#(a week early but it still counts btw if he pulls anything like this next monday oh you best believe it's over for me)

[kindahoping4forever]

x

[dollfacefantasy]

hi! i just finished reading your most recent fic, (amazing btw 💕) and keep reflecting on the part where leon calls reader a little disappointing.. so i was wondering if you could write some angst with DI leon where he’s quite mean and degrading and saying how he’s disappointed and stuff with reader, yk! then leon lovingly fucks reader after as a way to say sorry? (daddy kink included) thank you <3

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon goes a little too hard on you one night during sex. upon realizing how much it hurt you, he knows he has to make it up somehow.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink, praise/degradation, age gap (20s, early forties), mentions of spanking & not using safeword

word count: 5.2k

a/n: part 1 <3 took me a while to figure out how i wanted to do this but i hope you guys enjoy.

Something isn't right.

That's all you could think while watching Leon idly stir pasta sauce at the stove. You were perched nearby at the counter, observing him as if he was under experimentation. While to anyone else his actions would appear completely mundane, you knew that this gesture was only the first step in something larger. 

He never cooked you dinner. In the year and six weeks you'd been with him, he'd only ever made you a real meal twice before. Once being six weeks ago on your anniversary, and the other about four months before that, a couple days after you had a fight that nearly blew the wheels off your relationship.

In each case, there was a reason behind it. Whether to celebrate or make amends, neither was an innocuous decision made at random. You weren't even sure that Leon possessed the ability to be spontaneous, but that was a separate issue for another time. The obvious meaning behind his actions was the cause of the splashing of the noodles being poured into the boiling water making your stomach turn. 

Because today wasn't anything special. There wasn't a birthday or an achievement to make an occasion of. That meant it was the other option, the makeup option, and you were extra sure of this because the two of you hadn't exactly been the perfect picture of being in love lately.

"Honey, could you put these on the table for me?" he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

He looks at you over his shoulder to make sure you see the plates and silverware he's referring to.

"Yeah, sure," you respond.

You hop off the stool you were sitting on and grab the things he wanted you to. This was even worse. He wasn't going to let you eat in peace at the counter like you did when he wasn't here. No, he was going to stare you down across the dining table.

But you still do what he asks. Sighing, you haphazardly put a plate down on both ends of the table with silverware bordering each side to match. You grab glasses next and put them there too. Once everything is in its perfect place, you plop down at your seat, deciding to wait here until he joins you. This chair was out of view from the kitchen which meant you could get a few moments alone to brace yourself.

It's not that anything terrible was going to happen. It was just going to be a conversation. But it would be a relationship conversation, an emotional conversation, something neither of you were good at.

You weren't good at it because you'd never been good at it. Ever since you were a kid, the slightest spotlight put on your feelings had barbs forming in your throat and stinging, salty tears brimming your lash line. Everything had to be coaxed out of you, or you were sure to break down. 

Leon wasn't good at it because his version of a conversation came across more as an interrogation. When talking about feelings, he never wanted to talk about his own. He'd never share what was going on in his own head, he only wanted to know what was going on in yours. You were the one struggling; therefore, you were the one he needed to help. You were the mission to be resolved.

You supposed that was consistent with everything else about the man you loved. He always wanted to be the one in control, the one managing the details of your life. It came from the desire to protect. He showed his love by keeping you safe, keeping you from being like him. He went away for weeks on end following orders. When he came home, he liked to be the one doling them out.

And that was how you liked it too. You weren't some unwilling victim. When he offered to try this stuff out with you, you couldn't have been happier. You liked being told to do this and do it now. You liked the security of his lap, the promise that no matter how bad things got he would be there to wipe away your tears and make it all better.

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. You were pretty sure you knew what the specific topic of conversation would be tonight. You'd been distant lately. You could already hear his voice ringing through your head telling you that. For the past couple weeks, you hadn't been you. You hadn't been as sweet on him, kissing his cheeks and stroking his hair while you cuddled. Hadn't been hanging off his body or climbing all over him every chance you got. Hadn't been as eager to squeal daddy when he made you cum.

You knew why, and you knew he didn't. That was by design though. You didn't want him to know. This whole situation had spiraled so far out of control, and you just wanted to sweep your mess under the rug and forget about it. You didn't need daddy's help cleaning it up.

It shouldn't even be that big of a deal. Nothing that bad had happened.

The night that had your panties in a bunch happened a few weeks ago. You'd had a shitty day and so had Leon. You were looking to act out, and he was looking to punish.

You gave him some attitude. A few eye rolls and sharp responses when he asked you things. Looking back, you think maybe you should've sensed he was in a bad mood and just dropped it. That's when the other part of you chimes in and wonders why he couldn't do the same for you. Why couldn't he feel out your emotions and realize you needed him? But then you start to feel emotionally stunted, expecting your boyfriend to be a mind reader. 

This internal conversation never gets very far.

That night he hadn't read your mind. He'd taken you over his lap and given you a spanking. It was pretty standard. You'd had over a dozen of those by his hand at this point. The slaps weren't the problem. His palm hit you all the same, bringing the sting you craved. The part that stuck with you and created this wedge was just him. It was how he spoke, the way he looked at you. 

You could still see the eyes you fell in love with looking at you with nothing but disappointment.

You could still hear him growling in your ear when he had you bent in half and fucked you afterwards. He had you face down on the couch, holding your head against the cushion while he jackhammered into you.

"If you want my attention, all you have to do is ask. You know that. But you never fucking do it. You play these games with me. You think I wanna put up with that? You think I come home and wanna hear you bitching at me too?"

You weren't even sure what about it had got you. It was harsh, sure, but it was supposed to be.

"I want you to be a good girl. To behave. I don't want to deal with a bratty little slut."

He'd said stuff like that before. But in that moment it didn't feel like daddy was mad at you, it felt like your boyfriend was. It didn't feel like you were naughty or misbehaving. It felt like you were pathetic.

"You want daddy's attention so bad, next time you say please like you're supposed to. Don't make me go through the chore of disciplining your ass again. I'm over it."

By some miracle you still got to cum. He came inside you like normal. When he pulled out he'd fallen back onto the cushions of the couch to catch his breath. He lied there, fingers wiping the sweat from his brow as if he'd put in a hard day's work. You sat there unsure of what to do with yourself. After he'd come down a little more, he'd pulled you close, kissed all over your face like normal and taken to you to bed. But you'd laid there with your eyes open, trying not to cry as he snored against the back of your neck.

You're snapped out of your memories by the thud of the pot on the dining room table. Leon stood a few feet away from you, oven mitts on both hands as he placed the dish between your seats. He cracks a smile at you when you look up and meet his eyes.

"I made way too much. I hope you're hungry," he teases.

You respond with a weak grin of your own. Sitting up straight in your chair, you blink a few times and rub your face as if that'd be enough to clear away the past and magically fix everything.

Two of his fingers duck below your chin and guide you to look at him again.

"You ok?" he asks. His voice is tender like it is most of the time when he speaks to you.

"Yeah. I'm just tired," you tell him with a more convincing smile. You're not sure if it works, but he seems to accept it for now.

"Alright," he says, leaning down and kissing the corner of your mouth.

He takes his seat across the table, opposite yours. You get the privilege of serving your portion first. You shovel a helping of pasta onto your plate. The red sauce spreads on your plate, and you grab a piece of toast to soak some of it up. Leon repeats your actions and gets some of the food for himself. He had made too much. You'd definitely have leftovers, but that was nothing to complain about. He made dinner before these conversations for a reason. Like anything else, he was a good cook when he wanted to be.

The meal starts off silent as you had expected it to. You both eat instead of trying to talk. Forks hitting plates and bread crunching into two fills the room in the place of words. A sense of calm comes over you, but you know it won't last forever. Eventually, Leon does break the silence with some basic questions. How was your day, wasn't this summer heat killer, did you see he fixed that thing in the garage you'd asked him to. It's fine. Just fine like everything had been for the past couple weeks.

The conversation reaches another lull though, and this is when he goes for the killing strike.

"Baby, I think we need to talk," he sighs.

You raise your eyebrows as if you hadn't been expecting this.

"About what?" you ask after swallowing your mouthful of pasta.

Now he raises his eyebrows. He's not disappointed, but he knows you're playing dumb and doesn't appreciate it. It's affectionate though. It doesn't look like it did a few weeks ago.

"I know something's bothering you," he tries softly.

"I told you I was tired," you shrug and look away.

"It's not just today though. It's been more than a few days," he says.

You sigh and put your fork down. You're conscious of every part of your reaction in an effort to avoid looking pouty or melting into tears.

"I don't know. The past few weeks I just haven't felt great. It's not like a crisis situation or something," you say.

"Then tell me about it, sweetheart," he says, trying to will you to look up at him with his gentle tone, "I want to help, but I don't know what's wrong. Every time I try, you pull away."

"Not on purpose," you add. It's an important defense to you.

"I'm not saying it's on purpose," he says. You can tell he's trying to be as non-confrontational as possible. Maybe he does pick up on your emotions a little bit. "All I'm saying is that I'm worried about you."

And with one little sentence, you feel the spikes starting to poke through. You look down and place your palm on your eyes. You felt ten times more pathetic than you had a few weeks ago. He can see you're getting closer to breaking, so he continues.

"You can talk to me. If you need something or I did something, I just want to make it better," he continues, "I don't like not knowing what's going on in that pretty head. I like it even less seeing you look so sad."

Your lip wobbles. A last resort to hold in the barrage of emotions. "It's nothing," you choke out.

"It's not nothing if it has you this upset," he counters, speaking quietly, "Just talk to me, little love."

That's all it takes, and you can't hold it anymore. Tears leak from your water line and draw limpid streaks down your face. You bite your lip to nip any audible cries in the bud. It doesn't matter though, he still sees the small droplets of water.

"My baby," he coos, "C'mere."

You rise to your feet in an instant and round the table. He pushes his chair back and takes you into his lap. You're cradled by his warmth, safe against his chest as he rubs your back. As much as you loved mentally complaining about his interrogations, maybe this is what you needed. Maybe this worked for you.

"You're ok. I'm right here," he murmurs. 

He kisses your hairline and cups the back of your neck to keep you close. He lets you cry it out before attempting any more questions. Once it seems you've settled though, the spotlight is back on you.

"What's wrong, sunshine?" he whispers.

Try as he might, you still couldn't bring yourself to say the words. It was like two wires in your brain that just did not physically connect. Expressing pain was hard enough, but expressing pain that he caused? This inability killed you, it really did. Thinking about it brings another sob from your lips. You wanted to beat your own ass till she had enough of a spine to just say a few simple words so this could all be over.

You can't do that though, so Leon continues on with his tender questions.

"Can you tell me when you started feeling this way?" he asks with a hint of hesitation.

There that was one you could answer. "Few weeks ago."

He nods, taking any information he could get as crucial.

"Alright... is there something stressing you out?" he asks.

You shake your head. Technically there was something stressing you out, but while you were breaking down, 'stressing out' was code for responsibilities, so the answer is no.

"Problems with your friends?"

Another head shake.

"Family?"

No.

"...Me?"

You almost shake your head again. You could swing just making something up on the spot. But that wouldn't be right to him. He'd done the work of the guessing game and come to the conclusion fair and square. You nod yes.

A whirlpool of emotion forms in his pupils, but it's almost like he knew he was to blame. He nods and sighs. His hand doesn't stop rubbing your back.

"Ok," he breathes, "You gotta give me a hint, honey."

You found words coming a bit easier now that he had led you this far.

"Remember a few weeks ago when you got mad at me?" you rasp and look at him with your watery eyes.

He blinks at you. "We got into a fight a few weeks ago?" he asks. 

There's genuine confusion in his tone. He didn't remember. Or at least this day didn't stick out in his mind. He hadn't been dwelling on it since it happened, hadn't been wondering if it meant something greater in the context of your relationship. You weren't sure if that brought you relief or frustration.

"No. It was like... it was when I had a bad day and I came home and you were watching that stupid cop show. And I kept talking. And you told me to shut up. And I said you were only watching it cause you didn't know how to change the channel," you list off some of the events that led to the infamous incident.

He smiles upon remembering that little joke. He found it funny. Then why did he get so mean?

"Don't tell me you've been mad cause I wouldn't let you watch your show instead," he teases.

"No, it's not that. Remember after when you spanked me? And then we fucked on the couch..." you sniffle.

He pauses to think about your words. The gears turn in his head, the pieces fall into place. The lightbulb goes off in his eyes.

"Oh yeah. I remember that," he says. He remembers, but he doesn't understand. "What about it?"

His thumb swipes a few tears away while waiting for the answer you were still trying to formulate.

"Well... like... I don't know," you start. You felt ridiculous verbalizing it. "You just kinda hurt my feelings."

His brows furrow. He still doesn't get it.

"Hurt your feelings?" he repeats, "I didn't hit you too hard, did I? You know if that ever happens you have the word. You say it, and I stop for you in a heartbeat. You know that."

"It didn't hurt like that... it's just some of the stuff you said," you say. The urge to pull away is starting to come back.

"Sweetheart," he says. His voice is dripping with concern. He didn't remember saying anything bad enough that you'd still be twisted into knots over it multiple weeks later. "You know you can use the word for that kind of thing too. Please tell me you know that."

"I know that," you start, feeling a little ashamed. This was exactly why you didn't want to talk about this.

"If I say something that hurts you this bad, you need to tell me. Right when I say it. You tell me to stop. You let me remind you it's not real," he says, quiet but firm. He holds you tighter, unintentionally squeezing more tears out of you. "I only say things I think will get you off. I don't say them to hurt you."

You hide your face in his neck. You felt so fucking pathetic.

"Hey, hey, hey. Shhh. It's ok. I just... I want you to understand, baby," he murmurs. He rocks you back and forth on his lap a bit before speaking again. "Can you tell me why you didn't use the word?"

Leon prayed with everything he had that it wasn't because you were scared of him. If that was it, you might as well pick up the fork off the table and jam it right into his heart. You don't answer, and it worries him. All he gets from you is the feeling of tears dribbling down his throat.

"Did it not hurt till afterwards? Did you think I wouldn't stop?" he coaxes.

You shake your head. "Cause... because I don't want you to think I can't take it," you weep.

While he's relieved it's not what he feared, he didn't expect this.

"What do you mean? You can't take it?" he repeats.

"I don't want you to think I'm a bratty little girl. I told you that stuff was ok, and I don't wanna tap out and make you feel all guilty and stuff," you cry, the words rushing from your mouth.

He sighs and his eyes close for a second. He did feel like a piece of shit now, but with what you just said, he didn't want you knowing that.

"My sweet girl," he says against your head while rubbing your back, "I would never think that about you. The word is there for you to use it whenever you want. It doesn't matter if it makes me worry I hurt you. That's not a bad thing."

You cry more into his neck, clinging to him as if you're trying to merge into one.

"I just don't wanna disappoint you," you sob.

"Baby, baby, baby," he whispers, holding you tight against his chest and rocking you again, "You never disappoint me. You don't. Not when you act bratty, not when you break a rule. That shit is all a game. It's a game, and if you don't like it, we don't have to play it.

"I know you're sensitive. I know you get emotional. I'm with you knowing that stuff. It doesn't make me think of you as an obligation. I like being daddy, but it doesn't make me think of you like that. If it makes you feel like that, we can stop. You're more important than any of it."

"I do like it," you weep, "I just... I don't want you to think I'm pathetic."

"I don't think that. I never have," he says and kisses your temple, "You're my baby. My pretty girl. My favorite person on this planet."

You sniffle and snake your arms around him tighter.

"Pathetic or disappointment never cross my mind when I look at you. Half the time I don't even have thoughts when I see you. You're so fucking gorgeous you take 'em all away," he whispers.

He nudges your head out of the crook of his neck so he can see you. His lips land on your forehead first. Then your nose. Then each cheek. And finally your lips.

"Look at me," he whispers.

You do what he asks and look up at him. You look into his eyes. These were the eyes you fell in love with.

"You are not a disappointment," he says before a kiss, "You are not pathetic. I love you. I love you when you're being good or when you're being a little shit. I love when you wanna call me daddy, but you'd still be mine if you decided you never wanted to say that word again."

"I still wanna call you daddy," you sniffle and give him a small smile.

He chuckles and returns the expression. "That was a quick decision," he teases, "Doesn't sound like you thought it through."

"I did. I still want my daddy," you say and put your head down on his shoulder.

"Good. Cause I'm right here," he says softly, "Daddy's got you."

The problem wasn't totally resolved in Leon's mind. Never again did he want to cause you weeks worth of stress over something like this. But for now, he was happy to see you smile. He could accept this temporary fix. He nuzzles your neck and places a few soft kisses on your throat.

"I think daddy needs to make it up to his baby for being so mean to her. For making her cry like that," he whispers.

A warm tingle branches out through your spine and curves around your ribs. You scoot closer to him in his lap and shrug, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Don't give me that shrug. You know you like being spoiled. Being the center of attention," he whispers.

"Yeah..." you whisper in his ear.

He grunts as he rises to his feet with you in his arms. Your legs lock around his waist before his feet even start moving. He'd clean up the table later. Right now was about you.

He carries you through the house, tosses you onto the bed. You squeak at your glide through the air. He pulls his shirt off and drops his pants before climbing on top of you. Always efficient your Leon.

The warm lengths of his muscular limbs encompass you against the mattress. He starts by kissing you on the mouth, but his lips soon trail down to your neck. Tongue and teeth brush over the balmy skin of your neck. He nips a few hickeys along the curve of your throat, listening for every little hitch in your breath or stifled moan.

"Always with those pretty little noises..." he mumbles against your skin.

He inhales you before moving away, gets his fix of your scent before his hands push your shirt over your head and toss to the floor with his. His hands rub up and down your side, gently squeezing and massaging while his mouth migrates towards your chest. He lays kisses at the tops of your breasts. He can feel your heart pattering against his lips. It drives him crazy, feeling what he does to you down to that level.

Your legs wrap around his waist and pull his body closer. You couldn't get close enough after the weeks of distance. He groans as his crotch comes flush against yours. It's as if he can feel the heat of your center through the layers of cloth that separate you.

He kisses between your breasts, forcing himself to remove your bra before he thinks about your pants. He nuzzles the two spheres of flesh with all the care he holds in his body. He'd never been good with words, and the last few weeks proved as much. Showing you physically how he feels is easier.

"Haven't been able to kiss my girls properly in too long," he murmurs and glances up at you, cocky smile in his eyes.

"You're stupid," you laugh quietly.

"Hey. That's not a nice word, princess. Not one you should be calling your daddy," he chides before giving one of your nipples a few sucks.

You sigh contently and arch into the wet embrace of his mouth. "Sorry daddy," you smile.

"I'm sure you are."

He gives your tits some more attention, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't antsy to get his fingers wet. They fumble with the button on your shorts before he lifts your legs and practically tears the garment loose. He kisses your ankle and down your calf to your knee where his hands take over and press them up against your torso. He can feel your slick creating a wet patch on the front of his boxers and ruts into it. His cock grows stiffer beneath the fabric as if trying to get to you.

"You ready for me, babydoll? Dripping like a good girl? Gonna be nice and easy for daddy to slide right in," he says while leaning down to be close to you.

You nod eagerly, your nose bumping against his.

"Nothing makes it better than having daddy inside, hm?" he coos.

"Don't need anything else," you say and sling your arms around his neck.

That's all he needs to hear. He pushes his underwear down his legs enough so that his cock is free. You feel it slot between your puffy outer folds and prod at your entrance.

He slips it inside, and you both groan. Your head tilts back, allowing him to kiss at your neck some more. You'd had sex since that fight, but this was the first time you were feeling full. The first time you were feeling like his again.

"Daddy," you whine and grab at him. Just what he'd been missing.

His hips start to rock. The bones in his pelvis press right up against your ass. He fucks you deep and slow at first. Each thrust glides over a myriad of sweet spots. Every time he pulls back, you just want him to push right back in.

"That's it, honey. Tell daddy how much you missed him," he grunts.

You don't say it with words. You tighten up around him, squeezing his dick like if it gets out you'll die. The sensation wrangles a moan out of him, and his face drops into your neck. He digs his forearms into the mattress and uses the leverage to pump himself into you harder.

"My perfect, perfect girl. Don't know what I'd do without you," he whispers.

Your eyes flutter shut. You just listen to the sound of his panting, feel his heart beating for you. Your thighs tremble while pressing into his waist. Your toes curl as his hips strike the right angle to batter right where you need him.

"You could never disappoint me," he mutters. You feel his lips moving against your throat. "I love you, sweet girl. Nothing you do could ever change that."

The words are almost enough to make you get all weepy again, but you'd cried enough for one day. Instead your body latches onto him tighter.

"Harder," you whimper.

"You sure, baby?" he hums.

Your nod comes quickly. "Need to feel it more. Need it harder."

So he gives it to you harder. His eyes clamp shut and shroud his vision in darkness. He focuses on thrusting hard, clapping his skin against yours over and over. He pounds into you while pressing his face harder against you too.

You show your gratitude with a whine. His shaft hits just right, fills you up just the way you'd been aching for.

"Almost there, daddy- Can I-" you stumble over words.

"Yeah, sweetheart. You don't gotta ask tonight. You cum when you're ready," he says.

That's how you know he's really sorry. He keeps fucking into you until he feels your limbs fizzling from the proximity to release. Everything about you gets shaky. Your breaths are ragged and labored, your hands vibrate while trying to clutch at him.

"Fuck fuck fuck," you whimper.

The spark goes off inside you, and you cum hard. Your body goes taut and rolls through the waves of euphoria. He can't resist your walls pulsating around him. It's only a handful of seconds before his tummy is fluttering and his seed is spilling from him into your cunt.

"Inside, daddy," you whine as if he needed the direction.

"That's what I'm doing, baby," he grunts through clenched teeth.

He drools against your neck while his hips twitch and the last few drops leak from him. The saliva gets smeared in the messy kisses he leaves on you while pulling out. He rolls over but scoops you up with him, cradling you against his chest in a position that isn't necessarily comfortable but you love anyway.

A series of over the top kisses land on your face. You scrunch your nose and shake your head.

"Quit it. I already forgave you," you giggle, "You don't gotta slobber on me."

"Tsk tsk. Ungrateful," he tuts affectionately, "You know if I didn't give you these, you'd be begging for 'em."

"Mmm... maybe," you acquiesce with a little smile.

"Sure, sure. Maybe. Silly girl," he mumbles and nuzzles your cheek.

The playful touches continues for a moment before he calms down and softens up. You look towards his eyes, and his fingers sweep down your cheek.

"You're ok now?" he asks.

You nod. "We're ok now."

To give him the final shred of reassurance that you could, you stick out your pinky. He rolls his eyes, but sticks his out to and hooks it with yours. He knew you were back to yourself since your inability to be serious had made a reappearance. He smacks a kiss on your lips to seal the deal. He can feel you smiling into it.

[rascal-xo]

HI!!

Im here to make a Lil chubby ghost request 🙏💕 (your writing is SO good btw)

kinda like a part 2 to sweet indulgences??? So like reader cooks a bunch of baked goods for him and he gains weight bc of it and gets insecure about it and reader reassures him n stuff (make it smutty if you want ‼️)

If you do this THANK YOU YOU'RE A BLESSING TO SOCIETY

Sweet Nothings | Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader |

This is a part 2 to Sweet Indulgence but can be read as a standalone <3

Chapter Summary: Being home from the chaos of the 141, Simon basks in his wife’s love language which happens to be baking, leading to a little insecurity.

Warnings: FLUFF, SMUT, insecurities, Domestic!Simon

Word Count: 1.7K

Tags: @whirly-birbs 💛

You awoke up early in the morning, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face Turning your head to the side and saw Simon still sound asleep beside you. You can't help but watch as his chest rose and fell with each long breath he took. You couldn’t help but reach out and run your fingers through his hair,

In his sleep, Simon was at a peace he didn’t know out in the field. He was undisturbed in his rest, laying on his stomach, with an arm lazily draped over your midsection.

You couldn't resist leaning in to press a soft kiss against his forehead, savoring the warmth of his skin against your lips. You pulled back and watched as he shifted slightly, his breathing deepening once again as he settled back into a deeper sleep.

You took a moment to appreciate the peacefulness of the moment, knowing it would be short-lived once Simon had to return to work. You let your gaze travel over his face, taking in the faint scars and the little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that appeared when he smiled.

You remembered the day you met him, the way he had looked at you with those same eyes, your heart swelled with love for this man who had sacrificed so much. Finally, he stirred again, and this time his eyes opened. He looked at you sleepily, his lips quirking up into a small smile. "You’re up early, love," he said, his voice husky from sleep.

You smiled back at him, feeling your heart skip a beat at the sight of him. "Go back to sleep Si. You should rest.” You said, your voice quiet close to his face. He responded sleepily, pulling you closer to him, and letting himself fall back into the sleep he so desperately deserved.

You let yourself stay cuddled in his embrace for a little while longer before finally deciding to get up. You picked his t shirt off of the floor and slipped it over your body. It reached your mid thighs, fitting you like a dress. It was the way Simon liked you best walking around the house.

Simon being home meant you could spoil him in your favorites of ways, especially baking. One thing about your husband was that he was a sucker for anything you made. It was your language, and who couldn’t want to wake up to the smell of fresh pastries or baked goods?

You tiptoed out of the bedroom, careful not to wake him, and made your way to the kitchen after freshening up. You preheated the oven and started gathering the ingredients for Simons favorite blueberry muffins.

As you put together the batter, you couldn't help but think about how lucky you were to have Simon home with you for the next three weeks. It was rare that you got this much time together, and you wanted to make the most of it.

Once the muffins were in the oven, you cleaned up the kitchen and headed back to the bedroom. Simon was still sound asleep, and you couldn't resist climbing back into bed beside him.

You snuggled up close to him, resting your head on his chest and listening to the steady thump of his heart. It was slower than a regular heartbeat, like the deep rumble of distant thunder. Each beat was deliberate and purposeful, as if his heart was taking its time to rest and recover after the stresses of being in the field

After a while, the timer for the oven went off, and you reluctantly began to pull yourself away from Simon's embrace to go and check on them. “Leaving so soon?” His voice sounded huskily from next to you.

“Made you something special, for when you get up.”

“Smell’s amazing.” Simon smiled at you as you got out of bed, watching you move with an ease and grace that always left him a little breathless. But as he watched you leave, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of insecurity.

Over the past few weeks he’d been home, he had gained some weight, and not that he wouldn’t give anything to be able to eat your food all the time, he also found himself feeling self-conscious about it.

He got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom, his eyes drawn to his reflection in the mirror. He didn't like what he saw.

He sighed, running his hands over his stomach, feeling the softness of the flesh there. He had always been in peak physical condition as far as special forces gave him the ability to, but the past few weeks being home had taken their toll on him.

He made his way back to the bedroom and got dressed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. You were standing at the counter, your back to him, as you pulled the last of the muffins out of the oven.

You turned around, your eyes lighting up at the sight of Simon. "Morning," You said, holding one of the baked goods out to him.

Simon took the muffin from you, his eyes flickering down for a moment. "Thank you, love" he said, his voice quiet. "These look amazing."

You looked at him, sensing that something was off. "What's wrong, Si?" You asked, your voice gentle. You moved closer to him wrapping an arm around his midsection and looking up to gaze.

“Don’t you feel like I've let myself go, love?” He finally spoke, his voice a little softer. He looked down at you with an expression in his eyes you hadn’t quite seen like this.

You could see the vulnerability in Simon's eyes, and it broke your heart. You took a step closer, your arms going a bit loose around him to get a better look at his face. “Oh, Si, no. I love how you look." you answered instantly.

Simon let out a small sigh, his arms resting on your hips. "I just feel like I'm not as fit as I used to be," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You don't need to change a thing, Si.“ You repeated again, kissing his stubbled cheek softly. You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, “Besides, I love you like this. Being at home in one piece is a good look on you.” You chuckled.

Simon's expression softened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you." he said, his voice filled with emotion. “My sweet girl.”

You pulled back from his embrace for a second, taking in the morning glow of his face, before reaching up to pull his lips to yours, resting your hand on the back of his neck.

Simon’s lips softly pressed against yours. His hand caressing your hips, as you wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened as your passion intensified. Simon's tongue lightly traced the seam of your lips, asking for entrance, and you eagerly parted allowing him to deepen the kiss.

Your tongues dance together in a slow, sensual rhythm as your bodies press against each other, trying to find a way to be closer than you already were

Simon broke the kiss, moving along your jawline, down to your neck, leaving a trail of sweet, tender kisses. You tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck to Simon's lips. You let out a soft sigh, melting into his touch.

His hands explore your body, running under your thighs moving his t shirt higher up. He began to lower himself, and you moaned softly as his lips found their from your nipples down your lower stomach, leaving a trail of kisses along the way.

Your hands tangled in his messy hair as he continued to explore your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You felt a rush of desire wash over you as he moved his kisses down to the insides of your thighs, sucking on the exposed skin.

You let your legs fall open, offering yourself to him completely, and Simon took full advantage, his hand bringing your right leg to rest over his shoulder, exposing your heat to him.

You looked up, his eyes now dark with desire. You could see the hunger and longing in his gaze, and it only added to your own desire.

Simon's tongue found its way to your clit, and you moaned as his tongue began to explore you. His touch was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

You couldn't hold back your moans, your body writhing beneath his touch as he continued to pleasure you. Simon's fingers found their way inside you, moving in sync with his mouth, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Your breathing became ragged as you felt yourself getting closer and closer. You arched your back, holding onto the counter behind you. Your fingers digging into his hair as you let out a cry of pleasure. Simon didn't stop, continuing to work his magic. “Fuck, I’m close, Si.” You could barely make out the words.

Simon's eyes were fixed on you, his focus solely on giving you pleasure. He groaned, quickening his pace, his fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony. You were lost in the moment, consumed by the sensations running through your body.

Your walls began to tighten around his fingers, and you knew you were close. Your moans turned into cries of ecstasy.

You came hard, your body shaking with pleasure as you rode out your high. Simon's mouth and fingers stayed with you throughout, never letting up until you were completely spent.

He stood up, his face now level with yours, his lips claiming yours once again. You could taste yourself on him, the sensation only adding to your desire.

You could feel his hardness pressed against you, and you knew that he wanted you just as badly as you needed him. You looked up into his eyes and nodded, silently giving him permission to take you.

He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the couch. You captured his mouth again, “Show me how much you love me.” You mumbled against his lips.

And that he did.

[juletheghoul]

Oblivius Chapter 5

I have so many feelings about these two, Spills & Francis may be two idiot babies but they're my idiot babies and I LOVE them. Lots of yearning in this chapter, and maybe a different side to Claudia.👀

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Angst, yearning, 18+ language, mentions of alcohol / being drunk (Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 4 Part 6 Playlist

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

Age 18:

His truck was full.

He was driving, you were shotgun - like always - and there were three more friends in the back. The trunk held boogie boards and towels, sunscreen and a cooler full of food and drinks.

You got there early enough that you found a good spot and within half an hour you were completely set up. There were three big beach blankets spread out with two big umbrellas to hide under when the sun got too hot.

“Spills, can you get my back?” He was handing you the sunscreen as he pulled his shirt up.

You were momentarily taken aback, you’d known him for so long, this wasn’t your first beach trip but he looked… good.

You spent a little longer than you should have making sure every inch of the golden skin of his back and shoulders was covered in sunscreen. Making sure to dip your hands just under the band of his swim trunks. When he turned he had a big smile and you had to ignore the way your stomach flipped.

Get a grip, it’s just Francis.

You couldn’t get a grip though, not with the way butterflies swarmed in your stomach whenever you paid attention to him. His hair was growing out a bit, curling slightly at the edges. You’d never thought about him this way and you had to keep reminding yourself to look away.

Later on in the day when you were in the water you played the same games you’d played since you were kids and when you jumped on his back he didn’t push you away; his skin warm from the sun. Instead he let you wrap your legs around him and everything felt right.

“You okay back there?” He laughed as he held onto the back of your knees.

“Peachy.” You smiled as you held on.

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

**Present Day**

“Hola Mijo, you better go in there and calm her down.” His mom greeted him at the door when he walked in, her eyebrows raised at him.

“Hola mami, what happened?” He kissed her on the cheek like he always did before making his way further into the house. She couldn’t say - just that Claudia was upset. He was walking towards her, but his mind was still back with Spills. He could still smell her hair as he made his way into the den.

It’s the same shampoo, she still uses the same shampoo. Focus Francisco.

Claudia was almost shouting into her cellphone.

“Well I need it here sooner than that. My wedding is in three weeks and I need everything to be perfect - so I don’t give a shit what you have to do to get my dress here in time but you better find a way to do it!” She was looking daggers at him and he let her finish the phone call before he spoke.

“What’s going on babe?” He put his hands on her arms and started trying to calm her but she shrugged out of his grasp.

“What’s wrong Francisco, is that I told you this would be difficult.” She wasn’t yelling but her tone was icy. “How am I supposed to get married without a wedding dress. Would have been fine if we were back home.”

Not this again.

“Claudia, I told you when we got engaged that I wanted to get married here and you agreed. I explained to you very clearly that I’ve been away from my home, my life, my family - my friends for years and I wanted to get married here. Now tell me what the problem is.” He wanted his feelings to be clear. He loved Claudia, he really did. She was sweet and beautiful and she treated him well. She could be a little spoiled though and if he didn’t put his foot down now, he’d never have a choice about anything ever again.

He would not live his life that way.

“Yes I know I agreed, and for the most part I’m okay with it. I know your whole life is here, but it would have been so easy to get married there.” She pouted and it didn’t invoke the feeling it should have. It didn’t spur him to try to please her, it annoyed him.

He momentarily thought about when Spills pouted up at him, it never annoyed him. He pushed the thought away.

“Maybe, but we’re not getting married there. We’re getting married here, now what can we do? Let's look for a solution.” He softened up at her a little bit, after all he wanted her to be happy.

She sighed loudly and put her arms around his neck, her voice got a little higher as she tried to appeal to him.

“Frankie, baby- I just want everything to be perfect.”

That doesn’t work on me.

“Let’s just try to have everything go smoothly. It’ll be our day regardless, right?” He put his hands on her waist to bring her close, trying to get her out of her head.

“How long do we have to stay here Francisco?” She leaned back to look up into his face and he sighed.

“We have to talk about that, after the wedding we’re going back to stay with your family for a little while but then we have to talk about where we’re going to live.” He held her, but she pulled away.

“I don’t want to live here after Francisco. I appreciate that you grew up here and everything and we can visit but I do not want to live here.” She crossed her arms petulantly, and he took a deep breath to steady himself. They’d spoken about this before and she had agreed to give it an honest try, but they’d been in town less than a week and already she was telling him she hated it.

“You can’t know that in three days babe.” He sat on the couch.

When they agreed to get married - he’d been scared of this, he’d been scared that she’d do this. He knew she loved him, and he loved her - as much as he could - but the look on her face when he’d put his foot down about spending this time at home should have told him everything.

She didn’t say anything, she sat with him and reluctantly agreed.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I just miss home. I’ll give it another shot.” She sounded genuine and he wanted to believe that. “How was your night with Spills? Is she feeling better?” She smiled at him, putting her hand on his thigh and he placed his over hers. A silent truce.

“She’s doing much better, we ate dinner and watched a movie.” He held her hand as he spoke and she smiled at him.

“I’m glad to hear that - hopefully she doesn’t get that drunk at the wedding.” She laughed lightly.

He knew she didn’t mean it in a nasty way, but he bristled at her words.

“She was just nervous about meeting all of you, and even if she did it would be fine. Everyone gets drunk at weddings.” He tried not to sound defensive but she raised her eyebrows at him. “I just don’t want you to think that she’s a mess. She’s like a-” He couldn’t say sister, he’s never thought of her as a sister. She was so much more. “She’s just really important to me.”

“I know babe. I didn’t mean it like that, she seems sweet.” She smiled at him. She was still trying to get back in his good graces, taking his defensiveness as residual anger. Thankfully.

“We should plan something for all of us to do together. It could give us more time to bond.” He thought about it momentarily then agreed, he knew exactly what to plan.

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

There was something playing on the TV, you caught vague flashes - people talking but you weren’t taking anything in. Your sweatshirt smelled like Frankie and all you wanted was to cuddle up to him. He had been so sturdy beside you, so strong and comfortable.

What the fuck is a wedding emergency?

The mature - adult part of your brain said she was a nice person and if Frankie was with her it was for a reason. Obviously he was happy with her or he wouldn’t be marrying her. Frankie had never been the kind of person to settle.

The other part of your brain, the jealous possessive part told you she was a bitch. She was ruining the life you’d planned out with Frankie. If he’d never met her you’d be together now, laughing and planning the rest of your lives together. He’d be in your bed, or you’d be in his.

[Francis]: Hey Spills, we’re planning a get together for the wedding party - day after tomorrow - beach day. I’ll be there to pick you up at 7am.

It was like the universe was testing you. How many memories could he taint with Claudia?

[you]: sounds good, Claudia, you, me and who else in rustbucket?

[Francis]: Just you and I, and don’t call her that. Claudia’s family is coming so she’s going to ride to the beach with them. I’ll grab coffee on the way. =)

[you]: Hope you have a new tape in there, if I have to listen to queen I’ll jump out of the car

[Francis]: lol a ride is a ride Spills, see you then

[Francis]: was really nice hanging out with you today btw, goodnight

[you]: I had a great time with you - like always, thanks again for all the food, goodnight Francis!

--------

It was easy to ignore everything when you were getting work done, you had taken off a few days when you knew Francis would be home and you were taking advantage of it. The day before your beach trip was used to do all those little tasks you tended to put off.

Your laundry was done, the kitchen was clean, even the fridge had gotten a bit of elbow grease. Everything was ready and packed for the trip.

You tried not to think about the ride to the beach with Francis, you tried not to think back to your previous trips to the beach with him. Those memories were so precious and thinking about how your next memory would be with him, and his new in-laws was tearing you up inside.

Please let this go well, please don’t let me make a fool of myself.

You hoped someone was listening.

The anxiety didn’t let you sleep and you watched the clock crawl closer to morning; it seemed pointless to lay there.

Might as well get ready.

-----

He wasn’t nervous, but he wasn’t excited.

He made his way over to her house, stopping to grab coffee on the way. He thought about his conversation with Claudia, about the possibility of leaving this place. He really didn’t want to. He wanted to be close to his mom, he wanted to be close to his friends and his home.

I want to be close to Spills, I want to see her everyday.

He scolded himself, he was going to marry someone else. He kept trying to remind himself, but when he saw her walking towards his car it all went out the window.

God Spills, you’re killing me.

She put her beach bag and a small cooler in the backseat and got into his truck with a big smile, pushing all other thoughts out of his mind. He handed her the coffee he bought and she took it gratefully, brushing against his fingers, even now - she affected him so much.

Snap out of it Francisco, you aren’t a teenager anymore. This is your friend.

“Hazelnut?” She asked as she smelled the steam floating around her pretty face.

“Of course.” He pulled away from her place, making his way towards the highway. It would be an hour or so until they got to the beach.

“Open up.” The buttery bagel half she put into his mouth as he drove tasted better than he remembered.

------

The drive was over much too soon.

If only it had lasted all day - catching him up on all the gossip he’d missed out on while away. Watching his excitement when he talked about flying, you could have listened to him talk forever.

“Finally!” Cheers rang out when the two of you arrived. The boys had set up a bunch of blankets and umbrellas and you suddenly remembered the state you’d been in the last time they saw you and you felt the blush creeping up.

Benny smiled big when he saw you, tapping the place beside him after you’d all said your hellos. You had no reason to deny him so you sat, setting up all your stuff within the space he made for you.

Blessedly, Claudia hadn’t arrived yet and you cherished this time without her, maybe it was mean - maybe it was selfish but you couldn't help it.

“Hey - Thanks for the other night, for getting me home and making sure I was okay.” Pope set up his stuff on the other side of you.

“No problem, glad to see you feeling better.” He was talking to you but you noticed him give Benny a curious look. Benny ignored it. You watched as Will and Frankie set up a volleyball net, you studied both men and there was no denying that Will was gorgeous; but your eyes were drawn to Frankie. You couldn’t help it, your eyes raked over him greedily.

He was so broad, stronger than he had been in his teen years and his belly had gotten a little softer with age but it suited him. He was gorgeous, he had always been gorgeous. He felt your eyes on him then and he smiled at you, walking over to you with the sunscreen in his hands like he always did. His smile faltered slightly when his gaze landed behind your place in the sand.

“Hey babe, how was the drive?” Claudia and her family had arrived and they were setting up just behind you.

Do you have some sort of alarm? How are you always ruining every single goddamn moment?

“It was hectic! Left a little later than I meant to but we survived.” She was breathless as she came to greet him. You busied yourself with something, anything in your bag to avoid watching them kiss. When you looked back she was squeezing sunscreen onto his back, rubbing the lotion much the same way you used to whenever you’d come to the beach together.

He didn’t meet your eyes when she did it, and you were thankful. You didn’t think you could handle seeing him enjoying her touch so much. Instead you focused on the people around you. You focused on Benny and Will and Pope, trying your best to ingratiate yourself to them. Hopefully erase the memory of you as a belligerent mess.

---

As the day went on you found that you liked these guys, not just as an extension of Francis - but because they were fun. They made you laugh, they spoke to you like they’d known you your whole life. They almost distracted you enough. You also noticed that Claudia was only here to lounge in the sun. She had absolutely no interest in getting in the water, no matter how many times she was asked by Frankie to join him.

He played it off like it didn’t bother him but you knew it did, and that in turn hurt you but your heart leapt when he turned to you.

“Spills, wanna come in the water with me?” He smiled and held out his hand and you gladly accepted. Following him in like you always had.

“Not much of a swimmer?” You couldn’t help but ask when the two of you were in the water.

“Not really, it’s a shame - the water's perfect today.” He floated, making sure to splash you and you waited until he was perfectly relaxed to splash him back. “God I love it here.” he spoke as he floated closer and closer.

“Me too. I want to live near the ocean one day.” You spoke absentmindedly, trying to feel for little shells or rocks as you walked further and further from the shore. He followed you.

You felt him splashing you from behind and you tackled him. The two of you turned into children in the water and it ended with you wrapped around his back like always. His hands on the back of your knees as you held on. You both watched the shore in silence, everyone too focused on whatever they were doing to notice your closeness and you were thankful for it. It made you hold on tighter, trying to get closer and he wrapped your legs around his tummy.

Maybe it was inappropriate, maybe if Claudia had been watching she would have had some words for him, or you, or both of you - but it didn’t stop you.

“Let’s just stay out here Spills. Let’s stay in the water forever.” He stroked the skin of your shins under the water and it was so hard not to cry right then and there. “Just you and me, living in the water.” He laughed but it came out sad.

“I’m game.” You rested your chin on his shoulder briefly and he bumped your head with his. This one little moment made the whole day worth it, and when he pulled away as you knew he would, your heart broke just a little bit more.

You were both wrong in your assumptions however. The moment you had thought was private, that you thought you’d stolen without anyone knowing had been seen and catalogued by someone on the shore. Pope had seen the whole thing, and he had some words for Francis.

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

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[sooniesspot]

Coming Down | myg

Okay, so here's the second installment of my BADLANDS Series. This is loosely based around Coming Down by Halsey. I realise I haven't really done them in a specific order, just the one I am pulled to next to write.

Warnings: Dom!Yoongi, Sub!Reader, mentions of slight work stress and societal pressures of being a woman, you know. All that good stuff.

Reader is a F E M I N I S T and proudly so. Loose mention of not wanting kids (which is fine btw) this is just a whole load of smut, not much fluff as it's FWB but.

Okay so, oral, f & m receiving, face fucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, rough sex, light spanking, choking (for like a milisecond) use of ties, slight sensory deprivation, slight body worship, overstimulation. Slight name-calling?? Yoongs says kitten ironically. Use of safe word/safe signal. Yoongles has a Sir Kink. (I can only apologise) Reader has a hand kink (obvs) just wants to get off and relieve stress, Yoongi is happy to be their relief.

word count: 9.8k 👀🐸☕ don't @ me

'I found God, I found him in a lover'

It was a normal Thursday evening, you'd finished work at 6pm on the dot and took the bus home. Fishing for your keys as you approached the front door of your apartment. Key in the lock, turn. Open. Silence. Walking into your hallway, slippers not quite on the rack by the front door as you rushed out of them into your heels this morning. Just where you left them. Sliding off your heels with a sigh as you trudged into your slippers, immediately comforted by the soft memory foam that supported your tiresome toes. Returning your heels to the rack. Shrugging off your bag and long coat, reaching nearly 2 feet above you on your tiptoes to hang your bag and coat on the coat rack. Muttering to yourself like you did every day. 'Coat and bag, then heels. Won't have to stretch so much.' Venturing into the living room. Magazine on the coffee table infront of the sofa where you had left it last night.

Empty. Not that you expected anyone to be home. No one making you dinner you didn't want, or taking up the whole sofa, or hogging the remote. You lived alone, and you liked it. Sure, for a pretty young girl in her mid twenties you often had looks and questions.

'When are you going to find the one?'

'When will you settle down and have a family?'

And truth be told, you didn't want to settle down. You had told your mother from a young age that you didn't want children, whether that would change over time or not you weren't sure. It hadn't changed. You still wanted your independence and that was okay. Women were not put on this earth just to bear children and you were the firmest believer in that. You liked your life just the way it was. A job you loved that you worked hard for, an apartment you were proud of and nearly every night you got to sleep in your own bed, alone, no one to whine at when they snored or your body being used as a warmer for their cold feet. The few nights you were away from your bed came from your once in a while rendezvous with an acquaintance of yours. Although you knew eachother more than mere acquaintances should.

You met at a bar some time ago. Lights flashed, sure to give you a migraine and music so loud your eardrums could burst at any given moment. You were dragged out to this stingy bar by your bestfriend in her attempt to finally get noticed by that one guy. Even in her twenties she was still as smitten as when you were both back at school. You wore a simple black dress with a low cut front, skirt just above the knee and plain black heels. Hair not much different to your everyday, maybe a few waves here and there and some more mascara than your normal work volume. Trying your best to blend in but still having the ornate ability to have eyes on you in any setting.

You spent a lot of time on the dance floor until your friend had found her prey and you circled around the bar. Much rather wanting to stay at home with a tub of ice cream and your cat watching some terrible reality show about Cabin Crew on a cruise ship. Shouting at the TV to throw the nasty woman overboard; waving your spoon at the screen as your cat looked on in understanding almost. But here you were, slumped against a sticky varnished oak bar, propped up on an old velvet stool, twisting your straw in your glass, nonchalantly spinning the steadily melting ice as you listened to your friend talking to her guy. Suddenly feeling a hot hand against your lower back and someone lean over the bar between you and your otherwise occupied friend. Looking up at a pale man to your left.

" Whiskey on the rocks. " came his order to the bar tender; sharp, leaving no room for anything blasé.

Catching his eye, he looked you over once with a subtle bite of his lip and the flick of his tongue at the seam of his mouth; eyebrow raised with a lingering smirk before he vanished into the sea of people again with his drink.

Dumbfounded, you sat there, staring at the now empty spot where he had been mere seconds ago, the now cool expanse of your lower back where his large hand once was, fizzing. Swinging round on your stool, propping your elbow on the bar behind you, your eyes scanned the room. It wasn't the biggest bar. It wouldn't take long to find him.

Soon you caught eyes with him across the dance floor, stood with his taller, tanned friends as he held the whiskey glass firm in his hand; talking amongst themselves. Dark Brown, almost black hair feathered across his forehead, just above his twinkling chocolate eyes. Thin upper lip pressing to his plumper bottom lip before perfect white teeth graced your vision in an endearing gummy smile. Eyes still not catching you between the bodies of people dancing. Several silver hoop earrings in each ear. He wore a long black sweatshirt, black ripped jeans and boots. A couple of silver rings adorned his strong fingers.

You took a sip of your drink, gaze intermittently fluttering in his direction as you scanned the room, your friend had left to go and dance. Eyes found her and you nodded, knowing she was fine. As your stare focused back on the man before you he finally looked up, catching your eye with his, dark and mysterious. His lips pulling into a smirk again as he gazed at you. Heat bubbling in your chest from his wandering eyes on your body through the gap in people on the dance floor. He eventually made his way over to you and whispered a few words into your ear. Cool and calm.

" Come back to my hotel. "

And so you did. One slightly drunk, intense one night stand later and here you were, 6 months down the line sleeping with eachother whenever he was in town. A classic Friends With Benefits situation, although you weren't really friends.

You walked into your kitchen, greeting your ginger tabby cat with a kiss as she meowed at you in greeting. Grabbing yourself a glass for water and pouring kibble into her bowl on the floor, your routine monotonous but you didn't mind. Your cat tucking into her dinner as you filled up your glass, taking a sip. Looking at delivery menus on your fridge under old magnets from previous travels, deciding on Chinese; plucking the menu from the fridge, you had a training day for other colleagues at work tomorrow which meant a day off for you. No needing to cook dinner and get an early night tonight. Placing your glass and the menu on the coffee table in the living room, you switched on the tv, chucking any random show on then bumbling along to your room, opening the door. Greeted by quiet and serenity. No dirty pants on the floor or unmade bed. You smiled with contentment, unzipping your dress to pool at your feet before tossing it into your wash basket. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your most dependable black bra and panty set glaring back at you as you fixed your hair into a ponytail and wiped off your makeup. Throwing on a sweatshirt and some leggings. A short while later you plopped yourself down on the sofa and switched on the tv, greeting your cat with a scratch under her chin as she sauntered into the room, hopping up on the sofa with you.

Zoning out to the world around you as a terrible drama played on in the background as you glanced over the menu, not really paying attention to anything in particular. You had been a little stressed over the past couple of weeks, mounting pressures of a new senior in your department threatening to change everything you had sculpted into a balanced working environment over the last 3 years. Societal pressures and backhanded compliments from your mother's 'garden party' friends concerning whether or not you were defective in choosing a man. Or having one choose you. But in reality, the truth is, you had a stable relationship previously, unfortunately he was a dick and you're not stupid. So the single life had been your rather quiet reality for the last 18 months. No one to answer to or to worry about. Just you and your cat.

Your mothers friends never seemed to understand that, always too engrossed in whether or not you had a man on top of you every night to see that their husbands had found other, much younger women to be on top of. All of this filtering through the crack in your hardened shell, filling your mind with alternate realities until you got a text coming through. Cutting through all the fuzz that piqued in your brain. Picking up your phone, you saw who it was. Him.

'I'm in town, come over?' 

Your reply was short and sweet.

'Sure, be over in 20.'

Snapping out of your previous thoughts and placing the menu back on the coffee table you sat and pondered for a minute. This was fine. This was what you needed. To let off some steam, in a judgement free setting. No cold glances your way, or harsh words uttered, unless it was you being tied to the headboard again like you had been convinced to try last time with his unadulterated gaze looking down at you writhing underneath him. The thought alone had your hair standing on end and a shiver running through you as you stood from the sofa, heading to your room.

Sifting through your wardrobe to pull on some old trainers, checking yourself in the mirror not really knowing why. In your hallway you made sure the lights in the apartment were off and your cat was happy, tucked up in the corner of the sofa snoozing away. Making sure you had your keys and phone in your bag, you left, key in the lock, turn. Locked. Walking down the hallway and down to the ground floor, heading out of the building to head right. The hotel he always stayed at was only a block or so away so the walk was relatively short. The sun was setting now as it hid behind the skyscrapers that canopied the city. Passers by making their way home or even to work. Still lots of cars on the road and bicycles that weaved in and out of traffic. The breeze was light and cherry blossoms danced in the air, separating from a tree as you passed a nearby park. The air was cool, as it would be in early May. Not too hot. Reminded of your journey, that first night.

'When his hair falls in his face and his hands so cold they shake'

You had left swiftly after his original proposition, making up some story about your cat or an early work meeting or something. Anything to get you out of there and with him. His hand returned to the small of your back as you left the bar, being ushered into an awaiting taxi outside. Shuffling all the way over to the other side, he slid in next to you blurting out the address to the hotel at the driver. Hair falling in his face. Eyes wild as they sparkled from the reflection of the dim streetlights. Smirking at you as the same powerful hand you had grown accustomed to on your back, made a home on your knee, slightly tucked under the skirt of your dress. It was now cold to the touch. Strong and intimidating as the taxi started to drive away. Not being able to take his eyes off you he leant forward and whispered in your ear.

" You look so delicious. " His voice low that reverberated through you, straight to your core as he squeezed your knee. Uttering the last syllable with a kitten lock to the shell of your ear.

To this you bit your lip and shifted uncomfortably in your seat. His hand, in turn sliding further up under your dress to the wider expanse of your thigh. The material of your dress pressing his hand taught against your skin.

He swooped down to your ear again, pressing an open mouthed kiss under your ear before he whispered " can't wait to taste you. "

You keened away from his grasp to no avail. He knew what he was doing to you, breath shallow and flighty in your chest as his teeth tugged at your earlobe.

"Please " You breathed, the first word you uttered to him.

Not really sure what you were pleading him for but the fire in your chest and the dampness of your panties flourished an urgency within you that was incorrigible. He smirked again at this, eyes dancing like Fireflies in the night. The hand that was to his side while the other hid between your thighs came up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards him.

"Soon. " He chuckled before biting your lip.

Drawn back to reality, passing people and cars. Your trainers pulling you towards your destination as your head had an argument with your feet. Was this a good idea? You didn't want to get yourself into a situation where either of you caught feelings. You were a pro at being a cold hearted bitch now but the odd sincere glance your way, especially from him seemed to melt your resolve, even just a little. Recounting the previous times you had taken this walk and what it would lead to.

After your first night with him, it was like a drug. You always wanted more. To say he was good in the bedroom was a complete cop out. He was...He was something. Made you feel things you'd never felt before and noises you'd never in your wildest dreams imagine yourself making. At decibels only a dog could hear. So once the addiction started, you started seeing one another everytime he was in town. Sometimes a couple of times in a week. That went on for a solid 4 months and as work pressures mounted, you fell distant. Always busy catching up with work or having some alone time with your thoughts and your cat. He also got busy, having to travel more for work. You didn't really know much about except it was important and you felt based on the guitar he always packed with him, propped up against the wall in the corner of the room, it was something to do with music.

'I found a devil, I found him in a lover'

The last time you had seen eachother had been a little over 2 weeks ago. That night you'd stayed, which didn't come easily. You were adamant you would leave as soon as you'd cleaned up, even telling him so as he helped you wash in the bathroom, almost requesting a second round when he looked at you through the mirror with those sparkling brown eyes like the devil, but you had been so wound up and pushed to your limits that you felt sleep take you as soon as your body hit the mattress again. Memories of restraints, dark water colours that created the murky palette of his hotel room and the low thumping of your heart, even as you entered the apartment, seeing him there, a tie in hand and a coy smirk. That night he had called you. He never called.

" You busy? " He sounded gruff like he'd just finished working out - which you knew not to be the case.

"When am I ever busy? " You rebuttled with a laugh.

He joined you, then you could hear him grin down the phone. A different sort of grin. A devious one.

"I wanted to try something. "

There was quiet, you wished him to continue silently.

"Something I can't stop thinking about doing to you. " He whispered lowly.

Your ears on fire and furiously red in the face you hung up. Chucking a quick 'omw' text to him in return. That night had been the best sex you'd ever had. That's why you'd stayed. For fear of walking into oncoming traffic at 2am because of your disorientated state.

Your heart skipped a beat at the anticipation of what was to come once you knocked on the door and it sent a thrill through you. Rounding the corner you were met with a bleak grey concrete block of apartments that made up the hotel with a black sign. Crossing the street after looking both ways you jogged up the steps as you saw the door beginning to close after a couple just exited. Sliding in you headed straight for the elevator.

He always had the same hotel room which avoided any confusion. You ran to the elevator that had just opened and pressed the 7th floor. Alone again your mind wandered to your first night here, in this lift.

You'd both stumbled out of the taxi and shuffled over to the lift, he pressed the elevator button furiously as he got impatient; leaning against eachother. As soon as the lift doors were closed he pressed you against the wall, face millimetres from yours as his nose skimmed over yours. Both of your breathing, laboured and slow. His large hands roamed your body; your waist, up and down your thighs. Gripping at the flesh as if he owned it. You wanted him to. God you wanted him to own all of you in that moment. Gaze intense and unwavering as the mysterious glint in his eye grew. His hands slid around the curve of your ass which made you stutter, giving it a harsh squeeze that made you lose your breath.

"I'm gonna ruin you." He whispered devilishly in your ear as he bit the shell.

Pulled out of your reverie as the elevator doors dinged open, signalling you had reached your floor, face burning as you stepped out of the lift, cold fingers pressed to your cheeks to try and cool them. Preparing yourself for what man would greet you at the door. You never knew which one you would get. Sometimes he was ravenous and you never made it to the bed, lipstick smeared and tights ripped as he never had time to waste when he felt such a desperate need for you. Or you would get the cool calm and collected man that caught your eye that night all those months ago. That was, until he got you here. Alone with him.

Walking down the corridor to his room now, counting the doors as they seemed to go on for miles, dark in wood with numbers etched in gold with golden handles. Your breath starting to slip away from you as you imagined as soon as you opened that door you wouldn't be able to breathe steadily again for a while. Room 93. (Shoutout to Halsey's first EP) There it was. You slowed to a stop, almost nervous to knock. 'Just knock' You muttered to yourself. Rolling your eyes as you fidgeted on the spot, sighing as you raised your hand to knock on the door. Knock. Wait. Silence.

You were waiting for a little while which was unlike any other time. Checking your watch and the door number. You waited a little longer and you were just about to walk away when the door opened slowly. You turned; met with the same dancing brown eyes you caught in yours all those months ago, although slightly sunken, maybe he hadn't been sleeping well? His lean frame propped up against the door. Arms folded over his broader chest. Hair fluffed over his forehead, slightly damp. Pale skin flawless and glowing against the dark background of his hotel room and the darkness of his simple black tee and sweatpants. Silver hoops still adorned his ears and rings still glistened on his beautiful hands. Eyes unwavering as they honed in on you. Smirk playing on his thin lips.

"You're early." He mumbled all knowingly, looking at the rings that adorned his knuckles, as if he were about to connect them with a wall.

You stuttered, heart in your mouth as you gawked at the man. Feeling like a naughty school girl that was about to get a ruler spanked across her a-. You stopped the thought for fear of collapsing in the hallway. His eyes still on you, looking you up and down. You mentally slapped yourself for your attire. Sweatshirt and leggings. Not sexy in the slightest. Anyway. Why did you care? Not like you wanted to impress him, right? After another beat his strong arm pulled you in the room by the collar of your sweatshirt, closing the door swiftly behind you and pinning you up against it.

"Just means I have more time." He whispered against your lips.

Sweeping strands of hair out of your face delicately, tucking his fingers behind your ears. He smiled at you, his gummy smile. You never thought that smile would be directed at you. Let alone in this setting.

'With his lips like tangerines, and his colour-coded speak'

His lips moulded to yours with a sudden urgency. Teeth and tongue caressing your lips with power and want. Heavy breaths exchanged as you dropped your bag; hands trying to find purchase somewhere sturdy and stable. Deciding upon the strength of his arms. Eyes closing as you were swept away in the moment of teeth and tongue and pent up tension and wanton need for eachother. His fingers pulling out your hairband so your hair pooled around your face. His fingers lacing through the soft locks as he grinned against your lips. Always having an ornate infatuation with how silky your hair was. How good it felt wrapped around his fist as he fucked you into the mattress. How it spread out behind you like waves across the crisp white bedsheets, framing your face perfectly as you slept.

He missed this. Maybe he missed you. Jolted back from his sweet thoughts, hearing you start to mumble against his lips as he continued to pin you up against the door, your head firmly in his hands.

"Yoongi." You murmured again, slurring the word slightly; drunk off the potent lust he cradled you with.

He never let up from your lips, intent on breathing you in. Hands untangling themselves from your hair as his cool calm hands landed on your shoulders, moving you away from the door to pin you to a wall, nearer to the bed. An eventual destination set in his mind. He couldn't get enough of you. Your hands travelled to cup his cheeks. His lips dry against yours gaining moisture from the saliva rolling around in your mouths as your tongues fought. Small whimpers beginning to swim their way into the air. Music to his ears. Of all the music he'd ever had a hand in creating, he wished he could emulate your tiny whimpers. Your cries for more of him. All of him. Wanting to devour him whole.

"Fuck" He exclaimed, finally pulling away from you, heavy breathing as his forehead was against yours.

Not even giving you time to breath he reached for the hem of your sweatshirt, pulling it over your head to reveal your gorgeous body to his hungry eyes. Knowing now that hiding from his gaze would be futile. An attempt at covering up would leave your ass raw and marks all over every single inch of your body. God's above. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, to him you practically were. He never sought out for any other attention or company from other women. The taste of you as often as he could have you was more than enough to satiate his heart.

He made quick work of your bra before throwing his own shirt off onto the growing pile on the floor. His hands, rough against your soft, plush breasts as his thumbs circled around your pebbling nipples. His teeth latching onto your bottom lip, humming as he looked into your steadily closing eyes. Teeth venturing south along your jaw to your neck and collarbone as he began to grab at the skin of your waist after he finished moulding your breasts; as if trying to memorise the feeling of them in his hands. The weighted comfort he had grown to adore about your chest. Teeth sinking in, enticing low gasps and the tiniest of squeaks as he would bite too hard on already sensitive flesh, intent on getting every inch of your skin covered in small indentations from his teeth. Tongue lascivious against the contours of your neck and collarbones, sickly sweet taste of your skin that drove him wild.

'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'

All you could do was pant and mule against him, your hands in his steadily drying locks. Suddenly pulling away as he untied the drawstring of his pants.

"Knees, now." He whispered authoritively and you happily obeyed.

Flicking your hair off your shoulder you sank down onto your knees. Eyes ignited with a fire he practically stoked out of you. You admired his body on the journey down. Body lithe and pale, defined arms and chest with a flat stomach, no six pack or defined v lines that led to the promising tent that you saw in your line of sight. Just a small happy trail of hair from below his belly button sneaking into the hem of his sweatpants. Swiftly taking them down and off you were greeted with black boxers, looking tight around his cock cased within. You licked your lips in anticipation as his fingers forked through the hair on your scalp. Looking up to his face as he gazed down at you with a stern look in his own eyes; burning into your already flushed skin.

"Someone looks like they've missed this." He smirked as your hand rose to palm him through his boxers.

He released a low hum at the feeling of your hand cupping his balls. You knew that he was very sensitive there, from past experiences.

"Does the slut want my cock?" He asked, a feather of a chuckle rumbled in his chest at your immediate nod as you ran your tongue over the seem of your lips.

Your fingers delved underneath the fabric as you began to pull them down. Sudden slap to your hands had you shying away from him.

"Hungry sluts have to wait don't they, kitten?" His eyes zeroing in on your reaction to the pet name.

You gritted your teeth in vague annoyance at the name, after the first night, you told him you had to be home for your cat. Finding it oddly adorable you were a cat lady he called you kitten ironically, now it's stuck. Your eyes looking away from him, turning your head slightly towards the large window that showed the rest of the city. Twinkling lights now shining in the moonlight. His hand gripped your chin, pulling your attention back to him, forcing you to look up into his devious eyes.

"I don't think you answered me, slut." He snarled; releasing your chin from his grasp.

Your heart jumped in your chest.  "Y-yes, sir."

He smirked again, feeling triumphant he patted your head, thumb smoothing over your hair line with ghost like touches before running it along the seem of your mouth, popping his thumb in, flat against your tongue. Closing your lips around him, beginning to suck, big eyes gazing up at him.

"Good girl." He whispered before removing his thumb from your mouth and yanking his boxers down and stepping out of them.

His fingers danced through his damp hair as his cock sprung up against his stomach, a muted groan as the cool air touched his reddened and straining cock. Your eyes widened, never getting used to the sight of his cock, inches away from your salivating mouth, making your panties pool with a carnal need for him to be inside you. Your hands began to rub up and down your jeans clad thighs, waiting with baited breath for him to give you the command. This man and the things you'd do for him would have others question if you were a feminist or not. How a strong single woman with a steady career and bustling social life could want to be so utterly defiled by a man and be at his every whim really flipped your ideology on its head. But a drug was a drug, and you were high on him like cocaine.

"Alright, stop giving me those bedroom eyes." He gushed, dominating voice faltering as he gazed down at you, waiting and ready for him to let you begin.

You fluttered your eyelashes at him, big and bold. Biting your lip as your hands rubbed along your thighs again.

"Fuck, just get over here." He laughed, holding the base of his cock in his hand as your hands slunk up his sturdy pale thighs.

Fingertips sending sparks through his body. Your lips reaching his tip, you looked up at him again as you kitten licked his bulbous tip, testing it. Like testing a car. He hissed to which you smirked. You took your tongue to lick the underside of his cock lightly, teasing his frenulum before swirling your tongue round his tip several times. He puffed out a harsh breath but never said a word, fingers beginning to weave into your hair with a softness you were unfamiliar with. Surrounding the tip with your lips as you slowly sunk the head into your waiting mouth. Giving kitten links to the underside again as you sucked on his tip for a moment. Yoongis breath was heavy, you could tell by his chest moving, half lidded eyes looking down at you as you took more of him in slowly. Tongue still licking everywhere you could. Your other hand still positioned on his thigh as you rubbed small circles in it with your thumb.

Starting to take him deeper in your mouth and pulling him back out for breath had him seeing double. His vision was blurred as he could feel your heavenly lips wrap around his strained cock, precum and spit starting to pool at the corners of your mouth; threatening to spill as you bobbed your head back and forth on his dick. Setting up a rhythm you plunged him in deep so your nose touched his abdomen and he threw his head back with a grunt; gritting his teeth.

"Uh, fuck. Your mouth is so good" He whispered into the air.

'I've got a lover and I'm unforgiven, I'm such a fool to pay this price'

Your mouth worked on him as well as it could. You would take a lot of him in and proceed to gag which made him grunt. As your hand began to work at the base of his shaft. Giving him your all. Making up for lost time.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last." He hissed. His hands in spearing through your hair as his thumbs rubbed at your scalp.

"I should've kept my hands to myself... Always impatient." He chuckled menacingly to himself; shaking his head.

Your breath was heaving as you pulled back from him. Hands gripping his thighs tight as you looked up at the man towering above you.

"What do you say, will you let me fuck your mouth like a good pet?"  He asked, hands still in your hair.

"Make me cum, then it's your turn? How about it, kitten?"

No hesitation in your eyes as you gazed up at him as if he had hand painted all of the stars in the sky. You nodded profusely and he grinned at you; swiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

"Good girl, remember your safe signal?"  He asked, almost sweet in his tone.

You tapped the back of his thigh 3 times with your finger and he nodded. Feathering his fingers through your hair again, your hand still at the base of his dick lining him up to your waiting mouth. You gave him the go ahead as he thrusted shallowly into your mouth at first. Finally in your mouth his hands speared through your hair behind your ears to hold you still as he began to move his hips back and forth. You had done this before. Let him do this. But this time was so raw and so needy you honestly couldn't fathom how much you needed this. And it wasn't even your turn. He began to set up a rhythm working his length deeper with every thrust; starting to make you gag as you tried your best to relax. He breathed in sharply, his head thrown back as he pumped in and out. His shaft gliding smoothly across your tongue and beginning to slip down your throat as you sputtered around him. Hands firmly gripping the back of his thighs, the same way he was gripping your hair.

"Fuck, fuck. Your mouth. Kills me." He mumbled to himself; thinking you couldn't hear.

You looked up at him, a picture of bliss. Arms locked in place, keeping you still as he slid in and out of your mouth, picking up speed now. The veins in his neck; protruding under a velvet blanket of Frosted skin. Teeth gritted and brows furrowed. He looked down to see you already watching him. To this he groaned deep within his chest at the sight of you so willing and ready for him. Setting his nerves alight he could feel his orgasm approaching. Gripping your hair even tighter as he gave you a moment to breath before jackhammering into your mouth with a low whine.

"Fuck. Holy shit." He whispered before you felt his cock twitch deep in your throat and thick ropes of cum travel down it as he came; hips jerking at weird angles as you noticed sweat beading across his neck and collarbones; reaching up to his hairline.

After he had composed himself he pulled out of your mouth and you swallowed everything still left in your mouth before opening your mouth to show it was empty. He ran a solid hand through his own hair before he pulled you to your feet; planting a heavy kiss to your lips as he walked you back towards the bed. Practically pushing you back on it with a soft bounce. He suddenly rounded to the other side of the hotel room rummaging through a suitcase. Soon returning with several black ties in hand. Giving you a knowing smirk. You felt your stomach sink at the memory of your last adventure with this man. In this hotel room. With those ties. But judging by the look on his face and the fact his previously lifeless cock had begun to spring to life again; you knew it was different.

'I found a martyr, he told me that I'd never'

He began to move you up the bed to where he saw fit. Nodding when he had got you where he wanted. Straddling your waist he grabbed an arm tying the tie around your wrist to then loop it around the headboard. He soon did the same to the other one. Then finally you saw him gazing down at you from above before he slipped a soft silk tie over your eyes fastening it behind your head. Everything went black, but you could hear him; feel him. All around you. Feeling weight either side of your head you suddenly felt breath over your nipple; squirming at the sensation and your clothed pussy clenching around nothing. You felt him kitten lock his way along your breast before landing an unexpected bite against your neck, causing you to pull against the restraints with a sharp intake of breath.

"Remember your safe word, kitten?" He whispered in your ear.

You nodded. "Seesaw."

He sat back on his heels; still straddling you. Crossing his arms with a nod.

"Why is it Seesaw, again?" You ask, a grin sliding onto your face.

He chuckled at this before you felt weight lifted from the bed. You skin crawling with goosebumps as you waited with anticipation. Suddenly feeling deft fingers pulling your leggings and panties down in one swift movement. A beat of silence. Feeling like forever until you felt the same fingers, calloused but oh so soft against the skin of your collarbone.

"You don't remember?" He whispered into the darkness.

You shook your head no as your body began to squirm. Feeling his finger trail delicately down to your chest, followed by his other pointer finger on his left. Circling your nipples in precise motions. You sucked in a breath and your back arched as you felt him blow cool air onto the perking bud.

"Oh kitten, it was the bar where we first met" You could hear the smirk evident in his voice as his fingers trailed underneath the curve of your breasts.

"The night I took you home and ate you so good you nearly passed out." A dry chuckle left his lips at the gasp that left your own.

He began to drag his sturdy fingers slowly; tantalisingly, in soft motions towards your belly button where he would branch out with delicate touch; placing more fingers on your skin as they circled your hipbones. Finally sloping down to your thighs where his grip became firm and he pryed your legs apart to expose you to him. Heat flashing across your face as you whimpered at the action. Oh god. The things he made you feel. You felt electricity surge through your body, bouncing off your bones as you heard him hum.

"Mmmm. So wet, just from sucking my cock, kitten?"

You bit your lip with a whine; nodding profusely. Blush creeping across your cheeks. He seemed to like this as you heard a deep rumbled in his chest in approval. You could feel the bed dip slightly due to transferred weight. Right between your legs. Shit. If only you could see him. What was he doing? Was he pleased? Oh fuck, you didn't shave your le- your thoughts were far removed as you felt lips across the inside of your thigh; just above your knee.

"Shit, I can't wait to taste you." He whispered; sending cool air rushing up to your core.

Feeling his lips drag effortlessly along your thigh to where you wanted him most; needed him. He was tender; savouring the moment. He had missed this, giving you what you wanted. Watching you underneath him. Tasting you; devouring you. That's why he was so quick to cum the first time around. Too excited by the thought of having you again he had started to touch himself in the shower. Thinking of your soft, sweet body; Bending to his every whim. Your mouth stuffed full of his cock. Your enticing wet pussy that always made you blush at the sounds it would make, as he would fuck you. Hard and rough. He groaned at the thought before his face was level with your heat. Soft breaths that made your body wriggle; desperate to escape and want more; all at once. He hooked your knees over his elbows as he held your legs down. blowing against your exposed clit and watching your pussy clench around nothing; glistening with your essence he hungered for.

'With his educated eyes, and his head between my thighs'

"Mmmm. Sweet pussy baby girl." He kissed the apex of your thigh watching you writhe against the restraints. He hadn't even started yet. You were in for a long night.

You didn't seem to notice the name at first. It wasn't what he had called you any of the times before. But as the air thinned out around you; feeling the silence weighted around the room like a thick curtain and nothing was corrected, it almost felt affectionate; coming from his sinful lips that had just attached themselves to your-

"Fuck." Your breath caught as you threw your head back against the mattress.

Feeling lips suckling against your clit with vigor. He knew what you liked and knew how to get you where he wanted you. His tongue began lapping at your clit as his lips sucked where they could. Your breathing was heavy and you tried to pull against the restraints; your legs restless as the odd whimper left parted lips. His eyes although you couldn't see him, were focused on you. Watching every bite of your lip, every salacious moan or whimper; every gasp. You began rocking your hips in a rhythm against his tongue and he moaned at the pressure you posed against him. Trying to feel some friction as his throbbing cock had sprung to life from your first whimper; sandwiched between his abdomen and the mattress.

"God, this pussy is so good." He moaned; muffled by your legs trying so hard to clamp around his head as he continued his ministrations.

Soon enough you could feel the familiar rope spread throughout your body, begin to coil; tight as a spring before you felt a nip to your clit and you unravelled underneath him. Feeling weightless and weighted all at once. Stars beneath the blanket of the silk tie; delicate against your eyes. Head thrashing around as arms pulled with all their might against the restraints. Your back arched as you moaned loudly; legs starting to shake at the force of your orgasm. But that wasn't the end.  He flicked his tongue against your swollen clit with more intent. Determined to push you through another orgasm before he even started using his fingers. God his fingers. Your lower body began to lift off the bed as his grip on your legs only got tighter.

"Fuck, fuck Yoongi. Oh my fucking g-"

You heard an animalistic growl as you felt another nip to your clit; yelping at the sudden spark of pain amongst your pleasure.

"Sir. Stick to the rules." He punctuated with a slap to your clit. Back arching for a moment as you felt a pulse throughout your body.

"Or I'll keep biting." He mumbled the last part.

You pouted. "Yes sir." You could feel your orgasm beginning to ebb away as he took longer to return to your clit.

You whined and you felt breath on your clit again as he chuckled. Although your predicament was purely casual. Wanting to get off essentially was your main goal. Neither of you ever rushed. Enjoying one another's company. Feeling his slick, swift tongue dancing along your clit again you moaned; trying so hard to keep quiet out of respect for neighbours as you tried resting your mouth against your arm to muffle your high pitched moans. His tongue retracted until you felt the tip of his tongue tease the edge of your entrance before dipping his tonulgue in for a moment. Your hips bolted you forward at the intrusion before settling back down on the bed. His tongue running up and down from your entrance to your clit in long strokes. Quickly settling his tongue back against your throbbing clit. You yelped as he applied more pressure.

"Fuck, I love this cunt."

Slurping noises ensued as he dove in deeper. You orgasm building again and again, holding on for dear life. Holding onto your sanity. His tongue swirling around the pulsing bud as you continued your previous rhythm rocking against his face. Your knuckles were turning white at the sheer grip you had on the ties; feeling yourself drift away.

"Fuck, please, yoo-"

He pressed his face even further into your heat as you cried out in pleasure. Tongue flicking mercilessly over your engorged clit. Reaching the summit again to fall all the way down into the abyss. He never let up from you as his tongue lapped at your juices spilling from your entrance. Nerves alight and pulsing throughout your body. A thin layer of sweat was evident against your face, collarbones; the whole of your body. Sweat beaded from his own forehead and he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth as he watched you regain your breath. Stilted in the silence. Only your chest rising and falling as your lungs gasped for air.

He loosened his right arms hold around your leg and brought his fingers forward to your sensitive pussy. Humming to himself as he gathered the Juices on the tip of his fingers and spreading it all over your pussy as it glistened in the dim hotel light. Knowing how much you lost your collective shit over his hands he couldn't help but watch his hands tip toe up to your breast; squeezing the flesh roughly in his hand before slinking it over to massage your neck for a second. Only to grab it a moment later. Your breath caught quite literally as you could feel the bed move from where he was sitting up. He could feel the pressure against your soft skin and the way your breath constricted; only for a moment as he loosened his grip. His fingers still flush against the skin. His veined hand looked like it belonged around your neck. He thought to himself before sliding his thumb into your mouth again; which you accepted with enthusiasm.

'I found a saviour, I don't think he remembers'

"One more from you, kitten. Then I'll fuck you. Okay?" He hummed.

Your reply was noncommittal as you nodded vehemently; still sucking on his thumb. He looked down at you with a certain adoration. Laying there, naked for him. Tied up and blindfolded. If he'd have thought this would be the case after that first night, he would have laughed. But here you both were.

His fingers began to trace the outline of your entrance; whisper like touches that made you clench around nothing. He began experimentally pushing his long slender middle finger inside you a little; chuckling lowly as you let out a whine. Your pussy trying to suck him in further. Wanting to feel him. All of him.

"Sir. Please." You murmured, legs that were now free from his grasp allowing you to rotate your hips.

He wanted to tease. God. He wanted to tease you until the sun came up. But he was desperate and so were you. He removed his finger earning a cry from you. Until he slid in two fingers to your shock and set a brutal pace. Feeling those godly fingers of his curl into you. Moulding you perfectly to him. Tapping against that sweet spot inside. He used his other hand to press your hips to the bed; preventing movement as you felt a touch of sensitivity kicking in. But you put it to the back of your mind; focussing on the way his fingers were drilling into you at an inhuman pace now.

Your senses heightened due to his silk tie that blocked your view. Oh how you wished you could watch his fingers sliding in and out of you like you had done countless times before. Acquiring quite the affinity with the mans hands. Pale, veiny; strong in their ability to hold you but soft when he caressed your cheek, wiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth or the pad of his thumb sweeping away tears from overstimulation. God you loved them.

"Fuck. I'm so close." You cried out, to someone. Anyone who could hear you as he continued his ministrations.

"Yeah? The slut loves my fingers doesn't she?" Yoongi spat; his voice laced with venom.

"Loves my fingers fucking her, huh?"

All you could do was mewl as you could feel your body going into overdrive. Your head slamming against the pillow as you could feel yourself near the edge. Just needing one final push.

"But you love it best when my hand's around your throat. Isn't that right? Slut?"

You hadn't felt his hand move. Too lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Until you felt it grip your throat. Not hard. But just enough. Squeezing when he said slut. Sparks flew and your fingers and toes felt as if they were set to a light simmer. Your body going numb at the feeling and your pussy throbbing as you came. A high pitched moan of his name left your bitten lips as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of you. Body moving in time with your spasming cunt as you began to feel the overstimulation kicking in, rearing its ugly head once more. The pain was excruciating as he continued but the pleasure washed over you again as your entrance continued to clench around his fingers. Silence as a moan caught in your throat. This had to be the biggest orgasm you had ever had. Nerves set alight with matches and turning into a forest fire that exploded like gasoline until it set to a simmer when Yoongi slowed his fingers down ever so slightly. Enamoured by your head thrown back and your mouth in the perfect shape of an O. He would've cum right there, just at the sight of you convulsing beneath him.

"Cause he's off to pay his crimes, and he's got no time for mine'

"Fuck, me." He breathed, shaky breaths too.

Quickly flipping you onto your front, your still tied arms now crossed over one another. Propping your legs up so you were on your knees. A sharp smack to your ass sent you reeling into another sobbing mess. Beginning to plead with him. For something; anything.

Soon enough you felt his hands returning to your hips and ass, caressing them carefully. Your ass flinching at the contact of his lips on your lower back, you could hear a slight slapping sound behind you, assuming he had started to touch himself again. You whimpered at the thought of not being able to watch his veiny hand slide up and down his equally veiny cock. Fuck.

His lips still against your skin as he whispered "I nearly came just like that, watching you cum all over my fingers baby."

There it was again. Baby. Nothing more nothing less. There was a pregnant pause before he sighed, beginning to speak again.

"You're so fucking hot" a groan sounded as the pace of his hand quickened against his length. The slapping sound intensified.

You whimpered, beginning to move your ass up and down, wiggling it at him to invite him in.

"Yoongi, just fuck me already." You whined.

A sharp slap sounded against your ass, reverberating through the room. You winced at the pain, taking in a quick breath before a hand returned to your ass kneading it in his palm.

"Slut is so impatient today. I'll fuck you, don't worry." His words were menacing.

'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'

His hand continued to knead at your reddening cheek before pulling it aside with his thumb, showing your dripping, waiting entrance for him. He almost lost it. Almost. Deciding that you had both waited long enough he lined his throbbing condom clad cock up with your entrance and pushed in with great speed. Hissing at the feeling of your tight wet walls surrounding him.

"Oh god." You managed a strangled whimper into the mattress.

Breath caught in your throat as you could feel his dick beginning to move swiftly inside you. His hips slapping against your ass that was sure to bruise tomorrow, your wrists were aching, your body going numb to every other feeling apart from the feeling of him ploughing into you. Your vision was starry eyed and you hated it. But you loved it. Sobs began to rack through your body as he spanked you once again, sending waves of pain and pleasure through you.

His pace continued as all you could do was lie there with your hands tied, begging for anything he was willing to give you. But also feeling the familiar sting of too much. But it was never too much. You willed your body to continue on. To not give up the ghost yet. You prayed for your body to fight on. To take every thrust he battered into your throbbing, weeping pussy.

The coil you had almost forgotten existed now in the plains of numb, vacant ability to even string a sentence together, began to tighten again, expecting a fraying spent body, not one this eager for your umpteenth orgasm this evening. Your pussy clenched as he continued, hollow groans you imagine him with his head back as he thrusted into you, licking his perfect lips with that sinful tongue. God, he made you crazy.

"Yoongiiiiii, fuck I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, please" your tone indescribable as you panted for breath that escaped you with every thrust as his skin continued to slap against yours.

Suddenly feeling him pull out which almost made you weep but being turned back over onto your back, the tie being ripped from off your head. You were greeted by a furiously sweating Yoongi. Sweat dripping from his dark chocolatey hair just above his eyes. His lips swollen pink from where he had probably been biting on them so much, not to mention when he had used the same lips to devour you not 20 minutes prior. His chest was heaving and lips parted as he gazed at you for a moment.

"I'm seeing that gorgeous face when you cum, no way I'm missing that." He stifled a laugh as he lined himself up with your entrance again after wrapping your legs around his torso.

'They run around beneath our feet, we roll around beneath these sheets'

Sliding in once more you rattled your wrists against the silk tie restraints as you cocked your head back in pleasure. You let out a high pitch moan, almost exasperated in tone, your back arching up into him before slumping back on the bed in defeat. Yoongi almost reading your mind whilst still thrusting inside of you began to untie the ties that bound your wrists. You thanked heaven for your saving grace. You could run your hands through his hair now, feel his sweaty skin beneath your fingertips. And soon after your hands were free he laced them in his own. This also being new to you. You knew the drill when having sex with him. He laid down the ground rules early on. No kissing. No cuddling. No hand holding. So what he did next really sent you through a loop.

"Fuck I'm close." He sighed before leaning down to kiss you.

His lips were salty, battered and bruised much like your own but you didn't care, you kissed back with all your might as he continued to thrust away inside you. Feeling his cock hit that sweet spot again you mewled, breaking the kiss with your head thrown back.

"Here kitten?" He asked, smirk evident in his voice.

You whimpered with a nod as he continued to thrust in the right place, hitting your spot so deliciously you couldn't help cry out when his pace turned rampant and he held your hips in his bone crushing hands, sure to bruise tomorrow. The punishing pace was set as his hips bucked into you and you tried to grab at anything you could, finding no sturdy comfort in the crisp white hotel sheets beneath you. Your breathing was erratic, you hadn't realised you'd been sweating until now, although not as much as the man above you. You watched in distracted awe at the sweat running down his broad chest, along his stomach and down to where his cock was pummelling into you.

You could feel it again, serious this time. Your orgasm creeping up on you faster than any bullet. Your legs tingled and your toes curled. Your knees felt like they would break and your arms felt detached from the rest of your body. In the last moments you saw him gazing down at you, exasperated, fucked out beyond belief. But smiling. You reached up at the nape of his neck and pulled him down to you, pressing your lips against his as you succumbed to the pleasure that wreaked havoc throughout your body. A heart wrenching shout came from your lips. In every moment, a glitch of your body as it spasmed with unruly disregard and poor timing. Your pussy clenched repeatedly on his cock while he continued to thrust inside of you.

"Oh fuuuck, I'm coming." He groaned into your neck as he used hard, purposeful thrusts as he came in the condom.

'He's coming down, coming down'

The sweat that accumulated on both your bodies cemented you together for moments after. All pretence and notions suspended as you both caught your breath back. Heaving. Breathing one another in. Soon Yoongi peeled himself off of you and went to remove the condom. You lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Stars still there. You weren't imagining it in the end. Scraping your hair from off your face as you wiped the sweat from your brow. Soon he returned, bouncing onto the bed next to you, looking up at you in adoration almost. A nervous smile present on his lips as if he didn't just drag you to the 7th layer of hell with him. Or was it heaven? You could never be sure.

You looked over at him with heavy lids, inquisitive look on your face as he swept hair from your shoulder. Looking down at you with that same smile. Before -

"You fancy going on a date, some time?"

© sunnysidejoon - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

NOW Mr Min is usually not my main man but i can't help it, just, shit okay Min Yoongi.

I realise I'm probably going to hell for this but we joon

Hope you guys enjoyed, working on the next installment as we speak 🤪 if you want to be added to a taglist let me know 🥴

Love Always

Mac 🧡💜

[sp00kyjellybeans]

Constant Pining [Mickey Altieri x reader]

A/N: part two because i think the last one deserves a follow up :> For this one, I decided to play with the fact that Mickey is a film student, so I kind of figured he would use it to his advantage. btw tho this feels super choppy and cheesy in the bad way so idk how to feel ab it:’) pls lmk what you guys think bc i might rewrite it and cut half of this out

Word Count: 3,425

Warnings: None, this is like... super fluffy

---

It had been two weeks since the party and it was driving Mickey insane. He wasn’t sure what was worse. The fact that life carried on as usual or the fact that you were completely unfazed. He would have preferred if you were all over him or, hell, if you were avoiding him.

Because then he would know how you feel.

But he didn’t. The poor guy hadn’t the slightest clue. Life went on nonetheless. Some days he was able to sit next to you in Psychology (if Halley didn’t try kicking him out of her seat) and the two of you were normal during friend settings. But you never showed up to another party.

Mickey gnawed at his pencil. It was whittled down to practically nothing. He was supposed to be focused on a project that he and Randy were assigned in Film Theory but instead... You were on his mind.

“Can you stop eating that pencil and quit thinking about (Y/n)!” Randy threw a small notebook at Mickey’s head. Mickey snapped out of his daze and easily dodged it. “We need to work on this shit together. I don’t need (Y/n) clouding my camera man’s mind.”

“I’m not even-”

“Save it. You’ve been making the same face for two weeks straight now. It’s the (Y/n)-face. Sid and I coined it.”

Mickey muttered a curse word under his breath and reached for the notebook that was thrown at him. It was Randy’s film book. He flipped through some pages. It was filled with notes for class and film-analysis. Half of the analyses weren’t even assigned for class.

“What are we doing for this again?” Mickey rolled his eyes and threw the notebook onto a table. He propped up his feet and leaned back in his chair. 

The two boys were in a conference room of the film school. A chalkboard had been dirtied with Randy’s ideas for their film project while Mickey was mentally vacant for the time being. The project was to make a movie, each group was assigned a different genre. They were content with being partners, seeing as Randy had the ideas and Mickey had a knack for cinematography. 

“We were assigned to do a documentary.”

“Fucking lame... Everyone else got cool shit. I heard Terry Pusher was assigned fantasy... Fucking fantasy.”

“I know, hell I’d take a love story over this shit,” Randy threw the piece of chalk at the board. 

Mickey paused and sat up. His expression was twisted as if he were onto something. 

“Wait... say that again...”

“I’d take a love story over this shit?” Randy tilted his head.

Mickey stood to his feet and pointed at his geeky friend, an excited expression was evident.

“Exactly.”

The sea of students stormed past you. Your final class of the day ended early so you were more than eager to get back to your dorm. Your roommate was gone for the weekend so hopefully some quiet would get your mind off of Mickey.

The events of the party had been bouncing around the walls of your mind ever since it happened. A part of you thanked Halley for stepping in when she did and a part of you cursed her for it.

You couldn’t fathom dating Mickey. It was unheard of. New. Exhilarating. He was probably one of the hottest guys on campus and he had his hands on your waist.

Sure, he was a total nerd when it came to movies, especially for Tarantino films, and you could listen to his rants for hours, but the thought of him wanting you made your heart skip a beat. If he reciprocated any sort of feelings you’d be sent into cardiac arrest. Did he like you? Was that even possible?

He could have anyone at this school. He knew it, too. But it was possible he could choose you.

Before you were able to expand on that thought, a camera was shoved into your face. 

“And here we have the wonderful, the amazing, the magnificently stunning (Y/n)!” Mickey’s voice imitated a sports announcer. 

His sudden appearance was enough to make your cheeks go ablaze. 

“What are you doing?” You winced and shielded your face.

Randy appeared behind Mickey, “Film project, you’re a part of it!”

“Puh-lease, if anything, they are the star of the film, Meeks!”

You continued to walk to your dorm in hopes of avoiding the nerds but in all honesty, you were smiling like an idiot. 

“What’s it about?” You asked.

Mickey put the camera down for a second and eyed Randy. Luckily, he knew exactly what to say, or rather, what not to say.

“We’re making a documentary. We’re following around a few students, and you’re one of them. Will you watch it when it comes out?”

“Of course,” You grinned. “Just... don’t follow me everywhere with that thing.”

And follow you, they did. 

The very next morning you opened your door to Mickey holding up the blocky piece of tech. He was grinning behind the lens, which forced you to do the same. But you made it a point to shove the camera away. 

This went on for weeks. Mickey would ambush you with his camera everywhere. Meaning that you two were spending more time together. It didn’t matter if you were in the cafeteria or spending the night with your friends. He always managed to film little tidbits of you. 

At first, you would push the camera away or hide your face behind a nearby pillow. 

Then you and Mickey started to hang alone together more often. You found yourself seeking out time with him. Mickey walked you to classes (still filming you with the camera but you didn’t push it away anymore; you just ignored it), he visited you at work and stopped by your dorm frequently. 

Eventually, he had the courage to trap you into a date. 

“Why are you covering my face, Mickey? I know where the cafeteria is...” You groaned, aimlessly walking forward.

“That’s not where we’re eating today.”

“You had no reason to make that sound threatening, Micks... You suck at surprises.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can open your eyes now.”

You opened your eyes to a sprawled out assortment of food on a picnic blanket. 

It was a typical picnic blanket sat under one of the largest trees on campus. It was wide and comfortable. Mickey thought to bring plenty of drinks too. The look on your face filled him with glee as you studied the setting in front of you.

Just last week both of you were talking about your favorite underrated scenes in a romance movie. His answer was the kissing scene in Titanic, but you argued that wasn’t underrated. Your answer was the picnic scene in Armageddon.

Mickey managed to make it come true. If it were sunset, it would have hit the nail on the head.

“Oh my...”

“Do you like it?” Mickey jumped into your line of vision, he looked hopeful. “You said you’ve never been to a picnic before when you mentioned Armageddon and... well that’s just a part of the American dream so I figured- ‘Hey, they shouldn’t miss out on something so fun and peaceful’ so... I made it happen.”

Mickey’s rambling had you smiling wide. Underneath that smooth exterior, he was a nervous wreck around you. 

“Thanks, Micks...”

The food was delicious. You guys talked amongst the meal and the conversation never stopped. Hours passed but you guys continued to laugh and talk. You were having the time of your life. Mickey brought your favorite fruits and snacks, but best of all, animal crackers. You held up the bag excitedly.

“Like from the movie!” You cheered. 

Mickey leaned forward to grab a cracker but you leaned back, smiling mischievously. You loved teasing him.

He furrowed his eyebrows and went to grab again but you leaned back even further. Mickey paused, chuckling, and you thought you won. You reached your hand in to grab a cracker yourself and instead, you felt his body collide into yours. 

You yelped in surprise and fell on your back. The Animal Crackers flew across the blanket and Mickey groaned in defeat. 

“Now look at what you did...” You laughed.

You guys were side-by-side laying on your backs, staring at each other. The blanket was soft. If you weren’t so giddy, you could have fallen asleep right there. Mickey’s body heat enhanced your comfort, the need to lean into him was excessive. 

You giggled at the man, biting the nail on your index finger. Mickey stared back at you, he looked pleased.

“What?”

He shrugged and continued to stare. You faced your head forward to look up at the branches of a tree above you. 

The shade kept you both cool from the sun. Rays of sunshine illuminated your skin, the eccentric shadow of leaves were printed on your face. A breeze flew by, causing your baby hairs to wave in the wind. Mickey couldn’t pull his eyes away.

“Baby-” You said, snapping him out of his trance- “Do you think it’s possible that anyone else in the world is doing this very same thing at this very same moment?”

You slowly turned your eyes back to Mickey, hoping he’d catch on. His toothy grin spread across his cheeks. He thought back to the movie line, hoping to get it right.

“I hope so...” He mumbled but you heard it perfectly. “Otherwise... What the hell are we trying to save?”

His face was an inch away from yours. You could feel his breath hitting your face. It was sweet. It smelled of the strawberries you shared moments before. 

A few strands of his hair hung in front of his eyes, separate from the rest of his slicked-back locks. His large brown eyes were looking at you sincerely. They were inviting you in. Mickey’s lips twitched upward as if he were tempted to make a move. 

But he didn’t.

You wanted to reach toward his face and pull him closer. You wanted to feel his lips meld into yours, allow the moment to overtake you. You wanted to feel his unshaven face press against yours and tickle your cheeks. You wanted to feel his hand wrap around your own. You wanted to feel him, to touch him.

But you didn’t.

Two weeks later Randy and Mickey announced their documentary was done. The finished product was ready to be viewed. You were invited to come to see it.

During those two weeks, you spent time wondering how you could finally make a move. You were sick of this. You wanted this to end and to have a new beginning. You were sure that Mickey had feelings for you. It had to be true. You needed a leap of faith. 

On the other hand, Mickey spent the same amount of time wondering where he was going wrong. Why couldn’t he pluck up the courage to kiss you? Making the first move always worked well for him. Why couldn’t he do it now? More than anything, he hoped that perhaps this documentary will give you an idea of his feelings. It had to. 

So here you were, nervously fiddling with a blocky device in your jacket pocket, avoiding the eyes of Mickey, who sat on a stool in front of Sidney’s TV. She opted that they show their documentary in her and Halley’s room of their sorority house. Surprisingly, they were the only ones with a good enough TV.

Mickey couldn’t pull his eyes off of you. It became a nervous habit. He wanted to know what you were thinking almost 24/7, he was beyond pissed that he wasn’t a telepath.

“Alright alright alright...” Randy strolled up to the screen. “Is everyone here? Does everyone have their snacks and their drinks? You all need to enjoy this to the fullest extent so snacks are a must.”

Everyone glanced at one another, drink and popcorn in hand. You glanced back to see Sidney all over her boyfriend Derek on the couch. You gave a half-grin, wishing that could be you and Mickey. Halley sat on the opposite end of the couch, happily munching on popcorn. 

“Well... without further ado-” Mickey began.

“Wait isn’t this a documentary? This better not be boring as hell...” Halley lifted her hand and we all nodded in agreement.

“Trust me, guys, this is good stuff. Probably our best yet,” Randy reassured us. “I’m going to play it now...”

We fell silent as Randy placed a tape inside of the VHS. He then turned out the lights as the intro began. Randy’s voice came through the TV.

“Love...” Tidbits of students on campus flashed across the screen. “What is love? ...And no, I don’t mean The Haddaway song.”

A few chuckles sounded around the room. Mickey held his glance on you still. 

“Falling in love is one of the most complex things a human can do... The psychology is even more complex. Certain chemicals are released that explain those butterflies in your stomach or why you get sweaty palms around your crush. Well, many scientists believe that humans are wired to fall in love...” Randy’s voice faded along with the screen. 

The sound of talking college students came through and the camera was poised onto Derek in the cafeteria. 

“What do you love about Sid, Derek?” Mickey said through the TV. 

The camera was far too close to Derek’s face, who looked insanely annoyed. 

“Bug off-”

“Just answer the question.”

Derek thought for a moment, then smiled, “Her smile and eyes. I can’t choose one. They just... go hand in hand. They’re gentle, kind, sweet... Like her.”

A chorus of ooh’s and aw’s rang throughout the room and we threw popcorn kernels at Derek. Both he and Sidney were blushing profusely.

The next clip was of Halley walking on the sidewalk. You could hear Mickey again. 

“Ms. Halley, please explain to us what you are doing right now.”

“I am going on a date, which I do not need you two dorks coming with me-” Halley shoved the camera away and the camera didn’t see her again. 

There were a few more scenes like this, the guys asking random couples on campus what they love about one another. 

You were never asked anything while you were filmed, so you were confused, to say that the least. What was your role during this? 

At times, you would lock eyes with Mickey. He looked frazzled but stared at you all the same. 

Randy posed another question to each of the couples, “How long does it take for someone to fall in love?” The screen was black as you heard the answers,

“Weeks-”

“Months, maybe six?”

“Years,” Someone said. 

And you appeared on the TV. 

It was when Mickey first filmed you. There was more than one clip of you, too, each a few seconds long. The first five contained you shying away from the camera but after that, you could see yourself growing more comfortable around him. You were never looking at the lens but always at the cameraman. 

The screen went black once more and another question was asked, “What’s your ideal love story?”

“Something like a Nicholas Sparks book. Tragic... yet romantic.”

“If we hated each other at first, but then we learned to love. The buildup is fantastic.”

“Childhood friends turned to lovers. Something about that constant pining has me reeling...”

You snapped your eyes towards Mickey. You couldn’t read the expression on his face. You looked back at the screen to see yourself once more.

“Micks... come on and watch this movie-” You were sat on a couch with a bowl of popcorn. You shoved a handful into your mouth when suddenly you noticed the camera sitting in front of you, “You left your camera in here! ...Hey- are you filming me?” You lifted the device to your face and stuck out your tongue. 

You could hear Mickey chuckle in the background. 

Another clip played of Mickey and you sitting on the floor. It was a different day, you guys were laughing hysterically over something. You’ve never seen Mickey so happy.

More and more clips of questions and answers paired with you played. It was matched together perfectly. Realization dawned on you. Was this a confession from Mickey? 

Mickey’s sweet voice played once more. But this wasn’t for any of the couples. He was sat on the couch, asking you.

“Think about a cheesy but underrated romance, okay? What is your favorite romantic scene from that movie?” 

You were only a few inches away from him, head rested on your hand on the backboard of his bed. 

“I’ll go first, I think the kiss during Titanic is spectacular.”

“It’s good but it’s not underrated Micks.”

“Alright, then what’s your choice?”

“...Armageddon. The picnic scene. I’ve never been on a picnic so something like that just seems so... tranquil.”

“You’ve never been to a picnic?”

“Yep... is that weird?”

“Completely and utterly, (Y/n).”

You laughed loudly in the documentary. The next scene was of Mickey setting the camera up someplace. He looked nervous. When he stepped away from the camera, it was a perfect angle to film the picnic he set up for you. 

You knew the rest. The next couple of minutes showed your guys’ picnic together. Including the movie quote. 

The end of the film was nearing, and Mickey’s anxiety was through the roof. It was far from romantic but once his project stopped playing he was going to confess to you. He was going to confess in front of all of his friends, for you. Just a few minutes left and he was going to do it. 

And then you left. 

Mickey finished the quote from the movie and you left instantly. Mickey’s jaw dropped as he stared at his friends. They looked equally confused. 

“Go after them, dude!” Randy yelled. 

It took a while but eventually, Mickey found you. You were on the porch of the sorority house, leaning against the railing and staring at the sunset. There was a cool breeze and parts of your hair waved in the wind. You had your arms wrapped around your body, pulling your jacket close. Mickey could see the orange glow illuminating your face when he joined your side. 

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t look at him. His heart dropped. He messed up.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to-” 

You shushed him. He fell silent.

“Come here... close your eyes... Step up... No peeking”

“I’m not...”

You pulled on his arm and forced him to stand behind you. You guided him to stand on the lower bar of the railing with you, his body nearly wrapped around yours. He stumbled a bit but he followed your movement blindly. The lack of distance between you two had him trembling. 

“Just a sec...” You whispered and pulled a walkman out of your pocket. “I wanted to get this right...” You said and pressed play.

The instrumental of My Heart Will Go On began to play and Mickey barked out a laugh. 

“What in the world-”

“Put your hands on my waist, Micks,”  You grabbed his hands. “You can open your eyes now.”

Just like the movie, Mickey thought. 

“I realize we can just see more of the campus... not the ocean,” Your words were gentle. They came out like honey. “But I wanted you to see... how you make me feel like I can fly.”

Mickey stared at your adoringly. Your scent filled his nostrils and he wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever. His hands ventured from your waist to lift them, like in the movie. Mickey leaned forward and whispered, “Come Josephine my flying machine going up she goes...” His hot breath tickled your ear and you could feel as he intertwined his hand with yours. “Going up...”

You turned to stare at him just as the music of your cassette player swelled. You hesitantly reached his face, and Mickey leaned in instinctively. Your hand comfortably rested on the back of his neck as his lips gently pressed against yours. 

They were hesitant, hot, gentle, almost hungry. His skin was a burning touch. Your hand melded against his skin, touching the curve of his jaw. Mickey’s fingers danced around your body, wanting to explore every crevice for the first time. Mickey had been unknowingly craving the touch of your skin and lips for so long, it felt like euphoria took control of his body.

He poured himself into you. You were willing to drown in his touch.

[keilemlucent]

lavender latte: ii

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

chapter 1   ||   chapter 3   ||   chapter 4

ao3

word count: ~3k

You and Hawks’s second meeting.

warnings: mutual pining, shy reader-ish, ooc hawks, the fun stuff, fluff ; ) 

|||||||||||||

You didn’t hear anything from Hawks for the next few days. 

It was a fleeting disappointment, but you took his lack of contact as truth and reality. Some big shot, pro-hero wasn’t going to waste time texting a no-name, nobody barista, no matter how mutually flirty of an interaction was shared. 

Prior to actually meeting Hawks, you had seen the tabloids that his name spilled over. Shady stories of midnight rendezvous with models and celebrities, sultry pictures of his own on magazines at grocery store checkouts were a lot of your knowledge of him. He was a very eligible and active bachelor, everyone knew it. 

You reminded yourself that you didn’t mean shit to him, and moved on.

Until about a week from your first meeting, late into the evening, your phone buzzed.

You thought it was one of the team from the teashop, asking another question about a new blend you had made. 

Your eyes widened at the text that you did see:

 [unknown number]: hey angel ;) do you work tomorrow? it’s supposed to be a cold one and i’d love to try another one of your drinks

 You stared at your phone screen for a moment, mouth going dry before typing out a reply. 

 [you]: is this hawks?

 The next reply came only seconds later.

 [unknown number]: the one and only ;))))

  He... actually texted me?

Holy shit.

Another message came in. 

 [unknown number]: don’t tell me you go handing out your number to folks at work all the time :^( you’re gonna hurt my :^((( feelings :^((((

 You deadpanned at Hawks’s texts. 

You couldn’t believe the number two, pro hero texted like a normal twenty-some year old.

It was endearing, if not at the very least comforting.

 [you]: nah, just you tailfeathers 😉

[you]: i work tomorrow morning, opening shift. 6 am. think you can handle it???

 You giggled at your own texts, unable to hold back when you saw Hawks continuing to type. You quickly typed in a contact name.

 [tailfeathers]: E

[tailfeathers]: Z

[tailfeathers]: i’ll be there bright and early ;)

 Part of you, the rational, realistic part, doubted that. Sure, Hawks had texted you, but he wouldn’t actually show, right? He was a busy, busy man. He’d probably get sidetracked.

Don’t get your hopes up. 

 You tried to remain practical.

But, you also liked pushing your luck.

 [you]: see u then!!

[you]: btw your contact name is ‘tailfeathers’ 

[you]: ;)

 [tailfeathers]: what if i told you yours is ‘barista angel’

 [you]: i’d ask if you saw my name on that conveniently small piece of paper i gave you

 [tailfeathers]: i would say yes

[tailfeathers]: but idk angel seems like a more proper title for u 

You felt your still and heat rush to your face. 

He can’t be flirting with you over text. What the FUCK.

 [tailfeathers]: only angels can make coffee as well as u 😇

 “What a bastard,” You shook your head, sighing. Part of you was glad he made it more clear your identity was tied to coffee and not affections. 

 [you]: u flatter me

 [tailfeathers]: i only speak the truth ;)

 You bit your lip as you typed out the next reply, well aware that the evening sky had darkened and you needed an adequate amount of sleep to actually make it to that morning shift. 

 [you]: i’m about to knock out so i can actually be alive for my shift, but i’ll see you tomorrow bird boy

 Hawks’s replied quickly as seemed to be a trend with him. 

 [tailfeathers]: bird boy!!!!! 

[tailfeathers]: i’m moving up in the world

[tailfeathers]: see u then angel 

 As you got ready for bed, going about your mundane routine and preparing the coming day, you had no idea that Keigo was across the city, cradling his phone to his chest with a wobbling smile on his face, a foreign sensation filling his chest. 

He was very excited to see you again, even if it took a few days to get that far.

 |||||||||||||||||||

 The next day was indeed, terribly cold. Despite bundling up in a thick, woolen coat and a knit scarf, you nearly froze on the way to work. Despite the chill, the rest of the morning crew made it in just a few minutes after you.

“I’ll be in back until there’s a rush, alright?” You called to the three openers, all silly college students from the local university. They were all sort of dense, but they were loveable.

“Okay!” One smiled as they flitted to the front counter and seating area.

The back of the teashop was a smaller commercial kitchen, all steel tables and cooking implements. Lots of tools to actually do your job. Though you were the maker of the tea blends for the shop, a lot of your work consisted of packaging and fulfilling orders as well as design work for the teashop’s online presence. Truthfully, you were more of a jack-of-all-trades type of worker, but nearly all of it confined you to the safety of the back kitchen. The lack of stimuli made it easier to work effectively, quirk activated or otherwise.

You tied your apron tight around your waist, adjusting a few of your buttons and smoothing yourself down. The back remained frigid in the mornings, and you could only be glad you were layered up for the day. You pulled out your company-issued tablet and began tapping away with the stylus as the shop prepped to open.

You were too absorbed in your work to hear the bell at the entrance, just minutes after unlocking the door. 

 Keigo? Elated. His last week of hero work had been all long hours and late nights. His wings had grown sparse with overuse, barely carrying him properly through the skies. When he saw that his office day at his agency was due to be particularly cold, he knew it was the perfect excuse to give you a visit.

You hadn’t been constantly on his mind. Rather, you perked up in his thoughts semi-reliably, but briefly a few times a day. Most affections were forgettable, he didn’t have time for anything other than whorish trysts with other heroes and those of higher society who knew how to keep their mouths (somewhat) shut. 

Part of him, the part that the Commission’s ruthless training created, hated the way how you were sticking with him.

Another part of him, the kinder, softer, very repressed one, recognized his feelings and hid them safely. Vulnerable things required heavy protection.

 When Keigo reached the teashop, early as dawn crept over the urbanscape, he pushed the door open and was greeted by the rolling smell of roasted coffee beans and black tea.

Only a few other patrons were there, eyes wide as the top ten hero gave them a trademark wave, waltzing to the counter with his signature swagger.

The workers (none of them being you) gawked at him, jaws half to the floor.

“Hawks?!” One of them exclaimed. “Oh my god, can I get an autograph?!”

 (Keigo carried a few pens on him for occasions like this.)

 The worker, a young thing with a shock of short blue hair, wrestled under the counter for a notebook. Another of the workers also attempted to wrangle a bit of receipt paper from the fussy machine, flashing him a nervous smile.

“Of course, autographs are a given,” He winked at the two of them, sauntering up to the counter. “On one condition, though. Could you tell me if (Y/N) is working?”

The morning shifts workers proceeded to gawk more. 

 You sat deep in concentration, thoroughly organizing yourself for the day with lists and plans. You were only startled from your work when one of the other baristas popped her head back, eyes wide. 

“Uh, (Y/N), I know you’re busy, but Hawks is here for you?” She stammered, saying his name incredulously and pointing a shaking finger out at the counter.

You could hear his silky laugh just beyond the precipice. 

Your mouth quirked up in surprise. 

I didn’t expect him to actually come.

It was a pleasant surprise though, one that made your heart stutter in your chest.

You put down the tablet, making your way to the front of the shop.

Hawks leaned down on the front counter, signing various papers and items that the staff and patrons of the tea shop had given him. His smooth voice echoed beautifully around the shop, mixing with the din of the soft music that provided ambient sound. 

Thoroughly absorbed in his fan interaction, you leaned against the door frame, watching him as he had yet to notice you.

(You tried to look nonchalant, but it was probably a bit of ogling.)

Hawks’s scarlet wings appeared sparse, but still twitched and fluffed every few moments. He was dressed in his hero uniform, visor pushed up into the feathery, front bits of his hair. With all of his typical regalia on, he seemed out of place in the slow din of the coffee shop. He seemed to shine so brightly, making himself a focal point without even trying. 

Without the protection of his visor, Hawks’ honeyed eyes seemed brighter, luminous from the inside out. Even from your distance, you could watch their topazine shine dance in the soft lighting. 

His gaze drifted to you and positively lit up. 

(You didn’t think that was possible.)  

Your stomach fluttered.

“Well, if it isn’t (Y/N)!” Hawks beamed you a smile that could’ve put the sun to shame. It made something deep in your chest thrum. “For a minute there, I thought you’d pulled my leg about working today.”

“Oh, never, ” You grinned, moving directly in front of him at the counter, your shocked coworkers parting for you. “I tend to work in the back if the rest of our lovely staff is present.

You gestured to your very starstruck coworkers who all gave various gawking looks before falling away, shyness obviously overtaking them. 

It wasn’t like you weren’t feeling similarly, but your nervousness was better hidden. Facades were, in fact, a trained skill in maintaining and god, if you weren’t a master.

But, Keigo had his own mastery in spotting cracks in people’s veneers. And, easily, he saw your tension and nervousness. For anyone with less trained interpersonal skills, they wouldn’t have noticed a damn thing. But to Keigo? Your anxiety was as clear as the light you added to a room. A few of his feathers twitched, picking up on the rapid beating of your heart across from him. 

“What can I get you?” You asked, speaking through any of your fears, cracking him a genuine smile.

Keigo returned it without thought, chest warming.

“Mmm... Surprise me. Something to help me get my day started.” Keigo loved the way your eyes lit up when he talked, a little bit of knowingness between the two of you sparking. 

“Same specifications as before? Hot and sweet?” You asked, already grabbing a cup, flashing him a cheeky grin. 

Hawks raised an eyebrow, batting his eyelashes at you in a way that you couldn’t not laugh. He rested his elbows on the counter and leaned over the top of it, regarding you with half-lidded eyes, “You remember my preferences? I feel honored.”

“You should,” You winked. If he was going to shamelessly flirt, you would right back. 

 Truthfully, your personal attention made Keigo swoon like a goddamn schoolgirl. He could feel sweat growing on his palms, making the leather of his gloves stick. Normally, the sensation would’ve ticked his more anxiety-ridden tendencies into overdrive, but he could hardly focus on them. He was too busy watching you flit around behind the counter.

 “So,” You began, activating your quirk and beginning your process. “Why so few feathers? Get roughed up?”

Keigo chuckled, flexing what feathers he did have left for emphasis, “Basically. I have to give them a few days to regrow. A couple nasty days in a row means a couple days recovery.”

You hummed, turning to the espresso machine. Before pouring the shot, you gave him a little smile with the cutest quirk in your lips, “I’m sure you more than deserve the rest.”

 Oh, that made his proverbial dick swell.

Someone, a very nice, stranger barista, angel, telling him he deserved something kind? And, there wasn’t an edge of dishonesty in you. If anything, there was an earnestness in your quirk-blackened eyes that made Keigo nearly scared of the amount of vulnerability you gave him so freely.

He wondered if you showed that to all of your patrons. 

(You didn’t.) 

 You turned behind the counter, quirk activated and swirling. The familiar blending of your senses made your teeth ache and head burn with the overabundance of stimuli, but you worked through it. You reached through the external sensations to manifest your idea and feeling into a conceivable reality. 

You dumped any number of syrups and shots into the cup, placing it (and a lid) on the counter in front of Hawks. Warm smells of cardamom and cinnamon tickled both of your noses as you nodded down, “Let that cool for a sec, then give it a taste. I need a comprehensive review.”

Hawks plucked off one of his gloves, taking the steaming cup in his hand, looking down at the foam. His gaze flickered around the two of you, noting that the few civilians and coworkers once surrounding him had left you two with a small bit of privacy.

“What’s the inspiration for this one?” Hawks gave you a downright sweet, knowing look.

“Take a sip and guess,” You nodded down to the cup again, idly going to wipe down the counters with a rag slung in your apron.

Hawks blew on steaming liquid, throwing back his head to take a decently sized sip. You had to tear your gaze from the bob of his throat. 

  Keep it in your pants. 

 While you were suppressing being horny for the number two hero, Keigo was suppressing being horny for a fucking beverage. 

The flavor hit his tongue and throat and danced. It was warm, like the last one, spilling hearth-like heat into his chest and extremities. But, this drink tasted literally spiced, like it had some sort of pepper in it (according to Keigo’s untrained, pitiful palette). His wings ruffled, feathers rustling and twitching with the taste of the drink. Despite the heat flooding his body, the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rose as waves of subtle pleasure rolled through Keigo’s body. 

He placed the cup back on the counter, staring you down with incredulity.

You, cutely cheeky as ever, just smiled and crossed your arms over your chest, “Are you a fan?”

“It’s... spicy. How. Why. Is this even coffee?” Hawks asked. Despite his questioning, he took another sip, shuddering at the comforting heat it gave him. 

“There’s coffee in it, or, espresso,” You couldn’t help feeling a bit smitten with the way Hawks looked at you. Disbelief wasn’t an expression you saw many heroes wear, especially not one with a reputation like Hawks’s. Yet, there he was, in front of you, staring at his cup like you just served him battery acid and grass. 

“If that’s the case, gimme the rundown, angel,” Hawks peeled off his other glove, setting the pair on the counter. He surprised you as he shrugged off his lined jacket, plopping down in a nearby stool.

You hadn’t ever really seen this much of Hawks, not in his hero uniform anyways. Plenty of him was available for viewing due to his various modeling ventures, but seeing him in the flesh was far better. The black shirt of his hero costume stretched over the lean, sculpted muscles of his arms. He certainly wasn’t built in the same way other top heroes were, but from what you could see (read: drool over), Hawks certainly wasn’t lacking—

“See something you like?” Hawks raised an eyebrow while taking another sip,  devilish curl to his lips.

You really wished you had the bodily control to stop the red flush that grew on your face.

“SO —!” You laughed, diverting back to the drink at hand. “The drink.”

“Wonderful deflection,” Hawks set the cup down, still smirking. “So, the drink .”

Your fingers tapped at the countertop, living your blush down with a lack of eye contact. 

  He gets stared at all the time, chill out. 

Dude probably likes it, (Y/N).

 “The drink is a dirty chai, with some editions, of course.” You jerked your head back to the wall of tea blends, the familiar ebbing away from of your embarrassment. “We have a couple of different chai blends that I make in house. Several different chai concentrates too.”

“Forgive me, but a dirty chai?” Hawks teased.

“Wow, weak jab there, Hawks, ” You rolled your eyes. Hawks just continued to beam at you, swinging his legs behind the counter. “I gave you an oatmilk,  ginger chai with three shots of espresso and a few other secret touches. I wanted to make it warm again for you.”

 Keigo paused at your admission, (not-so) secretly reveling in your poorly contained embarrassment. Perhaps it was a bit cruel, but his job did carry some wonderful perks and he’d be damned to not enjoy them. 

“It feels like a different kind of warm, compared to last time,” Keigo took another taste to confirm. The spiced liquid flooded his palette again, skin pleasantly prickling at the taste. 

 You hummed, refusing to fully make eye contact with Hawks. 

Truthfully, you spent an embarrassing amount of time since the night prior thinking about potential sensations to emulate for Hawks. You were never sure of what type of vibe he would request, but having an arsenal of ideas made you feel more prepared to impress your new clientele. 

“I made it feel like dawn,” You replied, nodding to out of the fully-windowed front of the tea shop. The district you were located in was lit up by the golds and pinks of the early morning, stretching and awakening with the new day. “I wanted it to feel like how morning sun feels on your bare skin. All like... tingly, you know? Like... seeing someone you haven't seen in a long time. ”

 Keigo immediately noticed your bashfulness after you gave your description. In the same way as last time, the vulnerability of your manifested feelings left you warm and shy for him. 

You picked at a loose string on your apron, gaze directed down and away.  With his obscured view of your face, he could see the way you softly bit your lip, eyes occasionally raking him up and down and that retreating. Keigo could feel your pounding heart and slow, deep breaths. 

...

Keigo was whipped and he hardly knew you. He was so fucked.

You were too fucking cute. It was fucking illegal. It had to be. 

Keigo had been with sexy. He’d been with unattainable. He’d been with women and men who looked like they were crafted by gods as tempters and devils. It was all pleasure and Keigo knew it like the back of his hand. He got hedonistic bliss when he wanted it and he did so very, very well.

What Keigo was entirely unfamiliar with was the gooey, fluttery feeling in his chest as you finally looked up at him to smile and nod to the drink, “So, what do you think?”

Keigo’s brain fizzled, rendered into goo. If he didn’t have years of interpersonal training, he was sure he wouldn’t have been able to speak with his own revelations. Luckily, he was able to laugh off his internal stickiness, taking another greedy sip.

“Absolutely flawless, wonderful craftsmanship, (Y/N),” Keigo bowed his head dramatically. 

 You giggled at Keigo’s drama, missing the way how his cheeks lit up for you. 

Hawks dug in his pocket, pulling out a huge wad of bills and started to slide it across the counter, “This is a tip. All for you.”

You stared, horrified at the amount of money Hawks passed to you like it was nothing. Without thinking, you placed your hand on top of his, stopping his motion. Both of you stiffened pleasantly at the sudden, small contact. 

“That’s too much, Hawks, no,” You shook your head, but Hawks was a stubborn, insistent bastard. 

His wings fluffed up behind him, a feather moving quickly between your hands and pushing your up and away.

“What the fuck.” You half-groaned. Hawks fully passed the money across the counter, hiding his hands and feathers in his lap with a Panish smirk stretched across his face.

“Take it, or I tattle on you, easy trade,” Hawks shrugged, leaning his elbows on the counter and drinking deeply. He pulled away from his beverage with a relaxed-looking smile as you remained fluster.

(Holy fuck, you touched Hawks’s bare hand and it was so NICE—)

You could feel the eyes of your coworkers, staring at the money like some Olympic medal. You were well-aware that there was no way Hawks was taking back his money and you knew your coworkers would be too scared to ask for a cut. 

You gulped, taking the cash and tucking it into your apron pocket.

“You don’t need to bribe me to make you nice drinks, Hawks, it’s literally my job,” You told him gently.

Hawks raised an eyebrow, shrugging, “Accept it as a little treat on the side. A gift of my appreciation.”

You couldn’t argue with that, so you relented with a smile, shaking your head. 

And the two of your dissolved into easy conversation. Hawks told you about the most recent gigs he had been a part of. A modeling contract for a new skincare company and a sponsorship with a few other local heroes for a sports beverage were the most interesting. You were sure he was just humoring you, unable to tell you the nitty-gritty details of his life. Yet, he seemed happy to speak and listen besides. He chattered away, in the way birds do, sing-song, and free-flowing. 

Hawks was hardly a bird of prey, you realized. He was much more of a cockatoo type. 

You told him more about the tea shop, about your role and job. As you explained about the basics of different types of tea, you could literally see the far off way Hawks looked at you. It wasn’t of distraction, like spacing out, no. It was a look that hadn’t been directed at you in some time. You silently and quickly studied it and came to the nerve-wracking conclusion that the cute blush on his cheeks and half-lidded eyes and relaxed shoulders was fucking captivation, borderline adoration.

For.

You.

How the fuck were you supposed to deal with that?

(Keigo wasn’t sure either.)

 Luckily, neither of you planned on doing anything to stop your mutually budding feelings.  

[mysterytickingegos]

Roadtrip

Pairing: Wilford Warfstache x Reader

Genre: Fluff. Like so god damn fluffy. The fluffiest thing this angst-lover will ever write. TOOTH ROTTING- okay you get the point.

Word Count: 1,710

Summary: Your relationship with the strange TV personality naturally leads to some pretty fun adventures, but this one might just go down in history as your favorite.

Anonymous Request: If you have time, could you please do 10, 17, and 20 with either Wilford or Yancy (and they/them pronouns)? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 I love your writing btw ❤️

Authors Note: I think it’s safe to say I’m out of the ficlet mindset after this one. I got an idea and got waaay carried away but hopefully no one minds!  Maybe a bit out of character? I’m not completely sure.

Want to read more?

[Image Description: A gif of Wilford Warfstache from the short “Warfstache Interviews Markipler” screwing with his hair. End Description.]

The sun wasn’t even up yet, that was your biggest concern. Not that there could be some kind of emergency but that someone had the audacity to knock on your door before the sun was even up. You swung the door open to see Wilford standing there, looking much more casual than usual and grinning the moment he saw you. “Good morning, sunshine! Ready to go?”

You sighed and let your defenses down. “To go?”

“Yes, to go! To go to the big thing in Chicago!”

“Yeah I remember that, I thought we were leaving at six thirty.”

“It is six thirty.” He said, glancing down at his watch to check.

You stared at him for a moment in sleepy confusion before it finally hit you. “You meant six in the morning??”

“Well of course I meant the morning, can you imagine the traffic that time of day?” He chuckled at the thought and let himself inside. “Besides, the network made it very clear I can’t miss this. Best not to take chances.”

“...You’re lucky you’re cute.” You grumbled, fighting back a yawn as you left to get dressed and grab the bag you packed the night before.

You’d been dating Wil for somewhere close to two years at this point, and you’d been friends for longer than that, and you still never had any idea what to expect from him. There was always a new adventure or shenanigans for him to pull you into, just waiting around the corner. This was one of those times.

When you came back downstairs he took your bag, and your hands in his once it was securely over his shoulder. “Come on, cheer up! I know you took the week off so I made sure this would be worthwhile, planned some stops, made sure we had plenty of time.”

You stopped to lock up your apartment before you two started walking downstairs. “What kind of stops?”

“Sweetheart, you are just gonna have to wait and see.” He told you with a wink.

MONDAY

If Wil hadn’t stopped at a gas station, you probably wouldn’t have been able to keep yourself awake at the start of the drive, but thankfully you took the opportunity to get yourself some caffeine and something for you both to eat. After that it was pretty fun, with music blasting and the windows cracked. Every half hour or so one of you would turn the music down and get into another conversation. You had both been so busy the past few months that you had plenty to talk about. Though, the entire time he made a point to keep a folded up piece of paper out of your reach.

The first detour was through the Las Vegas strip, the only stop being a cozy barbecue place off of an exit. But it was fun to see the grand casinos and attractions nonetheless.

“Okay, this is amazing,” You said, pointing to what was left of your sandwich. “What’s the story behind this place?”

“I’ve actually never been here before, just saw it had four and a half stars.” In the middle of his explanation, he swiped a fry off your plate. “I actually haven’t stayed in Vegas since before all the smart...google...haberdashery.”

You stopped halfway to taking a drink, biting back a smile. “Haberdashery?”

He smiled back, shaking his head at you. “Don’t start.”

“So you really planned this out then, huh?”

“Yeah! I have a whole list of places we’re stopping. Did you expect anything less from me?”

“I probably shouldn’t answer that.” You teased. He gasped in mock offense before both of you burst out laughing.

“Fair enough.”

Once you got back on the road it was an extremely long eight hours, at least in the second half after another gas station stop. Your legs were cramped up and the music was getting a bit tedious and had to be turned down. Wilford assured you it was the longest stretch in the whole trip, but even he was tired by the time you guys got to stop in a small Chinese restaurant on the border of Colorado.  “I should’ve picked a closer hotel.” He mumbled through a yawn, waiting somewhat impatiently on the ‘meal for two’ special. “I really didn’t think it’d be this late.”

“How far is it?” You asked, spinning your straw in your glass.

“‘Nother two hours, I think.”

You nodded, deciding to step in. “You could barely keep your eyes open when we pulled in, you should let me drive.”

“You’re probably right...” He seemed hesitant, but neither one of you wanted this to end in a car crash. “But don’t look at the list.”

“I won’t, I won’t. Jeez”

The next two hours were nice, as it was dark now and there were hardly any cars. It didn’t take more than a few minutes for Wilford to doze off in the passenger seat after he put in the next address and you played an audiobook at a low volume to keep yourself focused. Finally the GPS buzzed; “Your destination is on the left.”

You pulled into the lot of Riverwalk inn and nudged your partner’s shoulder until he finally started to stir. “Hey, c’mon we’re here.”

TUESDAY

You heard an alarm start going off on the other side of the bed and let out a groan, pulling a pillow over your head. “What time is it?”

“It’s eight, get up and get dressed and I’ll find someplace to eat.” And with that Wilford was up and out of bed, no problems.

You on the other hand... “We can’t even sleep in a little bit?”

“Not unless you want to start crossing places off the list, my dear.” He started going through his things to look for something new to wear. “We still have to make it there by Friday...for the thing.”

You grumbled some more, finally dragging yourself out of bed after hearing a couple promises of fresh coffee. “Wilford Warfstache, this ‘thing’ better be the best thing that’ll ever happen to you.”

“I already know it will be!” He said in a sing-song voice as you grabbed your bag and vanished into the bathroom.

“What’s the plan for today anyway?” You called out.

“Nothing much, a couple breaks here and there but it’ll take most of the day to get to-” You heard him cut himself off, “to...the next place. But things’ll get good tomorrow, I promise.”

And when you drove into Oklahoma city that night, you pondered all the possibilities.

WEDNESDAY

It was much easier to get up early, mostly out of excitement. After you two stopped at a random chain restaurant to get something for breakfast, you pushed for answers again. “Come on, you have to tell me now that we’re here.”

“Well, actually I couldn’t decide.”He tore his napkin in two and pull a pen out of what seemed to be thin air. You were about to ask if he even realized he did that, as he usually didn’t, but he held both his now-paper-filled hands out. “So, you pick. Left or right, whatever the paper says is what we’ll do.”

“Okay...left.”

He tossed the other paper over his shoulder and read what yours said. “Ooh good choice.” You tried to lean over the table to see it but he closed his hand quickly, leaning closer to you. “Now, Y/n, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you want to kiss me.”

“I’ll kiss you if you tell me where we’re going.”

He laughed at you and slipped out of the booth without hesitation. “Nope! Not ruining the surprise.”

He was very insistent that it didn’t happen, even convincing you to close your eyes once you were close. He guided you out of the car, and finally let you open your eyes. You looked up at the big green sign.

“OKC Zoo and Botanical Garden.”

“Oh my- are you serious?” You had to stop yourself from jumping up in excitement, and grabbed his hand to pull him inside.

You were still beaming hours after you two left, showing him how all the photos turned out over dinner in Kansas City.

THURSDAY

The audiobook had hit a lull, and you were too sick of pop music to switch it. Wilford was much more quiet than usual, so you kept to yourself for a while after lunch, eventually nodding off for a good half-hour.

“We made it!” Your boyfriend cheered, shutting off the car as you sat up straight. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t even realize.”

“Nah it’s fine. We’re here?”

“Yep! We are officially, finally in Chicago. Ready to stretch your legs?” 

You bought some ice cream from a Dessert Dealer before driving down to the architecture center to walk around, even deciding to catch a movie before you checked into the hotel.

“This was the best. week. ever!” You exclaimed, flopping onto the bed.

Wil chuckled and laid down beside you. “It’s not over yet.”

“Well you said no detours planned on the way back, and you’ll be busy with the thing tomorrow, so...safe to say we can call it.” You shrugged, flipping onto your stomach and laying your head on your arms. “What is it anyway? A speech? Big grand opening?”

He didn’t answer you at first, contemplating the answer. “Truth be told...” He started. “The network has no idea I’m here. I just wanted to surprise you with all of this. Because...”

“Because?”

He put up a finger, staring down at his watch until-

FRIDAY

“Because, happy anniversary.” He said with a grin,

You had to pause, doing the math in your head, before sitting up straight. “That is...the sweetest thing anybody’s ever done for me. God, I love you.”

He pulled you into a hug before you started tearing up. “I love you too...In fact I didn’t think it was possible to love someone so much.”

“Me either,” You admitted, pulling back to wipe your face with your sleeve. “Happy anniversary, Wil.”

Little did you know that despite the list being complete, there was still one more surprise in store.

You know, considering the ‘top secret list’ you couldn’t look at was just to keep your attention away from the tiny black box in his suitcase?

[notanacousticsetcal]

betty - calum hood

summary - a story based off of the song betty by taylor swift -- one of my absolute favorites from folklore and the most beautiful little story :) (y/n) in the role of the icon betty. 

warnings - cheating

word count - 3k ish

mood board

a/n - check out the other 3 installments of the song series too! this piece is kind of out of the blue because I actually started it and finished it today which is extremely rare for me but I actually really like how it turned out. hope you guys do too. :) (def listen to this song -- its amazing). (btw this isnt the calum fic i was referencing in one of my previous posts, that one is still in the works.)

Betty, I won't make assumptions about why you switched your homeroom, but I think it's 'cause of me.

Calum sat in the back row, staring at Missy Grenshaw’s head feeling the hole in his chest grow larger. He glanced at your empty seat and frowned, his eyebrows scrunched together. 

He heard Mrs. Martin start attendance and when she skipped over your name, the hole grew impossibly larger. 

Calum tried to convince himself you switched because Mrs. Martin was a hard grader, but he knew that wasn’t the real reason.

He knew it was because you couldn’t stand to see his face. 

Betty, one time I was riding on my skateboard when I passed your house. It's like I couldn't breathe.

Calum listened to the sound of a distant lawn mower and the rustling leaves and inhaled the smell of someone barbecuing in their backyard, trying to calm himself. He almost turned around and went home, his stomach grumbling at the idea of dinner waiting for him on the dining room table, but he didn’t. 

He was only a block away from your house now. He pretended like he was riding down your street because it had the smoothest road, but Calum couldn’t lie to himself. Just knowing your room was in that house and knowing you might be sitting on your bed was enough to draw Calum near. 

He didn’t let himself stop in front of the brick fronted modest house, but he wanted to. His legs ached as he kept pushing. He secretly hoped the sound of his wheels would draw you to the window. He held his breath in anticipation, but nothing. Not even a subtle shift in the curtains. 

You heard the rumors from Inez. You can't believe a word she says most times, but this time it was true. The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you.

“(Y/n)!” A familiar voice chirped from behind you. You turned on your heel to face your friend, Inez. She was your source of gossip always, even if it was almost always speculation and barely ever accurate. 

You weren’t expecting her sad features -- it alarmed you. “Are you alright, Inez? What happened?” You linked arms with her as you continued forward, heading for first period.

She nodded softly. “You aren’t going to want to hear this, (y/n).”

But if I just showed up at your party, would you have me? Would you want me? Would you tell me to go fuck myself or lead me to the garden? In the garden would you trust me if I told you it was just a summer thing? I'm only seventeen, I don't know anything but I know I miss you.

Calum tossed the tennis ball up and caught it. He laid on his bed, absentmindedly continuing to toss the ball up and down, his mind plagued with thoughts about you.

Your birthday was a week away. Calum let his mind wander off in endless possibilities. 

He knew how much he had hurt you and the guilt ate at him constantly. A day didn’t go by that he didn’t beat himself up for being so stupid. 

Nothing was worth more to him than your happiness and he knew that now. He would do anything in his power to fix what he broke, if you’d let him.

He wondered how you would react if he showed up on your doorstep that evening, a bundle of flowers in hand and an apologetic smile on his face. 

He wondered if you’d slam the door in his face and ignore his knocks and desperate pleas. 

Or if you’d hesitantly let him come inside, your guard up, and lead him to the garden to talk alone. If you’d let him ramble on about how stupid he was. About how badly he messed up.

About how much he fucking missed you. 

Your soft smile and your positive, bright disposition and your generosity and selflessness. The way your eyes squinted when you laughed and the way your hair smelled. 

Calum really fucking missed you.

But he knew he didn’t really deserve a second chance. And he was asking a lot begging for one. But he thought he at least had to try.

Or this mistake would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

Betty, I know where it all went wrong, your favorite song was playing from the far side of the gym. I was nowhere to be found, I hate the crowds, you know that. Plus, I saw you dance with him.

Calum walked into the school alongside you, your hand in his and a bright smile on your face. You loved dances and seeing all your friends dressed up -- Calum felt claustrophobic, but he would do anything to keep that smile on your face, so he tagged along anyway.

Immediately, you tugged him towards the dance floor and he followed hesitantly. After only a few moments on the dance floor, Calum excused himself to the sidelines. He watched your expression fall, but you understood. You would never pressure him into anything he was uncomfortable with.

Calum felt like he could finally breathe properly from the edges of the gym.

He watched solemnly as the DJ began to play your favorite song. Your features lit up and Calum couldn’t help but smile, too. He wished he could go in there and dance with you but just the thought of being squished in between so many people made his pulse speed up and his palms sweaty.

He watched Dean approach you, clearly nervous, and his hands turned to fists. Calum had half a mind to go over there and punch him square in the face. 

Calum knew he couldn’t do that, but he had fun imagining it.

Dean grabbed your waist, pulling you close, and Calum’s heart practically stopped.

He couldn’t take anymore, so with one last glance at your soft smile, Calum stalked off in an angry blur.

Calum knew if he had just asked, you would’ve reassured him it was only a dance.

Calum knew if he had just asked, everything wouldn’t have gone the way it did. 

I was walking home on broken cobblestones just thinking of you when she pulled up like a figment of my worst intentions. She said "James, get in, let's drive,” those days turned into nights. Slept next to her but I dreamt of you all summer long.

The sun beat down on Calum’s back and he couldn’t wait to get home. He’d run out of water long ago, riding his skateboard in the early summer heat. 

He stumbled home, skipping happily over cracks in the concrete, skateboard in hand. 

He thought about seeing you after dinner. Taking you to your favorite tree and watching the stars. Or… looking at you while you looked at the stars. He thought about the way you danced with Dean. He still hadn’t told you how much it bothered him so he just let the resentment boil up until it stung the back of his throat.

Calum heard tires screech next to him, a familiar face in the driver's seat. Her red lipstick shimmered in the direct sunlight. Her sunglasses reflected Calum’s awestruck face. 

“Calum, get in. Lets drive,” She said. Her lips quirked up into an inviting smile and Calum swayed hesitantly. “Aw, come on. I’ll drive you home.” 

Calum looked around at the neighborhood once more, checking for witnesses, and then finally climbed into the silver convertible. As soon as he got in, his heart fluttered with guilt. His eyes filled with images of you, hurting, and he almost got out. Almost.

There was Dean again, haunting Calum through memories, smiling down at you, holding you. Calum gripped his skateboard harder, his knuckles growing white.

Her voice was so inviting and her car smelled so nice. The air conditioning hit Calum’s warm skin and soothed it instantly. Calum stayed. 

Calum didn’t just stay, though. He could’ve forgiven himself for that. 

Betty, I'm here on your doorstep and I planned it out for weeks now but It's finally sinking in. Betty, right now is the last time I can dream about what happens when you see my face again. The only thing I wanna do is make it up to you. 

Calum tossed and turned in his sleep, getting more and more frustrated with the nerves. He would face you tomorrow. It would determine the outcome of everything he had been wondering and worrying about for weeks. 

Tomorrow meant everything. He had one last night to drift into dreams about how you might react. The forgiveness or resentment. The smile or the tears. The hug or the shove. 

He drifted to sleep with images of you playing in his mind. In your favorite sweater, his hand in yours. 

Calum hoped with everything in him that you could see past his stupid mistake. But he prepared himself for the worst. You didn’t owe him anything. 

So, I showed up at your party. Yeah, I showed up at your party. Yeah, I showed up at your party. Will you have me? Will you love me? Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends? If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it? Will it patch your broken wings? I'm only seventeen. I don't know anything, but I know I miss you.

Calum straightened out his button down and shifted the flowers, watching a few stray petals fall loose and hit the pavement of your porch. He cleared his throat and listened anxiously while his heart pounded ferociously in his ear. 

He could faintly hear commotion from within the confines of your home but he couldn’t make out anything they were saying.

His shaky hand extended towards the dark wood door and he knocked twice.

Cars were parked a block or two down the street -- all of your friends had already arrived.

Calum could lie and say he meant to be the last person, but in reality, he sat in his car for 30 minutes gathering up the nerve to come over there.

He could see multicolored balloons lining the walls inside. He watched as a figure appeared through the window, the tint making the figure only a silhouette. 

The door began to open and Calum thought for a moment about running, but it was too late. Before he knew it, he was face to face with you again. For the first time in 2 months, you were looking at him and he was looking at you.

He watched as confusion and shock filled your eyes, and then disappeared, filling with pure curiosity. He didn’t notice any anger yet. 

“Calum?” Your voice was like sugar. Calum’s knees felt weak.

“Yeah, hi (y/n).” Calum coughed. “Happy birthday.”

There were a million things Calum wanted to say and that wasn’t necessarily at the top of his list. He mentally face palmed. Your eyebrows knit together. “Thank you?” You looked down at the bouquet of flowers in his hand. “Are those for me?” 

Calum looked down at the flower he almost forgot he was holding, too lost in your eyes to care about anything else. “Oh, yes. Yeah.” He stumbled, holding them out to you.

You took them without a word. 

“So um…” Calum started, wringing out his sweaty hands. “I was hoping I could talk to you for a minute.”

You turned around for a moment towards the chatter coming from the kitchen and then turned back to face him with a sigh. “Why should I say yes?” You didn’t look angry… just tired. 

Calum scratched the back of his neck anxiously. “You don’t owe me anything, I know that. I was hoping to apologize, if you’d let me. I know that I’m the biggest idiot on the planet and I broke your heart and there's no way I can go back and undo that, but I owe it to you to at least try to fix what I broke. You don’t have to let me, though. I wouldn’t be mad if you cursed me out or slapped me or slammed the door in my face. I deserve it. I hurt you, and I suck for that.” He took a deep breath staring at the ground.

Your eyes softened and you sighed. “Come on.” You grabbed Calum’s hand and tugged him into the house, shutting the door softly behind him.

Calum followed your lead as you stepped through the back door into the garden.

You’d planted more of the flowers you told him about months ago and Calum thought your vision was really coming to life. You pulled him to a small metal table in the corner and sat down.

Calum looked around again, taking in all you’d accomplished since you two last spoke. “It looks beautiful, (y/n).”

You sighed, proudly admiring the shrubs and greenery that surrounded you. “I needed something to take my mind off things so I kind of poured my soul into it.” You fiddled with your rings.

Calum knew he was what you needed to take your mind off of and that made him feel even worse. “What I did to you… it was unforgivable. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. I betrayed your trust and I hurt you in the worst way imaginable. That girl… it was nothing. It meant nothing.”

Calum watched you carefully as you took this in. Again, you didn’t look angry or sad — just emotionally drained. Numb. “I just… I guess I kinda just wanna know why. Was I… was I not enough?” Calum watched the tears well up that threatened to spill over and down your rosy cheeks.

He shook his head instantly. “No, no. Of course not. I spent a lot of time thinking about it because at first I didn’t even know. But I think I was just… jealous.”

You scoffed. “Jealous?” Calum blushed. “But of who?”

Calum inhaled deeply, prepared to completely embarrass himself. If it meant getting back on good terms with you. “Dean,” he muttered.

You couldn’t help but laugh. And not just chuckle — really laugh. “Dean? Dean Marshall. You were jealous of Dean Marshall?” You put a hand over your mouth to stifle the laughter. It felt nice to laugh after so many weeks of pain. 

Calum rolled his eyes playfully. “Yes, Dean Marshall. When he danced with you at the formal I was pissed.”

You stopped laughing, seeing the hurt in Calum’s soft features.

“You didn’t really think I was interested in him?... Did you?” You asked.

Calum looked down, playing with a loose thread on his trousers.

You let out a heavy sigh. “Oh, Cal. I never had any feelings for Dean.”

“Deep down, I did know that. It was some petty revenge thing in my head. I should’ve just voiced my pain and I know you would’ve reassured me. I was so dumb. I’ve never regretted anything so much in my life.” Calum finished with an exasperated breath and you smiled at his passion.

“Do you want to come in for cake, Cal?” 

Calum’s eyes shot up to read your face. You couldn’t be serious. You laughed at his eagerness and joy. “I would love to come in for cake,” Calum said easily.

You grabbed his hand, guiding him towards the back door and inside.

You ignored the series of gasps from your unsuspecting friends and found Calum a seat around the table. Nobody asked questions. They just smiled. If you were happy and safe, then they were happy too.

After some time, the sun was nearing the horizon and friends were bidding their goodbyes.

Calum hadn’t taken his eyes off you all night.

Your stomach tingled in anticipation whenever you caught his gaze.

Calum got a text from his mom saying she needed him home, so he begrudgingly headed for the door, his hand in yours.

“Happy birthday, again,” he whispered in your ear. 

“Thank you for coming today. It must’ve taken a lot of guts.” You laughed at Calum’s expression.

“You have no idea. But I'm so glad I did it.” He looked down at you fondly and you felt as if your knees might give out.

Before you could stop and think about the consequences, you were leaning closer and so was he.

Your noses barely brushed and the air around you was heating. It felt like everything between you two was leading up to this very moment — this very kiss. 

He stooped down a little lower, pressing his lips gently onto yours. You felt a rush of emotions. You had missed him all this time. You felt ready to try again - slowly building a mutual trust between you two again.

His lips folded over yours at a steady pace. It was soft and not rushed. It was perfect.

When he pulled away, your lips tingled at the absence of his. 

You were startled by the sudden applause.

You friends had gathered in the hall and watched the entire thing. You hid your face in Calum’s shoulder.

Standing in your cardigan. Kissing in my car again. Stopped at a streetlight, you know I miss you.

You slipped into Calum’s car and he smiled fondly. He hadn’t been this happy in so long.

You grabbed his sweater -- the one that had once been yours -- and felt it between your fingers. “You still have this old thing?” 

He smiled, his cheeks glowing a faint pink. He looked adorable with his curls tumbling down across his forehead. “It smells like you.”

You planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He had missed you. But he didn’t have to anymore.

[leiasfanaccount648]

The 3 Times Kenma Didn’t Get What You Wanted for Your Bday & the 1 Time He Did

(Kenma Kozume x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Like all friends, they remember what is most important to them, especially one another’s birthdays. However, Kenma seems to be struggling with finding you that perfect present year after year.

A/N: This is for the absolutely lovely @briswriting​!!! I’m so happy to call you my friend, that you got me into Animal Crossing, and I hope you have an amazing bday today <3 :)

Warnings/Contains: Fluff, birthdays, the tiniest amount of angst. Disclaimer, I did some research on the video games I mentioned in this but none of the release dates match up lol.

Word Count: 2033

Elementary School; 5th year

“Happy Birthday, (Y/N)!”

“Wait, what?”

Kenma looked up from his GameBoy as he heard people talking by the door of the classroom. He saw one of his neighbors that he had bet through Kuroo talking to some of her friends and receiving some gifts and snacks from them.

Kenma looked at the desk in front of him and saw a few more trinkets and such from people in other classes. They may not have known each other for that long, but (Y/N) was the first friend of his that actually wanted to play video games rather than volleyball like Kuroo.

(Y/N) was nice, and had great taste in games; he would gladly call her his friend. So what do friends of a couple months get one another for their birthdays?

“Good morning, Kenma!” (Y/N) brought him out from his thoughts as she walked over and sat down at her desk, facing him with a bright smile. “What’re you playing?” She peered over his desk to try and catch a glimpse at what game was on the screen.

“I, um,” Kenma glanced down at his GameBoy as Pokemon: Red and Blue was still playing. He didn’t get to answer as (Y/N) already saw the screen with a gasp.

“Are you about to play the battle against Professor Oak?”

Kenma couldn’t explain it, but he felt his heart jump at her knowledge of the game. He knew that she played it, but he thought that she had just gotten it a couple weeks ago. “Yeah, I am.” He smiled shyly and quickly paused the game so he could talk to her properly. “Happy birthday, by the way. I’m sorry, but I didn’t get you anything.”

(Y/N) shook her head, waving her hands in front of her as well. “No, no! It’s totally fine! Trust me, you didn’t have to get me anything.” She smiled, moving her hair out of her face shyly. “Honestly what I keep getting from my friends gets to be too much of a hassle.”

Kenma smiled a little, finding her reasoning quite amusing; however he could tell during lunch she definitely enjoyed eating the cookies that someone had made her. He tried to think of something he could do for her, but he trusted her word to not worry too much. Besides, there was always next year.

--------

Middle School; 3rd year

It was late, almost too late to Kenma’s liking as he had just finished volleyball practice and wanted to do nothing than go home and finally get some rest before the weekend started tomorrow. However, he had one last thing to do.

Kenma had been hearing (Y/N) raving about the game for weeks, and he had managed to get it pre-ordered and delivered the day that it came out. Now he stood outside her apartment, hoping that she would like it.

He texted her to come to her door, and it was obvious that she was confused, but did so nonetheless. She smiled as she saw him, about to greet him, but he beat her to it, holding out a small, wrapped box for her to take.

“Happy birthday, (Y/N).”

“Oh my god, Kenma you didn’t!” (Y/N) grinned wide as she noticed the shape of the wrapped box her friend had handed her. She opened it without hesitation, expecting to see Pokemon X and Y, but instead saw Animal Crossing: New Leaf. She felt touched that he remembered how much she wanted that game, but still looked up at Kenma with sorrow.

“Kenma, I am so sorry,” she laughed nervously, starting to feel guilty. “But my parents got me the game already along with a new 3DS.” (Y/N) knew that there was no way that he could have known, but she felt guilty nonetheless over the fact that Kenma had spent his money to get her the game.

Kenma on the other hand felt nothing but embarrassment. He realized his mistake and that he should have asked her parents if she was going to be getting the game. “I’m sorry. I should have asked if there was more than just that game that you wanted.”

Like she did back in elementary school, she shook her head. “No, you’re fine, Kenma.” She laughed softly to try and lighten the mood, but she could still tell that Kenma felt awkward about getting her a game that she had been gifted not 3 hours ago. Then she smiled. “Wait! Now that you have the game, we can play it together!”

Kenma tilted his head a little, confused. “I thought it wasn’t a multiplayer game.”

“It’s not, but we can still keep up with one another’s progress and stuff. It’ll be like when we play Pokemon and see who can defeat the boss quicker!”

Although it wasn’t Kenma’s ideal choice of game style, he still kept the game and played with (Y/N) both online and while they hung out together. Soon enough, he became addicted and got a whole level ahead of (Y/N) despite their agreement to build their islands and such together.

--------

High School; 2nd Year

It was raining after school, and Kuroo had decided to cancel practice due to the weather scheduled to get worse throughout the evening. Kenma felt grateful for two reasons. One, he could go home and finish his homework early before playing some more Animal Crossing. Two, he could see (Y/N) before she had her club and give her the batch of his mom’s homemade brownies that he promised her a few days ago.

Kenma was on his way towards the room where he knew she would be at, however he didn’t expect her to be sitting outside the door. He saw her phone in hand along with her backpack leaning against her. Then he caught sight of her face and rushed over as soon as he saw the tears in her eyes. “(Y/N)?”

(Y/N) looked up at the sound of her name, instinctively reaching up to wipe below her eyes before putting on the best smile she could muster at the last second. “Kenma!” She chuckled and stood up quickly to straighten herself out. “What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at practice?”

“Kuroo cancelled it due to the weather planning to get worse. So I decided to bring you the brownies since you said you wanted them for your birthday.” Kenma reached into his bag and pulled out a small container that contained the sweets. (Y/N) didn’t say another word, just stepping forward and bringing him into a hug.

Kenma froze as she did so, not sure how to react. “(Y-Y/N)?”

“Just,” she took a deep breath to keep from letting out any tears. “Let me have this, please?”

Kenma looked at her, wondering what it was that was causing her to be so upset, but he knew that she would tell him on her own time. For now, all he did was hug her and he practically felt the tension and nerves in her body melt away, ignoring how his heart raced rapidly due to her being so close and for so long.

That year, Kenma was the only one who had remembered (Y/N)’s birthday.

--------

College; 1st year

It was a couple days before (Y/N)’s birthday and Kenma was stressing beyond belief. Ever since high school, Kuroo he had begun to realize that he had developed feelings for her and he never knew how to express them into words or actions. 

He remembered the day that Kuroo pointed it out to him because they were playing an online game together and Kenma had managed to lose against both him and Bokuto. Needless to say it was obvious that something was bothering him and Kuroo needed to know (even if he already did).

Either way, he wanted to do what he thought would make her happy for her birthday. Some had been flops while others he felt like haven’t been the right gift, but he still did what he could.

This year however, he wanted to know exactly what she wanted.

The two of them were in the middle of playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons when Kenma thought he’d just ask via the game while they were fishing on his island.

‘btw, what do u want 4 ur bday?’

Since they were at different universities and couldn’t physically see each other, (Y/N) assumed that he would just craft/give her something in the game.

‘a cat to cuddle & love 4ever’

Kenma chuckled at her reply, smiling to himself as he typed out one himself, but (Y/N) added another response.

‘even though it’s not in the game XD’

Oh.

Kenma froze for a moment as he realized how (Y/N) interpreted his question. But he still got an answer and wasn’t going to take it for granted. He quickly got on his laptop and pulled up Amazon. Lucky for him, he found a cat plushie that he knew (Y/N) would like that would arrive the day before her birthday.

On the fateful day, Kenma headed to her dorm as he knew she was spending her birthday on a different day with her family and would most likely be cooped up side playing games (much like himself). Once he messaged her to come outside and was met with a ‘read’ text, he knew she was on her way down to greet him. When (Y/N) saw him with the stuffed cat in his arms, she ran over and hugged him tightly as she could.

Kenma almost lost his footing and fell, but he managed to stay standing and hug her back. “I know what you said you wanted a cat, but I didn’t want you to get kicked out of your dorm.”

(Y/N) laughed, shaking her head at his words before pulling away. She also took the cat plushie from him to get a better look at it before holding it in her arms. She smiled shyly at him. “Kenma, I was talking about you.”

“Wait, what?” Kenma’s eyes widened, repeating the words she said a couple days ago in his head. He felt his cheeks start to turn pink as (Y/N) spoke up again.

“All I wanted was to spend my birthday with you.” She glanced to the side, starting to feel flustered. “You’ve been my best friend for years and you’re so nice and considerate, not to mention cute,” she giggled, pausing briefly. “It’s practically impossible for anyone not to be around you and,” she met his gaze again. “I like you, Kenma.”

Kenma didn’t know when he did or what made him think it was a good idea, but he reached out with one hand and held the back of her head as he pulled her in for a kiss, which she gladly returned a second later. Once he pulled away, he smiled shyly as though silently apologizing for being so straightforward and sudden.

“Uh,” Kenma cleared his throat, letting go of her so she could have some space. “Would you like to go get some dinner?” It was obvious that he wasn’t sure what to say or do at the moment.”

(Y/N) simply shook her head, reaching for his hand and leading him into the building in which she stayed at. “I’d much rather spend my birthday eating takeout and playing video games with you. How does that sound?”

“But, it’s your birthday.” Kenma followed her to the elevator, still holding her hand.

“Exactly, so that means we’re going to do what I want.” (Y/N) giggled and kissed his cheek before stepping inside the elevator with him and pressing the button for her floor. “And I want to cuddle you while we eat and play Animal Crossing together.”

Kenma smiled, squeezing her hand to let her know his thoughts on her plans for the rest of the evening. “Sounds like a plan.” He was thankful that he decided to bring his Nintendo Switch with him.

“Oh, and that means that I want all of the turnips you bought yesterday, too.”

“Wait what?”

[hanniiesuckle17]

Remember I Love You

A/n: This is my first time writing for our Lee Know! So I hope you like it! I adjusted the age a little bit so the hate would be a little more realistic I hope that's okay :)  (this is not edited btw sorry if there are spelling errors, I type fast)

Requested by: @petalskook​ (thank you for requesting bb!!!)

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: mentions of hate? nothing else maybe cussing?.....

Member: Lee Minho

Summary: Being a Soloist attracts a lot of attention. The focus now seems to be on the age gap between you and your boyfriend Minho. While it seems small to him, you can’t help but focus on what the media and fans are saying. Minho has to remind you what he sees instead of what the public sees.

Genre: angst, fluff, romance, idol!au

The green room was surprisingly hot. Sweat dripped down the back of your neck as you looked up at the TV screen. The MCs were commenting on the stage you just did and clips of you dancing with your back up dancers showed behind them. “Miss Y/n, you got a text message.” A staff member said handing you your phone. 

You smiled seeing a text from your boyfriend, Minho. He was set to go on stage a few acts after you but had to stay with his members. Quickly you responded before flipping over to Twitter to post about the stage. You were shocked to find your name already trending. 

Curious, you slid your finger over to the tag and scrolled through the first couple of posts. They seemed to all be about you and Minho. Your relationship was no secret. The two of you had been completely honest since the beginning. 

I can’t believe our Minho is dating such an old Ajhumma 

Fans Wonder About the Age Gap Between Stray Kids Lee Know and Soloist Y/n

Y/n should just stick to people her own age and leave Minho to us

She is way too old for someone like Minho. Her career is pretty much at its end soon anyway. #CancelY/n 

Isn’t she embarrassed to be dating someone younger and more successful than her?

Running a hand through your hair, you tossed your phone onto the couch beside you. The age gap wasn’t that big of a deal, was it? You thought nothing of it and you assumed Minho didn’t mind. You weren’t that much older than him. There was hardly a year's distance between your ages. 

“Y/n, do you want to stay and watch the stages or are you going back to the company?” Your manager asked you with a busy but kind smile. You thought about it for a moment, your eyes glancing at the phone once more. For some reason, you just felt like hiding from the world under your covers. Your shoulders felt oddly heavy now and your chest felt like there was an invisible weight on it.

“I think I’m just going to go home if my schedule is done. Will you tell Minho that I wasn’t feeling well and that I am sorry I missed his stage?”

Your manager smiled and checked your schedule before giving you the okay to leave. After giving the stylists your stage clothes back you changed and hopped in the car that would take you home. The radio played softly as one of your security detail drove you home. Your ears picked up Minho’s name mentioned.

“Oh Yes! He was on the show last week right?”

“Apparently, his girlfriend is going viral on SNS.”

“She is a little old for him.”

“She is so fierce onstage; do you think she makes him do everything at home too?”

“Oh, Noona! Why? Can’t I choose what film to watch??” The host said in a mocking voice.

“I could never date a woman older than me. I would hate not feeling masculine like that.”

You sighed and tried to ignore the jokes they were making and stared at the passing city scenery. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t get their annoying voice out of your head. “Joonhee, can you please turn off the radio.” He nodded politely and switched off the radio. You rode the rest of the way home in silence. 

You could usually handle the hate about you or your relationship, but this was just intense for one day. You sighed seeing photographers outside of your apartment. “Should I escort you inside?” Joonhee asked, ready to get out of the car.

“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you, Joonhee!” You put on a fake smile and thanked him before gathering your bag and exiting the vehicle. Thankful you left on your stage makeup, you waved to some of the reporters you knew. However, there were quite a few journalists shouting at you for a comment on the articles about you and Minho. Choosing to stay silent you simply smiled and walked into your building.

Thank goodness for doormen and security. This was just too much for one day. You glanced at your phone as you waited for the elevator to climb it’s way to the eighth floor. No text from Minho; which wasn’t unusual. He was probably performing now and had schedules later. However there several notifications from Twitter and Instagram. 

The ding of the elevator brought you back to reality. Finally, you could be safe in your own apartment. Away from reporters and rumors and people who hated you for no reason. Having had enough of the world, you placed your phone on the kitchen counter and shut it off fully. 

With tired and sluggish movements you wiped off your makeup in the bathroom mirror. Your eyes stopped on your forehead seeing a couple wrinkles you hadn’t noticed before. Most likely from stress but your mind couldn’t help but remind you that you were aging faster than Minho.

With yet another heavy sigh you threw the hand towel in the sink and flipped off the lights. Your heavy body flopped onto the couch and stayed there for the next ten minutes. Eventually finding the motivation to do so, you reached for the remote and turned on the television to a random channel. Some drama you had seen probably a million times was playing. 

The hours passed by as if time was moving through tar or glue. You watched as the shadows grew longer across your apartment floor and the sun slowly disappeared, leaving you in a dark apartment. You were hungry but not hungry enough to get up to go to the fridge. You were cold, but not cold enough to go get a blanket. So instead you sat there on your couch, staring mindlessly at the TV. 

The front door opened with a loud noise and your boyfriend charged into the room, his brows furrowed. “Hey! Not answering messages and calls is my thing! I’ve been texting and calling you for the past three hours. What’s the deal?” You blinked as he turned on a lamp, eyes not used to the light from being in the dark. 

“Sorry...”

He stared at you in disbelief. Sorry? That was all he got? You just didn’t really feel like talking or doing anything really. You hated to admit it, but the comments had gotten you pretty depressed. He watched you shift on the couch under his unrelenting gaze. 

“Is it your time of the month or something? What’s up with you?”

“Minho- just leave me alone. I have had enough of today.” Having reached your already short limit, you got up off the couch and headed to the bedroom. His grip on your arm stopped you. 

“Y/n-...what’s wrong? Tell me.” 

His voice softened and he looked a little concerned. His thumb brushed the skin of your arm softly. It was Minho’s way of saying: I’m comforting you but I’m too badass and tsundere to actually do anything so I’ll do this instead.

“Minho, I’m not in the mood. Just go do your own stuff.” You said pulling away from your boyfriend. Before you could even reach the hallway he called out again.

“Y/n L/n, if you don’t tell me what the hell is wrong in the next ten seconds I’m withholding sex for the next three weeks.”

You turned slowly and rose an eyebrow at his words.

“Minho- honey, you are in no position to make that demand.”

He sighed when you turned back around and entered the bedroom. Starting to get a little frustrated, he followed and shut the door behind him. Your back was to him as you sat on your side of the bed. He noticed how heavy your shoulders looked and how tired you seemed. You were so full of energy when he saw you perform. What was wrong?

The sounds of his footsteps padded across the room. He kneeled in front of you, taking your hands in his. Your eyes stayed focused on your lap, not wanting to look at him. “I’m doing my best not to be frustrated with you because I know you are hurting. I’m trying to help, my love.” His voice was gentle as he stared at your sorrowful face. You let a few more minutes of silence pass before deciding Minho wasn’t going to give up anytime soon. 

“Do you think I’m too old?”

The question kind of shocked him. He definitely had not expected this to be what was wrong. Were you too old? What kind of bullshit was that? You started to pull your hands away when he stayed silent. Quickly, he grabbed them back and laced his fingers with yours

“Too old for what? To win another Song of the Year? No. To order off the kid's menu? Yes.”

He smiled seeing your lips threaten a tiny grin. “I’m being serious, Minho. Am I too old for you.” He looked in your eyes, a sad smile coming over his face. It hurt him that you would say something let alone believe something like that.

“Why would you say such a thing?”

“All these articles and posts are saying I’m too old for you. That dating an older woman makes you less of a man or something. Do I really do that?”

Minho scoffed and sat next to you on the bed. “Y/n, we are both in our early twenties. You are not too old for anyone. I would still love you if you were thirty-two and I was twenty.”

He sighed, seeing your gaze drift away from him. He pulled your hands closer, making your attention come back to him. “Don’t listen to them, pabo. Listen to me. I love you. No matter what. Even when you don’t answer all thirteen of my calls.” He smiled finally seeing you laugh. 

“So- Repeat after me. I,”

“I,”

“Y/n L/n,”

“Y/n L/n.”

“Will never ever question my incredibly hot boyfriend’s love and affection ever again because of internet douchebags.”

He smiled seeing you fully laugh, eyes sparkling again. You sighed, this time with relief as you looked back at your boyfriend. Your kind, somewhat unorthodox boyfriend. “I promise.” It was his turn to laugh when you kissed his cheeks in thanks.

Requests are open my lovelies! Just send an ask or message me!

Masterlist

[thegalleonsnest]

Wiggle’s Muse - Short Excerpt turned into a FanFic

Yo, so, I wanted to share a small snippet of a future project I’m working on (while also delaying my current art projects). What I’ve written out here in this post was originally in a format not meant for professional writing purposes, but I said “eh, why the hell not,” and written it out in sort of a short fanfic format for you guys to read. This project btw, is not a fanfic (had to make that clear). What I am working on is a very large scale project for myself and is still in the blocking out/rough draft phases. This right here is probably my most fleshed out scene I’ve written out, and feels pretty complete as it’s own thing. Honestly, I’d appreciate the feedback if any of ya’ll found this interesting! 

Also I’m putting this in a tumblr post because I don’t have an AO3 or fanfiction account, and this is already too short for it anyway. Read the excerpt below

In front of the camera lenses, multiple grumpuses walk back and forth discussing a matter of topics but most importantly, where was Wiggle?

"Has anyone gotten ahold of Wiggle yet? She was supposed to be here hours ago,” a gruff voice coming from out of frame says. “We’ve tried calling her for over an hour, but we got nothing,” says another off camera, “do you think we should reschedule-” before they could finish, the studio doors bust open with a loud thud echoing the studio room. A tall, short armed grumpus with a boa stumbles along the room carrying an oddly shaped banjo.

“There she is,” said the gruff voiced grump, “Wiggle, whatever you got going on, you better do it now cause we got a meeting with investors in half an hour!” From the blurry view of a slightly out of frame Wiggle, she barely registered what the grump said. In a stumble, she walks to the center of the camera’s view & shakes her head, almost slurring her words, “Doooon’t worry, Darling, we’ll get you a new vest later.” “What, no, wait, that’s not what I-” before another word could be said, Wiggle readies her banjo and strikes a quick pose before strumming the strings like her life depended on it.

It didn’t take longer than a few seconds before the crew sprung into action, setting the proper lightning, mics and cameras around her. Her rhythm and measures became a lot more stable, catchy even, and then she broke into song. The next set of lyrics would become an instant, regrettable classic. 

It’s not long before the VHS tape stutters and stops, showing mostly static. A magenta furred Grumpus with some hair covering a part of eye, hits the eject button, takes out the tape and turns off the tv. “Girl, you were a right mess there!” She said with a giggle. “Tell me about it, Vrittany...” Wiggle said frustratingly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And you’re telling me you can’t come up with anything better than that? Come on now!” “I wish I was lying, but I’m not. No matter what I come up with, nothing is topping whatever the heck my walking coma came up with instead!” Wiggle grabs her mug of coffee and takes a longing sip.

The two sit across from one another at the coffee bar. The aroma of that day’s set of cocoa beans waft through the cafe as most of the outside lamps fill out the darker spots inside. The place is nearly empty besides them, and a single muted green furred occupant sitting at a booth at the opposite end of the cafe, drawing away in his sketchpad.

“So, whatcha gonna do?” Vrittany asked sarcastically, “Stay awake for another week? Get inspired again? Hehe.” Wiggle sets her mug down, and answers, “I did try that again, but in style I fell asleep comfortably on a couch in the lobby”. Vrittany looked a bit stunned. “You’re kidding?! You’re crazy!” “Not crazy, Vrittany,” she takes another sip of her coffee before striking a pose in her high stool seat, bellowing out her voice. “Just creatiiiivly driveeeen~” “Whatever you say, darling,” Vrittany says before turning around to her bar’s sink. She cleans several mugs and glasses with gusto while preparing one last pot of coffee, enough for a single cup for later.

Vrittany takes off her apron and hangs it on the wayside of the counter as she walks around to take a seat next to Wiggle. After situating herself, she puts a paw on Wiggle’s shoulder. “Listen, pretty sure this is just a rut you’re stuck in right now,” she says. “Doesn’t every artist go through that every now and then?” Wiggle turns her head toward Vrittany, “Well..yeah, but this is different,” she desperately says. “I can’t let a song I made in my sleep be the best thing I’ve ever made! I know I can make something that’ll shake the world more than whatever ‘Do The Wiggle’ was.” 

Vrittany pulls back her paw from Wiggle to put on her best thinking cap. As deeply in thought as she was, her face immediately relaxes into a deadpan expression, “Have ya tried singing from the heart?” Wiggle cracks a smile, “HA, if only that’s how it works! It takes a musical genius to write a hit song in show biz, not just some field day with my feelings.” “Eh, worth a shot. Got any other plans?” “I’m still trying to figure that out. I need some kind of inspiration...almost like a-”

Before she could finish her thought, they both caught a glance at the muted green furred grump who walked up to them. He mustered up the words and said, “E-excuse me, you’re Miss Wiggle, right?” Wiggle turned in her seat to get a better look at the young Grumpus. She could tell he was nervous, clutching his sketchbook in his arms rather tightly. She quickly put on a more relaxed front to help calm things down, while also still showing off a bit of her excited side. “Why yes I am, Darling,” she said enthusiastically. “And I can tell you must be a fan of mine.” “Y-yeah...!” The green grump looked a little more relaxed, but still stiff in the shoulders. “Hey now, no need to be so nervous. I always got time for my fans.” “Thank you, Miss Wiggle. Um…” “No need to finish that thought, Darling, I know what you’re about to ask and I’m happy to oblige!”

Before the young man could stop to say something, Wiggle pulls out one of her many professional hand out photos that she has, and quickly signs with her autograph before handing it to him. “O-Oh, thank you, Miss, but that’s not what I was going to s-say.” he sheepishly says. “Really? Not an autograph,” Wiggle says surprisingly. “It’s usually the first thing fans ask of me.” “Sorry, I just...I wanted to show you this sketch I made…” 

The nervous grumpus slowly turns his sketchbook around to reveal a fully sketched art piece depicting a stylized Wiggle singing her heart out at the bar with Vrittany hanging out in the background cheering her on. He hands it to Wiggle to give them a closer look. It was still somewhat messy, showing a few guidelines and early roughed out shapes, but for what it was, it was still impressive to the two girls.

“Woah, that’s pretty rad!” Vrittany yelled out, leaning out from her seat trying to get a closer look. Wiggle was pretty stun, gasping at the sight of such a piece of artwork. “Darling, you drew this?! Just now,” Wiggle asked in awe. “Yeah! I was listening to some of your music and then you came in and sat down. It made me wanna draw you as fast as I could,” the green grumps says excitedly before rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry if it’s still a little messy looking though…” “Don’t be, because it is beeeaautifuuul~” “T-thank you so much, Miss Wiggle! T-that means a lot to m-me!” the grumpus says while his face lights up red from the praise. “You’re like an inspiration to me.” “Really now? Like a muse? All I do is sing the night away, Darling. You draw little masterpieces like this from me?”

As Wiggle continues to be enthralled by the young man and his work, Vrittany notices the coffee pot had finished brewing. She gets up from her seat and go back behind the counter to finish her last cup for the night. Wiggle and the green grump continue their conversation.

“W-well kind of,” says the grump, “it’s a bunch of music that inspires me when I draw. A lot of your stuff is so upbeat and fun, it gives me lots of different ideas to pump out!” Wiggle looks back, almost flabbergasted. “I’m...honestly a bit stunned that I had that kind of impact on you, Darling,” she says, almost with a melancholy tone, “...heh, kind of forget sometimes I do make some kind of impression on grumps like you.” She looks back down at the sketchbook, entranced by the creativity that sparked in the moment. That dazzling moment where it all clicked...where could she find that, when someone else can find it in her?

After an awkward minute of silence, the young grump spoke up and said, “If you like, you can keep the sketch page, Miss Wiggle?” Wiggle snapped her head back up from the sketchbook to the green fuzzball. “W-wait really? Are you sure you wanna give up this piece of art?” said Wiggle worryingly. “It’s no problem at all,” said the green grump proudly. “I already took a picture of it to save for later. I’m gonna make a painted version of it online later! Besides, it’ll make me happy if you kept it, since I was going to give it to you anyway.” “Oh Darling, you’re nothing more than a sweet one now, aren’t you? I’ll gladly keep it!” “Thank you so much, Miss Wiggle!”

Wiggle hands the sketchbook back to the green grumpus and he tears out the sketch. “No, Darling, thank you,” Wiggle says ecstatically. Vrittany returns from behind the bar with a to-go cup in hand, saying “Here’s your order, kid.”  “Oh, thank you, Vrittany. How much was it again,” the green grump asked. “Eh, don’t worry about it. Don’t feel like counting change. It’s on the house.” “O-oh you sure?” “You wanna change my mind?” “Don’t think I can, so thank you!” The green grump turns back to Wiggle and says “It was so nice meeting you in person, Miss Wiggle!”

“The pleasure is all mine, Dar-,” Wiggle catches herself before she realizes something. “Actually, what was your name?” “It’s Grite, Grite Tillsland!” Wiggle lets a genuine soft smile grow on her face. She felt a lot more at ease and happier knowing her new friend was much more relax and happy overall. She reached out her paw for a handshake, and Grite reciprocated.

“The pleasure’s mine, Grite, Darling.”

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter Five:Sensory Integration 1

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: A Friday full of teasing for Shane ends in a steak dinner with a blue-eyed beefcake. If you don’t finish this chapter hungry for one or the other, if not both, I haven’t done my job! Lol! (For inspo on Sy’s date outfit, think back to that one Men’s Health photoshoot Hen did and just imagine his hair shorter. That’s what I did. lol!) 

Click me to catch up on the story and other stuff by Hannah!

Word Count: 4k (This date got away from me! Lol! And it’s only half over!)

Warnings: Mostly this is utter fluffy fluff, but I’m gonna put the following warnings on, anyway. Language, mature themes, alcohol consumption, borderline food worship (Shane may have a problem, I definitely do! Lol!) Also, pretty much every Sy fic I’ve read says that his given name is Logan, so...should his given name be used henceforth, that’s what I’m going with because it seems the most cannon and I like it and if it’s good enough for Wolverine...

Author’s Note: So, guys, this is crazy. First off, the reaction and love Sy and Shane’s story has been getting has taken me completely off guard and utterly made my day/week. (I’m serious. Every note makes my heart do a happy dance. A like, a reblog, a comment. It all means the world to me. Thank you for your feedback and for sharing this story.) Second, YOUR FEEDBACK MATTERS TO ME! Because initially, idk what I was thinking. I was going to skim over their first date and like…not write it…and I kept getting notes as I worked on further chapters to the tune of “can’t wait for this date!” and I thought…hmm…well, the date must be written! So, here it is, the first half-ish, of Shane and Sy’s first date. I hope it’s all you were expecting…or at least half of all you were expecting! Lol! More to come in part two of Sens Integ! (BTW, fun fact, these chapter titles are all named after treatments that therapists actually use on their patients sometimes! Lol!)

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee @bloodyinspiredfuck @agniavateira @oddsnendsfanfics @omgkatinka@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland @speakerforthedead0@tumblnewby @suavechops

Friday morning. She was up with the sun. And a bit before, really. Today was the day. Her first date with Sy. She’d taken extra care in the shower, less clumsy, thank God! She shaved her legs because she had chosen to wear a knee-length blue dress with a scoop neck and cap sleeves in wrinkle-proof Jersey knit since it would be in her tote bag all day. She was not shaving because she thought anything would happen tonight with Sy. She didn’t think she was ready.

That is, she was ready, but, only physically. Emotionally, mentally, she would need to prepare for him a bit longer before taking him as a lover. She hoped he was on the same page.

He had an appointment in the early afternoon. He greeted her with his warm “Hello, sunshine.” Following it up by telling her how pretty she looked today, causing blush to burn in her cheeks. She’d reciprocated, even though he was in his typical tee and shorts look. It was still true. They got on their usual bikes to warm up for about 15 minutes, and then took to the leg press to try to advance his strengthening.

“I’m really proud of your progress! You wouldn’t have been able to do this much weight two weeks ago!” She encouraged him.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Now, we are going to do some drills next. Simple ones, but they aren’t going to be fun for you. I’ve chosen to do them on your last day of the week for a reason. You may be sore. Ice and whatever you take OTC if you must. Ibuprofen or acetaminophen. But try the ice first. It shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Okay.” He conceded, dejected.

“Stretching afterward.” She promised.

“Okay!” He pepped up. She knew he just loved an excuse to have her hands on him.

Later, as he lay on the mat, sweaty from the exertion of the drills, with her up there with him having to use her whole body to leverage the proper stretch out of his hip flexors, she felt the heavy weight of his gaze. She tried to look anywhere but those sapphire eyes below her. They were too vulnerable. She couldn’t handle that right now. Not here.

“Shane?” Dammit, he was gonna make her.

“Hmm?” She looked down at him, smile meeting smile.

“I just…” he couldn’t seem to get out the words. But she thought she understood what he was feeling.

“I know, Sy. I know.” She gently patted his outer thigh where she had been bracing her hand for the stretch, and let his leg back down, while dismounting the mat, as well.

“Well, that’s about the hour. Any questions before I let you go?”

“Are you as excited for tonight as I am?” He asked. She chuckled. She couldn’t imagine him being more excited than she was!

“Yes! Hehe! But I still kinda meant about therapy, Sy.”

“Oh, right. Are you excited to finish up with your therapy patients at therapy today so I can pick you up from the therapy clinic and take you on our date?”

“Just because you say therapy 20 times doesn’t make it about therapy.” She laughed.

“Okay, I do have a question for you, since I’m here.”

“Shoot.” She encouraged.

He stood and held her face, taking it into a kiss so devastatingly and painfully tender, she could not process what to do next. She was leaning toward fainting. But then tackling him onto the mat again seemed an attractive option. She settled for placing her hands on his waist, ready to control the situation as need arose. But after a brief moment of slight deepening, he broke away, still holding her face in his large strong hands.

“Ahem. That’s a good question. Why don’t I have you a reply later this evening?”

“Sounds good to me, sunshine.” He grinned widely, and waved a quiet goodby to her.

She walked to the doorway of the small room to watch him walk out…his gait still uneven from his injury but improving enough that she could tell he once took very…confident strides. She could almost picture it. She sighed, forgetting herself for a moment until Anita came up behind her walking her elderly patient with a gait belt and front wheeled walker.

"Is that a bit of drool on your chin, Shane?" she said quietly, but still startling the younger therapist from her reverie.

"Oh, uh, hey." she checked her chin, absentmindedly, late in getting the joke, and rolled her eyes. "Funny, Nita. Do you need anything?"

"Nope, Gladys and I are just headed to the gym for a few minutes on the NuStep to round out her treatment." Nita grinned at Shane.

"Who was that handsome young man that just left, Shane?" Gladys asked her, as women of her…demographic tended to do.

"He's just one of our patient's Miss Gladys. But I can't tell you his name. It's against the privacy policy." She explained.

"Oh, okay. Well, if I was a few years younger, I'd let ya give him MY name…and my telephone number." she smirked with pride in herself. All three ladies giggled.

"I'm pretty sure he's spoken for, Gladys." Anita broke the news to her randy patient, smirking at her coworker.

"Shame! Well, that's one lucky young lady!" Gladys hobbled on with the walker as Anita cued her not to let the device get too far ahead of her feet. Shane was beet red from the whole interaction. At least she wouldn't have to wear blush tonight.

Her day finally finished, notes done, and final communications sent,  the most important (in her opinion, probably not her employer's) message of them all was next. The text to Sy that he could head toward the clinic to pick her up.

She touched up her eye makeup, applied another coat of mascara, and dabbed on some of her favorite lipstick in a deep red that complimented her skin tone. She also spritzed on a bit of her favorite Armani perfume before slipping on her dress and black ballet flats and sliding on a pair of simple hoop earrings. She'd had her hair pulled up all day in a clip, so it should be pleasantly wavy when she took it down…and with a bit of flipping, shaking out, and finger diffusing, it was.

She looked in the mirror. She was ready.

Was she ready? She examined herself in the full length mirror in the empty locker room at the clinic. The dress and the shoes suddenly seemed all wrong, both together and as individual pieces for the occasion. She looked great, it wasn't that…but…was it right for tonight? Should she cancel? Was she being ridiculous? Clearly she was, as she'd already sent the message telling Sy he could come get her. But the closer she got to being ready to go, the less ready she felt. Those butterflies were suddenly clawing at her esophagus, disrupting the bile in her stomach, and threatening to choke off her air supply. They were no longer pleasantly fluttering. She felt like she had a boot against her windpipe.

She was snapped out of the panic attack when she heard her phone go off. A message from Sy.

Your chariot, m'lady. Should I come in and get ya?

She grinned like a lunatic. How could she have considered calling tonight off?

Nay, m'lord, verily the gates be locked. I shall use the rear exit and meet thee around yonder forsooth.

Wow, you ran with that one. *laughing in tears emoji*

I have that tendency. Lol. *monocle wearing emoji*

She grabbed her bags, walked out the back door, and tossed the one that wasn't her purse into her vehicle, which was parked nearby and walked around to the front. He was standing on the sidewalk near that edge of the building.

The sun was just setting, and the light from it hit him so bewitchingly that it took away her breath. Not in the frightening way of the panic attack she'd just had, but in the nice way, like right before you surface from a deep dive and you know the sweet relief of oxygen is imminent. She assessed his ensemble with approval. Black books, sleek dark blue jeans, and a sapphire v-neck polo that even in the low light of near dusk made his blue eyes dance with vibrant intensity against his fading tan. His hair was starting to grow out ever so slightly, but it was still very close cropped. His beard, she could tell, had been finely groomed, combed, and styled. He looked…well, she'd never looked up the word "handsome" in the dictionary, but she imagined it would describe the image before her quite succinctly. And alternatively, Sy's image could be used as an illustration in the reference book, itself.

The best part, though, was the look on his face when he saw her.

She felt like he'd never properly looked at her, perhaps. Maybe he wasn't expecting a dress, or loose hair, or red lips. Or maybe it was a combo of the whole Date Shane package he was seeing before him. As his eyes beheld her, he almost looked confused. As if she was a stand-in. Or maybe an alien. Some body-snatcher. Only he wasn't frightened. She was having a hard time working out his expression as she'd really never seen it before, and particularly, never aimed in her direction. He said one word.

"Wow." It was reverent. Not a whisper. But barely a decibel above.

Again, her cheeks required no artificial pigmentation.

"Hey. You look…you certainly scrub up good, mister." she giggled nervously, feeling immensely awkward at her inability to properly compliment the chiseled image of Adonis before her. His every muscle hugged to perfection by the fabric covering it. How did you even begin to tell such perfection how perfect it was?

"You…Shane, I don't remember the last time I saw anyone look so beautiful." he frowned, as if trying to recall, then giving up with a smile, and leaning in to kiss her cheek. He lingered a moment to hug her, hold her as the day faded, breathe her in. She did the same. He was freshly showered and wearing cologne, as he often did, but it rarely hit her so solidly as it did tonight. She loved this scent. Woody, but earthy, with notes of bergamot, a kind of musky scent similar to amber, but more masculine, and something spicy that she loved. The combination exploded like an olfactory fireworks display.

The shirt was an unthinkably soft cotton (blended she thought perhaps with kitten, she could not stop touching it.) and the warmth of him radiated into her as his chest rose and fell over the course of his numerous breaths as they stood there holding each other and enjoying this feast for the senses.

"You ready for supper?" he asked, a faint but distinct rumble from his abdomen indicating that he most certainly was.

"Yes." she smiled up at him as he took her hand in his and led her to his truck. A Ford F150, the same sapphire blue as his shirt and his eyes. She was sensing a pattern, here. It wasn't the newest vehicle, but he had taken immaculate care of it. She felt shame for her own treatment of her Explorer, Bessie, which often functioned as storage shed, trash can, and sometimes, hotel, when she felt like a road trip on a shoestring budget. He walked her to the passenger side, opened the door for her, and helped her in, as the truck sat a bit higher than what she was used to.

"So, I have us a table saved at this great steakhouse just down the road. And then, it's supposed to be a nice night, I thought we could take a walk by the lake?"

It sounded perfect to her. Quiet and simple.

"Amazing. As long as your knee is up for a walk?"

"I've got all weekend to rest before getting tortured again." he smirked at her as he pulled the truck out of the parking lot and on the main road toward the interstate. "B'sides, who better to have with me if I start hurtin' than my PT?"

The emphasis he placed on the possessive pronoun, claiming her as HIS PT sent a delighted shiver through her that she blamed on the AC, which he promptly turned down.

He had his Spotify shuffling Kings of Leon at a low volume as they conversed lightly and pleasantly. Since it was an earlier model, even well equipped as it was, it wasn't quite ready for auxiliary or Bluetooth sound, so he'd bought one of those radio receivers that tune into an unused frequency and connect to your phone or iPod. She'd retrofitted her 2003 Ford Explorer in a similar fashion.

They were both caught a bit off guard when "Sex on Fire" came on, and tried valiantly to keep talking. But it was hard to hear anything but those lyrics. Singing of exhibitionism and dangerous sex acts that were definitely moving violations…and simply the sex being on fire. She was thankful, for once, that this song that she'd always found catchy without paying much attention to the actual lyrics, was now fading into the night as they pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.

She remembered to wait for him to get the door for her, even though it had been ages since she'd been on a date or had any kind of romance whatsoever. He helped her down from her perch, giving her a gentlemanly moment to adjust her skirt before taking her hand and leading her into the building.

He opened the door and led her in by that lumbar lordosis that made everyone tremble and swoon. She was no exception just because she knew that part of your back was not actually called "the small" and she got perturbed when she heard it referred to as such.

"Welcome to Mark's, how can we help you?" the host greeted warmly.

"Reservation for Syverson." Sy piped up. She was used to being the voice in these situations. She was thankful not to have to for once. It was a small thing, but it was still nice.

"Right this way, folks." he grabbed two large menus, a mid sized one, and a small one, and led them to a cozy but still spacious two-top in a quiet corner of the dining area. The warm light was low and ambient, and there were real kerosene lamps on the tables, which she loved. It had the rustic ambiance of a cabin with all the refinement of any four+ star restaurant she'd ever been to. Not that she'd been to many.

"Here you are, the table you requested, and your menus. Have a look at them, and Katie will be out soon to answer questions and take your orders."

As he walked away, Sy pulled her chair out for her, and aided her sitting. His gentility was so refreshing to her, because it was so sincere and kind, and in no way oppressive or domineering, as some men seemed to use such gestures. Wielding them like a club rather than a feather. She was just used to seeing a certain side of him, teasing and silly as he was in therapy that this side of Captain Syverson, or as she may end up calling him one day, Logan, his given first name, if it pleased him, had taken her off guard.

"Nice place." she approved, looking around at he exposed beams of the ceiling and the iron and copper chandeliers and light fixtures on the wall. She also noticed quite curiously a copy of American Gothic by Grant Wood on one wall and The Kiss by Gustav Klimt on another. Such different styles to be displayed in one room. She really liked it though.

"It's one of my favorites. I try to come in every couple weeks or so." The fact that he liked steak on the regular was definitely a point in his favor. She loved it but rarely went out for it on her own. Eating out alone wasn't so bad, but it was hard to enjoy a steak dinner by one's self.

"What's your favorite cut?"

"Oh, I've tried most of them, and you can't go wrong." He assured her.

They had a crazy selection. Ribeyes, filets, sirloins, prime rib, all seasoned, smoked, topped and wrapped in every way you could imagine…it was like staring at the Netflix menu of steak. And much like she tended to do with Netflix, she relied on a classic favorite. After all, who goes for an obscure choice their first time at a new steak house?

"I'm keeping it simple and going for their prime rib and a baked potato."

"Ah, that's a perfect choice. We're getting some of their lobster mac and cheese to start, though. Unless you're allergic or something?" he added the disclaimer when he saw her eyes widen.

"Not at all, that sounds…"she was thinking "sexual," but decided instead on "heavenly."

Soon, Katie, a peppy, slender young redhead in black jeans she'd been poured into and a white T-shirt she had outgrown some time ago, descended upon their table with gusto.

"Howdy, I'm Katie and I get to take care of you fine folks this evening. What drinks and appetizers can I start y'all off with?"

Sy looked at Shane to prompt her to start.

"Sweet tea?" she half stated, half inquired. Katie nodded and jotted.

"Sure thing! Sir?" she thought her eyes sparkled when she looked at Sy…she couldn't blame her. But…she thought she could take her if she tried anything. She was certain there was a very sharp knife in the black napkin set-up at her right hand.

"Same for me, Katie. And we are also gonna need an order of your lobster mac to start and a bottle of your house cab."

"Fantastic. I'll be right back with the teas and wine after I put in for the lobster mac for ya, and then I'll take your meal order." she smiled brightly. Sy looked at Shane, though, as he replied "Wonderful."

~~~~~~~

Her instincts about the lobster mac and cheese had been spot on. She couldn’t contain her yummy noises of enjoyment which amused Sy to no end. She couldn’t imagine the steak any better.

About that, she had been completely wrong. It was so succulent, tender, and flavorful, she debated on whether or not the provided au jus and horseradish were even needed. They were also too good to resist, though.

Her potato, twice baked to the perfect tenderness had a salt brined skin, and a garlicky butter that just sung with the sour cream and chives. She was in food heaven, and even if that meant she was dead, it was fine.

He’d ordered the same entrée as she had, but took his baked potato…a bit differently.

“You don’t like sour cream?” She asked, nonplussed.

“Nah, I mean, I can eat it, but…it feels weird in my mouth. I prefer the au jus and butter, instead. It’s much more tasty.” He said, waggling his eyebrows.

“I guess I’ll take your word for it.” She laughed.

“You’re welcome to try mine when I get it all doctored you how I like it!”

She did, right from his fork. And he was right about it being so flavorful, but she preferred the mild, creamier texture of her own side with the savory notes of her steak.

They ate and enjoyed each other’s company and conversation.

“Ya know, Sy, I totally had you pegged as a beer man, instead of a wine guy.” She said, as she brought her own glass of the deep red liquid to her mouth and nose, inhaling the bouquet before she took her sip.

“Normally, you’d be right. With a burger, pizza, sometimes tacos or what not, definitely. But I can’t do beer with steak. It’s gotta be wine. Red. And full-bodied.” He held her gaze as he drank from his own glass. Why did he have to look at her like that when he said those kinds of words? Her cheeks were warm from more than the booze.

For desert, they shared a decadent marbled brownie/blondie a la mode. He’d had the idea to slide his chair so he was sharing a corner of the table with her, rather than looking across it at her. Purely so they didn’t have to keep sliding the dessert…not so their knees would brush against one another now and then, or so they could feel the heat radiating from one another’s bodies…but actually, exactly for those reasons.

“Last bite is to you, Sy.” She set her fork down, full to bursting.

“Are you kiddin’? My mama’d tan my hide if she knew I took the last bite from my date.”

“You’re being gallant, actually! Rescuing me from a certain belly ache.” She patted her small but slightly rounded tummy. She did like her food, and was no gym rat, after all. He didn't seemed to mind. Yet.

“How 'bout we share the last bite?” He suggested.

“Technically that’s not physically possible. Becau…”

He interrupted what was going to be an intellectual explanation of why no matter how small you cut up a bite, the remaining bit was still technically one bite, and couldn’t be shared.

“No. Shh. I know you’re smart. You got nothin’ to prove here. I’m gonna cut what’s left in half until I get a bite you’re willing to take. Okay?” She nodded.

He only had to take the fork to it twice before she conceded, also letting him feed her, feigning paralysis from the food coma. She held the fork tightly between her lips, making him work to pull it from her mouth. She looked innocent, but she was an intentional little shit.

“You're so cute when you eat.”

“Said no one ever!” She held her hand over her face.

“You are, though. You enjoy the food. Experience it. It’s like you’re…getting a story from it, or something. Like it’s…almost like it’s entertaining you, I don’t know. It’s just…beautiful.” He leaned his elbow onto the table, supporting his head in his hand as he looked at her.

"Well, sometimes I think I like food a little TOO much for my own good." she lamented, reaching for the cabernet only to have it snatched by her date. He uncorked it and dispensed a generous pour for her, and topped off his own glass, killing the bottle.

"No such thing. Like I said about the wine, full bodied is the way to go. Nothin' wrong with a little cushion." he winked at her. She could not resist finishing a rhyme she'd always heard about the desirability of curvy girls…for the pushin,' and hoped the flush in her cheeks from the wine was enough to disguise the deepening color from the current blush she was feeling thinking of Sy…pushin' her cushions…but something tipped him off to her distraction.

"What's on yer mind, sunshine?"

"I'm wondering if you're prepared to carry me on this walk we're planning, actually." It was possible to think more than one thing, after all. "I don't know how I'll ever even walk again."

"Ah, give it fifteen minutes. Finish up your sweet tea, and by the time we're done with our walk, you'll want an ice cream cone."

"Ha, doubtful." But she was ashamed to admit, ice cream already didn't sound bad. Vanilla…maybe pistachio….no, coffee! In a waffle cone…with fudge drizzle…and almonds…maybe she had a problem.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

She nodded. He flagged down Katie and gave her cash, and what one might call a benevolent tip. They left the warm steakhouse, and entered the breezy late summer evening, the humid air seeming thick with promises.

Up Next: Chapter Six-Sensory Integration 2

[the-awkward-outlaw]

A New Adventure - Pt 12

Hey folks! I figured it was only fitting that this series get a chapter about Thanksgiving. Enjoy! (BTW, this one made me really excited to go and bake some stuff).

Masterlist 

Read on AO3

Thanksgiving 

November has swept past and Thanksgiving is now only days away. 

Right after Halloween, Arthur mentioned it. Of course, you knew that Thanksgiving has been celebrated in the US since the Civil War. 

Curious about what it used to be like, you asked him how the gang celebrated the holiday. 

Arthur just smiled and explained that the last Thanksgiving he had with the gang, he and John had gone out hunting for turkeys, managing to catch four of them. 

Pearson had done his best to make an exemplary meal but, lacking a proper kitchen, he could only do so much. He’d made a hash along with some peach cobbler. 

There had been roasted vegetables cooked with the turkeys. 

Sean and Lenny snuck into town and stole some pies and desserts. 

The night had ended with most of the gang getting trashed. 

Arthur, chuckling at the memories, sombered up and asked you what Thanksgiving is like now. 

Your smile faded. You haven’t had a Thanksgiving in years, thanks to not really having much of a family anymore. 

The last one had been the last year your father was alive. 

Arthur apologized and hugged you. 

“Well, why don’t you and I do one? Just us?” he suggested. 

You heartily agreed and were silently grateful you still had the recipes your mom used for this celebration. 

The next shopping trip, you bought as many of the ingredients (and most importantly the turkey) as you could in order to get them before they were gone. 

Arthur looked at the frozen turkey. You didn’t get a big one, just one of those packets of breast meat since there would only be two of you. He seemed a little put off. 

When you asked him why, he said “Just don’t seem as satisfyin’. Buying a turkey from the store. I always caught ours back with the gang.” 

You put your hands on his hips and kissed him. “Well, maybe next year, you can go turkey hunting. I’ll get you a license and everything.” 

Arthur kissed you softly and thanked you, saying he’d like that. 

As the weeks of November went by, the inevitable signs of Black Friday and Christmas were popping up. None of which excited you. In fact, nothing annoys you as much as Black Friday. 

Arthur was seeing the ads too. He asked what Black Friday is. 

“Black Friday is the day after Thanksgiving where, even though people just had this big feast to be grateful for everything they already have, they go insane and spend hundreds of dollars and stand in lines for hours on end while risking getting punched in the face so they can save twenty dollars on a $400 dollar item.” 

“You serious?” he said, not hiding the ludicrousy from his voice. 

“Yeah. It’s a bullshit holiday. I always just stay home and watch South Park’s rendition of Black Friday.” 

Arthur said it shouldn’t really be classified as a holiday and you agree before telling him it’s just a US thing. Other countries don’t do it. Black Friday is the most undeniable form of capitalism that has ever existed. 

Along with Black Friday comes the other signs of Christmas. Ads on Youtube playing holiday music and some people in your neighborhood have already put up lawn decorations. 

You tell Arthur you don’t really like Christmas, not being religious yourself and not having a proper family. Then you tell Arthur you don’t wanna talk about Christmas because you hate the avaris of the whole thing and want to enjoy Thanksgiving properly this year since you finally have someone to spend it with. 

He agreed, figuring you’d tell him about Christmas the closer it got. 

Now that Thanksgiving is only days away, you’re getting excited. You’ve just pulled the turkey out to thaw ans Arthur comes up and kisses you. 

You love whenever he does this, surprising you with his kisses. 

The two of you have not slept together yet, and honestly you’re not quite sure you’re ready for that just yet. Soon probably, but not yet. 

Arthur has not been pushy. In fact, he hasn’t even brought up sex or made any kind of advances. 

“So, there any Thanksgivin’ movies you folks got?” he asks, figuring there must be as it seems there’s a movie for everything. 

“Not really. Unless you count Garfield,” you say, referring to the cartoon cat. 

Arthur wants to watch it as he enjoyed the Halloween episode of Garfield, so the two of you sit down. 

Arthur pulls you into his lap while it plays. God, he is such a sweetheart. How can he go from being scary as hell to sweet as honey within seconds? 

Thanksgiving day comes and you get up early in order to start making pie dough. 

You don’t have to start the turkey until a couple of hours before eating, thanks to your trusty Instapot. 

Just as you’re starting, Arthur comes into the kitchen, hitching his pants over his union suit. 

You have to avert your eyes as his suit hugs his body in the right places, showing the firm muscles of his chest, arms and shoulders. He leans on the doorframe and watches you for a second. He really thinks you’re beautiful and he’s thankful every day for having ran into you. 

After a moment, he joins your side. He wants to help you make dinner. 

He’s pretty out of his element, rarely having cooked anything proper and never having baked. 

Despite that, he’s helpful and eager to learn. You show him how to grind the ingredients together to make it into pie dough. 

He tries his hand at it, but seems to struggle. You tell him to just add a little bit of cold water and a lot of elbow grease. 

Finally the dough is ready, so you show him how to throw it into a ball and then roll it into a circle and then how to get it into the tin. 

Arthur asks if it wouldn’t have been easier to get pre-made dough. 

“Gah, no. That stuff is crap. Besides, for Thanksgiving you should make as much by hand as you can.”

Arthur is impressed. He didn’t think you knew how to make so much from scratch.

Arthur samples the pumpkin pie and he sighs audibly. You have to push him out of the way to stop him from dipping his finger into it for a second time so you can get it into the oven. 

While the pie is cooking, you begin another batch of dough, but this one is different as it is meant to make rolls. 

Arthur likes working with this dough much better as it’s more stretchy and doesn’t take as much pressing. 

When you show him how to grab the dough and toss it hard on the table, he finds it particularly enjoyable. He really likes kneading it too, chuckling when you ask him if he likes it. 

“There’s something to this,” he says. You agree that this dough is fun. 

Finally the dough is ready to raise. The tricky thing about this recipe is it has to be raised three times, but you learned when you were young how to grow the yeast in order to make it rise quickly. 

You and Arthur have about an hour to relax while the dough rises and the pie bakes. 

Arthur suddenly pulls you close and suggests the two of you cuddle up on the couch and just watch something that isn’t going to require your commitance. 

You blush heavily but agree. You love cuddling with Arthur. He’s warm and soft in just the right places. 

He takes you into the living room and plops onto the couch before opening up his arms so you can climb onto him. You do so right after turning on some Netflix. 

The second your cheek hits his chest, he starts combing his fingers through your hair. 

The two of you watch the show for a bit but neither of you is really interested. You’re more distracted by your company. 

You really just want to kiss him. Lately you’ve been thinking about what he might be like in the bed. Something tells you he might not be too bad, though perhaps a little inexperienced or ignorant. Sex ed nowadays is bad enough, it was even worse in his day. 

His heart is pounding hard in your ear, and it’s faster than it usually is. Is he thinking along the same vein as you? 

Before you can stop yourself, you look up at him and kiss him. He responds enthusiastically. 

It isn’t long until you’re fully straddling him, your hands winding in his hair. His hands are gripping your hips almost painfully hard. 

As you shift your thigh, you feel something below his belt pressing into your hip. It makes you blush but excites you when you realize what it is. 

You stop kissing his lips and instead move down to his neck, sucking on his pressure point. He groans heavily. 

Just as you’re about to start working at the buttons of his union suit, the timer for the pie goes off. 

“Shit,” you whisper into his neck. He’s panting a bit beneath you. 

If it weren’t Thanksgiving, you’d say fuck it and keep going with Arthur. But you want today to be special. 

So you resolve yourself and get up, not looking at him as you go into the kitchen to pull out the pie. 

You expect Arthur to be practically behind you, but he isn’t. Even when you go to the roll dough and pound it down for the second rise, he doesn’t come. 

You blush again when you realize you left him half baked and he’s probably working on taking care of things. 

Part of you wants to go and help him, but you know you really shouldn’t. Right now isn’t a good time. So you decide to just carry on with cooking and give him five minutes. 

Before his time runs out, he strolls into the kitchen, a pink tinge to his cheeks. 

“Sorry, darlin’. Didn’t mean to leave you with the work.” 

“No, it’s fine. And I’m sorry too. Didn’t mean for things to get so far between us.” 

He smiles a bit. “I’m not. That was… well, it was nice.” 

You smile back a bit and return to the turkey, which sits mostly wrapped in the sink as you’re letting the juice run out. 

Arthur gently pushes you aside and takes the turkey from you. He delicately strips it of its wrappings while you get out the spices. 

When the meat sits inside the Instapot with all the spices and oils, Arthur takes a curious sniff. He hums appreciatively. 

By the time the turkey’s set to cook, you find the roll dough is ready to be rolled out. So you show Arthur how to roll it out into a circle, how to cut the dough into crescent shapes. 

After they’ve been rolled and buttered, you put them in your room, on your bed, and turn on your space heater and close the door. 

By the time the rolls are set to go, you have to start making mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables. 

The mashed potatoes are a tried and true recipe so they don’t take too much effort. 

The vegetables are different as you’ve never done them before. But the spices make them smell good. 

Once all the food is cooking to the point you don’t need to do anything, you and Arthur give the kitchen a quick clean and begin setting up the table.

Luckily you have your grandmother’s china (your mom didn’t want it). You’ve rarely used it as it’s only for special occasions. 

Arthur inspects the china, noting the hand painted designs on the edges of the plates. He’s obviously impressed. 

Finally everything is ready to be set out. You and Arthur sit down, but you feel a little awkward. It’s been so long since you had a proper Thanksgiving you’re not really sure what you should do. Should you say what you’re grateful for?

You look at Arthur questioningly and his face says he’s thinking of the same thing. 

He clears his throat. “Darlin’, I know what I’m grateful for. I’m real thankful for havin’ run into you that day all them months ago. You saved my life and, well…” He blushes a bit and looks away. You’re blushing too.

He looks back at you, his eyes bright. “Darlin’, I love you.” 

Your eyes widen. He loves you? 

You huff a little and return his smile. “I love you too, Arthur. I’m most grateful this year for that day too. I wasn’t the only one who was saved that day.” 

If you were close to him, you’d lean over and kiss him, but as you’re separated by the table, all you can do is reach your hand over and grab his. 

He returns the gesture and squeezes yours. 

Dinner turns out to be surprisingly good. Better than you’d hoped seeing as you haven’t cooked this much or this complicated in years, and some of the recipes were new to you. You even pulled out some of your good wine.

Arthur heavily enjoys the meal. He excitedly dives into having seconds. 

After you’ve both gorged yourself, you and Arthur retreat to the couch again to wait out the guaranteed stupor that is to follow. 

You’re embraced in his grasp like before, but you don’t end up in a make out session. In fact, your mind doesn’t even wander into the direction of anything sexual. 

For the next two or so hours, you both slip in and out of your sleepy states while watching Netflix. 

Arthur likes brushing your hair. He’d never say it out loud, but he loves the way your body feels pressed against his.

He’s not thinking about sex either as he realizes this. You just feel comforting and warm. 

By the time the sun has properly set, you and Arthur go into the kitchen again and pull out the pumpkin pie.

“Oh, I’ve been excited for this,” Arthur admits eagerly.

You giggle as you lay on the whipped cream. 

The pie turns out to be just as good as the dinner. 

On his last bite, Arthur comes up to you, puts his hands on your hips and kisses you.

You can taste the pie and cream on his lips, but you enjoy it. 

As you kiss him, you wonder where your next steps in your relationship will take you. Unsurprisingly, you’re excited to find out.

[pixie88]

My Science Buff

A/N: Those who play Lovelink know Marco Bottazzi. He recently when grey on me, I miss him so decided to do a FF especially for him! He makes it hard not to fall for him while he sets you up with his best friend. This might be a one shot piece or I might continue I’m not sure yet. Let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged!

Find my other Marco Bottazzi FF HERE on my masterlist under Lovelink - One shots. Along with my Rory Bear & Shopping Trip (Rory O’Brien), Tattoo Artist to Businessman (Blake Bailey) & Photogenic (Dominic Wright) FF. .

Comments always welcome!

Word count: 1649

WARNINGS: ⚠️ MILD NSFW & Fluffy fluff

Disclaimer: Characters are property of Lovelink.

Pairings: Marco X MC - Naomi

Enjoy!

*1 New Message on Lovelink from Marco*

[Hey Naomi, I've broken things off with Sally. She also admitted she has feelings for Taylor. She still loves me but not in the same way she used to. She also said she was forced to realize our spark had disappeared the moment she saw us together]

[Hi handsome, I hope you are ok? Wow, talk about string you along....! So what happens now?]

[*Blushing!* I'm actually........relieved don't get me wrong, I am a little sad 10 years is a long time, but we have been dead in the water for a while it took meeting you to realize that. Now? Sally has moved back to her parents until I find somewhere to live. I was hoping this also means I could take you on a proper date JUST me and you?]

[Just goes to show when you are too close to someone you never really see the situation right in front of you. It always takes an outsider to see what you have become blind to. Sound like you have a plan. A date? Not too soon?]

[Ouch! But I know you are right. Yeah, I can't wait to move on with my life. Too soon? I don't think it is unless you have changed your mind?]

[I am always right, I thought you had figured that out already haha! I haven't changed my mind, I'm just worried it might be too soon for you?]

[I have lol! Definitely not too soon. I want to take you on a date just me and you. A real date please? :( ]

[You are a fast learner haha. OK, how can I say no to a sad face?]

[I am! You can't ;) why don't you come here and I'll teach you how to make Ramen?]

[I'm not comfortable with coming to yours and Sally's place! What if you came here instead?]

[Ok, that's fine. Yeah, I'll grab the ingredients on the way. Are you free tomorrow night?]

[Great, I can't wait! Tomorrow is fine. I get back from work at 5 so shall we say 6 maybe 7?]

[I can't wait either. Awesome I'm excited to see you! Is 7 ok?]

[I am too! 7 is perfect! Do you need me to get anything?]

[Awesome! I'll see you then. Text me your address and no I'll grab everything on the way]

~*~*~*~

The next day I get in from work and go for a shower, I decide on a navy polka dot dress. I leave my hair with wavy curls, I'm just finishing my make up when I hear a knock at the door. I look up at the clock, it only 6.41 pm he's early! I spray myself with perfume and head to the door. I open it, and he stood there with a massive bouquet of flowers.

He's wearing a grey suit and a white unbuttoned shirt, just looking at him gives me butterflies!

"Marco, you didn't have to get those"

"Naomi, I wanted to give you a real romantic date! You look beautiful"

"Thank you, you don't look too bad yourself. Come in,"

He smiles, hands me the flowers as we step inside. "You have a gorgeous home Naomi"

"Thanks, the kitchen is this way" I lead him to the kitchen.

We get to the kitchen, he puts the bags on the side and empties the bags.

"So, what do we need to do?" 

"Chop and wash the ingredients first, then stir fry the pork mince," he says.

"Great, let's get started,"

He smiles "I got us some wine too"

"Great, I'm looking forward to this!"

"Me too!" he smirks.

I get to work on chopping while he cooks the pork. We move around the kitchen together. Each time I look over at him, he's already looking at me. My cheeks burn as I blush. I set up the table as he finishes cooking and dishes up.  I grab the wine and a couple of glasses as he takes over the plates.

We take our seats "Dig in" He says.

As soon as I put the first mouthful in, it's like an explosion of flavours in my mouth "Oh my god Marco this is amazing!"

His face lights up "I'm glad you like it"

"Like it? I love it. Please tell me there is more?"

"There is loads more. Probably enough to feed you for a week" He says.

I laugh. After dinner, I start to clean up when his arms come around me and I turn in his arms to face him.

"Hey" He smiles.

"Hi" my heart is racing.

He brushes a strand of hair away from my face, he leans in his face inches from mine. I close the gap crashing my lips to his, the kiss is electrifying my hands' come round to the nape of his neck and his tongue invades my mouth. He pulls me tighter to him as he deepens the kiss, he lifts me onto the counter this kiss becomes more fierce.

His hand starts to run up my thigh and slips under my dress. We can't get enough of each other, he finds my centre and he brushes against me.

"Marco......we should stop"

He pulls away confused. "Marco, don't get me wrong, I want to I really do but I don't want to rush this. I want it to be special"

He smiles "You're right, let's take it slow"

He helps me down off the kitchen counter "Hey, I forgot dessert!" He pulls a tray out of his shopping bag and unwraps the brown paper.

"I hope you like homemade chocolate brownies"

My face light up "Brownies? You made brownies?"

"Yeah, I thought you might like them?"

"You're going to have to fight me for some" I grab the tray and run but he chases after me.

"Hey!! Come back here with those brownies!" He shouts.

I laugh running away from him, I run behind the couch, and he's on the other side.

"NAOMI!" he says with a smirk

I take a brownie from the tray and take a huge bite "Oh wow! These are amazing! They might even be better than sex!"

He laughs "That's probably because you haven't had sex with me yet" he winks and I blush, this distracts me so I don't have time to react when he jumps on and over my couch and grabs me.

"Ahhhh!" I scream as he takes the tray off me "One, that was sneaky and two, no shoes on my couch!"

He laughs, "Sorry, I'll make it up to you by baking you a mountain load of brownies?"

I smirk "Ok, I forgive you!"

"Good, now let's sit down and eat these" he takes my hand and leads me back to the dining table.

"So, have you found a place to stay?" I ask.

"I actually viewed a place 5 minutes away from here before our date"

"Ooo, so we could be neighbors?!"

He laughs, "Yeah, I guess so!"

"Have you spoken to Taylor since the other day?" I ask.

"Nope, he's being awkward with me. He is ignoring my calls at the moment"

"Why? You did what he asked you to do!"

"I don't know. To be honest with you since he told me about his feelings for Sally. I don't feel like I know him anymore. If that makes sense?"

"Perfect sense! Especially since he's kept a secret from you for so long"

He gives me a weak smile "Let's not talk about them. This is our date, not theirs"

I smile, "So as it's our date. Have you seen there is a Science convention at the weekend?"

His face lights up "Yeah, I actually have two tickets for me and Tay...." he cuts himself off.

"So you are going by yourself?" I ask.

"Yeah, I am now," he says.

"Tell me no if you want but if you still have Taylor's ticket I would love to go with you!"

He's beaming "Really? You would come with me?"

I laugh, "Of course! If you invite me that is!"

He smirks "You said you weren't much of a science buff!"

"I might not be but it's something you like, so I want to take an interest in it. You might have to explain a lot to me, but I'm willing to learn if you're willing to teach? Pun intended" I wink.

"Wow, Sally would never com....know what I would love for you to be my date!"

"Ooo I didn't know it would be a date! I'll have to wear a super sexy outfit" I say with a grin.

"Not too sexy you'll give all those nerds a heart attack" he laughs.

A little while later he's leaving.

"Text me when you're home?"

He smiles "Will do! Thanks for tonight Naomi!"

"Thank you for all the amazing food!" He pulls me to him and plants a soft kiss against my lips.

"I'm so looking forward to this weekend!" He says as he pulls away.

"Me too!" I wink.

He walks down the steps and starts walking down the street to his car as he drives past and waves.

20 minutes later I'm getting ready for bed when my phone vibrates.

*1 New Message on Lovelink from Marco*

[Hey, gorgeous! I really enjoyed tonight and I'm home BTW! Also, do you think we could actually exchange numbers now? Rather than talking through a dating app? X]

[Hi handsome, I had a fab night too so thank you. Glad you made it home safe! Mister Bottazzi I never give my number out before I put out ;P So you have 1, 2, or maybe 5 dates before you earn that privilege! ;) Night xx]

[HOLY CRAP! Now that's all I can think about :( X]

[You're welcome! Nighty night xx]

[I'm going for a cold shower. Sweet dreams X]

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[fanfics4all]

Angelina

Request: Yes / No  Could you please do a multi parted storyline(kinda like the most important parts of the show) where Veronica and Hermione move to Riverdale with Hiram’s second(most involved and more important) family, his wife Dove and his his daughter(Veronica’s half twin sister) Angelina, Angelina starts off dating Archie(after Veronica and he kiss in the closet and Betty is over him) and later in season 2 she starts dating Sweet Pea(I changed my mind) and btw she becomes a serpent -she becomes a serpent along the season 2 storyline, could include pictures Thanks Anon

Request are open but ONLY if they’re Halloween <3 Have a nice day/night

Archie Andrews x OC (Former)

Sweet Pea x OC  

Word count: 1956

Warnings: Nothing

A/N: I was super super tired when I wrote this so I’m sorry that this probably sucks! 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

My father had gotten arrested and now my Mother and I were moving to his hometown, including his ex-wife and my half sister. We weren’t going to be living in the same apartment, but we would be in the same building. We were moving into The Pembroke and it was probably the nicest thing in this town. 

“Why couldn’t we just stay in New York?” I asked. 

“We’re here till things cool down.” My Mother said. 

“Right…” I sighed. 

We each went to our separate apartments, ours being bigger than Hermione and Veronica’s. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my half sister, she’s like my best friend, but I still enjoy being better than her. Once I finished unpacking my things and got my room sorted I walked out to see my Mother just getting off the phone. 

“Hello dear, would you bring this back to Hermione? She ordered from a small diner that she said was to die for. I ordered for you already and you and Veronica are going to go pick it up.” She said and I sighed slightly. 

“Fine.” I said and grabbed the phone from her. I took it over their apartment. Veronica answered the door and smiled at me. 

“Oh, thank you. I see you’re ready to go.” She said with a smile. 

“Let me just grab my coat.” I said and went to go get it. 

“Ready.” I said and we went out to the car. When the car stopped it was in front of a small diner called Pop’s Chock’Lit Shoppe. 

“We’ll be right back.” Veronica said as we got out. We walked inside and I noticed someone staring at us. Veronica pulled me along, near the table of the guy staring at us. 

“I called in an order, for Lodge?” Veronica asked the man working. 

“Four burgers, yeah, almost ready, but you gotta wait.” He said with a kind smile and walked behind the counter. 

“Hi.” Veronica said to the two that were sitting in the booth we were standing in front of. 

“Hey.” The guy that was staring, smiling at us. 

“How are the onion rings here?” I asked. 

“So good.” He answered. 

“Can we get some onion rings too, please?” I asked. 

“Yeah!” The man working said.

“Thanks. We just moved here with our Moms, so…” Veronica said. 

“From where?” The guy asked. 

“New York.” I answered with a smile. 

“Wow.” The guy said. 

“Do you guys go to Riverdale?” I asked. 

“We do. Both of us. Together.” 

“Yeah, we’re sophomores.” The guy and girl said at the same time. 

“Us too.” Veronica said. 

“I’m filled with dread.” I said. 

“Why is that?” The guy asked. 

“Are you familiar with the works of Truman Capote?” I asked and he nodded. 

“I’m Breakfast at Tiffany’s, but this place is strictly In Cold Blood.” I said and he laughed while I giggled. 

“Angelina Lodge.” I introduced myself. 

“This is my half sister, Veronica Lodge.” I said as I shook the guys hand. 

“Archie Andrews.” He said with a smile. 

“Uh, this is Betty Cooper.” He said as he introduced the girl. 

“Wait, are you…” Veronica trailed off. 

“Supposed to give you your tour tomorrow? Yes. I’m your peer mentor.” Betty finished. 

 “Do you want to join us?” Archie asked.��

“Hey, maybe we can un-fill you with dread.” He added. 

“Our Mom’s are waiting for us.” Veronica said. 

“But, to be continued.” I said with a flirty smile. Veronica pulled me away and we grabbed the food. We went back to the car and we were on the way home. 

“He was pretty cute, what do you think?” I asked. 

“For a small little town, yeah, he’s cute.” Veronica agreed. 

“Now I’m very excited about school tomorrow.” I said and she rolled her eyes. 

School was interesting for the week. Veronica and I joined the cheer team and she became pretty good friends with Betty. I on the other hands didn’t really find anyone that really interested me besides Archie. He wasn’t my usual type, but why not try something new? So when the dance came and Veronica, Betty, and I went with Archie. Veronica was trying hard to get Betty and Archie together, but it didn’t work out. So now we were going to an after party at the Blossom’s house. It was a lot more fun than the actual dance was. 

“It’s game time at Chez Blossom, kiddies.” Cheryl Blossom said as she gathered a bunch of people up. 

“We’re going old-school tonight. Seven minutes in Heaven. Who wants to tryst in the closet of love first?” She asked. 

“My vote is A for Archie. Anyone care to second it?” She asked. 

“Wait, actually-” 

“Yes, Andrews! Yes!” Reggie said, cutting Archie off. 

“Alright, gather round, kids.” Cheryl said. 

“Let’s see who’s riding the ginger stallion tonight.” She said as she placed a bottle on the table and spun. I sat next to my sister and hoped with baited breath that I would get to be the one in the closet with Archie. It landed in between Veronica and Betty. 

“Oh no way!” Reggie said and I rolled my eyes. 

“It’s clearly pointing to... new girl, Veronica. This should be fun.” Cheryl said. 

“Um… I’m not doing this.” Veronica said. 

“That’s up to you. But if you don’t, house rules decree the hostess gets to take your turn.” Cheryl said with a smirk. My sister got up and went into the closet with Archie. I narrowed my eyes at the door. 

“I’m out of here.” I said and left quickly. How dare she! 

“Angelina, what are you doing home so early?” My Mother asked. 

“My bitch of a sister ruined my night.” I grumbled. 

“Watch your language! What do you mean she ruined your night?” She asked. 

“There’s a boy here that I told her I had my eye on and she went and tried to get him with another girl and then kissed him!” I said and she sighed. 

“So high school drama.” She said and I narrowed my eyes. 

“I’m going to my room.” I said and stormed off. 

A little later Veronica came into my room and I immediately threw a pillow at her. 

“Get out!” I growled. 

“You’re not honestly upset that I kissed him, are you?” She asked and I narrowed my eyes. 

“I told you when we first saw him that I thought he was cute, you should know that means I have my eyes on him!” I said and she rolled her eyes. 

“Please, he’s not even your type.” She said. 

“Seriously? Just get over it.” She said and I glared at her. 

“I told you I liked him and one, you go and try and get him with another girl, then two, you kiss him!” I said. 

“I’m sorry Angie, but I can’t help that I like him too.” She said and I rolled my eyes. 

“Get. Out.” I growled and she sighed. 

“Fine, whatever.” She said and left.

A few weeks later and I was the one dating Archie Andrews. Veronica was jealous, especially since I was rubbing it in her face. She always got the guy and this time it was my turn. As our relationship went on I realized he really wasn’t my type. My type was definitely someone more like Jughead, the bad boy type style. Archie actually got jealous about me hanging out with Jughead more. I was bringing out my normal style, lots of black and bad girl looking clothes. Something my Mother and Father hated. They’d rather I dress more like Veronica does, but that just isn’t me. When the year was ending I broke it off with Archie. We just weren’t end game and I didn’t want to waste my time anymore. Jughead understood where I was coming from, but he was the only one. However when I was coming home after the breakup, I walked in to see my Father sitting at the end of the table. 

“Daddy!” I said and ran over to him. 

“Hello Princess.” He said as I hugged him and he kissed my head. 

“You’re back! So we can go home right?” I asked and he shook his head. 

“I have plans here, so we’re staying.” He answered and I frowned a little. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

“I just broke up with my boyfriend and I do not want to stay here anymore.” I said and he sighed. 

“Sorry Princess, we need to stay here a bit longer.” He said and I sighed. 

“Alright Daddy.” I said. 

Weeks went by and Jughead and I were definitely spending more on the Southside, something my parents hated. They especially hated when I joined the Serpents. That night was amazing. It was the night I met Sweet Pea. It was at Jughead’s Father’s retirement party and I was about to become a Serpent. Before I left the house with Veronica I put on the perfect lingerie under my black dress that my parents allowed me to wear out of the house. 

A bit into the party Jughead nodded me towards the back of the stage. He walked over to Hogeye and told him that it was time. I undressed and left my heels on, ready to do this dance and have every guy looking at me. Even though I didn’t have feelings for Archie and he was dating my sister now, it would be so fun to see his face during this. 

“We’ve got something special tonight, we’re gonna be welcoming a new member to the Serpents. Everyone, give it up for Angelina!” I heard Hogeye announce and people started clapping. The song Lil Freak started playing and I walked out on the stage with a sexy strut. My eyes scanned the room and I saw Archie looking at me with his jaw dropped. I smirked and walked up to the pole and worked it like it was my job. As I continued scanning the room I saw a tall tan Serpent boy with a sexy Serpent tattoo on his neck. 

When the song ended I got my jacket and I walked to the back to get dressed again. I met Jughead outside the door and he smiled. 

“How does it feel being a Serpent now?” He asked and I smirked. 

“Like I’m finally my own person and not Daddy’s little girl.” I answered and he chuckled. 

“Well, you got a fan.” He said and I raised my brow.

“Come, I’ll introduce you.” He said. 

“Angelina, this is Sweet Pea, Sweet Pea, this is Angelina Lodge.” Jughead said and I smiled as I saw the tall tan boy. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” I said offering him my hand. 

“You were amazing up there.” He said and I smirked. 

“Thanks for noticing.” I said and he smirked in return. 

“Angelina! What the hell was that!?” Veronica asked, completely ruining the moment. 

“I’m a Serpent, that’s what that was.” I answered with a roll of my eyes. 

“Clearly… Daddy and Dove are going to be pissed.” She said and I scoffed. 

“Like you care, now if you excuse me, I’m talking with a very attractive guy.” I said and turned back to Sweet Pea. 

“Let’s get you a drink.” He said and led me off to the bar. 

That was how our relationship started. That was also how I lost the title of Daddy’s little girl. My Father hated that I joined a gang and that I was dating someone from it. My Mother didn’t care as much since she was happy that I was happy. Angelina Lodge was no longer going to let other people run her life, no, I was taking my life into my own hands now!