#graduation gift card box

[the-trans-dragon]

.

[chestharrington]

Girls On Film || Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve's absentee parents gift him a camcorder for graduation. What better way to find out how it works than making a sex tape?

Couple: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Content Warnings: explicit smut (f!receiving oral, handjob, p in v sex ft. girl on top), sex on camera, filming a sex tape, lovey-dovey adorable dorks in love

Word Count: 3.7k

Your heart soared with pride as Steve walked off the football field towards you, wearing a goofy-looking gown and graduation cap. As soon as he reached you, he lifted you up and gave you a tiny spin, smiling ear to ear. 

“You’re looking at a college grad,” he said with a smug smile after he put you down. You beamed at him as he lifted his hand and showed off the shiny gold class ring. “I’m never taking this thing off.”

You grinned, tugging at the graduation gown. “What about this thing? You willing to take this off for me?” You smiled wryly and pressed a kiss on his cheek. 

A throat cleared behind you both and you turned, looking at the party and Robin standing with various levels of disgust evident on their faces. 

Robin wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Keep it in your pants, please. Or, I guess keep it in your large, nylon zippy robe.” She squeezed between you and kissed Steve on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Steve.”

Dustin stepped forward next and gave Steve a big hug— he’d hit a growth spurt since you last saw him and was nearly as tall as Steve. Lucas, Will, and Mike all offered their congratulations combined with complaints about how boring the ceremony was after they got through the H last names. 

Max crossed her arms as El wheeled her over, trying her best to be nonchalant. “I can’t see you, but I know you look dumb in that stupid hat.” Steve gave a fake laugh, took the hat from his head, and placed it on hers. “Ew, it’s all sweaty, you jerk.” She smiled despite herself and held the hat against her chest.

Steve wrinkled his nose in a way that told you he was trying his best not to cry. You knew it meant a lot to him that they’d shown up. 

“Why don’t we all go for lunch?” You suggested. “My treat.” Not wanting the reunion to end, and not wanting to turn down a free lunch, everyone piled into their cars and headed to Steve’s favorite place.

When you and Steve got into his car, you were greeted by the shrill sound of his car phone ringing. With a furrowed brow, he reached over and retrieved the bulky device from its bag and answered. Even from across the car, you could hear the tinny noise of his mother speaking on the phone. 

“Yeah, the ceremony is over,” he said, jaw ticking. “I sent you both the invitation two months ago.” He looked over with an exasperated look, so you grabbed his hand to give a comforting squeeze. “Well, we’re all going to lunch if you can make it.”

You frowned, but didn’t say anything. Despite their apparent lack of care, you knew that he valued their approval and time.

“Oh. Right, I understand.” He sighed deeply. “Well, I appreciate it. Okay. Okay, bye.”

He hung up and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They, uh, they got double booked. They’re in Buffalo for a conference right now.”

Your gaze softened at the sight of his disappointed expression. “I know they’re proud of you, Steve.” He nodded, but didn’t look entirely convinced. You pulled the hand intertwined with yours up and placed a soft kiss on his knuckles.

————

When you arrived at your shared condo, you were greeted by a gift-wrapped box on the porch. You had to help him carry it in through the door, huffing as you both dropped it onto your coffee table. 

Steve shrugged off the graduation gown he was wearing and kneeled to unwrap the present. A large card taped to the top revealed the senders, as if that were in question. 

“To our firstborn son— congratulations! Love, Mr and Mrs Harrington.” The emotionless text almost made you grimace. You’d never read something more blatantly written by a personal assistant in your life. 

“Jesus,” he muttered as he tore away the wrapping to reveal the gift. “This thing must’ve cost a fortune.” You glanced over as he held up a plastic case and found nothing that might have revealed its contents. 

“What is it?” You asked, kneeling down beside him and leaning in close. He popped open the case and held up a hulking piece of machinery. 

“It’s a camcorder,” he said with a grin. “It’s the best one on the market.”

You raised your eyebrows and tried not to ask what he even needed one of those for. Video cameras were for new parents and aspiring filmmakers, not college grads.

Your own gift felt tiny in comparison, even though you’d been saving for a few months to afford it. Between rent for you and Steve’s condo, groceries, and gas for your cars, it wasn’t easy to have expendable cash to buy nice gifts with. 

You stayed quiet as Steve marveled at the fancy gift, holding it up to his face like he was testing how it looked through the viewfinder. 

“Gorgeous,” he said, peeking out at you. “I think I found my muse.” You scoffed and covered the camera with your hand even though it wasn’t charged. 

“Plug it in and we’ll see how it works later,” you said. “For now… I have a gift for you.”

He sat up, wearing a grin. “Is it lingerie? Is it dinner at The Olive Garden? Is it a bubble bath?” He leaned in and nipped at your jaw teasingly. “C’mon, tell me—“

You giggled as he pinned you down on the rug, peppering kisses on your cheeks. “Steveeee,” you groaned. He finally stopped, hovering over you. “You’re such a spoiled brat.” That made him grin even more. He pecked your lips chastely, then sat back on his knees. 

You scrambled to stand up and grinned. “Stay there, alright?” He nodded and you disappeared into your shared bedroom. 

Hidden away in your bedside table was a glass trinket box you’d thrifted a few months ago. It was shaped like a heart, with little gold foil embellishments. You couldn’t leave without it. You knew the real gift was inside, but you still hoped that Steve would like the box. 

Steve was fiddling with the camera when you stepped back into the living room, trying his best to plug it in to charge. When he saw you, though, he smiled and sat down on the couch, waiting for you to join him. 

“It isn’t much,” you insisted as you handed it over. “I hope you like it though.”

He smiled and nudged your cheek with his nose. “Are you joking? This is adorable. I love it. I’m gonna keep all my important stuff in here.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Babe, open it.” He looked sheepish as he lifted the lid, then his expression softened. You watched with a fluttering in your chest as he lifted the chain from the box.

It took months to save up for real gold, and then for the pendants after. Two initials— his and yours. “If you don’t like it, I can take it back and get something you actually w—“ 

 He cut you off with a quick kiss that made your head spin. “It’s perfect. Best gift I’ve ever gotten, hands down. And one year I got Yankees tickets behind the plate for my birthday.” He was quick to put it on, smiling over at you. “How do I look?”

You pecked his cheek. “A million bucks, babe.” He leaned in and gave you a real kiss— deep and intense. You smiled against his lips and melted into his touch. You’d never loved someone the way you loved him. 

“Wanna know what’s crazy?” He said after he pulled away. You nodded and he gestured towards the bedroom. “I bought you something too. Stay here.”

You sat patiently as he got up and hurried into the bedroom. You heard scuffling and the sounds of moving drawers until he returned, holding a wooden box. 

“Your gift is inside this, by the way,” he teased as he sat back beside you. You watched him with anticipation until he flipped it open and your heart stopped. 

“So, uh, I got you jewelry too,” he said softly, or maybe your ears were just ringing. 

Inside the box, nestled in the middle of a tiny silk pillow, was a diamond ring. 

Like, a diamond ring. The kind you get married with. 

“That’s—“

He nodded. “Yeah, it is,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “Will you marry me?”

In lieu of a verbal response, you put the ring on and kissed him like he was your one and only source of oxygen. It felt like it anyway— that if you parted from him even a little you’d cease to exist. 

“Yes?” He asked, smiling nervously. “That’s a yes?”

You kissed him again. “It’s a yes, Steve. I wanna marry you.”

———

Steve forgot about the video camera in the excitement of the engagement. Because he had to call Robin’s hotel and let her know, and then she spilled the news to the party, and suddenly it felt like everyone from Hawkins was in the tiny condo. 

After hours and hours of catching up and celebrating the day, you and Steve were left alone in a quiet house. 

“So… the future Mrs. Steve Harrington…” you turned and rolled your eyes at the sight of Steve holding the video camera that had been charging all night. “Anything you want to say to the camera on the night of our engagement?”

“How do you know I’m not keeping my last name?” You asked as he got closer, putting the lens right in your face. You giggled and ducked out of the way as the lens came close to knocking against your nose. “You’re such a child.”

He grinned. “Alright, give me something to remember this night by. For posterity, baby.”

You smiled wickedly at him before lifting the hem of your shirt, flashing your tits at him and the camera. By the time you lowered your shirt back down, his mouth was ajar. “We are never showing anyone this video now.”

You grinned. “Nuh-uh, baby, this is all for you.” You raised your brows in a challenge and stepped into the bedroom, leaving him to hurry behind you with the clunky machine. 

He stood in the doorway, camera focused on you as you slipped off your blouse and skirt. The whirring of machinery inside the camera indicated he was zooming in on your tits. You stifled a laugh at the noise as he zoomed out again, taking in all of you.

“Strip for me,” he directed behind the camera. You gave a wry grin as your thumbs slipped behind the waistband of your panties and dragged them down your legs slowly. “Fuck, you’re so sexy. Gonna put on a show for me?”

You settled on the bed on all fours, back arched as you crawled towards the headboard. Steve groaned at the sight, breath shuddering as you flipped around and spread your legs for him. Without needing instructions, you slipped one hand between your legs and let the other move to your chest, kneading your breast between your fingers. 

He moved from the doorway— the magnetic pull of you too much to resist for long. He settled at the end of the bed, the camera so close it made butterflies swell in your tummy. He moved the camera to your hands, one between your legs, teasing your clit and dipping into the pool of arousal at your center, and the other toying with your nipples, the shiny diamond on the engagement ring glinting with each small movement. 

“Christ, baby hold the camera—“ he said suddenly, passing it over to you. You laughed as he practically threw it into your hands and you had to scramble to turn it right side up. 

You laughed as he tore off his clothes, probably popping some buttons here and there. “Steve, what are you— oh!” 

Without hesitation, Steve buried his head between your thighs, moaning at the taste of your juices as he lapped at your pussy. It was a struggle to film him and enjoy the moment, especially since you had to watch him through the viewfinder. But something about capturing something so intimate on film made a thrill run through you. 

“Fuck, Steve—“ you moaned, being more vocal than you normally would for the camera. Fuck the neighbors, honestly. It was your engagement night! “Your mouth feels so good, honey.” 

His brown eyes peered up at you, at the camera, framed by pretty long lashes. His lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked lightly, making your legs tremble. Your free hand moved to his hair, tangling in the soft locks as his mouth elicited gasps and moans. 

A slick sheen had formed on the tip of his nose, his mouth, and chin from his ministrations. The sight made heat bloom in the pit of your stomach. His eyes fluttered closed as he lost himself in you— relishing in your sounds, your smell, your taste. 

A light pat on your thigh was his wordless signal for you to move and accommodate him more. You acquiesced, spreading your legs as much as you were comfortably able to, and he let his fingertips tease at your center. 

“Relax for me, baby,” he said, his words vibrating against your clit. He gave the bundle of nerves a light kiss before he looked up at you. “I’ve got you. Just…” He pushed his middle finger into you and you moaned low in your throat, instinctively pushing back against the intrusion. “That’s it. Just like that.”

He was always so gentle with you during foreplay— taking his time to really explore every single spot that he knew made you tick. You shuddered as the pad of his finger pressed against a particularly sensitive spot within you. He knew you like the back of his hand— probably better. He slid a second finger beside the first, coaxing moans and gasps from you as he gave all his attention to your clit and g-spot.

Your thighs trembled as you fought the instinct to close them around his head, the stimulation bordering on too much. The softness of his mouth on you, the press of his fingers against the most sensitive spot inside— making you cum was simply too easy for him. You barely had time to gasp out a breathy “I’m cumming—“ before your orgasm hit you. Your walls gripped his fingers like a vise as he worked you through it, muttering praise against your cunt before he withdrew his fingers completely. 

You stared at the ceiling, trying to find your breath. “C’mere. It's your turn,” you said with a grin. 

Steve simply shook his head. “Not done.” He moved his mouth back to your cunt, this time without the hungry ferocity. You sighed at the sensation, your legs twitching when the tip of his tongue brushed against your clit. His movements lost purpose with each pass of his tongue until he was practically making out with your pussy.

Your head fell back against the pillows, soft gasps slipping past your lips. Steve moaned against you as you tugged his hair, a furrow forming between his brows. So utterly lost in you that he hadn’t even noticed that he was rutting against the bed for friction. 

“C’mere,” you said softly. He pressed a final, wet kiss to your pussy before resting his head on the plush of your thigh. Your stomach flipped as he licked his lips, chasing those last remnants of your taste. He pressed a soft kiss to your belly before crawling up to meet you.

The kiss you shared was hungry and slow. The camera was shoved to the side so you could put your mouth on his— tongues meeting, the tang of your arousal and his spit flooding your senses. 

A low moan escaped his lips as your hand snaked between your two bodies, where you took his length into your hand and stroked slowly. His mouth fell open, a small furrow between his brows. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. You smiled up at him innocently and let your thumb glide across his tip. A full-body shiver overtook him, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. Steve was easy to love all the time, but especially when he was needy. “Switch spots with me.” When you furrowed your brows he nodded towards the camera. “Please?”

When he sat back on his heels, you moved from beneath him and let him settle with his back against the pillows. You were slightly annoyed that he had control of the camera, because goddamn. His thighs were bowed out slightly, cock resting against his stomach. The sight made your heart hammer as you straddled his thighs.

Steve took the camera back into his hands, a wide smile on his face. “Alright, just do what you were doing,” he instructed. “Left hand though.”

You glanced down at your hand and smiled softly. The engagement ring— your engagement ring— glinted up at you. You spit onto your hand and Steve groaned at the sight. 

“Haven’t even touched you yet,” you teased.

“Don’t let me stop you.” His voice wavered, revealing just how needy he really was.

He cried out the moment your hand wrapped around his length, head tossed back against the headboard. His cock pulsed in your hand as it glided up and down, aching for more. You leaned down, spitting onto his tip, giving you more slickness to work with. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his chest heaving. You moved your right hand to his balls, kneading them as you focused your attention on the head. “Jesus, look at that fuckin’ rock, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled wryly. “That’s what you’re thinking about? Not— y’know— the handjob to end all handjobs?” To prove your point, you twisted your hand and let your thumb glide over his slit. He practically whimpered, bucking into your grip. 

You redoubled your efforts, relishing in each desperate, whiny noise you were able to elicit. He was getting close— you could feel it in the way he throbbed in your hand, and hear it in the desperate pants and moans passing his lips. Before he could finish, you slowed your pace and let him come back from the edge. 

He sat there, arm slung over his eyes, just catching his breath. “Earth to Steve?” You teased, placing a kiss on his tummy. He made a low noise in the back of his throat and took another deep breath. 

“Okay, I’m good,” he said, a breathy laugh escaping his lips as he finally lowered his arm and looked at you. “Just needed a minute so I didn’t—“ You giggled as he mimed an explosion, completely unabashed about the effect you had on him. 

He grabbed the camera and placed it on the bedside table, doing his best to angle it just right. “Alright… wanna take a ride on the Harrington Express?” He patted his thighs with a smug expression and you groaned in annoyance. 

“Steve.”

“Fine. I’ll be so cool. I’ll be totally normal. But just know… you’re marrying a loser.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly as you straddled his thighs. “I wouldn’t have it any other way… most of the time.”

He stared up at you like you hung the moon, all doe eyes and heart-shaped pupils. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, tender and slow, and you hummed contentedly at the feeling. 

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips. He moved one of your hands from his shoulder and down to his chest, where his heart thumped steadily. For you.

Your own heart lurched in your chest as a swell of emotions overtook you. “I love you too, Steve.”

You reached between the two of you, taking his cock into your hand so you could position him at your entrance. You breathed slowly through your nose as you sank down— the prep and attention he had given you made the stretch comfortable and bearable, so all you felt was the pleasurable full feeling that he gave you.

Once you were fully seated, you gave an experimental roll of your hips. A moan escaped you at the feeling— as each tiny movement made delicious electricity run along your nerves. 

He sat up fully, his chest pressing against yours, holding you firmly against him. “That’s it, baby,” he groaned, cutting himself off to plant wet kisses along your jaw and throat. “Feels so good. Love the way your pussy feels around me.”

He cried out as you began to ride him in earnest, not caring how thin the walls of the condo were. His hands gripped onto your hips and dimpled the plush skin there as he began to meet your thrusts with his own. With each movement, you could feel him getting deeper until you could practically feel him in your guts. 

“Steve,” you gasped out, meeting his gaze as he fucked up into you. The sound of his name seemed to spur him on.

“Say it again,” he demanded. “Touch yourself while you do,”

You whimpered at the tone of his voice, snaking a hand between your bodies to toy with your clit. Your limbs felt like jelly as he continued to fuck the life and brains out of you. “St-Steve, fuck, baby,” you cried between the hiccup-y sobs of pleasure that were punched from your lungs.

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. Not gonna last like this.”

“Don’t,” you managed. “Cum for me. With me.” You leaned in and kissed him in a way that felt like more saliva than lips. 

When you pulled back, he nodded, forehead pressed against yours as you both worked each other over the edge. Your vision was spotted with pinpricks of light while he worked you through it, his moans distant in your ears. 

You were both panting, nearly tacked together with sweat as you came down. You chuckled lightly as you tilted your head to look at him. “That was one hell of a celebration.” He intertwined your fingers and placed a kiss on your ring finger. 

“And we have the rest of our lives to do it again, and again, and again, and ag—“ 

You shut him up with a kiss. You figure that for the rest of your lives, that’s always going to work. 

It does.

[aquasoftware]

His baby. ⪩✿⪨

No warnings just Nanami being a dad (fluff) + ML.

Girldad!Kento, who pulls the classic "Go ask your mother." When his daughter wants something but eventually gives in, shaking his head with a slight smile once she brings out the big doe eyes and pleading combo. "I'll see what I can do." He says as he acknowledges her request.

Girldad!Kento, who supports his daughter's little dreams and gives her wads of cash to start her snack business at school, then once she quickly sells out, she finds hidden colorful sticky notes at the bottom in her big tote bag telling her how proud he is.

Girldad!Kento, who teaches his daughter how to save money when he finds out she spent most of her earnings on Doordash and Roblox.

Girldad!Kento, who covers his red face in embarrassment when his daughter dolls him up for a tea party, wearing a comically large powder pink tutu paired with a plastic silver crown as she records tik-toks forcing his two left feet to dance.

Girldad!Kento, who proudly wears his daughter's homemade bracelets that she made from a gifted hobby lobby bracelet kit to work anytime he gets handed a new one, not at all caring about the idiotic snickers he gets from his co-workers. Kento's favorite bracelet that he'll forever keep safe is one that has lettered black and white charms saying "Best dad."

Girldad!Kento, who never gets tired of the crafted macaroni gifts, whether it's on a card for his birthday, a picture frame for Christmas, or a macaroni necklace for Father's Day to him, it's always the thought that counts.

Girldad!Kento, who gets spoiled by his wife and his daughter, receiving two packed lunches for work. He was intensely observant of his daughter's latest interest, which this time became those junior cooking shows eager to try out a new recipe. Yet although it wasn't the best tasting food in the world, he still scarfed down his daughter's cooking as if it were his last meal.

Girldad!Kento, who awakens to the horrified cries of his precious child, begging "Papa, there's a monster in my room; can I sleep with you and mama tonight...?" He couldn't deny that, swiftly enough you both accepted her with open arms in your shared bed.

Girldad!Kento, who encourages his child to do a sport, feeling his heart melt as his little girl picks ballet.

Girldad!Kento, who spam calls you while you're at work so you can guide him through doing makeup for her ballet recitals. "That's the last step? Okay, I promise I'll get some videos for you, honey!" He reassures you, understanding that you don't want to miss a moment.

Girldad!Kento, who humiliates his poor daughter at the recital jumping up and screaming "That's my baby!"

Girldad!Kento, who never misses a PTA meeting or a parent-teacher conference meeting.

Girldad!Kento, who knew no amount of pep talks from you could prepare him for his baby getting her first period, halfway panicking in Walgreens, snatching up every sanitary napkin possible as soon as he got the text, picking her up from school early due to how bad it got getting her favorite comfort food to cheer her up afterwards.

Girldad!Kento, whose heart absolutely shattered hearing the sentence "Papa, I'm way too old for dolls now." What did she mean she was ready to give up Monster High and Barbie's? The saddened blonde refused to let his baby grow up even though he knew he had to.

Girldad!Kento, who almost sheds a tear when he finds out other cruel kids have been picking on her, calling her ugly, so instead of a typical lecture, he gave a warm embrace reminding her how beautiful she is.

Girldad!Kento, who will sob his eyes out at every single graduation, including elementary, middle, high-school, and soon eventually college, needing at least five boxes of tissues to himself at her middle school graduation, not even being able to fathom how he'd handle her high school graduation.

Girldad!Kento, who loves his daughter unconditionally.

8/28/24 11:59pm

[dejwrldarchived]

⤷‧₊˚ hiromi higuruma helps his bratty sub study for her bar exam.

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — black reader with descriptors, female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, usage of y/n, reader is a law student, mentions of reader being the child of a judge, mentions of law, dom!hiromi, sub!reader, reader described to be very feminine and bratty, no cursed au, dom x sub dynamic, usage of toys (vibrating panties), oral (reader receiving), pet names (good girl, doll), mentions of pubes, praise kink (academical), bonus after care scene, written in third pov (hiromi’s), mdni

sticky note from deja — sometimes i think about dom hiromi higuruma and just sigh happily.

Hiromi passed his bar exam with flying colors. He didn’t do study groups. Simply studied alone and prioritized his time to balance being a law clerk, studying, and socializing to ensure a law firm hired him. But this woman didn’t do any of that and frankly, he was even shocked that she still wanted to pursue law at all. She graduated from law school with a high GPA, and wonderful recommendations from amazing professors, and her father was a prominent judge. Many can assume that her pretty looks and her legacy surname got her where she is today, but Hiromi has observed her in her element and when she was in her element she was a beast. 

So the older lawyer had no clue why she came to him with law books in her arm, her tote bag slung on her shoulders—tight coils sprawled on her head like a crown, and a tight suede tracksuit on as if she was stepping into her law class. But of course, when she had a problem, she came to him. When she needed a quick nut, she came to him. Needing someone to vent about when it came to her class rival, she came to him. Now it seemed she needed help studying for the exam and who did she come to, him.

But as an hour and thirty minutes went by, the young woman was not soaking up the information that Hiromi was going over. His eyes bored into the notebook, flashcards, and textbooks scattered across his desk. She watches as she twirls her pink pen around her fingers reading over the notes she jolted down, but he can just tell by the crinkle of her eyebrows that the information wasn’t going through that thick skull of hers. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe she knew the information because she did. But he doubted she’d remember it for the exam. He leaned back into his comfortable black desk chair trying to rack his brain with a better studying technique before eventually he got an idea. An imaginary light bulb lit up over the top of the lawyer’s head.

“I think I have an idea.” He spoke out, causing her to stop her highlighting—which he was hoping she would do because the scent of the highlighter was already giving him a headache simply because she just had to have scented ones. 

This one smells like strawberries, smell it? Those were her exact words forty-five minutes ago as he was going over some laws on family laws. 

“Will it help me feel like the information I’m consuming is sticking and staying in my brain?” 

“Possibly,” was the only thing Hiromi answered before pulling himself out of his seat and disappearing from his office.

It was three things the woman that sat across from him enjoyed. Shopping, her father’s credit card, and sexual pleasure. If Hiromi had any more knowledge of psychology, he would have labeled Y/N as a nymphomaniac. 

When returned with the red velvet box, he sat the box on the table and she perked up happily, possibly thinking that this was a sparkly diamond necklace for her. 

“A gift? Aw, this definitely will help.” Her plush glossed lips spread into a smile. She claps her hands together in excitement sitting up in the chair. 

“It’s not a necklace, doll.” He points out. She opened the box revealing the black lace underwear that had a vibrator inside of them. 

He was going to use these at their anniversary dinner as a sub and dog duo, but he guessed he had to come up with another idea to make their dinner interesting. His gloomy eyes watched as her eyes lit up like fuckin’ fireworks. His assumption was right. He watches as she simply stands up ready to remove her underwear eagerly.

“I do think a quick sex session will help me focus a bit more. This is why I came to you. At first, I was going to join that one guy who knows Nanami's study group, but in my mind—I just knew you would have a better study idea.” She giggled as her hand went to untie her tracksuit bottoms to change into the other panties.

“No, we’re not doing that. Put the panties on and sit back down.” He scattered around his desk to give her time to change into the vibrating panties. 

He thought she was going to argue against what he said, but she didn’t. As quiet as can be, she’s shuffling to remove her underwear and replace it with the sexual treat that Hiromi graced upon her. While she changed, Hiromi was looking for the notebook that he used when he was studying for his bar exam. He knew it had a bunch of mock bar exam questions on there and thought they would help. When he found the book, he walked back to his desk and Y/N sat patiently waiting for him, she went back to reading her textbook without a care. 

Hiromi removed the box from the table, placing it on the ledge behind him after he grabbed the remote. He slammed the notebook on the table that looked like it’s been through centuries of war. He liked keeping it because it showed how far he had come from a law student to one of the best lawyers in the city. He skimmed through the pages before finding a page he wanted to start on. 

“A defendant is being prosecuted for conspiracy to possess methamphetamine with intent to distribute. At trial, the government seeks to have its agent testify to a conversation that he overheard between the defendant and a co-conspirator regarding the incoming shipment of a large quantity of methamphetamine. That conversation was also audiotaped, though critical portions of it are inaudible. The defendant objects to the testimony of the agent on the ground that it is not the best evidence of the conversation.” He pauses briefly to look at Y/N across from him. “Is the testimony of the agent admissible?” 

He watches as she brings her French tip manicured finger to her chin to think. He had a feeling she knew the answer, she told him about the paper she had done about admissible evidence. But as he watches her shoulders go upward and downward in an ‘I don’t know’ manner, Hiromi lets out a sigh before pressing the remote. The silence in his office was disrupted by the sound of the vibration. He watches as she jerks forward provocatively. He leans back in his seat.

“You know the answer to this, stop being a smart ass.” Hiromi’s slender fingers toyed with the small remote watching as she was withering forward in attempting to mask her moan.

“It’ll be admissible,” She breathes out. 

“Why?” Hiromi asked. 

For a quick second, he can see a glint of sexual frustration in her eyes. This was the first sexual encounter in a while due to him restricting them from it. He had a huge case coming up and she had to study for the bar exam. Sex would cloud their judgment on the tasks they had to do. 

“The best evidence rule does not require proof of the conversation through the audiotape.” 

He presses the button on the remote making the vibrator stop. “Good girl. I knew you knew that.” His lips crack a smile and he watches as she recomposes herself. 

“Next question.” Hiromi flips through the pages in his notebook. “Hypothetically thinking, say a person broke into a closed building to solely seek refuge due to a snowstorm. Can this person be convicted of burglary if that’s her defense?” His fingers were itching to press the button, but he had to hear her answer first.

“No.” 

“Why? Come on baby, you know they’re going to ask why?” 

“I’m not sure, let me think.” 

It didn’t take long before Hiromi pressed the button. Her moans echoed within the study while clasping her thighs closed to engulf the sudden vibration from the panties she wore. She falls back into the seat across from him and her body arches off of it briefly before she’s finally croaking out an explanation. 

“Burglary requires the intent to commit a crime upon entering a building and seeking shelter from a storm is not a criminal act. So, this hypothetical person can validate her claim.” 

“That’s right. You’re doing amazing with these questions. Just need it to stick in your brain, that’s all.” He reassures Y/N with a smile.

The quizzing went on for about thirty minutes, but Hiromi had lost track of time when he felt how tight his cock felt in his slacks. He was sure she had orgasmed multiple times from the vibrating panties just by the way her eyes drooped, her body slouching in the leather seat she was in, and the fact that he could see her hardened nipples through the sports bra after she had unzipped the hoodie of her tracksuit. She had this tendency where if he wasn’t touching her during little sessions, she had to touch herself. Which she did, right across from him—each time he flicked the remove on causing the vibrating on her pussy, she'd pinch her marbled nipples while uttering out a response to a random law question. 

“I think you deserve a break for today. You still have the weekend to study,” He pointed out as he tossed the remote back into its box. “Come here.” 

She’s hesitant at first and Hiromi can tell just by the way her lips part to argue and her eyebrows frown together. She wasn’t sure if she should cave and come forward or stay put just to feel the vibrating in between her thighs again. She knew that he knew she always defied him in some way just to get a rise out of him, but today—it seems her head was screwed on right. After all, Hiromi didn’t have to help Y/N study. Helping her study wasn’t a part of the contract, but he did—in such an odd sexy manner that caused her to be soaked between her thighs. 

As she tiptoed around the wooden desk, she was peeling off her clothes so provocatively that Hiromi couldn’t help but swallow the harsh knot that formed in his throat. He couldn’t wait for himself to be buried so far in between her sumptuous thighs that the only thing he could smell on his top lip was her essence. Hiromi spread his muscular thighs so that she could take place between them—looking down at him like she was Aphrodite and he was a man that she had just placed under a spell due to her elegance. His hand grabs her waist letting his hands caress every bump and curve of her body that he was obsessed with. From the stretch marks that decorate her mahogany skin to the small mole that was right near her belly button. 

“You drive me fuckin’ insane,” Hiromi finds himself saying. His dark eyes scan at how her lips spread into a grin. 

He grabs her, placing her on his desk without a sweat. The sound of textbooks and notebooks echoed through the office as he pulled himself further under the table. Her legs gaped so provocatively that in Hiromi’s mind, the Lady Justice statue on the shelf on his left probably wanted to clutch her pearls. Hiromi placed subtle kisses on her legs starting from her ankle which was decorated bejeweled with a diamond anklet. 

“You’re stalling. You know how much I want you right now, and you’re stalling.” The law student breathes as she leans back on the weight of her arms. 

Hiromi watches as her chest begins to rise rapidly with each kiss growing closer to her pussy. Her words went into one ear and out the other for the lawyer and when he was finally face to face with what his mouth salivated for, his eyes met with hers. Her eyes were pleading for something. A kiss. A nibble. A lick. Hell, even a blow. Anything to soothe the aching feeling on her clit. Y/N’s hand went down to palm at the wetness in between her thighs, so eager and impatient—but the stern lawyer stopped her. 

“Don’t fucking touch yourself, Y/N.” He commands. 

And there goes the tone she was longing for. Oh, that authoritarian tone that made her pussy clench when he used it. She relaxes under his touch and lets him do his work. “If you’re going to take so long, I might as well finish off by myself.” Y/N comments. 

“You talk so much, do you love hearing yourself talk?” 

“And you are doing so much talking for a man whose mouth should be stuffed with my pus—”

Her words were interrupted by the feeling of Hiromi’s tongue dragging upon her panties. He pulled them to the side swiftly and finally was granted what he wanted all along. The flat of his tongue licks up her pussy lips collecting her juices like a man that was deprived of water for days. He moans at the taste of her and his hands grab at her waist to pull her closer. His eyes flutter close as he’s lapping at her puffy pussy lips at the sound of her moans. Her fingers entangled in his hair as her hips grind against his face. She wasn’t sure what was turning her on more. The way his face was buried into her pussy or how attractive it looked as his nose was nuzzling against her pubes. 

“Fuck.” She moans out, her toes curling at the feeling of his tongue flicking her clit. 

Hiromi detaches himself from her briefly, peppering soft kisses on her trembling thighs before devouring her whole again. The thing about Hiromi is that he knew how her body would react to certain things. He knew how her pussy clenched around his cock when he gave her neck a little squeeze. He knew that she was in between a squirter and creamer depending on the task. Squirting when he’s fingering her with a vibrator practically glued upon her clit. Creamer when he’s forcing orgasm after orgasm out of her after begging him to cum inside her (but to Hiromi, having his cum inside her is merely a privilege). So of course, he knew using his tongue to trace alongside the drooling entrance of her pussy was going to have her pushing herself forward for more. The mere feeling of his tongue invading her in such a manner that had her a trembling and whimpering mess was something Hiromi knew about her. 

Hiromi lets out a moan at how good she tastes. The taste of Y/N has graced his tongue countless times and he still ate her out as if it was the best meal he has tasted. With each squirm in his arms, he’s flicking his tongue slower on her clit. With each moan of his name that slips by her plush lips, he’s granting her more licks and sucks. He wanted to see her come undone right here. He could feel it just by the way her thighs were poorly attempting to entrap his head by shutting them. 

He lets out an annoyed sigh after he removes himself from her pussy, “Do you want to cum, Y/N?” 

“I do. I want to cum.” She whines.

“Then fuckin’ act like it.” 

Y/N obediently nods, her snarky comment jammed into her throat before she let Hiromi spread her thighs even wider than what they were before. Her clit throbbing to be in his mouth again and he graciously granted her wish. Like a deprived man, Hiromi snuggled his nose back into her pubes as if he belonged there. Y/N was aware that Hiromi knew she was about to cum. He had this tendency to hold onto her as if she would turn into dust in his arms—as if he didn’t want to let her go. That’s what he was currently doing as her orgasm was spilling over. One hand gripping her in place (that she knew would leave a bruise) and the other palming his hardened cock through his pants.

Just with the flick of his tongue, an explosive feeling causes Y/N to let out a dragged-out moan. Her back lays back on the desk as Hiromi’s tongue helps her ride out the orgasm. Her French pedicured toes curl at the feeling of that fiery pit in her stomach shattering so intensely it brought tears to her eyes. Her fingers tugged at his black strands of hair as if they were a handle holding her up from falling. When she heard him remove himself from her with a pop, Hiromi leaned back in his seat with a huge satisfied grin on his face.

After Y/N came down from the euphoria of cumming in Hiromi’s mouth, she sat up on her elbows with a pleased look on her face. She knew after any sexual intercourse with the high-profile lawyer, he just had to include aftercare in the special package. He may have gotten off at the thought of seeing her tied up with rope, handcuffed to his headboard, or mouth gagged with his cock—but he was very serious when it came to aftercare. The two soon settled for a bath to end the evening. The warmth of the water engulfed their bodies as they were in the large bathtub filled with scented soap and rose petals. Hiromi’s head fell back to be met with the marbled tile and he let out a relaxing sigh, the scent of Y/N lingering on his upper lip and tongue. 

“I have a confession to make..” Y/N leans further back on him, relaxing under the warmth of both the water and Hiromi’s body. 

“Hm.” He hums lightly letting his eyes flutter back open.

“I’m actually well prepared for the bar exam. Took a practice bar exam a week ago and according to my professor—if it was the real one, I would have passed.” She happily sighs letting her fingers play with the bubbles in the tub. 

“What?” Hiromi glares at the back of her head with a displeased look.

“I woke up this morning with a student and tutor sex fantasy, silly.” 

“You will be the death of me.” 

⤷‧₊˚ cuties that wanted to be tagged | @tojiscumdumpster @salaciousdoll @thithesandofferings @tachibannaa @shinsousliya @sinistersnakey1427 @gothogue @rhionnajones @jamaicanqueenaa @dxmb-luv @0hmyg0th @ryukenzz @dancingwithdeities @getosbunny @hvly @racconwarrer @aiyaaayei @torapologist @strawhatsav @msdrpreist @neesieiumz @strawberrymuffinlovin @consternat1on @photosbyameil

thanks for reading. <3

[pbnbucks]

word count : 807

warnings : smut, reasonably emotional

summary : paige’s graduation party leaves you emotional and horny for your childhood best friend who commonly teases you

request : “Can you please do a Paige x y/n one shot for prompt number 8/9 in the smut prompts? llysm your work is so good!!!”

your hands clapped together along with others when paige walked out into the back yard coming back from her graduation seeing the large tables filled in her yard along with the grills that are steaming with burgers and hotdogs as she hugs each one of her family members saving you for last pulling you in for a hug as she pulls away you place a lingering kiss on her cheek

“looking this good just for me mama?” your best friend teases you as her jokes never fail to put a smile on your lips

“well i had to since you want to leave me in minnesota so you can go to Connecticut to be with all your fangirls” you laugh messing with her as she fakes a pout “you know your the only one i got eyes for” she takes her graduation cap off as it leaves her hair all frizzy as you run your fingers through her hair fixing her hair,

once your finished you take a step back eyeing her frame and her curves making her blush at your focus on her “We're in public, you know?” she retorts trying to seem flattering “oh shut up playboy”

your helping her mom when the blonde comes back behind you asking you to help pick out a outfit as she wanted to take you for a walk downtown tonight.

you follow behind her up the long slim stairs walking into her room carefully shutting the door behind you.

her familiar room that was once cleaned was now filled with card board boxes that was packed with clothes and gear for her college years as your eyes lingered on the frames filled with pictures of memories over the years that where now stuffed into the boxes as well.

your facial expressions didn’t slip past paige with her giving you a worried look “what did i do mama? how can i fix it?” she sits on the edge of her bed as she pulls you in to sit on her lap as your head lays on her shoulder as you sulk in your feelings

“your leaving me p” you coo as the blonde was now going to be hours away since you decided to go to the university of minnesota and she decided to take her dreams to the university of Connecticut.

her thumb come down to your chin moving it for you to look up at her “im always going to be there for you, i promise” she whispers as her words send the shivers down your spine “i love you paige”

your softened tone must of flipped a switch in her because now her face inched closer to yours leaving barely an inch before you moved into her embrace as your lips fought for dominance as your body inches closer to her.

you bit her lip softly making a moan escape from her lips as she flips your back on to the bed hovering over you as the necklace you gifted her now dangled over your face as the heart shaped diamond shined over the dark room.

“you should know im not going to let you be in charge mama” she tries to convince you but you know one day she will let you top as her kisses linger from your neck to your lower stomach as she looks up for consent as you give her a quick nod for her to hurry up.

her tongue licks a long stripe between your dripping folds as your legs slightly squirm from the pleasure feeling making her smirk in pride while she continues to lap at your cunt while her tongue teasingly slips in your hole often not failing her teasingly playful manner.

her finger slips into your core slowly adding another one as moans begin to slip out from the feeling “Quiet. We don't wanna get caught now, do we?” she reminds you as some of her family are sitting inside away from the heat.

her attack on your clit never faulted as your lower stomach began to burn making you wince at the close feeling of pleasure as your hand is placed on her head.

“your worth the long wait princess” she coos as her moans send a vibration through your core as you feel the knot begin to collapse

“paige, need to cum” you force out as you can already feeling it break as she speeds up her movements as your liquids come crashing on your tongue as your head pushes in to the pillow you once rested innocently on muffling your moans. she licks up every last bit of cum she can as she pulls herself up over you

“so you wanna tell me how good i am or just keep staring at me?” her playfulness returns as she gives you a quick peck “paige” you whine as her spark comes back.

[random-thot-generator]

A Nice Guy

KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK x FEM READER

Summary: You've teased and taunted your neighbor Kyle for months on end, curious to see just how much a nice guy like him can take before he snaps. (And then, ya know, smut happens.)

Warnings/Tags: Profanity, Explicit language, Explicit sexual content, P in V sex, Rough sex, Good boy Gaz has left the building, No use of Y/N

(Notes: This is just a smut purge, folks. Don't think about it too hard, just go with it. Hope you enjoy!)

Word Count: 2.2K

-

Ask anyone in your building about the soldier who lives across the hall from you, and they all will basically tell you the same thing.

"He's a good lad."

"Solid bloke."

"Couldn't ask for a better mate."

"Such a nice young man."

So, general consensus: Kyle Garrick is a nice guy.

Maybe a little too nice, you think.

You see how he looks at you, where his eyes linger. He may be a nice guy, but he's still a red-blooded man under that faded ball cap and warm, friendly smile. He just needs a little... push.

So, push him you do.

You make it hard for him to ignore you. It starts with lingering touches and longing looks, but soon graduates to less subtle overtures.

You stop him for a chat sans bra in the chilly hallway, an innocent smile on your lips when your nipples pebble under your tight tank top and his attentive gaze. He licks his lips and tries his best to maintain eye contact, but he fails again and again before you finally let him off the hook.

You see how his warm brown eyes darken and his breath hitches when you 'accidentally' brush your hand against the front of his trousers at the post boxes. You murmur a shy apology and bite your lip, but he sees the way your eyes slide down his torso to catch on the bulge below his belt. You raise your brows and smirk before sauntering away.

But Kyle Garrick is a nice guy.

He tries to avert his eyes when you bend over in your short skirt to pick up the keys you dropped, because, oops! you're such a little klutz. If he happened to catch a glimpse of red lace disappearing between your thighs, it's never mentioned.

He grins and bears it when you press up against him in the crowded lift, apologizing even as you back your ass up against his crotch. You're rewarded for your efforts when you feel his cock twitch in interest, and he leaves the lift with his workout bag clutched over his jock.

His smile is strained but indulgent when you stroke his thigh under the table at the pub. Your friends sit around you, laughing and drinking, oblivious to the torture you're inflicting on the poor man beside you. You giggle then hiccup, announcing that your last glass of wine went straight to your head. It's obvious that you're a little too drunk to be held responsible for your actions. Yet he never offers to remove your hand or stop you, so you knead his flexing thigh for the rest of the night.

Poor Kyle.

It becomes a game to you, winding him up. You revel in his pent-up frustration; love how he now glares at you with that feral light in his eyes when you peer up at him with innocent guile. You know he wants you, and you want him, too, but watching him struggle to maintain his control is just so addictive. It's a high like nothing you've ever experienced before, and you know you won't be satisfied until you make him break.

You just never expected him to break the way he did.

A fancy boxed mattress gets delivered to your flat, the delivery guy insisting that it's yours; the invoice backs him up. There's a card attached to it, a short note scribbled inside:

'Congratulations! You won!'

Did you win some random drawing? Sign up for a chance to win online? Then again, you're always buying raffle tickets from the kids in the building for some fundraiser or another.

It must be serendipity. You had been complaining about your old mattress hurting your back just the other day in the lift, and then, boom! A new mattress appears. You shrug it off and smile, pleased with your stroke of good luck. No sense looking a gift horse in the mouth, you decide, and begin to drag the box into your flat.

"Need help with that, pet?"

It's Kyle, leaning in his open doorway, arms crossed over his chest, benign smile on his face. He's dressed for a lazy day at home- a tee, sweats and trainers, so, it's no bother helping you out. He steps forward and lifts the box to his shoulder, muscles bulging under the tight fit of his tee.

"Lead the way," he says, herding you back into your flat, making you jump when he kicks the door shut behind him.

He helps you remove your old mattress and unboxes the new one, grinning as you laugh in delight at the way it expands to full size before your eyes. The two of you wrestle it into position on your bed, then he helps you with the sheets.

You're bent over smoothing out the wrinkles when you feel him step behind you. You glance over your shoulder and the air catches in your throat. His legs brush the backs of your thighs as he steps closer, a dark, hungry expression on his face.

"Kyle—"

That's all you get out before his big hand lands on the small of your back and he slides it forward to press your chest into your new mattress. "Sorry, pet. Can't help myself," he apologizes, but he doesn't sound like he's sorry, and he doesn't remove his hand.

But Kyle Garrick is a nice guy. He would never take advantage of your vulnerable position. He would never crowd you forward, never grab you by the waist as he buckles your knees with his. He's not the type of guy who would manhandle you onto all fours on your brand-new mattress, would never dare to yank your leggings and panties down your thighs before burying two fingers knuckles-deep in your pussy.

Your grunt of surprise says it all.

But this is Kyle Garrick, the nicest guy you'd ever want to meet.

Yet the man who is now kneeling behind you with his fist clenched in your hair doesn't resemble that nice guy at all. This man is anything but nice, and he is intent on ruining you.

You whimper out a pitiful cry as his hand connects with your ass, hot and stinging. "Ah!" you squeak, embarrassed when you feel a trickle of arousal slip down your thigh.

His laugh is low and dark as he crooks his fingers inside you and smacks your ass again. You clench down hard on his stroking digits, gasping a cry when he plants his thumb on your clit and rubs hard, fast circles into it. Toes curling, your body jolts away from the intense stimulation, but he just barks a mean laugh and slaps your ass again before hauling you back.

You try lifting your head, but he tightens his fist in your hair and pushes your face back into the mattress with an amused, breathless grunt. "Oh, no ya don't. You wanted to tease me, huh?" he pants out as he hauls his cock and balls over the top of his sweatpants. He smacks the head against a reddened cheek. "Make me lose control?" he husks out as he hikes your hips higher. He grunts out a laugh. "Congratulations, pet. You won."

The words on the card dance before your eyes as his first thrust shoves your head into the pillows, sheets rucking up at your knees. Your shocked little cry makes him huff out another laugh. "Do ya like your prize, sweetheart?" he bites out, holding his full length inside you. He grips your hips hard enough to bruise as his chin drops to his chest. His breath hisses through his teeth before he mutters, "Fuck. Knew you'd feel good, but shit..."

He grunts out a low growl as he draws back his hips, a slow drag that acquaints you with every ridge and vein of his cock. You're clenching desperately, walls spasming as they try to cling onto his retreating length. He groans as he withdraws, not stopping until the ridge of his swollen tip catches on the rim of your entrance. He forces himself to look away from his glistening, wet length, yanking your head back to meet your eyes.

"Should I be the bigger person here, pet? Should I give ya what ya want, or should I tease ya with it?" he asks with a wicked grin as he circles his hips.

His hips then flex and his cock inches in just enough to give you hope before he pulls out again, and the walls of your cunt clench like a fist, squeezing the breath from your lungs.

You squirm and whine, trying to push your hips back, but he holds you firm. "Ah-ah! C'mon, I want to hear ya say it, first. Tell me what ya want." When you only whimper in frustration and jerk your hips, his hand cracks over your ass again as he gives your head a rough little shake. "Say it," he snarls.

Your mind is reeling. It's too much and not enough, and it's all happening so fast, but you got what you wanted. You made him break, you just never considered that he could break you, too, but now it's happening, what you've always wanted to happen, and it's...

... Just. Too. Much.

"You!" you cry out, plaintive and high. "I want— you!"

He sighs in satisfaction, his breath gusting over your back. "There she is. There's my girl," he moans, then spears your body on his length again, relishing the way your eyes go wide, how your lips form a perfect little 'O'.

He grips your hair and gives your head a lazy shake. "Now, say you're sorry," he croons.

You heave a sob, squeezing your eyes shut, shaking your head no, even as you begin to chant out a breathy, "'M sorry, 'm sorry. Sorrysorrysorrysorry..."

A dark chuckle makes you shiver as he folds himself over your back, his plush lips pressing a tender kiss behind your ear. "I forgive you," he whispers, letting go of your hair to smooth it away from your face. "Now, show me how sorry you are."

Hooking his hand over your shoulder, he takes hold of your hip and proceeds to pound you into the mattress. You keen his name out as your back arches, and his next thrust collapses your knees. "That's it, love," he puffs out, riding you into the bed. "Cry for me... Tell me how sorry ya are... for making me wait so long."

You would if you could, because you are sorry. You are so-so sorry for making him wait and denying yourself, but words escape you. With his big hand splayed between your shoulder blades, his hips rocking between your trembling thighs, the ability to speak abandons you, leaving you to babble incoherent sounds into the sheets.

His grunts and hissed curses are your benediction. His bruising thrusts battering your tender folds, the slap of his balls against your swollen clit are your atonement. The sweat that drips from his chin to patter across your back is his blessing.

This is how he forgives you.

Your pelvic muscles tighten, walls bearing down. He's worked you up so fast, your building orgasm takes you by surprise. It barrels past you at a speed that you can't keep up with and slams you into a wall, your release gushing as your core contracts. You clench so hard it makes you cry out, a pleasure that dances on a razor's edge of pain.

"Bloody— hell!" Kyle whines, bowing over you as you grip him like a vice. "I can't... You're too... Fuck!" he snarls out.

His hand grips your shoulder as his hips begin to piston, rutting into your tight, spasming walls as he comes unhinged. A string of curses and praise pour over your head as his weight presses you into the bed. He's dragging your orgasm out to a point of overstimulation, but there's no escape. You lie beneath him and pay your penance, wailing when he wrenches another orgasm from your body on the heels of the last one.

Your spine curves when you cum, cunt pulsing, working to pull him deeper, and it's all over for him. He plows forward with one last feral growl, and then his body seizes up behind you, cock buried to the hilt between your shaking legs. His hips jerk with his release, his breath choking off in his throat.

And you're just... gone.

You can see, you can hear, you can feel, but your brain isn't really processing any of it. Awareness is slow to return, but eventually you become aware of the heavy weight covering your prone form, can feel the heaving breaths warm and damp against your neck, notice how hot your skin feels compared to the cold, sticky puddle on the sheets between your spread thighs.

You moan and twitch, unable to move, stirring the man above you into action. The heavy weight is lifted away, and you feel buoyed up on the new mattress, your body now floating with your blissed-out brain.

Kyle flops over on his back beside you, hooded eyes peering up at the ceiling as he tucks an arm behind his head. He waits until his breath has evened out before he turns his head to look at you. There is hesitance in his expression and caution in his gaze, but hope is there, too, flickering behind his eyes.

You blink, sighing out a breath as your lips curve into a slow smile.

"Thanks for the new mattress, Kyle."

He smirks, brown eyes going soft and warm as he hooks his arm around your waist to drag you closer. Hand cupping your ass, he claims a kiss before he whispers against your lips, "You're welcome."

-

[hyewka]

warning: pathetic perv!hyuka as real as its gonna get!!! hes so filthy but its okay bcs hes cute ^_^ not proofread

meeting hueningkai in the fourth grade has to be one of the most memorable experience of your childhood—the impression he left was so large you remember the exact color of the bright neon hoodie (purple)—the polite, new and shy kid sporting his similarly colourful lunch box full of stickers of cute animals, glitter making it stand out more in the cubby of numerous neutral colored boxes. befriending him though only came when you graduated elementary.

the awkward phase of middle school and all the complications of being a tween—you went through that with kai—your best friend. the slightest teasing remark setting off alarm bells whenever it came to kai— having to learn just how protective you get over the people you see good in. that was the nature of your relationship at first, the little boy and his similarly little, guardian angel.

growing up together, you were always the one to fight off bullies but that slightly changed once high school came along. freshman year wasn’t any different, sophomore stayed the same for a bit, but then junior year was that year. you lost your v-card to your boyfriend of six months, you got accepted to your dream college along with your best friend, and speaking of him—kai had the most impressive, slightly delayed, growth spurt you’ve ever witnessed.

he was always slightly taller but summer of junior year and he suddenly grew a few inches—you don’t expect him to grow any more than that (oh…but he does). that never stopped you from wanting to craddle him like he was still that reserved little boy from elementary, even if he was big enough to come off threatening, or even if he was now far from reserved, being the extroverted ball of energy of your friendship. because kai would always be an angel—your angel.

but kai has since outgrown his preteen years, the babying from you blinding you from his reality. junior year was a staple year for kai—why? because it was his first time thinking of you in a more …perverted light. hes always had a crush on you, daydreamed of asking you out and how’d it go, wondered if you felt the butterflies he’d get when you’d exchange gifts for valentines annually—or that day you asked him out to the spring dance and you intertwined your fingers with his.

but hes never thought of you like that.

perv!kai who doesn’t realize that he’d fixate on your plush thighs whenever you’d wear your grey shorts, or that he’s holding in his breath whenever your cleavage showed, or your nipples poked through your flimsy shirt until he’s all alone in his bedroom, dimmed lights as his mind is only filled with thoughts of your boobs, thighs…arm tightening its grip on the plushie hes chosen to fall asleep with, and before he knows it he has his precious plush positioned right at his crotch—grinding his hard on, the soft texture sending the poor boy’s head to ecstasy, breathing quickly picking up as he imagines fondling your breasts for the first time ever.

perv!kai being the type to not feel guilt when his perversion manifests into extreme need, but feels that guilt when modifying his plushie into his personal pocket pussy, slipping his poor dripping tip in the small hole and making sure to close his eyes and imagine he’s not devastatingly ruining one of his most beloved plushies but your body— the one responsible to all his shameful nights of fapping sessions.

kai who used to despise it whenever you’d give him silly childish nicknames like he wasn’t a grown boy because it felt like a constant reminder you’d never see him as anything more, now relishes on the innocent angel-like view you had of him. starting out as quiet whimpers became louder moans of his most favorite nickname as he plays with his tits, completely naked with his dick standing straight, tip red as pre cum dribble from the slit, “h-ha- hueningie likes that—nng, he loves it”

perv!kai who’s shameful enough to jerk off to your voice when you call him late at night because ‘you just want to talk to him’, trying to keep his voice quiet but he can’t help the breathy moans slipping out his lips as he reaches his high when you call him by a nickname again, “hyuka, i miss you”

he’s snapped back to reality when the three hour long call ends, groaning at the realisation of the mess he made on his sheets. he was such a perverted boy. yet he can’t help but wonder if you heard him that day, and if you felt anything by it.

kai who almost jumps at the idea of cuddling with you when you offer it up at your couch one day, hands so sweaty as you get your bed ready, strangely timid. you clear your throat, “should i be big spoon? like in middle school, remember? you always—”

“no.” your brows raise at the curtness of his reply, the air a little awkward before he adds, with that adorable half smile of his, “it’d be impossible to spoon me anyway.”

you shrug, seeing that he had a point.

perv!kai who cherishes the way your body fit so perfectly against him, hugging you by the waist as you drift to sleep. perv!kai who doesn’t mean to do anything perverted, he swears this was going to purely be innocent but when your ass just so slightly shifts as to press it right against his crotch, he absolutely loses all sense of morality. how can he not be perverted?

perv!kai who freezes only for a few seconds before he too presses against your ass just a tiny bit more, growing bulge as he slowly moves his hip against you, not being mindful of the whines he was letting out near your ear until he notices your eyes lazily fluttering open. he doesn‘t think to quickly stop or even pretend like he wasn’t doing something, no— his mind is so rotten, too far gone after the numerous nights he had to opt to only jerking off to your pictures.

“hueningie’s in pain y/n, can you help me out?”

perv!kai who doesn’t a waste second to pull down your flimsy oversized pants and your underwear in one go, groaning in overjoyed gratitude when you even give just the slightest bit of a nod, “really? you’ll help me out? shit you’re so wet. fuck, is this for me? your body reacted to my boner?”

you think this is a dream, it has to be—its what you would’ve thoughts a few weeks ago, before recognizing moans through a call with your angel, the perplexing situation leading to this.

kai who’s now hovering over you, hands on both sides of your body, holding himself up as his chest heaves—oh the days hes dreamed of this. you nod again, half lidded, before he unzips his pants, dick flinging out, red tip leaking, too intimidating for you but perv!kai doesn’t stop to think, basically splitting you in half when he wastes no time to force his cock in, too excited he forgot to prep, and your shriek helping to drive him to light headed haze, the warmth of your pussy around his dick something hes never experienced—total virgin who kept it just for you.

the sensation too overwhelming, lips quivering, breath hitched before his head falls in the crook of your neck, inhaling, reminding himself that this is real, he was in your pussy, he was in you. “g-gonna cum.”

perv!kai who hadn’t even moved and yet he was so so close, a few pre-mature ejaculations before he starts moving his hips, thrusting his seed further inside you, sloppy sounds, tears threatening to spill from just how your pussy clenches around his dick.

perv!kai who is just so pathetic for your pussy, hot sparkling tears spilling down his cheeks because of overwhelming emotions, to which you instinctively reach out to wipe even as you’re stuffed with his dick.

thats when poor baby loses it, hips getting eccentric as your tits bounce around restlessly, oh you were just perfect for him but he cant help but try to quench his curiosity, babbling mindlessly. “you broke my heart when you gave it away, y’know?” his body was encasing yours, hips still feverish rutting into your now abused cunt.

“gave—gave what away?”

“your virginity.” he breathes out, attaching his mouth hungrily on your nipples through your top, “i thought we’d lose it together, with each other. i-i saved mines for you. but then—“

you gasp at the sharp suck of your nipples, his kisses getting rough on your body, finally finding your sweet spot when he tries a different angle, your back arching at the unexpected, clawing at his broad back.

perv!kai who cums buckets, spilling his load deep in your cunt multiple multiple times, kissing and sucking all over your chest, full of his love bites and spit, your shirt long hiked up, him too impatient to fully get it off. hes waited too long for this. his cum lewdly leaking but its okay, hyuka will take care of it. perv!kai who goes down on you, so desperate as he sloppily eats you out, nose brushing up against your clit, suffocating himself with your pussy, lapping his tongue against your slit and cleaning up his cum—groaning when you pull on his hair, shoving him further in, poor baby getting teary eyed, so worked up already, his hips canting against the mattress.

hehe perv!kai who was a virgin just for you, but so far from innocent, rambling on all the things hes been dreaming of doing to you for years.

#####################

a/n: my username being related to hyuka and yet i had nothing written for him of the entire four months ive had this blog is so so criminal

[my-castles-crumbling]

card - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 309

It was the last present of the evening.

The whole friend group had all gathered around and exchanged gifts, all the while drinking Firewhiskey and swapping stories about their new jobs now that they'd all graduated.

It was one of those rare moments when everyone was there- nobody was caught up with another obligation that made their little family incomplete. Lily and Pandora were curled up on the couch, Dorcas and Marlene in an armchair. James and Regulus were sitting side-by-side on the floor whispering to each other and grinning while Barty and Evan took turns throwing wrapping paper into the fire. Peter and Mary could be heard joking in the kitchen with Alice, Frank, Gideon, and Fabian.

As Sirius smiles softly and took in all the people around him, he almost missed Remus elbowing him, passing him the small parcel. "For you," Remus murmured, smiling a bit.

"What, no card?" Sirius teased. Remus was known for writing long, heartfelt cards that could make anyone tear up.

The taller boy chuckled, looking a bit nervous for some reason, but didn't answer.

Shrugging, Sirius opened the paper to find a small box. It looked oddly like something one would put jewelry in. But Remus had already given him a beautiful necklace earlier that evening, at their apartment. "What-?" he began to ask, but broke off when he opened it.

Inside the box was a ring. Is was simple in design, with moons and stars etched on the outside, and the word 'forever' engraved inside the band.

And when he looked over to Remus for confirmation that this was what he thought it was, he realized at once that the entire room was quiet. And staring at them. And that Remus was on his knee.

"I didn't think I should put this in a card," Remus said with a teary grin.

[randomvoidnoises02]

watching FOP:ANW after revisiting the original show for contrast and above everything else am losing my mind over just, how genuinly happy this mf is living as an adult somehow.

It's especially funny if you concider grown up Poof in new wish being this gifted student turned burned out college graduate, currently unemployed, canoncially living with his parents, regretting all the decisions leading up to this point in his life and looks 9 seconds away from anxiety attack at any given moment. All the meanwhile his evil counterpart is FLOURISHING, doing silly little dances every chance he get's and getting punted to the sun on the regular with zero fucks to give. Like the fucking, blue elf gremlin box thing from Fairly Oddparents out here living his best life after no longer suffering daily cuncussions and getting bullied by preschoolers 24/7 was not on my 2024 bingo card but ok.

[puffein]

UNMENDABLE THING | late spring [x.]

summary: wanda seeks out the only person who knows all the answers to her questions. pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader, wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff (platonic) warnings: angst word count: 2104 a/n: please enjoy!!

series masterlist playlist!

Westview, New Jersey

Early-February 2024

Natasha always knew her life would be a constant moving car on an endless highway to chaos. She planned it herself to have a life she's having now. To continue studying even just after receiving her bachelor's degree, well, that was a year ago but it's still as fresh as what her mind thought of. 

You have suggested her to take a year to rest, to start law school in the year 2024 but Natasha didn't want to waste more time. She wants to have the chaos she desires even if it will want her to pluck her hair out in the near future, but that is what she wanted. You have called her mental for starting researching schools for law a year before graduating and even called her a beast when she started studying for the admission test just a month after receiving a degree.

Everything is quiet right at this moment for Natasha. The only sounds emitting in her cozy apartment were the tunes of paper rustling and a low melodious classical music she had played in the background. Her eyes are downcasted in her desk, focused on a thick book that she had carried with ease. Everything is just in place for her. Quiet and peaceful.

So, when her front door was giving a frantic continuous loud banging of fist. She uttered a silent profanity in hopes for the noise to vanish but of course, the world is not a giving mother, it's a greedy one so she was left to fend off the banging of her front door. 

Pushing herself off the chair she's residing in, she shouts a gritted, "Wait a minute!" 

And when she thought chaos would start after her admission in her desired law school, she was wrong. Because standing in front of her, in her front door was the epitome of chaos. 

Wanda stood rigid in front of Natasha with her dishevelled auburn hair, green eyes imitating a sight of turmoil and confusion, hands fisted so tightly that Natasha made a mental note to check if it was bleeding. 

They stood looking at each other for a few seconds, when the stoic redhead finally spoke up, "What are you doing here, Wanda?" 

Natasha's voice was gentle like a calm weaving waters because she knew why Wanda is here. She had argued with you about this, about this exact event that will happen right before you fly away to Scotland but alas to her, you are one hell of a brickened being so, she was left to face Wanda with answers she had prepared. 

"Can I come in?" Natasha was shocked to hear the calmness of Wanda's voice, it contradicts her appearance. But Nat knew better, it was the calm before the brewing storm.

She opened her front door wider, inviting Wanda to a space she has never set foot before. When the two figures placed themselves comfortably in Natasha's living room, Wanda's travelling gaze set right at a picture frame of what she makes out an image of you and Natasha in graduation. It made the green-eyed woman taste bitterness in her mouth. 

"I'm sorry for intruding so suddenly, I know we have never been close before and I– uh want to thank you for coming to my wedding. The gift you and Y/N gave was something we needed." 

Wrong, that gift was everything Wanda hated. She hated that instead of a gift just from you, the small card glued onto the gift was written with 'from Y/N and Natasha'. 

Everything just seems to be you and Natasha, even in this little space of a place she never set foot in screams you and her. 

She saw little remnants of you in Natasha's place, like the small silver box that was always on top of your desk is now placed nicely on Natasha's shelves, the all too familiar vase you have decorated yourself sits rightfully in the redhead's coffee table, hell, even your favorite book is placed at her desk.  

She didn't want to get too worked up just by looking at things that is useless from the eyes of an outsider. But she was not an outsider, she knew how these little things mattered to you and it hurts for her to see it in the hands of another. 

"Y/N was the one who picked it so.." Natasha said cautiously, she waved her hand dismissively, "Would you like something to drink?" 

Wanda only smiles, shaking her head lightly, "No, it's fine. I'm not really here to have a drink with you." 

She should have worded it nicely but with the hard thrumming of her chest and the unanswered thoughts resurfacing in her troubled mind, she can't seem to be polite and civilized. 

Natasha sat back, her hands placed cooly at her lap, "What is it, Wanda?"

"Have you.. have you heard of Y/N?" she started, eyes focused on every little muscle of the redhead's strong features. "I just, well. We had a coffee back in December and um, it's been so long since she replied to me and when I called, it, it seemed to me that I was blocked."

Natasha nods, "Wanda, I didn't really know–"

"No. You can't possibly not know, Romanoff. You are her best friend." saying that made her flinch, like a pinch by the hands of a giant right at her chest.

"Look, Wanda. I don't want to come in between what is happening with you two. It's not my business." 

Wanda scoffs, her head whipping to the side as she tries so hard not to shed frustrated tears in front of the very woman she does not like. 

"I don't even know what is happening between me and Y/N. If you are clueless, what am I then? What word could you describe to someone more than being clueless?" she says exasperatedly, tone drawing out in between the lines of being desperate and being angry. But at the very back of her mind, she had a tiny clue of what was unfolding right in front of her eyes. She just wants to be shielded by the comforts of being blind and clueless in hopes of getting more answers.

"Because I don't know, Natasha. I don't know what is happening and it's making me angry that I have come from a place that knows every single detail of her life to nothing at all!" Wanda didn't mean to shout, she didn't mean to look like a crazed woman in front of a seemingly calmed redhead that stares at her with sympathy pooling in her eyes.

When silence ensues, Wanda knew she needed to be calm, to have her head in a space that would work perfectly. "Please, I just want answers that I know you could give." 

"She's in Scotland. She has been a week maybe after you and her met in the coffeehouse. I really don't know the exact date you and her met but she left in December." That was enough for Wanda to straighten her figure against the soft cushions of Natasha's couch. 

Why didn't you tell her?

Was her presence in your life not significant enough for you to tell her you have moved far away?

And without a warning, the self-doubt she had hidden, tucked away in the deepest corners of her soul, came crashing into her being like a canonball that has been shot for the sole purpose of crumbling a safely guarded boat in a harsh waters of the ocean.

"Did she tell you anything at all?" About me? Wanda wanted to say. Her voice was so quiet, the soft tunes of Natasha's music is more loud than the question she had just asked. 

Natasha moves her head in an answer that disappoints her, "I tried to tell her to talk to you properly, I really did, Wanda. But she doesn't want to, she said it's better for things to stay the way it is."

Wanda's strong facade crumbles down fast and rapidly. What did you mean to stay the way it is? What is that supposed to mean? Every answer she has heard just piqued her another question to be answered. And she's getting tired and confused, she thought Natasha would help her shed light on things that have stayed in the dark for too long but instead it just blew out the small illuminating candle in a space so pitch black.

"I-I'll be back, Natasha. I have to go. Thank you." with her weakened knees and the shaking of her hands, she stood tall and at the same time small as she postured herself to walk away. 

Natasha didn't let her go that fast as she rounded up the couch in a haste movement before Wanda could take a step outside. She grips the shaking arms of the green-eyed woman, "Y/N just needed time for herself. Please understand. You mattered to her, you should know that."

Wanda stares at her unmoving, the whipping of her cascading auburn hair was harsh and swift, "And still it was not enough for her to say goodbye?"

"Wanda–"

"No. Everything is just not enough when it comes to me." She gently yanks her arms out of Natasha's soft grips.

"If I mattered, she wouldn't be doing this. I know I have become such a shitty best friend for the past years and I know I have never apologized to her for my actions before graduation and just moved on in hopes for things to settle itself right as it is. But was that too big of a deal for her to just completely forget about me?" 

And there it is. The unspoken broken relationship you two had. She never spoke of it, in hopes that it will vanish and somewhat mend itself as time passes by. But she was clearly wrong. She had ignored things far too long that she knew in the back of her mind that this will never be fixed. It drove you away from her. 

It was in the year 2022, wasn't it? The year everything just fell apart, it was the year she started ignoring, giving you the cold shoulders, became a stranger. Just because she heard a half-finished conversation that hurted her ego and feelings far too deep. A conversation you didn't even know of because she just started doing actions after actions that resulted in a broken friendship. 

Darcy even told her to just say everything she had to say but of course, she had nothing to say and left things unsaid. 

It must've been so painful for you. 

Because pain is an understatement for what she's been feeling right now. Now, that you were the one to have left things unsaid. 

"I really don't know what happened between the two of you. But she was happy when you invited her to your wedding, I just knew she was elated that you somewhat did not forget about her after graduation." Natasha didn't know what she was saying, she shouldn't try so hard to mend things that has been left broken for so long. 

"Here. It's her address, she will kill me for this but the talk you two should have is long overdue, right?" Natasha pushes a small card into Wanda's hand, closing it tightly on the palms of an auburn haired woman.

She had to give you a push, right? Even if it's a push she shouldn't be doing.

Wanda glances away, her face contorts into an image of pain, "Thank you. This means a lot. But I– you wouldn't be saying that if you knew what happened." 

"Y/N kind of implied something about you leaving her hanging but she never told me the whole story. She always tries to shield you from my negative judgements, Wanda. I knew you did something wrong despite that," Natasha wipes her palms hardly on her thighs, "It just seemed the right words to say."

Wanda gave her a smile of appreciation and nods, "Thank you." And with that she started to let her feet lead her away.

Not without hearing the last words Natasha shouted, "Wanda, you should talk to her. Just say everything you had to say." 

She would laugh right now if she can because the words are just the same of what she had heard before. 

The world is a weird place to be living in, isn't it? 

Because she should have listened to that words a year ago when everything was fresh, not now, when everything seems to be in a place so hard to be fixed with.

general masterlist ◄ ►

—୧ taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta @sokovianbaby @vivs46 @kyaraderuwez

[rendy-a]

Leona, bedroom, romantic, married anniversary fluff (PS, a personal HC of mine: I think Leona would do more on holidays and valentines after getting married, or just graduating and moving in together. he knows his S/O wouldn't ask him to do anything anyway and his big-cat brain wants to do that anyways now?? a case of lowkey cat-brain He'd just be more affectionate in general after graduation i think; simply because all he really cares to give a fuck about is his S/O and himself, and that's easier to express with no extra factors )

I think you are right!  Leona, when motivated, is a force of nature.  I think, when he wants to, he can really go all out for romance.  Hope you enjoy your Valentine story.  Thanks for requesting!

BEEP BEEP BEEP! The shrill alarm wakes you from a peaceful slumber.  You roll to set your feet on the floor but instead fall from bed, tangled in the bed sheets.  A muffled laugh comes from the other side of the bed.  You stand and look over at your ‘sleeping’ spouse.  His eyes are shut but he hasn’t bothered to suppress his amused grin.  “I’m so glad I could entertain you this morning,” you say to him.  He cracks one eye and replies, “You are entertaining every morning, Herbivore.”  You roll your eyes and scoff before heading over to your closet to grab an outfit for the day.

“Wear the red one,” Leona comments from the bed.  You look over at him, “Why do you care?  I’m only going to work.”  He huffs, amused at your comeback.  “Where’s your holiday spirit, Sweetheart?  It’s Valentine’s Day.”  In you sleep-fogged state, you had forgotten.  You smile and reach deeper into the closet for your prepared gift, tossing it to your sleepy spouse.  “Happy Valentine’s Day, babe,” you say with a smile.  Leona sits up, motivated by your surprise and carefully unwraps the gift; it’s a set of lotions from Sunset Savannah.  You’d asked your sister-in-law what he’d liked to use back home.  “Bet you weren’t suspecting that, huh?  Sometimes you just have to put in a little planning to make the day special, dear,” you say with a satisfied smile. 

Leona smirks and looks at you for an uncomfortable amount of time.  Finally, you raise an eyebrow and set about donning your festively red outfit.  You swing it on when you notice a lump in the pocket.  Reaching in, you extract a small box; inside is a watch, sure to look great on your wrist with this outfit.  “Alright, fine.  You win the prize for best gift,” you say with a beaming smile, “but what’s with this message?”  On the inside of the box is written a few words, not even a full sentence.

“That’s all?” you ask your spouse, “Did you fall asleep in the middle of writing it?”  Leona smirks at you, “It’s Valentine’s DAY not Valentine’s morning.  You are going to have to wait for the whole thing.  You can be patient, can’t you Herbivore?”  You pout a little but resolve to not give him the satisfaction of begging for it.  He wanted you to wait, so you’d wait.

That didn’t mean you wouldn’t wonder.  Over breakfast, on your commute to work and sitting at your desk; your mysterious Valentine was on your mind.  Perhaps that was part of the plan all along, it would be very like your cleaver husband to find a way to occupy your thoughts while you were apart.  You’d just about gotten over your preoccupation with the mystery when a coworker arrives at your desk bearing a large bouquet of flowers. 

You jump up and grab them, rifling through the blossoms for a card.  Success!  Your coworkers gather around to smile at you and coo over the gift as you open the card for another line to your Valentine. Again, it appears to be only a single line and not a full Valentine’s poem.  The short line fails to impress the curious office gossips, but the flowers were enough to let your poor spouse off the hook. The gaggle of busy-body ladies declare Leona sufficiently romantic to warrant a pass for the year.   Although one feisty office auntie exclaims, he better try harder to write a whole Valentine next year!  You send them off with a laugh and remain at your desk alone, admiring your flowers and dreaming of what might be in store for you next.

At the end of the workday, you dashed out of the office, eager to return to your spouse for the rest of your Valentine’s Day surprise.  You wouldn’t have long to wait, as Leona was out front, “About time Sweetheart.  I was afraid dinner would run off if I had to stand around too much longer.”  You rolled your eyes at him before giving him an enthusiastic embrace as way of greeting.  “So, where are we going?”

Leona takes you to pick up a meal he has arranged from the same restaurant you go to on your anniversary.  Then, it is off an overlook with picturesque views to have a romantic picnic dinner.  The sun sets as you lean your head on your husband’s shoulder.  When the last rays of light are fading, he leans over and whispers another line of your Valentine into your ear.  You cuddle into his side, “The sun has set and that sounds like the end of my poem, so I guess Valentine’s day is over, huh?”  Leona gives you a satisfied hum, please with himself.  “Not quite, Sweetheart, we haven’t had dessert yet.”  You smile and hold out your hand for whatever treat he has prepared but instead he grabs your hand and tugs you to your feet.  “Not here.  Don’t rush it.” 

You shake off a feeling of disappointing when he only takes you back home.  You try make the best of it with a little joke, “Are you sure we can get in, looks like a fancy place.”  Your spouse jokes back, “Don’t worry, I know a guy.  He says we can have the best spot in the joint.”  You give him a playful swat and head inside. 

You take off your shoes as Leona disappears into the kitchen and returns with a box.  “Happy Valentines Day, Sweetheart.  I hope you like your treat.”  Your mood picks up considerably as you grab the box and rip it open to find a canister of whipped cream.  “That’s it?  Not much of a treat, is it?”  You look up to see a wild grin spreading on your spouse’s face.  That is all the warning you have before he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder.  He carries you off to bed, whipped cream and all.  Your day ends the same way it began, in a tangle of bed sheets with your spouse. 

It’s not until the next morning that you see the final line of your Valentine, scrawled on the discarded box.   Finally completing both your Valentine and perfect day. 

There was a time before I knew you, when I wondered if anything could grow in my barren heart.  Now, your love sustains me like a feast.  And your passion warms my frozen heart, Valentine.

[maritessa]

Divination Deception

Jun gets tarot cards from Tatsuya and it somehow causes chaos in Sumaru City.

“Come on, Jun-senpai…. Cheer up, won't ya?” Shougo handed Jun a pizza slice. Ken and Takeshi followed behind their friend and looked at Jun with worried eyes. 

Jun smiled weakly at the gang and thanked them for the food. He sighed softly and sank back into the couch. It's been a few days since Jun hogged the couch in Sumaru Prison. Gas Chamber is always excited to see him but not when he's sighing every 10 seconds and dragging his feet. 

“I'm sure Tatsuya will come around sooner or later,” Ken said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. Shougo and Takeshi elbowed Ken at his mention of a certain taboo subject. They couldn't believe Ken stepped on such an obvious landmine.

“Tatsuya…” Jun uttered weakly. He looked at the wrapped box Tatsuya gave him on their last date and gently caressed the carefully decorated exterior. His fingers fiddle with the uncharacteristically frilly blue ribbon that sat on top of the present. 

“I'm still not talking to him first though,” Jun huffed, dropping the present on his lap. 

Jun and Tatsuya were out on a date at Honmaru Park in Rengedai. The pair hadn't seen each other in 2 weeks due to finals season. Graduation was peeking at the corner for the two senior students so their parents (and Katsuya) made them promise to have no dates until they've taken their tests and passed them. 

The two sat on a bench near the fountain, enjoying the peacefulness of hearing the water along with the distant noise of children playing in the background. Tatsuya kept glancing at Jun, checking if Jun’s opened the gift he's brought him. 

Unbeknownst to Tatsuya, Jun felt guilty about how he didn't have a gift for their reunion. There was a weight in the box that didn't seem to go away and Jun suspected it would disappear if he was able to return the favor. 

Clang.

Clang.

Clang. 

“Pork buns! Get your pork buns here!” It was from the other side of the fence but everyone in the park could clearly hear the vendor. 

Tatsuya’s stomach growled at the sound of the nostalgic bell. It was faint but not faint enough to hide from Jun’s attentive ears. 

Jun immediately stood up and stood up on the bench. “I'll get you some of the pork buns, Tatsuya! Just wait right here!” 

As Jun was about to lift his foot up on one of the fence’s railings, Tatsuya lifted him up from his waist and sat him back on the bench. 

“Jun, it's dangerous to climb fences! If the guard caught you, you'll get sent to the police booth.” Tatsuya reprimanded his boyfriend.

“It'll be fine! I'll be quick.” Jun scratched the back of his head and tapped his right foot at a quick pace. Tatsuya noticed how impatient Jun was getting but he firmly kept Jun in place by applying force on his shoulders. 

“Do you want some pork buns? We can just get out of the park through the gates and buy them together,” Tatsuya suggested.

“But I want you to stay here and wait for me!”

“There's no need for that. I'm fine with walking.”

“It's not about you walking, it's about me getting them for you.”

“Then we can just walk together and you pay for them.”

“Then it's pointless if you walk with me!”

“How is it pointless? We're on a date so I want to stay with you–”

“Ahem.”

The couple’s bickering was interrupted by a cough from the other side of the fence. The two looked up and noticed a pork bun over it.

“I can just hand the pork bun from here. No need for you lads to fight, eh?” The vendor from the other side chuckled awkwardly.

Tatsuya was about to grab the pork bun but Jun started walking away. Jun just couldn't stand how Tatsuya had something for him and he came unprepared! And when he finally thought of something to do, Tatsuya just HAD to act super cool and handsome and ruin his plans! He wanted to do something for Tatsuya too but Tatsuya just had to be a considerate gentleman! 

Ugh, can you believe that guy? 

And that was the last time the couple talked in the past week. 

“I don't even know what he got me.” Jun carefully unwrapped the gift wrapping. He made sure to keep it as intact as possible so he could add it in his scrapbook later. 

Upon completely unboxing it, the gift turned out to be astrology-themed tarot cards. Jun almost let out a sigh of affection but stopped himself before it was audible. That jerk Tatsuya just had to get something that's perfectly in line with his interests, huh? The cards made the wound fresh again (not like it's healed).

“Are those playing cards?” Shougo asked.

“It clearly says ‘tarot’, dumbass.” Ken snarked.

“What the fuck is a ‘tarot’?” Takeshi blurted out. 

Jun carefully unfolded the instructions and read the description out loud. 

“Tarot cards can help tap into deep, unconscious inner knowledge and offer valuable insights into one’s life, or they can portray hidden motives, opportunities, and potential to the querent–”

“Hey, I got the date for our next performance. I was thinking of discussing the schedule– what's going on here?” Eikichi walked in the room, unknowingly interrupting Jun. 

“Look at this, Boss! Jun-senpai can read our fortunes!” Takeshi said excitedly.

“Hey, I literally just opened these! I don't know how to use them!” Jun said defensively.

“There's a manual right here.” Ken flipped through the pages. “The meanings are all right here.”

Jun grabbed the pamphlet from Ken and quickly scanned through its contents. He already felt overwhelmed by the whole process but he was intrigued nonetheless.

“Oh, it's those card thingies.” Eikichi casually pulled a card from the middle of the deck. “What does mine say?”

In the photo there was a man carrying swords and he seemed to be sneaking away. It was the 7 of Swords of the minor arcana. Jun scrambled to find the Swords section in the pamphlet and answer Eikichi’s expecting gaze.

“It says here that the 7 of Swords stands for deception, trickery, and stealth. Someone might be lying to you….” Jun gulped. 

The Kasugayama students looked at the Boss, waiting for him to think of anyone who could be deceiving him. They all jumped in their seats when Eikichi suddenly punched the table. 

“Son of a bitch!” Eikichi yelled.

“What is it?!” Shougo asked frantically. Everyone was leaning in to hear what Eikichi had to say.

“I knew Tacchan hadn't given up on being the most handsome man in Sumaru!” Eikichi grumbled. “Why can't he just accept defeat? He's up against the Michel!” 

“Yeah! Who does Tatsuya think he is anyway?” Shougo cheered.

“That's right! Our boss is the best in the whole nation!” Ken exclaimed. 

“Uh, you are cool, Michel, but I don't think that's it.” Jun said plainly. 

Jun knew Tatsuya didn't really think about being the most handsome man in Sumaru. In fact, Tatsuya only agreed to this whole contest just to get a reaction out of Eikichi. It did not help that Jun was fanning the flames by bringing it up around Eikichi at every given chance. 

“I see that the cards are influencing you, Jun.” Eikichi laughed and shook his head. “I'll confront Tatsuya right now! This is a fight between men!!”

With that Eikichi ran outside of Sumaru prison with Takeshi, Shougo, and Ken following behind him. 

Jun's brain hadn't registered whatever the hell just happened but the words ‘confront Tatsuya’ and ‘fight between men’ aren't exactly the most pleasant to hear. Especially coming from Kasugayama’s head boss and double especially when it's directed at his boyfriend!

Jun ran out of the livehouse and looked around to find a glimpse of Eikichi and the gang but, as you'd expect from them, they were instantly gone. Jun jogged around aimlessly to catch any clues as to where they could be but instead caught sight of someone else he knew.

“Maya-neesan!” Jun ran to his admired elder sister. He bowed down to greet Katsuya as well. “What are you doing here in Hirasaka?” 

“Jun-kun, it's been a while!” Maya giggled heartily. She raised her right hand and revealed her hand intertwined with Katsuya’s. “We’re out on a date.”

Katsuya looked away, his face flushed red, and nodded. Jun smiled at the two but he couldn't help but feel a lingering emptiness. He talked big but he couldn't help but miss Tatsuya. Katsuya noticed the shift in Jun's demeanor and patted him on the shoulder. He wasn't quite sure exactly what happened but he certainly noticed Tatsuya blasting Mariah Carey’s “Always Be My Baby” on repeat in his room.

“Sorry for interrupting your date then,” Jun bowed slightly and Maya shook her head. 

“It's been a while and I'm glad to see you so don't be! ” Maya playfully hit Jun on the back. “What do you have in your hands there? Playing cards?” 

“Ah, they're Tarot cards Tatsuya gave me….” replied Jun. 

Katsuya squeezed Maya's hand and gave her a look that Maya somehow understood as “Tatsuya and Jun-kun are having a rough patch right now so bringing up Tatsuya is probably rubbing salt in the wound.” Maya caught this and frantically yelled, “Wow! Can you give me a reading?” without a second thought.

Jun snapped out of his daze and nodded with great energy. He quickly shuffled the deck and asked Maya to pull the card on top of the newly arranged cards. Upon the reveal, there sat a woman with a small wand on her hand. She had a crown and sat on a cushion throne. Maya had gotten the Empress. 

“Ooh, Empress. She looks pretty!” Maya smiled cheerily. “I hope it's a good card.”

Once again, Jun opened the pamphlet and looked for the Empress interpretation while Maya gushed about her expectations of good results to Katsuya. 

“It says here that the Empress means… mother, nurturing, and…. Pregnancy?!” Jun couldn't help but raise his voice at the last part.

Maya stood there in shock. Katsuya didn't really believe in the cards but that didn't stop him from holding his breath. 

“Uhm. I'm very new to this so maybe I interpreted it wrong!” Jun frantically explained. “Don't worry about it too much!”

Maya stood there silently and rubbed her stomach. She clutched onto Katsuya’s coat and said seriously, “Katsuya-san, it's impossible for you to be the father but would you be willing to take responsibility for this child?” 

Jun unconsciously grabbed Katsuya’s sleeve. 

“Huh?” was all that left Katsuya’s mouth. 

“I know you're waiting for marriage and all… I'm just a dirty cheater!” Maya faked sobbed. From how exaggerated everything was, Jun understood it was a joke. 

Katsuya didn't seem impressed by this whole situation though. He blankly stared at Maya and breathed slowly. 

“Maya-neesan, I think that's going a bit too far.” Jun pulled on Maya’s arm to try and get her to stop. 

“Come on! It's just a joke, Jun-kun! I'm sure Katsuya-san understands–”

By the look of Katsuya’s face, it didn't seem like he understood. His already naturally furrowed eyebrows? They went down deeper. His breathing was uneven and his right hand squeezed the nook of the coat's elbow. He was clearly holding something back.

“Kat-Katsuya-san… you don't really think I cheated, do you?” Maya stuttered. 

“No but I still don't find this whole thing pleasant.”

“I'm sorry! It was just a joke, I promise!” Maya laughed awkwardly. “I'll go to a Tadashi Satomi to get a test right now! There's no need to worry!”

Maya pulled Katsuya by the hand and dragged him to the direction of the nearest Satomi Tadashi. Katsuya tried to stop her since he didn't really believe in divination but Maya was determined to clear her name of the implied allegations against her (she caused them). Jun didn't really know what to do after that whole fiasco, so he just followed behind them. 

While Maya was admiring the different designs and types of pregnancy tests and Katsuya was as red as his polo shirt, Jun spotted Lisa from the corner of his eye. 

“Lisa! It's been a while!” Jun greeted his close friend.

“Jun!!!!!” Lisa beamed and jumped into Jun’s arms. “It's been way too long!”

“What are you doing here?” Jun asked. 

“I'm just checking out the new make-up stock. Nothing much.” Lisa shrugged. 

“What are those? Playing cards?” She pointed at the cards in Jun’s hand. 

Jun explained how Tarot cards worked to Lisa and the latter's eyes sparkled. Fortunes?! That's all she needed to hear! Lisa snatched the deck from Jun’s grasp, messily shuffled them, and pulled the card on top. It depicted a man and a woman, holding a cup each, and they attended their wedding ceremony. It was the Two of Cups.

It was already obvious but Jun still read the interpretation as written in the pamphlet. “Two of Cups stands for attraction, connection, proposals, and marriage….”

Lisa’s face turned red and she covered her face with her hands. “B-but the only person I'm interested in is Chinyan.”

Jun patted Lisa's back. He was unsure of how to act whenever Lisa was openly affectionate towards his boyfriend. He knew Lisa wouldn't do anything to Tatsuya but he felt guilty that he couldn't ease her pain.

“But Jun, you're with Chinyan! I won't let him cheat on you!” Lisa huffed angrily and stormed off. 

“Wait– Lisa!” Jun ran after and tried to reason out but everyone who knew Lisa knew that when she’s upset, there’s no stopping her. Jun silently asked the cards about how Tatsuya was doing. Would he really cheat in the 7 days they were apart?! And with Lisa of all people?! 

After grabbing the card that resonated with him the most, it revealed a heart being stabbed with three swords under rain clouds. It didn't require a genius to interpret this card but Jun checked just in case he was wrong. 

“3 of Swords… Heartbreak, sorrow, and infidelity….” Jun swallowed the lump in his throat. 

He held Lisa’s hand and looked down at his feet. Logically speaking, he knew that Tatsuya would never do that to him. He would never betray Jun! But with Lisa’s reading and his lining up with each other, he couldn't help but feel anxious about this whole situation. 

Lisa glanced at Jun and saw how mopey he looked. She squeezed his hand and pulled him closer, hugging his arm and offering her warmth for comfort. 

While all that was happening, Tatsuya and Miyabi sat in the corner of the local Peace Diner and shared a tray of fries. Everyone in the establishment looked at the sullen and mysterious expression of the handsome Seven Sister's student but Tatsuya did not feel handsome at all. In fact, he didn't even care that he was being stared at. All he felt was pain and agony from not seeing Jun for another week!

“What am I supposed to do, Hanakouji? I didn't see Jun for two weeks because of exams and now I haven't seen him for another!” Tatsuya groaned. “I'm suffering from Jun withdrawal, I can feel myself actually going insane.” 

Miyabi wasn't familiar with this side of Tatsuya. He's usually reserved so maybe, Tatsuya going insane wasn't a figure of speech. Miyabi considered calling the authorities to check on him.

“Have you tried contacting him?” Miyabi chewed on a fry.

“I mean… I went to his house and he wasn't home….” Tatsuya murmured. 

Miyabi thought that a text would suffice but she didn't mention it. It was usually Eikichi or Jun being openly emotional so it felt refreshing to see Tatsuya a mess, as bad as it sounded. 

Bam!

Everyone glanced at the door to check the source of the noise and there stood Eikichi. He marched towards Tatsuya and pulled him by the collar.

“You!!!” Eikichi growled. “You weren't satisfied with trying to take the title of most  handsome man from me so you also target my girl?!”

“Huh?” Tatsuya broke himself free of Eikichi’s grip.

“Eikichi-kun, it's not what it looks like!” Miyabi cried.

Eikichi pulled Miyabi to his side and grabbed her by the waist. He bitterly pointed at Tatsuya and snarled. 

“What?! So you weren't cheating with me but with Koazy?!” Lisa and Jun interrupted the scene. The rest of the customers weren't even eating anymore, they were way too invested in the drama that was unfolding before them.

Tatsuya didn't notice. Tatsuya didn't even hear whatever the hell Lisa just said. He saw Jun with a fierce look on his face, his arms intertwined with Lisa's.

“Jun… Can we talk?” Tatsuya whimpered as he ran towards Jun. He looked so adorable being out-of-character that the audience almost shed a tear at his cuteness. 

Lisa stepped in between the two boyfriends and hid Jun behind her back. “What are you going to talk about? Are you finally going to tell him about how you're cheating?”

“Cheating?” Tatsuya scratched his head. “I cheated on my blood pressure test in the clinic if that's what you mean.” 

“Hah, so the lies the cards told me is this, huh?” Eikichi laughed to hide his annoyance. “You're the traitor, huh, Suou?” 

“I'm seriously lost right now, can someone fill me in?” Tatsuya pleaded. The rest of the diner prayed they would answer his plea because they were also lost in the plot.

“You know the cards you gave me?” Jun started explaining. “We used them to read fortunes and it said something about someone lying and betraying Michel.”

Miyabi, who had been silent this whole time, pulled Eikichi’s sleeve and asked him to listen to her. Eikichi loosened his stiff shoulders and leaned down to hear Miyabi’s words.

“Actually… I was the one who called Suou-san here.” Miyabi said bashfully. “Because, I felt so guilty about spilling ink on the lace handkerchief you gave me for my birthday. When you said you wanted me to use it on our date, I didn't know how to tell you….” 

Tatsuya nodded his head and agreed with everything Miyabi revealed. “We were seriously just venting out our feelings.” 

Eikichi backed down and started comforting Miyabi about the handkerchief incident. While the two hugged and reconciled, Lisa wasn't convinced. 

“Okay, so why exactly did Jun get a card about heartbreak and infidelity?” Lisa badgered. She squeezed Jun’s hand in anticipation of Tatsuya's response.

“I don't know about infidelity but… it's been rough not being able to talk to you, Jun.” Tatsuya sniveled. “I swear I never cheated. If you consider me venting to Hanakouji about my feelings as cheating then I won't do that too ....” 

Tatsuya dropped down on his knees and looked down on the ground. Jun kind of felt guilty for causing this, especially considering this started because Tatsuya was being an A+ boyfriend unlike him. He crouched down to Tatsuya's level and ruffled his hair. 

“Geez, why are you the one looking so pitiful? You're not even at fault.” Jun chuckled sheepishly. “You're only allowed to show this pathetic side of you to me, okay? So stand up and don't let the whole diner have a show.” 

Jun assisted Tatsuya up and laughed at the mess his boyfriend was. He's always perfect which Jun loved about him even though it was annoying but Jun loved his pathetic side just as much.

Before Tatsuya could respond, his phone buzzed. Both he and Jun checked the message and it was from Tatsuya’s mother.

“I asked your brother to invite his lover to dinner. Ask Jun-kun if he'd like to join.” 

Tatsuya looked at Jun with longing eyes which Jun responded to with a hearty chuckle. He snuggled into Tatsuya's shoulders and walked out of the diner. 

“Wait what? So Eikichi, Jun, and Chinyan can get their happy endings but I don't know who my partner is?!” Lisa complained out loud. 

Lisa heard a laugh from behind her. When she turned around, it was none other than Chikarin who witnessed the whole event. 

“You were so cool, Lisa-san! Chikarin is sure your fortune will also come true!” Chikarin smiled widely at Lisa. 

“Thanks, Chikarin. I hope so.” Lisa sighed. “Coaches truly don't play, huh? Can't believe I just fixed my crush’s love life.” 

Chikarin patted Lisa’s back and pushed her to the cashier. 

“Yes, yes, you did great. Let Chikarin treat you to some burgers as a reward.” Chikarin cooed. 

“Yay! You're the best, Chikarin!” Lisa hugged Chikarin tightly as they picked out which combo would get them the best deal. 

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to another : blanched?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear steamed scrambled eggs,

I'm so sorry it took a while to get back to you. I landed and immediately started working full-time again. Ugh, the modeling life does not let you down with bookings. My manager told me something about how I'd be busier from now on since I got to walk in Paris this year. My resume is popping... did I use that right. I can't keep up with all this young people lingo and I'm not even old.

I doubt your face card is that bad if what you brought up in our early letters is true. If nearly all of your friends wanted you to get into modeling, then surely there's a reason. It's not like your friends sound like typical models either, so I can only assume that they're actually higher-ranking models or whatever.

Oh. Yes, after this walk, it seems Ada's officially reached supermodel status. She's about to get so much busier... I miss when she had time to attend her local fan events. Well, maybe I'll be like that one day? Who knows. I'm not even big enough for fan events yet.

I'm also starting to have suspicions of who you are. So, if you end up with a stalker... sorry (for reasons this is a joke) but I do have suspicions. I bumped into that roommate of yours while in France. I could put two and two together, but I'd much rather just bump into you again. Surely you won't dodge me when I ask for your number again?

Which brings me to my next point. I did bring you to Paris with me. I had nearly all of our letters boxed up in my suitcase, and it drove my manager mad. My agent didn't care as much since he was seeing his girlfriend, but my manager was going through it. "You don't need a box that big." he said. Skill issue. That's why he's still single (I am too). Oh, oops. My internet persona seems to be seeping into the way I write to you now. Shame.

Which brings me back to the point. No gift this time? Seems I need to step up my game with you a bit. Mm... should get some help from a friend. Ah, right. Favorite flowers?

See you soon (threat) Christmas

It's not hard to put two and two together. If Ada had pointed out the letter with that kind of look in her eye, then there was definitely something she knew. Considering everything about her, it's not hard to deduce that he's been writing to you. You. Literally. From day one, the universe sent you right to him and he didn't even put two and two together until Ada had made it somewhat obvious. It's a little silly of him considering that he did graduate top of his class in the police academy with perfect grades for everything, but it's fine. He's just rusty, or something.

Well, he can't ask her for your address since you probably live with her, but he can most definitely ask someone else who happens to know the two of you rather well.

"Sancho!" Luis laughs. "Fancy seeing you here, eh?"

"Yeah." He hums, closing his eyes as the makeup artist touches him up. "I had a favor to ask of you, Luis."

"Oh, of me?"

"I'd like to send flowers to the model I walked with last time. Surely you can help me out?"

"By doxing them? I don't think so, sancho." Luis shakes his head. "Told 'em you had a crush on them, but they told me there was no way back then. Seems like I was right, hm?"

"Yes."

"Aye... shame. I can't help much. But, I can extend an invite to a certain something." He sends an image to Leon's phone.

"It's like... August right now."

Luis shrugs. "Invites went out a week ago. You'll be our guest of honor. I'll send you further details as we get closer. You can meet them there, sancho."

Leon doesn't have a particularly good feeling about it, but anything to scare you shitless, he assumes.

"Why are you so willing to help?"

"You're a nice man." Luis waves. "You owe me, though."

"Didn't realize we were keeping count."

prev letter : masterlist : next letter

[bullet-prooflove]

Absence: Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond  @chickensrule @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface @justameresimp @lxaah11 @librarian1002 @littlebadariell @imaginecrushes @luckyladycreator2 @emersxn99 @noxytopy @flrboyd @nani-kenobi @areamir @b-bradshaw @adaydreamaway08 @beausimpson @crimeshowjunkie @shepgurl @inkandarsenic @ashcosmo

Deployment!Series:

Propriety (NSFW) - All thoughts of propriety goes out of the window when Beau finds you in his office.

Rumours - Beau doesn't realise there's a rumour about him.

Disengage - Beau discovers your secret.

Stalemate - The stalemate between you and Beau breaks when he recieves some news.

The house is empty when Beau returns home from the mission with the Top Gun graduates, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He puts it down in the space by the front door before he unlaces his boots and sets them where your court shoes used to reside. Something inside him breaks and he’s overcome for a moment because it hits him that you’re gone.

He had known in his heart that he wasn’t going to make it. He'd been in the middle of the Pacific when the day ticked by, he’d counted down the clock with agitation and when your allocated time had passed, he’d felt that ache blossom in his chest. He’d carried it with him for the rest of the journey.

I’m sorry, he’d texted you late that night, but the message is still unread. He knows you can never get signal in the first few days of deployment.

The only blessing is that you’re heading to Naples, a place you love almost as much as the home you’ve made together. You’ve been stationed there a number of times over the years and Beau takes solace in the fact that he knows you’ll thrive over there.

“Alexa, play Ally’s Playlist.” He says as he steps into the living room, his socked feet slipping slightly on the laminate floor. The dulcet tones of Norah Jones fill the space as he sits down on the edge of the couch and ignites the candle on the coffee table with the firelighter. The scent of sea salt and sage fills his senses as he sags back onto the couch and closes his eyes.

He sleeps there that night, amongst the remains of your essence.  

He wakes as the sun comes up, the light filtering through the blinds that he forgot to close. The playlist has run its course and the candle has burnt itself out. He’s stiff when he finds his way into the kitchen, his mouth dry.

There’s a box in the centre of the table, it’s wrapped in royal blue paper with a small cream card propped up against it. His name is written in your neat cursive scrawl, he runs his thumb over the indentation before opening the envelope.

The edges of his lips twitch up when he sees the card because he thinks you knew what would happen, that he’d be feeling hopeless and adrift at the lack of contact.

Distance means so little when someone means so much.

The words touch something deep down inside of him, your sincerity stretching across the distance.

He pulls box towards him, it’s heavier than he expected. He unwraps it with care, his fingertips skirting along the joins in the paper as he removes the tape. He recognises the packaging, it’s from an antique shop in the city. The two of you have acquired a few pieces from there over the years including the art deco hip flask you’d given him for his birthday. He opens the gift to find a maritime hourglass inside.

It’s a beautiful piece, made out of brass and hand crafted.

There’s an engraving etched into the top, his finger traces over the words as he reads them out loud.

Six months.

A smile graces his lips before he turns it upside down, the sand beginning to trickle into the vessel below.

Six months, he thinks. He can handle six months.

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

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[97-liners]

characters: mingyu, a gender neutral y/n

tags: zombie apocalypse, horror

warnings: major character death, gore, gun violence (and other violence, idk this is a zombie apocalypse setting), resource scarcity (see setting), mentions of a global pandemic (see setting)

60-minute free writing exercise

words: 2.3k

.

.

.

Mingyu was silent when he died.

Your hand on the trigger, his knees at your feet, you looked down the barrel to see him crying. In a moment of clarity, he had stopped fighting, and he was Mingyu again. Your Mingyu. And you knew that it was your Mingyu, that he still loved you, because he let his hands still at his sides and sat back on his heels, eyes glassy and wide and terrified, afraid to die, but afraid of what would happen if he didn’t. And because you knew he loved you, and because you loved him, loved him so much it was like a vice grip on your chest and on your finger-- because you loved him, you didn’t let his last little gift go to waste. Before the moment of clarity could pass, you pulled the trigger.

That was a week ago.

Now, you’re in your car-- his car, Mingyu’s old Toyota that he bought when he graduated college and got his first real engineering job. The days are long, and the nights are dark, but you have a destination in mind. The two of you were going to go to California together, where there’s a large settlement on the coast. In the last days before the cell towers went down, Mingyu had been on the phone with one of his old childhood friends, talking about it. “Let’s go,” his hand on yours, chest full of that stupid optimism that got him through junior year and the first six months of his shitty job in Jersey City and the time the two of you were stuck waiting for the MTA for 45 minutes, “Minghao says there's space for two.”

You’re alone now, driving through Nebraska on the I-80. There’s gas stockpiled in the trunk, and there’s still about a hundred miles until you get to Cheyenne, where you’ll get out and look for a gas station with still-functional pumps. The shotgun is on the passenger seat, accompanying you like a friend— like a lover. (There’s still blood and brains in the crevices of the gun. You spent hours with a rag next to a muddy puddle of water by the side of the road, wiping down every square inch you could see. Fresh water is hard to come by, however, and it’s not smart to stay in one place for too long. Hell, you haven’t even been able to shower in weeks. Your skin still bears the chemical burns from when you had wiped yourself down in bleach. It hurt, but you couldn’t risk the virus getting into your bloodstream, even accidentally.)

It’s sunny today. Nearly painfully bright. It feels like it shouldn’t be this sunny, not after everything that’s happened. But the sun is distant and uncaring and beats relentlessly down on the rolling plains around you.

And then, from miles away, you see it— a rest stop. The light-up sign has long since blinked out, but the shape is unmistakeable in the sea of blond grass rippling in the wind. A box-shaped building, next to it the hollowed-out remains of a Wendy’s. And a gas station. The huge kind, with two rows of pumps and a parking lot. Your breath hitches as you get closer and closer and the details materialize into view. There’s even gas prices still posted on the sign — under five bucks a gallon. That must have been put up before people started panicking in earnest and entrepreneurial gas station owners cranked up the prices to fifteen, twenty dollars a gallon, until the power lines went down and cell service went out and paying with a credit card didn’t really matter anymore. This far out into the country, when it’s been hours since you last saw anything but miles of prairie in every direction and the empty cassette ribbon of the I-80 cutting through the land, there’s a real possibility that the gas station and the accompanying convenience store might still be intact.

You pull into the parking lot. The windows are unbroken and the door is still chained shut — a good sign. You reach behind to grab the crowbar from the back seat, and when you twist back forward, you’re almost certain you catch a glimpse of Mingyu in the passenger seat. A flash of golden tan skin, of scruffy black hair, and you swear you could almost see his face, but when you turn around fully, the passenger seat is empty, save for the shotgun. And in an instant, you make the stupid decision to leave the car without bringing the gun. It’s quiet, you rationalize. There’s nobody out here. Nothing out here.

(In the days since he died, you think you’ve been hallucinating. You see the fuzzy figure of Mingyu in reflections, in shadows, in the staticky darkness when you close your eyes. Maybe it’s normal. After all, the two of you were always together, even before the pandemic. Since the first time he told you he loved you, this has been the longest time the two of you have been apart. Will be apart. Forever, you brain supplies unhelpfully.)

The door is easy to pry off its hinges, and the glass breaks but it doesn’t shatter. The inside of the convenience store is everything you had hoped for— dark, cobwebbed, but stocked full of mass-produced junk food filled with preservatives. They’re calories, artificially fortified with nutrients and chemical flavoring, meant to last for years on a shelf. Immediately, you head to where the granola bars are and begin to empty the shelves, filling your backpack in the process. Your mind is thinking ahead — this is more than enough food to last you the entire trip. This is enough to feed a couple of people for a few weeks. Is there food in Minghao’s settlement in California? How much should you take? Can all of this fit in your car? How many trips back and forth should you make?

Your stomach grumbles and you’re reminded that you’re hungry— it’s been a few days— so you take a Clif bar off the shelf and tear open the wrapper. You eat ravenously.

(Mingyu was always good at cooking. He knew how to make every soup imaginable, how to pull together the end of the month pantry staples and wilted produce and fill your tiny Brooklyn apartment with the smell of home. He knew how to fish, how to gut and clean the dirty little perch that he pulled from the Hudson, how to fry them over a fire to make them taste less like mud and more like food. How to build the fire so the smoke wouldn’t be seen, how to put it out so the embers wouldn’t give away your campsite.

You can’t cook. You’ve never had to learn, not with Mingyu by your side.)

Like your own shadow, little piece of Mingyu follow you as you make your way up and down the aisles. It’s just the hallucinations, you tell yourself. At the end of the cereal aisle, you stand still for a moment and stare at yourself in the fisheye reflection of the security mirror mounted on the ceiling. The store is dark, and the mirror is dusty. For a moment, you think you can see Mingyu standing next to you. You see him, tall, broad, alive, so beautiful he might be an angel.

It’s still breathlessly silent around you, however. You know Mingyu can’t be standing beside you, because the air around you feels empty. But there he is, in the blurry reflection of a convenience store security mirror. You blink, and he’s still there.

Suddenly, you begin to feel uneasy. He’s just another hallucination, isn’t he? The mirror is too blurry for you to get a good look at his face, and a large part of you doesn't want to see his face anyway. You're certain it’s him in the reflection. You could recognize him anywhere just from the way he stands. But something about his figure isn’t quite right.

You know what you need to do. You need to look to your side, where he’s standing in the mirror. You know, whatever it is you’re seeing, you need to just turn your head to the side and look to know what it is. Just look, it seems to tell you. I’m right here, Mingyu says.

You blink, and the Mingyu in the reflection is gone.

It’s just you, standing there in a dark convenience store, backpack open in your hands. And uneasily, you laugh. “Hey, Mingyu,” you say aloud. It’s been a week since you last said anything, and your voice sounds thin and reedy in your head. You don’t hear a response.

“Mingyu, wouldn’t it be fucked up if ghosts were real too?”

A few months ago, zombies were just something you’d see in a video game or TV show. Maybe it’s not a hallucination, but you’re not sure if that makes you feel better.

By the time you’re done raiding the convenience store, several trips back and forth to your car later, the back seat is stocked with all kinds of shelf-stable calorie-dense food. Like little luxuries, you made sure to leave some room for toilet paper, for shampoo and soap, for toothpaste, for a few boxes of instant coffee. You still need to fill up the two empty gas cans in the trunk, but first, you think you’ll use the bathrooms here.

The doors to the bathroom are on the outside of the building, and you find the keys hanging by the staff break room in the back of the store. It takes a few tries, but eventually the key turns in the lock and you’re able to push the heavy steel door open with your body weight.

As soon as the door closes behind you with a loud bang, you instantly get a bad feeling. Everything in your intuition is telling you to run. The bathroom is dark, save for one humming emergency light still illuminated overhead, and it’s completely silent. You exhale, and the sound bounces off the tiled walls and floors, whispering before settling back into that tense silence from a moment ago.

By the entrance, there are three sinks lined up in front of a large cracked mirror. You peer around the corner to see three stalls, each separated by a wall, with tall floor-to-ceiling doors that don’t leave even a centimeter of a gap between the wall. It’s still completely silent, but the persistent buzzing undercurrent of anxiety in your head is screaming at you— something isn’t right. You inch forward, skin prickling, and lightly push on the first door. It swings open. Then, you push on the third door, which also opens. You place your hand on the center door, and you can immediately tell that it’s locked.

But the bathroom is so, so quiet. Even when you stand still, glued to your spot in front of the stalls, and listen, you don’t hear anything. It’s empty, it has to be. You glance back over your shoulder at the wide mirror hanging over the sinks, and you half-expect to see Mingyu standing next to you again, but all you see is yourself—dirty, greasy, haggard— and the bathroom behind you. It’s empty.

Slowly and quietly, you walk past the center stall and enter the last one. There’s no toilet paper, but it doesn’t matter. You finish peeing and consider flushing the toilet. There’s probably still water in the tank. But something about creating all that noise doesn’t sit right with you, so you decide to forgo the last little bit of socialization clinging to your brain and exit the stall. You should probably wash your hands, you realize, so you step up to the sink and turn one of handles and, to your surprise, a stream of clean water dribbles out.

You put your hand under the water. It feels decadent. It feels like an unspeakable luxury, as you push on the soap dispenser and let some of the pink slime fall into your palm, as you lather it up into a foam. You scrub at your hands, trying your best to get out every last bit of dirt and blood embedded beneath your fingernails. And when your hands are rubbed raw but clean, you cup your hands and collect some water to rinse your face with. You wash your face with the same pink liquid soap you used to wash your hands, something you would be aghast at in another life, but now it practically feels like a spa day. Weeks of grime dissolving under your fingertips and swirling down the drain.

You shut off the water and reach for the paper towel dispenser. Maybe the bathroom really is empty and your instincts are all wrong. The door to the middle stall could be jammed, or it could have been locked by building staff before the pandemic even broke out. It would be stupid of you not to come back and fill a jug with clean water, no matter what your intuition says.

For a moment, you stand stock-still, just so you can get another gauge on the bathroom. The last bit of water leaves the sink drain and it’s silent again. You watch yourself in the mirror, hold your breath, try to sense even the tiniest shift in the air. It smells like Mingyu, you realize. Clean and soapy and warm. It’s the same scent his skin used to carry. Like he’s here, next to you.

The bathroom is silent.

Your reflection stares back at you. The overhead light casts harsh shadows over your face, leaving your eyes dark and empty.

The bathroom is silent.

Mingyu’s scent, but it’s not comforting at all. Not in the way you used to nudge your nose against his throat during lazy Sunday mornings and inhale his warmth. Not in the way you’d wear his hoodies and press your face against the lining.

The bathroom is silent. And then, with a click, the middle door unlocks.

[garbinge]

Graduation Day

Jax Teller & OC Joanne ‘Jo’ Teller / Opie Winston x OC Joanne Teller

Fic also includes: Gemma Teller, Clay Morrow, Bobby Munson, and Tig Trager

Summary: The eldest Teller sibling, Joanne Teller, graduates from college with some of the SOA boys and Teller-Morrow family in the audience to cheer her on.

Warnings: Light angst, but fluffy. All my fics are 18+ regardless of content.

Word Count: 2.8k words

A/N: A little slice of life fic for my girl Jo. A little prequel to Charming Life in a way but will still use that taglist!

Charming Life Taglist: @drabbles-mc @livingdeadblondequeen @justreblogginfics​

Jo knocked on Jax’s bedroom door, a small tote bag in her hand.

“Can I bother you?” Her voice wasn’t loud but neither a whisper either.

“Yea, come in.” Jax called out, clearly not eager to greet his older sister at his door. He clocked the bag in her hand immediately as she entered. “I thought I was supposed to be getting you something for graduation.” His smile was one that could earn him a punch to the face easily, and definitely has in the past.

Jo threw the tote onto his bed before leaning against his desk. “It’s just some things to keep you occupied during the ceremony tomorrow.”

Jax leaned over and grabbed the bag and looked through it. Mad libs, activity books, cards. His eyes looked up at Joanne. “I know I’m younger than you, but I’m not 5.”

Jo laughed before pushing off the desk she was leaning on and moved back towards the door. “Trust me, you’ll thank me tomorrow.” She went to close the door before peaking back in. “And I’m still expecting a graduation gift.”

_____________

Jax rolled over, his hand searching for something on his nightstand to tell him the time. 9:01.

“Fuuuuck.” He groaned before jumping out of bed and opening his bedroom door. His voice was calling out quickly. “Mom!” Silence. No one was home. He could have assumed that. The graduation started at 9, Gemma and Clay had probably left at 8, easily.

“Fuck.” Jax cursed again, thinking through what he was going to do. His bike was at Teller-Morrow, he was in the process of adjusting the suspension. Gemma and Clay probably took the escalade which left no way for him to get there.

His hands were quick to dial Opie, praying that he’d pick up this early. They were freshly 21 after all, so waking up before 1 in the afternoon was a rarity. But even though Jax might have started off his morning unlucky, things started to turn.

“Yea?” Opie answered, his voice groggy, probably just waking up.

“You wanna see Jo graduate?” Jax was multi-tasking as he spoke to Opie, moving around his room, picking up clothes from the ground looking for something presentable to wear to the graduation.

“What?” Opie perked up at that sentence, he might have been with Donna, loved her even, but a part of him would always be connected to Joanne Teller.

“I overslept, everyone’s gone, I got no ride and need to be at the Stockton Arena within the hour.” Jax threw his phone on the bed on speaker as he threw a flannel on.

“Alright, I’ll be at your place in 10.” Opie was doing the same thing as Jax now, scrambling to get ready.

“Aim for 5.” Jax said before hanging up and finishing getting ready. Throwing on cologne to cover whatever non-showered, stale cigarette smell he was giving off and then grabbing the black leather box that held the gift he had gotten his sister.

_______

Gemma looked over at the 5 empty seats to her right and then down at her watch. 9:35.

“They couldn’t be on time just this once.” She said under her breath to Clay.

“First, you drag me to this thing and now I gotta hear the complaints too.” Clay said, looking through the program booklet to occupy himself.

Gemma’s eyes rolled and before she could respond back to him, Bobby and Tig were making their way over to them, asking people to let them squeeze through as politely as possible for the two bikers.

“Hi, ‘scuse me, sorry, I love ya, congrats, ‘scuse me.” Tig said as he climbed over the last few people until he reached Clay who was at the end of the row.

“You’re late.” Clay gritted his teeth and spoke under his breath.

“Yea, Tig was indisposed.” Bobby spoke from behind Tig.

Gemma looked up and gave them both dirty looks before moving her legs over so they could take the seats next to them.

“She’s the one, Gem, tall, I’m talkin’ 5’11, easy, biiiiiiig rack.” Tig motioned to his chest to imitate breasts.

It earned a few dirty looks from the surrounding crowd who was trying to pay attention to the graduation.

“Just sit down.” Gemma waved them past.  Bobby plopped down next to Gemma and then Tig next to him.

“Did we miss it?” Tig asked, standing back up now looking at the group of graduates below him looking for Joanne. “Where is she? She decorate her cap with anything?” He pointed to his head as he looked through the rows for Joanne.

“Yea, she’s wearing red.” Clay sarcastically spoke.

Tig looked out and saw the sea full of graduates all in red caps and gowns and nodded before sitting down.

“You hear from Jax?” Bobby asked when he realized there were still empty seats.

“Yea, this morning when he was snoring.” Gemma said, staring at the Jumbotron waiting to see if her daughter popped up on the screen. Bobby snorted at Gemma’s answer.

“Who makes a graduation this early anyways.” Clay leaned over to Gemma.

Just as she was about to speak, Jax and Opie were right at the end of the row.

Opie was there, hair back in a bun, sporting a simple t-shirt and jeans, one hand had a graduation teddy bear in it and the other had a big bouquet of flowers.

Gemma was shocked not only to see Opie, but to see what he brought with him. Opie must have clocked it and spoke up. “Didn’t want to show up uninvited and empty handed, got some things at the stands outside.”

Gemma smiled, she was one of the few that could see Opie’s love for Jo over the years. “You can take Unser’s saved seat, don’t think the Chief woke up in time either.” Gemma moved her stare over to Jax. His hands moved up in innocence and his smile was growing.

“I need my beauty rest, what can I say.”

“Yea, save some for the rest of us you pretty motherfucker.” Tig smirked and greeted Jax as he made his way to the last two empty seats in the row.

Clay stared up at Opie, his brows furrowing, a little angry. The small bouquet of 10 flowers sat in his lap, his eyes moved to Opie’s bouquet, which held easily double the amount of flowers. Opie simply nodded and moved past him, making his way to the very last seat in the row.

“Did we miss it?” Jax asked leaning over to talk to his mom.

“No, apparently these things last hours. Not enough that they charge thousands in tuition but now they have to bore us to death for 4 hours.” She mumbled to her son who was taking out the handful of items Jo gifted him last night.

Bobby looked over at him with his face frowning in confusion until he realized what he was doing. He leaned over to whisper to Gemma. “Enjoy it while you can, not like your other kid is going to college.” He teased.

“You’re going outside the lines.” Tig leaned over and whispered to Jax.

“You’re crossing one.” Jax snapped backwards and pushed Tig away.

“Play nice children.” Bobby called down to them.

Time passed slowly, Clay managed to fall asleep, sunglasses on so no one really noticed. Gemma had contemplated moving to another seat in the arena while the other boys went back and forth but she powered through it.

“Bachelor of Arts? That’s Jo right? Business?” Jax leaned over and called out to Gemma.

“Yea, this is her.” Gemma stood up now, eager to see her daughter. There weren’t many moments in Jo’s life that she could count on her mom, she leaned more on her father and when he passed that void was never filled. Jax might have been the closest person Jo had from her family in her life but nothing could replace JT. But in this moment, Gemma was actually excited, and maybe one would even say proud. Jo knew it was probably more for Gemma than her but she’d accept it.

“Joanne Teller.” The announcer said over the microphone.

The whole row of them stood up and cheered.

Jax was practically frat boy howling, his voice was so loud that it would be a shock if half the arena didn’t hear him. Opie stood the most relaxed out of all of them, clapping but keeping his voice way lower than the rest of the crew.

Clay had clapped and whistled and Bobby matched him with his own whistle while Gemma clapped above her head.

“That’s it baby!!!!!” Tig yelled out as Joanne walked down the ramp and back to the hallway where the graduates all entered from.

Joanne looked up at her family and smiled, she was surprised to see everyone that came. She pointed towards the exit and mouthed a few words that no one really understood except Gemma.

“C’mon.” Gemma said, waving everyone back out on the other side of the row.

“Don’t we have to wait for them to throw up their hats and shit?” Jax frowned.

“You wanna wait for the 200 more kids that have to be announced?” Clay leaned over and asked Jax who turned to look at the large group of graduates that were left.

“Alright, yea.” He stepped out of the row behind Tig.

“Jo’s the one that mentioned it, she’s gonna meet us outside now.” Gemma said as the group of them trekked up the bleachers.

_________________

The Charming crew stood in front of the event center, near a fountain waiting for Jo to arrive except Opie, who had gone off to a kiosk close by to order a cup of coffee.

“They don’t make Irish coffees at graduation ceremonies, Winston.” Jo’s voice caused Opie to turn around quickly, coffee in one hand and graduation gifts in the other.

His smile grew as he saw her in her cap and gown, her one hand resting on her cap to balance it as she stood in front of him looking up.

“And I unfortunately didn’t sneak in any.” He stepped out of line so he was closer to the girl.

“I did.” She reached into her gown and into her dress pocket and pulled out a flask and poured it into his coffee cup before he could say another word.

“Well, uh, I’m driving so…” Opie extended his hand out, now offering the coffee to Jo who was getting red in embarrassment.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry I didn’t…” She began apologizing before Opie cut her off.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, truthfully it was just an excuse to get away from the group for a minute.” They both looked over to the group to see Tig staring at a statue of a woman very intently, Clay and Gemma arguing about something, Bobby downing a muffin from the other kiosk near them and Jax on the phone.

“Wait, driving? You drove here?” Jo said as she took in Opie’s words and her head snapped back to look at him.

“Uh,” Opie felt caught and didn’t know exactly what to say based on Jo’s tone.

“He overslept didn’t he?” She shook her head and looked back over at her younger brother. After a couple seconds she looked back at Opie, she wasn’t going to make him explain, he was a good friend not only to her brother but to her also.

“Those for me?” She grinned and nodded to the flowers and bear.

“Huh?” Opie fumbled, still a little nervous as a whole before looking down and coming to it. “Oh yea,” His hands extended forward and now the flowers and the bear were nestled in her arms. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks Ope,” Jo moved against his torso forcing an embrace on him that he was gladly willing to accept. “Glad you were here.”

The two of them walked over to everyone, Jo was showered with flowers and hugs and congratulations from everyone, even her mother who showed a rare act of appreciation towards her daughter.

“Got this for you.” Jax handed Joanne a black leather box.

She opened the box immediately and she felt her breath hitch.

“Took a piece of dad’s bike to get repurposed into a necklace. It’s not like expensive or anything but–”

“It’s perfect.” Jo cut him off, running a finger over the necklace.

The center of the necklace was the same teal blue as the bike, probably taken from a piece of the old gas tank, and what Jo assumed to be part of the old engine framed the outside of it.  There were small metal work details in it that framed the inside blue piece so perfectly. It was truly a piece of her dad with her on this special day.

“Jax this is,” Jo’s eyes widened as she shook her head. “I don’t know how I’ll ever top this.” She let out a laugh and looked at her younger brother.

“Well good thing I ain’t graduating college anytime soon.” He teased her. “Plus, everything you’ve done for me,” he shrugged, “I kinda owed you.”

Before either of them could continue their conversation, Gemma was interrupting them. It was divine timing and ironic how she knew the perfect time to interrupt.

“Alright, we’ll meet you back at the clubhouse, Bobby put together a little thing for you.” Gemma called out as she walked away with Clay, Bobby, and Tig.

Jax looked from Gemma back to Jo and changed the subject.

“Mom said you’re going home with Micky, so I’ll catch a ride back with them. Congrats!” He smiled at his sister and looked over at Opie, “and thanks, Ope!” Jax was talking as his legs sped up into a jog to catch up to the group, leaving Jo and Opie behind.

“I’ll, uh, let you ride back with Micky, see you back at the clubhouse.” Opie was about to walk away when Jo reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Micky actually,” Jo paused in her statement, embarrassed at what was about to come out of her mouth. “Micky isn’t here, we uh, broke up. But I didn’t tell anyone yet because well, you know how everyone gets.”

Opie wasn’t one to ask questions or pry, so he just simply nodded. “I parked around the corner, I’ll take you home so you can show up on your own, lessen the questions.” Opie said.

Jo let out a scoff, “That’ll never happen and you know it.”

Opie smiled to himself, because he knew it was true. Everyone at the clubhouse would ask questions no matter what. He went to say something to Jo, his head turning to look at her when he saw her holding out the teddy bear he had gotten her.

“This must’ve cost you a fortune, they always rip you off at these things.” She stared at the bear.

“I got a discount because of the lopsided eye.”

Jo laughed, “Gives him character. What should I name him?”

Opie looked at the bear and then at Jo and shrugged. No idea what to call the stuffed animal.

“Winnie. After the person who gifted him to me.” Jo beamed and held the bear out next to Opie.

“Not sure if I should be honored or offended.” Opie teased, pulling his one eye down to mimic the bear.

Jo pushed Opie, he might have towered over her, he always had and now that they were in their early 20’s nothing had changed, but she still was able to trip him up a bit which is when he let out a genuine laugh right before they approached the parking lot.

“$45 dollars for parking?!” Jo exclaimed looking at the sign at the entrance of the lot. “My graduation robbed you blind, I owe you.” Jo said to Opie. “Well Jax owes you more but I’ll collect for you and we can go out.” She teased.

He smiled and unlocked his truck for them both to get in, “Smart idea, look at that college degree paying off.”

“That was the first class I took, ‘how to ethically steal from your brother and reap the benefits with your friends.’”

Friends. It was one word but it gutted Opie. It shouldn’t have, he had Donna, but it did. Opie looked over at his passenger seat to see Jo, still in her gown but her cap now situated with the bear and assortment of flowers she received, her hand running over her hair to fix the flyaways and he thought that at least he got to be a part of her life. He’d take being her friend over nothing, especially if it meant getting to be a part of these big moments.