#because we know for a FACT they are all friends

[gurugirl]

Truth or Dare | slumber party!h

Summary: Y/n's coworker, Harry, has never been to a slumber party so she decides to remedy that and give him a sleepover he'll never forget.

A/N: Based off this request. Thanks anon! I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6,752

Warning: smut

. . .

By her third glass of chardonnay, her stomach was feeling the acid from the wine but she was having such a good time talking to Harry from the operations department that she didn’t care. She’d have another before calling it a night. Just one more glass so she could sit with him a little longer and listen to him talk and watch as he ran his finger along the edge of his pint glass.

He was probably looking at her like he was because he was also three pints of lager in and he was kind so he was holding eye contact to be polite. Certainly, it wasn’t because he found her attractive (though she’d have welcomed that).

The company’s management meeting was long over and everyone else had gone home but Harry and Y/n stayed for another round. They rarely ever got to talk at the office. She’d always wanted to pick his brain about why he decided to move to the US and how, of all companies, he chose to work at Dunn Services.

Y/n laughed on cue as he mentioned something from his childhood with his sister having her friends over to stay the night. He grinned, a healthy row of teeth aimed at her before he looked down and laughed at himself, “In truth? I never did have a sleepover or anything like that.”

“Really? Surely you had friends…”

Harry nodded, “Oh yeah I had a lot of friends. But I never stayed over at anyone’s and they never came over to mine either. Just… I don’t know. Never happened.”

Placing her nearly empty glass down she turned and waved with a smile as the waitress walked by, “Can we get another round, please?”

“How are you getting home?” Harry asked when she faced him, crossing her leg over her knee toward him.

“Taxi. You?”

“Might walk. I’m not far from here.”

Nodding she placed her elbows on the table, “So, I think that you’ve missed out on an integral right of passage, having never had a slumber party. You should definitely remedy that at some point. I highly recommend a fun sleepover. In fact, if you need pointers on what to do during a sleepover, I’m your gal.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your go-to during a slumber party?” Harry teased before taking another sip of his beer.

“Well, I think there are like two main components. The first is entertainment and I’m always keen on a good movie, or a dumb one, either way… a movie for sure if I’m picking. Some people like to play board games or whatever, but I like to stuff myself into a pile of blankets and pillows and just lie, or drape,” she spoke using her arms to demonstrate herself draping into pillows. “Occasionally, if the mood is right, I’ll enjoy a little truth or dare.”

“Got it. A movie and maybe if the mood is right, truth or dare. And what’s the second component.”

Y/n crossed her fingers together and raised her brows as if she were about to say something very important, “Snacks. Beverages. Good ones. Usually just small bites but here’s my list…” She cleared her throat, “Buttered popcorn, and possibly potato chips. Definitely something chocolatey, and maybe something like a cookie or a snack cake. If not potato chips then tortilla chips and if it’s tortilla chips, salsa should also definitely be on the menu.”

Harry held back the laugh in his throat as he nodded, “Wow. Okay. What about like a burger or Chinese food? Would that be allowed?”

Y/n shrugged, “It’s your party. You can do what you want. I’m just telling you what I’d do and what would be a hit with your sleepover buddy.”

Harry breathed out a laugh. Y/n could tell he was getting bashful. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. She watched him for a few seconds before the waitress returned with their drinks.

A quick gulp of wine and she nudged at his shin with her shoe, “You wanna have a slumber party with me?”

Harry blinked and tilted his head, “What? You mean… Seriously?”

She shrugged, “Why not? Then next time someone asks if you’ve ever had a proper slumber party you can say that you have.”

He laughed loudly, his husky voice was like music to her ears. Pointing at her with his finger he grinned, “Now how I can argue with that? I mean,” he shook his head, a glint in his eye, “Every time someone asks me if I’ve been to a slumber party and I tell them I haven’t, it’s such a disappointment! The look on their faces when they realize my whole childhood was a sham…”

They both laughed, leaning in toward one another, tittering toward the edges of their stools.

Harry tilted his head, “Actually I think it sounds fun. You just name the day and I’ll be there.”

Y/n smiled at him. She knew it was crazy. Having a grown man at her place for a slumber party. Typically adults didn’t have those kinds of sleepovers – it was usually with the intent of something far more salacious. But she’d show him a good time, she thought, raising her glass toward his, “Deal.”

.                 .                 .

Y/n had her sofa bed pulled out and piled high with extra blankets and pillows. She had all her favorite snacks plus she ordered cheeseburgers and fries for the guest of the night. It was silly. Truly she hadn’t had a real slumber party in ages, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of excitement that she’d be hanging out with Harry all night. It was possible that her small crush on him was making her feel all giddy but she’d push down that feeling until he gave her any extenuating signals.

Because the truth was that they were both single, young adults and this was such an unlikely scenario. No one would look at this and say Oh how cute of these two grown adults hanging out in bed together for a sleepover. So innocent! No, she knew better. While maybe nothing would actually happen it certainly wouldn’t look innocent.

And of course, she did pick out the perfect pijama set. Something a little more flattering on her body but not too hey I really need to get laid tonight. It was a happy compromise. Cotton shorts and a button-up, matching short-sleeved top. This was just supposed to be a slumber party after all.

Right?

Besides, the little paper invitation she gave him on Monday morning told him to arrive in his sleepwear so she had to look the part. And not to toot her own horn but she made a very cute invitation just for him tucked into a pink envelope with a separate little response card that had space at the bottom for him to mark yes or no if he could come. It was a yes. Obviously.

When Harry finally arrived he was wearing a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. And for some fucking bizarre reason he looked so much hotter than he did when he wore his well-fitted suits at work.

Because goddamn did his shirt somehow just hug his torso in all the right spots and it allowed her to take a good look at all tattoos on his arms that were normally hidden under brushed wool jackets or long-sleeved button-up shirts. She knew he had tattoos. She’d seen him roll up his sleeves a couple of times but she never wanted to be rude and stare for long.

And then the sweatpants, while loose in the legs, fit his waist and hips and…

“You okay?” Harry was still standing in the doorway with his backpack draped over his arm waiting to be invited in.

“Yeah, sorry. Not used to seeing you dressed down like this. Almost unrecognizable.”

Harry let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling as Y/n stepped aside to let him in, “Would you like to see my ID? Swear I’m the Harry Styles, the guy you invited over for chips, popcorn, and truth or dare. I’ve even got your invite somewhere in my bag…”

She breathed a laugh through her nose and watched him enter into her space, “Movies too. Oh, and I also ordered cheeseburgers. Remembered that you mentioned that.”

He seemed quite pleased with the burgers as she handed him the bag. She got those small ones, five to an order, “Thanks. Fries too, huh?” He reached into the bag and pulled out three crinkle-cut french fries then stuffed them into his mouth.

“So should we settle in and pick out a movie?” She gestured toward her couch.

Harry had seen the pull-out couch with heaps of pillows and blankets when he walked in. He knew that that would be where they’d be spending most of the evening. It was the glaring thing about the whole slumber party slash sleepover. That they’d be probably sleeping next to one another. As two young, healthy, attractive adults.

“Sure,” he nodded and waited for her to pick which side she was going to take before climbing in next to her, the thin mattress and metal frame giving way gently under his weight before he leaned back against a mountain of pillows, bag of burgers safe in his hands.

Y/n had a few video streaming services at the ready and they settled on a cheesy comedy from the late 90s before Y/n reached over to her coffee table and then lined up all the snacks between them.

They chatted a little, having both seen the movie already. Topics were anything from what their plans were for the rest of the weekend to what they’d eaten for lunch at work. And it was only a little awkward when they both reached into the bowl of M&M’s at the same time, fingers brushing together.

Harry moved his hand away, “Sorry. You go…”

Y/n grinned at him, scooping a handful of candy into her palm, and then sat up, adjusting her seating as she crossed her legs together, “Wanna do truth or dare? Pretend like we’re 15 again having a sleepover. Really get into the whole slumber party vibe, ya know?”

Harry dug out a few M&M’s and let out a chesty laugh, “If I’m 15 again we’re in big trouble.”

Y/n snorted a laugh, “Why? What do you mean?”

He shook his head, a wide grin on his face with deep set dimples carved into each cheek as he turned his head to look at her, “If this were happening when I was 15 I’d already be in the bathroom hyperventilating and probably trying to will away a boner after our hands touched in the M&M’s bowl.”

Y/n guffawed and threw her head back, nearly choking on her bite of chocolatey candies as Harry laughed with her. Honestly, it was the best icebreaker she could have asked for. Things had been kind of clunky between them up until that moment as they were still trying to navigate how to act around one another. And she knew he was teasing but the good belly laugh that she got from Harry’s story was exactly what they needed.

“Okay fine. We’ll just keep going about it as adults then. No fifteen-year-olds here tonight,” Y/n chuckled as she shoveled a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth.

Y/n kept her eyes on him as she chewed her mouthful, “So truth or dare?”

Harry cocked his head at her, “So the mood is right then? For truth or dare?”

Y/n’s brows furrowed, “The mood?”

“Yeah. You said it over drinks. Remember when you were telling me what the most important components are to a sleepover and you said you liked truth or dare if the mood was right.”

Nodding slowly, she thought back to what she’d said, “Yeah. I guess I did say that. And I mean… I think the mood’s right for a little truth or dare. Movie’s almost over and you just pretty much kicked us off with that truth.” A breathy laugh was pushed from her mouth.

She could tell Harry was mulling on another question as he bit the inside of his cheek, head tilting in agreement, “So that means it’s your turn. Truth or dare?”

Biting her lip as she pondered, she pressed her back into the soft pillows behind her, “Truth.”

Harry shifted to his side, long legs stretching the length of the mattress as he propped his head up in his hand, a pillow under his arm, “Have you ever kissed a co-worker before?”

Scoffing Y/n moved to her side, mimicking Harry’s position on her side, “No,” she grinned. It was true. She’d never once done anything with any of her coworkers. Having Harry over at her house was the closest she’d ever gotten to doing anything like that. “Now you. Truth or dare?”

His green eyes slid over her features, “Truth.”

She laughed to herself, trying to think of something funny, “How many stuffed animals do you own?”

Licking his lips he nodded, “Think maybe two? Gifts from my niece… Truth or dare?”

“Mmm… dare,” she giggled.

Harry lifted a brow, “Ahhh… feeling bold yeah? Okay… hmm…” He pursed his lips to the side as he considered the dare. “Read to me the last text you sent to anyone. And you have to show me to prove it was the last one. And it can’t be any texts you and me, cause that’s not fair.”

Y/n blinked. She wasn’t exactly sure what her last text was besides Harry. But she was slightly worried because if it was what she was thinking… lifting up her message app she scrolled down to the text thread below Harry’s and it was a text with her sister. Which was what she had been worried about. She gulped, hoping that the things she said about her “coworker” who was coming to stay with her weren’t the last things she and her sister texted about.

Puffing out a breath she covered up all the previous texts to show Harry the last text from her sister – God knows you need it. Sending you good vibes, sis ;)

Harry squinted as he looked at the message and pointed, “That’s to you. The dare was to show me the last text you sent to someone. Let’s see it…”

Feeling her neck heat up she angled the phone away from him and read what she’d sent her sister. And there was no mention of Harry but if he were even halfway decent at picking up clues he might be able to figure out what was being discussed prior.

She shook her head and looked up at him. She couldn’t believe she was about to show him what was on her screen. But a dare was a dare. What was the worst that could happen?

lol I doubt anything will happen but I wouldn’t turn him down. Got condoms just in case 😜 send all your good vibes my way

Harry’s brows squished together as he looked at the text and back to Y/n and then down again at the words on her screen. She saw his throat bob and she knew the look on his face. He fucking knew what that was. He had to know.

She had to look away. She pulled the phone down and killed the screen. The awkwardness between them thick and uncomfortable as she peeked back at him. The edge of his mouth was pulled upward in a smirk, “That’s to your sister?”

Nodding she blew out an exasperated breath, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Harry grinned as he positioned his knee closer to Y/n, his eyes still on hers, “Dare.”

Swallowing her embarrassment down the best she could she decided to ask him the same, “Now show me the last text you sent anyone besides me.”

Harry’s smartass grin told her all she needed to know. That his last text probably wasn’t nearly as risqué as hers.

And it wasn’t. Not even close.

You can have two pounds for free. I’ve got so many growing I can’t keep up. As long as you come to pick them up on Monday they’re yours.

“I have a bunch of zucchini growing in my garden,” Harry pulled the phone away and laid it down next to his hip. “Got a neighbor who wants some.”

Of course, his last text to anyone was about zucchini. Jesus, she was so far out of her depth.

He was still wearing that shit-eating grin as he said, “Truth or dare, Y/n?”

And the way he said her name, all slow and sexy-like had her insides heating up. Well, maybe she made up the sexy part but he was definitely teasing her. She could just feel it.

“Truth.”

She was sure she’d regret that. Truth or dare. It didn’t matter. She was still reeling from showing him her texts.

“Was that text about me?” Shit-eating grin in place as he asked. Fucker.

Y/n’s eyes grew wide dropping her mouth open in surprise. Of course, he was going to ask that. Of course!

“Oh come on, Harry…” she pleaded.

He lifted his brows and awarded her a larger grin with those cute indents scoring into his cheeks, “Them’s the rules, baby. You chose truth and now you have to be honest.”

Clearing her throat she sat up to her bottom and leaned forward so she didn’t have to look at him as she put her head in her hands and laughed in disbelief, “Jesus. Seriously?”

“Yep. Spill. Let’s hear it.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. It was about you.”

Keeping her eyes on her lap she waited for a smug remark. Some kind of teasing reply but it was quiet. Slowly she turned to look back at him and he was still lying on his side, head in his palm as he watched her, his eyes fixed to hers.

She shrugged, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Harry flattened his lips and squinted at her before cocking his head, “Hold on… Really? That was about me?”

Sighing she rolled her eyes, “Yes. Sorry. I was… it was just funny… it was me joking around with my sister is all.”

He blinked and looked down at the space between them as he nodded, “Okay. I see. So you didn’t actually mean it?”

“Well… I guess… We were joking. Obviously, nothing has to happen. I would never expect that. I…” she breathed out exasperated.

“Obviously nothing has to happen. Did you want it to happen?” His pupils were pinned to hers again.

Opening her mouth she stopped herself for a moment. She knew her answer was yes but she didn’t want to come off like a creep. She hadn’t expected it and assumed it wouldn’t. But the truth remained; she hoped it would happen.

Deflating her posture she laid back to her side to face Harry, tucking a pillow into her chest, “The truth is that I think you’re attractive and I haven’t been with anyone in kind of a long time and… she knows that, my sister. So we were just… it was lighthearted but yeah I mean… without any expectations, cause I would never… I hope you know that. But I did think it would be nice.”

“Nice. Yeah. I agree. It would be nice. And just so you know,” he swung his head to look over his shoulder before looking back at her, “I brought condoms as well. You know… just in case.”

She was a bit stunned at that. Was he…

“Dare me to kiss you,” he grinned, irises dropping to her lips for a second before looking back into her eyes.

She laughed, “That’s not how the game works. The rules are you can’t–”

“Fuck the rules. Dare me to kiss you.”

Shaking her head with a wide smile stretched across her face she felt like her skin was pricking as her heartbeat picked up. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

Looking back into his eyes she inhaled deeply, “Fine. I dare you to kiss me.”

Harry’s smirk was unreal. The way he dragged his gaze over her face and down to her mouth was almost lewd, “Didn’t need to play truth or dare to get me to kiss you, Y/n,” he scooted in, grabbing the pillow she had tucked into her chest and tossing it away before he drew a hand up to her face, “You just needed to ask.”

She held her breath as he closed in slowly until it was as if all the tension in the room had popped and fizzled when his lips met hers.

He was so soft and gentle. Lips winding easily, carefully at first. And then she parted her lips more, kissing him back and letting her mouth press into his bottom lip before their tongues were meshed.

She moved her knee out to stabilize herself and knocked over the bowl of popcorn between them. Laughing into his mouth she gasped as she parted from him but he only reached for her again, placing his palm at the back of her head to pull her mouth back against his with a grunt from his chest as he pushed the bowl away and drove his arm underneath her side to keep her from getting too far.

Harry was softly moaning as his tongue worked its way into her mouth gently. It was clear he’d wanted to kiss her. That he liked it. And that notion made her head spin combined with the feel of his thumb traveling over her jaw. There was not going to be any stopping the momentum that had begun.

Well, except for when the bowl of M&M’s poured out against her leg. She had to push at him. As much as she would have loved to have kept making out, she would not have been able to enjoy melted chocolate on her legs or the bedsheets tucked around the mattress (think of the scrubbing she’d need to do!).

“Sorry,” she panted and looked down at the smashed pieces of popcorn and the chocolate candies strewn between them, “I’ve gotta pick this up. Our body heat will melt all these and it’s gonna be a big mess.”

Harry grinned, “Why don’t we just move this party to your bed for a little bit? Clean up later? The M&M’s won’t melt if we’re not laying on them.”

She laughed, already feeling overwhelmed and overheated from the kiss and now he was suggesting taking it to her bed? This was really happening, wasn’t it? She nodded and they both moved off the sofa sleeper to their feet, Harry following behind Y/n as she led him to her bedroom.

She already had her bedside lamp on. Bed made perfectly, everything tucked in and neat.

She turned to look at him and he stepped against her, palm splaying at her low back, “I dare you to get onto your bed and take your clothes off.”

A small laugh burst from her chest, “Oh, so now we’re just doing dares?”

He nodded, “Making up our own rules for this game. S’more fun this way.”

Letting go of her he watched as she stepped backward toward her bed and began to unbutton her nightshirt until it was shed from her body before she pushed her shorts down her legs. She was left in a pretty white bralette (something soft for bedtime) that stretched around her breasts and a pair of thin cotton panties that matched. She kneed up onto her bed and let her feet dangle off the edge and pointed, “Now I dare you to take off your clothes.”

He peeled his white t-shirt off, his hair mussing in the process. She watched with her lips parted at the gorgeous man stripping before her. Not only was he built exactly like what she dreamed of (tattoos, beefy, muscular, a touch soft, very masculine) but the boner tenting his sweats was hard not to home in on.

Harry stuck his fingers into the waistband and looked up at her, “M’not wearing any underwear, so be warned…”

She swallowed as the material lowered, belly button, happy trail, a bit of dark hair and then he pulled the stretchy waistband away from his body so his cock could push free and she was already clenching at just the sight as he removed his sweatpants, cock full and heavy between his strong thighs.

Jesus Christ.

Harry stepped forward, nudging himself between her knees and she leaned back to look up at him, “I dare you to take off the rest of this. Since I’m completely naked feels only fair.”

She bit her lip and looked down at his girthy dick. He was clearly not shy of his body, standing there like that, cock right in front of her. But why should he be shy when he looked like that?

Scooting back further into the bed she got up to her knees and pulled the bralette off first, feeling the heat of his gaze on her tits as she then slid her panties down her thighs. She wasn’t nearly as confident as Harry was as she quickly pulled at her top blanket and covered herself with a small laugh.

Harry stepped forward, one knee on the mattress before climbing in next to her, nosing at her cheek softly before his lips were connected to hers again. And she melted into him just like before. His mouth was magic or something because before she realized it, he’d pulled the blankets off her body and he had a big palm sliding up her thigh and over her hip, ��Don’t cover up. So pretty. Knew you would be.”

She pushed her fingers into his thick wavey hair and felt her side hit the mattress as Harry pulled at her again, mouth still smeared against hers. He grabbed at her thigh, hitching it over his hip as he tucked in closer and it was warm and she could feel it. Feel him against her hip.

His giant hand smoothed against her bottom and up her spine until he was wrapping his long fingers around the back of her neck. Y/n nudged in closer, driving her hips forward until she was practically straddling him. So Harry took that as his cue to move to his back, taking her hips in his hands so she’d follow with him.

It had caught her off guard, the sudden change in position but her lips never stopped moving with his. Their kisses were wet and she could smell their saliva, and a touch of onion even from the burgers he’d eaten.

He guided her hips down, his thick cock hot under her thigh until she felt her pussy drag against warm skin at the base of his dick. A small gasp escaped her mouth as he pulled her up, letting her pussy glide up his length, “So wet already, Y/n…”

She was. It was embarrassing. Every inch of his shaft her pussy dragged against, coated him, wetted his skin. He kept pushing and pulling at her hips, using her slippery pussy like a soft wet toy he could run up and down his length.

Then she felt his fingers move around to her backside, digits sliding against her pussy as he licked into her mouth.

Gently she rolled against him and when she moved herself further down he pushed a fingertip inside, “Go on. Fuck yourself on my finger a little bit,” he whispered against her mouth.

He was filthy. She had no idea. He’d always been so sweet at work. So polite and respectful. But here he was reaching around her ass to get a finger inside of her cunt as she rubbed her pussy over his cock.

She panted into his mouth as she slid down around his finger, her clit smushed into his dick, slippery as she rolled up and down. But then he began to assist as he added another finger and began to fuck into her pussy, letting his digits curve into her the best he could from his angle. Slushy wet, she stopped moving her hips and parted from the kiss as she looked down at him. She could tell she was gushing all over his palm and probably his dick as she moaned.

“S’that feel good. You’re gettin’ my fingers all wet like it feels good.”

Nodding she gasped, “Yeah. Feels so good…”

Harry rutted up against her, his cock still pressed into her clit, and she panted, eyes still searing into his. She didn’t want to look away. She almost couldn’t believe he was in her bed fingering her like that.

“Your turn to dare me to do something. What do you want, Y/n?”

She moaned and closed her eyes. She was certain of what she wanted as she listened to the way his fingers gushed with each plunge into her.

“Fuck… dare you to… put on a condom.”

She popped her eyes open to peer down at him as he slid his fingers out of her, wiping her arousal on her ass, “They right here?” He moved his hand toward her bedside table, a knuckle tapping at the wood.

Climbing off of him she opened the drawer, “Yeah, a whole box. Hold on…”

Reaching over to pull out the condoms she felt Harry’s hands on her hips as he moved to sit up, then his lips were on her back, dotting warm kisses to her shoulder blades as she finally plucked a condom from the fresh box.

She watched him put the condom on and as expected, it didn’t cover his entire length. He was kind of a big guy. Well, maybe there was no kind of about it. Before today she had no idea he was packing like that. Though he always did come off as very confident and sure of himself.

She bit her lip as she watched him toss the wrapper away and then he kneed up to her, arm sliding to her back and carefully lowering her to the bed before spreading her legs apart as he fit himself there, sturdy thighs pushing against her soft ones.

“Gonna tell your sister her good vibes worked?” He smirked down at her, hands scouring her hips and tummy and then kneading softly at her tits.

Y/n laughed and reached a hand down to his knee before he pulled at her, making her thighs drape over his as he inched in closer.

“Hmm?” He was awfully teasing, she thought, grinning at her waiting for an answer.

“Probably,” she spit out in a laugh.  

Harry gripped at her thighs, lifting her a bit more to fit her bum over his bent knees and she wanted to scream in embarrassment when she realized he was inspecting her sodden vulva. She’d gotten herself all tidied up for him, should anything like this happen, so at least she had that going for her.

He smoothed his thumb through her pussylips, spreading them apart, and softly blew out a breath, “That is very pretty. Think we get him in there?”

She rolled her eyes as she watched him wrap his palm around his base and lay his fat cock over her mons, the condomed-tip reaching to her belly button, maybe further past, “Well, it’s made for it, so I’m pretty sure–”

“What… your pussy’s made to fit around my cock?” A cocky dimpled smirk gave way to a laugh.

“You know what I meant. It’s meant to… like…” she breathed out a laugh.

“Oh, I know… just fucking with you, Y/n.”

He gazed at her as he reared back, painting his cockhead through her labia, up and down, a soft bump into her clit before he repeated, spreading her soft lips apart as he watched the way his crown smeared her arousal between her creases.

When she moaned and wiggled her hips he pointed himself right at her little muscle, nudging softly forward, opening it up for himself. And she felt that first push, the way his tip fit into her, spreading apart and then stretching to accommodate his circumference.

“Oh god…” she breathed as he slipped in halfway and then pulled back.

“Almost there,” he panted as he kept his eyes on where they were connected, pushing and pulling back until she was swallowing him whole, his cock enveloped in her soft, warm pussy.

When he’d buried in whole, he moaned and watched her face twist up in ecstasy. Her lips were dropped open and her neck stretched long as she grasped onto the forearm of the hand he had gripping her waist.

Slowly he began to thrust, viscous liquid seeping from her pussy and sticking to his shaft. It was filthy. She was so wet that every time he bottomed out there was a splat and a plap sounding between them.

She let out a deep moan and her lips curled up, humid breath escaping her mouth as she felt him driving into her guts. He was taking it easy. Languidly fucking into her with wet claps every time he plunged in.

When her cunt was taking him easier and she was dripping down to her ass he moved in a little harder, faster. Angling himself over her, a palm down on the mattress so he could work into her with more gusto.

“Ah! Harry…” she squeaked at the stronger thrusts and clung onto his lats. He was panting, lips parted and pink, a curl falling over his forehead as he plowed into her splooshing pussy.

“Fuck you’re wet. Pussy is gushing, Y/n…”

Her brows pushed together as she gasped, her body knocked upward every time his hips met hers making her tits bounce. Harry didn’t know where to keep his focus. He loved watching his cock disappear into her hole but he kind of liked being right over her so he could see her face crinkle up every time he bottomed out and then her pretty breasts sway up and down. Or maybe he’d like to fuck her from behind, watch her ass jiggle as he pounded into her.

“Mmm… fuck that’s big!”

Harry groaned, “Yeah? Sure know how to sweet talk a man don’t you, pretty? S’hurt?”

She watched his face, a lusty grin, droopy eyelids as he continued muscling his way in deep.

She hissed when he bucked in, as if he was showing off just how deep he could push in and she coughed out, “Mmm… a little!”

Harry was going to lose his mind with her if she kept squeaking out moans and splatting around his cock like she was but he would be a gentleman and pull back a touch. Slowing down a little he sat up and moved his hand between them, smushing his thumb into her clit, which was so sticky wet even that swished and slid under the pad of his digit.

“Yessss…” she breathed out before murmuring on about how good it felt. “Oh fuck, that’s it. Oh god… please don’t stop… Harry, fuck, yes…”

The clit. The magical little nob that worked wonders as long as the man knew where to find it. Clearly, Harry knew right where it was. Knew how to circle over it, pressing against it just right. Knew how to fuck into her as well. Sliding his length through her vaginal walls, spreading her open, and grazing against her gummy little spot on the inside that had her buzzing and liquifying for him.

He watched her whine and squirm under him, loving how she was so into it. God that was an ego boost, “Like that, Y/n? Gonna come for me? Yeah?”

Her ears were already ringing when she lost herself, gripping around him and crying out as her orgasm washed through her tummy. Harry’s cock made her feel so full, so incredibly stuffed to the brim that it weighed her down and she could hardly move as he bulldozed into her, the pad of his thick thumb smushing fast circles over her throbbing nub.

Fucking her through it he gasped at how she spasmed and milked around him, her pussy trying to siphon his come right through his condom. But Harry wouldn’t come just yet. He had something to prove. Wanted to make a show of his prowess and give her something to tell her sister about.

So when she was finally calmed and her pussy wasn’t clamping around him like a vice grip he slid his hand under her head and kissed her gently, speaking low and soft against her lips, “Gonna have you flip over, okay? Just need a little more yeah?”

When he parted from the kiss she blinked up at him, fluttering lashes and out of breath, “You didn’t come?”

He shook his head, pulling himself out, gently before he placed his hands on her hips, “Not yet. I will soon, though. M’right on the edge. Won’t take me long.”

She rolled to her side as he lifted her hips and helped her get to her tummy. She felt his hands on her ass, squeezing and rubbing each meaty globe in his big palms. Then he was straddling her thighs as he spread her gently and she felt him push his thick tip back into her pussy, sharp and hot. It was tighter, felt a lot fuller like that as he began driving in deep and then pulling out to his tip, before plowing back into the hilt.

His moans grew louder and, even he could admit, sounded quite whiny, pathetic. He was shaking as he watched his dick spread her in half, her soft ass jiggling as he smacked into her, skin patting, his cock leaking precum steadily into his condom.

He hissed when it felt too good. His balls squeezing and his fat dick throbbing inside of her. He thrusted forward, landing a palm down next to her shoulder, his chest pressed into her back as he rutted himself in, tucking his cock through her insides and puffed out a hot groan into her ear, “Fuck you feel good. Gonna make me come, baby…”

She moaned and nodded, “Come for me, Harry…”

He might have held out for another thirty seconds, possibly a minute longer but her breathy words, all sultry and pleading had him pumping into his condom in an instant. He gargled on a moan and squeezed his eyes closed as he buried in and stilled his hips, ass flexing so he could push in further if it were possible.

Y/n felt him crushing her back as he collapsed over her, panted breaths in her ear, cock still throbbing in the aftermath of his orgasm.

She didn’t mind it. Liked his weight on her like that. Enjoyed the way he seemed just as fucked out as she was. She could even feel his heart pounding in his chest against her back.

With a moan, she turned her head and nuzzled her face into her blanket with her eyes closed. She’d fall asleep that way if he couldn’t get up. It was quite warm and comforting. Like a weighted blanket draped over her body. And maybe she did doze off for a bit because when she opened her eyes she felt him moving off of her before he crashed down next to her, the springs in her mattress bouncing under him.

Pushing herself to lie on her side she ran a hand over his chest and he turned to look at her, a dopey smile on his flushed face, “So this is what happens at slumber parties, huh? I’ve really missed out all these years.”

She giggled and nodded into her pillow, “Yep. They’re just like big orgies really. Normally there are more than just two people. It’s how I lost my virginity.”

Harry sputtered a laugh, “Really?”

Y/n couldn’t help but to cackle loudly and roll to her back, the biggest grin on her face, “No, silly. I was teasing.”

He slid a hand over her tummy, “So this isn’t what happens at slumber parties, then?” She could hear the cheeky smile in his voice.

She turned her head to look at him, “Well, not usually. But I think we made our own rules for this one today.”

“Yeah? Well, I have to give it to you. You throw a hell of a party. I’m certain this is gonna go down as the best sleepover in history.”

. . .

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[foldingfittedsheets]

Truly, one of the greatest love language is someone agreeing to eat something atrocious for your benefit.

My first experience with this was in college. My friend Charlie invited me to a jazz club. One would think he’d learned his lesson. I thought nothing of this and agreed to a fun night with a guy friend. We arrived and I saw nothing romantic in the outing.

The menu at the club was very traditional date food- steak, oysters, romancey food. But still, I didn’t catch on. This food didn’t sound like what I wanted. In fact, what I wanted was a hummus plate. Charlie took this turn of events with a slight wince but ordered one for us.

The hummus plate arrived. Sitting politely on the corner of the garlic bomb was a spicy pepper. Laughing, I teasingly dared Charlie to eat it. You see, this kind of rough humor was common among buddies. I thought we were in Buddy Rules. But Charlie was operating under Date Rules; eating the pepper would be a romantic test of his bravery.

He bit the pepper.

His skin was almost as pale as mine and he went bright red instantly, tears stood in his eyes as sweat broke out across his whole body in protest. He barely managed to swallow as he began coughing, his body reflexively trying to spew forth the poison in his mouth.

I was doubled over with laughter and didn’t feel bad until a few days later when Brendan informed me it had been a date. I scoffed initially and only slowly realized Charlie had been intending it as a date. I repented the pepper and promptly dated Brendan in self defense.

Charlies act of romantic heroism went unappreciated but the spirit was there.

Many years later when I’d given up on boys I was dating my beloved wife. Together we took a trip to Taiwan. One of the wonderful things about new places is the food. I still dream about the food in Taiwan. Even the humblest train station cream puff was several orders of magnitude better than any I’ve ever had in the states.

But one place we went was like. Italian food as interpreted by Taiwanese cooks. Some of the combos were as bizarre to me as many Italians probably feel American Italian food is. Specifics escape me, but it felt like I was dreaming some of the menu at the time. At the end we decided to get a chocolate fondue, because why not. We were on vacation.

The liquid chocolate was served with all the things one would normally expect, strawberries, sweets, the usual chocolate accompaniments. And then we saw the tomatoes. Tomatoes and chocolate. We all stared at the tomatoes in horrified fascination.

Now, I hate tomatoes. I can stand a tomato sauce but raw tomatoes and I have nothing to talk about. So I knew that if I tried it I’d find it as repugnant as I’ve always found tomatoes. But I was haunted by the idea that someone who actually liked tomatoes would like tomatoes in chocolate.

My beloved loves tomatoes. And chocolate. I turned the biggest puppy dog eyes on them and begged to know if the combination was actually somehow delicious. My wife insisted that it would be heinous. Still, they speared a tomato sacrifice and coated it in chocolate, for me. For me, they ate it.

It was so wretched that their face collapsed into instant regret. But they didn’t spit it out. They knew I got sick if people spit out half chewed food. So they soldiered on and swallowed the cursed chocolate fruit.

Their devotion utterly delighted me, and even years later I adore that they suffered that tomato to reassure me that indeed, it was bad.

[sluttywonwoo]

the roster | part one of three

pairing: christopher bahng + lee sangyeon + choi seuncheol x f!reader

summary: what happens when all the guys on your roster find out about each other?

warnings: see here (mdni!!!)

word count: 4.4k

series masterlist

You’d been set up. You should have known something was off when Sangyeon texted you to come over. He never texted you first. He was the most reserved of the three, always letting you be the one to reach out to him if you wanted to hook up. 

You shot him an accusatory glare but he pointedly avoided your gaze, choosing instead to stare at something on the ceiling that was apparently much more interesting.  

Seungcheol was the first to speak, of course. “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out?” 

You figured there was no point in lying. They already had you cornered. “Yeah, kind of.” The three of them scoffed in unison, making you hold up your hands in defense. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other like that!”

In fact, you had chosen each of them precisely because you thought there wouldn’t be any conflicts of interest. They were all in different groups, all the leaders of said groups which you thought would mean that they were almost always busy with their members. You didn’t think they had time for friends. Let alone friends who were of different ages and also leaders. 

Chris was the biggest gamble. You knew that he knows almost everyone in the industry and has a lot of friends but you didn’t think he knew the other two guys you were fucking well enough to put together that you were actually sleeping with all of them. 

Everything had been going so well. You had perfected your system over the months, using the boys’ schedules to your advantage so there was never any overlap. Seungcheol got weekends, Sangyeon got Wednesdays and Fridays, and Chris got 3ams on Tuesdays, Thursdays, (and sometimes Fridays if you weren’t sleeping over at Sangyeon’s) because that’s just when he was free. You keep your Mondays and the last full week of every month free so that you have time for yourself. Otherwise you’d drive yourself crazy spending all your time with men. 

You had never agreed to be exclusive with any of them. You made it more than clear that wasn’t what you were looking for. Still, they must have thought you weren’t seeing anyone else because all three of them had shown up to this confrontation and all three of them looked pissed. 

“Is it just the three of us?” Chris chimes in. 

“How much time do you think I have?” you mutter. 

“Just answer the question.”

You look away from them. “Yeah, there’s no one else.”

“Lucky us,” Seungcheol sneers. 

“Hey, you’re the one who said you wanted something casual,” you remind him, your tone icy. “You wanted to sleep around with no strings attached and I agreed.”

You’ve known Seungcheol the longest. You were friends first, through your job, but it quickly turned into something more. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other, spending nights and mornings together. Going to sleep and waking up and stealing kisses in elevators. Talking on the phone for hours and planning dates in the different cities he was touring in. 

He shut you down before you could get too delusional about it, though, stating plainly that all he wanted was a strict friends-with-benefits sort of situation. You still remember the feeling of your throat burning as you fought back tears, telling him that was perfectly fine, that you felt the same way. 

You couldn’t let yourself get too attached to a man who didn’t want you in the same way you wanted him so you looked for a distraction and found one in Lee Sangyeon. You met him through Jacob, a younger member of his group. Sangyeon was the perfect distraction. He was charming and funny, never one to take himself too seriously. He was a real gentleman and it didn’t hurt that he had a huge dick. 

You were the one to broach the topic of nonexclusivity with him this time, wanting to beat him to it. You knew exactly what all of these idols wanted. Choi Seungcheol had taught you that lesson early on. Sangyeon took it well, at least, as well as you expected him to. He told you he was on the same page as you, that he was just looking for something casual and you believed him. Now, looking at the expression on his face as he listens to the two other men talk, you’re not sure. 

And then Chris just sort of fell into your lap. You weren’t looking for anything else. Juggling two men was enough work. You just so happened to run into him at some after party, stopping him to compliment his music. One thing led to another and you were shoving your tongue down his throat in a dark closet. Apparently he had a thing for praise. 

Neither of you had to be the one to friend(swithbenefits)zone the other. You brought it up one night as you laid in his bed together and he was quick to agree. 

“Yeah, I don’t have time for anything more than... this, right now,” he sighed. He sounded a little regretful about it, like he thought he was being an asshole despite you voicing the same sentiment. 

So you hadn’t been doing anything wrong- even if your brain liked to tell you otherwise sometimes. You defined the (non)relationships with each of them, used protection with all of them, you weren’t leading anyone on... it had just so happened to get a little bit... messy, for lack of a better word. 

-

“No strings attached doesn’t mean I want you to fuck my friends!” Seungcheol huffs, running a hand through his hair. 

“I didn’t know you were friends with them!” you cry, throwing your head back onto the back of the couch in frustration and accidentally banging your head against the wall in the process. 

“Are you okay?” Sangyeon asks, wincing. 

The other two side-eye him. 

“I’m fine. But why am I here? Did you bring me here just to yell at me?”

“Not exactly,” Chris says, smirking. 

You look to the other men for an explanation but neither of them offer any further explanation. 

“Then why?”

Chris slides his hands in his front pockets and shrugs. “Well, if you’re up for it, the three of us thought we might have a little fun with you.”

“What does that mean?”

Seungcheol steps forward and mirrors Chan’s stance, cocking his head to the side for good measure. You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes, knowing it would only make things worse for you. 

To be fair, all the posturing would be a lot more annoying if they weren’t the hottest men you’d ever seen in your life. 

“I think you know what that means,” Cheol adds, supplying absolutely nothing helpful. 

“Obviously I don’t or I wouldn’t have asked,” you argue. 

Seungcheol whistles and then looks to his friends. “Is she this bratty with you guys?” Chris gives an ‘eh’ hand motion whilst Sangyeon nods outright. “Yeah, I figured.”

“Did you think you were getting special treatment?” you taunt, surprising even yourself. 

He scowls but doesn’t respond, probably in an effort to maintain some semblance of self-control in front of the other two. If it were just you and him, you’d have a hand around your throat already. And maybe that’s what you wanted. Maybe your mouth was working faster than your brain in order to get a specific... reaction out of them like you normally would. Or maybe your mouth just liked to get you in trouble. 

From the way they were acting, they obviously hadn’t lured you here just to hang out. It had to be some sort of sex thing, right? You certainly weren’t opposed, you just needed to figure out what game they were playing so that you could be dealt in. 

“We were curious about which one of us you like the most,” Chris says finally. At least someone was interested in getting to the fucking point. 

You blink at him then turn to look at Seungcheol who just nods in confirmation. “You want me to... rank you? Why?”

“You’re the one who has us on a little roster,” Sangyeon points out, sounding a little mean for the first time tonight. “Surely you’ve thought about it before.”

You shake your head. “I haven’t. I mean, I like all of you guys! I wouldn’t hang out with you if I didn’t.”

“We don’t care about hanging out, we want to know who you think is the best in bed,” Seungcheol clarifies. 

“What?”

“You know, who’s the best fuck?”

“Why do you even care?” you ask. “Like what are you getting out of this?”

“Just a little competition between friends,” Chris assures you with a wink. 

“I... wouldn’t even know where to start,” you insist. 

“We thought you might say that,” Seungcheol hums as he steps closer to you. “Which is why we thought we could test it in real time.”

“In real time?”

“Yeah, let us fuck you, then you tell us who’s best.”

“Right now?” 

Seungcheol shrugs. “You asked why we brought you here.”

“And you just assumed I’d be down?”

“Yeah,” all three of them say at the same time. 

It’s your turn to scoff. So that’s what they think of you. You shouldn’t have expected anything different, to be fair. It wasn’t like you were a saint. You literally had your dick appointments with all of them penciled into your Google Calendar every week. 

“C’mon, baby, we know you by now,” Chris adds, plopping down on the sofa next to you. He stretches his arm across the back of it like guys like to do, opening himself up for you to lean into him if you wanted to. “Are you saying you don’t want us to take turns fucking your brains out?”

You stay silent. 

“Should we take that as a yes?” Sangyeon asks. 

“I’d say so,” Chris agrees.

Seungcheol claps his hands together decisively and then points to the man sitting next to you. “Chan, you’re up first then, yeah? That’s how you do it in your group, right? Youngest first?”

He’s mocking him but Chris doesn’t acknowledge it. If there’s one thing you know about Bang Chan, it’s that he’s not one to back down from a challenge, and while going first in this sort of competition must be daunting he doesn’t look the least bit shaken. 

“Are we doing this here?” he asks the older two. 

Sangyeon considers it and shrugs. “We should probably move to the bed, right?” 

“Dude, it’s your house.”

“There’s more room on the bed,” Sangyeon decides, offering you his hand. 

You take it and he helps you up from the couch. You step in front of the boys and lead them to Sangyeon’s bedroom, calling “it’s this way,” over your shoulder just to be a menace. You can’t see the faces they make behind you but you hear Sangyeon chuckle under his breath. 

You flick on one of his table lamps and make yourself comfortable on the bed, patting the spot next to you for Chris to join you. He does and puts a hand on your thigh, squeezing your thigh comfortingly. Seungcheol and Sangyeon lean against the dresser across from the bed in the most non-awkward way they can manage. 

Somehow, they both still look intimidating despite the fact that they’re essentially about to be cucked by one of their closest friends. 

“What now?” you ask. 

Chris brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek and leans in. “Now, we do this.”

He kisses you gently at first. Whether it’s to ease your nerves or his own, you aren’t sure, but he starts slow, building up to what you’re used to. His thumb strokes your cheek as if to reassure you as he deepens the kiss and slips his tongue into your mouth. His other hand that had been resting on your hip fumbles with your pants. 

“Just pretend they aren’t there,” he whispers. 

It’s impossible to do when you can feel the weight of their stares on you but you try to relax anyway, reminding yourself that something like this has been a fantasy of yours for a while now. You never thought it would actually happen and you definitely didn’t think it would be with them but with your luck you honestly shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. 

“This isn’t going to work if you don’t relax,” Chris continues, low enough for only you to hear. “I kind of have something to prove here.”

“You don’t have anything to prove,” you assure him. “You’re great in bed.”

“They don’t know that,” he hisses. 

“Sorry, sorry, I forgot this is just a competition to you guys,” you grumble. 

He chuckles. “What, you want me to make love to you in front of them? Because I will.”

“I think that’d be even more embarrassing, somehow.” 

“Exactly, now lay down and let me fuck you brainless so you can’t overthink anymore.”

He had such a way with words, that Bang Chan did. 

He shifts so you can lay down and take your pants off. Your shirt goes next, leaving you in just your underwear. It’s the most exposed you’ve ever felt even though you’ve been completely naked in front of all three men before. 

Chris snaps the elastic waistband of your cotton panties against your hip and smirks. “Cute.”

You pout, ready to defend your granny panties but Sangyeon pipes up from the other side of the room before you can.

“She doesn’t care what she wears over to mine because she knows it won’t stay on long anyway.”

That was actually true. You dressed the most comfortably to hang out with Sangyeon because you knew he wouldn’t care. It wasn’t like Chris or Seungcheol cared more, and you didn’t really dress up for them either, but there was a notable difference between the amount of effort you put in for each man, something you hadn’t noticed until just now. 

“She wet yet?” Seungcheol asks, sounding bored. 

You know it’s just a front so his jealousy and impatience won’t shine through because it’s not a very good one. Seungcheol is not and never has been good at hiding his feelings. 

Chris shoots him a look. “I was getting to that.” 

Seungcheol holds his hands up in defense but thankfully keeps his mouth shut. 

Chris sucks in a breath of patience and brings his hand in between your legs, fingers tracing your slit. Your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment because you are, in fact, wet. You have been since they sat you down and stood in front of you like you were going to be scolded for doing something wrong. 

“Yeah, she’s fucking wet,” Chris rasps. “Jesus Christ, baby. I bet your joggers are ruined too.”

His teasing makes you try to close your thighs around his hand but his reflexes beat yours and he catches your knee to force your legs back open. 

“Nice try.”

“You’re the worst.”

His fingers start to wander beneath the fabric of your panties, feather light touches that already have you gasping for breath. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do, I really do.”

“Want me to stop?” he threatens.

“What happened to having something to prove?” you mutter back. 

“Always such a fucking brat,” he muses, jaw tight. 

“Don’t act like you don’t love that about me.”

“You’re consistent, I’ll give you that.”

Chris leans down and kisses you again, presumably to get you to stop talking. It works, of course. He lets his tongue explore your mouth while his hands explore your body, still not giving you what you really want. 

Eventually, he slips a finger inside, taking you by surprise and making you gasp as you grab at him for something to squeeze. He offers you his arm and you take it, fingernails digging into his bicep. 

“It’s just one finger, baby,” Chris coos. 

“Feels.... good, though,” you squeak. 

He adds another right as you start to get used to the feeling of the first and you have to take a deep breath to keep yourself from making another embarrassing noise. 

“Don’t hold back. Let the boys know how good I’m making you feel.”

Seungcheol scoffs, tonguing his cheek. “You don’t have to fake it for him, babe.” 

“Are you sure you guys are friends?” you pant. 

They don’t answer, leaving you to draw the conclusions yourself. You’re sure they were friends... whether they would be after this was another story. 

Chris crooks his fingers up, knowing you won’t be able to stay quiet once he does. He’s right. You moan, albeit quietly, and arch into his touch. 

“So what are the parameters of this competition?” Chris asks the other two and turns his head towards them while he continues to work his fingers in and out of you. 

“What do you mean?” Sangyeon asks back. 

“Like, does foreplay count? Or is she judging solely based on our stroke game?”

Seungcheol considers it for a moment before looking to Sangyeon. “What do you think?”

“I think the judgment should include foreplay,” he says. “Foreplay is part of sex after all.”

“Good point,” Chris agrees. “Any other rules?” They shake their heads. “What about you, baby? Do you have any rules for us?”

You purse your lips as you think, trying not to lose focus with his fingers inside of you. “Just don’t go too hard. I do have to work on Monday.”

It’s only Friday night now, but knowing them, you’ll probably be sore for at least a couple of days afterward. 

Chris laughs. “We’ll do our best. Right, guys?”

They mumble what sounds like an agreement and Sangyeon even gives you a thumbs-up. 

“Can I keep going?” Chris asks you. 

“You didn’t really stop,” you point out.

He had still been fingering you lazily throughout the whole aside. It wasn’t enough to get you off but it was certainly distracting. You had to try very hard to concentrate on what they were saying. 

“C’mon, this is nothing,” he teases, bringing his thumb to your clit as he starts to kiss your neck. “How’s that?” he murmurs into your ear, 

“G-good...”

“Just good? Must be doing something wrong, then.”

Before you can deny it, he adds a third finger, earning a loud cry from you this time. You feel him grin against your throat, hiding his smug satisfaction from the other two. 

“Spread your legs wider for me, baby. Let them see.”

You do as you’re told even though it’s hard. It’s so much. You want to squeeze them around his hand again but you know you’ll only get told off if you do. 

“Good girl,” he praises, making you whimper. 

“That’s all it takes, doesn’t it?” Seungcheol mutters. “We just have to call you a good girl and you’re making a mess all over us, right?”

You squirm, arousal and embarrassment pooling in your belly. You can tell Chris wants to give Cheol shit for butting in when it’s supposed to be his turn, but he doesn’t because his words are technically helping him. You get even wetter around his fingers, a detail Chris elects not to share with the room. 

You’re sure they can see it, though, or at least hear it. The sounds are obscene. 

It’s mortifying. You want to die. But first you want to cum. 

Two of your favorite things about Chris are his hands. They’re huge, especially for a guy his height, and absolutely gorgeous. Thick veins run across the backs of them from his knuckles up through his forearms- he’s a nurse’s wet dream, and yours. You’ve spent an absurd amount of time tracing them with your own fingers when you’re laying in bed together after hooking up and more often than not, it’s enough to make you want to go again. 

He’s good with them too because of course he is. Bang Chan is annoyingly good at everything he does, including but not limited to: making you cum. 

“Already?” Chris muses under his breath. “Does having an audience turn you on that much?”

“Sh-shut up.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone who can take their fingers away any time they want to.”

“No, please!” you protest.

“That’s what I thought. Do you want to cum on my fingers? Or should I make you wait for it?” He’s talking to himself at this point but you answer anyway. 

“I-I don’t know...”

“Probably should let you, huh? You’re still so tight.”

You don’t get another word out before it hits you, your body curling in on Chan’s hand as he finger fucks you through your first orgasm of the night. As soon as you come down, he’s taking his fingers out of you and sucking them into his mouth, kissing you right after so you can taste yourself on his lips. 

“Good job, baby,” he murmurs into your mouth as he adds his tongue back into the mix. “Ready for me now?”

“Mhm...”

“Condoms are in the nightstand,” Sangyeon says, nodding in the direction of the bedside table. 

Chris reaches over and pulls the drawer out, whistling at the other things he finds rolling around in the compartment. 

“This hers?” he asks, holding up a vibrator.

“Who else’s would it be?” Sangyeon mutters. 

“I don’t know what you do in your free time, man.”

He drops the toy back in its place and grabs a condom from the box tucked in the corner of the same drawer. The odds of one size fitting three different men were slim, but having slept with each of them you’re sure they’ll be able to make it work. 

Chris hands you the foil packet, allowing you to do the honors of tearing it open with your teeth while he works on getting naked. 

Seungcheol whistles jeeringly at Chan as he takes his cock out and pumps it a couple of times. You can see the back of Chan’s neck flush red but he remains steady as he rolls the latex on. You realize it must be difficult for him to have an audience too, though he has nothing to be self conscious about. Even if they aren’t showing it, you know the other two have to be impressed.

He’s the perfect balance of long and thick and just like his hands, defined veins run up the length of his shaft. You’ve spent what feels like hours tracing those veins with your tongue, watching him shiver under your touch. Most dicks aren’t pretty but Christopher Bahng’s certainly is.

“Ready?” Chris asks, rubbing your thigh with his palm.  

“Yeah,” you breathe.

Since he already made you cum, he’s able to slip in without much resistance- but he’s big enough that the stretch is still intense, making your eyes roll back in pleasure as you stifle a whimper. 

He gives you a moment to adjust once he’s fully inside you, teasing only a little bit with slight movements of his hips. 

“God, that feels good,” you moan.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs sweetly, “you’re taking it so well for me.”

He brushes a couple of strands of hair out of your eyes so that you can see him properly. Obstructed view or not, he’s beautiful on top of you. His own bangs have already started to stick to his forehead and the pink flush of embarrassment has somewhat faded and turned into that of exertion, spreading from the back of his neck to his chest and face and matching the kiss-bitten swell of his lips. The muscles in his arms and shoulders are engaged with the effort it takes to hold himself above you, making him look even bigger. 

His eyes are soft, even as the rest of his features take on a more sinister expression. That was one of the things that made sex with Chris so good. He genuinely cares for you, not just as a lover, but as a person. Lots of guys put effort into making the other party feel good during sex but that doesn’t mean they care about them. It’s not like that with Chris. 

“Want it faster?” he asks you. You nod. “Ask nicely.”

You should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. 

“Please...”

He frees one of his hands and uses it to stroke your cheek. “‘Please,’ what?”

“Faster,” you squeak. 

“Is that the best you can do?” Seungcheol scoffs from the sidelines. 

“I’ll let her off easy this time,” Chris responds. “She can hardly think straight as it is, isn’t that right?”

Another nod. 

You get what you want and Chan picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours in quick, shallow thrusts. 

“You’re getting tighter again,” he grunts, faltering imperceptibly. “You’re making this too easy for me.”

One of the other two makes what you assume is a snide remark but you don’t catch it because everything starts to fade into the background as you start to cum around Chan’s cock. It catches both of you off guard, you can tell. It isn’t unusual for you to finish from penetration alone but it usually takes a lot longer. 

“Holy shit, you’re so- fuck, you’re going to make me cum.”

He keeps going after you come down, chasing his own release. It’s almost enough to send you into a third orgasm but he cums before you can get there which is both a relief and a disappointment. 

You whine as the feeling ebbs and let yourself go boneless underneath him. He follows suit and collapses face first next to you on the mattress. 

“Sorry,” he whispers to you. “I would’ve kept going but I didn’t want you to be too sensitive for them.”

You nod in understanding and pat him appreciatively on the back. 

The room is quiet as the three men wait for you to catch your breath. Chris ensures you’re okay before rolling off the bed and joining the other two by the dresser. He mentions something about cleaning you up when you’re all done and offers to fetch you a glass of water. 

“There’s a Brita in the fridge,” Sangyeon tells him after also pointing him in the direction of the cabinet that holds the cups. 

He disappears into the hall and you gather what little strength you have to pop your head up and address the two remaining leaders at the foot of the bed. 

“Who’s next?”

this has been in the works for way too long lol but lmk what you think! i always appreciate feedback!!

tags: @minghaosimp @butterfliesinthenightsky @lelestarmy @stolasisyourparent @brownbunnyb @tinkerbell460 @cixrosie

add yourself to the taglist here

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You go through a whirlwind of emotions when drunk.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: drunk!reader, Reader annoying Sirius

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: James Potter x drunk!Reader

You were slumped between James and Sirius, giggling uncontrollably, your legs swinging off the armrest of the couch as you hiccuped. The room was warm, and everything felt so funny. Especially Sirius's hair.

"You know what, Pads?" you slurred, poking Sirius in the cheek. "You look like a... a giant poodle. But a mean one. Like, the poodles at the dog shows that bite people."

Sirius's jaw dropped. “A poodle? You—no, absolutely not. I am—what did you say I was, James?”

James was trying not to laugh. "Uh, majestic, I think."

"Majestic!" Sirius pointed at you dramatically, like that would prove his point.

You snorted so hard you almost fell off the couch, but James caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist and steadying you. "Sure, sure, 'Padfoot the Majestic Poodle.'"

"It's mostly because of your hair—" you giggled, reaching out to pat the top of his head, missing entirely and booping his nose instead. "It's so fluffy, like a big, angry puppy!"

Sirius frowned, swatting your hand away dramatically. "I am not a dog, and my hair is majestic, thank you very much."

"Fluffy," you repeated, poking him in the cheek now. "Sirius, fluffy like a… like a poodle!"

James tried to hold back a laugh as Sirius looked properly offended, folding his arms with a huff. "Are you serious?"

You snorted at his pun. "No, you’re Sirius!"

Remus groaned from beside Peter. "Oh no. Not this again."

Peter shook his head, barely holding back his own giggles. "Here we go…"

“Are you lot serious right now?” Sirius grumbled, crossing his arms. “A poodle. Really.”

“Sirius is serious,” you added, and then cracked up at your own joke. “Sirius is Sirius—wait, Remus, did you hear that? It’s his name.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, we got it.”

“But I’m not a poodle,” Sirius muttered, still offended, while you continued to giggle.

James still eyed the bottle of firewhiskey in your hand like he wanted to take it away. Not that you noticed. Nope. You were too busy trying to poke Sirius in the cheek.

“You’ve got—got something there,” you slurred, leaning in far too close to Sirius’s face.

“What? Where?” Sirius asked, looking genuinely concerned as he wiped at his cheek. “Did I get dirt on me?”

“Yeah, it’s called your face,” you giggled, falling back onto James and laughing like it was the funniest thing you’d ever said.

Sirius gasped dramatically, hand over his heart. “How dare you! James, do you hear this? Your girlfriend is cruel.”

You waved him off, turning your attention back to James, who was trying not to smile. “He’s just mad ‘cause he’s not as pretty as you,” you said, squinting up at James like you were stating the most obvious fact in the world. You reached out and patted his face, a little too hard. “So. Pretty.”

James chuckled, grabbing your hand before you could slap him again. “Alright, love, I think you’ve had enough for one night.”

“Noooooo,” you whined, stretching out the word. “M’fine, Jamie. Look! I can sit up perfectly straight.” You immediately leaned to the side, almost toppling over onto Peter, who yelped and quickly scooted out of the way.

“Maybe… maybe a little too much,” Remus said from beside Peter, watching with raised eyebrows.

“Remus!” you called, throwing your arms out toward him. “You’re so boring, you know that?”

“Hey, I like boring,” Peter mumbled from his chair, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, Wormtail likes boring!” you repeated, pointing to Peter like he was your greatest proof.

You sat up suddenly, looking around the room, eyes wide and dramatic. “Wait. Wait. You guys can’t ever leave me, okay? Promise.”

The Marauders exchanged confused looks. “Uh—okay?” Peter said hesitantly.

“I’m serious—not like Sirius serious—" you hiccuped, "But you guys can’t leave. We have to stay friends forever or I’ll—I’ll hex all of you!” You threw your hands up, trying to look menacing, but it came off more like a flailing octopus.

James quickly wrapped his arms around you as you dramatically collapsed into his chest. “Love, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sirius muttered, though he was still looking somewhat offended by your earlier insult. “I don’t think I can handle another ‘your face is the problem’ comment.”

But you weren’t having it. You pointed a shaky finger at them, wobbling slightly. “You better not, Sirius Black! Or I’ll—” You narrowed your eyes dramatically, trying to look intimidating. “I’ll hex you into next week! I know spells, you know!”

James bit his lip, trying not to laugh as Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What spells?”

“Spells!” you repeated, waving your hands in the air as if that was a valid explanation. “Dangerous ones!”

Peter snorted. “I’m terrified.”

Sirius held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Merlin, you’re scary when you’re drunk.”

“Good,” you said, immediately softening. “Because I love you guys, even though Sirius is a poodle, and Remus won’t laugh at my jokes, and Peter—well, Pete, you’re just so cute, aren’t you?”

“Thanks,” Peter mumbled.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you reached out, pulling all of them into a big, awkward group hug. “I just love you guys, okay? Don’t leave me… ever.”

James chuckled, his hand warm on your back. "Alright, let's get you to bed, yeah?"

“I don’t wanna go to bed,” you pouted, leaning into James like a rag doll. “I wanna stay here and annoy Sirius more.”

“I’m not listening to this nonsense,” Sirius huffed, throwing his hands up.

“Oh, but Sirius—don’t you wanna cuddle like a big, fluffy dog?” you teased, blinking innocently.

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to regret this in the morning.”

James stood up, pulling you gently with him. “C’mon, love, you’re barely standing.”

“Wait, no, no, no—you're all amazing, even you, Remus, boring and all.” You paused, eyes widening as if you had just realized something horrible. “Wait—don’t ever leave me, guys.”

Your lower lip started to wobble.

“Don’t leave me! You can’t! What if you just disappeared? Poof! Gone! And I’m all alone. I’ll die. I’ll actually die.”

James squeezed your hand, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I think you’re driving everyone mad, love.”

You looked up at him, beaming. “But not you, right, Jamie?” you gushed, running your fingers through his messy hair, making it even worse. “You’re perfect, James Potter. Like… a Quidditch god! And your glasses are so… shiny.”

Sirius fake gagged. “Ugh, I’m gonna be sick.”

“Shush, poodle!” you shot back at him, your words blending together into a cute mess of slurs. “You’re just jealous ‘cause James is my shiny glasses boy.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile tugging at his lips. Peter was full-on laughing now, while James was just gazing at you, completely smitten.

You huffed but allowed him to help you stand. “You’re the best, James,” you said, leaning heavily on him as he started to guide you toward the stairs.

“You’re pretty great yourself,” James chuckled, tightening his grip on your waist so you wouldn’t stumble.

Just before you reached the dormitory, you stopped, looking up at him with bleary eyes. “No, really, Jamie. You’re the best. Don’t ever change.”

James grinned down at you, his heart melting a little. “I won’t, love. Now let’s get you to bed before you start threatening to hex me too.”

You smiled sleepily, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “I’d never hex you. You’re too pretty.”

And with that, you were out, leaving James with a fond smile and the rest of the Marauders shaking their heads behind him.

Downstairs, Sirius was still sulking. “A poodle… unbelievable.”

i love drunk!reader so much!!

[backinmyphase]

Not my honeymoon

Synopsis: A household of an arranged marriage with Gojo Satoru wasn't easy. And as the pressure from the higher ups was becoming more and more there was something to discuss. Your honeymoon.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 3000 words

Not really satisfied with this but I hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist!

"Are you okay, Gojo?"

No, he was definitely not. He wasn't since all of this started. Since he was destined to marry you. But now as he looked at you it was a different kind of not okay.

What did he do???

You looked sad, no, devastated. Ever since you two ate breakfast together every morning, he thought you would look more relaxed. Maybe even comfortable.

But you seemed to put up a barrier everytime he asked something. And then there was the name.

You still called him Gojo. Even though you were now named the same.

You so carefully kept your distance and you had this sad look in your eyes.

He was worried.

"Yeah, of course." he returned to eating his breakfast. After a bit of silence he opened his mouth again and was surprised he could speak.

"Are you? You look tense."

Your body tensed up again as you looked at him and he wanted to punch himself. He made you uncomfortable, didn't he?

"I am, no worries." you didn't raise your head.

Where did his confidence go? His charisma? His social skills?

Something about his wife made all these so important and natural things dissappear.

The silence spoke loud and the sounds of the eating didn't cover enough of it.

This silence wasn't unusual. In fact it was almost always there when you ate breakfast together. So all the time you saw each other.

And no, he didn't like it. For some reason, on which Satoru couldn't put his finger on, he desperately wanted to know you. He wanted to make peace with you, maybe even be friends with you.

But you seemed so untouchable, he couldn't describe it.

"Well…" Satoru cringed at the sound of his voice. "I have to go to work now."

He stood up and made his way to the door where he made himself ready. "See you later. Have a nice da-"

"Wait, Gojo." Your voice sounded so hesitant, it scared him. "Can we talk later?"

As he looked at you, his whole mind went blank. He felt like he was gonna die. Why did you look at him like that? What did you wanna talk about? Why not now?

"Sure, I can try to come home earlier." He tried to keep his voice steady, but his whole strongest being was shaking in fear.

"Great." you nodded with a neutral look that did NOT scream 'Great'. "Then have a good day at work."

"Thank you, you have a nice day too."

He was going to die, wasn't he?

~

"You look like a corpse." Suguru was always soo considerate.

Satoru sighed as he sat down next to his friend. "Just give me the missions."

His best friend raised an eyebrow. "You know, you should attend the meetings for a change. I'm not always gonna be able to get your missions for you."

"Yeah, you are right Suguru, what would I ever do without you? You are such a good friend." Satoru yawned as he waved his hand.

"Would you please be so kind and enlighten me where I have to be today?"

"I'm going to overlook that sarcasm for today." Suguru handed him a piece of paper. "Here's the list for today."

As Satoru looked at the very long list in horror, Suguru spoke again. "But for real, you look terrible. I thought things were going fine in your marriage?"

"Of course they want me working overtime today." Satoru groaned. "I swear one day I will make all of the higher ups-"

"Satoru, what's wrong?"

He stopped in his rant and sighed. "She wants to talk."

Suguru raised his eyebrow again. "And that's bad, why exactly?"

"Because she always looks like I killed her pet or something like that!" Satoru whined and looked at his paper.

"She doesn't like me."

Suguru shrugged with his shoulders. "I mean, you still didn't apologize."

As Satoru didn't say anything, Suguru continued. "And you also don't really talk to her. How can you expect her to like you yet?"

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." Satoru whispered. Holding his list up, he begged Suguru. "Can you take some of my missions? Please?"

Shacking his head, suguru laughed. "That one time was an exception, I had to work three days in a row for that Satoru. I'm sorry but I have lots of missions too. It's the season."

Satoru just nodded. He had seen this coming.

30 missions in only 12 hours?

It would be a challenge. And it would cause him a little trouble.

But would he give up?

He smiled to himself.

~

You didn't have any time anymore.

The letters of your mother became overbearing, asking where you and Gojo will go for your honeymoon. Asking, that you have surely talked with him about it?

No, you didn't. In fact you were too nervous to even look at him.

You were relieved that he didn't seem to despise you, since he and you ate together now. But he also didn't talk to you and that made you question yourself.

Did he even want to talk?

You needed more time. So much more time. How could they all expect, that you could just sleep with him?

No that just was absurd.

"Mrs. Gojo? How are you feeling today?"

Hina really liked you over the time. Her smile somehow made all of this a bit lighter.

How could you survive a week without her? Just with your husband and the pressure to do something?

"Alright. How are you feeling?" you smiled back, trying to hide your nervousness.

"Perfect, like always." She answered right away, bowing a bit. "Would you like a snack?"

You chuckled a bit. "I can get myself a snack, Hina, you really don't have to."

She shook her head. "Nonsense, it is my job to make you food." She smiled at you knowingly. "And I also get paid for it."

You laughed a bit. "Well, I think my husband will keep paying you even when you make me a snack less."

"If you think so Mrs. Gojo." she made a little curtsy and laughed as she went into the kitchen.

You smiled to yourself as you looked after her. You would miss her on your honeymoon.

Oh god the honeymoon…

~

"Could you please just die?!" Gojo was annoyed as fuck as the curse before him just kept sneaking into barriers and hiding from him.

Normally he wouldn't be this mad.

But he had to be home in time today. And as the curse escaped a crazy laugh at him his anger only rose.

His finger twitched. He wanted to just open his domain and make puddle of this pathetic being. But there were still people near and it would be a bit overkill.

So he had to work with red and blue.

And he had to be fast.

"Gojo Satoruuuhuuuuuu." the distorted voice of the curse spoke underneath him. So smugly, that Satoru felt like laughing.

"Found you."

Hollow purple.

As the cursed energy of the curse slowly disappeared Satoru looked at his list. Still 4 curses in 4 locations. And only 30 minutes till 9 pm.

He had to be faster. Before you would think he didn't care.

If there was just one more stupid barrier, he swore he would-

Goddammit.

~

It was almost 8:51 as you thought you should just eat and go to sleep.

Maybe you would find the courage to talk to him tomorrow too and everything would be fine.

Maybe.

"Should we serve dinner, Mrs. Gojo?" Hina looked at you and waited patiently for your answer.

And as you looked at her something in you switched.

"Wait. My husband isn't home yet, we will wait for him."

Hina chuckled and nodded. She smiled knowingly as she went into the kitchen.

You looked at the clock. 8:56 pm.

You sighed as you sat there. Playing with your glass, you wondered.

Would Gojo even want a honeymoon?

If he didn't, that would be a problem. The higher ups were persistent of you two going somewhere in japan to have 'enough time'.

Your glass seemed to shake, nerarly breaking.

What would you do? What would you tell them? What, what, what-

Forcefully the door opened and Gojo stood there.

A Gojo stained with blood, his blindfold pulled down, looking at you with big eyes.

"What did you want to talk-"

"Why are you bloody-"

You talked at the same time, looking confused at each other. You waited for an answer, as he looked at you confused.

"What do you mean, bloody?" he looked down. Then his eyes widened and he chuckled. "Oh, you don't have to worry, it's not mine."

What did he mean 'don't worry'? He looked like he was out of a horror movie!

Perplexed you looked at him. "Is this all from the curses-?"

"Anyway you wanted to talk?" only now he closed the door behind him.

You blinked at him. Two times. Three times. Then you looked down. "Yeah. But if you are to tired, we can also talk tomorrow -" or the day after, or the day after that day, or…

"I'm not too tired, don't worry." He looked behind you at the empty table. "Did you already eat?"

Just as you wanted to answer, Hina stepped in and took the opportunity to speak. "Mrs. Gojo, now that Mr. Gojo is here, should we serve the food?"

You looked at her and just nodded.

"Well, then." Gojo clapped one time. "We can talk as we eat, right? Then let's sit down."

He took your chair and you wanted to ask what he wanted to do, as he pulled it and offered you the seat. You just sat down and muttered a small thanks.

He smiled, he smiled?, and went to his seat on the opposite side of the table looking at you full of expectation.

Your mind was blank. All the words you so carefully constructed to sentences were all gone. The only thing in your head was the question:

What if Gojo didn't want a honeymoon?

"You waited for me to eat?"

You looked up to Gojo and he smiled at you again. Since when was he so talkative??

"Yeah, I did."

Your voice was much more quiet as you wanted. But he didn't seem to mind as he looked at you with that sparkle in his eyes.

Or maybe his eyes always looked like that.

"Thank you. But you don't have to do that. Most of the time I work much too long for you to stay up and not eat."

"Well, maybe we could still eat dinner together sometimes."

Your mouth spoke without your permission and his widening smile made your head dizzy.

"Your food. We hope you enjoy your meal." Hina placed dinner onto the table bowed a bit and then went into the kitchen as fast as she could.

"Soooooo." Gojo looked down at his food. "What did you wanna talk about?"

"Well…" you stopped, weighing your options of what you could say. Oh, just say it. "I wanted to discuss your honeymoon."

As you looked up you saw two big blue eyes blinking at you. "Our honeymoon? Ohhhhhhhhhhhh"

His shoulders visibly starting to relax as he sighed of relief. A smile forming on his lips again. "Whew, I thought I did something wrong. You had me scared, you know."

"I had you scared?" you looked at him in disbelief. "You came in like a madman covered in blood!"

"Oh, trust me." Gojo leaned back. "That's not nearly as terrifying as my wife, when she is angry at me. She can get really mad, you know?"

You couldn't hide the disbelief in your face and just shook your head. But slowly a smile was forming on your lips. "You're stupid."

Satoru chuckled again and took a bite of the food. Then he looked at you again. "Yeah, yeah. But back to the topic."

Leaning a bit forward, he raised an eyebrow. "Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?"

His voice sounded so casually you felt dumb. "Oh, I don't know. I wanted to ask you."

He tilted his head. "Do you even want to have a honeymoon?"

"What-" panic flooded you as you thought about the higher ups. "Of course!"

"If you say so." he didn't seem convinced but nodded. "But there has to be a place you always wanted to go."

You shook your head. "No, not really. You can decide."

His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "Is there no country you ever wanted to go to?"

"No!" you spoke so fast, you couldn't stop yourself from your panic taking over. "I mean- I would like to be in Japan."

He kept silent as he inspected you. And then he sighed. "I have nothing against it, if that's what you want. But you seem so on edge."

You looked down. "Sorry. This…" your throat tightens but you manage to say the words in your mind. "It's just very important."

He blinked at you again and then smiled so softly, you didn't know Satoru could even look at you like that. "It's okay, but if you are too focused on making it perfect, it sabotages itself, doesn't it?"

You couldn't bear his words. The voice of your mother played so loudly in your right ear.

Be a good wife. Be a good wife. Be a good wife be a good wife beagoodwife-

"Would you like to go to a quiet place?" Satoru chuckled to himself. "I wouldn't say no to it."

He looked so sincere. Never before had he talked to you like that. Of course you did have some small talk about his day and what you read the last day, but he seemed so relaxed and like himself right now.

Was this the charismatic Gojo Satoru so many people told you about?

"I would like that." you whispered.

"Hina?" His gaze focused on the girl who quickly emerged from the kitchen. "You and your grandma lived in Shirahama, didn't you?"

She nodded quickly and smiled. "Yes, it's nice there. A bit of the ocean to see and plenty of nature."

She looked at you expectantly. "It's really relaxing, Mrs. Gojo."

Somehow, her shy look made you smile too. "Well, we'll have to go and see it then."

Hina smiled at you with sparkling eyes and bowed a bit again. "You won't regret it!"

"Definitely not!" Satoru laughed a bit. "Then that's settled."

"What-" he looked at his food and continued eating without a care in the world. How could he just carelessly think that that was it?

"But we still have to discuss everything with the higher-ups!"

The atmosphere became much colder along with his gaze. He had stopped eating and his gaze pierced you.

His figure suddenly sitting up straight, his arms to the side, he raised his head.

"Why should I discuss our honeymoon with them?"

The words were caught up in your throat.

You looked down at your food and tried to justify your silence by eating.

"Did you just want to talk to me because of them?" his voice was so much colder than it had been seconds before.

You frantically swallowed your food. "No, I… It wasn't that, really!"

The lies were hard to get off your lips. But he couldn't know about the meetings, no, he simply couldn't!

He was silent. His gaze was lowered and you could no longer see his beautiful blue eyes.

"I wanted to… Get to know you better. We hardly know each other." You pointed to the food table.

"I think it's good that we're eating together now, but that hardly adds anything. I just wanted… For us to have more time together."

When he still didn't say anything, you lowered your head too. "It's just… I thought we still had to organize everything with them? Because of your work and clan duties?"

Gojo chuckled and you heard him looking up. "As if they could fight back. We can just leave."

His voice halled through the room. "And we will tomorrow."

"What?" Shocked, you looked at him. "You can't be serious, can you?"

A huge grin was forming on his face. "You still have to learn how serious I can be. We're leaving tomorrow."

He pulled out his cell phone and typed something. "One of my clan employees will arrange our trip."

"Gojo, we can't just leave!"

"Why not?" he looked deep into your eyes. "Why can't we just say 'fuck them'?"

You shook your head. "Maybe you could, Gojo, but not me! I would disgrace my clan!"

Gojo stood up abruptly. "This is our honeymoon! Your honeymoon! What they think doesn't matter! You're my wife now, those bastards have to respect you! Understand that!"

"It's not that simple." You could only whisper.

He shook his head. "Nevertheless let's go tomorrow. I'll write a letter to your mother and explain that I just took you with me."

He approached your seat. "You wouldn't be to blame."

As if she would think it wasn't your fault. They'd all curse you because then they wouldn't know where you two even were.

But wasn't that what you wanted?

"I'm going to sleep." Determined, you headed for your room. You needed to clear your thoughts.

"We can talk about it again in the morning. And maybe go straight away." He followed you to your door.

"There would be consequences." Something in your voice trembled. "Just running off like that."

And as you stood there, your door to your room already in your hand, he stepped right behind you. His body closer than ever.

Shouldn't Infinity be pushing you back? Why could you feel his warmth, almost feel his breath?

"I could handle that." His hand now held your door.

"I want to get to know you better too."

With that, he let go of your door and left you standing in the hallway, confused.

Taglist:

@zoeyflower @bubera974 @ssetsuka @lady-of-blossoms @peqch-pie

@karlaolea @slut-for-fictional-men @tnt-kokoo @gojoscumslut @sillyfreakfanparty

@tbzzluvr

@emi311 @the-number7 @o-ikawaii @doodle-cat16 @yozora7154

@levisfavoriteteashop @roscpctals99 @starlightglimmersworld @manyuyuu

@dahliawarner @aliisinwonderland @lov3vivian @inthedarkshadows000

@haikyuusimpsblog @sheismaryy @asahinasstuff @honeydew-cheesecake

@sanriosatoru @kimsrie @444na0m1 @humongousdreamlandbear

@elitesanjisimp @dummyf @elernity

@s4ikooo1 @roseyposeylemonsquozey @shitforbrainsmal

@mo0nforme @local-mr-frog @blkmystery

[lexawoah13]

TO-DO Oneshot

Synopsis: when a regular shooting of TO-DO has a hitch, the director is left begging his staff to fill in the parts of the models who failed to show up. What could go wrong when you get paired up with Soobin, the man you’ve been crushing on for months?

Warnings: oral (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, cum talk, fingering, handjob, fantasy play, inappropriate photos, bunny suit, let me know if I miss something!

Word Count: 10K

Tag list(open btw): @sooluving

The day started simple enough. You showed up to work ready to film the TO-DO episode scheduled for today. Setting up the props and getting everything organized before the guys show up for makeup, when you are approached by the director.

“Y/N! We need your help!? PLEASEEE PLEASE SAY YOU’LL DO IT!?” falling to his knees and bowing in desperation.

“Oh god! what’s going on?!”

“The male models that were supposed to show up today for the episode are a no show! We have no idea where they are and we have to begin shooting in 20 minutes. The guys are already fully booked for the rest of the day so we can’t hold them up”

“Okay so what do you want me to….”realization washes over you of what he’s about to ask you ”OH NO! NO! Nonononono NO WAY am i wearing those things in front of THEM” you refute his pleading. There was no way in HELL you were modeling those costumes for the 5 men you considered your friends. Your relationship with the members developed into quite the friendship from sitting in your chair. You hang out with them outside of work and there is no way you are giving them that leverage over you. You would never live it down, especially as long as Beomgyu was alive.

You see, today’s episode was supposed to consist of the guys drawing live models in their respective animal suits. Only it was supposed to be male models in pretty revealing Halloween versions of said animals. You know, corsets, masks, ears, and very short skirts (if you were ever so lucky).

“Y/N PLEASE! You will only have to model 1 and it will be in a private room so the others won't even see you. We will also blur your face when it airs so no one can see you. Actually it will probably be your whole body. PLEASE! pleasepleasepleaseplease PLEASE WE ARE DESPERATE!”

You think it over. “I want what the models were being paid”

“OF COURSE I’ll give you double! Please”

You turn around and mull it over again in your head. To be honest the only two you wouldn’t want to model in front of were Beomgyu and Soobin. Beomgyu for obvious reasons. The menace would torture you afterwards and never let you breathe peacefully without bringing you up in that “bear” costume (if you could even call it that). Soobin on the other hand… it wasn’t because he would be disrespectful or anything, honestly he would probably be the easiest one to model for. But, the fact that you’re completely head over heels for the man and the idea of him seeing you exposed like that makes you want to die. Picturing his eyes on you at all would make you a complete mess.

“I’LL GIVE YOU A RAISE! PLEASE” the director breaks you out of your thoughts.

Fuck you could really use the raise….”how will the outfits be chosen?” you ask, trying to convince yourself to do this for the money.

“Random draw. No one really wants to do this and that seems like the fairest way.”

“Fine.” you exhale, unable to believe you're actually gonna do this. “I’ll do it. But you're also buying me lunch for a month!”

“DONE! You are an absolute godess you know that!”

“Yeah yeah.. Let's get this over with”

You walk over to the other staff who were going to do this with you, seeing a couple of your work friends also in the circle.

“He got you too, huh?” one of the producers asks you

“Yeah…” you say defeated

“Figured he would. Especially since you and the guys are so close” another says from the styling department

“Yea but this is too much… fuck! if i get Soobin or Gyu i’m gonna off myself” you sigh

“Yea i can’t imagine you in front of Soobin, especially in that bunny girl fit. You’re so in love with him it's crazy he hasn't noticed yet” one of the junior assistants teases

“SHHHHHHH! Can you not! What if he pops up and hears you!” you cover her mouth

“Omg they're not even here yet. You know they let us know as soon as they enter the building over the walkies'' the stylist teases

“Ughhhh.. Can we just do this? Put me out of my misery”

“Okay but we have to promise no switches after we pick! Keep it fair! We all know no one wants to be with Beomgyu because of the teasing we will have to endure from him for the rest of our lives. So no whining, just do it!” one of the senior writers says, putting her hand in the middle to signify making a pact.

“Fine!” you place your hand on top of the others showing you agree. The hat is grabbed by your senior and she holds it in the middle “on 3 we all reach in and pick one” everyone nods “1” she starts

“I mean my odds are 3 out of 5”

“2” she side eyes you continuing the countdown

“So it's not that bad. “ you continue trying to reassure yourself

“3”

“It’s only 2 names I don't really want so what are the chances..” you continue rambling while you all reach in for the costumes.

Everyone opens their slips at the same time and you feel your blood turn cold, “fuck” you say under your breath.

Everyone goes around saying their costume

“Fox/ Yeonjun”

“Penguin/ Kai”

“Fucking bear” the stylist says annoyed “kill me now”

“Cat/ Taehyun”

Which only leaves you. Everyone staring with Giant grins plastered on their faces at your horror..

“Bunny… Soobi-”

“They’ve arrived everyone in positions” blasts over the walkies.

‘Fuck. fuck. FUCKKKKK!’ plays over and over again in your brain as you walk to the dressing room, set with your suit.

Opening the door, you see the white satin, corseted one piece. With matching white fluffy ears and wrist bands. Accompanied by white pumps and white thigh high tights, each having white fur on them as well. You also assumed there was a large fluffy white tail on the back of your suit.

The director knocks on the door

“Come in”

“Oh it’s you… see you got the bunny suit…” he cringes for you

“Yeahhhh…” you say barely above a whisper

“This will be interesting” he silently chuckles to himself, resulting in you death glaring him

Clearing his throat “anyways… can you just put your hair up in a high ponytail with some curls? For makeup keep it light but add some extra blush on your nose to look like a ‘bunny nose’”

All you can do is nod

“You’ll be fine. Soobin is a gentleman, which you’re more than aware of. You’ll be in safe hands” he says, patting you on the shoulder before he walks out.

Getting ready is a blur to you. 9284692161 thoughts running through your head about how bad this could go. You’re not ugly by any means but that doesn’t mean you’re not self conscious. You’re on the curvier side, with a full bust and hips, and a pretty juicy ass. This suit is so tiny you can see every roll and ripple from your stretch marks and extra skin. Not to mention it barely covers your womanhood with how small this gusset is. ‘How the fuck were the men gonna hide their dicks in these?’ you think to yourself.

“Kill me now,” you say outloud with a heavy sigh to your empty room.

A knock at your door breaks you out of your self loathing enough to go open it.

“Hey, how are you?” your work bestie asks you as your head peaks though the tiniest hole crack you can manage. You grab her arm and pull her through.

“How do you think I'm doing? This was the BIGGEST MISTAK-” She cuts you off abruptly as she takes in the sight of you.

“Holy shit babe you look incredible”

“Hahahahha funny. You don’t need to say that. I know how ridiculous i look”

“No no I don't think you understand. You mustn’t be seeing yourself cause Soobin is gonna lose his fucking mind when he sees you”

“Yeahhhhh riiighttt..” you stretch out your words

“Yeah babe, he will. Speaking of! I came here to tell you he was asking about you the whole time he was in hair and makeup.”

“What? Why?”

“He said he was worried you were sick or something. Said you also weren’t answering his texts. He sounded pretty bummed actually. When he walked in you could see his head spinning looking for you” she says raising her brows at you suggestively.

“That's just Soobin. That's how he acts with everyone…”

“No babe.. It’s not. He said it was weird without you there. He missed you, I could tell.”

“Yeah just as a friend though! He was just worried ‘cause he couldn't reach me and his anxiety filled ass though I hated him or something.”

“You’re hopeless, you know that?” she scrunches her eyes at you, disgusted at how you wont believe that Soobin could possibly like you as much as you like him. After all, she sees the way he looks at you everyday.

“Models gather in the common room” the walkie relays

“Fuck! kill me please?” you beg holding your hand in front of your chest as you plead with your bestie.

“Nah hon.. Someones gotta see how hot you look besides me”

“Bitch”

“Love you too! Now off you go! Say hi to Binnie for me!” she blows you a kiss as you walk to the door. Opening it and flipping her off while you close it.

Whistles and cheers can be heard from the minimal staff present as the 5 of you make your way to the common area.

“Yeah yeah everyone pipe down” the director instructs

“First off! Thank you to the 5 amazing ladies who stepped in at the last minute to save our asses! You all look incredible and nothing would be possible without you.” Everyone claps for you all. And all you can think about is how you wish you would turn into an ant and be stepped on. “We are going to bring the guys in shortly and fill them in on today’s task. They however won't know it's you modeling until they enter your private rooms. We will let them in to talk to you first and break the shock. As funny as it would be to release that… I don't think it’s wise for others to know who you are when it airs.” everyone sighs and nods in agreement “so after a very short interaction, we will ask them to leave and we will refilm their “first look”. After that we will leave you all alone. No mics, no cameras besides the polaroids they can use for reference photos. In editing we will blur your faces and bodies so you will not be identifiable.” more sighs of relief were released by the five of you. ”so, any questions?” no one says anything so you rap it up. “Alright then! Let's get you ladies to your rooms and have a great shoot! FIGHTING!” everyone repeats him and goes their own ways.

Once in your room, your anxiety worsens. Your heart beats 1000 miles a minute. Sweaty palms and it’s hard to breathe. Pacing back and forth across the little floor space there was left from the giant easel in the corner. “What am I doing?! This is insane! I can’t do this” you say to yourself. When you hear the doorknob twist. Panic shooting through all the nerves in your body. You stand up straighter, fix your hair to make sure nothing is sticking up and flatten out the suit across your stomach. Turning back on because you don’t think you can face him right away.

The door shuts and you hear Soobin shyly say “annyeonghaseyo” his voice getting higher at the end.

You say it back to him quietly and slowly turn around “annyeonghaseyo”, grabbing your arm with the other reaching across the front of your body, looking at the ground. You wish you could curl up in a ball and die.

“Oh Y/N” he sounds breathless

“Hey Binnie..” you slowly look up to meet his eyes, lifting the hand from your held arm to wave, awkwardly smiling.

“You… you-” he clears his throat “you look-”

“Ridiculous I know..” you cut him off, hanging your head in your hands, slightly pushing your breasts together “Please don’t tell the guys. I can’t live with Gyu torturing me for eternity”

“No, no. NO!” panic fills his voice “I was gonna say you look incredible” he says and immediately turns bright red

“Really?” You ask shocked he would say that

“Yes! You really do. Wait, so this is why you weren’t in hair and makeup today? I was worried! I thought you were-” he walks over to you and grabs your arms, rubbing up and down them when he cuts himself off, looking down into your eyes as you look up into his shining brown ones. "I thought you were sick or something. You wouldn’t answer my texts.”

“Sorry this morning has been kinda crazy” unable to hold back the smile spreading across your face. This whole situation was just too ridiculous..

Soobin however, was fighting every instinct in his body to not kiss you. Walking into the room and seeing your plump ass with the bunny tail was enough to make him hard. He knew it was you as soon as he saw it. Afterall, he does ogle your body everyday. Wishing he would get the chance to see you in all your glorious perfection one day. If only he could break out of his annoyingly nervous self when he’s around you and tell you how perfect you are.

Seeing you turn around with the complete outfit fulfills all of his fantasies. Fuck you looked so hot standing before him. How the fuck is he gonna get through this shoot?

There’s a knock on the door, signaling them that the crew was there to film his reaction to seeing you.

“Are you both ready?” The director asks, internally applauding himself for this moment. He’s not stupid he sees the way you both look at each other.

“Yeah I guess.. you good Soob?” You ask him, he hasn’t broken eye contact with you

“Yeah sure” he finally looks at the director.

“Alright let’s do this thing! We’ll be right back Y/N” he winks at you. Soobin looks at you over his shoulder the whole time he walks out of the room. All you can do is supportively smile at him, tilting your bunny ear clad head to the side. His heart is pounding so hard right now he’s pretty sure everyone can hear it. And he’d be right. The crew all chuckled under their breath at how flustered he was.

“Hey Soobin” the director nudged his arm drawing his attention to him. “Don’t let this opportunity slip away” leaning in to whisper his last words of advice “make your move”

Soobin’s eyes widen unsure if he heard him right, “what?”

“You heard me, don’t waste it Soobin” he winks at him before clapping his hands together to get everyone ready to proceed filming.

Soobin’s “intro” goes as well as it can with how awkward he is in this situation. They wrap up the quick take, letting you know they will be back in an hour, and you are both left alone once again. Tension lays thick in the air. Who would talk first? Better yet how you were both going to make it through this. Unable to take the silence anymore, you ask “how do you want to do this?”

“Hmm?” he asks, lost in his own mind about what the director meant.

“What do you want me to do Soobin? How do you want me to pose for you?”

“OH right.. Umm just do what feels comfortable to you i guess?” rubbing the back of his neck as he walks over to grab the polaroid camera left on the table.

“Soobin… absolutely none of this is comfortable! I look like I just walked out of a teenage boys wet dream”

‘It’s gonna be my wet dream tonight’ Soobin can’t help but think to himself.

“Yeah, right… Ummm.. how about, I mean since you’re already dressed like that, you pose like a bunny girl…?” deciding to shoot his shot because this opportunity will not present itself again.

“What, Like this?” channeling your inner Bunny Girl popping your hip out hard to the side. Your head tilted the same way while pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with big doe eyes.

“Yeah, just like that! Don’t move” Soobin picks up the camera to capture you in that pose.

“Kay” you shyly say, not budging from your position as Soobin takes the picture.

You continue posing for him in whatever way you can imagine. And when you run out of ideas, Soobin’s thorough knowledge of anime and manga comes into full use, directing you in poses you would have never thought of.

However, as time passed, Soobin’s pervy side was getting the best of him, taking the photos he would never ever use, and just keep for later. Like as soon as filming was over and he was alone, left to think of you all night.

Soobin maneuvers himself in all different positions. Eventually making his way between your legs, wanting to get a photo of you looking down at him.

While sliding through your legs, his eyes land at the apex of your thighs, staring at your barely covered pussy. The white satin laying tightly over your core. So tight, he could see the shape of you through it. ‘Fuck fuck fuck this is insane. I shouldn’t be looking but FUCK WHY DOES IT LOOK SO GOOD. fuck I want her on my tongue. Just a taste…” Soobin internally fantasizes about you moving the fabric to the side, exposing your soaking wet folds, glistening in your slick and begging to be cleaned by his mouth. His jeans start to feel tighter- “FUCK NO! STOP BEING A PERV YOU LOSER!’

You seem to be off in another world though and completely unaware of his position. ‘Maybe I could… No no I can't, that's so wrong. She’d hate me if she ever found out. But… that’s IF she finds out. If.. if is good.’

Soobin picks up the camera, focusing on the white piece of shiny fabric barely covering your pussy, making sure it’s perfect before he clicks the shutter button to capture you on film. Only for him to see. He shoves the picture into his shirt pocket and pushes his way through to finally see your face.

You look down over your breasts, bending slightly at your hips, to look down at Soobin. “ kay so what now?” batting your eyelashes.

“UHH-” trembling over his words ‘FUCK WHY IS SHE LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!!! I swear ro god she's doing this on purpose’ he swallowed thickly “umm that looks good! Yes, just lean over a bit more and that perfect” horny Soobin is fully taking over. He wants YOU so badly.

For some reason you kept feeling more and more confident around him too. The way he would praise you throughout this whole ordeal was making you feel a type of way. You could feel the tingling in your stomach migrate its way throughout your whole body. Leading you to be more forward than you usually would. His eyes on you make you more confident by the second. ‘Fuck why is he looking at me like that? He looks so good’ thinking to yourself as you admire the way Soobin’s hair falls back off of his forehead. Watching the way his tongue darts out to lick his lips while he focuses the camera on you.

What catches Soobin's attention though, is the way your thighs start to rub together. Grinding together and making your hips sway slightly. ‘Fuck this is impossible’ he thinks while trying to maneuver to make his jeans not feel so tight.

“This okay Binnie?” you softly ask, squeezing your breasts together with your arms

“YeP!” He squeaks, taking the picture quickly, and moving to get out from underneath you.

You notice something fall to the ground from his pocket as he shifts. Noticing it’s a polaroid you move forward and bend down to pick it up. Curious, you turn it around to look at it while you speak up.

“Hey Bin you dropped th-” the word dies in your throat as you see the picture. The photo is solely of the apex between your thighs. Front and center is your pussy, barely covered, by the tiny amount of white satin fabric, you can even see through it a little bit (all thanks to how wet you currently were).

When Soobin sees you holding the photo, and the red flush covering your face, he knows immediately what photo it is, tapping his chest pocket to confirm his nightmare is coming true.

“Y/N I-... Le-Let me explain! It’s not what you think! It’s uhhh… i uhh- “ Seeing him panic with wide eyes and a crimson face that rivals your own, fills you with the sudden urge to toy with him. Falling to your knees, you crawl over to him, showing off the assets you know he loves most. You’ve always known Soobin was a boob man. He rarely passed the chance to size up your chest when he was presented with it. Straddling his hips, you put on your best innocent face. Big doe eyes and pouty pink lips, glossy after just licking them. “Binnie baby..” you lean forward, pushing your tits to his face as your breathily whisper into his ear “if you wanted your own pictures, all you had to do was ask” punctuating your statement by pressing a kiss to his pulse point. He stops breathing, his cock instantly hardening underneath you, while his hands shoot to your hips to hold you there. Thumbs digging in roughly.

“Y/N wait… fuck- ” he curses as your lower yourself on him “for real?”

“Mmmmhmmm” you seductively agree, biting your lower lip while you look him in the eyes.

“Anything I want? The question barely audible while his eyes lower to your lips.

You bring your face into his, feathering his lips with your own as your whisper to him “anything you want Soobin”

Soobin instantly reaches for the camera but you stop him. You push yourself into him as you reach down his thigh and into his pocket as you reach for his phone in his pocket. “Use yours instead” holding it out to him.

Soobin snatches the phone from your hand at light speed and instantly takes photos of you, just as you are right now. Photos of your chest, your face, as many as he can grab. He quickly switches to video, not wanting to miss a second of this as he simultaneously snaps pictures of you in motion.

You give into his every want and need. Moving as you think he would like, letting him guide you into the positions he wants. Even allowing him to take down your ponytail, releasing your curls along your shoulders.

Unable to take this position any longer, Soobin wraps his arm around your waist as he flips you onto the floor making you softly gasp. Your hair spreads out across the cold tile beneath you, bunny ears still standing straight up on top of your head. Soobin is about to combust looking at you spread out below him on the floor, while his legs straddle either side of you. ‘She’s so fucking cute right now. Her pink nose is adorable, especially when she's shy like this. She’s even blushing all down her neck and -” Soobin’s eyes widen as he is stopped in his thoughts. As his eyes are trailing down your body, he notices one of your breasts has vacated your corset and is perked up, looking back at him. Your pretty pink, hard nipple making him salivate, begging to be taken into his mouth. Fantasizing about getting you completely out of that bunny suit, you interrupt his thoughts.

“Soobin?” your voice is meek and quiet “Is something wrong?” you ask, starting to curl into yourself, feeling self conscious for the first time under his gaze.

“What..” he asks confused until he realizes he was eye fucking you as you watched him “NO! Nothing is wrong! It’s just your.. Your umm..” Soobin clears his throat, “your boob is out”

“OH!” you look down to see you were in fact exposed. “Oh god, sorry I didn’t even notice” being too caught up in the moment you didn’t even realize your tit was out. You reach to fix yourself when Soobin’s large hand grabs yours to stop you. He brings your hand above your head, looking into your eyes trying to gauge how you feel right now. “Soobin..” you breathe, shock and nerves creeping in. Feeling the mutual tension, Soobin makes his decision.

Soobin breaks eye contact to look at your exposed chest again. Bringing his free hand up, pulling down the top of your suit completely revealing your chest to him as you gasp in shock.

“So pretty…” looking at you in the most adoring way “prettiest tits I’ve ever seen” whispering his compliments through shallow breathing. He releases your hand, kneading a breast in each of his huge palms. “So pretty Y/N, so perfect” Pulling hushed moans from you as he leans down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your peaked bud. Pulling away as he grazes his teeth across it, causing you to hiss a quiet ‘fuck’ as the sensation does too much to you. Your melodic sounds go straight to his dick.

Soobin continues sucking on your chest, leaving purple marks in his wake. His hands roaming your exposed skin, traveling lower towards your hips. You need more. You need him to give you more. Your desire takes over, pushing your hips up to meet his, whining as you move against him.

“More” you whisper

“Hmm?” he barely heard you too caught up in his actions

“More Soobin, please” you whine

Unable to stop the smirk on his lips, he has to tease you a little bit. He wasn’t going to give up this chance to fluster you “what was that? I can’t hear you Y/N did you say something?”

You grab his face, pulling him in closer to you and whine between bated breath “BiiNn- More, touch mee- Uhh more PLEassee” Your eyes glossed over with need.

“Fuck Y/N what are you doing to me?” Finally meeting your lips, Soobin pulls you up to sit in his lap, moving the fabric to the side so he can finally touch your soaked cunt. Soobin groans into your mouth, mixing with your moans. Having his long fingers rub along your sensitive folds, circling your clit, making your brain short circuit, losing all sense of control and reason previously holding you back.

You grip his shirt by the neck, pulling him closer to you deepening your kiss. “Take it off.” punctuating your demand by biting his lower lip.

Soobin moves at light speed, pulling his shirt over his head, to reconnect your lips. Not wanting to waste any moments he can be connected to you. Migrating to your neck where he makes quick work to leave his mark. Purple splotches popping up along your collarbone and chest. Relishing in the pretty moans leaving your mouth. Kissing down your chest he reaches your suit again.

Trying to pull down your suit, he’s met with resistance. The zipper gets stuck as he fumbles with irritation.

“Fuck” he grumbles before he turns you around “as hot as you are in this suit, I really fucking hate it right now.” fingers struggling to unzip you.

You get impatient too, “here!” wrapping your arm around to pull the zipper down

“Stand up baby, take it off please” he motions for you to stand up, holding your hips as you do.

On your feet, you look down at Soobin, his eyes sparkling with desire as you shimmy out of the satin suit you were so self conscious in moments ago. While the lust is fogging over your thoughts, you freeze realizing he can see everything. Anxiety begins to crawl back into your stomach. Butterflies swarming in the pit as you see him size you up from top to bottom.

Lost in the sight of you fully on display for him, Soobin can’t help but stare and take in every inch of your body. It was everything he ever dreamed and more. Practically salivating at the thought of having you all to himself. Eyes between your thighs to your breasts, landing on your stomach. You’re holding your breath when he gently says ”so pretty. You’re beautiful y/n. So so beautiful.” you can hear the love and sincerity in his words, making the butterflies and unease fly away. Still praising your body with his gaze, Soobin moves forward, bringing himself closer to your dripping sex, trailing kisses along your thighs. “Need to taste” he says, more so to himself as he lifts his head, running his smooth tongue from your opening to your clit in one deliciously slow stroke. His tongue feels unreal, soothing the tension building inside you. Moaning as he continues to lap up your arousal. Soobin lifts your leg over his shoulder to get more access to you, his plush lips kissing your clit.

Soobin leaves no part of your core untouched. His tongue travels the length of your slit, swirling your clit and sucking it between his lips, holding you steady with a tight grip on your ass. Groping your cheek as he guides you along his tongue.

“eugh” You run your finger through his hair, gripping tightly so he can’t escape from the pleasure he’s giving you. Flattening his tongue along your folds slick with his saliva. Sucking on them until they slip out with a loud ‘POP’ as he groans from your intoxicating taste. You push your hips forward and Soobin takes the hint, swirling his tongue around your dripping entrance before he thrusts it in.

“Fuck Bin!” you gasp as pleasure buzzes throughout your body. “Ughhh- Yes keep.. Keep going” your breathing ragged and interrupted by the moans you can’t hold back.

Soobin moans against you, “yes baby- fuckkk…- come for me” he pleads between breaths. His large hands pull you in closer to him, allowing him to dive deeper into you. His nose brushes against your clit with every movement.

Pulling back for a second, you groan in disappointment, dropping your head back on your shoulders until you hear and feel the wetness of Soobin spitting on your clit. The surprise and vulgarity of the sounds echoing around the room tighten then knot in your stomach more and more while Soobin immediately returns to burying himself in your cunt. Your hips move on their own. Bouncing and grinding on Soobin’s tongue. You can feel him smile against you, as he begins to help you. Lifting you by your ass and dropping you down on his tongue so he can get even deeper. Vibrations flutter along your folds from his groans, drinking the sweet nectar flowing from you, thighs trembling signaling how close you were.

“So good… fuck princess -so hot” Soobin mewls against your clit. Distracting you while he adds two fingers along with his tongue. Reaching your spongy spot while his tongue licks your gummy walls alongside his digits. Your body is on fire, nerves overfiring with every tiny movement Soobin makes along you. The way his nose brushes your clit every time he moves his tongue or wraps his fingers to reach your g spot. The way his Grip is tightening on your ass in the most deliciously painful way, sure to leave bruises of his fingertips for tomorrow, all while pulling you closer into him.

“Fuck- UGH- I’m gonna- SooB-” your words stumble out as you try to warn him. But Soobin just nods eagerly, not stopping for even a second to breathe. With one last thrust of his fingers inside and his nose gently brushing against your clit, the tension in your body finally snaps, and your orgasm crashes over you. You shake and tremble as your arousal coats Soobin's hand and face, but he stays right there. Continuing to hold and support you while you ride out every wave of pleasure until your climax subsides.

You collapse to your knees, breathless and trembling in front of Soobin. He wipes the remnants of release from his face, unable to reach it all with just his tongue. Watching him lick your cum off of his plump bunny lips that you’ve fantasized of so often almost has cumming again.

“Soobin I-” you start before he pulls you close by the back of your neck, kissing you with a passion and intensity unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. The taste of yourself on his lips only reignites your desire for him. You wanted to taste him, feel his heavy length on your tongue and make him cum deep in your throat.

Moaning into his kiss, you waste no time in undoing his belt. Ripping it off and throwing it across the room before moving onto his pants. He can barely comprehend what's happening as you pull them down his thighs in one fluid motion.

“Woah- Woah Y/N slow dowNNnN-” he moans against your lips, while trying to push you back slightly. “Fuuuck” It not that he didn’t want this - because he does, He REALLY FUCKING wants it. BAD. But he didn’t want you to overwhelm yourself after how hard you just came.

“Baby-Fuck bun- stop for a- ahhh- a sec” he tries to convince you

“UGGHHH why?!” you say irritably, wanting nothing more and to suck his cock right then and there. Palming him through his briefs, you run your fingers over the wet spot on his briefs, feeling the precum soaking through the fabric. Knowing he wants it just as badly as you do. Rubbing your thumb over his leaking tip through the fabric makes Soobin’s resolve start to crumble.

“Fuck bunny”- i- i just don’t wan- faaawwk-’ cutting himself off with a loud moan.

“Up” you simply state

“Hmm?” he asks, confused but unable to resist your commanding tone, his pupils dilate from pleasure.

“Stand. Up.” you command simply. Taking his arms and forcing him to stand up.

You look up at him moving in closer to his still covered bulge

“I wanna taste you” not breaking eye contact as you lick the wet spot sitting atop his aching tip. His salty essence makes you moan loudly and your eyes roll to the back of your head from the delectable taste. Lost in your desire for him, you migrate lower, kissing his length.

Eliciting heavy breathing and groans from Soobin.

“fuck Y/N” he pants before being taken over by his deep, raspy moans, tangling his fingers through your hair to ground himself. Fighting hard to not instantly cum down your throat as you tease him through the soaking wet fabric.

Desperate for more of him, you remove Soobin's briefs and reveal his mouth-watering cock. A silent gasp escapes your lips as it slaps against his abs. You already knew he was big, but fuck.. seeing him fully exposed was mind-blowing. His member was thick with plump veins that would glide deliciously against your walls. And the length...it could easily hit every one of the pleasure points deep inside you. The sight of it made your mouth water with anticipation. Not to mention, his dick was actually pretty. The tip was a deep shade of pink, glistening in the wetness from your previous teasing, practically begging to be taken into your mouth.

Craving more, your tongue reaches out, gliding along the underside of his cock slowly, swirling your slippery tongue around the tip. Savoring the taste of him, you moan as you envelope him with your lips. Your moans radiate throughout his body, causing him to tighten his grip on your hair.

“Gahh-y/n fuck your mouth feels so good” Soobin moans, unable to stop his hips from moving deeper into your throat. Drool drips down your chin, gagging on him as he pushes against the back of your throat. Hollowing your cheeks you allow more of his length in, using your tongue to stimulate his tip when Soobin’s hips pull back. Gripping his thigh with one hand for balance, your free hand moves to grope his balls. Massaging and lightly squeezing them while Soobin whimpers words of praise to you. “Feels so good”, “fuck yes bunny”, “such a good girl for me”

Every word shoots to your core, making you drip with need. Pulling off his cock, still attached by a string of spit from your lips to his tip, creating a sinfully pornographic scene between the both of you. Panting and flushed, you watch Soobin’s dick twitch, as if begging for more attention. Humming in approval, your hand encloses around his length, pumping up and down while you look up at him. When Soobin’s brown irises lock on your playful ones, you kitten lick his tip teasingly while you watch him squirm to control himself.

“You’re too fucking cute Binnie” feigning innocence while biting your bottom lip, drifting closer and closer to the base of him. Smiling as you run the flat of your tongue along his taint, running all the way to his head.

Soobin’s groan was possibly the best sound you have ever heard. Greedy, you wanted to hear more. Wanted to hear how good you were making him feel. You spit on his shaft, jerking him off while returning to his balls. Licking and kissing all over before popping one into your mouth, massaging it with your tongue.

Soobin’s knees start to shake, becoming too stimulated while trying to hold himself back. He falls back and leans against the table behind him, unknowingly giving you even more access to him. Humming in satisfaction against him, you bring him closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck Y/N I’m so close” he’s a moaning mess.

“Cum for me Soob! Want your cum” you beg, pumping your fist along his shaft faster, and twisting. Sucking and twirling your tongue around his tip. “Cum binnie”

“GahHhH-” cumming on your tongue, Soobin’s grip on your hair tightens, pulling you further down his length so he can pump his cum down your throat.

You can’t help but moan around his length, swallowing every last drop while you continue to milk his cock.

Both of you are panting and out of breath. Licking your lips, you stare up at the man you’ve been in love with for months, head thrown back and adam's apple bobbing as he tries to collect himself. Effortlessly beautiful as he always is, but this time it’s different. He looks like sex. Literal sex. His hair is damp and slightly messy from running your fingers through it. His skin softly glistens with the light sheen of sweat covering his body. His muscles are taught as he leans against that table, tensed from the orgasm you gave him moments ago. Soobin turns his head to look at you, his eyes lazy but full of desire.

“Come ‘ere” he softly demands, holding out a hand to you.

Raising to your feet you walk to him taking his outreached hand. With a light tug he pulls you into his chest, enveloping you in a tight hug. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he asks into the top of your head.

Pulling back you look up at him “Yeah? You’re not so bad yourself” pulling him down by his chin, catching his lips with yours. The intensity increases quickly, both of you still craving more of one another.

Softly groaning into your lips, Soobin’s hands travel down to grab your ass, kneading your round cheeks with his large hands, pulling you closer and closer. But it’s not close enough. With your arms wrapped around his neck and hands tangled in his hair, Soobin lifts you up finally getting the closeness he craved. You let out a startled yelp from his sudden action, causing you both to laugh into the kiss. “You good?” still laughing at how cute he found you.

“Never better” you retort before capturing his lips again, resuming your heated kissing. Pulling yourself up his body and rubbing your slick folds along Soobin’s hardened length. Whining with need and want, pushing yourself a little farther everytime. His sensitive tip hooking and sliding just past your dripping opening. Both of your moans are sinfully pornographic and echo off the walls surrounding you.

“Fuck Y/N-”

“BiNNiE” you whine against his lips, moving your hips to slip him inside you again, but he holds your hips tight, not letting you move like you wish.

“What? Are you that needy bunny?” he smirks, a confidence washing over him from your efforts

“Mmhmmm” you quickly nod “please Bin”

“You really are a filthy bunny aren’t you? Just dying for me to fuck you right?” You’ve never seen or heard Soobin act like this, but fucking hell… this new side of him is so incredibly hot you can feel your essence stream out of you and along his cock. His chocolate brown eyes are almost black now and his gaze makes you want to submit to his every word.

“Just a bunny, your filthy bunny, Binnie I need you PLEASE”

“Fuck” he exhales, collecting the little restraint he has to complete this fantasy he’s always had. Letting you down he flips you over, pressing your ass against him, lightly pulling you back by the bunny ears still attached to your head to say his next words into your ear. His hot breath raising goosebumps all over your body. “Gonna let me fuck you stupid like the bunny you are? Gonna let me breed you? Fuck you full of my cum? Hmm Y/N? Is that what you want?”

He’s turned you into a complete mess underneath him. And he hasn’t even touched you yet. You're a moaning whiny mess, pressing yourself harder and harder against him, craving the fullness you want so bad.

“Yes, fuck yes Binnie! Want it, want it so bad. Give me your cum Soobin pleaseE!”

“Yeah bunny? You wanna be full of my babies?” Pushing your chest into the table, teasing you as he rubs his tip along your folds, teasingly pushing against your hole waiting for your answer.

“FUCK SOOBIN yes! Wanna be so full, wanna have your babies” It’s like he had you hypnotized. The thought of him pumping every last drop of his cum in you to have his babies had you clenching around nothing, desperate for him. “Please Binnie” you beg looking over your shoulder at him, “ Fuck your bunny, please”

With a soft moan, he confesses, “God damnit Y/N you’re gonna be the death of me” as he slowly sinks into you. Both of your Moans harmonize as he thrusts deeper, finally fulfilling both of your wants and desires. Savoring every moment of his perfectly sculpted length moving within you, stretching you in the most illustrious way.

“Pussy feels so good” he pants into your ear, fully sheathing his length inside you. Kissing along your shoulder he continues to praise you “so wet for me to baby, feels so good”, “you’re perfect, so fucking perfect”, “more than I ever dreamed” punctuating every statement with a kiss down your spine.

“Fuck Soobin please move” you plead, meeting his eyes over your shoulder again, watering with need. Soobin wraps an arm around your torso to palm one of your breasts, bringing you to his chest so he can kiss you. His other hand guides your leg up to rest on the table, opening you up more for him as he begins to drag himself along your walls before he begins to thrust back into you.

“Oh my fuck-KiNG GawwDd” you gasp into his mouth, his thick cock hitting the sweet spot inside you with knee buckling percision as you wrap your arm up around his neck to keep your balance. “So good- mm- fuck Soob so good!” Sloppily kissing him as he literally fucks you stupid. Your brain has completely stopped working, too stimulated to focus on anything but how perfect Soobin is fucking your right now. They way he moves in and out of you so smoothly, as every vein and ridge fits along you so well. Tears fall from your lashes as he brings you closer to climax.

“So good for me baby” pulling back from your lips, Soobin flips you around to face him, leaning you back against the table. Positioning himself between your legs, pulling you in by the back of your neck to meet your forehead to his, bangs pushed back slick with sweat. Locking onto your tear glistening eyes, while his free hand travels to wipe away the tear falling down your cheek, smiling as he tells you exactly what you’ve been feeling “you're made for me Y/N. We’re made for each other.” as he locks onto your lips while simultaneously sliding back into your fluttering entrance without needing to use his hands to guide him. Fully inside, your walls clench around his length, moans ripping through your throat as you come undone, his skilled fingers moving to circle your clit. Voice soft with affection, Soobin confesses his intentions, declaring “You’re mine, my bunny y/n. No one else gets to have you like this. Please?” Soobin hips don’t stop, fucking you through your climax, nodding to what he says while you moan and whine. His sentiment pushing you over the edge, snapping the tightly wound knot inside you. “Just want you. Fuck want you so bad. Please be mine” begging between thrusts. “Be all mine”

“Yours-mmm- ‘m all yours Binnie! Your bunny- jus’ yours” choking on your words as you mewl from the intense orgasm wrecking your body. Soobin’s movements become erratic, ready to cum.

“Gonna cum- fuck baby- ”

“Cum Soobin- cum for me- want it” excitement rings through your voice

“Want my cum? Please baby let me cum” he pleads in a deeper, raspy voice, trying to hold back

“Cum bin, cum in me- claim me- wanna be yours” wrapping your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, you pull Soobin in to Kiss him, capturing his moan as he paints your insides white with his semen. Soobin pulls you in as close as he can, pushing deeper into you, pressing against your spongy core.

As he releases the last drops of his seed, releasing your lips but keeping you close, his gentle voice quietly declares “you’re mine. All mine y/n”

“Mmmm” you hum in agreement and he pulls out of you, covered in both of your fluids, small moans released from how overstimulated you both are.

Feeling empty now, anxiety creeps back in, making you ask “Are you mine too?” You ask with a slight waver in your voice, uncertain of his answer.

Soobin can’t help the stupid grin plastered on his face, thinking how could he not be? “Always have been Y/N” speaking against your lips before kissing softly.

“Huh?“ eyes wide as if he had just told you the craziest thing, and didn’t just fuck your brains out.

“I’m yours Y/N” he chuckles, holding your face in his hands, nose to nose “I want to be with you”

“Soobin- I-“ you start to stutter, your brain rapid firing ‘wait he likes me?’ ‘For real for real?’ ‘Holy fuck I love him’ ‘wait is he just saying that cause he thinks he needs to?’ ‘Whatever I can take friends with benefits’ ‘his dick🥵’ ’but I actually like him’ ‘no he said it he likes you back’… all at once overwhelming you, and unable to finish your sentence.

“It’s okay, if you don’t want to be with me I get it. We can just ignore this but-“

“WHAT NO!? NO nonononono no Soobin I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you that.. thats not what is happening here. I just don’t want you to say that because you think you have to cause all of this happened and I’m really in my head right now because why in the fuck would you ever pick me over literally anyone else in the world? But I Donno if I can-“

“Wooahh woah Y/N slow down. Backtrack for a second, did you just say you’re in love with me?”

“Hmmm? Did I what now?” You panic freaking out in your head again ‘WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU FUCKING IDIOT YOU JUST SAID YOURE IN LOVE WITH HIM! FUCK ME!’

“Do you love me?”

‘I do. I mean yes of course I do but should I tell him that right now? Like what if I ruin all of this? Oh no… nooo don’t look at me like that with your stupid cute face and puppy dog eyes. I do really love him’ your heart is beating out of your chest at your decision.

“Yes I do.” You look up into his chocolate eyes and everything calms down. The warmth he radiates through them at this moment pushes you forward. “I’m in love with you, Choi Soobin” His plush bunny shaped lips part in subtle shock that you actually just told him you love him. “But you don’t have to say anything, it’s totally fine I get it if you don’t feel the same way. We can just pretend I didn’t say anything-“

Soobin cuts you off slamming his lips back to yours, not wanting you to finish that statement because it couldn’t be farther from the way he truly feels for you. He doesn’t like the flash of doubt that washes over your face while you diverted your eyes from his. When he feels you melt into him and reach for him he gently breaks from your lips.

“I’m in love with you Y/N”

“Wait-“

BANG BANG BANG

“THIS YOUR 5 MINUTE WARNING” The director shouts through the door

Panic takes over the both of you as you rush around trying to find your clothes and put yourselves back together… well somewhat anyways. Praying to god everyone would be oblivious to what happened between you two or at least act like they were. Your lipstick was smeared all over Soobin’s face and neck, purple splotches decorating the both of you. At least his could be hidden, you were struggling to get the stupid bunny suit back on.

“Here let me help” Soobin ironically does up the zipper he struggled with earlier. Running his fingers along your spine as you put your hair back up in the ponytail. Leaning in to whisper, knowing the staff could barge in any second, he tells you “I meant it. All of it.”

“Me to”

“Tonight, your place”

“Okay”

“I wanna-“

“We’re here” the door flies open as the whole filming crew comes in. Soobin steps in front of you, somewhat keeping you out of sight. You stay back on hoping they just leave you be, reaching for the robe you entered with. While tip toeing to the robe, something catches your eye on the floor. Picking it up you see it’s the Polaroid Soobin took between your legs. Laughing to yourself you pull on the robe and see a pen. You write a quick note on the back before you return to hide behind Soobin’s tall frame and slip the photo in his back pocket, leaving a little treat for later.

You pull the bunny ears off and pull up the hood on the robe in a last attempt to hide yourself. Reliving everything that happened just moments ago as you twirl the ears in your fingers.

“Y/N! Hey? You good?” The director snaps you out of your daydream.

“Hmm? Oh yea I’m good. I’m great” red flushing your cheeks, unable to hold it back

“Alright well you’re free to go. Again thank you so much for doing this!” He bows to you

“Yeah okay. I’ll ummm.. I’ll go”

The look on everyone's faces was pure confusion. Considering how you were earlier they thought you would rip into the director. But you’re oddly calm…

Before leaving you turn to Soobin and tell him to duck down, placing your bunny ears on top of his damp and messy hair. “There, right where they belong”

He whispers “tonight?” And you nod back repeating him “tonight” smiling before you turn to leave. Passing the still bowing director as you walk through the door.

Smiling to yourself the whole way back to your dressing room. Finally arriving you walk inside and close the door leaning on it before your release every giddy squeal you’ve been holding back.

“Tell me everything NOW!” You’re bestie all but screams after seeing you, scaring you half to death

“HOLY FUCK WARN A WOMAN WOULD YOU!? Fucking gave me a heart attack”

“Yea sorry whatever TELL ME EVERYTHING!”

“Where do I begin?”

“At the beginning obviously no detail to be spared! Now spill!!”

“Okay okay!” You laugh before you start reliving the past hour of your dreams.

Somewhere in another room …

“SooooOoOooOooo How was everyone’s shoot?” Beomgyu asks raising his eyebrows in the most immature childish way

“It was fine, awkward but fine” Kai says first

“Yea I mean this whole idea was ridiculous, I just hope - is okay. I hope she wasn’t too uncomfortable.” Taehyun adds in, scratching his temple in thought

“Yea I know right? They must have felt so vulnerable. They are hella courageous though, props to them.” Yeonjun proudly says.

“It would have been hilarious if it was male models though” Kai says laughing maniacally “can you imagine dudes in those tiny tiny costumes?”

They all laugh together except Soobin, who hasn’t heard a word of the conversation. Thinking about you and how you felt on his -

“Soobin you’re awfully quiet… what’s up man?” Yeonjun notices, breaking Soobin out of his thoughts.

“Hmmm? Nothing- no I’m- I’m good sorry”

“Who was your model by the way?” Beomgyu slides over to him, trying to get the information from him

“I’m not saying”

“Come ON! Let’s all just share who it was! Mine was -“ Beomgyu starts

“I already said who mine was” Taehyun reminds everyone

“I had -“ They all looked at Yeonjun confused, no idea who he was talking about “the new junior..”

“Ohhhh” realizing who she is

“- was really nice. Honestly I was probably more nervous than her” Kai fondly says

“Come on Soobin! Tell us who was in that bunny suit for you?”

Shaking his head he refuses to say your name

“Tell us” Beomgyu continues his taunt

“Tell us tell us tell us” the other 3 eventually join in as well

“OKAY FINE just shut up”

“Who was it?”

“Yeah I’m genuinely curious now” Yeonjun adds

“It was y/n” whispering your name so quietly it would barley be audible to a fly on the wall

“What? Who was it?”

“Y/N” saying your name only slightly louder, still inaudible to anyone

“Hmmm?”

“Y/N”

“OH FOR FUCK SAKES SOOBIN WHO WAS IT!?” Beomgyu yells at him frustrated.

“IT WAS Y/N! Y/N! THERE ARE YOU HAPPY NOW!?”

He yells back unable to control his temper with his junior

All eyes were the size of balloons, mouths hanging open, as if hearing the most shocking news of the century. Which, fair enough, when it came to Soobin’s gigantic crush on you, it was to them.

“What? So now you’re not gonna say anything?” Soobin snaps in irritation at them

“So how was it?” Taehyun breaks the silence first

“How do you think it was?” Soobin’s eyes squinting as he gets more irritated the more they ask about you. This needs to stop now because he can’t tell them what happened until you both talk. Tonight. At your place. Alone.

“Ouuu so it was bad?”

“No it was great, she’s a fucking goddess dressed in a bunny suit fulfilling my biggest fucking fantasy.” Sarcasm lacing his sharp words until he thinks about how perfect you looked and his voice softens “She looked.. fuck you know what I can’t talk about this.”

“It’s alright buddy we get it. Must of been brutal seeing her like that but not for the reason your really wanted” yeonjun comforts him

Little did they know he made that very fantasy real and it was more than he ever dreamed it could be

Turning to walk back to the set, Beomgyu sees something sticking out of Soobin’s back pocket. “Hey Soobin there’s something hanging-“ grabbing the photo from his back pocket, Beomgyu’s words die in his throat. The photo you so kindly left Soobin as a present.

Turning around in annoyance, Soobin sees Beomgyu holding a photo that has black writing on the back. Barely making out a ‘tonight’ and a little heart with an S next to it.

“What are you…” panic runs through Soobin’s body as he realizes that’s a photo and it’s probably the exact one he hopes it’s not, but judging by Beomgyu’s face, it’s exactly what he thinks it is “GIVE THAT TO ME NOW!” Just missing the photo as Beomgyu pulls its away from him

“You dirty perv, taking photos of your best friend like this without her knowing” Kai and Taehyun look over Beomgyu’s shoulder to look at it and Soobin dies a little more inside

“What is it? Let me see” Yeonjun walks over to see taking the photo from Beomgyu. “O-ohhh- oh um this is yours… there’s a note on the back btw” Yeonjun hands it to Soobin

“NOTE! What does it say!?”

“None of your fucking business that’s what!” Soobin snaps

“I literally just saw your picture of her pussy, tell us what it says or I tell her I saw it NOW!” Beomgyu wastes no time with his ultimatum

Soobin lets out the deepest breath and rubs his palms into his eyes in frustration. Pulling on his bangs and scrunching his face “FINE FUCK! Don’t tell her you seen this it’s literally they only thing she asked of me and I can’t belive I fucked up so quick! If she finds out I will kill you”

“Lips are sealed. Now what does it say?” Beomgyu puts on his happiest smile in Soobin’s mortification

Turning over the photo in his hand Soobin turns bright red as he reads what you’ve written

“Now you owe me one! 😉

See you tonight

❤️ -S

xo”

After wrapping for the day Soobin goes to immediately text you, wanting to see how you were and talk about tonight. “Where the fuck is my phone?” He looks around desperately, patting his pockets but coming up empty handed. “Has anyone seen my phone?” He asks the group

“No man sorry! Maybe it’s in the room?” Yeonjun suggests

‘Fuckkkkkkkkkkkk’ it hits Soobin that’s exactly where it is. Totally forgetting how all of this started. “Hmm maybe I’ll go check! Thanks Jun”

He calmly walks out the door and when he thinks it’s safe he sprints as fast as his long unathletic legs will carry him. Bursting through the door, he looks all over for the phone. Finding it face down on the floor next to the table. Flipping it over he sees ‘storage full’ indicating that it had indeed been filming everything.

Smiling like an idiot, he can’t help but think about what might have actually been captured between the both of you.

Opening his messages he finds your contact, sending your a quick message

“Can’t wait to see you later 🫶”

Three dots appear almost immediately and are then replace by your message

“I can’t wait to see you Binnie 🫶”

[married-to-google-translater]

Can I have a yandere Leona, Jamil, Jade and Floyd with a reader who notices all the red flags but chose to ignore them because they know they’re the only people that love them. Despite knowing how unhealthy they are, the reader chose to come to them because their family was abusive to them.

This is for Floyd and Jamil

Yandere Jamil Viper

Oooooh Jamil would really take advantage of this.

At first, Jamil would try his best to hide his yandere tendencies and operate in secret.

However, when Jamil got to know you, he would start to realize that this was not necessarily necessary.

When Jamil learns about your background, he knows you won't leave him easily.

Jamil would start manipulating you.

We really know how good he would be with mind games.

Jamil would start to be even sweeter towards you.

At the same time, he would isolate you from anyone who could keep the two of you apart.

Either he would threaten your friends or hypnotize them.

Whatewer way is faster.

Kidnapping really wouldn't be necessary in this situation.

He might just pressure you into marriage when he graduates.

That way, you would only be his.

Yandere Floyd Leech

Okay, the fact that you notice Floyd's unhealthy behavior patterns would mean that your vision is working.

This man would be a walking red flag.

Floyd really wouldn't even try to hide his behavior.

He would have always been impulsive.

The fact that you would just try to deal with it would be normal in his opinion.

Because sometimes it would be dealing.

Floyd's mood could change in seconds.

It would take him a moment to notice that you are not afraid of his behavior.

This would really just be fuel for Floyd.

Although Floyd would enjoy how clingy you could be, he wouldn't enjoy why you would be so clingy.

Anyone who hurts Shrimpy should suffer.

Floyd would certainly make sure of that.

No Magic Mirror or another world would stop him.

Not even your request.

After this you can be happy together.

[spookypete-94]

Choices have Consequences

Being friends with both Simon and Johnny, you try your best to convince Simon he's better than the man who raised him at the request of Johnny. All because Johnny wants a family... It's you who pays the price.

GhoapxFem!reader

CW for language and pregnancy, baby trapping if you squint??

"You don't know that." Simon grumbled refusing to look up at you. This whole conversation has been unwanted and awkward to him. Not only was he receiving the same message from Johnny, but now you too?

You had been a long time friend to both of them, meeting in the service and proving each other through thick and thin. That didn't mean he appreciated your mock sympathy.

"I do know that, Si. No better men I trust more than you and Johnny. You'll both be wonderful parents."

"Don't wan' be like him." You knew what he was referring to. He was afraid to be a parent and end up like his father.

"You ever think it's that cognitive choice that makes us better than the people who raised us? The fact we don't want to be like them? I think it does and because you remember what you had growing up, it's going to make and keep you different."

Brown coals looked up through you from the slots of his mask. A fire ignited peeking through the black war paint that you could see on his skin.

"Ya' mean that?"

"I do. Think you're a good man for the job. Both you and Johnny are going to raise some wonderful children." Reaching across lightly squeezing his hand that was next to his mug full of tea.

A heavy sigh left him as he nodded, taking in your words. A whole plan plotting in his head, taking seed and growing across his brain.

If only you could see it.

As a thank you for talking Simon into being open to having children, Johnny had invited you over for dinner a few days later.

Celebrating they pulled out the expensive whiskey, sharing it with you after a hearty dinner.Maybe that's what caused you to let your guard down. An invite to Simon and Johnny both.

It had left you in shock as Simon had you folded up against Johnny, slamming into you at a rough and hard pace. Each pant and heavy breath, him explaining that him and Johnny had decided to try the old fashioned way. Giving their seed to you for you to grow their much wanted baby. A piece of Simon and Johnny mixed with you. What better gift??

The more shocking part however was Johnny whispering in your ear over and over again of over flowing gratitude.

"Thank ya' hen, would never o' got this far wit' out ya'."

Simon pounded into you harder from the praise. You and Johnny cornering him both about this?? Fine. A baby it is then, but you're going to help too dammit.

"Givin' me and Si the greatest gift. Our little family ey'?"

9 months later, a blonde brown eyed boy was born. Mission accomplished right?

It wasn't like Simon and Johnny had planned to keep you after this right??

Wrong.

A part of their little family you were, and a part of their family you would stay. Even if you wanted it or not, this is the price you pay for telling Simon he was a loveable man. You are theirs now.

Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + seventeen

authors note: this chapter covers the aftermath of solana's attempt in the previous chapter. please heed to content warnings in order to make an informed decision regarding reading this chapter.

i'm going to handle solana's experience in the hospital as realistically as i can, but there are creative liberties taken as well. and don't come for me for the ending either. :/

cw/tw: angst, discussion and coverage of the aftermath of a suicide attempt, mental health discussions.

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 15k

Roman has a long to-do list. He always does and always will. But, this is by far one of the last things he wants to do. 

He’s going on 24 hours of no sleep, which isn’t the first time he’s done as such, but it’s the first time he’s done as such and actually felt the impact of the sleep deprivation. And truth be told, deep down he knows the exhaustion that he feels is more mental than anything.

It’s the result of the toll that finding out Solana tried to kill herself has taken on him. 

Is taking on him.

But, he can’t deal with that shit right now. He can’t deal with it because he’s got his Wise Man, Rikishi, Solo, Jimmy and Jey all sitting around him, wearing various levels of confused expressions. Which only irritates Roman more because Rikishi and Paul are the only ones who should be confused. The twins have been with him dealing with all of the shit the past 24 hours. 

Solo too.

Rikishi is the first to speak, studying Roman. The Tribal Chief is more than sure he noticed the grimace on Roman’s face as he went to roll his shoulders, remembering yet again of the wound that probably won’t heal as quickly as predicted given the fact he’s done the complete opposite of ‘taking it easy.’

“You gonna tell us what happened or—”

“There was an assassination attempt on Solana’s life last night.” Roman’s sentence is matter-of-fact and to the point, nevermind the fact that his right hand forms into a fist at just saying as such. 

Rikishi and Paul share shocked expressions, Roman’s older cousin being the one to ask, “is she—”

“Bullet hit me instead. Didn’t lodge. I’ll be fine.” Roman only adds that last part because of the horrified look on Paul’s face, already knowing his Wise Man will bombard him with questions about his injury. “Xavier Miller and his boy were behind the attempt. I’m handling them now.” 

“But sir, why would Miller want his own daughter dead?”

Roman closes his eyes and rolls his neck, working to settle his rising temper. He hates talking about this shit. It only spikes his eagerness to get his hands on Miller and rip him apart limb by limb. “Because she didn’t go along with his plan.”

Rikishi speaks up again. “Plan?”

Roman’s jaw clenches. “He wanted her to kill me.” 

The rest of the men look equally shocked, Paul gasping loudly, asking, “she’s a traitor?”

If looks could kill, Paul would be six feet under. Roman has to mentally restrain from acting out on his suddenly murderous urges. “She’s my wife.”

Rikishi, however, seemingly tosses his longtime friend a lifeline, trying to reason with his younger cousin. “Uce, that doesn’t mean she can’t be both—”

“What I’m hearing….” Solo surprises the men around the table as he sits forward. “—is that she can’t be trusted.”

Roman isn’t sure just how much of his anger and rage at the accusations being slung against Solana is showing, his Solana, but it must be enough for the twins, of all people, to try and de-escalate.

“Come on now, this is Soso we talking about.” Jimmy is the first to kick off peacemaking. He looks at his father, “pops, you was there when we first met her. She was nervous as shit. Ain’t nothing about that girl dangerous.”

Jey chimes in, handling Solo. “And you of all people should definitely know that’s not Solana. She would never hurt nobody, let alone kill nobody.”

Solo, however, simply scoffs. “Like she ain’t hurt her brother?”

“What was she supposed to do? Let him beat her?” Jimmy is the one to snap, shouting back with a suck of his teeth, “man, that bitch deserved it!”

Rikishi jumps in, defending his younger son. “I think what Solo is trying to say is that it proves she is, in fact, capable of hurting someone if she wanted to.”

“Why would she want to hurt Roman? That don’t even make no—”

“Enough!” Roman’s fist slams down on the table. “The next person to say one more negative thing about my wife is getting a bullet in their fucking skull.” There’s a blanket of silence, all of the men knowing that Roman would absolutely carry through on this threat. A promise, really. 

Roman swallows, both from anger and something else he can’t pinpoint. “Solana tried to kill herself last night. What in the fuck about that presents a danger?” He doesn’t care enough to observe the reactions of that news. Doesn’t give a fuck. “The only person she’s a danger to is herself.”

Paul is the brave soul, or perhaps just stupidly and naively asking, “is she—okay?” 

“I said tried, didn’t I?” Roman snaps, forcing the pudgy man to recoil back in his seat. Roman clenches his jaw yet again, directing his statement to the next older man. “Rikishi.” He runs a hand over his face. “Meet with the Elders. Tell them about the assassination attempt. That it was Miller. Nothing about the plan. And leave it at that.”

Rikishi removes his glasses, sitting up at the table. “Roman, the Elders should know—” 

“The Elders know what I want them to know, and I want them to know that someone tried to kill my wife, and I’m handling it. That’s it.” Incapable of dealing with any more of this shit, Roman stands up from the chair, turning his back on the rest of his family. “Wise Man, let’s go.”

The obese man also shoots up from the chair, nearly tripping over his feet as he wordlessly follows Roman out of the room. 

Left alone is just Rikishi and his sons, the patriarch asking, “she tried to kill herself?”

Jimmy and Jey wear similar frowns, recalling the horrific truth they learned about their ‘Soso’ just hours prior. Jimmy shuts his eyes, unable to push away the memory of a hysterical Naomi throwing herself into his chest at the memory of finding Solana unconscious. 

“It’s….it’s a long story,” Jey answers in a low voice, wanting to be respectful. Aware or not, Solana’s story is hers to tell and hers only. 

Truthfully, he’s slightly surprised Roman even disclosed that part of the past 24 hours. 

“Yeah, there’s a lot of the story that Roman left out,” Solo suddenly finds his voice again, sharing directly to his father and brothers. “Like the fact that Roman took that bullet for her.”

“What?” Riksihi asks, shock stamped all over his voice. 

“I was right there. I saw the whole thing. He pushed her out the way.”

Jimmy shrugs. “He protected his wife. What’s wrong with that? We all would have done the same.”

Jey nods in agreement. Rikishi looks torn. 

Solo continues, pointing out. “But, Roman ain’t like us. He’s the Tribal Chief. He needs to act like it.”

“Careful, son,” Rikishi cautions, seemingly breaking from his conflicted state. “Your Uce sits at the head of the table for a reason. His ways may be unorthodox at times, but his reign won’t be questioned. We won’t disrespect him.”

Solo scoffs. “But you’ll disrespect the other Elders by lying for him?”

Jey jumps in, chiding, “man, what’s up with you tonight?”

Solo scoffs, pointing to himself. “Me? I’m not the one whose judgment is clouded. We all know if this was one of us and the roles were reversed with our wives, Roman would want them executed. He’s not thinking straight.” Solo looks around the room, noticing there’s a brief second of silence. “Ya’ll see it too. I’m just the only one who’s willing to say it. Roman is losing focus—”

“That’s enough, Solo.” Rikishi raises his voice, firmer, that of a father. “You’re out of line, son.” 

Solo looks around the room, halfway waiting for his older brothers to jump to his defense, to agree with what they have to know is the truth. But, when that doesn’t happen, he also shoots up from the table, rocking it in the process, leaving the room without another word.

Once gone, Jimmy motions with his thumb. “Man, he is tripping.” He shakes his head, asking his father, “you want us to talk to him?”

“No.” Rikishi answers almost immediately, sighing heavily, running his hand over his face. “I’ll do it….you all just….watch Roman.” He stands up, as Jey mutters something about having the hard job. “And sons….this conversation doesn’t leave this room, understood?” Jimmy and Jey look slightly confused and taken back, Rikishi explaining, “I know you’re both closer with Roman. But, he’s just your cousin. Solo is your brother. He’s definitely tripping, but he’s still your family too, and there’s nothing more important than brotherhood, alright?”

________

Roman awakens with a heavy sigh that’s followed by his eyes closing. 

His sleep has been shit the past few days, and it’s been solely because his bed is cold and empty on the other side. Because he’s sleeping alone, something he once cherished but now can barely tolerate. He didn’t realize just how much he enjoyed Solana’s soft body pressed up against him, the satisfaction he felt waking up to her every morning.

Now, he just awakens to silence or the sound of Dulce whimpering or barking. 

Dulce’s whimpers on the side of the bed remind him of the fact that she’s still sleeping in his room. In their room. On Solana’s side.

Her empty side.

Moving the blankets off, Roman swings his big body over the side of the bed and walks over to motion for her to follow him. “Come on.”

He knows she has to empty her bladder, but he’s grateful for a reason to leave the space that reeks of Solana, a constant reminder of her absence. 

It’s….an experience, to say the least. 

Picking her up, he carries her down the steps, through the house, and out the back sliding door by the kitchen. Roman places her in the grass, letting her do her business as he goes to sit down on the edge of one of the chaise lounge.

He closes his eyes.

Love. 

Suck a weird fucking thing. Something he’s never really understood. 

Or felt. 

Not….not in this aspect at least. 

He’s always been confounded by the emotion that makes people act so outside of their character, clouds their judgment, and seizes their brain in crippling ways. He never saw the appeal in it. Never wanted it.

And then came Solana. 

If someone had told him four months ago that he’d not only be married to a woman he actually cares about let alone would end up loving, he’d probably knock them flat on their ass. Harshly criticize their stupidity at the very least. 

Falling in love with Solana was never the plan. He never wanted this for himself. He just needed to marry to create an official heir. And that was it. She would do her thing, taking care of the kid and whatnot. And he would still do him, continuing his life of commitment free sexual relations with whoever was his flavor of the week. Or day. 

And yet all of that, just the thought of it, sours his expression. 

He doesn’t want anyone other than Solana. Doesn’t desire to be intimate with anyone other than her. It’s her he wants to wake up to every morning, her he wants to make happy. He just wants her. Nobody else.

Because he loves her.

And it’s a shocking, life changing realization he finally stumbled into while sitting at her hospital bed. An epiphany he’s certain was heavily transitioned from subconscious to conscious given the events that transpired that night.

She almost died, was almost shot, and there’s not a fucking part of him would do anything differently. He’d take that bullet and any other bullet for her anytime. 

Because he loves her.

He stood between her and her piece of shit father, not thinking twice about it, only knowing that decision would forever negatively change her life. Thinking how he promised her he would never let her end up in that position. 

Because he loves her. 

And he sat at her hospital bed, holding her hand, pouring his heart out to her because the second those infamous words left Jey’s mouth, his world nearly collapsed. He couldn’t think straight as he rushed to the hospital, uncaring and uninterested in anything except being with her, holding her, catering to her. Whatever she needed. He just needs her to be okay. 

Because he loves her.

Roman’s head tilts back, the weight of all this lying on his chest. 

He can’t deny it. Can’t deny he loves her. Not to himself, at least. He just doesn’t know what the fuck to do about it.

There’s…..there’s no room for love in his life. No place for it. Love is weakness, and Roman has never and can never be weak. He’s the Tribal Chief. The Head of the Table. The leader of the Bloodline and Cosa Nostra. There is no space for weakness.

Or love. 

And yet….it’s there.

It’s there for her. 

Dulce walking over to the chaise lounge that Roman realizes is usually the one she sits on when she’s writing brings him back to the sadness that creeps in at her absence. Dulce must feel the same as she lays down, ears also down, whimpering.

Roman beckons her over, watching as she slowly walks over to his feet, ears still down as he picks her up and places her on his lap. It’s something not even a week ago he would probably do. But, that was then, and this is now. 

And now, he almost feels a sense of duty to Solana’s puppy. 

Because it’s this same puppy, he’s learned, that barked nonstop at Bayley and Naomi, running over to Solana and starting to cry, effectively alerting them that something was wrong.

Very wrong.

With an uncharacteristic level of emotion, Roman gently strokes the top of her head. “You saved her life….” For his own mental sanity, Roman chooses not to think about what the alternative could have been. What his reality would be if this small, five pound animal didn’t have such a close, protective bond to her human. “Thank you.”

Dulce whimpers in response, laying her body on his lap, staring at the empty pool chair. 

Roman sighs, eyes shutting again. 

The emotion is undeniable as he acknowledges in a soft voice. “I miss her too..”

This shit is much harder than he realized. 

________

Roman: How are you doing? 

Solana glances at her lock screen at hearing the familiar, personalized notification sound. The sound she set specifically for texts from her husband. Her smile is already set on her face but settles into something deeper as another message slides in.

Roman: Do you need me to come home?

Placing the pencil down on the nearest surface, she swaps out her task at hand for a brief break to respond to the question she anticipated would be proposed at some point in the day. 

Just not this soon, perhaps.

Solana wipes one hand on her shorts, the other unlocking her phone to open his thread. Preparing to reply, her gaze shifts over to her sweet baby boy, sleeping peacefully in his infant pillow. Low, relaxing music plays from her Alexa on the nightstand, lulling and keeping him in his slumber. Similarly, Dulce lays peacefully in her bed on Solana’s side of the bed, curled into a little ball.

The smile somehow grows deeper.

Solana: I’m okay. You don’t need to come home, really.

Solana quickly snaps a photo of the baby and includes it with her next message.

Solana: We’re good. :) 

Solana brings her finger to gently caress her son’s cheek. He has such a calm disposition about him. Even at 6 weeks. She can just see he’s taken on more of her demeanor than his dad’s. Granted, she also noticed the same thing about her oldest twin, only for her to gradually be morphing into the female version of her father.

Roman hearting the photo captures her attention once again followed by his reply, which seems to be the result of long distance mind reading.

Roman: He’s been a lot easier than the girls were. But, time will tell. 

Roman: Where are they?

She giggles, imagining his elongated sigh as he considers what could be in store for them once their son starts to get bigger and older. Can move around and get into things with his sisters. It’s more likely than not bound to happen.

Solana: In their playrooms. They’ve been surprisingly quiet too….for now. Lol

Solana knows her girls well enough to know silence with them, mostly when they’re together, isn’t usually long lived. The quieter of the two is very much like Solana, able to stay and keep to herself just fine without making much or any noise. Her sister, however, older by 6 minutes exactly, is not.

She is rambunctious and loud and loves to be moving. And when they’re together, that adventurous nature rubs off on Solana’s twin, usually resulting in them getting into something. More often than not.

Roman: I talked to them last night. Reminded them it's important they listen and help you out.

This is something she already knew, having overheard as he put them to bed while she catered to their newborn. He’s done that a lot since the birth of their son. Really taken over as much as he can with helping the girls, when it’s something he can do. And if he can’t do it, like them wanting to do art with her or bake something, usually the youngest vs the oldest, he’s on baby duty. 

Whether he realizes it or not, he truly is great at being a dad. Though something tells her, always has, that even three kids deep, he struggles with that insecurity at not being good at it.

Not being good enough.

Roman: I still think it was too early for me to come back to work and leave you alone with everything.

And there it is. What Solana already knew he was thinking but is happy to see him finally admit. Roman’s been working from home the past six weeks, since the birth of their son. And while she’s appreciated having him home, helping her out with managing their growing family, it was time for him to return back to the ‘office.’ 

She knows he worries about her, worries about her feeling overwhelmed, but she’s been good the past few years with being open with him. That hasn’t and won’t change. 

Solana: You were going to have to go back eventually, Ro. I’m okay, really. The girls really don’t cause me any issues. And he’s easy.

Solana: Outside of when he’s groping and squeezing the mess out of my breast. 😅

Breastfeeding has never been much of an issue for Solana. And, while it was definitely a bit of a challenge breastfeeding twins, there was never a pressing enough problem for her to not consider doing the same for her third child.

Granted, unlike the girls who, at most, felt around her breast while getting their fill, her son is more handsy. His little palms often slapping, squeezing and even scratching with his nails she makes sure to try to keep cut low. 

She chuckles, thinking about how this could very much be another small sign she’s in store for yet another energetic child. It lines up though. Even when he’s sleepy, little scowl on his face, she sees Roman. In all of the children, really. But with him, the way his little lips dip and light eyebrows cave into a look of unmistakable disapproval, usually when she takes too long to pick him up or feed him, that’s all Roman.

Roman: Smart kid. 

She giggles, sending out a reply that’s a result of years of growing more comfortable with teetering the lines of risque topics and innuendos.

Solana: Your kid, clearly. 😅

Roman: Damn straight.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she keeps the conversation going with another risky text. 

Solana: Just two more weeks until I’m….cleared. 

Over the years, and as she’s continued to heal, Solana has found herself with a sexual appetite that’s nowhere near her husband’s nor most women her age, but it’s there. Coming and going. Ebbing and flowing. And lately, it’s been on the flowing side.

Roman: We should wait longer. 

Roman: I’m not taking any risks.

She sighs at his reply that’s not entirely unsurprising. He absolutely would want to go past the recommended 8 weeks that she was told by her doctor that they would need to wait to resume intimacy. An extended period of time than the usual 6 weeks due to the second degree tear she sustained while birthing her third child. A thing that can happen during childbirth and wasn’t anything too serious, but something she knows her husband sees as just that.

Thus him wanting to not ‘take any risks.’ 

Solana: I understand.

Understanding is different from agreeing, but she won’t push him on it. 

Solana: Besides, don’t want to risk another baby.

Solana: Just yet anyway….

Having this conversation over text probably isn’t the way to go, but she has no doubt he’ll talk with her about it more in person when he comes home tonight, after all three kids are down for bed.

That doesn’t mean they can’t start it now, at least, though.

Roman: Seriously? You really want another baby?

Roman: He isn’t even a year yet.

Roman: You forget I’m 10 years older than you. I’m getting too old for all these kids, Solana.

It’s true they just welcomed their baby boy not even two months ago. And Roman is aging. He’s older, the gray in his beard spreading by the day, but he’s still just as active and fit into his forties as he was when they met years prior. Thus, he’s exaggerating. 

Solana: No, you’re not.

Solana: And that wasn’t a no…..

His reply comes in a bit quicker than she was anticipating. 

Roman: It wasn’t. 

She smiles. Solana has learned her husband well over the years. Knows him well enough to know that if there wasn’t a part of him also interested in maybe having another child, he would be clear about his standpoint. He would express his disagreement. 

So his comment would suggest he’s not team no. That he’s open, and his following texts confirm as such.

Roman: But, this would be it. Four is more than enough.

She smiles, knowing that this definitely will still be discussed in person tonight but happy that he’s unwilling to deny himself. Solana’s love for him has only deepened since seeing him step into the role of fatherhood. 

She just wishes she could get him to see how good he is at this. The girls wouldn’t adore him as much as they do if he was bad at it, per se.

But, he’s not.

If only he could see it. 

Solana: Unless we get another set of twins….😅

Roman: Jesus Christ 

Solana giggles, imagining the look he must have on his face. Probably similar to when they found out about the girls. She wasn’t entirely surprised given how strongly twins run on his side of the family.

But, he most certainly was.

A quiet knock pulls her from the conversation as she lays her eyes on the twins who are waiting by the door with hesitant expressions. She waves them over, placing her finger over her mouth to remind them to be quiet to avoid waking up the still sleeping baby.

They tip toe over to her, moving to her side of the bed, leaning over and looking at him. The oldest is the one to ask, whispering, “why does he sleep so much, mama?”

Solana chuckles. “That’s what babies do. They need a lot of sleep to grow big and strong.”

The quieter of the two of them deviates from her usual silence to predict, “he’s gonna be big and strong like papa.”

The oldest, however, doesn’t hesitate to reiterate. “I’m still gonna be the tribal chief though.”

Solana has such a torn reaction she does well at hiding. As much as she loves how much her technically first born admires Roman and wants to be just like him, she also has no idea just what it is that Roman really does. The true weight that comes with wearing the Ula Fala. 

Or the fact that by his family’s laws and traditions, their son is the true heir to the Bloodline. Granted, she also suspects it’s those same laws and traditions Roman will fight tooth and nail to change should their daughter, even after knowing the truth about the Bloodline, still want to pursue taking his place when the time comes for him to step down.

Roman would do anything to give her just as much a chance to the keys to the kingdom as her brother.

But, that’s so far down the line, and Solana doesn’t like thinking about it too much. She just wants to enjoy her children as they are now, innocent and oblivious.

Ms. Quiet stays on her talking streak, asking quietly, “can we still go to aunt Bayley’s house today?”

Solana nods. She briefly forgot about that, but it’s still very much doable. “Of course.” 

The girls gasp and look at each other, Solana already knowing another request is about to follow. Roman’s little twin ends up being the one to ask, “mama, can we go see papa at his office before?”

She shouldn’t be surprised. One of their favorite things to do is stop by and see Roman while he’s at work. Something she hasn’t done in some time, not since the birth of her son and even then, it had been a few months.

Solana starts to text and ask him if he’s busy, but one look at the happiness on the girls’ faces at being able to see their dad, and she knows she doesn’t need to.

She knows there’s no way on God’s green earth that he would turn them away, even if he stopped or canceled a meeting just to interact with them.

That’s just the kind of father he is.

His kids come first. 

With excitement bubbling in her stomach at seeing her husband, Solana takes a glance at her son, smile growing as he stirs, clearly just as ready to see daddy. 

She then looks back at her just excited girls, sharing, “time to go see papa.”

“Time to get up.”

Solana has to blink a couple of times to reorient herself, almost entirely due to the shocking nature of her dream. A dream she’s now had every night since being admitted to the hospital, glimpses, and what feels like peeks, into the future.

Her future.

But, at the same time, it’s a distant thing that seems unattainable and unrealistic given where she is now. On a legally mandated psychiatric hold after attempting to die by suicide.

“You up, sweetie?”

Solana nods and sits up in the bed, accepting the water and pills in the small medicine bowl. She doesn’t hesitate to swallow all three, offering a small smile to the nurse who’s been assigned to her, making sure she takes her medication as prescribed.

The nurse, Carol, she thinks, reminds, “breakfast starts in twenty.”

Solana nods, pushing back some of her hair, waiting for the older woman to leave before she lays back down on the bed. 

She shuts her eyes. 

The past few days have been…..an experience. An emotional ride unlike any she’s been on in years. The last time she can recall struggling and feeling as heavy as she was was when she woke up from her coma and had it confirmed that her mother was dead. Something she knew but held onto the invisible string of hope that Nina somehow survived. 

Even though Solana still recalls the moment she heard and saw her mother take her last breath. 

It’s a weight that’s lessened tremendously over the past couple of days, since she woke up yet a second time, less irrational, not as hysterical. Part of her reaction was most definitely due to still feeling suicidal, still believing that being dead would be better for everyone. But her reaction was exacerbated by the fact that two male nurses moved to restrain her as she tried to move from the hospital bed. Having male hands on her like that was triggering and made her emotions that much more difficult to manage in an already tense situation.

But the second time she awoke, Solana saw nothing but women. Truth be told, she’s only had women on her care team since being admitted. It’s made such a big difference. 

All of it has.

Being in this space, so separated from the outside world. It’s been both difficult and welcomed. A nice escape from a recently draining reality but also a heavy separation that she’s brought up a couple times now in her individual therapy sessions with her therapist, Gail.

That is the difficulty in being separated from Roman. It’s a dichotomy. As much as she wants to see and talk to him, she wants to hide and avoid him. She wants to explain yet also never have to discuss it again. An avoidance behavior that is typical for survivors of suicide attempts, another thing she’s learned in therapy thus far. 

But more than anything, Solana just wants to talk to him. She remembers from when she was admitted as a teen following her first attempt that communication is typically cut off from the outside. She just didn’t realize it would be the same protocol as an adult. 

Something intended to avoid patients from being re-triggered. She gets that, but it doesn't make her miss him any less. 

This is the first time they’ve been separated from one another since before the wedding, and it’s not a fun experience. 

But yet….

It’s not a horrible experience either.

No one wants to be in the hospital. And no one definitely wants to be in the hospital on a legal hold because they’ve been deemed a danger to themselves and thus needs 24/7 supervision.

That part sucks, but what hasn’t sucked for Solana is being able to be as honest and vulnerable as she needs to be. To cry and fully acknowledge the extent of her feelings, to be as raw as she’s been in her therapy sessions thus far with Gail. The woman whose kind smile, non-judgemental and self-disclosure of also being violated has created such a safe space for her. 

Solana knew, knows, that she can talk to Roman. That he’s made it clear there’s nothing she can’t discuss with him. But, there’s something about speaking to another woman, someone who’s also sadly been through something similar that’s….that’s healing, almost. 

Knowing Carol will be back for another reminder about breakfast, Solana pulls from her thoughts and leaves her bed to start her day.

Everything in the hospital is planned, time cut out for everything from meds, breakfast, group therapy, individual therapy and more. There’s only so much time in the day that’s reserved as ‘free time,’ though being hospitalized doesn’t present a ton of options for one to choose from during said ‘free time.’

However, Solana has always been able to occupy herself and keep herself busy, and this is no different. 

Later that day, she’s in one of the common areas, utilizing her free time with one of her favorite coping mechanisms. One she’s recently revisited and brought back to lean on. Pencil in hand, Solana uses the sketchbook she was given by Gail. No particular drawing in mind, it’s not missed on her how the bare bones outline of the face she’s drawing has very similar features to that of her husband.

“Hey.”

Solana lifts her head from the page, landing on two women who she’s seen in passing and up close in her group therapy. Both are brunette with similar heights yet different builds. The shorter one looks like she keeps herself in the gym, slender muscles visible even with the hospital provided clothing they all wear. The other is a few inches taller and curvier, her breast stretched against the material. The shorter one is the one who spoke. One looks amenable, the other does not. The one who spoke is, unfortunately, not the one with the friendly expression.

Solana swallows, gaze somewhat traveling as she sees one of the orderlies already watching the interaction. Closely. He’s a big man whose size looks disproportionate to the job he holds here, and she’s noticed him watching her a couple of times. Yet, it’s never been a predatory gaze. Almost…..protective.

“Solana, right?” She nods as the two women plop on the other sofa adjacent to the one Solana sits on. “I’m AJ, and this is Candice.” She gestures to the other woman with her thumb, the brunette waving and smiling almost giddily. Before Solana can say anything else, AJ is leaned over, asking in a low voice. “You’re Roman’s wife, right?”

Solana tenses. For some reason, that rubs her the wrong way, sends an unfamiliar chill up her spine. Something in her tells her to lie, but it’s no use in denying the obvious. “Yes.”

AJ snorts and sits back, arm lazily lounged up on the top of the sofa. “Well, I was gonna ask you how’d you end up here, but I guess that’s an obvious answer.” AJ laughs darkly, making her comment to Candice but directing it towards Solana. “I’d try to off myself too if I had to be married to that son of a bitch.”

Clearly, Solana has not been in a good place recently, hence her current situation. Her emotions have been all over the place. That’s why she chalks up her next actions to the fact that she’s still coming down from her relapse. 

Closing up the sketchpad, Solana sits up and doesn't stutter as she states clearly and concisely to AJ, “you have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, so why don’t you just shut up and leave me alone?” 

Candice's shock matches that of Solana’s, but the former doesn’t back down. Doesn’t suddenly regret her statement. Maybe it’s adrenaline. Maybe it’s the fact that Solana feels the anger stirring inside her at even the insinuation that Roman could ever be the cause of her trying to end her life.

When he’s the one that saved it. 

AJ, however, doesn’t look shocked. She looks pissed off.

And then she’s smiling. 

“Oh, sweetie, you have no idea who you’re messing with.” AJ starts to stand up, Candice following suit though she looks more confused and dumbfounded than anything. Like she’s there but not here. “Your psychopath husband isn’t here to save you—”

“You lay one hand on her, and I’ll snap your fucking neck like a twig.”

Three sets of eyes land on the figure who’s way too big for them to have not heard his footsteps, but that’s exactly what’s happened. The orderly who Solana has noticed watching her since her admission is standing almost protectively beside where she still sits on the sofa. His gaze and voice are hard as steel, focused on AJ and Candice. “I suggest you leave. Now. And stay the hell away from her.”

Solana looks between this man who, for some reason, is defending her and AJ, who still looks more amused than anything. She scoffs. “Of course.” Frowning, Solana is still stuck on the fact that this orderly who’s working in a psychiatric wing for women who’ve tried to kill themselves just threatened to kill another woman when AJ simply turns to walk away, Candice hot on her heel.

And as soon as they're out of the vicinity, the man steps back, as if wanting to grant Solana space. He then exclaims, further deepening her shock, “you’ll be safe here, Mrs. Reigns. You have my word.” 

Mrs. Reigns…..

Solana is suddenly taken back to her birthday trip, the way she was addressed by the pilots, the chef, and anyone else that Roman hired to assist them on their vacation. And that’s when it hits her.

“Bloodline…..” It makes so much sense. Why he’s always seemed to be around when she’s not in her room, the way he’s watched her almost nonstop since she arrived, the way he intervened just now. “You’re Bloodline.”

“Dave.” He offers a small, respectful smile that’s all the answer she needs. “But everyone calls me by my last name, Bautista.”

________

“Hey.”

It’s interesting how a simple word can bring on such a reaction.

Just yesterday, the same word was said to her and followed up with a not terrible but strange interaction.

She can only pray this time around is different. 

Solana takes a second to pause and shut her eyes before she looks up from her inner arm where she works on the assignment given in her first group therapy session.

Her eyes land on three women, all familiar faces because they’re all in her group. However, she’s never directly spoken to them prior to now.

Solana swallows and offers a small smile. “Hi….” 

Solana studies all of them, different in skintones, builds, hair colors and even facial expressions. The one who spoke first pushes her raven hair over shoulder and clears her throat, asking, “is it—is it true that your husband had the orderlies and security replaced with Bloodline members?”

The question takes her back, Solana unsure of how to respond, not because she doesn’t know the answer. She does. Baustista indirectly confirming that he was sent by her husband to watch over her has made Solana realize that it’s not just him who she catches watching her whenever she’s not in her room. It’s other men as well. Big, strong, much too in shape for a job like this.

The only logical thing that makes sense to her is that Roman is, once again, looking out for her. As he always does. 

“That’s pretty fucking cool. If so.” Another one comments, her brunette pulled to the side of her neck as she sits down on the sofa opposite Solana. “It was even better seeing AJ put in her place.”

Solana swallows, quite unsure just how to respond to that. “I—I don’t want to cause any problems.”

The first woman scoffs, also sitting down next to the other lady. “You might not, but AJ does. I honestly don’t know why they don’t put her in the other wing with Victoria.”

“The other wing?”

The third woman breaks her silence, explaining, her voice quiet and typical for her equally unassuming demeanor. “There’s two psychiatric wings here. The one we’re in and another for more….severe cases.”

“I.e. the really crazy bitches.”

“Melina!” The woman with brunette hair shakes her head, smiling a little as she formally introduces everyone. “I’m Mickey. This is Melina, and that’s Cameron, but we call her Cam.”

For some reasons, the names fit all of them, Solana moving to the side as Cam gestures to the space next to her and takes an almost apprehensive seat. 

“Solana—”

“Oh, everyone knows who you are, girl.” Mickey snickers, leaning back into the sofa and crossing her legs over one another. “You might just be my new favorite person.”

Solana frowns, completely lost at this seemingly random title. “I don’t—-I don’t understand.”

“AJ thinks she runs shit around here. Her and that dumbass friend of hers, Candice Michelle.” Melina explains, shaking her head. “AJ definitely should be in the other ward with Victoria. She’s the psychiatrist that runs it. Doesn’t put up with shit. Almost polar opposite of Dr. Stratus.”

Solana doesn’t know much beyond what’s being said, but something tells her she’s most definitely in the better of two places. Even if just getting to have Dr. Stratus manages her meds. She really likes her. 

However, this conversation brings up a very valid question that Solana doesn’t exactly know how to word very well but finds it in her to ask. “So you all….you’ve been here before?” 

It’s obvious, given the fact that they’re all so familiar with each other and dynamics. Same with this AJ and Candice person, but Solana doesn’t want to assume.

There’s a silence that falls over the women, and Solana instantly feels bad, feels silly for not recognizing how invasive that question is. However, before she can apologize, Cam is the one to speak up.

Shrugging, her smile is tight and undeniably sad as she says so simply, “demons are hard to kill.”

And just like that, Solana has never related to something more.

Feeling overcome with an almost duty to share, her eyes drop to her arms, the intricate outlines of butterflies camouflaging the scars that will never fully go away. “I get that……I really do.”

Looking up, Solana feels the set of understanding gazes on her, instantly knowing without any of them needing to share specifics that they just get it. They understand the specific and tragic ways one can end up in a place like this, oftentimes due to demons beyond their slaughtering capabilities. 

Mickey clears her throat, gesturing to Solana’s arm. “You’re really good.”

She glances down at her still unfinished art, a small smile falling on her face. “Thank you.” An idea crosses her mind as she notices each of them attempted to follow through on the assignment as well but clearly struggled. “I can—I can help, if you want?” 

Cam gasps, obviously excited by the idea of it. “Really?”

Solana’s smile grows as she explains, “I—I love art.”

Mickey squeals almost and pulls out a black sharpie from her bra, shrugging with a playful smile. 

“We were kinda hoping you said that.”

________

“You’re quiet today.” Gail’s assessment continues as she asks in a gentle voice, “are you nervous?”

Nervous is an understatement. Solana fidgets on the sofa, running her hands down her sweats. “I—I haven’t seen or spoken to him since….you know.”

Gail presses her lips together, nodding. “You don’t know what to expect.”

Solana nods, eyes starting to water. “I don’t—I don’t want him to be upset with me.” 

It’s officially been a week since Solana has been admitted into the psychiatric ward. An interesting experience, to say the least. She’s made enemies, made ‘friends’, worked through and started to process with a professional so much of her trauma, and more. And while her longing for seeing and speaking to her husband has only continued to grow by the day. The day finally being here where she’s allowed a visitor, where he will come to see her this evening feels almost….it feels too soon.

She’s just so nervous, unsure of what that reunion is going to look like. 

Gail sees the thoughts brewing in her client’s head as she asks in an attempt to redirect, “are you responsible for his emotions?”

“No, but….but I—” When she struggles to get out a coherent response, Gail presents a thought provoking question.

“Solana, based upon what you know about Roman, what’s more likely? That he’ll be upset with you or that he’ll just be happy that you’re alive?”

It’s such a good question, one that has the emotion bubbling in the back of her throat, emotion she shows as silent tears begin to fall. “I—I want him to be happy, but…..”

“You’re still struggling with feeling like a burden to him….” It’s an assessment by her therapist that is wholly correct, but one Solana can’t verbally comment on, only offering her agreement with a silent head nod. “Do you remember the exercise we did a couple of sessions ago about faulty thinking? About the ways your trauma influences your thinking.” 

Solana reflects back on that session, so heavy yet so helpful. It provided her such insight on just how deeply her experiences have painted her view of so much. Of everything, really. Including how she so lowly views herself sometimes. 

“I want you to think about that and compare it to the thoughts that you’re having now……where are they coming from?”

Solana closes her eyes and blows out a breath. “My…my fear.”

“And if your fear was a living, breathing entity sitting opposite beside you right now, how would you combat it? Think about the cognitive challenging we discussed.”

Keeping her eyes shut, Solana travels back to that session, utilizing the skills and tips and knowledge she’s learned since her admission.

She takes an ‘efficient breath’, as Gail calls them. “I’d tell my fear that….that you don’t get to control me anymore.”

Gail smiles softly, gently encouraging the young woman to continue. “What else?”

Silent tears continue to fall, but Solana’s voice remains firm and unwavering. “And that….that Roman cares about me and just wants me to be okay and….and get better.”

Gail hasn’t felt so proud and pleased with a client’s response to the empty chair exercise in quite a while. “Exactly.” She sits back in her own chair, jotting down some notes. “Can I ask what you’re feeling right now?”

Solana finally opens her eyes and wipes at her eyes, scoffing quietly. “A…a little better, actually.” She motions to her chest. “It doesn’t….it doesn’t feel as heavy.”

“Good.” Gail makes note of this and starts to ask a follow up processing question when Solana’s soft voice beats her to it.

“Can…..can I talk about something with you?”

Gail’s grin is warm and welcoming as she offers genuine assurance. “Solana, there’s nothing we can’t discuss here.” She’s pleased to see Solana’s smile grow at this reassurance. “What would you like to talk about?”

Feeling on the spot all of a sudden, despite being the one who initiated the conversation, Solana does her best to manage and push through her anxiety. “I—I’ve been….I’ve been having dreams since I got here.”

Gail is mindful of her expression as she asks in a soft voice, “dreams or…..”

Sensing what she’s asking, Solana quickly shakes her head. “No. Not those. Not nightmares. They….they really are dreams. Good dreams, I—I think.”

Studying her, Gail assesses. “You seem unsure.” 

Deciding to bite the bullet, Solana shares in a low voice, “they’re dreams of me in the future…..as….as a mother.”

Gail nods. “I see.” She makes note of one of Solana’s nonverbals. “You’re smiling right now.”

Sniffling, Solana continues to share and exhibit so much vulnerability, most of which is solely because of how safe and non-judged Gail has made her feel. “In the dreams, we have three kids. Twin girls and a baby boy.” She wipes at her nose and swallows deeply. “I—I want to be a mom someday, but I don’t….I don’t want to be a bad mom.”

If these dreams have shown her anything, it’s that she wants more than anything to be a positive influence in her future child, or children's, lives. She doesn’t want to cause them even a fraction of the parental trauma she’s experienced. 

And deep down, Solana knows that she’s absolutely nothing like her father.

But, she knows she’s very much been deeply impacted by her fathers’ abuse. By all of her trauma. And the last thing she wants is for any of that to negatively influence her children. 

“Solana, what makes you think you could ever be a bad mother?” She shrugs, shutting down a bit. Gail sighs lowly, offering words of affirmation and support. “You are not a bad person. You are not a broken person. Not a damaged person. Just a person who’s been dealt some not so  great cards, but you’re here, working on these things. Working on becoming a healthier version of yourself.” Gail chuckles, pointing out, “that doesn’t sound like a bad future mother to me.”

Really sitting on the words of encouragement and doing her best to not let the self-doubt creep in, Solana asks in a voice barely above a whisper, “do you….do you really think I could be a good mother?”

Gail’s response is almost immediate, not a thought to be had as she answers honestly, “Solana, I think you could be a damn good mother.” 

Solana laughs, emotion seeping in as she nods, utterly grateful for such kind words. “Thank….thank you. That….that means a lot to me.”

“Of course.” Gail would like to process this more, maybe get into some additional trauma work, but there’s another important thing on her agenda for this session. “Solana, as you know, your hold will be up exactly one week from now, meaning you’ll be officially discharged and allowed to return home.”

Solana eyes lighten up at that, an expected reaction as Gail gently slides into a deeper conversation pertaining to her release. “But, there’s something I would like to speak to you about.”

________

Roman doesn’t think twice as he walks into the room that’s suspiciously quiet to be located in a hospital, decorated just as one would expect a therapist’s office to look. He only briefly takes a look around before plopping his big body down on the sofa. 

He didn’t even pay any attention to the fact that Gail was attempting to extend an olive branch, offering a handshake that he so rudely ignored, clearly ready to get this over with.

She keeps her togetherness, offering a verbal introduction. “Thank you for com—”

“This has to do with Solana, right?”

Gail makes a face, pressing her lips together as she chuckles quietly. “Of course.”

“Then get to it.” Roman is quick with the demands, asking, “how is she doing?”

Gail offers a tight smile. “I’m Gail Kim, the therapist on staff who’s been handling Solana’s individual therapy sessions.”

“Did I ask you who you were?” His stare is cold and uninterested. “I asked you how she’s doing.”

Sighing, Gail refers to the tablet on her lap, opening up the notes she’s happy that she prepared ahead of time. This is going exactly as she predicted it would. “Your wife is no longer endorsing suicidal ideation which means she’s denying any thoughts and plans to take her life, which is significant progress considering it’s only been a week—”

There’s a hint of hopefulness in both his expression and voice as he asks, “so, she’s ready to come home?”

Gail hesitates. “Not exactly.”

The previous hopefulness melts into something cold and harsh. Roman is visibly and understandably irritated. “You just said she’s not suicidal anymore.”

“Yes, but it’s not that simple. Solana is….she’s an interesting case. Her trauma history is significant. Though she seems to be on the way to stabilization, there’s still a lot of work that needs to be done. She needs continued professional help.”

“Isn’t that why she’s here with you?” His tone is cruel and condescending. “If you’re too fucking incompetent to help her, let me take her home, so I can.”

Gail bites the inside of her cheek. If this was anyone else, she would set them straight on the importance of mutual respect. But, this isn’t just anyone. This is Roman Reigns, and she’s well aware of the fact that one wrong statement or sign of disrespect could very well end her life, so she does her best to remain calm and professional. And she tries an alternative approach. 

“You know, one of the exercises she did in an individual session asks about what safe spaces she has, sources of support and whatnot. And you know what she put down for almost every answer?” Gail gives a small, closed mouth smile. “You.” Well trained in reading nonverbals, she picks up on the brief giveaway sign of emotion that flashes in Roman’s eyes at this. “She put down that you are her number one reason for wanting to live.” 

There’s a good minute of silence before Roman asks in an uncharacteristically low voice. “So why did she do it?”

Gail's smile shifts into a solemn frown. “I’ll leave that discussion to the two of you. She’s expressed wanting to talk with you about that directly.”

“I’m asking you.”

Gail leans back in her chair and goes a different route. “It’s okay to be upset with her. To be angry at her. To be angry at and blame yourself.” Gail catches just a glimpse of surprise in his eyes at the last part. “To actually feel your feelings.”

Roman, however, is uninterested in any of this. Offended even. “Why the hell would I be angry at her?”

“Why wouldn’t you be? She tried to leave you. That’s essentially what suicide is. Escapism. It provides the patient with the peace they’re looking for but leaves the loved ones left behind with a world of questions and emotions.” She explains, mindful of her tone and voice. “Two truths can exist in the same universe. You can be happy she wasn’t successful and still angry at her for trying in the first place.”

Roman is quiet for a good two minutes, Gail wondering if she should transition to another topic when he breaks said silence in that same low voice. 

“I don’t understand why she didn’t call me. I told her to tell me if…..if those thoughts ever returned.”

“But she didn’t…..” Gail’s voice softens as she adds, almost empathetically. “I think you’ll find talking with her will give you some of the answers you’re looking for. But, they truly should come from her.”

Roman won’t push. He wants to, but won’t. If this is something Solana wants to discuss with him herself, he’ll respect that. So long as it’s not triggering to her, which it seems, surprisingly, it’s not. 

Gail clears her throat and transitions to the next section. “Dr. Stratus started her on a medication regimen of Sertraline, 50mg and Wellbutrin, 100mg, once a day in the morning as well as Hydroxyzine, PRN, which means as needed. The Sertraline and Wellbutrin are antidepressants, and Hydroxyzine can be taken when she starts to feel overwhelmed or triggered. So far, she’s responding well, though it typically takes 4 to 6 weeks for patients to truly notice the full benefits.” 

Roman nods, as Gina or whatever her name is, continues to explain what’s otherwise obvious. 

“We’ve been administering her medication and given how she attempted to take her life, Dr. Stratus and I strongly advise that you or someone else take over that administration upon her discharge—”

“Do you honestly think I’m stupid enough to allow her to have unmonitored access to pills again?” Roman doesn’t even try, not that he was before, to hide his frustration and irritation. She’s acting like he’s stupid. His degrees may be in business, but one doesn’t need to have a degree in behavioral health to know thatyou don’t give a formerly suicidal person free access to the same method they used to take their life. 

Gail, however, decides to not feed into it. “You know, anger is sometimes just anger. Just people mad as hell. But sometimes….sometimes it’s what we call a blanket emotion, meaning there are other feelings hiding beneath it, being presented as anger.”

Roma sits forward. “Just what the hell are you trying to insinuate?”

“Nothing at all, Mr. Reigns.” A small smile falls on her face, and that only pisses him off even more. Is this bitch trying to patronize him or something? “But, you should know that we offer support for spouses and loved ones like yourself who are supporting—”

“The only thing I need for you to do is to help my wife, so I can get her the hell out of this place and home where she belongs.”

Gail takes a deep breath. 

It was worth a try. 

“I want to show you something.” She stands up from her chair, moving to her desk as she pulls out a key to unlock the drawer. “Solana signed a full release authorizing us to share all details regarding her care with you. But, there are some things she’s explicitly expressed you not being okay with knowing and seeing. This is not one of them. And I think you would find it interesting….”

If not for the fact that the therapist already made it clear that safety concerns and suicidality are exceptions to confidentiality, Roman would be concerned, wondering just what exactly Solana doesn’t want him to know.

But something tells him she’s perhaps opened up in therapy about specifics regarding her trauma more than she has with him, and if that’s the case, his only hope is that this woman knows what she’s doing and doesn’t trigger Solana further.

She walks back over, handing him a set of sheets. Roman takes them, immediately noticing the handwriting. 

Solana’s handwriting. 

He gets to reading the bolded question that each has answers of varying length.

Who is your safe person? What makes this person safe?

My husband. He’s the first man in my life to not hurt me. The first man I’ve ever trusted.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you trust this person with 1 being none and 10 being absolute trust?

 10

How does this person make you feel safe?

He’s patient with me and listens to me and makes me feel beautiful.

How does this person serve as a member of your support system?

He listens to me and always checks on me. 

How long have you experienced thoughts/urges/practices of self-harming behavior including suicidal ideation and/or attempts?

The first time I felt like I didn't want to be alive anymore was when I was ten. I woke up from my coma and realized my mother was dead. I just wanted to be with her. But it’s my brother constantly telling me I should kill myself after my mom’s murder that made me seriously think about doing it. 

He would tell me that it should have been me who died, and I should just kill myself because no one wanted me.

And I started to believe him. 

It’s been on and off since then.

Has there been a point in time where you have not had these thoughts/urges?

Yes. For the past four months. 

If you answered yes to the previous question, what caused or contributed to the cessation of these thoughts/urges?

I met my husband. I had real friends for the first time. I found myself having a real family for the first time in a long time. 

I was happy.

Prior to this gap, when was the last time you experienced any of these thoughts? What triggered them?

The day of my wedding. This was before I got to know my husband. I was scared he was going to beat me like my dad and brother.

What happened to re-trigger you? If uncomfortable sharing, list the emotions you felt during this episode. 

Sadness. Anger. Confusion.

Do you remember what thoughts you were experiencing before the suicidal and self-harming ideation returned? What were they?

I couldn’t stop thinking about my rape and my mother’s murder. It was like I was reliving them over and over again, and I couldn’t get the memories and flashbacks to stop. It felt like all my progress was reversed, and I’d have to start over, and I didn’t want to put my husband and family through that, as they’re the reason I even started to heal.

I just didn’t want to be in pain anymore, and I thought everyone would be happier if I was dead. I didn’t want to be a burden to my husband.

Looking back and reflecting on your thoughts, have they changed? And if so, how?

I don’t want to die. I still don’t feel as good as I was feeling before I found out the truth, but I’m not thinking or wanting to kill myself anymore. I still have a lot of things I want to do. I’m not ready to be done here. Just want to get better.

 Do you wish you would have done something different? What could you have done differently?

Yes.

Called my husband. 

Can you identify at least one reason your life is worth living?

Roman 

Roman has oscillated through so many different emotions reading through this worksheet from beginning to end. Anger seems like the dominant emotion, his jaw clenching as he learns how close to the paternal tree Solana’s bitch brother remained..

He’s not much better than Xavier. 

If not worse. 

And Roman is determined to find even more, additional ways to make that fucker suffer the way he made Solana suffer for so many years.

He’s also livid and something else unknown that on a day that should have been special for her, she was considering taking her own life.

And he hates himself for putting her in that position in the first place. He was the one who wanted to speed everything up, not even considering how traumatic that process could have been for her. 

But he especially doesn’t know how to feel reading just how highly Solana views and feels about him. She hasn’t been very quiet regarding how much she cares about him, but reading her words, her writing, her honesty, it makes him aware of just how much she cares. 

“You mean a lot to her. And her healing and progress moving forward will require your support.” Gail cuts in, voice calm and almost soothing. “One of the things I ask clients all the time is who their support system is and is there anything else they need from this person or persons….she couldn’t tell me a single thing she needs from you that you don’t already give her.” Roman says nothing, not even offering a nonverbal gesture or movement for her to analyze. Thus, Gail continues, reviewing her notes of topics she wanted to touch on with him prior to his seeing Solana in a few hours. “Now, I will say, Solana does exhibit strong codependent tendencies. Specifically with you. She’s extremely attached to you, and while that should probably be addressed at some point, her stabilization is the priority.”

Roman doesn’t pay much, or any, mind to that last part. He doesn’t care what this woman says. Whatever Solana needs, she’ll get. 

Especially if what she wants is him.

Cause he wants her just as much. 

________

Roman doesn’t get nervous. 

Ever.

But, he’s certain what he’s feeling in his fucking stomach is some level of nerves.

And he hates that shit.

Cause why the fuck is he at his grown age feeling anxious about seeing his wife? Perhaps it’s the fact that it’ll be the first time in a week that he’s actually laid eyes on her, seeing her not lying unconscious in a hospital bed. That he’ll be able to have her big brown eyes focused on him. Hear the sound of her voice, so soft and light.

He shuts his eyes.

Fucking nerves.

He decides to pull out his phone as a distraction while security escorts her to him in the visitors section, remembering a text from Paul that he should probably respond to. Not that he wants to, but it’s better standing here feeling fucking stupid and—

“Roman…”

He wasn’t sure just sure how he would respond or react or even feel seeing her for the first time in a week, but Solana is barely able to get his name out of his mouth when Roman snaps his head up from the phone in his hand to the direction of which the voice came. 

It happens a bit too fast for him to even process. The rise and easy falter of her smile, the gloss of her eyes, the tiny scoff of disbelief that leaves her mouth before she’s running toward him.  Roman wastes not a single fucking second to pick her up the minute she throws her body against him. And just like that, almost every trace of irritation, of vexation, of anger melts away.

Roman’s eyes shut as he holds her close against him, noticing how tightly she’s holding him back. 

Her voice cracks followed by a sniffle as she murmurs against his shoulder. “I’ve missed you….”

For a brief second, he’s angry again. Angry because has she been asking for him? And if so, why was he not informed? Stratus has been texting him frequent general updates. That she’s been consistently opening up in individual therapy, not as open in group sessions, often writes and draws during their designated free time, etc.

But nothing about her asking for him. 

He makes a mental note to ask Stratus about that shit, but not now. Now, his focus is entirely focused on the woman in his arms.

“I missed you too.” Saying he missed her feels like an understatement. Roman has been fucking miserable without her around, but what good would it serve her to share as such? So, he keeps it simple but still accurate.

He ignores the small part of him that dislikes when she finally pulls away, but that dissatisfaction is easily shoved to the side when he sees her eyes watering. “I’m so sorry. I—I didn't mean. I just—”

Roman’s focus is now solely honed in on stopping her from crying. He can’t see her upset. Not after what happened. He moves his hands to her face, gently cupping her cheeks and brushing away her tears. “Let’s talk, okay?”

She nods, stepping back, forcing his hands to drop but easily sliding her hand into one of his as she leads them in the direction from where she came. Roman won’t lie. He’s not paying attention to much in passing. Just her. It’s like there’s a blurred lens on them, distorting everything around them except his wife.

And he has zero issues with this. 

He has zero issues until they’re walking past a group of three women who seem to notice that Solana is crying and stop her, the one who almost looks like she could be Hispanic asks Solana, “are you alright?”

Who the fuck is this? Roman would most definitely ask as such as well as tell her to stay out of their damn business if not for the fact that Solana answers almost reassuringly. 

“Yes, of course.” 

To make matters worse, this irritating ass stranger has the audacity to almost send a suspicious damn near glare his way. Just who the fuck does she think she is? 

The woman on her right suddenly asks, her quiet voice strangely reminding him of Solana. Right off the bat, he can see they have similar demeanors. “You’re still joining us for breakfast, right?”

Solana answers right away, shaking her head. “Of course.”

Joining for breakfast? What the fuck is this? A psychiatric ward or summer camp?

The women all seem to give Solana that ‘call us if you need anything’ nod before finally leaving him alone with his wife. Roman has to keep his sigh to himself.

Only Solana would make ‘friends’ at a damn hospital.

She finally leads him into what he would guess is her ‘room.’ He’s instantly not impressed and annoyed because he directly instructed Stratus to make sure she had the best this place has to offer.

This clearly ain’t it. He adds it to his list of complaints to bring up to the psychiatrist. He’s also annoyed by the ‘sheet’ that serves at the door, irritated that they won’t have total privacy. But, he understands. It’s a psychiatric ward. Not the Four Seasons. 

Roman allows Solana to guide him over to her bed where she motions for him to sit down. He does as such, partially surprised when she climbs onto his lap, legs on either side. He doesn’t protest though, simply holds her by his hips as he shifts so that his back against the wall. 

Solana, however, keeps her head down, her hands scrunching the bottom of his shirt as she seems to force out, “I don’t want to talk about this—”

That’s an easy thing, Roman quickly moving to remind her of her autonomy. “Then don’t—”

She cuts him off. “But, I need to.” She finally lifts her gaze, and my God, he’s missed staring into those pretty eyes, seeing her pretty face. “I can’t—I won’t avoid it.” She takes a deep breath, asking, “what do you want to know?”

He’s partially surprised by how direct she’s being, but in his defense, the last time he spoke to her directly, she was in such a different place. A much darker place.

That doesn’t seem to be the case anymore, but he knows looks can be deceiving, so he remains cautious. His voice is surprisingly gentle, as he answers, “I think you already know the answer to that, Sol.”

Her eyes shut again, and he can’t tell if it’s because of his use of his nickname for her or the emotionality of it all. 

Both, probably. 

She brings her gaze back on him, and he hates seeing the emotion building back up. Logically, he knows that there’s no way to have this kind of conversation and emotion not be present. Doesn’t mean he has to like it though. “I just….I couldn’t think straight that night, Roman. I just kept reliving every bad thing that’s happened to me but now with the knowledge that it was my own father that was responsible. And I just….I couldn't handle it.”

This is the part he can barely handle. The knowing of the role, a large role, he played in what landed her here. He feels like shit about it and prepares to take ownership when she continues. 

“And I thought….I felt like….I felt like all the progress I had made was now gone and that I’d have to start over, and I just—-I couldn’t fathom going through all that again.” She swallows, tears starting to fall. “I felt like I would just be a burden to you and that….it would just be easier for you if I was dead.”

Gutted. Reading it was one thing, but hearing it is an entirely different experience. To know this is truly how she felt, the thought process that led to her making the decision she made. The most likely reason she didn’t call him.

Because she thought she was a burden.

It kills him.

She drops her head, and he moves his hands back to her face. “Solana, look at me.” When she continues to keep her head down, he repeats himself, voice still low and gentle. “Look at me.” She seems to hesitate but follows through, Roman hating how devastated she looks. “Nothing about my life would be easier without you in it. You are never a burden to me. You never have been, and you never will be. I want to help you. Listen to you. Whatever it is you need, I’ll do. I just need you to tell me.” This time, he’s the one swallowing back unfamiliar and uncomfortable emotions. “I just need you to not leave me, alright?” She seems slightly taken back by his honesty and vulnerability. Truthfully, so is he. It was one thing to be so honest with her while she was unconscious, but it’s another when she sits before him, aware and conscious and hanging onto every word. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about your father. I should have—”

“No. Please—please don’t.” She shakes her head, interrupting him with that same small voice. “I’m glad you didn’t.” The ‘shocked’ ball is back in his court as she explains, “I don’t….I don’t think I would have ever wanted to know the truth. It’s….it’s been too hard to have to deal with that.” 

Clearly. He can’t even begin to imagine what that’s like for her. To be stuck with the knowledge that her own flesh and blood could be so cruel, so hateful, so evil as to do what Xavier has done to his own daughter.

“The therapy has….it’s helped.” He believes it. Roman has noticed the sheets of paper that have positive affirmations and what he would guess are coping skills taped to the wall opposite her bed. She cracks a small, sad smile. “It’s….it’s been good for me.”

He believes that, too. He can see that. There’s a stark difference in her appearance, even with her being emotional as she is with the conversation at hand. She doesn’t look as fractured as the last time he saw her.

She looks stronger. Happier, even. It makes his chest swell with yet another unfamiliar sentiment.

Love, perhaps?

Just thinking about it has Roman clearing his throat, needing to focus on something other than that right now. “Have they been treating you okay?” This has been pretty high up, if not the highest, thing on his priority list.

She nods, Roman noticing and grateful that her tears are starting to dry up. “Yes. I….how many Bloodline men do you have here?”

“Enough.” She doesn’t need to know the full extent of just how above and beyond he went to ensure no one on staff at this hospital could be questionable about their intentions towards her. “I’m always gonna look out for you, baby. Always.”

Her eyes shut, not from feeling overwhelmed but something else. Something that seems less heavy and more comforting. 

Solana moves around on top of him, Roman somehow sensing what she’s trying to do, and he has zero hesitations.

He shifts his body, so he’s laying on her bed, his feet dangling off the edge of the bed, but it makes no difference to him as soon as she lays on top of him, her head cradled in his neck, her arms around him.’

“I’ve missed you.” Her arm laid against him, Roman reading to close his eyes when he catches onto something for the first time. He doesn’t know he missed it either, because it stands out. Roman gently takes her arm, turning it over.

On her inner forearm are a set of beautifully drawn butterflies of various sizes and colors, the largest being a dark blue color and the smaller one next to it, different shades of red and pinks. There are three much smaller butterflies under the two larger ones, two of them pink and the smallest also that same dark blue.

She looks up at him, offering a small smile. “It’s something they have us do in group therapy. They call it The Butterfly Project.” She shifts her body to show him her other forearm, revealing additional butterflies before she lays back down as she was. “You draw butterflies that represent the people in your life you care about and every time…you think of wanting to self-harm, you remember that you’re killing the butterflies. It’s like….like a reminder that people care about you.”

It’s an interesting concept, and judging by the emotion in her voice, a concept she resonates with deeply. Roman’s long index finger ghosts over the larger blue one as he asks, “who is this one for?” 

Solana’s smile deepens. “You.” He’s grateful that she continues to explain so he doesn't have to think much about that sentiment very similar to love that comes up at that admission. “And this one,” she gestures to the pink and red one. “--is me. My future self.” 

That doesn’t help the building emotion, so he again goes for distraction, motioning to the remaining three, asking, “and those?”

She swallows, something flashing in her eyes he can’t identify, answering gently, “I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

Her answer confuses him. He doesn’t know what to make of it, but he doesn’t want to push her either. 

“How is Dulce?” She asks suddenly, the sadness in her voice returning.

Roman won’t tell her the way her puppy sometimes sits by the front door around the time she usually gets home from work or the way she whimpers at night every so often, clearly missing her owner. He’ll spare her that, offering only a morsel of the truth. 

“The usual. Sleeping most of the day. You can tell she misses you.” 

Solana frowns. “I miss her too.” She licks her lips, asking almost nervously, “how are Bay—”

Roman is quick to shut that down, a hint of harshness in his voice. “I don’t want to talk about them.”

Truth be told, he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to look or view them the same ever again. It may be a bit irrational and unfair, but it’s how he feels. And truthfully speaking, he’s got ten million other things on his mind and in his heart he’s trying to sort through. 

“Roman…..” Solana sits up a bit, and he’s taken back for a second by how fucking beautiful she is. Even with the sadness in her eyes. “It wasn’t their fa—”

“Not now, Sol.” His tone takes on a gentler tone as he adds on, for good measure, “please. I just want to enjoy you.”

He knows she’ll bring it up again. She cares too much about the two women who Roman will never trust her with again to just let it go permanently. “Okay.” She lays herself back down on top of him, and Roman kisses the top of her head.

“How are you?”

He’s not quite sure why her question surprises him. But, the answer is an automatic, “fine.”

He’s far from fine, but she doesn't need to know that.

Again, Solana sits up, that frown almost deepening. “Are you sleeping?” She reaches over and caresses his beard. “You look tired. H–have you been taking your medicine?”

Roman is truly dumbfounded. She is the one who is currently a legally mandated patient in a psychiatric ward because she was actively suicidal only a week ago, and yet, she’s laying here worried about him. 

Roman has to push back that love feeling that’s returning. 

“I keep telling you not to worry about me,” he reminds, once again wanting and almost needing to stress to her that worrying about him should be the last thing on her plate.. “I just want you to focus on yourself.”

Her retort surprises him, bold and almost uncharacteristic of her. “And I keep telling you that I’m always going to worry about you.”

Roman chuckles, commenting, “you’re becoming more outspoken….”

She gives him a small smile. “I told you the therapy has been helping.”

Roman scoffs. She’s right. Maybe that Gemma woman does know what she’s doing. 

“Do you need anything?”

Solana says nothing, just lays back down against him, her hand moving over his chest, resting on his heart. “Just you.” She must glance at the clock on the wall as she comments, “we only have 40 minutes left….”

He knows she’s referring to the one hour time block allotted for visitors. Something he absolutely couldn't give two shits about. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.“ He’d stay the whole night if that was what she wanted. 

“Roman….” It’s funny how he already knows what she’s going to say. “The rules—”

His interruption is sharp, but it’s not aimed towards her. And she knows that. “I don’t give a fuck about rules when it comes to you.” She sighs into his chest, offering no protest, saying nothing else.

Conversation is intermittent over the next two or so hours, Solana eventually falling asleep on top of him. He doesn’t mind. As much as he enjoys talking to her, having her body on top of his is an easy, acceptable alternative.

He’s missed this. Missed being with and around her. Roman is just now realizing just how much he benefits from having her around. He’s been a complete nightmare for everyone around him outside of Dulce, even more temperamental than his usual default setting.

But the minute he laid eyes on her, saw her innocent smile, had her in his arms, everything suddenly felt so better.

That’s what she does for him. What she is for him. 

Medicine. 

An antidote. Something he never knew he was missing until he met her. It seems like it was almost impossible for him to not fall in love with her. 

Love….

Thinking about it again brings a frown to his handsome face, forcing him to face a reality that’s so easy to escape when he’s with her.

Roman may love Solana, but….he can never act on it. Not really. Can never tell her he loves her. That makes it official. That confirms that he finally has something his enemies can use against him, a distraction, a weakness.

Loving her openly would make him vulnerable, would put her at risk, and he couldn’t do that. Not just for himself but most definitely not to her. 

To be with her like this, open and vulnerable, behind closed doors is one thing. It’s an entirely different ballpark though to make that visible and public, even with just telling her.

Feeling her stir against him, Roman kisses the top of her head, tugging her closer. 

He won’t deny that he loves her. 

But, he can’t act on it either. 

He’s just going to have to find someway to push that down, tuck it away for safekeeping.

It’s just better that way. 

________

Roman stays for about two hours, Solana waking up and reluctantly expressing her okayness with him leaving. It’s not what she wants, definitely not what he wants, but it’s what’s necessary.

If even for the fact that Dulce can’t be left alone for too long.  

Solana holds onto his arm as she walks him out, Bautista not too far behind to escort her back to her room.

But, it’s when he turns to tell her bye, Roman about to ask her when she wants him to come see her again (fuck visting days), she surprises him by reaching behind her back and pulling out a sealed envelope. 

Brows furrowed, Roman is curious just how the hell he missed that when she presses it against his chest. “Promise me you won’t read it until you get home.” 

Now he’s extremely confused. It’s been a while since Solana has written to thim. They’ve progressed way past that, and it does concern him a bit that she didn’t just talk to him about whatever lies between the lines of this letter. 

But, he also knows she’s been working hard in therapy and even in being able to open up to him about what happened that night had to have been a lot for her, so he won’t push it and will respect it.

Accepting the letter, he simply says, “okay.”

She offers a close mouthed smile, a sign of appreciation and moves to hug him once more, mumbling something in Spanish against his chest that he can’t make out. When she pulls back, he doesn’t hesitate to cup her cheek, reiterating, “you need anything, you let me know, alright?” They’d already briefly discussed how she had picked up on the fact that he had his men stationed strategically all over this place, and any of them were able to get a message to him. 

She nods, repeating to him, “okay.” Solana tugs on his shirt and leans up to kiss his cheek, murmuring against his ear, “bye, Roman.”

It seems saying goodbye is difficult for her just as much as it is for him, Roman unable to reciprocate it, only letting his gaze follow her retreating form until Bautista gives him a nod and closes the door behind them. 

He stands there for a good minute or two before actually leaving.

Fuck. Leaving her seems to be getting harder and harder. 

Roman is barely in the SUV, door not even shut when his long fingers are moving with all the determination to open up the envelope. He unfolds the piece of paper, unsurprised to find her neat handwriting. 

Roman,

I need to ask you to do something for me, but I need you to please hear me out before you settle on an answer. And please know I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I didn’t believe it’s something I really need. 

I’m so sorry for putting you through this. I never want to cause you any stress or create any problems for you. 

I wasn’t in a good place, and this experience has made me realize there’s still a lot of parts of me that still need to heal. I still have a lot to work through. 

That’s why I’m asking.

Gail mentioned a treatment facility she runs about an hour away. It’s a 6 week program for women coming out of the hospital like I will be. 

Roman, I think I should go. 

I don’t think I should come home just yet.

I don’t feel ready. I’m not having those thoughts or urges anymore, but there’s still things I think I need to work through. I don’t ever want to put you through something like this again. I don’t ever want to end up back here again, but the only way I can do that is by making sure I’m good before I leave.

And I don’t know if another week can do that. 

I miss you. So much. It’s been hard being away from you and Dulce and everyone else. But, I feel like I have to do this. I need to do this. 

For us. 

But mostly for me. 

I want to get better.

Please let me.

Te quiero mucho,

Solana

BTW, I’m saying ‘I love you very much’ in Spanish. 

Because I do. 

I love you, Ro.

And I don’t need you to say it back or feel the same. With what you’ve been through, I’d never expect or ask that of you.

I just need you. Your continued support. That’s all. That’s enough.

With all my love,

Solana

________

“I’m so sick of your bloody fuckin’ shit, Seth! It’s the same fuckin’ thing over and over again, and I’m done!” 

The cadence, melody, and even tone of his wife’s rant serves as the perfect resources for Seth who is lazily sprawled out across their sofa, beer in one hand, the other hand moving as if conducting an orchestra. 

And he is.

Because this has become a song and dance with his fiery tempered, Irish wife.

Seconds later, she’s practically stomping in the living room, their daughter in hand who is most definitely old enough to remember this little spat. He cackles to himself. How unfortunate.

However, Becky’s enraged gaze is focused on him, disgust plastered all over. “Were you even listenin’ to me?”

He makes a sound, unbothered eyes falling on her, that infamous smile growing. “Of course, dear.”

Becky, however, knows better. Has been with this man long enough to know better. And she’s done. “Ya know, I thought you were getting better, yeah? But then that bloke Breaker comes over here looking for you, and I—” Becky cuts herself off, refusing to start yelling with her daughter in her arms. Her accent is even thicker, as she shares while adjusting the bag on her other shoulder, “I’m gonna go stay with Charlotte til’ I can figure out just what I’m gonna do.”

What she’s not saying is that she’ll stay with her closest American friend until she can find the funds and resources to move back home. 

She’s just done.

Seth, however, seems unconcerned by the fact that she’s leaving with their kid. “Okay, dear.” He snorts, falling into that all too familiar maniacal laugh. The one that typically accompanies the reckless and dangerous behavior that has her packed and ready to go. It was one thing when it was just the two of them, but with a child now, Becky has a responsibility to keep her daughter safe.

And there is nothing safe about her husband rekindling ties with the Nightmare Factory.

Not wanting him to see the pending tears, Becky kisses her daughter’s cheek and heads for the door, not allowing herself to hesitate as she rips it open only for her jaw to drop.

She scoffs. Unbelievable. With even more support for her decision to leave, Becky looks over her shoulder at her husband who climbs to his feet. “First the Nightmare Factory, and now the fuckin’ Bloodline?” She shakes her head. “Yeah, you dig your own fuckin’ grave, Seth.” 

And with that, she moves past the figures, determined to not look back this time.

Meanwhile, a massive smile grows on Seth’s unshaven face, delight dancing in his dark eyes.

This is certainly proving to be such an eventful day. 

He practically stumbles over but manages to stand firm as he takes a swig of his beer, burping loudly and then asking with all of the excitement, evil smile on his face.

“How can I help you?”

[777heavengirl]

bags

sirius black x reader one-shot ! warnings: the good kind of yearning.., friends to roommates to ?lovers?, bittersweetie, no war!au words count: 2,549 masterlist

a/n: might make a series of little blurbs as a continuation... undecided so lmk what u think!!!

Being friends with Sirius Black was the worst idea you could've ever had. It was hell. He was charming, awfully so. Flirty and caring with his friends in a way that made your heart skip a beat and your breath catch in your throat. He was the type of friend with no physical boundaries, his legs often thrown over yours, his arms often over your shoulders, lips whispering jokes into your ear.

It was an even worse idea to agree to move in with him after you graduated. James had gone off with Lily and Remus and Peter decided to split an apartment. Sirius, naturally, found one in the same building and dropped the twin key in your hand on graduation day, a wicked smile on his face. He hadn't even properly asked you. He had assumed, well he hoped, that you'd accept no matter what. He knew you had no other plans, no other place to go. He knew you'd love to because he knew you. Because he was your best friend.

So he didn't ask. The small silver dog keychain attached to the key was enough for you. 

The answer was always going to be yes. 

Living with Sirius meant a lot of things. It meant an abnormal amount of blankets and cushions thrown about, it meant the ever-growing collection of pictures framed on your walls or merely pasted on if Sirius had his way. Ever since Lily gifted him a muggle camera for graduation, he hadn't stopped taking pictures. Of your friends, of you in the kitchen or on your couch, your first night in the apartment he took pictures of your every move. He titled them all, in the back or on the bottom of it.

Darling brushing her teeth, 1st night in #717. You smiled through your toothbrush, shirt askew, with pajama pants that did not match in the slightest.

Doll’s first tea in #717 You couldn't see your face in this one, it was a closer shot of your hands around the teacup Lily bought you fifth year, the delicate flower pattern on the hard porcelain contrasting against the soft of your skin.

He titled them all, with his cursive loops and cloying nicknames. He’d even owl copies of them to your mom— why they even communicated was beyond you— you’d then have to repeatedly remind her, when your parents phoned, that 717 was your apartment number, and no mom I am not dating Sirius, yes I know he’s a wonderful guy, yes I’ll tell him you said hello. His photography habit had gotten so bad he even took pictures of the ladybug that seemed to live in the leaves of the small English Lavander that sat on your windowsill.

 Living with Sirius meant putting up with his tendency to ignore the fact that you needed to get a job, in fact, he'd drag you everywhere with him to avoid you even applying, his hand intertwined with yours, warm palms pressed against one another. He did it all the time, holding your hand, pressing a kiss against your temple when he insisted on getting into the crowded muggle metro more often than not, your bodies pressed together as he held you when the tube moved. Every time you complained, that he was holding you hostage, that at this pace you'd never find a job, he'd ask, with his head cocked to the side "Why do you have to get a job anyway? It's not like we need it"

"Sirius I need to make money," the tube shook the two of you, his arm instinctively wrapping around you to pull you closer as the other one maintained a white-knuckled grip on the bar above. "How am I going to afford anything? It’s been two years my savings are gone-"

"You don't need it though," his words were low on your ear, and carefree as if they didn't hold any importance. "I have more than enough to maintain us— for anything you might want" Your face heated, and you looked down hiding the surprise that you prayed he wouldn't see.

"I can't just bum off of you," your words were a timid mumble, and he barely heard you over the intercom announcing the station, if it wasn't because he had been tilted down close to your face, he might've not heard you at all. 

"You're not bumming off of me love, I want to take care of you, yea?" he pressed a kiss to the side of your hair, and you didn't refute. Not for now. Because in moments like these, when he acted like it was the most obvious answer in the world and didn't seem to give it a second thought, you could feel the words claw at your throat from the inside. A confession poisoning you from the inside out. 

But then he'd look at you.

With his gray eyes, the steel cool of them making your lungs expand wider than you thought possible and your heart beat out of your chest. So you'd decide, every time, that it wasn't the right moment. There was never a right time to tell your best friend and roommate that you were in love with him though. And through his piercing gaze, you thought he could see you using everything within you to hold back. 

You guessed it could be worse.

Being in love with Sirius Black was actually the worst thing to ever happen to you. It got even worse when you moved in together. Waking up to his shirtless self making you coffee the way you liked it, his head disheveled and unruly from bed but somehow just as gorgeous as when he had it fresh and styled, his long dark locks looking nothing short of heavenly in either form. It was the intimacy really— the domesticity of it all— that screwed you. Eating your eggs and toast over the soft tunes of his music, going to the market together, his fingers eventually finding yours as his other hand carried the shopping. His laundry mixed in with yours, falling asleep on the couch together, old muggle movies playing on the TV he bought four months after moving in. You still didn't have a stand for it, it sat on two boxes full of books. Neither of you minded, there was no rush after all. But then you thought of his unpacked bags and the singular box of belongings, it had been a bit more than two years since you moved in. Two years since you started the routine of getting dragged everywhere he went, spending your days lounging around with Sirius like nothing else mattered. But his trunk still housed half his belongings. His walls had a couple of pictures he had sellotaped on, and the large David Bowie poster he had bought the summer after sixth year, yet his clothes would go in and out of his trunk, and his closet sat mostly empty save the lone leather jacket he insisted on hanging. 

The thought of his lack of settling made your tummy twist in discomfort. 

But, again, you guessed it could be worse. Godric forbid you ever confess.

He'd be walking out the door with his bags.

You decided you'd be okay with letting it all rot inside of you. You didn't want to be too forward or rush into things when you, practically, knew he didn't feel the same. So you savored it, with everything you had in you. The stolen touches and even more stolen glances. The kiss he pressed against your cheek when he'd say goodbye, apparating away to go drink the night away with the rest of the marauders, James escaping from his soon-to-be father duties for a few hours. Sirius would press a kiss to your flushed cheeks when you'd go out with Lily as well, a small stay safe love, escaping his lips right before you slipped out the door.

"Tell him how I feel? Is pregnancy melting your brain, Lily?" You almost spit out your sweet cocktail. Lily flicked your forehead. 

"My brain is perfectly fine thank you very much," She huffed, the corners of her lips aching to break into a smile as she rubbed a hand over her pregnant belly.

"You two are practically together, you live together for Godric's sake" Marlene scoffed over her beer,

"Not to mention the shared bank account-" you slapped your forehead as Dorcas let the fact that he'd been basically spoiling you for a year slip, "And I've seen the way he looks at you sweets-" Dorcas's words were slurred by the alcohol in her system, and her head resting against Marlene's shoulder. "You don't look at someone that way unless you're in love with them"

Lily almost spit out her juice as she turned to you with wide eyes. "You got a shared vault now? James and I didn't even do that yet-"

You shook your head, "No no, crap Cas-" you took a shaky breath, as Marlene shook her head in disappointment and groaned out a small You're impossible. "He just keeps paying for things, and he won't let me get a job- honest, I've tried but he keeps planning things and I just never have any time-"

"So is he holding you captive or- I just don't see why you can't get a job" The three girls looked at you, incredulous looks on their faces as you struggled to explain.

"He just keeps saying to not worry-" You hid behind your hands now, embarrassment crawling up your neck. "I don't know- It's complete rubbish, he's insistent on the fact that he wants to take care of me" The girls let out a collective 'aww', all screaming eagerly over each other

"I should've kept it all to myself" you mumbled as you raised your now-empty glass at your waitress, the older woman shooting you a nod as she went to bring you another one. The girls booed at you, 

"Now that'd be no fun would it?" Lily shoved your shoulder playfully, Marlene and Dorcas giggling in agreement. 

Tell him how you feel.

The thought bounced in your head as you trudged up to your apartment. Fumbling with the keys as you tried to steady yourself. But you didn't need to, as Sirius opened the door. His shirt missing and his burgundy red pajama pants sat loosely at his hips, but you knew he hadn't slept yet. Otherwise, you would've been able to tell— his hair would be a mess, as he tended to bury his head between his pillows, blocking the world away while he slept.

"I could hear you fumbling your keys from down the hall doll" you giggled as you entered, your body instinctively falling into his for a hug. He couldn't help but laugh either, your cheek pressed against his chest as you mumbled out a thank you. The couple of drinks you had made you feel more than loose, giggly and you couldn't help but let the words slip from your lips.

"I love you, terribly so" you'd probably regret such a statement in the morning.

"I love you too darling" you groaned out a no as you peeled yourself off, it poured out of you instinctively. You threw yourself on the soft couch James's parents had given the two of you. We're throwing it out anyway lovies you keep it. You were sure, by Euphemia's playful glint, that this wasn't quite the case. But you appreciated it, the plush sofa softening your intentional fall. Sirius laughed as he approached the couch, crouching next to where your face was smushed into the smooth material of the sofa. His fingers moved the hair away from your face, his eyes locking in with yours as his lips split into a lazy smile.

"Knew you'd make fun of me," You mumbled and his lips twisted into an exaggerated pout now, repressing the need to laugh and you buried your face into the cushions with another groan. 

He would've been lying if he said his heart hadn't skipped a beat, a flicker of hope that maybe, you felt as he did. Maybe your heart ran quicker when he held your hand, maybe the goodnight kisses you pressed against his cheek, against his forehead meant more, maybe the smile you had given him when he presented you with the key to your shared apartment, the smile that made him feel as if he was staring straight into the sun, meant something more. 

But for now, that would have to wait.

As he got you up and into the bathroom, wiping your makeup off with a damp cloth, you gave a mumbled slurred summary of your night. He made you close your eyes as he wiped away the mascara, and you listed the vague number of drinks you'd had— plus the drinks you had to make up for Lily’s inability to drink right now, Marlene’s idea of course. His fingers curled around your chin as he moved your face, and at any other moment, you would've been positively frazzled. But as you spoke of the shaky walk home after Marlene dropped you off down the street, you could only revel in his touch as he hummed along and got you ready for bed. The stubborn lipstick made his cheeks flush as he wiped at your lips repeatedly, making them look plump and if he hadn't had the ounce of self-control he still vaguely maintained he would've kissed you right there and then. But it just wasn't the time for it, there's never a right time to tell your best friend and roommate you're in love with them, is there?

Stumbling around the room with you, the pajamas he managed to get over your form as he tried not to look at you in your underwear— not that you cared at the minute— it all made his heart swell. A stolen moment for him to think on later, the small giggles that escaped your face, or the innocent clutch you had on his hand. You ran your fingers down the features of his face as he helped you lay down. He tucked you into your bed with a kiss on your cheek and a giggle erupting from your chest.

His heart ached with longing but he guessed it could be worse. 

You could've said no to living with him. 

You gave him a faux pout, and he mirrored it. 

"What is it lovely?" 

"Missed you tonight-" he could feel the crimson intensify in his cheeks at your words, but he ignored the flush and moved a stray hair away from your face. 

"I missed you too love, next time let's go together yeah?" You hummed in agreement, a small love you slipping past right as your eyes fluttered shut, sleep covering you like a blanket.

"I fear I might be in love with you doll," he sighed, yet you didn't answer to his whispered confession. Your chest rose and fell steadily. Part of him was glad, the thought of your reaction to his feelings chilling him to the core. It could be worse, he thought. 

Yes, he'd rather have this than nothing at all. Godric forbid he ever confesses.

You'd be walking out the door with your bags.

[reonnex]

The infantilization of book!Wylan and show!Wylan really needs to be looked at.

This isnt a call out, or trying to hate on anyone, just an overall thing I've seen throughout being in this fandom

In the books while Wylan is a child he is also 16. People underestimate him into innocent and even younger. And while he is naive, this does not make him innocent. He has his own morals, own judgment that havent been ripped away from him yet. He is just trying to survive.

People use the "we could wake them up line" a lot snd I agree! But to also look at the full lines as well

Wylan gestured to the guards. "Is it safe to leave them, you know-"

"Alive? I'm not big on killing unconscious men."

"We could wake them up."

"Pretty ruthless, merchling. Have you ever killed anyone?"

"I'd never even seen a dead body before I came to the Barrel." Wylan admitted.

"It's not something to be embarrassed about," Jesper said, surprising himself a little. But he meant it. Wylan needed to learn to take care of himself, but it would be nice if he could do it without getting on friendly terms with death."Make sure the gags are tight."

This isnt him being ruthless. Its him being logical. He is taking what Jesper says to heart. Wake them instead of killing them unconscious. Which they do end up tying the soldiers to the pole and leaving. Him having morals shouldn't contribute to claims of him being innocent.

Wylan is worried about hurting people but will do so if nessecasry to save his friends. We can see this in the show and books. In the show he does not want to make bombs for Kaz, but does so in the end because he acknowledges he has to survive. He is worried about Alby, but goes along with the plan still.

All these are what makes Wylan, wylan. It is his fundamentals, his morals and idels. They are not however claims to see how sweet and innocent he is and how he was corrupted.

Ontop of this, while it is never y it is hevaily implied that Wylan is also autistic. (Also, correct me if im wrong please, but im pretty sure Jack did talk about this.) Autistic people get infantilizated already, and I've had my own fair share of this as well. ( I am autistic and have a learning disabilitiy, as well a speech impedament that I still struggle with.) I have to work harder to make sure people treat me as a twenty year old. Because that is my age, and there is a significant difference in attitude in how people treat me when they know im autistic, and when they don't.

And for Wylan, I feel like its the same issue. While it may not be intentional, ive been people coo over the fact Wylan has done simple tasks or teen experiences. Him having Jesper read to him, getting flustered when talking to him, Wylan not understanding social cues as well as others and taking things to face value.

You can be excited for him and think it's sweet, but to also acknowledge that there is a line between "Thats adorable" and "He's adorable." Wylan is someone who is neurodivergent. He was extrmetly sheltred as a child and was never given the proper tools to help his dyslexia, due to this he has struggles that shouldn't be overlooked or seen as "cute" when he experiences outcomes due to the situation he was in. Whenever he doesn't understand social cues, i.e., "Whos mark." People giggling and saying it's silly or cute when he doesn't understand the cues. That's infantilizating! You are viewing things he struggles with in the lens of watching a child understanding the world. Which Wylan isn't. He is a teenager, no matter the circumstances. His age should be understood.

This infantilization also effects wesper in how people view the two of them. Many people view black people as "older, the man in the relationship, rugged" while the white person is seen as the "women, younger, more innocent."

Infact, I think the show only worsned it for Wylan. As now there are faces to names.

Jack does have a youthful face, but still looks his age. I have a babyface and even now at 20 I look much older then I did at 16. The same goes for Jack. He cant control how he looks but because of his youthful features people only push for this racially hetaronormative mindset more between Wylan and Jesper (Even if its untitional).

Even Kit looks his age as well and has a baby face. He's 29 right now but was in his mid twenties during filming. Season 1 was filmed back in 2019 but due to covid post production got set back, and season 2 was filmed in the beginning of 2022. But why is it only Wylan who is infantilizated? Jesper struggles just as much with his ADHD and trauma as Wylan does.

Jack and Kit are only one year apart, the same in the books but still ive been Wylan be portrayed as the "poor innocent child who was abused." and Jesper as the "he needs to get over his addiction hes a grown man/ he's too mean to Wylan."

In society now so many black teens are seen as adults and treated as such, while white teens are seen as younger and not pushed so hard. The same can be seen for wesper.

Ive even seen people on Tiktok and other socials claim that Jesper was rude to Wylan and abusive. (WHERE???). Both Wylan and Jesper have said things that hurt the other, and they both apologized for it, and get grilled as well. In the show and books they learn and grow. The infantilization of Wylan doesnt hurt just him but plays into racial stereotypes and also microagressions. Why is it that when the white character is calling someone out its "deserved" but when the black character (who might I add had no idea) makes a side comment he is labled as cruel and abusive?

In so many shows and books the black character is usually portrayed as the joker character. Six Of Crows does this as well, which is something important to not ingore. Jesper is seen as the flirty joke character. However the only difference is soc also show more sides to his character by letting him be vulnerable. Letting Jesper show his struggles to the audience as well, how his neurodivergece effects him, letting him dress in skirts and bold colors that step away from the gender norm. So many times in media the black character is just there for shits and giggles, or is used as the villan/antagonist.

It believe its really important to understand this, and to acknowledge if your infantilizating him, or even using microagressions on Jesper unintentionally, then to learn to understand why and to grow from them.

[see-arcane]

Mina:  "Some may not think it so sad for us, but we had both come to so love him that it really seems as though we had lost a father. I never knew either father or mother, so that the dear old man’s death is a real blow to me. Jonathan is greatly distressed."

Mina writing to Lucy how she feels about Mr Hawkins' death because no one but Jonathan can understand why she's in mourning...

She's craving for a friend to understand her (Jonathan is too wrecked to talk) but she will receive silence...

Just another sign to prove how very small hers and Jonathan's social circle really is. They have literally no one other than themselves beyond one employer, now dead, and Lucy, now at death's and undeath's door.

With Jonathan still being ground into a fine paste by trauma, fresh grief, illness, and wrestling with clockwork nightmares, he's holding on by his fingernails. Mina knows she is very much the only support he has and that being his rock is vital if they're to drag themselves through this latest blow. He cannot be her shoulder to lean on when she's keenly aware of how fundamentally gutted he still is by whatever happened to him in those missing months and by losing his mentor within a heartbeat of finally getting home and now being entrusted to steer an entire business on his own.

It's a lot. It's too fucking much, in fact. So Mina bottles her stress--hello Whitby "vacation" 2.0--and saves it for a letter. For Lucy, her only other friend in the world besides Jonathan. And she will never hear from that friend again, because she's busy being murdered and dragged by the throat into Dracula's thrall.

Within a week, the Harkers will discover that the only two people they loved outside themselves are gone. They are alone and hurting and clinging to one another's hand.

Childhood all over again.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

The Kids Are All Right | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: recovering from an assault (heed this warning pls my loves), canon gore, canon violence, angst

Word Count: 4773

A/N: Heyyyy.... accidentally posted two at the same time haha. No episode this Saturday as a result; I'm sorry, y'all!! But a little extra treat today!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You and Sam spoke almost twice daily after your heart-to-heart leaving Lincoln. You were incredibly grateful to still have his friendship; even if your phone calls had to be carefully maneuvered around times when Dean was in the room. 

You were unsure how to feel about the fact that Sam was still trying to find ways to break Dean’s deal knowing he’d die if that happened but would also support your friend in whatever his decision was. You refused to have any involvement in picking between the lives of the two brothers, though, even if you were falling deeper and deeper in love with him with each passing day. 

Just the thought of seeing him again was enough to have butterflies swirling in your stomach. You were terrified of what he’d say to you, yes, but you missed him so dearly. As chaotic as he could be at times, he truly was your rock. And with each day that passed, the sore pang in your heart at the thought of him seemed to intensify.

Not to mention, your struggle with your assault was draining you. Your heart hurt every time you walked past a mirror, and every once in a while, you’d see yourself in that guard uniform.

“Where are you guys?” you asked Sam through the phone as you walked around your motel room pulling clothes on.

“Cicero, Indiana,” Sam replied.

Your heart and stomach dropped. “What?”

“No way you’re here, too,” Sam began to laugh.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Sam! I purposefully picked a case that seemed like it wouldn’t pan out to stay away from him!” you replied frantically. “I mean, ‘guy falls on his own power saw’ doesn’t exactly scream unsolved mysteries!”

Sam was still laughing, but cleared his throat before talking again. “Yeah, but Dean’s cruisin’ for a hookup, too. That’s his main motivation, I think.”

You scoffed and ignored the burning feeling in your chest. “Of course, he is. Who is it this time?”

“Lisa Braeden. His… five day road trip from about eight years ago,” Sam explained. 

“Oh,” you breathed out. “Gumby girl.”

“So you know of her,” Sam said.

“Oh, yeah! After one of the first times we had sex, he told me I gave Gumby Girl a run for her money. ‘Best sex of my life before you’ is a direct quote,” you told him.

“Okay, ew,” Sam grimaced. “I don’t need to hear about your sex life—”

“It was topically relevant, Sam!”

“—and this is apparently one of his ‘dying wishes’.” 

“Way to let me down easy, jackass,” you sassed at the brunet’s clear inability to read the room in this situation. 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

“It’s fine. I’ll leave. Let Dean have his fun,” you continued.

“No, don’t!” Sam begged. “At least stay till tomorrow so we can meet for coffee. I’m sure Dean ‘ll still be out with Gumby.”

“We should probably call that poor woman by her actual name,” you giggled. “But sure. I’ll stay till then.”

“Great!” You could practically hear Sam grinning on the other end of the phone. “I’ll call you when I get up tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Bye, Sammy.”

***

Someone pounding on your door at around one in the morning woke you up with a start. Swiftly, you put the barrel of your gun to the door and listened because there was no peephole for you to look through. You opened the door a crack when you heard nothing for a moment to reveal Dean staring at the ground before looking up at you.

Shocked, you slammed the door in his face and threw your gun at your bed. Unfortunately, you’d forgotten to lock the door behind you, and Dean waltzed into your bedroom.

“(Y/N), you can’t leave,” the man told you.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Dean? How did you even find me?!” you cried. “What, you think after three weeks of not talking I’m just gonna let you— Especially after you just fucked Gumby Girl—!” You began pacing around the room.

“I didn’t fuck Gumby Girl, (Y/N),” he said softly, still standing close to the door.

You scoffed and crossed your arms, suddenly very aware of the underwear and oversized band t-shirt you wore to bed that night. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” he replied, still staring at the ground. His hands stayed in his leather jacket pockets. “Couldn’t bring myself to even try.”

You threw your arms out in frustration. “What, am I supposed to forgive you for not fucking one out of the many Sam’s been telling me about you being with since I left?!”

Dean seemed stunned.

“Yeah! So, I’m sorry, but you’re not just gonna waltz in here and act like everything’s fine and dandy,” you chortled coldly.

“Are you gonna give me a chance to explain myself?” he questioned angrily.

“Why should I?” you scoffed.

“Because you love me! I thought that was the whole point!” he argued.

You stared him down, eyebrows drawn together. “Well, you obviously don’t love or respect me enough not to go fuck random girls literal days after I leave.”

“I do!” he shot back. “Would you just fucking listen? I was drinking alone when Sam thought I was with those other chicks.”

You said nothing, still glaring at him.

“I didn’t fuck any of them, (Y/N), ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about you!”

Tension hung thick in the air between the two of you, and you looked up at him with dewey eyes. When you couldn’t stand to hold his gaze anymore, you turned away. “Why didn’t you call? Why didn’t you… say it back? Say anything back?” Your voice broke while you talked. 

“I should’ve,” Dean replied quietly. “I- I’m sorry I didn’t.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have left you guys with those demons.”

You felt Dean’s fingers gently graze your arm, and he waited for you to flinch away for a moment. When you didn’t, he reached out and gingerly turned you to face him and held you to his chest. 

You melted into him almost immediately and let all of the emotion you’d been holding back for the past three weeks out. He rested his head on top of yours and just held you there for a minute. 

“I can’t watch you die, Dean,” you told him, still hugging him tightly. “I can’t do it.”

“I’m not asking you to,” he said. “Can you just… stick around till my time is up?” He gently pushed you away from him slightly to turn your eyes up to meet his gaze. “Please? It’s my dying wish.”

You giggled through your tears but nodded. You immediately dove back into his chest. “I don’t want you to leave,” you whispered. 

“I don’t wanna leave you,” he said, voice beginning to shake. “But I couldn’t let ‘im die, (Y/N). I couldn’t do it.” “I know,” you nodded. 

The two of you stood there holding each other once more until Dean spoke up again. “And, uh… ditto, by the way.”

“What?” you snorted, pulling away from him. 

“What you said… at Bobby’s,” he explained, avoiding your eyes.

“You love me?” you asked, smiling lopsidedly.

Dean just nodded. 

“And you told me just by saying ‘ditto’?” You burst out into laughter at Dean’s attempt at vulnerability. 

Dean went red in the face and turned away. 

“No, no!” you said, immediately quieting down. “It’s just— that was so cute. You’re adorable when you can’t emote properly.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, tilting your chin up to kiss you passionately and effectively silence your laughter. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck immediately; almost like a reflex. 

When you pulled away, you leaned your forehead against Dean’s. 

“You know I’m not letting you leave again,” he said.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you smiled. 

***

You sat on the bed facing a shirtless Dean who was reclining against the headboard on a pillow while he told you his story from yesterday. He lazily drew circles on your outermost hip with his thumb as he talked. 

“So, I went to her house, right? ‘Cause… y’know. Gumby Girl,” he began sheepishly. “And, uh, turns out, she’s got a son.”

“Jesus, really?” you replied. “I forget most people have kids at our age.”

“See, this is where it gets interesting,” Dean continued. “So I go out to the backyard, and I see this kid, and (Y/N), I’m telling you, he looked just like me. Acted just like me, too. It felt like fuckin’ Freaky Friday.”

“Dean, don’t tell me—”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,” he cut you off. “But no. Lisa said he’s not mine.”

“How do you know she’s not lying?” you asked. You finally processed the story Dean was telling you, and realization washed over you in tidal waves. “You could have a child. You might be his father. What the fuck.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” he said. “It’s freakin’ me out, man. But that’s not all.”

“Dean, if this involves a paternity test that names you as a match, I’m gonna start freakin’ out,” you said.

“No, no, it doesn’t. At least, not yet,” he chuckled. 

You glared at him.

He laughed. “Anyway, I think there really is a case here. One of those kids at the party was weird.”

“Yeah, Dean, kids are weird. Any other earth-shattering news I should be aware of?” you snorted.

Dean deadpanned at you. “You know what I mean. She wasn’t standin’ all the way upright—”

“Maybe she just has scoliosis—” you cut in.

Dean kept talking over you. “—And she kept glaring at everybody—”

“—I glare at everybody—” you continued.

“—And it’s the kid whose dad fell on the power saw.”

You considered for a moment. “Okay, maybe there is something happening. But it could also just be how her grief is manifesting.”

“Yeah, but (Y/N), all kinds of freaky accidents have been happening all over the neighborhood,” Dean explained further. “People fallin’ off ladders, drowning in hot tubs—”

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” you sighed.

“What’s your hold-up with all this?” he asked.

“Whaddya think, Dean,” you deadpanned.

“What, Lisa?” He seemed genuinely shocked. 

“I just think we should leave this town in our rearview mirror. Y’know, between Gumby Girl and her kid that’s potentially yours— oh, god,” you muttered when you fully realized Dean might have a son.

“(Y/N), he’s probably not mine. I mean, she said he wasn’t,” Dean reminded you.

“Somehow, that’s not making me feel better,” you grumbled. 

Dean pulled you down toward him and gently kissed your lips.

“Dean—” you tried, but he cut you off with another kiss. “Dean—” and he kissed you again, “—you can’t just—” another kiss, “distract me with this stuff—” another kiss, “—when we’re in the middle of a serious discussion.”

Dean kissed you once more and pulled you to straddle his hips. “It’s working, isn’t it?”

“Unfortunately,” you smiled against his lips.

When Dean tried to grind up into you, though, you suddenly jerked back from him. 

He looked up at you in concern. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head, tears swimming in your eyes. “I— I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s—”

“It’s okay,” Dean assured you. “We don’t have to do anything. It’s alright.”

You laid down on Dean’s chest, closing your eyes and trying to steady your breathing. Dean kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you to comfort you. Oh, how grateful you were to know him.

***

Later that day, you and Dean walked back to the Impala after investigating a few of the houses where accidents had happened recently. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; no cold spots, no EMF, nothing resembling a creature’s lair. It was all very “Stepford” in Dean’s opinion.

When you’d almost reached the car, Dean abruptly grabbed your arm. You gasped slightly and turned to face the direction he was. 

“That’s him,” Dean whispered. “That’s the kid.”

You looked ahead at a little boy with spiky brown hair wearing a canvas jacket sitting sadly on a park bench. 

Dean slid his hand down your arm to your hand and pulled you along with him. “Hey, Ben,” he told the kid.

The boy looked up at Dean. “Hey. You were at my party.” Ben seemed to notice you for the first time. “ ‘Sup?” the little guy nodded at you, attempting to smirk through his apparent sadness. 

‘Jesus, this really might be Dean’s kid,’ you thought. 

“I'm Dean, this is (Y/N),” he said, sitting down next to Ben on the bench. You stood next to Dean cautiously. “Everything okay? Something wrong?” Dean asked Ben, who didn’t respond. 

You noticed the empty gaming console case Ben was holding and looked out to the field to see a group of four boys playing with something that looked just about the size to fit the case.

“Is that your game they're playing with?” the older Winchester asked Ben.

The little boy  wouldn’t look at you or Dean. “Ryan Humphrey borrowed it, and now, he won't give it back.”

Dean was immediately ready to beat up eight-year-olds. “Well, you want me to go—”

“No!” Ben exclaimed, grabbing Dean’s arm. “Don't go over there! Only bitches send a grown-up.”

Dean grinned. “You’re not wrong.”

This whole interaction was completely flooring you; rendering you unable to add anything to the conversation.

“And I am not a bitch,” Ben finished.

Dean pointed to a boy wearing long cargo shorts holding the gaming console. “Is that Humphrey? The one that needs to lay off the burgers?”

The little boy smiled and nodded.

Dean hummed. 

“Dean, what are you—”

He ignored you and turned to Ben to talk to him in a hushed voice. You couldn’t quite hear what Dean was telling him to do, and you were puzzled when Ben got up from the bench and started walking over to the group of boys.

“They’re gonna eat that poor kid alive, dude, what were you thinking?” you chastised him, shoving his shoulder lightly. 

“Just watch,” Dean urged.

Ben turned back around to the two of you, and Dean offered him a thumbs-up and a grin. 

A moment later, Ben turned away from the bullies before whipping back around and kicking the boy holding his game straight between his legs twice.

“Dean, what the fuck,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

Ben walked back to you and Dean, triumphantly smiling and holding his game. “Thanks! Dude, that was awesome!”

Suddenly, a gorgeous woman stormed up to you, Dean, and Ben. “Benjamin Isaac Braeden! What has gotten into you?!”

“Gumby Girl,” you realized. 

Dean smacked your thigh lightly to get you to be quiet.

“He stole my game!” Ben tried to explain.

“So you kick him? Since when is—” she looked down at Dean and scoffed. “Did you tell my son to beat up that kid?”

“What?” Dean was still smiling. “Somebody had to teach him how to kick the bully in the nads.”

“Who asked you to teach him anything?” Lisa argued.

“You’re right, he’s sorry,” you said, trying to pull Dean away.

“What are you even still doing here? We had one weekend together a million years ago. You don't know me. And you have no business with my son,” Lisa raged, grabbing Ben’s hand to walk off with him. “Just leave us alone.”

“He will!” you asserted, to both Lisa and Dean. 

Ben broke out of his mother’s grip and ran back to Dean, wrapping his arms around his legs in a tight hug. 

“Thanks,” Ben smiled up at Dean.

Your heart melted and broke at the sight. 

As Ben returned to his mother, you saw three children a few yards beyond them standing in a straight line and turning their heads in tandem. Dean seemed to have noticed, too, and the two of you decided to get out of there as quickly as possible.

When you got into the Impala, you couldn’t say a word. 

Dean looked over at you. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” you replied.

“You look like you’re suckin’ on a lemon. C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.

“He really does seem like your kid,” was all you could manage to say.

Dean sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

“And, uh, if that does end up being the case—”

“Whoa, what?” Dean cut you off. “Since when am I following up with that?”

You sighed. “I don’t know, Dean, if you are his father, the kid deserves to have you in his life.”

“Sweetheart, the best thing I can do for that kid is get the hell away from him,” Dean replied. “He doesn’t need to be anywhere near me or this life.”

“Why?” you said. “ ‘Cause you think you’d be bad at it? You were great with him today.— y'know, aside from encouraging assault.”

“Yeah, (Y/N), for two seconds,” he said. “Why are you pushing this anyway?”

You paused. “I don’t know, I thought it might just be good for you. Give you an opportunity to live out your last year in peace. Happy.”

Dean’s posture softened, and he said nothing for a moment. “Thanks, but no. I’d take you and huntin’ evil sons of bitches over Middle America any day.” He reached out to you and pulled you to him, placing a kiss to the side of your head. 

***

When you arrived at the boys’ motel room, Sam was at his laptop researching. 

“Somethin’s wrong with the kids in this town,” you told him as you took your jacket off.

Sam replied without looking away from his computer, “Yeah. Tell me about it. So, what do you know about changelings?”

“Evil monster babies?” Dean questioned.

“No, not babies,” you chimed in.

“They're kids,” Dean realized. “Creepy, ‘stare at you like you're lunch’ kids?”

Sam nodded. “There's one at every victim's house.”

“Oh, that’s just perfect,” you mumbled.

“What?” Sam questioned. 

“We got a pile of missing kids being kept in a hole somewhere and a fuckton of changelings we gotta torch. Dean, where’s your kerosene?”

“Already on it,” he said, leaving the room.

“So, I’m guessing you talked things out,” Sam said once the door closed behind Dean.

“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled playfully. 

“So… you’re not leaving?” Sam questioned.

“No. Not yet, anyway,” you said, tone becoming more serious. “I’ll be there to tell him ‘bye,’ but I won’t watch him get dragged to hell. I can’t do that, Sam.”

The younger Winchester paused. “I get it. Hopefully, we won’t have to.”

Dean came back into the room not a moment later holding his torch and grinning.

“You and your gadgets,” you laughed warmly. 

“So, changelings can perfectly mimic children,” Sam began. “According to lore, they climb in the window, snatch the kid. Y'know, there were marks on the windowsill at one of the kid's houses. Looked to me like blood.”

“The changeling grabs a kid, assumes its form, joins the happy fam just for kicks?” Dean questioned.

“I wish that were the case,” you said. “Changelings feed on the mom’s synovial fluid. Sam, did you notice any strange bruising on their backs? It’d be just below the base of their neck?”

“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Sam asked you. 

“It’s the typical spot they feed from,” you replied. “On the end of their creepy, face-hugger-from-Alien tongues, they have these little spines that extend through the body to reach all those spaces between the joints. Pretty gnarly injuries.”

“Right,” Sam nodded. “Changelings can drain them for a few weeks before mom finally croaks.”

“And then, there's dad and the babysitter,” Dean added, referencing two of the victims.

“Yeah. Seems like anyone who gets between the changeling and its food source ends up dead,” Sam finished.

“And fire’s the only way to kill ‘em,” you said, nodding at Dean’s torch. “See why I was worried about all this?”

“Yeah,” Dean huffed. “Great.”

“According to lore, they stash the kids underground somewhere,” Sam continued, “I don't know why, but if it's true, the real kids might be out there.”

“We better start looking,” Dean asserted, seeming to have something on his mind.

“What?” you asked.

He hesitated before answering you with a question. “Any kid in the neighborhood is vulnerable?”

You nodded.

“We gotta make a stop. I wanna check on someone,” Dean told you, and you knew he meant Ben.

Dean held your gaze as Sam began to protest. “Well Dean, if the real kids are still alive, we don't have time. We—”

“We have to,” Dean stated firmly. 

***

Throughout the drive to Lisa’s house, you tried your best to remain calm. You weren’t truly worried about the potential that Ben could’ve been kidnapped or by the fact that Dean was upset, it was the thought of Lisa and Ben potentially taking Dean away from you. You knew your fear was irrational and maybe even a bit toxic, but you still worried that maybe Dean was still attracted to Lisa. Or maybe Dean was Ben’s dad and would be obligated to see and spend time around the two of them. The thought nearly made you throw up while you watched Dean knock on Lisa’s door. 

You saw Lisa yelling at him, and Dean ran back over to the Impala seeming incredibly worried. “They took Ben. He's changed,” Dean explained, hurriedly getting into the car.

“What?! Are you sure?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, I'm sure. I checked his windowsill,” the older brother nodded.

“Blood?” 

“I don't think it is blood, and I think I know where the kids are.”

***

Dean drove quickly toward a house under construction with a large mound of red dirt sitting on the lawn outside of it. The exterior of the home was almost finished, and the “For Sale” sign on the lawn was stained partially by the dirt.

“Red dirt,” Sam noted, bending down to inspect the sign. “That's what was on the window.”

“Ah, you take the front,” Dean told Sam. “(Y/N), take the left side; I got the other.”

You nodded and set off, gun and flashlight drawn. You crept around the corners of the house until you came to a set of doors angled down to a cellar. You jumped down into it and found small, empty cages lining the walls.

“What do you think you're doing?” a voice suddenly asked from behind you. 

You looked up at the entrance of the cellar to see a redheaded woman glaring at you. 

“You’re staying here until I can get the police here,” the woman said, pulling out her phone.

“Wait, wait,” you tried. “I’m sorry, I was just looking for a place to stay for the night.”

“Then why do you have a gun?” she hissed.

“Self-defense,” you replied coolly. “Please, I’m sorry, I’ll go.”

The redhead tsked and shook her head. “I don’t think you will.” She stood from the entrance to the cellar and closed both doors on you.

“Wait, no!” You rushed toward the doors, but it was too late. She had latched them shut by the time you got to them. Immediately, you started banging on the doors and trying to get them open. You turned around to one of the cages and picked it up, hurling it at the closed doors. You tried again and again, using the cage to hit the door, your shoulder to slam into it, and even tried using a piece of wire from the cage to take off the hinges, but nothing worked. Helplessly, you banged on the door and screamed for Sam and Dean.

Suddenly, you began to smell smoke.

‘Oh, fuck,’ you thought, breath quickening with urgency. You slammed your body into the doors as hard as you could manage. 

Across the cellar from you, the flames began to catch the ceiling, creating a gaping hole in the floor for debris and fiery planks of wood to fall through. You slammed into the doors once more, screaming for Dean. 

The smoke in the room began to fill your lungs and forced a cough out of you. You screamed Dean’s name again hoarsely, turning around briefly to see the fire had spread incredibly close to you. If you didn’t get out soon, the whole building would collapse on your head.

“Dean, please!” you screamed. 

Suddenly, you heard the door to the cellar unlatching.

“(Y/N)?!”

“Dean!” you cried.

He threw the doors open and pulled you out of the smoldering building. He quickly checked you over for injuries, cupping the sides of your face. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Let’s go!” You grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him around to the front of the house, running as fast as your legs would carry you as flames taunted you dangerously close to your face. You ran across the street to where Sam was standing with a crowd of terrified children and Ben. 

“Sam!” you exclaimed. “Everybody okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I think so,” Sam replied. 

Ben seemed shaken up, but he was trying to comfort the other kids around him. You smiled down at him. Dean was exactly the same way. No matter what was going on in his own head, he always checked on the needs of others first. It was one of the things you loved most about him; he was always showing you what compassion truly looked like. 

***

When the fire department had come and the children— all except for one— had been returned home, you and the boys drove Ben back to Lisa’s house. 

“Ben?!” the woman called, running out of the house. “Baby, are you okay?”

Ben ran to his mom and hugged her. “I'm okay, Mom.”

“Oh, my god,” Lisa sobbed. “What the hell just happened?”

“I'll explain everything if you want me to,” Dean started, “but, trust me, you probably don't. The important thing is that Ben's safe.”

“Thank you,” Lisa surged forward and hugged Dean. “Thank you.”

Dean seemed hesitant for which you were thankful, but still returned her hug.

Ben turned to head into his house, and Lisa moved to follow. She turned back to Dean apprehensively. “Do you— wanna come inside?” she asked. 

“Uh, no thanks,” Dean replied. “We, uh, gotta hit the road.”

Lisa nodded, deflating slightly. 

“But… you’re a hundred-percent sure Ben’s not mine, right?” Dean asked. 

She nodded and smiled. “You're off the hook. I did a blood test when he was a baby.”

“Oh,” Dean replied. “Good.”

“I... I swear you look disappointed,” Lisa noted.

“Yeah, I don't know. It's weird, you know your life... I mean, this house and a kid…” he trailed off. “It's not my life. Never will be. Some stuff happened to me recently, and, uh... Anyway, a guy in my situation— you start to think, y’know. I'm gonna be gone one day, and what am I leaving behind besides a car?”

“I don't know. Ben may not be your kid, but,” Lisa began, “he wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you. That's a lot if you ask me.”

Dean nodded and turned back to you and his brother who stood by the car watching silently. “You know, just for the record…” He turned back to Lisa.  “You got a great kid. I would've been proud to be his dad.”

Lisa smiled at him, as did you, before Dean headed back to the driver’s seat. For once, Sam let you sit in the passenger’s seat, and you popped a Faith No More cassette into the Impala’s built-in player. 

***

A few hours into the drive, Sam had fallen asleep. You and Dean were left holding each other’s hand in silent support; a reassurance the other was there and okay. 

“Did you mean what you said earlier? To Lisa?” you murmured.

“About what?”

“Leaving nothing behind except a car?” you continued.

“Aw, c’mon—” Dean sighed. 

“No, Dean. That’s crap,” you quietly said. “You have a legacy. Everything you’ve ever done has been out of love and compassion. That is who you are. That’s what you’re leaving behind.”

Dean’s eyes flicked toward you, his expression unreadable. He was quite literally the only person to ever confuse your intuitive, watchful eye with his thoughtful, complicated expressions. 

The older Winchester turned his eyes back to the road and brought your entwined hands to his lips, kissing the backs of your knuckles. 

You reveled in the feeling, knowing the feeling of his lips on your skin in this moment, the pattern of Sam’s breathing steadily in the backseat, and the way his hand felt in yours would be a memory you’d need to hold onto when he was gone. Maybe that way, you’d be able to find peace; knowing that not even death could completely tear Dean away from you. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[jeonscatalyst]

https://www.tumblr.com/jeonscatalyst/762090606730379264/just-coming-back-to-say-that-the-best-trips?source=share

Jokers are really jokers for a reason. I wouldn't be so proud about company content where the things Jk said were probably scripted. He has gone on more private and more important trips with Tae and his friends so don't be delusional over paid company content which he was forced to do.

Awwww anon!

Are your feelings hurt? Are you angry because even though Jk has been to what according to you, are more private and more important trips with Tae and his friends he still thought the paid company content trips with Jimin were the best trips he’s been on in his life? Awwwww

So you mean to tell me that after the trip to the ski resort with Tae and his friends, after the trip to Hawaii where Jk flew 9-10 hours just to be with Tae because Tae missed him (lol) and all these too in their private time, Jk still thought the best trips he had been on not only in chapter two, or in a couple of years or that year, but in his entire life were the trips he went on with Jimin and multiple crew members? Wow!! Just how mediocre were his private trips with Tae for him to still choose the paid company content trips over their private trips anon?

If I were you, I wouldn’t ever open my mouth to mock any jikooker again in my life because I would be so damn hurt about the fact that I spent alot of time bragging about private trips and private dates only for Jk to come and completely destroy my fun bubble by stating that even though he had been on all those “private” trips with his “husband” the ones that did it for him were the ones with his “estranged coworker” whom he was forced to go on a trip with. I know it hurts anon, believe me, I know it hurts but take it up with Jk not jokers. We didn’t put a gun to Jk’s head and ask him to say what he said. He said it out of his own volition.

Btw, I thought Jk was just too honest? Just a few weeks ago you and your fellow cultists were busy blabbing about how honest and straightforward Jk was because he said he missed members or because he said the trip in Jeju was better because V was there. So those parts weren’t scripted but only the part where he talks about these trips being the best trips of his life were? Lmaooo.

Anon, I hope that every morning when you wake up, you see this as soon as you open your eyes…

You know what, lets add this too💀

I was going to leave at that but just because you are a piece of shit lets add this too….

Now run along…shoo shoo!

[uriekukistan]

thoughts on jjk 270, unfiltered for your reading pleasure

honestly the whole chapter feels like a disservice to megumi. i know i say that all the time, and maybe i'm just too jaded, maybe i'm wearing favorite character goggles idk, but as a whole i think this chapter was just. not good so if i wanna talk about it with regards to the Favorite Character, i will

my first thought seeing megumi at tsumiki's grave was that gege was gonna finally give a proper moment where he could grieve and reach some kind of closure, maybe get some of the overdue development he's earned. like to me there's nothing better than when the emotionally reserved character breaks down, and this would have been the perfect moment. i feel like so much of megumi's character has been built around his relationship to tsumiki, and the past 60 chapters-ish have been building up to this moment where megumi can properly grieve and maybe express some kind of remorse to tsumiki for being a bit of a brat when he was younger, but he never gets that. instead, we get this really stale and emotionless ending for their relationship, and for megumi's character as a whole. like idk, this whole time he's wanted to be able to apologize to tsumiki and make it up to her after everything she did for him, and he never even gets a moment to mourn. i hate that for him.

next. why am i getting more emotionally satisfying endings for side characters that i literally dgaf abt than for main characters like megumi, yuuta, gojo (i'll stand by the fact that i think he should have died, but like show people mourning him damn), nobara, YUUJI?????? idk like wtf is going on here. to me there is no reason to get a more satisfying ending for that middle school friend of yuuji's who was relevant for like two pages before i get a satisfying end for the literal deuteragonist of the story

then there's the whole thing w hana. i'm not even saything this from a shipping standpoint, but it's frustrating to me that megumi gets to reach some kind of peace w hana and have a good conversation with her before he talks to itadori, the person who's been by his side this whole time, the person who appreciates him for who he is and not their idealized version of him, the person who he decided to live for, the person who arguably means the most in his life right now. he doesn't get to exchange a serious heart to heart with him, but he gets to have a shallow surface level interaction with hana? idk i just feel like it reduces his character to something very superficial and i hate to see it.

and maybe i'm just dumb but i don't get like. any of these new plot points that have been introduced, but honestly, i don't care to understand. it seems like gege is in fact trying to set up a second part to jjk and im just so annoyed by that, because we get this rushed ending where nothing reaches proper fruition so he can introduce these new plots? like idk, somehow that pisses me off more than if he just fumbled the ending, but i hold that thought until we know for sure that he's making a second part.

this was supposed to be more general, but i got carried away w my thoughts abt how bad megumi's ending was fumbled. anyway. yeah canon doesn't exist to me past 268 :D

[mauvecherie-writes]

the kaleidoscope theory: l.hamilton.

• pairing: lewis hamilton x black!oc kalani halloway

• chapter warnings: none

• w.c: 3.8K

• ru’s 💌: First thing first, I want to apologise for how long it took to post this. With school and placement taking up a lot of my time, amongst other distractions and my mental health just not being the best for a while, writing has not been my main priority, and I am trying to make up for that now. Updates will be slow, but they won’t be non-existent. Please don’t forget to like, comment and re-blog.

• tip: kofi | paypal

series masterlist

CHAPTER ONE

PRESENT DAY

“ARE you sure that you want to keep doing this with him Lani? Like I love you and I’ll always be in your corner, but I have to agree with your therapist here. What are you gaining from continuing to sleep with Malik?”

The bluntness of the question almost knocked the wind out of Kalani’s lungs. Over the decades of their friendship, she had come to know that Julian did not pull any punches when it came to honesty. It should not have shocked her that her best friend would react like this to the revelation of such news. Maybe it was the exasperation and disappointment that she picked up in his tone that made Kalani want to shrivel into herself from shame.

“Lani!” His voice boomed through the car speaker, breaking her train of thought. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.” She mumbled as her hands tightened around the stirring wheel.

“Well, are you going to answer my question or not?”

“It was a moment of weakness okay!” She exclaimed, finally admitting it to herself and to her best friend. “There was always an excuse to get me alone. To discuss the divorce or something about the kids. And he’d just … he would charm me, and I would be reminded of why I fell in love with him in the first place then I’d give in.”

“Tuh.” Julian scoffed. “Talk of the divorce like he’s not trying to distract you from the fact that he has not signed those papers.” He added, the truth causing her shoulder to sag as she leaned back into her seat.

“I know.”

“Baby, I’m not trying to make you upset —.” He sighed, speaking in a much tender tone. But it was too late. The shame that had been brewing in her stomach for so long had bubbled back up her throat.

“I just need you to really think about this. It has been two years since you have asked for the divorce, Malik keeps stalling signing the papers, under the guise of trying to make it work. But we all know that he is still with that bitch. Like he can’t have his cake and eat it too. He doesn’t have any regard for who he’s hurting and that is you and the kids. I need you to be better than your weakness for him. It’s not fair.”

His words were hurtful to hear but Kalani could not argue against them because she knew that they were true. That is why she had decided to begin therapy. She had not slept with Malik in over six months since she had started her therapy session. This round, Kalani had finally shared the truth that she had on tinted with intimacy with her ex-husband despite the separation.

“I KNOW.” Kalani sniffed as her tears threatened to spill over. The tremble in her voice could not be hidden and Julian picked up on it.

“Lani, listen-.”

“Hey, so um — I gotta go. I need to pick up Princess from my aunt’s place.” Kalani quickly spoke out as she rounded the corner into a residential street. “Talk later.”

She did not wait for him to respond as she ended the phone call. Kalani took a deep breath as she put the car into an empty parking spot. She continued to sulk in her seat as the heaviness in her chest had returned. Everything that Julian had said to her were all things that she knew and had known from the first time, she had slept with him after they split.

Stuck in the moment, every time they had done the deed had felt good. In some way, it had felt like she had been reclaiming her power. It felt good to know that in some way, her ex still wanted her. In Kalani’s need to be desired by the man that she was married to for nearly twenty years, she had momentarily lost herself and had forgotten what was important.

The happiness of her children.

So Kalani took in a deep breath and exhaled, wiped away her tears and re-applied her lip gloss. She practised her smile in the rear-view mirror until she was satisfied with a more approachable facial expression. She got out of her car and fixed the legs of her pantsuit before she walked a short distance on the pathway and onto the property.

It did not take any time from her opening the small front gate for the front door to be opened.

“Mummy!” The excited shriek of her young daughter sounded through the air as her little feet carried her as fast as they could towards her. Kalani immediately dent down to her level and opened her arms, waiting for her daughter. She dived into her arms and Kalani could just feel all of that heaviness began to lift away from her heart. As her daughter squeezed her little around her neck, Kalani immediately felt better.

“Hi, my Princess!” She smiled at Tiara. Princess’s little giggles were what she got in response as she pulled back to look into her mother’s eyes.

“I missed you so much, Mummy.”

“I missed you too! Did you enjoy school and time with Auntie Angie?”

“Mhm!” Tiara nodded her head as she played with Kalani’s earrings. “Today, I learnt what a doing word is! And then Auntie Angie baked me a banana cake.”

“The cake is for all of you, not just you baby.” Aunt Angela spoke from behind Tiara which caused Kalani to chuckle as a frown appeared on her little girl’s face.

“Emi doesn’t like banana cake as much as I do!” Tiara exclaimed.

“I know baby. But can we at least save a piece for brother first?”

“Okay.” Her small voice of defeat made Kalani’s heart swoon. She cradled her daughter’s head to her chest as she walked towards the door where Angela had been standing with Tiara’s belongings and the wrapped up banana cake.

“Hi sweetie.” Angela had greeted her as she awkwardly hugged Kalani.

“Hi Auntie.” She replied. It was like she could feel the love outpouring from the embrace. And it took all of her strength to not break down then and there.

“You okay?” Angela asked her. Kalani softly nodded her head, not trusting her words in that moment. She took a deep breath before offering a smile of re-assurance.

“Just need my baby.” Kalani replied. “Thank you for looking after her today.”

“You never have to thank me for that. I love Princess and I love spending time with her.”

After a couple of more minutes of casual conversation, Kalani and Tiara said their goodbyes and then left her aunt’s home. On the journey to pick up Emil, she sang along to the current kid bops that Tiara was currently enjoying. Her daughter filled the car with chatter about what her day at school was and repeated stories of previous adventures. Kalani did not mind at all. Hearing her daughter talk was far more enjoyable than being left with the chaos that was her thoughts.

~

When they had arrived at the local sports and leisure centre, Kalani noticed that by the outdoor astroturf, there was a larger crowd than there should be for a practice on an early Wednesday evening . She walked hand in hand with Tiara towards the grounds and smiled when she noticed the crowds full of young and old cheering on.

No matter how much Emil had tried to teach her, there were still aspects of the game of football that she would never understand. However, that never changed how much Kalani cheered on Emil and supported him. She knew that he had fallen in love with football due to Malik’s love for the sport, his passion came from within, and Emil had the talent to match. If Emil was willing to play, then Kalani was going to do everything that she could to make sure that he continued to play to his greatest heights.

From where Kalani stood, she could tell that it was an intense game for a practise but neither the Red nor Green sides seemed to care. When Emil touched the ball, he sprinted across the field with incredible of the ball and passing by the red players who were trying to defend. Emil then passed the ball to another green player who was open. This player then quickly shot the ball into the net, scoring the winning goal.

The crowd, including Kalani and Tiara cheered for the green shirts.

The game came to an end and with the crowds beginning to disperse, Tiara shot away from Kalani’s side and ran towards his older brother as she screamed his name. She smiled as she watched Emil pick up his little sister and throw her into the air, catch her and then spin her around.

As she proudly watched the moment, she caught a growing crowd from the corner of her eye. She noticed a man standing in the middle with the biggest smile on his face as he tried to greet every one that was surrounding him. That bright smile with the small tooth gap was the first thing that caught her attention. His twisted strands were in a ponytail, but his sides and beard were nicely trimmed in a way that brought attention to his chiselled facial features. Kalani’s eyes travelled to his large and muscular tatted arms that even with his bronzed, umber complexion, the design of the tattooed sleeves stood out. He was dressed simply, in a black, sleeveless knitted vest and what looked like black trousers. Kalani had spent too much time staring at him for her to notice that his jewellery was expensive and some of it was probably custom made.

As if picking up on her inquisitive eyes, the man looked up and stared right at her. She had never seen such an intense yet sincere pair of eyes that were the smoothest of chocolate brown. Kalani bit her lip in embarrassment at being caught looking when he smiled at her. She quickly averted her gaze to her children, who were walking towards her and tried not to think about why the stranger felt vaguely familiar.

“Hi Mum.” Emil greeted her as he placed Tiara down on her feet before reaching towards her and giving her a sideways hug. Kalani reciprocated the hg and patted his sweat drenched curls.

“Hi baby, you were great out there.” She complimented him which caused him to grin.

“Thank you.” He smiled at her.

“Any particular reason why you guys were playing like it was the finals of the Premier League?”

“Oh! The owner of the centre is here, and we just wanted to impress him I guess.”

“You were out there acting like he’s like a talent scout.” Kalani chuckled.

“He might as well be. He used to be a sportsperson, so he knows a lot of people.”

“Like Mbappa right?”

“Mbappé, Mum. Mbappé.” Emil corrected her with a roll to his eyes.

“Well, whatever his name is.” Kalani shrugged her shoulders and then picked Tiara into her arms. “Anyway, go get your stuff. We need to be home before 8:30.”

For a fraction of a moment, she saw her son’s gleeful demeanour slip. He nodded his head and then jogged away. Kalani watched as he stopped and talked to the same man that she had made eye contact with. The joy in his face was back once more and it eased the tension within her. She was sending them to their fathers’ for the weekend as she needed some time to herself to re-charge before she embarked on a large project at work.

However, Emil had made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with the man that he had once idolised. Emil confessed to enduring the visit for the sake of Tiara, who was still trying to adjust to the separation.

When he came back, they all hurdled into the car and they drove back home, not before stopping for a takeaway pizza collection.

After they had arrived back at their home, Kalani rushed her children to take their evening showers before preparing their bags.

Kalani stayed downstairs as she prepared their dinner. Alongside the pizza, she made a simple arugula salad with cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and a balsamic dressing. Once she had set the table and could finally take a sip of her white wine.

She dreaded the weekends when her children were away. Because it forced her to think. It forced her evaluate every single decision that led to this very moment that she was currently residing in.

Her hatred for Malik increased.

Memories of their past floated in front of her. Her and Malik dancing around the kitchen as they cooked whilst Emil set the kitchen table and Tiara narrating stories from her vivid imagination.

They were so happy.

They were so in love.

Where in the fuck did he ever find the time to cheat on her? She wondered.

That was a question that she never got an answer to. And it was a question, she was afraid of what the answer may be. It just was not something that she was ready to confront. Kalani was left to deal with all of that harbouring anger all alone.

“Mummy look! Me and Emi are matching!” Tiara rushed rushed down the stairs with Emil in tow. When Kalani turned her head towards their direction, a laughter full of elation burst from her when she noted that the duo were indeed matching. Tiara was dressed in a hot pink Nike tracksuit that was a contrast to Emil’s grey one.

“She wasn’t going to wear anything else.” Emil commented as they entered the large kitchen area, approaching the sink to wash their hands.

“That’s okay. Princess just wants to be like her big brother huh.” Kalani smiled as she smoothed her daughter’s hair.

“Yep!” Tiara gave them her dazzling smile. “Except, I don’t like football, and he doesn’t like banana cake!” The little girl stated before her focus shifted to the slices of banana cake on the table. “Ooouuu caaaakkee.”

“Not so fast, young lady!” Kalani spoke up which stopped Tiara in her tracks. “Can you eat some pizza first before the cake?”

“Okay, Mummy.” She pouted as she moved to sit down in her chair by the table. Emil shook his his head as he plated a slice of pizza for himself before sitting down.

They sat in silence as they ate their food, but Kalani could tell from her son’s solemn expression that something was bothering him.

“You okay baby?” She asked him as a worried expression marked her face.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He offered her a smile that she didn’t believe.

“You sure? You know that you can always talk to me, right?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just -.” Emil stopped talking before he let out a sigh. He then turned his attention to Tiara who was focused on trying to do a cheese pull. “I’m not ready to talk about it.” He concluded.

Kalani swallowed as she tried to not be disappointed with his response. Outside of the pure anger that was palpable whenever his father was mentioned, Emil had concealed his emotions about the divorce from her, always giving her that same answer of not being ready to talk. She had offered for him to go to therapy but he refused, saying that he did not need it.

“I caught him cheating Mum, not killing somebody.” He had said to her after the therapy suggestion. She dropped it then, however as her sessions continued, the more she wanted to push for Emil to go. But she was not going to force his hand. He’d go when he was ready.

“How’s this? When you come back, I’ll take the day off work and break you out of school and we do whatever you want. Just the two of us.”

“I’d like that.” Emil replied as a small smile returned to his face. Kalani reached over and softly pinched his cheek.

“That’s my boy.” She wicked at him.

They finished dinner in a much better mood with Emil updating her on his coming football schedule so that she could make time for it in her diary. And it wasn’t long after they had cleared the table did the doorbell ring.

Kalani glanced over to the clock on the wall. It was 8:40pm.

A cloud of tension suddenly covered the serenity of their home as she realised who was at the front door. Kalani looked at her son, who was already moving to collect Tiara from her position in her play area by the living room.

“Give me five minutes, I need to talk to your father about something.” She said to him. Emil nodded his head.

“Princess come on, gotta make sure that you have all of your toys ready.” He said before picking her up and giving her a piggy-back ride up the stairs which caused her to squeal with each step.

Kalani mentally prepared herself as she dried her hands with a hand towel before she headed to the door.

With one more pep talk, she swung the door open and met her ex-husband with a close-lipped smile with her body blocking the entrance.

Standing shy of 6 foot 2 inches with a rich, tawny complexion, a shaved head and trimmed goatee – Malik was a physically handsome man. At forty-three, he kept himself fit, had an impeccable wardrobe (that she introduced him to) and a gorgeous smile that her daughter inherited. Full lips with slick words that could charm the pants off a recluse. She would know, they’d been working on her for close to two decades.

“Hi Lani.” He smiled down at her.

“Hi Malik.” Her tone was curt, which caused his cheeky expression to slip by minor fraction, but she caught it.

“How are you?” He asked. “You look beautiful as ever.” He complimented her, trying to work his charm as he had done so many times before.

It wasn’t going to work this time.

“Thanks.” She narrowed her eyes before she moved to step outside. She drew the door close and left it slightly agar.

“I need to talk to talk to you about something.”

“Are the kids okay?” He worried.

“They’re as fine as they can be. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

“Then what?”

“When are you going to sign the papers, Malik? You’ve been putting them off for far too long now.”

“What do you mean sign?” He frowned in confusion. “I thought that we were taking this time to figure things out.”

“What things?!” Kalani sternly exclaimed in a hushed voice. “You refused couple’s counselling. Emil doesn’t want therapy and wont talk to me about it. Tiara thinks you’re working on a big project at work because she doesn’t understand that we’re separated.” As the words spat out of her mouth, the angrier she became. “Let’s not fucking forget, that little girlfriend of yours is still around and you thought that I didn’t know about it.”

“She’s not Kalani!” Malik quickly tried to shut down her accusation.

“Oh please!” She scoffed as she looked at him up and down in disgust. “Her perfume is lingering on you right now. I should know, I was washing it off for years!” She hissed.

Kalani watched as Malik tried to sniff his clothes and that disgusted her even more as she could see the gears in his mind churning up an excuse.

“Listen, it’s not like that.” He began to say.

“I don’t give a shit what it’s like. I want those divorce paper signed and delivered to my office by Monday. If not then no more nice Kalani, I’ve put up with your shit for too long.”

Without giving Malik a chance to reply, she opened the door just as she picked up on the patter of feet rushing down the stairs. Tiara zoomed past her and dove into her father’s legs, hugging them.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” She chanted, bouncing with excitement. Malik picked her up into his arms and gave him one of his practised smiles as he peppered her face with kisses.

“My gorgeous girl! You’re getting so big!” He said which caused Tiara to grin.

“Look! My tooth fell out and the tooth fairy gave me one pound and Mummy told me to add it to my piggy bank!”

“Oh, that’s so awesome Princess!”

“When all my teeth fall out, I’m gonna be rich!”

“Oh, I bet!” Malik tickled her sides which caused another high-pitched squeal to leave Tiara. In all of her rage, it was the joy of her daughter that mattered to her. Emil trotted to her side, holding their weekend bags.

“You got everything baby?” She asked him. He nodded his head.

She hated having to send him with his father, but she did not trust Malik to care for Tiara without Emil’s assistance. She brought in her son for a tight hug and kissed the side of his head. “It’s just two days and you’ll be back.”

Emil sighed at those words before nodding his head. “Bye Mum.” He mumbled before he kissed her cheek and walked past Malik without acknowledging him. She could see that Malik was trying to not let that get to him but kept a brave face for Tiara. It may be horrible to admit but it felt nice to know that there was one more person who hated his guts the way she did.

‘Right, Princess, you’re going to be on our best behaviour for your father, okay?” Kalani said to Tiara.

“Mhm.” Tiara nodded her head before Kalani placed a kiss on her forehead.

“We’ll talk about what we talked about later.” Malik glared at her.

“Unless it’s about that signature, then we have nothing to talk about.” She glared back.

Kalani waved goodbye to her children as Malik drove away. Once she shut her front door, she let out the biggest sigh of relief as her body relaxed. She had not realised just how tense she had been in the minutes Malik was here.

It had felt like hours.

With her body on autopilot, Kalani finished cleaning up the kitchen and packing away Tiara’s toys before she grabbed her bottles of wine, forgoing the glass and dragged her body up the stairs to her bedroom. As she prepared for her evening bath, she put her favourite playlist on and danced to the music as she stripped down to her bathing suit.

Once her tub was full of hot water and bubbles, she sank down, laying down her head on the towel. She took a large gulp of her wine and get the bottle down.

With only the sultry voice of Sadé as solace, Kalani let her walls down and cried to her hearts content.

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @laneywrld @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @perfecttrashface @alianovnaromanovanatalia @leilaxaliel @hotfudgeslug @iamryanl @pickingupmymercedes @eleetalks @ambs-06 @annisassintchaska @boujiestpoet @nayaesworld @nat-lh-44