she has actual standards, I need to rehearse or I’ll ruin everything”.”

You turned toward him, still laughing, but softer now.

“You didn’t need to rehearse, Mikey. I liked you already.”

“Yeah, but like… you’re you,” he said, half-laughing, half-sincere, sitting up now, cross-legged and looking a little pink beneath the orange. “I didn’t wanna mess it up by being, y’know, me.”

You leaned down and kissed the top of his head, resting your forehead against his.

“You didn’t mess it up.”

“I didn’t?”

“Not even with the matcha rhyme.”

He grinned, wide and boyish. “Then I guess the mirror speech worked after all.”

“Oh my god.” You pushed his shoulder. “I’m dating a dork.”

“I’m your dork.” He tackled you back onto the couch, dramatically, like a Broadway fall, arms flailing. “And this dork wants cuddles, please and thank you.”

You squealed as he flopped half on top of you, a giant living weighted blanket in a hoodie, all warm muscle and ridiculous affection.

“You’re crushing me!”

“I contain multitudes,” he mumbled, face buried in your neck. “I contain love. And also dumpling farts. But mostly love.”

And somehow, despite the chaos, the noise, and the sheer amount of shell currently pressing into your ribs, you felt completely at peace.

Two weeks in, and already, you couldn’t imagine anything else.

[bennyden]

User hamatoanne's fic plagiarism

Hello, I’m the author of The Android, an AO3 Robot OC x Reader fic that was plagiarized by hamatoanne on Tumblr in her Aemond x Reader story, System Error. You can read my AO3 post for more info about the issue. As you can tell by the timestamps on AO3 and the screenshots of her now-deleted story, mine was posted months before hers. I didn’t want to make this public, but it appears Anne has not learned her lesson and is grasping at straws to keep her readers in the dark. She’s been deleting her stories to hide evidence of her plagiarism. I think you deserve to know who your beloved writer gets her words from.

I don’t know this fandom, but I’ve heard you guys can get pretty crazy. Control yourselves. The only one who needs to take responsibility is Anne. Don’t send hate to her mutuals. Don’t send hate to her followers. Don’t stalk or harass or dox anyone. Read through this post and form your opinion.

First bunch of screenshots: A side-by-side comparison of her story (now deleted) and mine (still up and linked above). I took screenshots in advance in case something like this happened so I’d have proof if I needed it. I decided to compare the first chapter of my fic with the first part of hers. I could do the whole thing, but I’m a busy college student and I think just a quick skim of the pictures below is enough for people to see the extent of her plagiarism. 

I have screenshots of her entire post, but I don’t want to make this too long to scroll through and Tumblr posts cap at 30 pictures. I’m assuming some of you have already read her story multiple times, so you’re familiar with the words. If you haven’t, then I should warn you that the fic that she plagiarized is very not SFW. I’ll let you know where the not SFW content starts so you can skip it. 

On the left is my story. On the right is what Anne posted (and took down).

Not SFW content starts here. 

Not SFW content over.

Finally, I DM’ed her. This was just before I posted to The Android on AO3 about the situation. To summarize, I wrote about how I would go about the situation and how hurt I was about a bigger creator stealing from me. I admit, I was too kind and too much of a pushover. I just wanted things to go quietly. She later replied with this and deleted her fic immediately. 

“I was completely stupid for not giving your credit” Why do they always play dumb? You copy that much and can’t even think to put my name there? You credit the artist but not the person who basically wrote your whole story? The story that gave you over 3k notes, so much more clout than any of your other stories has earned you? Total BS.

“I had every intention of giving credit where it was due…But I forgot” Right. Sure. Of course. If she felt guilty about plagiarizing, she would not be so shameless to accept praise like she did. I have examples of where she happily thanked people for complimenting "her work”, but didn’t want to bring other blogs into this, especially since they were none the wiser to her plagiarism. Ironically enough, someone even gifted her a badge for being a good writer the day she replied to my DM. She tagged that post “#a breath of fresh air on a horrible day”. I wonder why her day was horrible. Whoever gifted her that badge deserves their money back.

My thoughts when approaching her DMs were:

If she wants to keep up the story? Fine, just edit the post to say that it was heavily influenced by my story and leave a link to the original. I don’t mind. The readers will see that, click my story, compare the two, and think, “Hey, that’s not just inspiration! She plagiarized!” and her downfall would start from there without me having to do anything.

If she ignored me and didn’t fulfill that request, i would take matters into my own hands and expose her on her own post. Even more damaging.

In the end, she chose to delete the post entirely, getting rid of the evidence and her clout. I actually didn’t expect this outcome since I thought she’d like the clout too much, but I guess she decided this route would be the least damaging to her reputation. Everything was swept under the rug for now. 

And like a fool, I said thanks and went on with my life. But I decided to keep track of her. Because while I was too cowardly to do anything, I knew there would always be someone in the crowd who would take action. And it seems like people did. 

After reading the supportive comments from readers of my fic, I started to regret how lightly I handled it. I wanted to be mature even though I wanted her entire blog to fall and her reputation taken away. But I didn’t want to be a “bad person”. I wondered if I should keep pursuing the issue. I realized that my overly-people-pleasing behavior might lead her to continue her ways. I decided to speak out because others might’ve had their works taken by her and that my silence wasn’t helping. 

Next is her post, now deleted (I wonder why), about how she’s been so sad and how she’s going to be deleting her old stories and starting over. I’m likely not the only one she’s plagiarized from if she’s deleting other stories. At the time, I only saw supportive replies and reblogs on it, but maybe she deleted it after people started calling her out? Idk.

She’s playing the victim game pretty hard. Acting as a kind underdog even though she’s the big creator who stole from a nobody like me. I know I said on my AO3 update that people shouldn’t send hate to her (and even censored her name after she deleted her story) but I guess I’m a little happy that people sought to call her out on her shit. I wish I was as brave. 

Later, a nice person (we’ll call her Bob because she asked to remain anonymous) DM’ed me directly with a kind message. After seeing this, I decided I should take action and expose all of this since Anne obviously hasn’t learned and wants to keep it all hidden. Bob confirmed that I’m not the only victim of Anne’s plagiarism either.

Bob asked that I not use screenshots of our DM’s so here is a transcription of the important parts:

“Hey! I just found out that one of your fics had been plagiarized by someone in the HOTD community. First of all, I am tremendously sorry that happened…”

(For Bob’s privacy, I won’t explain her relation to Anne. Just know that Anne has refused to message her back).

“I definitely think you should make a blog post. with side by side comparison. I am still completely gobsmacked that she pilfered your entire story word for word and changed a few things. We found evidence that she had plagiarized multiple stories. Not just yours. We found out her mermaid!aemond fic was entirely stolen as well as a few others. She has quietly deleted them and hasn't spoken on them since.”

“We surmised that she takes ‘underrated’ fics from different fandoms and changes the name and that's it. It's almost like she believed that stealing from other fandoms was going to draw less attention than stealing directly from the HOTD fandom.”

So if you noticed that one of your favorite Aemond fics is gone, now you know why.

‘But benny, she still wrote her own sentences and just changed it around to fit aemond!’

Fanfiction is transformative. You know what the source material is and who created it. You know you’re not reading a copied and pasted text with maybe some words and sentences switched around. This wasn’t fanfic. According to Google, plagiarism is defined as, “the practice of taking someone else's work or ideas and passing them off as one's own.” (See what I did there? I credited Google. Is it so hard to give credit where credit is due?) She copied people's work, didn't give credit to the source material, and claimed it as her own. That's plagiarism.

I wouldn’t have had a problem if she properly credited me and linked the original story. I wouldn’t have had a problem if she didn’t blatantly copy and paste the entire text and premise. I wouldn’t even require getting permission to write a story based on my fic if she had satisfied those conditions.

She’s a 27-year-old grown-ass woman with enough free time to simp over some blond guy with an eyepatch. I’m a 21-year-old college student who only posts fics during the summer and winter because that’s when school’s on break. I’m too busy writing lab reports and essays to be an active writer online. The fact that she can disrespect smaller writers so tremendously should not be acceptable. The fact that she also deceived her devoted readers and friends about her "works" is also unacceptable.

What can you do about this? To be honest, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had to deal with this before. I want to be a good person and say, “Don’t send any hate to Anne, don’t harass her. Just unfollow her and stop supporting her.” But that obviously hasn’t taught her anything. She’ll just make a half-assed apology, maybe go on hiatus, maybe disappear, and then pop up again under another name to steal from another creator. If you have any ideas on how to deal with this, please tell us. 

She can try to block me or delete her posts, but the evidence is out and the damage is done. Anything she does to hide this mess will only make it worse for her. I’d appreciate people bringing more awareness to this issue, especially if it can reach the eyes of others she’s taken from. 

Thanks for reading.

[unabashegirl]

Different 3 | College HS

Harry's quiet, routine-driven life changes one weekend when he meets Y/N through a mutual friend at her party. She comes from a superficial, materialistic world with absent parents who believe money solves everything. Despite their differences, something clicks that night, and Y/N can't stop thinking about him.

Author’s note: hello everyone, I am so happy you are all enjoying the last few written pieces that I’ve published.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all 25 chapters, various one shots and much more :)

masterlist

What are you doing right now?

He played with the corners of his phone’s cover as he looked down at the message that he had just received from her. They had been talking since the day after her soccer match. Harry unconsciously bit his bottom lip, thinking of a response that wouldn’t sound too nerdy or boring. He had been studying for a test. He was about to sit down and play some video games with his roommate. There was no chance he would admit that he was studying on a Friday evening.

Nothing much🫠

He wrote and deleted the words a few times; hating the way he sound and how uncertain he felt when he was around her. He finally stopped making any sort of assumption and pressed send. He placed his phone beside him before turning on the console. Right before he could grab the control, his phone beeped. Harry closed his eyes for a second and decided to leave it for a few minutes, so he would come across as desperate. That was until he realized he couldn’t concentrate on the game and gave in.

I am hungry

Do you want to come with me to pick up some food?

He smiled like a fool. He hadn’t seen her since that Monday. He wanted to ask her to spend some time together, but he had been too scared of being rejected. He wanted to be with her, but he thought he needed to be realistic. She was way out of his league. Y/N was too special to be with someone so ordinary as him. Although the thought of Y/N becoming his girlfriend made his skin get goosebumps and his heart rate rise.

Right now?

Yes. I’ll pick you up

Ok

Harry quickly freshened up and threw on a long sleeve shirt, some sweatpants, vans, and a beanie since it was starting to get colder. It was a Friday, and he still couldn’t understand how Y/N was free and more importantly willing to hang out with him.

On my way 🚗

“Where are you going?” Ganesh, Harry’s roommate asked, watching him freak out. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I’m just going out with a friend” He responded, just as he found the keys to the room.

I am here!😊

“Who is she?” He had never seen Harry so agitated and so different. He was always so collected and calm, nothing ever bothered him.

“No one you know” He lied and shut the room door.

“Hi!” Y/N smiled, turning down the radio as he got into the car. She wore sweatpants and a green t-shirt.

“Sorry for the wait. I couldn’t find my keys” He apologized just as she started the drive.

“What do you want to have?” She asked as she drove down the busy streets. “I could honestly eat anything. I am starving”.

“Anything would be lovely” Y/N nodded as she thought of where they could go and genuinely enjoy it. Somewhere, where they could sit and enjoy and nice conversation and a meal.

“I haven’t eaten anything today” The fridge at the apartment was packed with all sorts of food. Unfortunately, Y/N didn’t like to cook, not because of the act itself, but because of all the cleaning that had to take place afterward. She had made herself some coffee and a sandwich in the morning, but she hadn’t had dinner or lunch.

“When was the last time you ate? Harry asked trying to make conversation.

“This morning after class” She shrugged, “I don’t enjoy cooking. Do you?”

“I do” he admitted with a bit of embarrassment. “I find it quite enjoyable”

“Maybe I should invite you over, so you can cook for me” Y/N joked, but not really. She found it very romantic when a man cooked for a woman.

“How is your knee?”

“It’s just bruised and still sore, but no biggie”  Y/N decided to get some food at a nearby Panera. She was really craving some soup and a sandwich. Plus she found the place very cozy and nice. “Is here alright?” She asked as she parallel parked.

“Perfect” He couldn’t care less where they ate. He just wanted to spend some time with her.

“Would you like to eat here? Or we could pick up and go to mine? It’s just a few blocks away” Y/N offered in case he didn’t want to dine in.

“H- Here is fine” He instantly felt nervous about being at her apartment. Therefore, he preferred to stay at Panera. Somewhere where he knew that he would be able to form complete sentences.

They both got out of the car and Harry stood beside her. He got a whiff of her scent. She smelt like flowers specifically like lavender. He felt like a creep, but the scent was intoxicating. Y/N threw on a white hoodie and then locked the car.

They each ordered a cup of soup with half of a sandwich. Y/N ordered lemonade whilst Harry ordered iced tea. Y/N then took it upon herself to find them a comfortable booth where they could sit and converse. She chose one that was by the window and on a corner. It was nice a private.

“How was the rest of your week? Y/N asked as they finally sat down with their food.

“A bit hectic. I’ve got this test on Monday that has been keeping me up” He shared, dipping his spoon into his chicken tortilla soup.

“I know the feeling,” She said, “You’ve never told me the story behind your accent” Harry smiled and wiped the corners of his mouth.

“My mother and father moved here months after giving birth to me. My father is American, and my mother is very English and so am I. Although I’ve been more exposed to America’s culture, the accent is thanks to my mother. My parents moved back to England when I started college. It was that or getting the divorce” It was all very foreign to Harry. He rarely shared so much of his private life with anyone. He would even go to the extremes of leaving the room when his mother would call just so he could have privacy from Ganesh. Although, it all felt very different with her. He felt like he could tell her his darkest secrets and Y/N wouldn’t judge.

“But they are still together” She loved his accent. It singled him out of the bunch.  She found it very attractive how he could drag the last syllables of the words and how raspy his voice sounded.

“Yes.”.

“Oh! That’s nice”.

“What are you talking about? Your parents are still together too!” He pointed out, opening the bag of chips that came with the meal.

“Sure, but my parents are never home” Y/N shrugged, “Are you close to your mom?”

“Very much”

“I’m not. They spend a lot of time away, but I sort of get it. My father says it’s the sacrifice we pay to keep the type of lifestyle that we desire” Harry could tell that she didn’t believe her father’s words. He couldn’t blame her — neither did he.  He could tell that she had a very lonely life as opposed to what everyone thought.

“Would you like my pickle?” He asked as he pushed it away from the rest of his food. Y/N instantly burst into a giggle. It took Harry a few seconds to understand why she was laughing, but he caught on and joined in the laughter. “What is it with you Americans and your obsession with adding pickles to everything!”

“They are tasty!” Y/N stabbed his pickle with her fork and took it away from him.

“You eat weird things like,” he thought for a second, “Rice Krispies!” He exclaimed. “Whose idea was that?!”

“Take that back!” Y/N didn’t want to admit it, but her pantry consisted of them. Whenever she was in a hurry, she would throw two or three in her purse and call it day. Her obsession came from her mother not allowing her to have them when growing up. “They are so tasty!”.

“Absolutely not. Horrid”.

“Well, unfortunately, this has come to an end” Harry laughed at her exaggeration and finished eating his panini. “So, did you miss me?”

“Horribly” Thankfully he had swallowed all the food in his mouth when she had asked it. His cheeks had turned a tone or two darker and for a second he had thought he was going to be sick. Although, he was quite surprised and proud of himself for his honest answer and without any stuttering.

Y/N felt like her heart was about to burst out of her chest and that butterflies in her tummy. It had been a long time since she had ever felt this way toward anyone. She moves closer to him, to the point where their shoulders are touching. Y/N turned to look at him and was met with his big eyes that she had grown to adore.

“Do you like me?” She asked as she leaned close to him.

“I- I do” his stutter was back, but he didn’t care. He could smell her intoxicating scent again, and it was enough to drive him crazy. Her hand reaches up and to the back of his neck, where she tangled her fingers.

Their noses touched, and their foreheads met.

“Good because I like you too” Y/N whispered then pressed their lips against one other.

Harry closed his eyes as soon as their lips touched for the first time. She kept a hand on his chest for leverage whilst the other remained tangled in his hair. Her lips were just as plump and soft as he had imagined. His entire body froze for the seconds they share the kiss. He opened his eyes as he felt her pull apart, but before he could open them fully, she kissed him again. This time it was more long and affectionate. It was as if there was no concept of time. As if they were the only ones in this world sharing a kiss. They both felt invisible and nothing else mattered.

chapter 4

[pantheresssy]

yo if you do request you should do a reader thats similar to max from two broke girls and loser ellie how would they be tg and how reader would have a soft spot for only ellie

MAX!R AND LOSER!ELLIE — EW.

— ┊⋆ cw: r is a big boob girly and this have non graphic smut even but there’s something talking about it.

i’ve never watched two broke girls before so i was guided by tiktoks edits, hope you like it! it took me so long but i wrote this and deleted over and over, i’m sorry for any mistake and for this b so short …

loser!ellie who would fall to her knees after seeing you walking around dressed on the most horrendous mustard yellow dress with hints of red, not moving an inch to try and treat costumers more gently — differently of your best friend, dina –, including her.

loser!ellie who would do anything to have your eyes on her, but not really knowing how to do it. she would try to flirt when you stepped on her table, notebook on hand and beating the pen on it in the rhythm of the song your mind couldn’t stop singing, but it would come out so fucking bad, so she would just sit and stare like “um … hi,”

loser!ellie who would notice your enormous boobs pushing out of the neckline and would salivate for them, but always looking away afraid of you noticing it. she would dream about them at night, day, noon, while you were just two feet’s away from her. them and you were all she could think about for ages.

loser!ellie who would give up on you after trying three times, putting on her mind that you would never look at her. nobody but losers like her ever did and she knew that this wouldn’t change. you were the hot girl she would just want from afar.

loser!ellie who had a admirer since day one, who just waited to the point she would combust on her place to do something. you were looking at her more discreetly while taking the customer’s orders, acknowledging each time sho would look at you with puppy eyes, wanting. she was beautiful and dina side eying you because of your unusual attitude had made everything more exciting.

loser!ellie who would make you like her so easily just by the way she seemed to be so messed up. at your eyes it could be a great match: the hot girl with the loser. so you used everything she couldn’t keep her eyes off to play a little, flirting — but she was slower than you thought, never understanding what you were saying.

loser!ellie who would make you go softer only for her, even if she doesn’t seemed to notice it. while you talked to others as if you were bored, always sarcastic, with her it was a hole different story, with “good morning”s, “i’m gonna be your waitress today”s and “don’t be pressured, i’ll wait”s. you’re being so fucking soft for her and hated it, but couldn’t change it.

loser!ellie who couldn’t see things that were in front of her eyes, only giving the time of the day to everything her mind told her, believing it was the only true. and while you were investing so much on playing a little, ellie wasn’t getting none of it … after a while, you decided to do what you did best and see what she would do: you were going to be direct.

loser!ellie who almost threw up when, one day, you came up to her table and while noting what she wanted, said: “instead of looking at my boobs you should just ask to grab ‘em.” you looked at her and placed the notebook in your pocket. “i’ll say yes.”

loser!ellie who would still be gagging and not knowing how to react each time you were closer — because you were closer after that day, and for the first time she was starting to realise something.

loser!ellie who when she was going to say her order, saw you biting your lip while looking at her hand and tattoo, you being the one salivating over her now. and after you saw that she knew what you were doing, blinked and smiled, pretending to accidentally pull the neckline down, the suggestion of your halo appearing.

loser!ellie who after this got more confident and finally had the courage to ask what she wanted, in which you were more than happy to give her. ellie took you to eat in a decent place and was nervous during all of it – with you thinking that it was kind of captivating. in the end, she was with you on her lap, her face buried between your boobs while you rode her thigh.

loser!ellie who learned how to eat someone out wonderfully well and was taking all of your attention, knowing that she was the only one to have your big, soft boobs on her mouth and face. (having your nipple on her pussy as well).

loser!ellie who was the first to have you so gently, and the only one to make you handle better your shitty work after a great fuck.