#i swear to god I didn’t catch his name for the first half of the movie and then i was like REN like the combination of kagmine len and rin?

[satoruhour]

POCKET P*SSY!

a/n: idk where this came from. tagging @nc-vb @papersirens @crysugu

wc: 2.8k

warnings: fem!reader, m! masturbation (two scenes), use of fleshlight, unspoken feelings, reader listening in on nanami, f! masturbation, brief clit stimulation & fingering, pet names, ambiguous ending, n*sfw under the cut

nanami kento was an organised, work-oriented man. he submits his sorcerer reports on time, he reports to work right at nine in the morning and clocks out at six o’ clock sharp, his office is prim and proper with all things where they should be and his (various) suits are always pressed and clean, smelling like sandalwood.

so why was the sight of you so compelling and striking that he swears he can hear his heartbeat through the freshly ironed blue button-up shirt? when you’d come to his office in the school to pass him his morning coffee — which wasn’t forced, you did find yourself heading to the café more and more — and the times when you’d engage in simple conversation with him about bread and gojo (negatively).

it was always a breeze to be around you, a fresh air from the intricacies of being a sorcerer. the violence, the bloodshed, the fatigue. but it’s so much of fresh air that sometimes he wonders why he chokes on his words and feels out of breath whenever he talks to you.

nanami has unwillingly checked his phone for the umpteenth time whilst doing his report, glancing over ever so often just to make sure you wouldn’t cancel on that friday drinking outing you proposed to go on with shoko. gojo was undeniably left out of the picture because of his tolerance and the two were the best drinkers in town, but he just wished he could work out the courage to ask you to be alone with you.

but nanami valued his sanity and heart. he wouldn’t know what he would do if he ever lost you to a curse even though you could hold your own, and the amount of sorcerers who are sent out just to die never deserved any of it. but if they didn’t do it, who will?

it’s question after question that’s mixed in with thoughts of you as he stays focused on the blinking cursor of the word document. appear. disappear. appear. disappear. nanami finds that he can’t think of anything else to say in this dumb report, staring blankly yet again at the annoying flickering cursor that reminds him that this was far from done. he glances down to the first drawer of his office table, the brass lock drawing him in. he thinks that he’s not ready.

just as he wants to type his next word with newfound determination, you’re barging through the door with a loud “nanami!”, a big grin plastered on your face with shoko under your arm, trying not to fall under your intoxicating happiness. god knows why you’re so happy, and if he didn’t know better he would think you were already drunk.

“she just got news that her holiday was approved,” shoko nods as she takes a drag from her cig, blowing the smoke into the office.

“please do not blow secondhand smoke into this room, shoko.” nanami’s monotonous voice cuts through the air like a knife and you would think it’s a reprimand, but both of you know the 7:3 sorcerer is just like that.

“why so boring . .” you tsk, a skip to your step when you round the table and peek at the work, and nanami has to ignore the bounce of your breasts under your outfit and the proximity in which you lowered yourself to. he tries to subtly take in your scent, not listening to your question under you wave a hand in front of him and nanami has to break away from his fantasy of you riding him while your tits bounced in his face. filthy.

“nanami? it’s already 6:02, i thought you violently rejected overtime?”

he clears his throat, catching the brief, sly glance of shoko before he turns to you, “y-yes. i do. just give me half n’ hour, ladies, and we can head over to the bar right after.” he didn’t even realise the clock had already striked 6.

shoko puffs out more smoke to nanami’s dismay, “what the hell do you need half n’ hour for?”

“just to clean up this report, promise.” he mutters, pushing up his reading glasses, “i’ll get it done as soon as possible.”

“oh? the great nanami kento doing overtime?” you giggle, reaching over to type a little cheeky “:)” into the word document before waving goodbye a little dazedly as you walk out behind shoko. the pace at which your heart raced matches the man inside at seeing him in his clear, dad glasses.

“you are down bad, girl.” 

“shush!” you swat at her arm and all she responds is with smoke in your face that she laughs and you just huff, heading off back to the morgue where she felt most at home.

nanami never did submit the report on time. he was given a reluctant extension. what was he doing? anything but the report, instead locking the door to his office and lying awkwardly on his office sofa, that was cleverly placed behind a partition wall. it took a bit of discipline — he typed a few words, deleted them, typed some more and realised they didn’t make sense and by now it’s 6:15. he takes one glance to the locked door and to the partition and down to his hard-on with that familiar feeling in his stomach. it’s been long since he’s jerked off, and sure, he has done it mindlessly just to calm the morning wood but it’s been long since he’s gotten aroused by someone.

the man palms himself through his pants, imagining it was your dainty hands instead, a soft groan leaving his lips at the feeling. his pants have never felt this tight, throbbing and just begging to be released as he slowly fishes it out. nanami was big, a pretty little curve to his cock with a tip that’s leaking pre-cum, and he strokes at it, a shaky breath leaving his mouth that it sounds pathetic. here he was, in his own office sofa fully clothed, with one leg digging into the floor and the other propped onto the armrest. 

“f-fuck . .” he swears lowly and starts setting a pace, conjuring up your face as you bob your head over his length while you play with yourself. “right there—”

nanami whines, unintelligible words muttered out as he pumped his cock. he spits into his palm and continues his ministrations with the most lewd noises that have never graced his office before. so many thoughts of you occupy his mind, you fucking yourself back onto him, how sweet your pussy would taste, the sort of sounds you’d make, how you’d feel around him — nanami cums with a quiet, strained groan, hips lifting off the sofa as he spurts his cum all over his suit, and he doesn’t care, too lost in the feeling as he squeezes his eyes shut. the idea of giving you a creampie sounds too good at the moment, how much cum he’d shoot into you, how he’ll watch it drip out—

“fuck my life.” he simply murmurs when he sees the translucent liquid settle in, and yet nanami doesn’t regret it one bit.

the next week is torment. it was particularly difficult, especially after the moodiness you possessed after getting one worded answers from nanami at the bar. he couldn’t even hold eye contact with you, how rude! he was also gone for quite a bit once, coming out of the bathroom all sweaty and out of breath and you wondered if he found a cursed spirit in the sketchy, dingy restroom of the club.

“relax. a thousand yen he’s just stressed out by . . external factors at the moment.”

“but he’s nanami! if anything, that man is internalising all that’s stressing him out,” you groaned into your hands, “also why are we betting on my love life?”

“it’s fun.” shoko defends herself with two hands when you point a finger at her; you go back to your sulking stage soon enough. she merely settles for a hand on your back. “but you’re not wrong. this is just, a little different.”

you only can sink further into your hands when you recall how nanami pulls uncomfortably at his tie, a distraught expression on his face when you asked if he wanted another round of drinks. the avoided eye contact, the conversation mainly existing between them, it was all you needed to know about his feelings of you. the coffees and hangouts meant nothing, and yet you were so clueless at how you’ve awoken something entirely new for nanami that he’s cumming thrice a day just at the thought of you.

another day, another report to fill in. he had dealt with a first-grade curse this time, the casualties, brutal and infrastructure was severely destroyed. it was going to be a hell of a word count, he notes, but what he doesn’t want happening, or rather, the unavoidable, happens. his mind drifts back to you again and everything that you stood for, of your blinding smile and kind gestures. you knew how he liked the right amount of sugar in his coffees and the right place to massage when his upper back was hurting. there was many times he was sure you both had crossed the line of co-workers and lovers, but it was never spoken or defined.

it was a grey area, he admits. tethering along the lines that he wasn’t even sure was there any more: a gaze held longer than usual, a brush of your hand on his, the not-so-secretive glance at your ass, the quick gaze from his eyes to his crotch when gojo makes a dirty joke. it was already between the lines, yet none of you wanted to act on it.

nanami groans into his hands, taking one more look to that locked drawer, thinking it would magically unlock itself and he wouldn’t have to go though the torture of submitting to his desires and unlocking it like a sex-crazed man in the victorian era after seeing a woman’s ankles. it was humbling. but his mind seems to have a different plan, descending into fantasies that he would rather take to the grave than let gojo pry out of him and he shoots up, fumbling for the key hidden under his documents.

within a second, nanami unlocks it and lets out a breath and takes out a box — a hilarious (at the time) but stupid, stupid thing (it was a fleshlight) he let gojo talk him into buying while they were both drunk. but the more he looks at it, the more he wishes to feel your walls around him and his bulge is not going down. he takes out the fleshlight eagerly, looking at it with wide eyes before he swallows and nanami feels like a teenager again.

his heart pounds when he removes his pants. his laptop, open with his undone report and him standing wide-stanced in front of his desk like a loser and his underwear pulled down just enough for his cock to spring up, you would think he was an alien from another planet. nanami does away with all rationale when he slaps his tip along the pocket pussy, thinking it was yours before his tip slips in and he gasps. the sorcerer stumbles forward and he has to rest a hand on his office chair.

“gojo, you fucking dick,” nanami hates that he’s enjoying it. “haah . . shit—” 

he pushes it down his shaft and the instant pleasure is prominent. soon, nanami is moving the fleshlight over his cock, walking with unplanned steps to the sofa. he falls into it easily, hands still pumping the device along his dick and he already wants to cum from the tightness.

“fuuck . . baby,” there are soft pants that leave his mouth, the device already filling up with all of his pre-cum. the slick noises that dominate the room is loud. nanami is too far gone in this, hips thrusting up into the fleshlight with all his might as he imagines it’s you straddling him instead. biting down on his fist does little, sure he was drawing blood from how hard he was sinking his teeth into the skin there. the way he slips inside feels so much better than his hand, and yet there was something missing — your sounds, the sight of your pussy. he needed to know he’s making you feel good. he cums with a cry of your name and mixed in profanities, pelvis basically rutting into the pussy as he shoots his load deep inside. 

and it doesn’t end there for nanami — like a deranged man, he’s grabbing his cushions and stuffing the pocket pussy in between it and the sofa, dragging his tip along the silicone clit. this shit was embarrassing, fucking something fake just so he can simulate the fantasy of being in you, but it felt fucking divine, so much so that the soft “nanami?” doesn’t even reach his ears. he reenters the pocket pussy, body hunched over the sofa as he presses down on the couch cushion and wishing it was your lower back.

the long, loud groan nanami lets out sends a straight chill to your core and you hear it before you see it. you think maybe your chances are ruined, he has someone else and the dancing around each other was done just for fun, but you think a little peek wouldn’t help. your self care sessions are getting a little boring anyway.

the gasp doesn’t reach his ears either when you glance around the partition and you get the sight of your life: nanami thrusting into the sofa while still fully clothed, eyes closed and expression pulled into pleasure. you’re torn between arousal, modesty and relief and despite all that you still listen out for how turned on he was, the gross, dirty sounds of him rutting into something and yet you don’t know what. but you decide to play it safe, flipping back around to rest your back against the walled partition, hand reaching up your skirt and into your panties.

“(y/n) . . baby, g’na cum—” 

your eyes widen, your jaw drops but your hand on your clit never stops, rubbing in time with his thrusts as your other hand is probably making marks on your face by how hard you were trying to stop your moans from coming out. you’re already so wet that your ministrations are all messy and smeared, drawing haphazard circles just for a taste of that high as you soak and soak your panties.

“baby, baby, baby . . o-oh—” you swear under your breath, because who knew nanami kento could sound so damn good? you’re continuing the assault on your pussy, going past your clit and into your entrance and you wish it was his cock instead, but instead he’s fucking a pocket pussy imagining it’s you. too bad you don’t know that. “gonna cum in y-you—”

there’s a little crack in his voice and you involuntarily let out a soft moan and the movements are halted all of a sudden. in your panic, your foot spreads and the bottom of your shoe grazes against the wooden floor and your presence is fully made known, now.

“hello?” man, what the fuck? now they’re really not going to answer. nanami sifts through the possibilities: it couldn’t be any of the men, they know not to interrupt nanami when he’s working. shoko would only for alcohol . . you? you dig a deeper grave by making an incoherent noise in your throat and that’s when nanami’s fear really settles in. he wasn’t hallucinating anything — there really was someone calling out to him the first time and the gasp and now the little moan? but nanami has anything but luck, not being able to catch the person because you’re booking it out of there immediately, not exactly quiet due to the clicks of your heels and you want to go back into that exact grave to die.

you can hear and feel your heart in your throat, back lined with sweat more than it would be when fighting a curse. whilst, there was only one thing on your mind that slowly induces you into a downward spiral; he called your name, your name, your god-given name, the people address you by, he called—

standing by the little zen garden of the tokyo school, you can feel your clit throb and the breath taken out of you as the vision replays again and again in your head and you think yourself stupid for running out of there. but before you can turn back, gojo’s approaching with a big, shit-eating grin on his face and waves to you (“yaga told me to come get you, you’re not busy, are you?”).

swallowing, all you can do is shake your head, but not before you spare a last glance to nanami’s door which is now closed shut. you hear a click.

[moneymasnn]

Who Had A Cookie?

Blurb: One where you're the f1 drivers manager, and when all the boys seem to have eaten a 'magic cookie' you're the one who needs to clean up all the mess.

Notes: I was inspired by the one greys anatomy episode lol but I thought this was a funny concept. This is also my first fic I’ve posted in 6 months!! I found it in my drafts and decided to post! Enjoy xx

Warnings: well mention of drugs, might be some swearing but other than that nothing lol Platonic!reader x f1 drivers and a little bit of reader x Charles leclerc

Who had the cookies?

You loved charity events, especially f1 charity events. You loved your job for giving you the opportunity to attend these events. A very easy night if you say so yourself, babysitting twenty grown men, what could go wrong? Especially when cameras and fancy investors are around they behave all on their own, leaving you to relax, and indulge in some free champagne.

“Y/n.” your name was mumbled behind you, startling you as your attention now shifted to your assistant.

You knew something was wrong by the way she was twiddling her fingers, her black nails contrast to her white dress as she brings her left index nail up to hold between her teeth.

“Jenny? Spit it out.” You stood up straight, urging your assistant.

She stands up straight as if she's trying to muster up some sort of courage, she looks around before she leans in closer to you, you can almost hear her shaky breaths.

“There were some cookies… and erm, well they were placed in the drivers dressing room, and I don’t know how they got there. I mean, I certainly didn’t sign them off so this is no way my fault and-“ she was talking a mile a minute you couldn't even understand her.

“Jenny!” You took her hands that were waving in the air and bought them back down to her chest.

“Take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong?” you said sternly. 

“Don’t fire me… please.” You could see the tears brimming in her eyes, but the anticipation was killing you, you windened your eyes and stayed quiet so she could carry on.

“There were compromised cookies gifted to the driver's dressing room.”

“And?”

“And- and now the tin is empty, as in they've all gone. The cookies have been eaten y/n. Cannabis cookies.”

Your hands ran to your mouth as your eyes immediately darted around the room to look for anything out of the ordinary.

The room was spinning as you whipped your neck around in different directions.

George russel was the first to catch your attention.

He looked fine…he was leaning against a wall, chewing…

He was chewing on a cookie.

“Oh my god.” You started to push through the crowd of people in the hall.

“George! Drop that cookie!”

George’s eyes lit up when he saw you, one of his many managers. You could see the cookie crumbs falling from his mouth as he smiled, chocolate smudged around the corners of his lips.

“Y/n, you have to try these cookies!” He desperately said, holding up his half eaten cookie. But much to his dismay you slapped it out of his hand, letting it fall right to the floor. George’s lips downturned and your name fell in a groan from his lips as he looked at his cookie on the floor.

“Spit.” You held your hand out, as gross as it was.

“I will not!” He sassed you as you pointed your finger at him, eyebrows furring trying to be as intimidating to the six foot man as possible. George sent you one of his signature smirks as he swallowed the mouthful of cookie in one large gulp.

“George, those are not regular cookies-“

“Tell me about it! Send from the heavens.” he smiled, almost robotic, like the smile didn't reach his eyes.

Your own eyes widened as you realised one of your clients was stoned.

Completely and utterly stoned.

You were fucked.

You could feel Jenny breathe behind you, she let out a small giggle at George's actions causing you to turn and scowl at her.

“Grab him and take him to the dressing room, and don’t let him talk to anyone. lock him in there and then come back to help me gather anyone else who had had a cookie.”

She nodded as she grabbed George’s arm, telling him they were going on an adventure, George happily complying.

You sighed as you looked for anyone else.

You were at a very high class charity gala in Monaco. This night was about to be ruined and you were about to be fired for letting your drivers get out of control and well, high.

You decided making an announcement on the stage was your best bet, walking through the crowds of people you felt someone grab your arm.

“Y/n!” Lando Norris. 

He giggled as he said your name. Making him repeat himself.

“Y/nnnnnn.” He covered his mouth to stop the giggles. “Sorry, just, why does your name sound so weird?”

You had to try so hard to keep your face straight at the boy's child like giggles.

“Why are you laughing like that?” Carlos walked over, playing his arm over his wobbly ex teammate.

“Carlos!” you and lando both said in unison.

“Your hair is so soft, like fur.” Lando said as his hands made their way into Carlos's long brown locks. Carlos eyes widen as he looks at the boy then back at you, trying to pull Landos hands out of his hair.

“Carlos, did you have a cookie?” You eyed up the Spaniard.

“What cookie?” He frowned at you.

“Ugh, thank god! Landos had a erm.” You leaned into him so no one around would hear, “Some of the drivers have eaten cannabis laced cookies.”

Carlos’ head turned as he looked back at Lando, eyes widening.

“Take him back to the dressing room please, just lock him in there with George, and if you see anyone else take them with you.” 

Carlos just nodded, letting his mate lean on him as he dragged him to the back of the room.

You let out a sigh of relief, that was three out of a possible twenty.

Only seventeen more to find.

You walked up to the stage, grabbing the mic, tapping it slightly.

“Hello, everyone. I hope everyone is having a good night, erm, could all formula one drivers that have eaten a cookie this afternoon please meet back in the dressing room, important meeting. Thank you.” You smiled at the crowd, you could hear the whispers as you stopped off the stage. 

“Y/n?” 

Max. 

“I had a cookie, and I don't feel too good, like - like i'm not here, i've been over there.” He pointed to the corner of the room, “and I thought I was dreaming y/n. I dont know whats happening to me?” He looked panicked as he clutched onto your upper arm.

“You're okay max, you had some magic cookies.”

“Magic cookies?”

“Just come with me okay?”

He nodded his head vigorously as he followed you though the crows, clutched to your hand like a toddler. 

You noticed Daniel on the way, opting to grab him too.

“Danny!”

“Hello.” he had, in a very nonchalant tone, unlike his bubbly self. He was definitely stoned.

“Are you okay?”

“I feel great.” he smiled, but his eyes didn't quite catch up to him.

You grabbed his arm and dragged him along with max.

“Y/n? Where are we going?” Max asked anxiously.

“To sit down.”

You dragged them both into the room, when you got in there you could see George sat curled up on the window seal, lance was sat back against the wall staring at the floor. Seb was giggling at Mick who had all of a sudden become hyper aware of his body, saying he could feel his ‘skin’.

Pierre was touching his face in the mirror while Yuki was at the snack table. 

You let out a relieved sigh as Jenny had managed to capture some of the drivers, a few turning up after hearing your announcement. 

“Okay boys go play.” You pushed Daniel and Max into the room. 

“Dan, dan, danny, daniel.” Pierre called Daniel over to the mirror. “Why don't I look like me?” Pierre asked daniel. 

Pierre gasped and turned to a very relaxed Daniel, placing his hands on his shoulders.

“Daniel, do you think I look weird?” Panicked. 

“Coolllll.” Daniel replied as he smiled straight though pierre.

“You're right, I'm too cool to care.” Pierre nodded and turned back to the mirror to straighten out his shirt.

“This room is full of some very… high men.” Seb looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“Seb? Please tell me-”

“I didn't. Don't worry. I'm watching my weight.” he winked at you. “I'm happy to look after these guys while you get the others?”

You replied a quick thank you as you quickly shut the door, bolting back into the hall. Then you realised, opening the door back open and peering through, 

Where were Lando and carlos?

You rushed back out, looking down the bottom of the hallway, choosing to search the rest of the building, you came to the fire escape stairs where you found a curled up charles rocking back and forward. 

“Charlie?” you gently called out as you crouched down next to him, placing a hand on his knee.

“Y/n?” He quietly replied. 

“It's me, it's just me. How are you feeling?” you gently asked him.

“I- i don't know, i've never felt like this before.” He said raising his head, his eyes bloodshot and skin pale, he had a cookie.

You smiled at him as you brushed his fallen hair back from his forehead.

“You're going to be alright, come with me okay?”

You pulled him up to his feet where he looked down at you, sniffing before a little smile climbed his face.

“You're so pretty y/n.” You giggled at the boy as you took his hand and made your way down the steps to the drivers room.

“Like a princess.” he added, his hands waving in the air.

“Thank you, charlie.” you giggled.

“Charlie,” he smiled, “have i ever told you how much i love it when you call me that, charlie.” he smiled and repeated the nickname again, leaning his head on your shoulder as you both made your way down the stairs.

Charles lightly sighed as you pushed him into the drivers room, “Where are you going?” Charles whispered, pulling on your arm.

“I'll be back in five minutes okay, Seb will look after you.”

Charles nodded his head to look for seb, you both grimace when you saw mick with his head in the trash can, seb rubbing his back as pierre and yuki giggle at him in the corner. 

You walked back out the room when Jenny was running up to you, “Y/n! Huge problem, Carlos and Lando are on the stage!”

Ou barge past her and walk into the room to see Carlos with a mic in his hand, Lando leaning into him in fits of laughter.

“All I'm saying is, I race really fast cars, like that's super cool, right? There's only twenty of us that do that. So cool, im so cool, im a cool guy.'' Carlos giggled as he spoke about himself on stage.

“You could die? I could die? Imagine that! The world would be so sad, my smooth operator.” Lando giggled at the nickname and then started to sing. 

And before you knew it they were two verses deep into smooth operator, Carlos opting to show off his opera skills at one point. 

You jumped on the stage taking the mic out of Carlos' hands and putting your hand over it so you could whisper shout in his ear, “You said you didn't have any cookies!”

Carlos snickered as he looked at Lando who gasped and held his hand over his mouth.

“You lied to y/n?” Lando giggled. “Oh man you're in so much trouble.” Landos face dropped as he leaned into carlos’ face, “she looks mad, we should probably run.”

Carlos nodded along with the boy when you grabbed both of their arms, “Nope. No more running, you're coming with me.”

Carlos shook his head like a caught child and both men giggled as you pushed them off the stage, apologising to the crowd before handing the mic back to the dj. 

“Y/n!”

You sighed as your name was called for about the fifth time that night, this time though, it was serious.

Zac Brown made his way over to the three of you, a scowl on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. Lando straightened his posture as Carlos crossed his arms and impersonated Zac, Lando caught onto this and all of a sudden the boys were in crying fits of laughter again. You winced as Landos cackle echoed through the hall, catching the attention of people around.

“What. The. Hell?”

“I can explain.” you winced at the man.

“What is going on here?” He eyed up his driver and ex driver, who he presumed had too much to drink.

“They're high. Someone laced some cookies and I'm so sorry, I have the situation under wraps, they won't be a problem anymore.”

But when Zac started to laugh along you realised maybe it wasn't just some of the drivers who had had some cookies.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” You grabbed Zac as well as Lando and Carlos and dragged them back to the dressing room.

“Y/n, Your back!” Charles made his way over to you, engulfing you into a hug.

“Y/ns back!” Max screamed as he fell off the sofa, plunging his way into your arms along with charles.

“Hey get off her, she's my manager!” Max shoved Charles hand that was loosely placed on your shoulder. 

“She's mine too!”

While the two men started to fight over your attention you scanned the drivers that were in the room. Jenny had managed to catch the majority and even some of the drivers that weren't high had opted to help.

Max shoved Charles in hopes he would let go of you, instead causing you to stumble back into the arms of someone else.

“Okay okay, we get it, she's pretty but you're suffocating her, and she won't be very pretty when she's dead on the floor.” a spanish accent can be heard behind you. 

Fernando unwrapped both men as they both started to profusely apologise about ‘nearly killing you.’

You rubbed your hand over your head after smiling at Fernando in a thank you as he sent Charles and Max to the food table.

“You look stressed.” he said with a smirk as you both watched the men in the room.

“I need a cookie.” you joked, your eyes on mick who was still throwing up.

“I could always make you some.” he shrugged.

You laughed at the man before your eyes widened in realisation, you turned to him, face like thunder, “You!”

He threw his hands up in the air, “In my defence i didn't mean for anyone to eat them. It was a total accident.”

Your mouth agape you turned to look at the Spaniard ready to scream every curse word you know. He sensed your anger, “it was an honest mistake y/n, trust me. You think I would have wasted all of them cookies on these people on purpose.”

Your eyes darted daggers and Fernando understood you were really mad, in an attempt to lighten the mood he pointed at Yuki and Pierre who were having the time of their lives giggling like two school girls in the corner.

“You have to admit, it is kinda funny,” he said.

A smile crept on your face as you giggled, it was kinda funny.

Yours and Fernandos giggling soon stopped when you saw Max and Checo arguing in the corner.

“I think Max is about to punch Checo for taking the last slice of pizza.” you said.

“Shit.”

[leossmoonn]

mike schmidt trying to flirt with you is a like a car crash. it’s so bad, but you’re intrigued.

he happens to be sitting next to you at abby’s yearly pediatrician check up. she’s sitting at one of the little tables in the lobby coloring while mike’s waiting for the nurse to call abby in. he can’t help but notice the absolute beauty sitting next to him. you’re flipping mindlessly through a magazine, looking up and sighing every so often as your wait time increases.

“terrible time management here, right?” mike asks. you glance over at him, his eyes nervously flickering from you to the wall. you don’t say anything, not sure if he was speaking to you or himself. mike sita up in his chair, trying to look more confident this time.

“terrible time management, right?” he asks again. “i swear every time we’re here, it takes half a day just for a little check up.”

“yeah,” you agree. “it doesn’t help that it’s always busy.”

mike hums in agreement, thinking of what to say next. god, he’s so dumb and helpless. was it really this hard to flirt, much less talk? he looks over at you, trying to catch something that he could say. perhaps maybe you’re wearing something he can compliment? or there’s something in your magazine that’s also interesting to him?

“do you have a staring problem or something?” you break him out of his thoughts. he looks into your eyes, his heart slipping a beat. “i… uh… no. i… just like looking at interesting things.” he rushes out.

you raise your brows. “i’m an interesting thing?” he wants to kick himself. “no! i mean, yes. what i meant to say was i like staring at beautiful… people.” he watches as your lips upturn, but you work to keep it in a straight line. god, now he just wants to someone to run him over with a semi. “i didn’t mean that either,” he’s quick to say.

“oh, so i’m not beautiful?” you scoff, can’t help but feeling a little amused. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him cute as well. you thought about saying something to him, but you’re glad you didn’t. if you did, you’d miss whatever this is.

his eyes widen and he wishes the nurses would call abby’s name. “yes! yes, you are very beautiful. i’m just uh… well.. i-i’m mike.”

“it’s nice to meet you, mike,” you say. you look back at your magazine, not really reading any of the words now.

“are you here with your, uh, kid?” mike asks. “yes,” you say at first. “well, she’s not mine. she’s my niece. my sister and her husband are out of town and i get to babysit her.”

you swear you hear mike say “thank god”.

“what about you? is that your little girl over there?” you point to abby who is sharing her crayons with another kid.

“yeah, but she’s my little sister,” he says. “ah, how sweet. she looks like a nice kid,” you say.

“she is. so, uh, do you live around here?” mike asks.

you stifle a giggle and nod. “i do.”

“oh, awesome!” he exclaims like he just won the lottery. you look at him again and he calms down, laughing awkwardly. “yeah, that’s cool. i mean, obviously you live here. or maybe you don’t. it would make sense. you’re babysitting, so —”

“josie hutchins?” a nurse calls out. “that’s me,” you say. you fold up the magazine and place it on the table next to you. mike looks so sad, like he just witness a puppy die. “ah, okay. nice talking to you.”

“you, too,” you smile sweetly, taking your neice by the hand. as you walk away, a little folded up piece of paper from your coat.

“h-hey! you forgot this,” mike says, but you’re already gone. he picks it up, choking on his own spit once he reads your number on the paper. you must’ve wrote it down while mike was blabbering like an idiot.

“abby schmidt?” a nurse calls out. mike shoots up from his spot, making sure to slide the piece of paper in his pocket for safe keeping.

[mint-yooxgi]

That Kids, Is How I Met Your Father - Seonghwa X Reader

Part of the CODN Summer Event - See You On The Flip Side

Genre: Mature, Angst, Crack, Fluff, Non-idol!AU

Pairing: Seonghwa X GN!Reader

Words: 2,700

Rating: T for Teen

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, but really it's a really funny misunderstanding, a gun!, mature themes, not edited, I'll do that laterrrrr so please excuse any errors

A/n: Since the event was announced and I saw the first prompt, this has been living in my head rent free lmaooo I had way too much fun writing this, so I hope you all like it as well! It's not meant to be taken too seriously, so just have fun when reading it! At least, I hope you will! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: You seem to have the most rotten luck when it comes to chatting up strangers... and asking them for help...

Prompt: Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss.

You have no idea how you got here. Perhaps it’s your penchant for excitement, or maybe even your love of adventure. However, if anyone would have told you that you’d be in this situation, you would have laughed in their face… followed promptly by an excited, yet curious, ‘really?’

Honestly, you can’t be mad. He is rather cute, and he did go along with it to start.

That’s what happens when you trust a stranger.

You had seen your ex across the park with their new fling walking hand in hand. Or, rather, the person they had been seeing the whole time while you had supposedly been in a relationship with them. Seeing them out looking so joyous had something within you twisting unpleasantly, and if they could look so happy being together and away from you, then so could you.

Looking around the park, you had done a quick scan of the area. Weeding out potential dangers, you finally zeroed in on your target. A man with shaggy black hair half tied up in a ponytail. He appeared to be alone, and the fact that he was crouched by the pond chatting with the ducks had an immediate good feeling towards him building within your gut.

Without a moment to waste, you ran over to him.

“Hi, I know this is really sudden, but could you do me a huge favour?” Your words come out rushed, cheeks heating as you avert your gaze to the side.

Unfortunately for you, your gaze caught on your ex and their now partner rounding the closest bend and getting even closer to where you were standing.

You didn’t even give the man time to respond. All you did know, was that he had stood back to his feet beside you, his beauty captivating you the moment you turned to meet his curiously quirked brow.

“Great, thanks.” You say, offering him a tight smile.

The sound of laughter meets your ears, and you immediately find yourself stepping closer into this mystery man’s side.

A call of your name draws your attention to the side.

“Oh, hey, Colin,” you grin, chuckling awkwardly as you meet his gaze. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Well, we were just out for an afternoon stroll through the park, and I couldn’t help but notice you with-“

“Oh, excuse me,” the man beside you clears his throat, extending his hand out towards Colin. You fail to see the pointed look he shoots your ex’s now partner. “Where are my manners? My name is Seonghwa.”

You swear you see Colin’s partner stiffen beside him, their eyes catching on a large silver and black ring on the duck watcher’s - Seonghwa’s - hand.

“So, how long have you and Seonghwa been together-“

“Well, it was great seeing you!” You cut their words off eagerly, a tight smile painting your lips. 

Grabbing Seonghwa’s hand in your own, you pull him down the path and in the opposite direction of the two of them a bit frantically. You need to get away from an even more awkward conversation than what had already been started mere minutes ago.

“This was a dumb idea.” You keep muttering over and over to yourself as you drag him along. “God- how could I have been so stupid?”

You fail to see the curious quirk of the man’s brow trudging behind you.

Taking a quick look around, you manage to rush across the street and into a side alleyway. It’s a bit secluded, but you could use the space right now. Especially after seeing your ex again.

It takes you a full minute to realize that you’re still holding this mystery man’s hand.

“Should I even ask?” His amused voice greets your ears.

Instantly, you drop his hand, beginning to pace.

“All this time I thought I was over doing stupid things like this to get his attention, but no!” You drawl out that last word, shaking your head. “I just had to go and drag a random stranger into it instead of walking away. God, that was probably so uncomfortable for you. I’m so sorry!” You turn to him, your eyebrows drooping. “You probably think I’m some crazy person obsessed with their ex, or something. I promise you I’m not!”

Your words start rising in pitch, voice taking on a more frantic tone.

“I’m just…. upset at how happy they look after what they did-“ you take a sharp breath in. “And you probably don’t even care, oh my god. Here I am ranting to a literal stranger over my old relationship problems after dragging him across the street.”

The corner of Seonghwa’s lips quirk, resting his one shoulder against the brick wall of the alleyway casually. His eyes continue to track your every movement, amusement dancing within his gaze as he listens to you rant like he’s not even there.

After a few more minutes of you seemingly working yourself up, he cannot help but chuckle, “You know, there’s not many people brave enough to do what you just did.”

This seems to halt you right in your tracks.

You blink, turning to face him fully, and noticing how he’s still been here this whole time.

“To be fair, I thought you would have bolted the moment I dragged you into this alleyway.”

“You’re blocking the only exit.” The grin he wears only widens, watching as your eyes seem to dart everywhere but towards him now.

“Oh.” You laugh awkwardly. “So, I am.”

He says nothing in response, simply continuing to watch you in amusement as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Well, then…” you clear your throat, stepping pointedly to the side. “I won’t keep you any longer.”

His grin only stretches wider across his face. “You sure about that?”

“Well, unless you want to hear all about the relationship struggles of a stranger, I won’t hold you hostage any longer.” You motion for him to walk passed with your hand, signifying his freedom.

“Believe me,” he pushes himself off of the wall, yet opts to stand directly across from you still with his arms crossed. “If I had wanted to escape, there is no way you could have held me here.”

To say you are taken back by his bluntness would be a great understatement.

“Oh?” Your brows raise, an expression of disbelief coating your features. “I mean, it’s not like I was being forceful!”

“On the contrary,” he chuckles, his eyes dancing in amusement. “I had no other choice than to follow you after you had grabbed my hand.”

“Well, I highly doubt you couldn’t have just pulled your hand free-“

“But then what would have our dear Colin have thought?” He hums, tilting his head slightly. “Would have been so scandalous for a couple to act so repulsed of one another.”

“I said I was sorry!” Your shoulders deflate. “You seemed like the best option in the park at the time and I took a chance! You’re the one who went along with it.”

“I’m not so heartless that I would leave someone in clear distress.” His words come out a little sharper than before, and you notice his eyes seem to harden for a moment.

You recoil slightly, blinking at him in disbelief. “I never said that you were.”

He holds your gaze, his jaw ticking. His shoulders seem tense.

“Well, thanks for your help, oh, great kung fu master,” you say, bowing dramatically with an arm across your chest while the other extends out towards the opening of the alleyway. “My apologies if I disturbed your duck whispering rituals.”

Seonghwa takes a moment to observe you, his head tilting curiously. A blink, and you have yet to come up from your mockery of a bow, which only causes a huff of disbelief to escape him through his nose.

“You really have no idea who I am, do you?”

You lift your head, brow furrowed. “Should I?”

Your response clearly catches him off guard. So much so, that he drops his arms to his side.

“Are you some celebrity that I don’t know about?” You shake your head, attempting to place if you’ve seen him on a talk show, or in headlines recently.

This time, the disbelief is clear on his face. “You’ve got to be shitting me…”

“I assure you, sir,” you reply pointedly, “that if I had any idea who you were, I most likely would not have approached the least intimidating stranger making animal crossing sounds at the ducks.”

His mouth falls open, eyes widening as he attempts to refute your statement.

“It was rather sweet, if I’m being honest with myself-“

A blink, and suddenly he has you pinned to the wall of the alleyway. His hands hold tightly to your shoulders, pressing you harshly against the brick as his dark eyes meet your own.

“You need to forget everything you saw, and, or heard today.” He says firmly, his lips curling over his teeth.

“Woah,” you attempt to lift your hands in a shrug, but at the way he pushes you firmer into the wall, his body now pressed against your own, you grimace. “Didn’t realize being human was a sin.”

“You don’t understand-“

“Oh, I don’t understand?” You nod once, slowly, your eyes wide. “Because I’m pretty sure this has taken quite a turn from what we both expected from the other.”

“You don’t realize how dangerous I can be-“

“Is this supposed to be some kind of bad boy act, because it really could use some work-“

“It’s not an act!”

“Oh, really?” You quirk a brow, the corner of your lips quirking. “Then, is that a gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?”

The man before you lets out a long sigh, his head dropping as he takes a step away from you. His hands move almost too fast for you to see, but at the sleek black object that he pulls out, your eyes nearly bulge from your head.

“A gun!” 

“Keep your goddamn voice down,” Seonghwa hisses, tucking the object into the back waistband of his jeans. “I told you I wasn’t fucking around.”

However, you’re not even paying attention anymore.

“Oh my god, I’m going to die….” You’re mumbling again, blinking rapidly as you lean against the wall for support. “Stupid, stupid, stupid trying to enlist help from a stranger. A stranger with a gun, no less…” You smile tightly, looking like you may let out a shriek of disbelief at any second. “I’m gonna be kidnapped, and my cats will have no one to take care of them-“

“I’m not going to kidnap you.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He goes to reach for you in attempts to calm you down, but you recoil, causing him to immediately back down. “Your cats won’t be orphaned. Relax.”

“But you have a gun!” You whisper harshly, as if it should be obvious why he is a sudden threat to you.

“Hey, if anyone is the kidnap victim here, it’s me.” He hums, that same look of amusement back in his eyes.

“I didn’t-“

“I’ve already had to tell my personal guards to stand down twice since you’ve whisked me away-“

“I was about to knee you in the balls!” 

“Yeah, you definitely would have been shot for that.” He states, rather casually at that.

The look of horror that paints your features is near comical at this point.

He blinks. “You’re not going to be shot-“

“I’m too young to die! I still have my whole life ahead of me!” You begin to wail dramatically.

“You’re not going to die.” He sighs, shaking his head lightly in amusement.

“Says the man with the gun!” You flail your hands, motioning to him with wide eyes. “I knew celebrities valued their privacy, but threats are a whole different ball game.”

“I guess you could call me somewhat of a celebrity.” He shrugs casually, seeming to bask in the idea.

“You, sir, need to sort out your priorities.” You deadpan.

“Says the person freaking out about getting shot by a gun I already put away.” He counters. “Believe me, if I had wanted you dead, you would have been by now.”

“Well, that just makes me feel loads better!” You throw your hands in the air in exasperation. “You certainly know how to pick someone up at the park.”

“You kidnapped me!” He replies, just as exasperatedly.

“I thought you said you’d have no trouble getting away if that were the case.” You simper, nose in the air as you cross your arms over your chest.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as he takes you in. Then, the most startling sound escapes him since the beginning of your encounter with this mystery duck whisperer.

He laughs. Not a small chuckle, or puff of amusement. A loud, boisterous laugh which echoes off of the bricks of the alleyway as he nearly doubles over.

“God, I haven’t had this much fun since Joong shattered the duplicate blood ruby we were supposed to use to pull off the Mont Blanc heist.” Seonghwa straightens, attempting to catch his breath as he wipes at the corner of his eyes.

You blink, his words seeming to trigger a memory inside of your mind. Curiously, you tilt your head as flashes of breaking news bulletins flit through your mind, your mouth falling open in disbelief. You hand lifts, shaking lightly as you point a finger at him.

“You’re the leader of the notorious Hala gang?” Your eyes go wide, stunned disbelief painting your features. That is, until a shrill laugh is leaving your lips.

Now, it’s your turn to double over in laughter.

“You- you’re the-“ More peels of laughter escape you, hunching over to rest your hands on your knees.

“What’s so hard to believe?” He quirks a brow, seemingly amused by your reaction currently.

“You were making animal crossing noises at the ducks!” Your lips quirk upwards in the corners. “The big, bad, scary Hala boss spends his free time at the pond, cooing to the ducks!”

“Well, we all need hobbies other than murder sometimes.” He shrugs, as if this is the most normal conversation to be having.

“Right,” you drawl out, shooting him a sceptical look. “And diamonds aren’t a girl’s best friend. Or, well, in this case, blood diamonds.”

“Actually, it was a ruby. But, fair enough,” he chuckles, his eyes shining as he stares at you across from him.

“Oh, pardon me,” you roll your eyes playfully. “We can’t all be versed in the world of jewels and gemstones.”

He takes a brief moment to observe you, seemingly coming to a decision. The corner of his lips twitches upwards.

“Would you like to be?”

His question clearly catches you off guard, and you nearly go tumbling over your own two feet as you push yourself off of the wall. “Excuse me?”

“Well, seeing as you’ve separated me from my lovely ducklings, and kidnapped me against my will…” he hums, closing the distance between the two of you carefully. “I think it’s only fair that we do something to my benefit this evening. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Almost as soon as he finishes speaking, he offers you his arm. A soft smile tugs at his lips, that glimmer of amusement shining once more within his dark eyes. He holds no aura of intimidation around him, nor does he seem to have any intent of harming you for the moment. Still, you cannot help but to eye him cautiously.

Your gaze flicks from his arm to his face, studying him carefully. Your brow quirks, and you cannot deny the spark of excitement that kindles within you as you gently place your hand on his arm.

“If my cats are suddenly orphaned cause I’m dead in a ditch somewhere…”

“Believe me, Darling,” Seonghwa chuckles lowly, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear as he leans into you. He lightly tugs you in closer as you both exit the alleyway, ensuring that you’re pressed right against his side. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be begging to stay.”

[writingsfromhome]

If you Love Something

A/N: this has been an idea sitting in my drafts for a while. You and Harry had a brief but intense relationship as teenagers, were forced to make a serious decision then, and it’s aftereffects have lingered for the rest of your lives. It deals with some heavier topics so read with caution (alcoholism, depression, unwanted pregnancy etc). I’d describe it as sad but hopeful.

Part 2

—————————————

Age 17.

It started in secret. We’d found each other on the roof of a house party. Truth be told, I saw him sneak out of the window where people were crowded around the TV watching some controversial music video I hadn’t heard about. And I’d followed.

I knew who Harry was. Had him in English, Maths, and Biology last year. He was well spoken, thoughtful, and silly. I never spoke to him once though. Only admired him from afar.

Tonight I had my first drink and then another. I was feeling buzzed and despite being painfully shy for most of the time I’d known everyone here, I was suddenly gripped by the realization that we were approaching the last year we would all be together. Why had I waited this long to pursue someone I thought was cute?

I snuck out after him, when my friends weren’t looking. I even tilted the window more closed than usual so no one would suspect anything; I had the attic room at home so I knew how to maneuver the angled roof to get comfortable.

“You need any help?” Harry’s voice is clear in the silence.

“I’m alright.” I stand up to peer at him. He’s climbed near the top.

“Sure? You don’t seem steady.”

“Oh I’m steady,” I prove it to him by climbing up to where he was. “See?”

“I’m mistaken. My bad.” He holds out a hand to help me sit beside him and the night sky flashes brighter for an instant when I grasp his hand. My stomach is in knots.

“Harry. Styles.” I don’t know why I say his full name but I was nervous.

He repeats my full name back to me. I don’t know why I’m surprised he knows it. It’s not like we went to a big school.

“What brings you out here?”

I try to be bold about it, “You?”

“Party was getting too much.” He says. I stare at him in confusion while he complains about something his friends had gotten up to.

I replay my answer and realized it sounded like I’d skipped answering his question and asked the question back. Bugger.

“You know my name.” I interrupt him, forgetting he was telling me a story. Awkward.

“Yeah? Of course I do.”

“We’ve never talked.”

“We talked. Once in Maths. We had to grade each other’s answers.”

Oh yeah. I burn when I remember the 4/10 he’d given me with a smiley face saying that maths was masochistic.

“Barely.”

“I know you though,” he says with a softness that makes my heart stutter.

“Do you?” I look to him, resting my chin on my shoulder. He gazes down at me and I swear I could taste the colours around us.

His eyes draw me deeper as he inches closer. Was he going to kiss me? Oh my god.

I look back out to the roof and he jerks away. Omg.

“I do.”

“Oh,” I don’t know what to do after that awkward moment.

“I know you’re really quiet and shy but your smile is so loud you can see it from across the room.” He says and my breath catches as he continues. “You’re yourself with your friends, you really like Harry Potter and field hockey. You would kill Mal Adams if you could get away with it and you hate Maths just as much as you love art. You’re dating Oli Graves but your smile is only ever shining half as bright when you’re around him. Can I go on?”

I stop breathing completely halfway through his declaration of knowing me. All this time I had my eye on him, I didn’t know he was watching me too.

“I didn’t ask you for your opinion on my relationship.”

“You didn’t. I didn’t give you one either.”

I glare at him. He was right. He smiles knowing he was. I’m mad that I’m not mad at him. That he was right.

“What are you doing with a guy like that?”

Oli and I had been dating for 7 months now. He was loud and fun in a way I wish I could be. That’s why I liked him so much. That’s why I was at a party like this to begin with.

“He’s a good guy.”

“That’s all?” He asks. I look over but he’s looking up at the sky. I follow his gaze and get lost in the great expanse of nighttime.

“I think you deserve someone who sees you. Don’t you?”

“Did Ally see you?” I ask with a hint of aggression I didn’t mean to have.

“Ally and I broke up during Easter. So there’s your answer.” He’s unbothered.

“Well what do you want?” I ask.

“Right now? Or in life?”

I shrug. “Both?”

“I want to explore the world and meet all kinds of people. I wanna make the world a better place by being in it. It’s cheesy as shit so if you ever said I said this I’ll deny it and you’ll look like-“

“My lips are sealed.” I turn his way to promise him that. It makes me laugh at how serious he looks saying it all and when I do his face relaxes.

“You laugh is nice too. I forgot to mention that.”

That quiets me very quickly.

“And right now,” he continues. “I’d really like to kiss you.”

My ears ring. Did I hear him right? Could you get so drunk you hallucinate? I swear the cold air had sobered me-

“Did you hear what I said?” Harry’s moved in closer to me. Did I? I don’t know.

“What d-“

“I’d like to kiss you.”

I nod, afraid to talk and realize I’d hallucinated him saying that.

The world melts away when he kisses me. It’s tender, nothing like Oli and his jagged pushy kissing. In the nighttime air it’s warm, and soft, and easy.

“I know you,” Harry says when we part. I’d nearly climbed into his lap and I try to edge away, embarrassed, but he keeps a hand firm on my thigh.

“I know you too Harry,” I breathe. He smiles and it crinkles his luscious eyes.

I think I was falling.

***

We keep it a secret after I break up with Oli. For months, until mid-August when I invite him over for dinner after my mom insists on meeting “the boy I was all doe-eyed over”. The night with my family goes so well—Harry is the picture of a courteous gentleman that even my sister is swayed by him despite saying boys were gross. I ask him to hang out, in public, the next day. He doesn’t hesitate to say yes.

That’s what I love about Harry—yes love. He’s not pushy, he lets me go at my own pace. He respects me and sees me for everything I am and loves me anyway. I wanted to spend my whole life with him.

It was so intense and relaxed at the same time. It felt like no relationship I’d been in before. I felt different being with him, even my friends noticed.

When final year started, Harry and I were official but we didn’t flaunt it. We didn’t need to. My friends knew about us and they were happy for us, they told me I was more me. Whatever that meant.

Life was phenomenal and I was living in a dusky haze. Nothing could touch us.

Until one day in February. I was out with my sister, mum didn’t want to take her out and since I recently got my driver’s license with plenty of lessons from Harry, I was driving her to the mall. She needed Valentine’s Day cards.

“I thought you said love is stupid.” I remind her on the way.

“It is.”

“So why the hell am I driving you to buy cards for a made up holiday?”

“Because!” She crosses her arms and stares out the window. I flick her arm at a red light.

“You have a crush.”

“I do not!”

“Do too. Who is it? James? Mattie? Hamid?”

“Ew! They’re freaks.” My sister continues staring out the window.

“Why do you want to buy cards so bad!?”

“I just want them! For my friends!”

“Okay then,” I didn’t believe her. But I couldn’t bring her home crying or mum would ground me.

A lot of places have slim pickings. Wandering the aisle of Waterstones I catch sight of a family friend. She was my dad’s uni friend’s daughter, a few years older than me but by the time I got to secondary she had dropped out after getting pregnant. I remember the buzz when everyone found out.

I avoid her and find an aisle to occupy myself.

Harry and I were always careful, mum had already given me the talk and he never pressured me to do anything I didn’t. I imagine Harry as a dad. He would make a good one I think.

As one thought leads to another I go cold as I realize something. My last period was during the holidays.

I feel like I’m walking in a swarm of locusts as I walk to the edge of the aisle, scanning for my sister. Maybe I can pop into a pharmacy before she’s done. Maybe…

This was crazy. It was probably just a missed period.

But if it isn’t, another voice asks. I felt it in my gut. I had to do this.

I don’t remember getting home. I don’t remember anything about the rest of that day except two faint lines, and then two faint lines again, and a third time. I fall asleep before dinner that night and shut the world out.

***

“I know something’s wrong.” Harry’s walking me home after school. It’s Valentine’s Day and he’d been nothing but sweet. He bought me chocolates, flowers, and we planned to cook dinner together after school. I had bought him chocolates too, and had written him a heartfelt note with a bunch of photos of us weeks ago. The box was in my room, waiting for tonight. “Do you not like the flowers? Or is it dinner? We can go out somewhere instead?”

“No everything’s lovely.” I’d never heard Harry this desperate before. It gets under my skin even though part of me knows that’s not really it. But having him hover over me all week trying to figure out what was wrong was too much.

I’d spent every night this week with a hand over my belly. Thinking about it. I hadn’t told anyone. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. All I can think of was Jenny and I didn’t want that life. I couldn’t. I couldn’t be a mother.

“Please. What’s the matter.” Harry asks again, tugging at my hands but I pull them away.

“I just need some space!” I shout and he flinches. “I’m sorry Harry. I just need space right now.”

“Right now like…” he scratches his head. “I don’t get you. It’s Valentine’s Day, we’ve been talking about this day for weeks what do you mean you want space?”

“I can’t do this right now. Please.”

“Are you-are we…”

“I’m not breaking up with you.” I look at Harry with tears in my eyes, I didn’t want to cry out here. But every time I look at him I remember the reality. What’s growing inside me. I can’t take it. “I just can’t do today.”

I go inside my house. Leave him without further explanation. I feel awful, I can’t hold the tears in long enough to get to my room.

***

“Hey love?” My mum and dad knock on my door at half past 5. I lay in the dark, having cried myself dry. “We’re worried about you. Can we talk.”

“I can’t.” I say, voice stuffy.

“I thought you and that boyfriend of yours had plans,” dad says. He liked Harry but he rarely called him by his name. “Did something happen?”

“No!” I wanted them to leave me alone. “I just. I had to cancel. I’m fine.”

“Don’t sound fine to me love,” I feel the mattress dip as mum sits down. Dad strokes my hair. They whisper something I can’t hear and a pair of footsteps pad out of my room.

“Mum just leave me alone.” I try again.

“I’m not.” She pushes me further into my bed and leans down, tugging my blanket down. When I finally look at her she smiles kindly and kisses my forehead. That fills me up enough to start wailing again. “Oh love, what’s wrong?”

“Everything!” I sob into my blanket. Mom lays down beside me and I let myself be cradled like a child. God, I had a child. This was so fucked.

“Talk to me. We can figure it out together.”

I don’t know how my parents would react. They were never particularly strict, especially after what happened with Jenny I remember them always being sympathetic. We even visited her in hospital with a gift.

Mum strokes my hair and whispers that it’ll be okay. Slowly my sobbing eases into light sniffles. I had to tell her. She would know what to do. And if she hated me for it, I would just have to deal with it.

“Mum don’t be mad-“

“I won’t honey I-“

“No. Mum.” I cut her off. She moves back on the pillow so she can see my whole face, moving a strand of hair so I couldn’t hide. “Something…messed up. Happened. And…I was careful. We were always careful I don’t know what happened but I-“

I watch her face changed. Like she knew. She knew what was coming but she waits patiently as I muster up the courage to say the words that felt too real once I said them.

“Mum I’m…I’m pregnant.”

Her eyes fill with tears and she bites her lip. What was she thinking? Was she crying for me or with me? Why wasn’t she saying anything!?

“Mum-“

“C’mere.” She wraps me in her embrace again and kisses the top of my head. My body feels drained and limp. I finally told somebody. It was real. This living thing inside of me was real.

“What happened?” She asks next. And I tell her what I think happened. When. How I found out. She listens, holding my hand in hers. When I’m done and it’s poured out of me she smiles supportively. “This isn’t a bad thing okay? It’s okay. Any decision you make is up to you. I’ll talk to your dad but just know you call the shots okay? I love you.”

This is what carries me. The love.

She asks me it I told Harry yet and I tell her the truth. She urges me to tell him. I tell her I wanted to so bad but I was scared.

She leaves shortly after that, I hear her talking softly outside my room. Nobody calls me for dinner until 7, a soft knock on my door. My sister would never be so soft, I assume it’s dad so I tell him to come in. I was scared to face him.

It’s Harry instead.

“Harry!” I cover my splotchy face with my blanket, why was he here? Did mum invite him? This was soo embarrassing.

My heart pounds and Harry is silent until he takes a seat where mum had previously been.

“I came over, your mum invited me. She explained.”

She did what? For a moment I feel betrayed.

“She said you weren’t doing so well. Stressed? I could make you some tea if you’d like. But I told you y/n, you’ll get into unis. You don’t have to worry so…”

I sigh. Mum had told him a half-truth. But he had come. Of course he had.

I couldn’t even think about uni right now because that lead me down a road of what if I couldn’t go because I had a baby. And that life felt so bleak it made me depressed.

“Harry.” I inch my blanket down a little and his eyes go round when he looks at me.

“You look…awful.”

“I know.” I cover my face with my hair but he brushes it away and kisses my forehead.

“No. I’m worried about you. I brought dinner-“

“Oh Harry.” I spot the bag he brought with him.

“I made it all for us. With my mum’s help but mostly me. I packed it to bring to you.”

I didn’t deserve him. And I had to tell him. And he was going to break up with me. What high school boy wanted a child?

“Harry it’s not uni.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I was carrying another living thing. It was the size of a seed but I was carrying it inside me. Like a living breathing pot. I was a potted plant.

“Then what is it?” His brows crinkle. “Is it us?”

“No!” I rush to tell him. “I…I don’t know how to say this. And I don’t know how you’re going to react but it’s okay either way.”

“What are you talking about?” His hands slide up my lap. “What is it?”

“Harry. I’m um, I’m pregnant.”

I watch him freeze and stay exactly how he is, his brows pinch ever so slightly. I knew this look. He looked still on the outside but his mind was racing. And I was scared what was racing through it.

“Pregnant?”

“Yeah. From…the holidays.”

“How did-I thought we-“

“I guess it’s not foolproof.” I whisper. Mum had told me to go on the pill, and I hadn’t listened because all my friends told me it made them gain weight. If only I had listened. Now I was gaining weight anyway.

“What are we going to do?” He asks next. And I never realized six little words could weigh the world. If I could cut those words out and surgically implant them into my heart I would. Just to remind me the equal parts relieved and comforted they made me.

I hold his face in my hands, new tears springing to my eyes. He was in this. With me.

He kisses me and pulls me into a hug. I cry into his shirt again and he holds me so tight I swear I could break.

“I don’t know if I can keep it Harry,” I finally whisper to him.

His hands fist in my shirt, he holds his breath and after a long minute he lets me go with it.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Was he really okay with all this?

“It’s…I can’t make you keep it.”

“You’d want to keep it?” I couldn’t believe it.

“It’s…” he swallows his sentence and keeps his gaze on my stomach. I tug his hand and lay it over it. When his eyes meet mine I see a hint of heartbreak. We were going to break our hearts either way I think.

Not once did I think he might want to keep it.

“It’s okay.” Harry finally says. “We’re so young right? How would we keep a baby and go to school, and do everything we always talk about?”

“Yeah I don’t…I don’t know.”

“I love you.” He says with such a sudden passion. I wrap my arms around his and return the sentiment.

Eventually we lay down and just talk about everything. Truthfully, my head was telling me not to keep the baby but everything else felt dead thinking about it.

Maybe that’s why it took me until April to finally make a decision. It was the size of a plum by then, and a tiny bump was starting to show but only when I stood naked in front of the mirror. With clothes on, nobody was the wiser. But the longer I kept it, I think the more Harry fell in love with it. The idea of it.

We have a long talk during our Easter holiday. We talked in my bedroom until the sun comes up. I tell him I was sure of my decision.

I’d gotten accepted to Cambridge by then. Harry was staying in London. We knew it wasn’t feasible. To live the life we always wanted, we had to get rid of this new life we never knew could happen.

I don’t know why but I don’t tell him the day I go to do it. I go with my mum. Mum drops my sister off at school—she didn’t know. Mum said she had a big mouth.

We drive in silence. When we park mum asks how I feel.

“Sad.” It was the truth. I knew this was right. But it felt like shite.

“Yeah.” She rubs my hands. “Want to go in?”

“I just want to sit here for a bit.” I tell her.

“Okay. I’ll go sign you in.”

She takes my purse and hers and leaves me there. I take the moment to ground myself. Say goodbye to the other future.

When mum knocks on my window I jump.

“Yn? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah yeah I’m coming in.” I open the door.

“You know you’ve been sitting here half hour?”

I pause, one leg out the door and one still in. “I…I must have got lost in my head. Sorry mum-“

“Look. Do you want to do this?”

“I don’t know…I have to.”

“There are other options love-“

“But how can I give it up and live my whole life like that?”

“We can help raise her. You can go on and live your life-“

“I’d be a horrible mother.” Mum and I had this row so many times before. It always ended in me storming away but I couldn’t here.

“You don’t need to make the decision today.”

“But I do.” I tell her. “Otherwise it’ll drive me insane.”

I tuck both feet back into the car and rest my hand on my belly. I’d allowed myself to do that only in my room, when I was alone. Doing it out here made it feel even more real. Suddenly I couldn’t imagine going through with the decision.

“I can’t do this.” I tell my mum.

She smooths my hair down and kisses my temple. My door closes and a few seconds later she climbs in beside me.

“Think about it.”

“I can’t. But I can’t keep it either.”

“Okay.” Mum pulls me into her and I think I should cry but I can’t. I’m calm, maybe I know I’d made the right decision. Or just a decision. I was going to stick to this.

“I can’t raise it. I’m just a child I…maybe someone out there wants a baby and can’t have one maybe-“

“I’ll look into it for you.” Mum promises. “You set the rules remember?”

And that’s how it goes. Mum looks into it, we decide to go for adoption. We go to the hospital on the first warm day of the year. By then I’d taken to wearing jumpers over flowy dresses and been thankful for the first time in my life that I wasn’t skinny like other girls. At most angles you couldn’t tell my belly was so perfectly round.

By then too, Harry had accepted the decision. He seemed relieved. Thinking aloud he’d said maybe he could raise it, but quickly turned around when I asked him what he’d do about uni.

“Someone out there can take care of it better than us. Someone will love the baby like we do.”

During the summer, I tell all my friends I was staying with family in midlands. And I do go up there, that’s where the couple who was adopting lived. Harry and I meet them with my mum and his. It’s awkward, we run out of conversation fast. But their house is big and they already have a 2 year old from an adoption last year. My baby was going to be loved here. And have a sibling.

“We did want to discuss one last thing,” they’d said before we left. We all listen intently. “We…find it best when it’s a no contact adoption. We’ve had a lot of friends who keep contact open and it gets messy-“

“What?” I hadn’t really thought about this until now. Hearing I’d have to give the baby up and go on like it didn’t exist felt wrong. Harry’s hand slips into mine.

“This is typical,” Harry’s mum says from his side. “Let’s hear it out.”

“Right. So just to prevent future complications, we do no contact. Of course when baby’s older and wants to seek out the real parents we can’t stop them. But until then…”

“Thank you.” My mum steps in when it goes silent. I could hardly wrap my head around what they were saying. When it gets older?

Pretty soon mum is ushering me out and Harry’s hand is still clutching mine. We don’t let go until we reach my Uncle’s where we were staying until August. The baby was due in September. I was going to miss the first week of class.

“I can’t do this.” I tell them later. “How can we just have no contact.”

“I thought you knew.” Mum says. “I explained that some parents want this when they adopt.”

She might have. Ever since I hit the third trimester like my doctor said, I’ve had a hard time listening and understanding what someone was saying after they spoke too long. I was glad school was done—for obvious reasons, but also for not having to sit in a class and learn.

“We have no other choice.” Harry says from beside me. He rubs my back and slowly, I zone back into the conversation. “We can find another family but they might want the same thing.”

“What if the baby never looks for us?” I turn to him, our heads press against the other’s. “What if we go our whole lives just wondering?”

“What’s the other option?” Harry whispers. He was right. I just didn’t want to get it.

Acceptance slowly creeps into me over the course of the summer. It was always hot carrying another person around, I was always hungry and thirsty, and very cranky. Harry came up to see me every other weekend when he could, mum stayed with me and that summer was one I could never forget.

It was September 1st, a particularly hot day. Rain fell in the afternoon and by the time the unforgiving sun set, the cool air was heavenly.

I sat by the bedroom window, moisturizing my belly like mum had shown me, talking to the baby. I wrote it a letter last week all about me, that I loved them and hoped the best for them. I told the baby about my family, how Harry and I met, and then I sealed it in an envelope with a picture of Harry and me. It was taken last Halloween when we’d both dressed up as each other. I tell mum to give it to the new parents. In case the day came the baby wondered about who we were.

As I spoke softly, I felt a gush of something wet down my leg.

“What?” I stand up, confused. “I…”

It takes me a second. I was going into labour.

“Mum!” I shout. “Mum! Come here!”

She rushes in and confirms it. It was happening.

“But it’s supposed to be next week!” I try not to panic but that’s all I can do as mum grabs our things and my aunt rushes to the car. “Does this mean something’s wrong? Is the baby o-“

I freeze as a contraction forces me to fold. I’d felt the kicking and the nausea and everything in between but these. These were a bitch.

Somehow we make it to hospital. Somehow I lay on a bed and push when the doctor tells me to. I nearly pass out. I just wanted Harry here with me. He didn’t know his kid was being born.

With a final push that felt like I was ascending my body and leaving it behind, I hear a wail and I cry. The baby was out, they cried and everything was okay.

“Okay congratulations mummy,” a nurse crouches down to me. “We’re going to clean you and baby up. She’s healthy and looks okay.”

“What?” I can barely see with my hair in my face and the nurses around me. It was a she? I had a baby girl?

We were never told the gender, so we wouldn’t get attached. But I had a baby girl. The nurse just called me mum.

I feel the tears on my cheeks, I was crying too. I try to look around me but a new nurse is talking in hushed voices to the doctor.

“…outside…call…adoption…shouldn’t or….contact-“

“What’s going on?” I can barely get the words out. “What?”

“Oh my love,” suddenly mum’s in the room and things are a bit better. A bit better.

“Mum what’s going on?”

“The baby’s born. The parents are outside they’re going to meet her soon.”

“What?” I look at mum’s face and it’s shining with tears. Why was she crying?

“Oh she’s beautiful love, she’s perfect. But your job’s done now. You should rest.”

“Mum,” I cry. “Where is she? Can’t I hold her?”

“No love,” mum moves my hair out of my face. I feel something break in half inside of me. I couldn’t even hold the baby? The baby girl? Mine and Harry’s baby girl?

“Why? Mum why? I just want to see her-“

“I’m sorry,” mum says through tears. “It’s just the way it is. She’s going to a loving home okay? She’s good. You’re okay.”

I can’t stop crying. I was going to lose her last April and I stopped that but I lost her anyway. My baby, I was never going to see her.

I remember when my sister was born. I was 5 and I was angry she’d taken the attention away. But when I saw her with her perfect toes and angel face I was obsessed with her. I even remember her first steps, she’d taken them at a park with mum and dad and me together. I was never going to know these things about my own baby. I was never going to know her.

I must pass out soon after. I remember waking up to the nurses instructing me about something. I’m half asleep and barely remember what I did when I get up. When I do wake it’s morning and there’s a figure on the chair beside me.

“You’re up.”

Harry. Relief washes over me knowing he’s here.

“Harry they took her,” I tell him.

“I know. I know yn.”

I move aside and he crawls into bed with me. I must look disgusting but he watches me with love brimming in his eyes. I can tell he’s been crying.

“I feel empty,” I whisper. Like someone had carved me out like a pumpkin. Something I’d had with me all year was gone. “How can I just move on? Start uni and all that when I…they just took her.”

“I keep thinking that.” Harry says. “Khalil invited me to a party to meet some blokes from uni and I just sat in my car the whole time. I couldn’t even go in. She…she was never going to be ours.”

“I feel awful.” I burrow into his neck as he strokes my hair. “A baby girl.”

“A baby girl,” Harry echoes.

***

I head to uni a week later. My body still feels like it fought a war and lost. It’s like it still thinks there’s a baby there. I produce milk for a few days, continue to have contractions, my belly is saggier than usual and I can’t stop crying about everything.

My dad drops me off to uni. He tells me he was proud of me, that I was always his baby girl. I cry then just like I cried at home when I said bye to mum, or when my sister hugged me which she never does. I can’t stop crying.

When I move into my dorm I feel like a completely different person than I thought I was going to be. My dormmate fills me in on everything she’s learned, complains about a boy and a party and it just feels so irrelevant to me. Did I used to care about those things? I had a baby. And now I didn’t.

By October, Harry and I are in different worlds. We hadn’t broken up but we talk weekly. Each week there’s less to talk about. When I visit home in October, being around him just makes me sad. He tries to cheer me up, make it like old times, but I know he’s hurting inside too.

I decide to do the breaking up. And at first he’s angry, insisting we could make it work. He actually refuses and walks away. We don’t talk for a whole day.

But at a house party in South where his uni mates were from, he accepts the end.

Through tears we kiss each other one final time, we whisper sweet nothings, we pour into each other all the hopes and wishes we had for each other.

When he hugs me for the last time I leave something behind. It’s similar to waking up the morning after my delivery and knowing something was gone. I really feel the shape of the loss. It sits in my sternum, a hole that grows smaller with time, but not just yet.

I fall into a depressed state for most of my first semester but my dormmate doesn’t give up on me and eventually I go to my first uni party. Eventually my brain fog clears and I actually go to all my classes. Eventually my life, on the outside, looks like it could be back to normal but inside I ache with the loss. So much that it becomes part of me. I don’t know where it ends, and I begin. It lives in me.

Age 23.

“The first of many hey?” Mal clinks his bottle to mine. I barely knew Mal but we were both friends with Khalil and therefore both at his stag.

“Before you know it we’re all going down,” one of Khalil’s friends joins in. “Stag after stag, suit after suit, it’s gonna be a blur man.”

“Let’s enjoy it while we can!” Someone cheers and everyone raises their beers. I toast with a smile; blokes loved to act like being in a relationship was the last thing they wanted when I knew most of them were mush in their girlfriend’s hands.

I also smile knowing I bought an engagement ring a few weeks back. I wanted to propose to Shannon, we met on her 22 when a friend invited me along. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the birthday girl. We’d been together since.

“Who do you think’s next?” The bets start going and nobody bets on me. Everyone always thought Shan was too good for me, they were counting on us breaking up. I was going to prove them all wrong.

The night gets sloppier until we all head back to the air bnb we’d rented for this. Tomorrow we were all supposed to go play golf like we were cosplaying old money bastards when we all knew we were just broke blokes from East. But I guaranteed they’d all be too hungover. We would get to the club and just drink the hangovers away.

And I’m right. I update Shan that I’m right when the boys stay in the dining area of the club. They decide on lunch and I step out to talk to my girlfriend.

“No birds allowed this weekend,” someone pipes in when I excuse myself.

“That’s just cuz you’re miserable Eli.” I brush past as the boys laugh. At me. And him.

I catch up with Shan. It was a bright day for September and I stay a little longer after the phone ends. Shan was in med school, she was always stressed or sleep deprived. I tried to support her the best I could—right now she needed moral support that she was going to get an internship she was applying for.

“Mummy doesn’t like when I have sweets,” a small voice says to my left. I look at a father with his daughter. He’s crouched down zipping her sweater up while she rambles on.

“Well it’s going to be our secret.” The dad says. “Sundays are for sweets aren’t they?”

“I love sweets.” She responds.

The father catches my eye and I shoot him a smile.

“Her mum’s going to hear every detail when we get home,” he says as he stands. “Can’t keep a secret to save her life.”

I laugh. The way she was rambling on, I didn’t think so. “How old’s she?”

“6.” He says, smiling down at her fondly. My heart aches.

“Almost 7.” She corrects her dad.

“Birthday’s in the spring.” He says more to me. “But almost 7 sure.”

I see them leave with one more shared smile, like we’re in on something. I imagine that’s how it would feel to be a parent. Always knowing something your kid doesn’t.

My daughter was 6. Wherever she was.

Thinking about the daughter I never had, the girl I lost always leaves me a little winded. Today’s no different.

Yn and I both made an agreement and it had been the hardest thing I’d done. Letting her go. It took me a proper year to even think about moving on.

I liked to think about yn, doing everything she wanted to do. But when I thought about the baby I spiralled into a dark pit. Sometimes when I drank too much, it pulled me in too deep to get out of. That’s what Shan liked to call my depressive drinking. She’s limited me to 3 drinks since.

Before I go in I take a minute to think about yn, where she might be. I hear from friends in high school random facts about her life. But I wonder how she’s doing. If she thinks about our baby like I do. How life would have been if I’d been here, calling her on the phone instead, asking if our baby girl was doing alright.

Age 29.

I stare at the nape of the man in front of me. It couldn’t be, but I’d memorized the back of his head—amongst other things, nearly 2 decades ago and I would bet £1000 I knew who this was. But I continue staring until the cashier rings him up.

In the same voice I remember, the one from my memories and my fantasies, I hear him say: “debit.”

I wait for him to pay before saying, “Harry?”

He turns so quickly he drops his card, wallet, and keys.

“Hi!” I laugh awkwardly and crouch down to help him pick his things up. There’s an awareness that the people in the queue behind me are witness to a moment that feels more intimate than a grocery store chat and it makes me shrink a little in my shell like a spooked turtle.

“Hi I-uh,” Harry short-circuits in front of me as the bored cashier holds his receipt out and stares at him with eyes that have worked one shift too many.

“I’ll just bag-“

“Yeah we can talk later.” I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile but it feels watery. I couldn’t believe of all the places I’d run into him, it was a grocery queue. How intense in such a mundane place.

As I watch my total rise on screen I risk a glance at Harry. His hand hovers over a white reusable bag, I wonder if that was his. Or his wife’s. If they did their weekly shop in a mismatch of bags that looked like that or they were the type of couple to have a set.

His eyes are on me though, somehow here and not here. I feel the same way.

I look back to the cashier asking me how I was paying. She glances between Harry and I. I don’t look back at him. Or the growing queue a few feet away.

I take my groceries—just some items my mum asked me to pick up, and stuff them into the tote I’m wearing. Harry waits for me by the exit.

“Hi.” He says as his eyes scan my face. I do the same, taking in all the ways time had spent with him. It must have been good—he looked good. “I can’t believe-“

“A Whole Foods of all places.” I laugh. A grin splits his face but his eyes stay on me.

“That smile, that laugh. God I’ve missed you.”

“I…missed you too.” How I could miss someone I’d known for one year and then never again for nearly two decades…I didn’t realize it was possible until now.

“Are you busy?” He asks. “Maybe we can grab a drink or?”

“I don’t…drink.” I hated that I had to announce it to people. I was still at the stage where I was figuring out how to say it confidently, or find a way around saying it.

“Oh.” Harry glances down at my belly and I realize he’d misunderstood but it’s too unspoken to correct him. “Cafe?”

“Yeah. That sounds lovely.” Honestly going anywhere with him sounded lovely right now. I wanted to cancel all my plans for the day and just sit with him. Stare at him and catch up. I couldn’t believe he was here.

We walk in a comfortable but waiting silence, like taking a cold drink out to a park with the anticipation it’s going to be good , and no desperation to open it as soon as you get it.

“Usual? Tea?” Harry asks when we step into a nearby cafe. It’s big for a cafe but has enough students working on laptops to not feel empty. I nod, unsure how to feel that Harry still knows what I order at a cafe. Or that my order hasn’t changed since 17.

I find us a booth and pretty soon he’s sliding into the seat across from me. The two of us can’t stop smiling.

“Hi,” he says again.

“Hi…”

“You look good, the same but better.”

“I was going to say the same thing about you!” I exclaim. More smiling.

“How’s…I mean, how are you? How is everything? What-“

“There’s so much to ask-“

“I don’t even know how to ask what I want to know!” Harry laughs and I’m warmed from the inside out at the sound of it.

“This shouldn’t be hard!”

“No.” He scrubs his face. “I’m really buzzing that we’ve run into each other.”

“Me too. It’s a bit unbelievable.”

“I know.” He continues gripping his cup and not taking his eyes off of me. It’s the exact way he used to look at me when we were teenagers. It nearly takes my breath away. “You look good—but I already said that. Sorry.”

“No,” I laugh. “That’s all that’s running through my head.”

“Oh—I remember hearing you were engaged a few years ago-“

“Yeah.” I turn my hand so he can see the ring. “Married now. You?”

“Yeah,” he looks down at his own hand. He had so many rings on I couldn’t tell from a glance. “Coming up to 5 years now.”

“Wow. It’s only 1.5 for me but Tatum and I—my husband, we’d been since uni.”

“Took him a while.”

“Mhm,” it had been a sore subject way back then. Harry says it casually but he studies my face. I know he wants to ask more but he’ll politely maneuver around it.

“Are you happy?”

I let out a breath. “That’s more complicated than anything else you could ask!”

“Is it?”

“Yeah I-“ I shrug. “I don’t know if I am. But I also have no idea what I could do about it. So. There’s that.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” My stomach curdles with his words. I didn’t want pity, least of all from Harry. Harry. I can’t believe he was here. “I get it though. Everyone says your 30s are even more glorious than your 20s. We’ll see soon enough if they’re right.”

I meet his eye, they always intimidated me to look too long into. Even now, I glance back down at my drink. When I look up again he has a wry smile twisting his lips. He knew.

I was sorry to hear life hadn’t been as good for him. And then I understand, it wasn’t pity he was giving me. He truly was sorry like I.

I thought about Harry often. Of course I did. I liked to imagine him living out his dreams like he always talked about. I liked to imagine him happy and thriving.

“Do you ever think about us?” I have to ask. “If we did it all differently?”

“We would have had a 12 year old with us.”

Hearing him say it feels like someone had taken a screwdriver and opened me up. Raw and exposed. But looking at him I know he thought about her as much as I had. Both of us were apparently mourning a future neither of us had fought for.

“Yeah,” I breathe but I just sound winded.

“We were trying, at one point—Shan and I.” Harry fiddles with his ring. “Did all the tests and the trials and the shite. But no kids. It put a real strain on my relationship. I think we cracked instead of bending. And I don’t think either of us know how to make it right again.”

I grasp his hand and squeeze. “I know what that’s like. It’s hard. I…a couple years ago. I lost a baby. A baby boy. I felt like it was a punishment for-“

“Don’t.”

We hold onto each other, our drinks long forgotten. He holds my hand and it feels like being known again, like I wasn’t such an awful person. That someone could see everything I’ve done and still choose to have love for me.

“I’m sorry.” He tells me.

“Me too.” I bite my lip. With a sigh I let him go and lean back. Here we’d been so excited to bump into each other but we’d both been carrying sorrow and grief. It wasn’t very hopeful.

“So I guess you’re not drinking because you’re-“

“No.” I say, surprisingly without feeling awkward. “I’m just sober right now. Trying to figure out life without a drink.”

“Sounds like torture but I respect that. Sounds hard.”

“It was at first. I like the feeling now of thinking clearly. But I miss a glass of wine I do sometimes.”

We smile at each other.

“So do you live around here?” Harry broaches talking again after both of us had lapsed into silence for a while. I blink away the fog of the past.

“Yeah. You?”

“Nah. Shan’s out of town and I was feeling lonely. Came over to visit my sister. I’m just staying with her for the week.”

“Lucky me then.” I smile.

“Lucky me too.” He smiles back. It’s soft. We’re soft. It felt impossible to me after all this time the tenderness was still the strongest thing between us.

We chat a bit more, much about nothing. What we did for a job, anyone we still kept in touch with from school. Nothing that meant a lot.

“I need to head off now,” I say when my phone buzzes for a second time. “I was on my way to my mum’s. She keeps calling me.”

“Yeah. Don’t want to keep you.” Harry says but he stays seated. So do I.

We continue just studying the other until my phone rings again and I laugh. “It was…I really loved seeing you.”

I slide out and Harry mirrors me. I still come to his chest, he still smells the same and stands the same and looks just as handsome.

“How about uhm, how about dinner some time?” Harry asks. I knew it was coming, it’s still painful saying no.

“I…can’t. I…we can’t just do dinner, can we?”

“No,” Harry bows his head. We had too much history to just do dinner. From what he said—and I knew, both our lives were too complicated to add the allure of each other into the mix. I couldn’t do that to my life as tempted as I was. Especially not sober.

“Yeah.” He stands straight again and gives me space to head to the door. “Good seeing you. Give your mum my best if she doesn’t hate me.”

“She doesn’t.” I assure him. We stand awkwardly not sure if a kiss, a hug, or a wave was appropriate. We settle for a hug.

I remember the last time I was enveloped in his arms, tucked away into his tall frame. When we said goodbye forever, agreed to live our best lives separately. We’d both been too scarred to be anything together. Too much grief.

“Maybe we’ll run into each other again.” Harry smiles at me when we part.

“Maybe,” I say knowing full well I wouldn’t do groceries on the weekend anymore.

With a final wave we both part ways again, this time it doesn’t feel as much like closure.

Age 35.

“Graduation’s graduating, what a mouthful.” I say to Andie. We sit in the parking lot of a local pub back home. Both of us had avoided reunions after going to the first one 10 years ago and being reminded of how much people liked to remind you of who you used to be. But this year Andie found out an old flame was going and single. And this is the first year I saw that Harry had checked off going. So we’d decided to go together.

I could have easily reached out to him. Asked him about meeting up there. But I didn’t want to come across any way. I remember our run-in 6 years ago. We felt the same way—we would do anything for each other, and I didn’t want any affect over him coming. Last I heard he was still in a relationship. Just cuz I was didn’t mean I had to ruin another.

“Okay. We going in?” Andie passes me her flask.

I’d taken to drinking again. Originally I stopped after a particularly bad night when I was 28. It nearly cost me my wedding back then.

I stopped to get sober. To feel what it felt like not to rely on alcohol to keep from feeling my emotions. I had a lot of grief I never processed. And unfortunately being sober, and processing the grief and depression, had ultimately cost me my marriage. But I was better for it. I knew what unconditional love and support was. I didn’t want to settle for someone who only loved me at my best.

Now I felt in control when I drank. I knew when to stop.

“Let’s go!”

“Do you think he’ll remember me?” Andie asks as we walk up to the place.

“You comment on so many of his posts. I think he does.” I tease.

“Gah. It would have saved me so much heartbreak if I just told him back 18 years ago how I felt.”

“Maybe,” I think about my confessed love 18 years ago and the heartbreak that ensued.

“Well at least I would have gotten him outta my system. Oh god I see him-“

“Hi ladies,” we’re stopped near the front and given name tags, making small talk with the girls working the booth. I vaguely remember them from a club but I have to read their name tags to pretend I remembered them at all.

Andie ditches me pretty quickly but I don’t mind. I find some friends I saw a couple times a year. Guess this was the couple time this year.

The whole time my eyes scan the room. People had brought their partners and I wondered if Harry would do the same. Deep down, I prayed he didn’t. I just wanted to see him.

I spot him halfway through the night. He’s leaning against the bar talking to Khalil. I remembered they used to be friends, he was always nice to me while Harry and I dated.

I watch him talk and drink. I lose him for a bit and then catch him leaving. Shite.

I excuse myself and rush out but nearly trip over myself slowing down. He was just outside for a smoke break.

“When did that habit start?” I ask. He nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Fu-y/n you scared me.” He shakes his face dramatically, like he’s getting something off of it. I bite back a smile, he was pretty drunk. “When did you get here? I didn’t know you came to these things?”

“I don’t.” I correct him. I couldn’t tell him I came for him. “It was just the name of this reunion, Graduation’s graduating. How could I pass it up?”

This earns a laugh. Eases the air between us. “Did you see Oli in there? He’s gotten bald.”

“He looks like his dad actually,” I remember his dad was always coming to Oli’s football matches, screaming at his son to run faster.

“Glad you didn’t end up with him?” Harry smirks.

“Oh yeah. I heard last reunion he just kept going up for the karaoke sober. If I want my bloke to embarrass me, at least give him the excuse of being drunk.”

“Shit,” Harry laughs. “I remember that! I remember! Wish I could forget!”

I laugh with him. “Harry you’re getting pretty close to drunk yourself.”

“Ah yeah. More than 3 drinks that, I’m being naughty tonight.”

I scrunch my nose, no idea what he’s talking about.

“I can’t believe you’re here tonight,” Harry says again. “I thought I wasn’t going to see you again for another 12 years after our last time.”

“Thought I’d halve the time.” I watch Harry squash out the butt.

“Glad you did.” He looks at me and I’m 17 again. Why couldn’t we both be single? Why did I come here knowing I couldn’t have him.

Maybe I was as masochistic as the person who invented maths.

“Yn?” A voice calls out to me. “Oi! It is you I thought I was dreaming you up! What a sight!”

I’d been avoiding Oli all night. Not anymore.

I glance at Harry and he hides a smirk. Oli notices Harry then and his face hardens a little.

“Oli! Long time!” I go in for the hug he’s reaching for, unsure why he was so sweaty on an autumn night. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he grins at me. “You look good! Not a day over 25.”

“Don’t flatter me Oli,” I roll my eyes. “It’s not going to get you anything.”

“I’m not looking! I swear it!” He says earnestly. “I’m just paying you a compliment. It’s good to see you. Hey, I’m actually in a good relationship. Gonna propose to her.”

“Are you? What’s she like?”

I stand in the brisk evening as Oli tells me about his girlfriend. I’m happy for him, what we had in high school wasn’t really a relationship but I never wished him bad. He was a good guy, I was glad he found his person.

I change the subject when he asks about my love life, tell him I was getting cold. We head back in and I tell him I’d catch up to him later. I’d lost Harry and wanted to find him again. I had more I wanted to talk about.

“Khalil,” I interrupt him playing pool. He goes in for a hug and I engage in polite small talk until I tire of it. “I’m looking for Harry.”

“Of course you are,” he wags a finger at me. “I saw him leaving ten minutes ago?”

“Jeez really?” I couldn’t believe I missed him! After coming here just for him. Maybe he had to get home, maybe he had a kid by now. Had to tuck him in.

“He’s not doing so well since the divorce-“

“What?” I stare at Khalil like he’s spoken gibberish. Why hadn’t I heard about that?

“Ehm yeah. He’s pretty private about it.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Yeah. He’s been separated a few years now but he just signed the papers a couple weeks ago. I dunno. He gets kinda depressed around this time of year. Probably the weather.”

It was September. It wasn’t the weather.

I had to find him.

I brush past the people I went to school with. I followed Harry outside to a roof 17 years ago and today I follow him out to find him again. We needed to talk.

I look both ways, hoping for a miracle.

I spot a figure slumped on the far end of the road. I recognize the church, it was where we went every Easter and Christmas growing up.

I walk towards the figure until I can make out the hair. It was Harry. Thank god.

“Why’d you leave?” I ask him when he looks up to my approaching footsteps.

“I drank too much,” he hangs his head again. I sit beside him.

“I heard about the divorce. I’m sorry.”

Harry shrugs. “We separated a while ago. It was coming for a long time.”

“Yeah. Still.” I say.

We sit in silence, the only sound is our breathing and the faint noises from the pub down the road.

“She’s in her last year by now.” I say without further explanation. I know he’d know.

“Our baby’s 17.”

Our baby? I feel choked up. All these years we’d been apart, built our own lives, and there was still an our even when there hadn’t been.

“It’s always been us hasn’t it?” Harry says. “Nobody understands.”

“They couldn’t. We were so young, making such a big decision.”

“Oh y/n.” He leans into me and I wrap my arm around his shoulder. He’s cold, his jacket pooled on the steps around him. I gather it to spread over his shoulder but he stops me. “How much heartbreak can you have in one lifetime?”

I sit, aching for the pain Harry was going through. Knowing it was mirrored in me.

“I’ve had enough for a lifetime. I know that.”

“Me too.” Harry sighs. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here.” I intertwine our hands. They still fit the exact same, all these years later. I examine them, but they looked the same too. I wonder if our baby girl ever looked at her hands, wondered who she inherited them from.

“D’you think she thinks about us?” Harry asks what I’m thinking.

“Maybe.” I say. “I like to think so. I just hope she doesn’t hate us for giving her up.”

“Yeah me too I think…” he hangs his head. I hear him sniffle. Seems like Harry hit the point of drinking where all you could feel is regret. I remember those days. I knew where he was.

When he doesn’t finish his sentence I fill the silence; “Me and Tatum split uh…four years ago now.” I update him. “You probably heard something about it. I remember my mum saying she ran into yours when it was happening. They probably talked all about it.”

I wait for Harry to give confirmation but he stays the way he is.

“I went sober a few years before then. Almost ruined our wedding cuz I was exactly where you were. Unprocessed grief and all I could do was drink about it. I’d given up a baby at 18, then lost a baby a decade later. It feels silly to say out loud, that something that never really came into this world—something the size of a fruit could act like the rock you push up the hill every morning. The grief you fight at your darkest times. How could we be haunted by something that didn’t even exist—not technically. But that’s just the way it was. And that’s the way it had to be when we were 18. I’m not always sure I made the right decision overall but I know it was a decision we had to make at the time. I’ve had to find my peace. So do you Harry.”

“Yeah. I-I have to. Y’know? Sometimes I wonder if I would have made her proud.” Harry sniffles. I had similar thoughts. My throat feels tight remembering. “I don’t think, right now, I would be.”

“She’s so loved. She is so loved Harry. Whatever…wherever she is.”

“I love you.” Harry turns to me. His face is raw with grief and emotion. “Never stopped loving you. But I don’t want to give you this version of me.”

“I’ll take any version of you Harry.” I reassure him. “I think we’ve seen too much of each other to be able to hide anything away.”

He tips forward slowly until his head rests on my chest. I hold him there, just like he’d done for me so many years ago. I tell him the type of thing that meant everything to me back then and I hope it helps him to hear it: “We’ll get through this Harry.”

***

“I don’t remember getting here.”

I look up from my book, Harry stands in my kitchen with a confused look on his face. It was weird seeing him here in my flat. But it was so right too.

“We walked home. I thought you sobered up.”

“Nuh-uh.” He takes a few steps towards me, hesitant.

“Coffee?”

“Maybe I’ll take a shower first?”

“First door on your right. Extra towels in the cupboard.”

“Thanks.”

We look at one another for a beat before he moves back. I make another pot of coffee and clean up from breakfast while he showers.

Next time he walks back in he looks a lot better. Smells nice too.

“Black please.” He says when I hold the coffee up.

I pour him a cup and watch him sip it.

“Thank you for last night.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” I tell him.

“I remember what you said to me. You’re right of course. I think I knew it, I just didn’t have anyone to talk to about it with. Nobody knew about us…”

“You didn’t have to keep it a secret ‘til this day Harry.” I was surprised he had. “You didn’t even tell any of your friends?”

“The only people who knew were my family, a-and Shan. But. Year after year it didn’t mean the same thing to her. I stopped talking to her about it pretty quickly. Think it made it worse because her and I couldn’t actually…”

“Yeah.” I understood.

“But I realized. I think it was losing both of you. I feel like you were taken away too. We just went from being around each other all the time to cold turkey. That was a loss too so…”

“Yeah.” Again, I understood.

“I’m 35. I’ve gotta…get my head on straight.”

I examine him. “Looks okay to me?”

He smiles and puts his cup down.

“I’m sorry to hear about your divorce.”

“Meh that was years ago. Hard then. Fine now. For the best.”

“I agree,” Harry moves around the table to stand where I am. My heart pulses just like it always does around him. He rests a hand on my hip, dragging it up to wrap around my waist. He must feel how hard my heart’s beating. “Did I tell you? That I love you?”

“Maybe?” I feel myself growing more present. The hole that always lived inside of me growing even smaller in this moment. It allows me to settle on the floor better; less air, more weight.

“Well I do. I love you. At 17, or at 35.” He says this with a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth.

“Well. I love you.” I return the kiss, relish in the way his hand grips my tank. “At 17, or 35.”

“Sometimes I wish I held on tighter at 17. But I look at you now and I’m excited to get to know you again.”

His words pour over me like honey. It was sweet we were still on the same page.

“I’m not letting you go this time.” Harry whispers in my ear. He pulls me in tight, swaying from side to side. “I want to spend 41 and 50 with you. I want all of you, every side.”

“Perfect,” I peer up at him. “That’s exactly what I want too.”

“And maybe one day,” he continues in a hush voice. “We’ll get a call from a young girl. She’ll tell us all about her life in a town up north. About a picture she has of her mother dressed like her father and her father dressed like her mother.”

“She’ll tell us she’s had a good life, and she’s thought about the people in the picture. She’d tell us she wants to meet them.”

“We would be able to show her the love we kept for her. Our love’s like a venn diagram, the bit in the middle is just for her. She’d know why she was born in the first place.”

“Closure,” I whisper to him. “We would know closure.”

I remember the day she was taken, how the loss of not even being able to see her felt bigger than the loss of her itself back then.

I think of a 17 year old girl, with green eyes and brown hair. With my smile and Harry’s dimples. My hands, and Harry’s height. She was loved by people, families, that she didn’t even know existed yet.

They say if you love something, let it go. If it’s meant to be it’ll come back.

As Harry and I stay intertwined in the kitchen of my flat, I send out a wish into the universe for her like I did most days. That she was healthy, happy, and one day curious enough to seek us out. That one day, she would come back.

Right now I focus on the man in my arms. The one I never thought I’d get to hold again. For now this was all I needed. I’d loved him, let him go, and after so many years apart, we were back.

[kkcauseway]

Mine For Life

Parent Joel Miller x F!reader

Summary: Your son has been on the earth for a whole two weeks, the days are all blending into one, but you wouldn't change anything about it. When you wake you go about your routine as normal but Joel has the biggest of surprises for you, the biggest of questions to ask, wanting to make you officially his for life. Content/warnings: No outbreak. Soooo much fucking flufff!!! family fluff, domestic fluff. Joel being the cutest dad. Reader and Joel working as a team to make sure their new born son gets the care he needs. Marriage proposal, breast feeding. Caring!Joel Miller. No use of Y/N. A/N: This was a literal dream I had that I woke up from and wrote notes about instantly and I've now changed it into the cutest fluff piece. I hope you love it!!!!

Main masterlist

Two weeks you’ve been parents. In a crazy so full of love, lack of sleep bubble where the days have merged into one. You haven’t washed your hair in a few days, but you wouldn’t change the reason for the world. Your son Frankie Thomas Miller named after your father and of course Tommy, came into the world weighing only 6lbs and screaming his tiny lungs out. And there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. It still doesn’t feel real even with you having had two weeks to adjust.

When he starts crying you quickly get up and bring him into bed with you, in a half-asleep state. You’re thankful Joel didn’t wake as he’s helped so much in the day today to allow you to catch up on sleep, so you want to make sure he gets a full nights rest.

By the chirping of the birds and the beginnings of sunlight pushing its way through the side of the curtains you guess it’s roughly 4am. Meaning you’ve managed to get a solid four hours sleep, no wonder you feel so good.

You instantly place him on your breast to settle him and after he’s fed for a solid thirty minutes you burp him, change him, and then lie with him against your chest. His wide-awake eyes stare at you and you’re in no rush for this moment to end. Differentiating between drawing circles on his small back and head. The full head of hair that he has getting longer you swear by the second.

When your eyes begin feeling heavy you jolt yourself back awake do not fall asleep with him on you. But as a precaution in case you do you make a little area for him between the pair of you on the mattress so he will be safe if you do. You lie staring at him the biggest of smiles on your face and that’s the last thing you see.

When Joel stirs awake and it’s fully light outside his eyes readjust and his focus is straight on Frankie. Fast asleep between you. He’s surprised of course but quickly catches on to what’s obviously happened. And he’s not complaining, who would waking to the site of his gorgeous newborn son and girlfriend fast asleep.

He turns fully onto his side so he can watch Frankie sleep. It’s such an intimate beautiful moment. He places his hand to his son’s stomach stroking softly. Adoring the sight of the love of his life and his precious son in slumber.

One second Frankie’s hand is above his tiny head and the next he’s stretching slightly, and it falls to his side. Joel can’t help but chuckle because that’s a move you pull often in bed.

His lips smack against each other every so often and he lets out little purr like noises. So tiny so cute. Melting his heart completely every time. He’s obviously in the happiest of dreams.

It isn’t long till he begins stirring. Actually waking and doing the all mightiest of stretches all four of his limbs stretched to full capacity and his tiny face scrunches in on itself. His eyes open wide and begin scanning the room and he begins whimpering obviously getting ready to cry. But Joel’s actions calm him right back down.

Yet it wakes you right away and you turn to your side noticing the smile on Joel’s face. God he’s so gorgeous when he first wakes up and watching the way his hand rubs Frankie’s stomach softly melts you. You can feel just how much he loves your boy, just as much as you do.

“G’mornin’” he eventually grumbles

“Hey baby” you mumble as you move closer to Frankie Joel brings his hand away from Frankie’s stomach to rub at your hip and you both bask in the comfortable silence.

“I still can’t believe he’s real” you whisper unable to take your eyes off him.

“I’ve never been so happy as when you blessed me w’him.”

You chuckle, goosebumps taking over your whole body as his thumb tickles your hip.

Eventually Frankie begins crying for real, obviously desperate for his mama to feed him again.

Yet nothing could ruin this moment not even your son beginning to get rowdy. So you bask in the last few seconds before having to both get into full parent mode.

As his cries grow louder, and more intense Joel sits up grabbing him and shushing him as he holds him close to his chest. Fuck he looks yummy like that. His broad shoulders and chest making your son look even smaller.

His large hand holds his head softly stroking to comfort him. Joel notices quickly that he needs changing so grabs the caddy that’s on the end of the bed, somehow not been kicked off after you passed out having done half a job to put things back away, and gets to it right away. Frankie still fussy as he does.

Once clean and fresh, you’re ready to feed him so working as a team he passes him over and makes sure you’re comfortable whilst you do.

He watches you feed him; your maternal instincts so natural. Frankie forever happy and content with you. Eventually, he speaks wanting your attention “hey baby I got somethin’ f’you.”

“What’s that?” You mumble as you move your eyes from Frankie back to him. And you gasp. No idea what to do or say as you stare at Joel, and he stares back at you with a red velvet ring box open before you. A beautiful diamond ring gleaming at you.

“Joel” you whisper unsure of what to do, what to say.

“Baby I love you like I ain’t never loved someone before, and I don’t think it was even possible but when you gave me Frankie that shit doubled, hell it tripled, and I thought I already loved you more than was possible. I wana spend the rest o’my life with you, growin’ our family, fillin’ our home, growin’ old together. I want it all with you baby.”

Tears flow freely from your eyes and the glossiness of them makes it almost impossible to see. “I- I- god it’s so beautiful- Joel I don’t know what to say.”

“Well a yes would be nice.” He chuckles

Fuck. You hadn’t even thought about the response too caught up in the craziness. Too caught up in how unexpected it was.

“Yes, a million times yes!!” You chuckle wetly and he joins you.

“Yeah, you gonna marry me baby, become a Miller f'real?”

“I can’t think of anything I want more.”

You hold Frankie with your other hand so you can hold your left out to him. He takes the ring out of the box and places it onto your finger. It’s the perfect fit because Joel always gets everything exactly right. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the ring.

When he finally releases your hand, you hold it out and study the ring intently.

Wow.

It’s the perfect size diamond for your small finger and is absolutely gorgeous.

“Fuck I love you.” Joel grumbles and as you move your hand away, so he comes back into full view, you chuckle.

“I love you too fiancé.”

“Fiancé, damn I like the sound o’that.”

[folkwhoredoll]

golden retriever - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: when your dog runs off to approach rafe

word count: 0.8k

warnings/tags: fluff (i used the name "finn" because that's the name of my dog irl but feel free to change it😊)

masterlist

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The waves lapped gently at the shore as you walked along the beach, the familiar sound of Finn's paws pattering beside you bringing a sense of peace. It was a beautiful evening, the sun beginning to set, casting a soft, golden hue across the water. The gentle breeze tugged at your hair, and you smiled as you looked down at Finn, your golden retriever, who seemed just as content as you.

But that peace didn’t last long.

Out of nowhere, Finn’s ears perked up, and before you could react, he bolted. His leash slipped from your hand as his strong body charged forward, and you stumbled backward, momentarily stunned by the sudden burst of energy.

“Finn! No!” you called, panic rising in your chest as you sprinted after him. Your heart pounded in your ears as you struggled to keep up with his large frame darting down the beach.

Of course, Finn was fast—too fast. He wove through the sand, his fur shining like liquid gold under the dimming sun, clearly set on reaching something you couldn't see. Your legs burned from the effort, and your breath came in short gasps. He was heading straight toward a figure standing near a boat docked not far away.

You froze when you realized who it was.

Rafe Cameron.

Of all people, why him? You'd heard enough about his reputation to know that approaching him wasn't exactly on your to-do list.

Before you could even think of a way to stop the disaster unfolding, Finn was already upon him, tail wagging like crazy. But what surprised you even more was how Rafe reacted. He didn’t flinch or seem irritated as Finn skidded to a stop, practically bumping into him. Instead, he crouched down and gave your dog a firm pat on the head, his expression surprisingly calm.

"Easy there, big guy," Rafe muttered, scratching behind Finn’s ears.

You finally caught up, your breath ragged as you stopped in front of them, panting and wide-eyed. "Finn! Oh my God, I'm so sorry—he's usually not like this, I swear."

Your heart was still pounding, not just from the run but from the sight in front of you: Rafe Cameron, notorious for his cold demeanor, standing casually with your runaway golden retriever as if they were old pals. Finn was calm now, his big, goofy grin aimed up at Rafe, tongue hanging out in utter contentment.

Rafe’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, and for a split second, something softened in his gaze. His lips curled into the faintest of smirks, though he kept his voice even. "It’s fine. Looks like he likes me."

You were caught off guard by how casual he sounded, like it wasn’t the first time he’d had a giant, excitable dog run full-speed at him. "Yeah, he… he doesn’t usually do that," you managed, still trying to catch your breath. You knelt down beside Finn, gripping his leash as if that could somehow ground you in this strange moment.

You couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Rafe’s reputation wasn’t exactly pristine, and while you didn’t know him personally, you had heard enough to make your stomach flip with a mix of caution and curiosity. But standing here now, watching him scratch Finn behind the ears with that half-smirk on his face, he didn’t seem dangerous. Just… quiet.

"Well, he’s got good taste," Rafe said, his voice low but teasing. His blue eyes lingered on you for a second longer than you expected, sending a strange flutter through your chest.

You blinked, heat rising in your cheeks. Was that a compliment? "Uh, thanks," you stammered, feeling oddly out of place. You tugged at Finn’s leash, trying to focus. "I should, um, I should probably go. Sorry again for, you know, the…dog situation."

Rafe straightened up, brushing some sand off his hands. His expression was neutral now, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. "No problem," he replied simply, though the corners of his mouth twitched, like he was holding back another smirk. "Try to keep him on a tighter leash next time."

You bit your lip, unsure whether to laugh or be embarrassed, but you nodded. "Yeah, I’ll do that." You gave Finn’s leash a gentle tug, urging him to follow you away from the beach and away from Rafe Cameron, who now stood watching you with that same unreadable look.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder, half-expecting him to be gone. But Rafe was still there, his hands now in his pockets, gazing out at the horizon. Something about that moment—the golden sunset, the quiet between you—stuck with you as you made your way down the beach, Finn trotting obediently beside you.

You weren’t sure why your heart was still racing.

[toxic3mmy]

The reader's boyfriend is abusive and has bruises all over her arm.

Then your best friend Quackity, who ends up having a crush on the reader, notices the bruises 😭

yesssss, ANGST

pls remember, this is fictional but it does happen to many people on the daily so be respectful my sweets

[i have brackets before and after tw content, PLS do not read if you’re not in the right place or are easily triggered, take care of yourselves my loves<3]

prompt: alex helps you leave an abusive relationship

warnings! mentions of r@pe/forced sex && abuse/abusive relationships

“i can’t believe this y/n” alex said angrily as he paced in his living room

“i can’t believe you didn’t tell me! i’m sure you had your reasons and i promise im not upset at you. im pissed at that piece of shit. and you better let jaime know that if i ever fucking catch him absolutely anywhere, i will beat him to a god damn pulp, i swear on my mother. just look at those bruises! why didn’t you come to me the first time this happened?” he sighed, sitting next to you and taking your hand in his

“it’s not something that’s easy to talk about… i didn’t want you to think i was weak and… i dunno” your cheeks were very tear stained

“y/n… you’re not weak. you’re one of the strongest people i know. i’m so sorry this is happened to you. you deserve the absolute world. please just stay here, don’t go back to him… don’t give him the satisfaction..” he pleaded while looking into your eyes

“i can’t… you know i can’t. i promise everything will be okay. i’m going to go home and he’s going to apologize and i’ll pretend everything is okay until i can plan a way out, okay?”

“y/n… he could kill you. you’re so tiny and fragile especially right now and he’s literally 6 ft…” alex shook his head as he spoke

“i promise to call you if anything. i have to go now, okay? i’ll talk to you when i can” you said, giving your best friend a hug goodbye and heading home

~

you quietly closed the door behind you, hoping not to wake your boyfriend.

“it’s 12am.. where have you been baby?” jaime said with a devilish grin as he stood up and began moving closer to you

you jumped as his voice scared the shit out of you. you expected him to be asleep.

“jaime.. i thought you’d be asleep. i was just at the park, needed to clear my head” you gulped nervously as jaime wrapped his arms around you

“are you seriously still mad about earlier? i told you i was sorry… i promise i didn’t mean to hurt you. you know i love you to bits y/n” he said, with a strong smell of alcohol and cigarettes on his breath

“i k-know.. but i’m here now”

“let me make it up to you…” he said, kissing your neck roughly

suddenly, your phone vibrated in your pocket. you shut your eyes tightly, already knowing what was going to come next. jaime stopped kissing you and snatched your phone from your pants.

“alexis…” he whispered, reading the name of who was calling you and then he turned to look at you. you saw burning rage beginning to form in his eyes. he threw your phone at the wall near you and it shattered

“so you went to see that son of a bitch?! i fucking knew it! you disgust me, you fucking whore. i’ll show you who the fuck you belong to”

[tw; pls skip if you’re not comfortable reading r@pe/forced sexual situations]

a harsh slap echoed throughout the room and your face stung so bad.

he proceeded to rip off your shirt and jeans. you said nothing as he did this. tears silently spilled from your eyes. you were too tired to fight back. you were too tired to make a sound. you were just so tired.

you laid there as he did the unthinkable to you. your body was in terrible pain as he gripped your arms and took everything from you. he had you faced down on the sofa and all you could bring yourself to do was stare at the floor.

you decided right there that thus was the end. the second jaime was nowhere nearby, you’d finish getting your half packed things and leave him once and for all.

he finally finished and kissed your back, dressing himself back up.

“i love you so much baby, i hope you know that.. i’m gonna run to the store to get some more beer and some cigarettes before they close. i’ll be back okay? then we can have some more fun” he smiled and kissed your head before leaving

[end of tw]

~

your heart was racing. you had about ten minutes before jaime got home. you hurriedly packed as much as you could fit in your backpack and your small traveling bag. you made sure to get your expensive stuff like your ipad for school, your jewelry, and especially your car. you also did your best to get your clothes and shoes together.

before walking out of the door, you looked yourself in the mirror behind your front door. your hair was messy as you hadn’t brushed it in a few days. your arms were sore and had patches of purple and yellow scattered everywhere. your eyes were swollen and red from constant crying. your mascara and eyeliner were runny, and you looked a complete mess. you had a black eye and you felt embarrassed. you put on your sun glasses and left that prison of a house.

you got into your car with all your belongings and drove. you didn’t exactly know where you wanted to go but it’s like your body knew where to go and all you could do was follow it.

the worst pain you felt was in your heart. your heart was in so much pain from everything. you couldn’t believe how bad you let this get. you knew you deserved better.

as you parked your car at your destination, you took a deep breath. you locked your car after exiting and headed to the front door. you knocked softly.

alex opened the door sleepily, only in sweatpants.

“y/n? what happened?”

you couldn’t even get a word out as you practically launched forward and sobbed against his chest

“come in, please” he said and you did

he closed and locked the door behind you. he grabbed your bags from your arms and took them to his living room. he then led you to his bedroom and sat you down on his bed.

“did you park in my back parking? remember how we talked about hiding your car if something bad happened again?”

and you nodded

“y/n… what happened?”

“he h-hurt me… so bad ‘lex. he went to the store for more alcohol and i left. i had to. i’m really sorry to bother you with all of this. i just… i feel safest with you..” you said, beginning to sob even more as alex held you

“shh, it’s okay. i’m here and you’re safe now. you’re never a bother to me. you’re my best f-friend… i always want to make sure that you’re okay, chiquita” he said, rubbing your back

“alex…. he hit me… and then h-he… r-raped me… and i’m just a weak useless nothing! i just laid there! w-why? why did this h-happen? where did i go wrong…” you sobbed even more now and alex simply held you tighter

“we ned to get a test done for evidence y/n… we need to protect you. i’m so fucking sorry. you deserve real love. you never ever deserved any of this. you’re not nothing, you’re absolutely everything to me okay? do you want to go and do that rape kit thing at the hospital?” he asked

“i-i don’t know…”

“it’s okay, you still have time to think about it but you only have less than four days to make your mind up. let’s get you out of these clothes and let’s put them away in a sealed bag in case you do want to get tested.” and you just nodded

you felt numb as alex changed you into clothes of his own and put your clothes into a big ziplock bag with gloves on. you didn’t want to have to see jaime again or even relive the pain but maybe this could prevent others getting hurt by him in the future. you still had a little bit of time to think about it.

for now, you let alex change you and lay you in his bed. after he went and made sure every door and window was locked in his house, per your request, he tucked you in and laid right next to you. he held you to his chest and let you cry.

once you calmed down, he sang to you. his voice was so soothing and it was putting you to sleep.

right before you fell into a deep sleep, you heard alex whisper something to you,

“i promise to take care of you and show you the love you deserve. i’ll make you okay again..”

[leighsartworks216]

The Burlesque Boutique

Astarion x gn/fem!Tav/Reader

Based on this art by @marbledgummi

I could not resist

There are two versions of this fic. Read the male/AMAB version here

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Warnings: explicit smut, crying, orgasm denial, swearing, one reference to past trauma, pegging

Word Count: 2,619

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“Dove?”

Astarion poked his head into the study. You were hunched over the desk on your side of the room, hands working away at something. The other half of the room (his half) was cluttered with sewing and jewelry supplies, half-made dresses and suits, and a stack of pillows for when he wanted to take a nap without straying too far from you. He never really imagined settling down, owning a house, but now he couldn’t imagine it being any other way.

“Did you order something from,” he glances at the box in his hand, “the ‘Burlesque Boutique’, by any chance?”

“No,” you answered. You look up from your project with a quirked brow. “Why?”

His mouth opens, about to explain. But then a wicked little idea curled around his brainstem, crooking a finger at him and tempting him toward mischief. Instead, he smiled in that way that showed he was planning something. You raise your brows higher at him. “No reason, darling.”

“Mhm.” You turn back to your work. “Don’t catch anything on fire.”

He scoffs, shouting back as he pads down the rest of the hall to the bedroom. “It was one time!” He heard you chuckle in response.

The box wasn’t big - a foot or so wide and rectangular. It also wasn’t much to look at, despite the shop’s name in script on the top suggesting something racy or scandalous. He flipped it over a few times, but there was no name. The mail carrier must have delivered it to the wrong house, or it was a lame prank from some teens.

He sighed. He really hoped it was something more than that.

He cut the silky red ribbon holding it shut with a knife he kept in his bedside table. He almost considered saving it. If the rest of this turned out to be a bust, at least he could tie your hands up with this. But the rope he had for such an act was much softer, and quite a bit stronger. So he dropped it carelessly to the side and lifted the lid.

He chuckled, delighted and utterly amused as he unfolded the tissue paper and revealed a set of pink and white lingerie. The top was a sheer negligee with thin straps and a little bow that would rest prettily between a pair of breasts. Long, white stockings were folded beneath it, with a matching garter belt to keep them up.

Oh, this was… He could just picture you wearing it, all dolled up just for him.

And then the thought turned back on him.

What if he got all dolled up for you? He wasn’t a stranger to wearing feminine clothing - you’d particularly enjoyed him in the Wavemother’s robe. Testing the thought, he lifted the negligee by the straps and held it up to his chest. It looked like it would fit…

He started to lower it back into the box when something else caught his eye. He placed it on the bed instead and moved the stocking out of the way and- Oh. Oh gods. A pretty pair of panties hidden at the bottom of the box, the same pink as the negligee and with a little ribbon of its own.

Now, how could he resist?

-

You didn’t jump when arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind, so used to Astarion’s habit of sneaking up just for affection. He pressed like kisses to the side of your neck as he peered over your shoulder.

Your hands worked diligently on your project. Astarion pressed another kiss just below your ear, where he whispered, “Can you spare a moment, darling? I wish to show you something.”

You hum, taking in his words but too focused to answer. Once you find a good moment to stop, you set everything down and turn your head to look at him. “What is it, star?”

He grins deviously as he captures your lips, cupping your cheek and keeping you in place. He’d hate to spoil the surprise.

He doesn’t pull away as he sidles around your chair. You sigh quietly into his mouth when he parts your lips with his tongue. The sound alone makes his cock twitch, pressed tightly against the lace of the panties that keep it in place. He groans quietly.

Dexterous as ever, he sits himself on your lap easily, straddling your legs. You automatically reach up to support him, hands landing on his hips to keep him from sliding off, but then your eyes shoot open.

He’s smirking when you pull away with wide eyes as you lean back to take him in. You can’t get enough. Your eyes trail all down his body, looking at his chest and stomach through the sheer pink negligee. The garter belt hugs his waist, straps reach down his thighs to hold onto the tall stockings. The matching lace panties, bulging with his growing erection. A pretty silk ribbon is tied around his neck, just below his Adam’s apple.

You look up at him in awe, all flushed with dilating pupils. “Where did you get this?”

“Somebody left a package at the door,” he explains, leaning down to kiss at your neck. You immediately give in to the attention, tilting your head to the side as you grip his thigh and tangle your fingers in his hair. “No name, no address. I expected a prank, but the temptation was too good to miss.”

He nipped at your pulse and you groaned. “Speaking of temptation.” You tugged at his hair, pulling him away from your neck. A little harder than strictly necessary, but he just grinned as his head was tipped back with the pressure. The ribbon strained against his throat. “Gods, how should I have you?”

“In any way you please, my love.”

You smirk up at him. “In any way?” You tug at his hair again, drawing a grunt of pleasure from your lover. His Adam’s apple bobbed, fully exposed and prominent. You release his hair and slide your hand to his throat. He watches through lidded eyes. With deft fingers, you pull at one end of the ribbon, and it comes apart, falling from his neck. You tap his thigh. “Get up.”

He gives you an uncertain look, almost a frown, but he complies. You stand and push him back until his ass hits the edge of the desk. He blindly reaches behind him to push your stuff back carelessly. You’re too entranced with him and the lewd images racing through your mind to care.

You grab his hip and push lightly, telling him without words what you wanted him to do. He lifts himself onto the edge. You press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Good boy.”

You step back to take him all in. Such a pretty little thing, all dressed up in someone else’s lingerie just for you.

You don’t take your eyes off his as you kneel down before him. The sight of you on your knees, face so close to his aching cock, sends a thrill down his spine. He grips onto the edge of the desk to retain some self-control.

You hold onto his legs as you begin trailing kisses along them. You kiss a line from his knee, up along the stocking, until you finally reach skin. There, you nip at the soft flesh. Closer and closer to where he needs you.

He groans above you. “You’re going to kill me at this rate,” he whines.

You grin against his skin, but don’t immediately act to provide him any relief. Instead, you kiss and bite your way to the edge of the panties. And, devil that you are, you kiss over the bulge. It twitches under your lips as Astarion hisses. You lick a stripe against it and he tenses with a strangled moan.

“Gods, please,” he begs, voice airy. “Too tight. Too tight.”

Mercifully, you pull the lace down, freeing him from his prison and tucking it under his balls. His dick was hard and sensitive. A small bead of precum already shined at the head.

“Desperate?” you tease.

He glares down at you. “Excited,” he corrects sharply. “To have your pretty little mouth around me.”

You hum, studying his dick. The longer you did nothing, the more it strained, eager to be touched, tasted, teased. You press a little kiss at the head, kitten-licking the precum away as his hips buck for more.

And then you stand. He whines.

“Bedroom. I want to take you properly.”

He wastes no time, leaping up from his seat and rushing to the bedroom. You follow after, leisurely. He sits at the edge of the bed, fingers digging into the covers to stop from touching himself. You walk around to your bedside table. “Lay down.”

His eyes never stray from you as he crawls back to the center of the bed. He swallows excitedly as you pull out a small container of oil and your strap-on. You had it specially made - everything the strap feels, you can feel, as though it is an extension of your own body.

Truth be told, Astarion doesn’t bottom very often. It can bring back bad memories, of being used, but he enjoys this immensely, and he can’t wait to be fucked by you.

You kneel by him and lean down to kiss him. It’s hot and eager, Astarion nipping and sucking as he tries to distract himself. Your hand finds his inner thigh and his hips jerk to find friction. You don’t provide him any, of course.

You pull away to kiss his neck, massaging his thigh and hip as you mark him up. “Such a good boy,” you whisper into his skin. He whines, pressing his head back into the bed. He loves your praise.

His cock is weeping and red with need when you pull away. You stand and make your way to the foot of the bed. “Back or stomach?”

Gods, thinking about either makes him keen. He has to bite his lip to form a coherent thought. “Stomach.”

“Flip over.”

He does immediately. He gets on his hands and knees, back arching in anticipation. His cock dribbles onto the sheets, but neither of you can care in this moment.

He feels the bed shift as you climb back on behind him. He tries to look back, to see what you’re doing. It’s futile. All he knows is he needs to be touched so fucking bad. It consumes his entire mind.

You slide the panties down until it’s bridging between his thighs, unable to be fully removed with the garter belt holding up the stockings. You caress one of his ass cheeks, pulling it to the side to reveal his tight asshole. You bite the other cheek, quite hard, enough to leave a slight imprint of your teeth. He lowers down to his elbows so he can press his face in his arms.

“Good?” you ask, pressing a light kiss over the reddening mark.

He nods frantically. “Don’t stop,” he whimpers.

Your hand leaves him for a moment, but he can hear the sound of the oil bottle opening. You slick your fingers and spread his cheeks once more. He can’t help the keening moan that erupts from his mouth when you rub and prod at his entrance. He tries to rock back into your fingers, to fuck himself on them, but you hold him in place.

You take your time to gently stretch him, adding one finger at a time and never going deep enough. At one point, you push your fingers as deep as they can go and he sobs into his arms.

When you think he’s ready, you slick your strap with more oil, sitting up on your knees and grabbing onto his hips with both hands. He’s a mess, pressing into you against his will. He needs you inside him.

You coo sweetly to him. “Don’t worry, my love, I’ve got you. You’re so pretty like this.” You line up your strap with his asshole and slowly, so fucking slowly, push in. He groans and keens and makes all sorts of lovely noises. He grips at the bedsheets and squirms slightly as you fill him. “So fucking gorgeous. My good boy. So good.”

You still when your hips are flush with his ass. He whines and tries to press back again, but there’s nothing more to take. He is completely full of your cock.

You roll your hips and he gasps, babbling to beg you to move, to fuck him. You shush him as you slowly pull your strap almost all the way out, and press in again. There’s less resistance each time, until you can set a good pace without hurting him.

He moans and whines your name, gasping when you sharply thrust into him. The negligee slips down his body with the rocking motion until it pools around his chest and bunches at his shoulder blades.

“You look so good in pink, baby,” you tell him. You lean over his back and press loving kisses on his neck and shoulders. He turns his head to try looking at you, to try to say something playful. But he can’t open his eyes, and none of his words come out as words. “You’re being so good for me, pretty boy. I’ll take care of you.”

You sit back up and grab his hips tighter, pulling them toward you with each thrust. He cries out as you pound into him, speeding up as you feel your own orgasm approaching. Your movements become sloppy and lose the rhythm, but you only fuck him harder and faster to compensate. You can tell he’s close. He gasps breathlessly against the covers, hips rocking for friction against the air. He’s so fucking close.

You lift a leg to be effectively kneeling behind him. It changes the angle just enough that you rub against his prostate with each thrust. He moans loudly, the sound choking in his throat and coming out as a desperate whine. He doesn’t last.

A few more thrusts and his orgasm tears through him. He cums hard, body trembling and cock twitching as he finally finds the release he longed for, without hardly being touched.

His asshole clenches around you, squeezing your strap with each spurt of cum. You don’t stop fucking him until you orgasm, buried deep inside his ass. You’re both panting, whimpering messes as your legs tremble, as he stains the blankets and coats his stomach. The negligee is just barely out of reach, unstained by just a hair.

When you’re both spent, you sit there a moment, catching your breath. You slowly ease out of him. He whimpers softly, but sighs contently once the pressure is gone. His legs are unsteady, hands merely resting on the blankets instead of clutching for dear life.

You get up from the bed and go to the side to help him roll over and lay on his back without laying in his own spend. He clumsily finds your hand where you held his waist and holds it.

“Good?” you ask again. You push his matted curls from his forehead and kiss his brow. He nods against your lips. He still can’t quite find his words. You kiss his cheek. “Bath?”

He nods again, but holds tighter to your hand when you try to pull away. “Not yet,” he mumbles. He draws your hand up to his face, holding it to his cheek as he leans into it with a quiet sigh.

You press your head to his, kissing his temple and the length of his ear tenderly. “Take your time, my love. I’ll take care of you.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @mheerdraws @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @sylverqueencosplay @ashrio20 @bambamwolf87 @astarion-imagine-archive @thistrashisreadytobash @rosxtinted @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @the-lake-is-calling @nyxmainex @godoffuckedupcats

[multifandomkpop3]

“OPEN” Pt.1

Pt.2

Genre: mentions of smut but mostly angst and build up

Warnings: Sexual content, smoking, partying, underage drinking, smut, hardcore language(sometimes), Cursing, Mature content, protected and unprotected intercourse, mxm intercourse, pet names (It there are ones I forgot I deeply apologize)

*Disclaimer* This is a two part because I want the smut to have its own part so this is just the build up to the smut. I suggest reading this too but it’s your choice if you only read the smut.

As you stepped into the 5-bedroom home, your mind was still buzzing with the excitement of the day’s vlogging and shopping you did for your new room. You put all of your new things away in the room before you looked at your phone for the first time in what feels like forever and saw a text from Hongjoong asking if you could come talk to him whenever you got home.

You then traveled down the stairs to the master bedroom where Hongjoong and Seonghwa sleep. You’re about to open the door, but first, you instinctively check the sign to confirm their openness to visitors. With a gentle click, you pushed the door open, fully expecting to find at least one of them waiting inside. But what greeted you was beyond anything you could have imagined.

In front of you was an image of all 8 men engaging in a very private and intimate moment that you're sure you should have never seen.

Hongjoong is sitting on the chair in the corner with Seonghwa in the middle of his naked legs riding his cock. San is driving his cock hard into Wooyoung while Yeosang has his cock down the younger’s throat and making out with the black-haired man on the bottom half of the bed. At the top of the bed, Yunho is sat against the headboard with his tongue moving in rhythm with Jongho’s as Mingi jerks off and sucks his cock.

The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping, groans, moans, and various curse words. You stand there frozen until you notice Hongjoong’s eyes moving to see your figure in the doorway, in an act of panic you jump and start frantically apologizing.

“OMG!! I am so sorry th-the door said open and I-I… am just gonna go.” You rushed and stuttered over your words as you reached for the handle to shut the door.

You retreat to your room in a rush, flipping the sign to closed and slamming the door shut, still reeling from the bewildering scene you stumbled upon. Questions flood your mind in a frantic attempt to make sense of what you just witnessed. "What was that? Why forget to change the sign? Why did I linger? Why do I feel flushed? Why even make my presence known? Why the intense heat? Why didn’t I just leave? Why did they all look so attractive? Why does a part of me want to experience them searching and exploring me next? Why do I want to be the third one between Hongjoong and Seonghwa? I shouldn't be feeling this way! I shouldn't be imagining... Stop it, Y/N, get it together!"

As you pace your room, grappling with your thoughts, a knock at the door freezes you in your tracks. Hongjoong's voice trembles through the wood, pleading for entry and promising explanations.

(Hongjoong’s perspective)

Y/n slammed the door and bolted away, leaving the rest of us staring at each other with shock etched on our faces. "What the fuck, Joong? You said you flipped the damn sign!" Seonghwa's frustration was palpable as he rose to his feet. "I thought I did, swear to God," I replied, hurriedly pulling up my boxers and pants before grabbing my shirt. "Well, obviously he didn’t," San scoffed, pulling himself from Wooyoung along with Yeosang.

Wooyoung let out a broken whimper as emptiness washed over him. "No... come back... please," his eyes pleading with San. "Are you so cocky drunk you didn’t even hear Y/n catch us?" Yeosang lifted Wooyoung's chin to meet his gaze, wiping away leftover tears. Wooyoung's dumbfounded expression said it all.

"And where are you going?" Jongho's voice halted my steps toward the door. "I have to go check on her," I replied, glancing back at them. "What if you don’t, and we just keep going, and she forgets about this?" Mingi suggested, still occupied with Yunho. "Joong's right. We didn't double-check the sign, and she deserves an explanation," Yunho spoke, eyes fixed on Mingi and his actions.

Ignoring further debate, I left the room and walked up the stairs to Y/n's room. As I approached, I noticed her sign was flipped to "CLOSED," and the door was locked, so I knocked. No response came from the other side, so I let her know who it was. "Y/n, please let me in. I’ll explain everything," I pleaded, my voice betraying a slight tremor.

"It's okay, Hongjoong. You don’t have to explain anything to me. I can just forget about it," Y/n's voice echoed from behind the door. "Please, you deserve an apology and an explanation. Just open the door," I urged.

After a moment of silence, I heard a sigh, and then the door clicked. Taking it as a sign, I opened the door to find Y/n motioning for me to sit beside her on the bed.

(Author’s perspective)

Hongjoong walks into your room and takes the spot that you previously motioned for him to sit in. "I understand that was a lot to witness," Hongjoong began, his voice tinged with genuine remorse. "I am so deeply sorry for not double-checking the sign. I should have remembered the text I sent before getting caught up."

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his apology. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap.

“Hongjoong, I understand that mistakes happen and I forgive you," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "To me, love is love, no matter how many people, race, gender, or any other factor. I just wish you would have given some kind of heads up before I moved in. Not that I would have not still moved in, just that it wouldn’t have been so shocking to see, you know?”

Your words seemed to calm Hongjoong, his tense posture relaxing slightly as he nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I get that," he murmured. "I was so scared you wouldn’t even give moving in a thought if you found out too early. I guess I didn’t think about how much worse it would be if you just had to find out on your own.”

As you finally summoned the courage to meet his gaze, you were met with a sight that only served to reignite the turmoil within you. The slight lustful glaze in Hongjoong's eyes and the dampness of his skin from his previous activities with Seonghwa sent a shiver down your spine.

It was as if the memory of that scene rushed back to you in vivid detail, the image of Wooyoung, beautiful and alluring, under the will of San and Yeosang. The room had smelled of hot, enticing passion, igniting desires you dared not acknowledge.

With each glance at Hongjoong, your mind wandered, imagining scenarios you knew you shouldn't entertain. Yet, despite your efforts to push them down, the thoughts persisted, leaving you tangled in a web of temptation and uncertainty.

You must have lingered in silence for a bit too long because the next thing you hear is Hongjoong calling your name with a voice laced with concern. "Mhm," you mumbled absentmindedly, your mind still emerged in the unwavering imagination.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Hongjoong's question cut through the fog of your thoughts, prompting you to finally register the tension that hung heavy in the air. You have brought your thighs together in a rather tight manner and you can feel the flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

"No, no. Not at all," you stammered, your words faltering as you struggled to regain your composure. "It's just a lot going on, but I'm okay. We're okay, all of us, for that matter. I'm sure you're being missed, so you can head back."

You rose from your seat abruptly, an attempt to dismiss the lingering tension that hung between you. "You're not telling me something, what's wrong?" His voice held a silent plea for honesty. You averted your gaze, as your breath hitches.

"There's nothing, honestly," you replied, your voice trying to sound as calm as possible. "I'm just tired. I've been shopping and filming all day."

Hongjoong's see’s through your facade like glass, a knowing smirk forming upon his lips. With a sudden boldness, he closed the distance between you, his hand finding purchase on your hips.

"You liked what you saw, didn’t you, Y/n?" His words hung in the air, a challenge laced with an undeniable lure. Your breath catches in your throat as his touch sends shivers down your spine and makes your mind race.

“Huh! No I-I’m just tired!” Hongjoong's grip tightened, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together, chest to chest.

"You're lying, and you're bad at it," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "If you wanted to join, all you had to do was ask instead of running away like a brat." His words echoed in the stillness. You found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his, captured by the magnetic pull of his presence.

"I'm going to ask you this, and you're going to tell the truth. " Hongjoong continued, his tone commanding. "Do you want to come back downstairs with me so the boys and I can give you all you're imagining right now, or are you going to lose your opportunity and never get to experience how good we can make you feel?"

As the weight of his words settled over you, you felt your resolve crumble, surrendering to the overwhelming temptation that beckoned you forward. With a breathless exhale, you whispered your answer, your knees trembling with anticipation.

"Yes, please, take me with you" you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. And in that moment, as desire and longing intertwined, you knew that there was no turning back.

[roryculkinluvr]

hii i luv ur work been a fan for a while now & i figured since u write a lot abt charlie mayb ud be comfortable w writing about charlie + reader sleeping peacefully until charlie gets woken up by reader whos having a wet dream, he’s a bit embarrassed about it but also turned on, he decides to wake reader up whos clueless at first but then remembers their dream, they end up having sex to cure their hornyness hihi

SLEEPLESS ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

pairing: switch charlie walker x switch fem reader

warnings: established relationship, smut, sexual themes, wet dream, unprotected p in v, aftercare

notes : i love this idea so much and had so much fun writing it! i’m not sure how well i did with this so feedback is highly appreciated :)! thank you for all of your support with the request, you’re so sweet mwah ♡

you were wrapped in charlie’s arms, your head rested on his chest as you both slept. he held you so close as your body began shifting in his embrace, mumbles of his name leaving your lips.

as charlie was a light sleeper, after a few quiet calls of his name, he woke up. “yeah?” he replied, still half asleep. you didn’t answer. charlie lifted his head slightly, attempting to look at your face. “y/n?” he whispered.

“mmm fuck.” you swore under your breath, “feels good char.” charlie’s eyes widened as he finally clued in, you were having a wet dream about him. his cheeks turned crimson, so flustered by his own discovery.

it goes without saying that you and charlie had already had sex, many times. it was the fact that you dreamt about it that drove him crazy. he couldn’t describe how he felt, proud yet embarrassing but overall turned on.

charlie could feel himself growing hard, your sighs of pleasure and groans only made it worse. he was trying his best to ignore it. he tried his best to pretend he wasn’t imagining your tight cunt wrapped around him or watching your tits bounce as you rode him.

“please char.” you mumbled. just those words alone forced a hushed whimper out of him.

after a few minutes of the sounds of your muffled moans, charlie simply couldn’t take it any more; he was painfully hard. he propped himself up onto his elbow, gently shaking your arm with his other hand. “baby wake up, are you okay?” he asked gently.

“m’okay, why?” you replied, your voice was raspy and your eyes were still shut.

“you were saying my name, that’s all.” charlie didn’t know how to go about this; he didn’t want to embarrass you, or himself.

“no i wasn’t?” you mumbled. you slowly opened your eyes, looking up at him while your head remained on his chest.

“yeah you were. you were swearing and saying my name, so i wanted to check on you.” charlie gave you a warm smile, pushing down his thoughts which were running wild.

while trying to get more comfortable, after being woken up by your “concerned” boyfriend, you moved your leg which pressed against charlie’s boner. he prayed to god that you didn’t notice, but spoiler alert, you most definitely did.

“must have been my dream, sorry for waking you up.” you told him in a low, sultry voice after catching on to what your boyfriend was initially insinuating.

“what was your dream about?” he asked you, trying to sound like he didn’t already know the answer.

“you.” was all you said before moving so you were on top of charlie, his arms wrapped around your back. “seems like you liked what i was saying, is that why you woke me up?” you teased.

“yeah, um, yeah. what uh, what were we doing in your dream?” he asked. charlie found you impossibly hot, anything you did in that moment would’ve just turned him on more and more.

“you were on top of me.” you purred, charlie’s eyes widened.

“fuck.” he huffed. you brought your lips to his neck, leaving a trail of kisses to his lips. “can we, do you want to—” he began.

“if you want to fuck then yes.” you interrupted. with that, charlie flipped you over so you were under him. usually you’d tease charlie or make him beg, but that night you were just as needy as he (always) was. he swiftly pulled off your oversized pyjama shirt, charlie’s eyes widened as the sight of your bare chest as revealed from under the thin cotton of your shirt.

he pulled his top off next, immediately crashing his lips into your afterwards. if charlie was on top, he’d usually take a moment to admire you. he’d feel and praise your every inch of your body before he fucked you, but as i said, the two of you were desperate.

he pushed your underwear to the side, pulling his hard cock out of his boxers and aligned himself with your entrance. “i love it when you let me take care of you baby, you look so pretty under me… you always look so, so beautiful.” he told you.

“you’re so sweet to me cher, so perfect.” you smiled at him before he pushed himself into you. he went slow at first, easing his way into the fast pace you both desperately needed.

“so sexy.” charlie muttered. he knew he wasn’t going to last long as his gaze shifted from your face to your tits (again). he took one in his hand, kneading it as he thrusted in you.

“feels so good mmm fuck.” you moaned as felt charlie bottom out inside you, he did this slowly a few times before returning to a faster pace.

“you like that baby.” charlie smirked as a drawn out groan left your lips, he took that as a yes.

“you can— you can go faster char, you’re not hurting me i promise.” you were panting, stumbling over your words, this only turned charlie on more. “please.”

as the plead left your mouth, he began pounding into you. honestly, you weren’t expecting this from charlie it was unlike him. he’d usually be under you, begging you to let him cum, but knowing you were dreaming of him taking control, of him being on top, gave him a boost in confidence.

“baby ugahhh you feel so fucking good.” charlie groaned. his brain went fuzzy as whimpers and babbled spilled from his mouth, poor charlie was barely able to form words as he fucked you. “mmmaughhh, m’gonna fuck i’m gonna cum. m’so close!” he whined.

“cum inside me, need you to fill me up.” you told him.

“okay, fuck, okay baby.” was all he said before he finished, his warm cum filling your cunt. “m’gonna keep going, want you to cum too.” he panted.

you reached down to play with your clit as charlie’s cock hit your g spot perfectly with each thrust. “m’close.” you huffed.

the room filled with both of your high pitched moans until you came on his dick.

while you both calmed down, charlie held you close to his chest as your fingers played with his curls. “you should let me do that more often, like be on top. i mean, you were kinda dreaming about it.” he teased, laughing softly.

you rolled your eyes at him playfully “oh shut up” you joked. “you like it when i’m in control.” you giggled, kissing your boyfriend’s cheek.

charlie rolled his eyes right back at you, in such a way that accepted that you were right. “fine, now i’ll get us cleaned up.” he kissed your lips gently before wiping you down with a wet towel and helping you get dressed in his pjs.

you both whispered your ‘i love you’s before drifting back to sleep in each others arms.

[kitthepurplepotato]

MWRMI Part 6

My Weird Roomate, Midoriya Izuku

Week 3 part 2 / Meet the Gang!

~•🥦•~

Summary: Y/N learns about Midoriya’s past and the gang’s secret tattoos. …?!

Also, why is Kirishima half-naked all of the sudden?!

Warnings: Swear words, hints of suggestiveness (they tell “funny” stories, 2 sentences, really.) a tiny hint of platonic (?) jealousy.

First Part Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“OH MY GOD, THATS RED RIOT THAT’S FUCKING RED RIOT, Midoriya!”

Okay, listen.

Red Riot doesn’t have a fan base; he has a fucking cult.

That guy had the glow up of the century after going through puberty.

Red Riot? More like Red Daddy.

No jokes, people say that quite a lot when they are talking about the hero. He’s so liked for his looks he actually managed to beat Dynamight and Deku on the “best looking bachelor” charts.

Red Riot barely had any presence in the hero world for his first few years; he had no confidence and he really didn’t think he can be a good hero or at least that’s what he’d said in the interviews. Then Dynamight took him under his wings, took him away from his last agency and that’s when the name Red Riot became a phenomenon; he got even more ripped and grew his hair out but still kept it red, just one shade darker; it’s shorter at the front and really long at the back which makes him look like a lion; majestic and frightening when fighting a villain. His close relationship with Dynamight also helped the blonde to get a better reputation, which he definitely needed at the beginning of his career; Dynamight might have been the one who saved the redhead first, but to be honest, they both saved each other from themselves.

Needless to say, the two heroes are constantly shipped by the fandom, and reading Bakugou’s rants on his official social media about it always makes your day better. Once he posted a picture about Red Riot sprawled out on his lap after a night out, drooling like a Rottweiler all over his trousers with the caption “Do you really think I would ever kiss that mouth?”, but people focused on the intimacy of the photo instead of it’s meaning. The blonde got so furious he deleted himself from the internet for two weeks.

Red Riot also admitted that he absolutely lives for Dynamight’s rants, so sometimes he stirs shit up just to get a reaction out of the blonde; he posts domestic pictures of Bakugou making breakfast in nothing but boxers and other shenanigans like that. The picture is usually followed by a selfie of him being beaten up by his best friend for being a menace or a screenshot of him being blocked on every social media when he’s away on a mission (because of course he has a secret stash of domestic pictures hidden in his phone, who wouldn’t?)

Ahh, you can talk about these two for ages, they are the funniest pair, like ever.

Midoriya giggles at your sudden outburst while you try your best to hide behind the sofa out of embarrassment.

“Aww, thank you!” The redhead smirks. “It’s always a pleasure to be adored by a beautiful lady like yourself.”

You don’t have time to really react to his sudden flirting because the air fills with tension for some weird reason; Midoriya stops smiling, black whip caresses your back and wraps around your body protectively. He looks furious and also does Bakugou, but his anger is pointed at you; if looks would kill, you would be dead by now.

“It’s a bit cold, isn’t it, Y/N? You should change into something warm before you catch a cold.” Midoriya smiles, but it’s more frightening than cute this time. Damn, if you would be a villain and he would look at you like that, you’d 100% piss yourself.

“I have no idea what the actual fuck is going on right now but I’m gonna sit down.” A purple haired, tired looking guy sighs and makes his way to the sofa like the time didn’t just freeze for a second. Honestly, you have no idea what’s going on either.

“Let me explain!” Chargebolt claps his hands happily. “Bakugou’s being a a possessive dick over his best friend, and Midoriya is the same with his roommate. Why? Don’t ask me.” He gives you a reassuring smile.

“This is why I’ll be single forever, Y/N. Don’t be like me.” The redhead sighs, also sitting down. Midoriya lets you go while mumbling ‘sorry’ but he doesn’t look sorry at all.

“What do you mean, Eijirou? Is Katsuki’s marvelous presence not enough for you to be happy? Aww, poor boy.” Pinky speaks up, clearly enjoying the drama. She looks even prettier in real life.

“Say another word, you pink bitch, and I’ll mount your stupid horny head on my wall.” Bakugou snaps, his face a lovely shade of red. Chargebolt blurts out a quiet ‘damn’ and hides behind the sofa, right behind the purple dude who just sighs at Kaminari’s shenanigans.

“Aww, is my face is so pretty you want to see it every day? That’s so cute, Bakubro!” Mina coos and that’s when shit hits the fan; you quietly leave the room to change as per Midoriya’s advice (what the fuck was that about? Yeah, you are wearing comfy shorts but so is he.) while Red Riot hardens between his two friends, acting like a shield to stop them from killing each other. After a few minutes, the yelling stops; apparently, their pizza order is more important than an impromptu mass murder.

It takes you a while before you have the guts to go back so you can properly meet Midoriya’s chaotic friends; you still have no idea what made the two friends so mad, but to be fair, Bakugou is known to blow up for no reason at all, so maybe you were just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Hey.” Midoriya’s green head pops in through the door. He looks a bit flushed and a little bit guilty. He’s absolutely adorable. “Can I come in?”

“I was just about to go out, but yeah.” You mumble, your voice strained from the stress. Deku closes the door and leans back to it; his face is contorted into a frown but he tries his best to give you a smile.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that to you. I had no right to treat you that way.” The greenette is clearly beating himself up for his actions and it brakes your heart.

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” Midoriya jumps in. “Eijirou is a nice guy, he talks like that to everyone. Bakugou is a possessive asshole over all his friends, especially him. I was so excited for you to meet my closest friends yet I fucked it up.”

Oh no, not the teary eyes. You can’t handle the teary eyes right now.

“Midoriya…” you move closer to the slumped greenette, taking his hand into yours. He looks at you with the cutest lovelorn expression. “Stop looking at me like that. I really want to hug you tight when you do that.”

You really didn’t mean to say that. You really didn’t.

“Then hug me, Y/N.” Midoriya says, a new kind of emotion swirling in his beautiful eyes. Your body moves on its own as you embrace your favorite hero with such passion that Midoriya’s back hits the door with a loud bang from the force of it. You can hear his heart beating loud and fast when your face hits his chest as you squeeze the shit out of the poor guy. The hero’s hand ends up in your hair, slowly massaging your scalp while he takes a deep breath to calm his racing heart. Midoriya lets your hand go and pulls you even closer by the small of your back; your bodies clash with each other completely as Midoriya melts into your touch; his muscles feel amazing under your cheeks. You’ve never felt so content in your life.

Okay, this hug is way too passionate to be called “friendly”. You are about to pass out. He smells so amazing, like pine and sea salt with a hint of spice, masculine and earthy. The world stops for a second, Midoriya’s friends on the other side completely forgotten as the two of you embrace each other, your true feelings showing without you even saying them out loud.

This is when reality really hits you; you don’t just have a crush on this guy; you are absolutely fucking smitten with him already.

Ahh, you are so fucked.

“STOP MAKING OUT, YOU FUCKERS!” Bakugou ruins the moment with his yelling. When you two realize the situation you are in, you jump away from each other with a “sorry”, like two emotionally constipated teenagers.

“Maybe they are just having a fight.” A tired voice mumbles, probably the purple haired guy you don’t know yet.

“With their mouths, yeah.” Pinky giggles mischievously. If your face wasn’t red enough before, now it is.

“I mean, can you blame him? Y/N is cute as hell.” Motherfucking Red Riot comments and that’s when Midoriya opens the door with a flushed face.

“Can we start this all over?” Midoriya yelps. His friends try their best to not comment on their disheveled appearance for the sake of you and nod in unison. “This is Y/N, my FLATMATE. She takes care of the flat when I’m not around.”

“She takes care of more than that by the look of it…” Chargebolt whispers into Jirou’s ears, who slaps the guy on his head to shut him up. Jirou is a great friend. You love her. “You know Kacchan and Jirou already, then you have Kirishima Eijirou, but you also know that, Kaminari Denki, Ashido Mina, Shouto Todoroki who doesn’t speak too much but he’s one of my closest friends and Shinsou Hitoshi who you might remember from the sports festival. He works with Aizawa-sensei as an underground hero so his face isn’t well known but he’s amazing.”

“I still don’t know why am I here today” Shinsou mumbles, clearly hating the fact that he was forced to come over. He doesn’t look like a guy who enjoys being in a large group.

“You are here because you are important to us, and I can’t believe I need to have this conversation with you after all these years.” Kaminari sighs, looking at the purple haired hero with disappointment in his eyes. Shinsou looks back at him with a guilty expression, showing the yellow haired man with his shoulder in a silent sorry.

Wow, you ship them. So much.

Damn, you really need to stop reading gay fanfictions when Midoriya is not home.

“Now that we all said hi, it’s time to embarrass Midoriya!” Chargebolt speaks up energetically. “Which story should we start with?”

“Guys, please!” Midoriya pulls you to the sofa while hiding his face with his other hand in embarrassment. You sit down next to each other while the group fights over which story should they tell.

“His first almost-kiss!”

“What about the time when Katsuki saw him doing nasty things in his room?”

“That’s not an embarrassing story, I literally thought he’s not into that shit until that moment. I was proud of him.”

“KACCHAN!” Midoriya hides his face in your neck in embarrassment and you try your best to not explode. Jirou looks at you with pity in her eyes.

“What about his secret tattoo?” Kirishima chimes in, and you perk up; you really like tattoos and you always wanted one. “Ahh, she likes that! So it happened on Katsuki’s 21st birthday…”

“Oh my god…” Deku mumbles, still hiding in your neck. “You might not like me that much after tonight, Y/N” he sighs, making your whole body tingle with his hot breath caressing your sensitive skin.

“I’m a loyal fan.” You deadpan. It’s really hard to concentrate on the story right now to be honest.

“So we were really drunk when Tetsutetsu and his gang came over and challenged us to a fight. The loser gang had to get a tattoo. The fuckers knew we are too drunk to realize they are all sober so they beat us to pulp. We woke up the next day with new tattoos. On our… bottoms.” Kirishima looks down with a flushed face. “I have a rock, you wanna see?” Kirishima excitedly jumps up, ready to show you his sick tattoo, but Bakugou is having non of it.

“Eijirou, if you pull your pants down in front of everyone I’ll absolutely kick you out of my house.” He whispers threateningly, his hands ready to block the view. Kirishima sits down with a sad puppy look.

“It’s not that far down!” The redhead whines, but gives up anyway. “Please, don’t kick me out, I fucking love the sauna and I also own the half of the flat.”

So Red Riot and Dynamight bought a flat together. Interesting.

Would it be weird to write a fanfiction about that, now that you know them in person? Probably.

The life of a hero fangirl is really hard sometimes.

“I have a Pikachu!” Kaminari chimes in proudly.

“I have a Hypno. Thanks for that, Denki…” Shinsou mumbles, clearly hating his teen self for being so stupid.

“I wanted us to match!”

“You have no reason to moan, Hitoshi, I have a fucking pinky tattooed on my bum.” Mina admits shamefully. The whole team bursts out laughing at the old memory.

“I have a picture of soba noodles. That’s my favorite food.” Todoroki declares with a straight face, like it’s a pretty normal thing to have your favorite food tattooed on your bottom.

“I have headphones! Like the ones I use when I fight the bad guys!”

“Mine was a small explosion but it was too boring so I made it into a massive one.” Bakugou pulls his shirt up, showing off a massive tattoo on his side. Wow, it’s really hot in here. Like, really really hot. Damn. You can’t believe no one ever realized that Dynamight has so many tattoos hidden under his shirt. The other side of him is also full of ink, but you can’t see enough of it to be able to decipher what it is exactly.

“Why can you show yours but I can’t show mine? It’s not fair!” Kirishima grumbles. “You know what, you can’t tell me what to do.” Kirishima slowly unbuttons his shirt and shows you a massive black and red dragon on his chest. So this is why the hero changed his costume into something less revealing. He’s hiding a fucking beast under it.

You might die tonight.

There is no way your heart can take more of this shit.

Where is the water? You are kind of thirsty. Respectfully… thirsty. For water.

Yeah.

“Can you guys stop stripping? I have a broccoli by the way. Not like anyone cares at this point.” Midoriya pouts and it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Midoriya, that’s so fucking cute!” You yell, the two stripping heroes long forgotten. “Colored or black and white?”

Midoriya perks up now that your attention is back on him, a shy smile decorating his face.

“Colored. It matches my hair. I know most of us are ashamed of these tattoos but I really like it. It reminds me of my friends. It reminds me that I’m not alone anymore.” Midoriya smiles into the distance. “It reminds me that whatever happens, there will be someone there to catch me when I fall. We are a family.”

“That was so manly, goddamn it!” Kirishima cries, tears falling down his cheeks.

“What the fuck, shitty Deku, this was supposed to be fun, now I want to throw myself off a cliff!” Katsuki rolls his eyes aggressively but he can’t hide the fond smile when he looks at his crying flatmate.

“No worries buddy, Midoriya will be there to catch you!” Mina giggles, clearly having the time of her life as she looks at the three boys.

“Now you ruined it.” Midoriya mumbles, unimpressed. You really tried not to laugh, but seeing all these people taking the piss out of each other made you laugh out loud. You’ll never forget tonight, that’s for sure. These people are truly amazing.

After a few more minutes of banter the pizza arrives; Midoriya puts in a DVD with some old interviews and they all laugh at their awkward faces on the screen. The whole situation is so intimate, everyone is so close to the other, limbs and arms intertwined with each other while fond smiles are being exchanged when someone new appears on the screen. The guys tell you about Ingenium’s matching bum tattoo - he has a pair of glasses -, and about the time Jirou fell on the stage; you hear a bunch of stories the public have never heard about while Midoriya snuggles closer and closer as the night turns into an early morning… your heart swells from the happiness to be able to be a part of something so private without feeling like an intruder. The group welcomes you with open arms, letting you in without a question.

“Can I tell the story about Katsuki almost exploding his dick of when he tried to…” Denki mumbles half asleep, but Katsuki gives him a massive slap before he can finish the sentence.

“Midoriya had a girlfriend in high school for a few weeks but he was so wind up about their first kiss he threw up right in front of the poor girl. We haven’t seen her since. She changed schools.” Another half asleep mumble, this time from Kirishima, who somehow ended up sprawled out on everyone’s laps on the sofa.

“I think Denki’s bisexual awakening is a good story to tell. It was the first time I actually laughed in front of everyone. He’s helpless.” Todoroki chimes in, probably the only one still fully awake from the team.

“Says the guy who wanted to call an ambulance on a girl who blushed and didn’t even realize she was trying to ask him out.”

You have no idea who’s talking anymore. It’s almost 5 AM and Midoriya is so warm next to you, you can’t help but hide your face in his arms. You can feel Midoriya’s hands stroking your hair, the affectionate caress slowly lulling you to sleep.

“I’ll put Y/N to bed, you guys get comfortable. You know where to find the spare bedding, yeah?” Midoriya takes you in his arms, moving you towards your bedroom. The group mumbles incoherently, clearly ready to sleep as the hero puts you down on the soft sheets, tugging you in like a child. Something soft touches your forehead but you are too sleepy to react; it feels nice and warm like the sun on a breezy afternoon.

“Sleep tight, sweet pea. See you tomorrow.”Someone whispers. The nickname makes you smile subconsciously. “I don’t want to leave, to be honest. I always want to be around you, I wonder why.” You can still hear the mumbles but you can’t understand the words anymore; it’s too late and you are too tired to keep listening.

You dream about green curls and soft touches, about the stars and the moon, so close yet so far away, you dream about touching the sky, about reaching out for the brightest star only to fall back down on Earth, but you stand up and try again, until your hand reaches the one with the scars, until your fingers intertwine and you never let go again.

~•🥦•~

“Maybe it’s the cold of the night. Such a drastic change compared to the warmth of the day… I’ve never felt cold before but I probably didn’t even know how the warmth felt like on my skin until I’ve met you. Now that I know, I’m craving it. So much. You are like the sun, Y/N. Please, never change; and stay by my side for a bit longer, until I’m strong enough to let you go. I hope you’re sleeping. It will be really awkward if you’re not.” Midoriya giggles and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

Midoriya Izuku really needs to get a grip, he thinks as he makes his way to his own bedroom, already hating the cold feeling of his sheets.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

Damn, that ending. DAMN.

Fun fact, that bit wasn’t planned. At all. It just happened. The hug wasn’t planned either. It’s all Midoriya’s fault.

- I also feel like I owe you guys an explanation for the iffy jealousy scene: in Midoriya’s case it was 50% jealousy and 50% protectiveness. He doesn’t really understand his own feelings yet and he couldn’t really handle that situation very well. He’ll get much better at it in the future. Midoriya was never a possessive person but Y/N told him he can be a bit selfish sometimes and he listened. He’s growing as a person it’s just really hard to tell. He’s such a weirdo I love him 🥦

- Ao3 is down and I want to cry.

Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated as always 🥦💚

Taglist: @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @momothemasocist

[kooruphobic]

HANDS OFF — jean kirschtein/reader

𓆩♡𓆪 notes : is this self-indulgent? yes. am i still going to publish it? ...yes. 𓆩♡𓆪 tags : modern au, jealousy, teasing, fluff and smut, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex, nipple play, finger sucking, name-calling, dirty talk, creampie, multiple orgasms, degradation, praise kink, thigh riding, begging, crying, overstimulation, cunnilingus, aftercare (kind of), mentioned eren yeager, jean is a little insecure

𓆩♡𓆪 word count : 3.8k

𓆩♡𓆪 summary : jean can't keep his hands off his girlfriend; you. so when you tell him to keep his hands off for the rest of the night, and in return, you'd let him do anything to you when you got home, he accepts your challenge. but jean has to take you home a little early because you can't stop teasing him.

𓆩♡𓆪 also posted on ao3

You swore you were going to kill whoever designed your dress. 

 For the past ten minutes, you struggled to pull up the zipper in the back. Mentally, you cursed yourself out for not picking the one without one. The zipper wasn’t even stuck on the fabric around the sides; it just wouldn't go up no matter how hard you tried.

Jean watched you struggle, offering to help but falling silent when you snapped at him and said no. You didn’t tell him no because you didn't want help; Jean just found it extremely hard to keep his hands off you once he touched you.

“You know, I can help. I won’t do anything, promise.”

“That’s what you said last time,” you huff, dropping your arms in defeat. “We were twenty minutes late to that restaurant. Do you know how many annoyed texts I got from Sasha?”

You feel Jean's arms wrap around your waist. “C’mon, just let me help.” 

“Jean, I swear to fucking god, get your hands off me.”

“You look so good in this dress,” he mutters, kissing along your neck, “but you would look better with it off.”

“Jean.”

“You can’t even zip it up all the way. It’s a sign from the universe.” He drags one of your dress straps down your shoulder.

“Jean.”

Jean presses his lips against yours, letting his hands roam across your body, tracing every curve and crevice. You try to push him away, but you find yourself wrapping your arms around his neck. Your legs go weak as he drags your dress strap further down your shoulder. He pushes you against your vanity, and your fingers find purchase in his hair. You pull him closer to you, but when Jean’s fingers begin to unhook your exposed bra, your phone starts buzzing.

You come to your senses and push him off you, glancing at your phone to see it’s Connie calling.

“Ignore it,” Jean says, reaching for your phone. You slap his arm away.

“I won’t answer, but you need to stop doing that.”

He smiles. “Doing what?” 

“You know what I fucking mean. My lipgloss is ruined ‘cause of you. Now help me zip up my dress, and let’s go.”

“Can you really blame me?” Jean sighs, reaching his hands up to your zipper and pulling it up. He readjusts your dress strap and places another kiss on your shoulder. “You’re too pretty.”

“I promise you can kiss me all you want when we get home,” you say, sliding off the vanity. 

“Can I do other things, too?”

“If you keep your hands off me all night, I’ll let you.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Business. That’s what Jean was focused on. Eren invited you both to a big party for his brother Zeke’s company, celebrating their latest success with new locations in another country. Jean didn’t pay much attention to the other details because he was too focused on you the entire time Eren talked to him. His words went in one ear and out the other. All he had in mind was that you both were here for business. That’s it.

Jean was confident at first. He didn’t hold your hand, didn’t put his hand on your thigh, or even bother to talk to you for half the night. Instead, he focused on catching up with his friends, who he hadn’t seen in so long. All that confidence was totally drained when you innocently walked up to him and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, then disappeared into the crowd without saying a word. He tried looking for you everywhere but didn’t find you until everyone sat down for dinner.

You and Jean sat together, with the rest of your friends. You tried to sit across from him rather than right next to him, but he moved as soon as you did, so you gave up and remained in your seat. 

“Why the fuck did you do that earlier?” he whispered.

“Do what?” you smiled at him. 

“You know what I fucking mean. I thought you said I needed to—”

“You haven’t failed, have you? I never said that I needed to keep my hands off, Jean. Just you.”

He struggled the rest of the night. You ran your hand along his thigh, kissed him when nobody was looking, and whispered how good he looked in his ear. You were driving him insane. Absolutely fucking insane. 

Jean really lost it when you grabbed his hand and placed it on your waist while you spoke to your friends. You told him, “It’s okay if I’m moving your hands, just don’t do anything else when I do.” 

He had to count in his head to keep himself from doing anything else. He only gave one-word responses whenever one of your friends questioned him. When one of your friends asked if you two were dating, you simply smiled and told her you were just good friends.

“We need to leave. Now,” Jean muttered when your friends walked away. 

“Hm, why?” you asked, turning to him.

He didn’t even give you a response. He just dragged you out of the building and shoved you into his car, staying silent the entire ride home.

“Do you think you’re fucking funny?” he says, slamming your bedroom door shut.

“What? What did I do?” you question, feigning innocence.

“Don’t play dumb with me. How is it fair that I can’t touch you, but you can?”

“Excuse me?” you retort. “How is it fair that you can touch me all you want and make us late when we actually have to go somewhere? You think that’s fucking fair—”

“You let me. Every single time, you let me. Don’t act like you don’t love the way I touch you.”

He’s right. You do love the way he touches you, and even though ever since you’ve gotten with him, he’s made you late for just about everything—you’d let him keep doing it. But there’s a part of you that wants to lie, a part of you that wants to keep your confidence and ego safe.

“Please. I fucking hate it. I heard Eren does it better,” you scoff, glaring at him.

A feeling of jealousy bubbles up within Jean. What the fuck are you mentioning Eren for?

“So you think of Eren every time I kiss you?” he asks, backing you up against your bedroom door. “You think of Eren every time I put my fingers inside you?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from smiling. You rarely see Jean get angry, but when he does, he’s just so fucking hot.

“Maybe I do."

“And you’re thinking of Eren right now?”

“Maybe I am, Jean. What the fuck are you going to do about it?”

You tilt your head to the side, glaring up at him. You try to mask your nervousness with a confident smile. You’ve forgotten that Jean is extremely tall. Way taller than you. And the way he’s staring down at you could not possibly mean anything good is going to happen.

“Once I’m fucking done with you,” he whispers, “you’re gonna forget his name. Because the only name coming from your mouth will be mine.”

You open your mouth to say something, but your words are silenced and forgotten when Jean presses his lips against yours. He doesn’t waste his time being gentle. His arms wrap around your waist, and he slams you against the door, pressing you so hard against it you swear it would break. Your mind goes blank, and soon your thoughts are only him. You can only focus on his mouth, his touch, him. 

Your brain fails to register what happens in the next minute because your dress is suddenly on the floor, and you’re on the bed beneath him. His mouth is off yours, and you get the chance to breathe; in the next second, your breath is taken away again when he buries his face into your neck. You feel Jean’s lips, wet from your kiss, against your skin. You whine softly, but Jean still catches it. And then you feel him sucking, his teeth grazing, and his lips again, kissing the mark he’s made. The slight pain mixes with pleasure, sending shivers down your spine.

“You liked that, huh?” he teases, softly kissing the mark he’s made. 

“...No,” you lie.

“Really?” Jean brings one of his hands down to your panties, rubbing your slit through the fabric. “Cause your body’s telling me otherwise.”

“I’m not—” you can’t finish your sentence because he presses his finger against your clit, making you whine and squirm beneath him. He rubs small circles against it, applying more pressure every time you whimper. You close your eyes, trying to roll your hips forward to add to your pleasure.

“What’s wrong? It’s not enough?” he jeers. You whine and shake your head. “Use your words. Don’t get shy now.”

“You know what I want.”

“I don’t think I do. Look at me and tell me.”

Jean grabs your chin, and you open your eyes and look up at him. Your eyes are already begging for it, but when you open your mouth, those sweet pleas leave your lips, and he can’t help but give you what you want.

Jean tugs your panties down, kissing your inner thighs before sliding a finger over your slit. You’re already so wet; he slides two fingers in with ease. You clench around his fingers, and Jean can’t help but groan when you do. You’re so tight, so warm around his fingers. 

He keeps his fingers still for a few seconds before pumping them in and out of you, tantalizingly slow. You buck your hips against him, but he brings his free hand to your waist and holds you in place. Every time you squirm, trying to move your hips so he’d go deeper inside, he’d go even slower. 

“Please. Please, Jean. I’m sorry—”

“Are you really? Doesn’t seem like you are,” he says, tone calm. He rubs his thumb over your clit while keeping his fingers inside of you, relishing the way your thighs twitch. When you clench around him, he pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to your mouth. You whine at the loss of contact but open your mouth for him, sucking and swirling your tongue around his fingers. “Bet you wish these were Eren’s fingers, huh?”

Your thighs clench at his words, and you shake your head as he removes his fingers from your mouth. He laughs mockingly, bringing his head down to your chest. His fingers skillfully unhook your bra, and he carelessly tosses it to the side. 

Jean moves his mouth to one of your tits. You shiver when you feel his tongue against your nipple. He blows slightly, and the cool air mixed with Jean’s saliva makes the soft bud harden.

Jean’s tongue runs over your nipple again before he takes the entirety of your breast in his mouth. Jean brings his free hand to the other, groping the soft flesh, flicking his finger over your hardening nipple. He sucks and licks harder on the other. You feel his teeth graze your nipple and gasp.

He switches with his hand, giving your other nipple the same attention he did as the first. When he’s done, and his mouth leaves your tit, a soft, lewd, pop sound fills the room.

“Jean,” you whine, pussy throbbing and needy, “please. Please just—”

“Shh. We’re getting there.” 

He places gentle kisses along your stomach, murmuring how pretty you are as he does. You shiver when he reaches between your thighs. Jean’s breath tickles your clit; then his mouth latches onto it, tongue circling. He grazes his teeth against it before placing kisses along your wet folds. “So fuckin’ wet for me,” he murmurs. You feel him lick along your slit, then his tongue prods your entrance, and he lingers there—teasingly—before he plunges his tongue into your warm, wet pussy. 

“F-fuck,” you moan, fingers finding purchase in his hair. Jean teases you, tongue-fucking you slowly, just as he did with his fingers. “More, please give me more.” 

To your surprise, he listens to you this time, and he begins to work his tongue faster inside of your pussy. Your thighs clench around him, earning a low groan from him. His voice sends shivers up your spine, and you shut your eyes, lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. 

When your thighs would clench around his head impossibly tighter, he removed his mouth from your wet pussy and sucked your clit before returning his tongue to where it was. He was stalling, stopping you from coming undone before him. It was torture. But he knew you loved it so much.

“Jean… Jean, I need to cum. Please, please let me—” you whine as he removes himself from you yet again, but this time, moving his head away from your thighs. He kisses you, shoving his tongue down your throat, so you know what you taste like. 

“You’ve been such a good girl so far,” he coos, kissing along your jaw, “just be good for a little while longer, okay?”

You nod, eyes flickering down to his pants. He was still fully clothed, and you were entirely bare for him. It made you feel a little embarrassed. 

“I want you to do something for me,” he whispers, pulling you up as he sits against the headboard, “I want you to ride my thigh.”

“...What?” your breath hitches in your throat, surprised at his sudden request. He had never asked you to do this before, not until today.

“You heard me.”

“But you still…have your clothes on.”

“Does it look like I care?” he repositions you, so you’re straddling his right thigh. “Ride my fucking thigh.”

Your swallow because, for some reason, your mouth has gone dry. Jean grabs your arms, places them around his neck, and looks at you expectantly. You avoid his gaze, experimentally grinding your hips against his thigh. You whine, pleasure shooting up into you, your pussy still sensitive and wet. 

“C’mon, you can do it,” Jean plants his hands on your waist. “Do it for me.”

You roll your hips again, harder this time, trying to create as much friction between his clothed thigh and your cunt as possible. Small whines and whimpers fall from your bruised lips as you rock back and forth, harder every time, trying to replicate the feeling of Jean inside you. He flexes his thigh, and even through the fabric of his pants, you can feel it. Jean smiles when you pull yourself closer to him, rutting yourself onto him like a bitch in heat.

“Keep going.” 

Jean’s words egg you on as you lay your forehead on his shoulder, losing yourself in pleasure. Jean watches—attentively, his pants feeling increasingly restrictive with every roll of your hips. As your hips stutter against him, he pushes you down into his thigh, watching your face contort in pleasure. A loud moan rips from your throat; your thighs clench, your pussy spasms around him, and waves of pleasure course through you as you ride your high out.

“Just like that. Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he groans. Jean kisses you for what seems like the hundredth time.

“Fuck. I just…”

“I know, I know,” he whispers, pulling you into him. “But I’m not done yet.”

“What? But I just came—”

Jean turns you over, pushing you down onto your back. In a second, his pants are discarded and forgotten on the floor, and he’s lifting your legs up so you can wrap them around his waist. “You have, but I haven’t. Take this as payback for pulling that shit tonight,” he grumbles. He tugs his boxers down, beads of pre-cum spilling from his tip. “You know how badly I wanted to fuck you when you kissed me? When everyone had their eyes off of us? I wanted to take you right then and there, fuck you while everyone watched. Give everyone at Zeke’s party a little show.” 

His words make you clench your thighs together. 

“You still thinkin’ about Eren?” Jean grunts, rubbing his tip against your sopping wet pussy. You try to respond; you’re still dizzy from your last orgasm. “Answer me, bitch.”

You shake your head, gazing at him through half-lidded eyes, pupils blown with lust. He scoffs, pushing himself inside of you, inch by inch. He could go all in if he wanted to because you’re so wet, but he decides to tease you; to make you feel every inch of him fill you up. “Maybe one day I’ll bring Eren over here. Have you suck him off while I fuck your tight pussy. I bet you’d like that, huh? Fucking slut.”

He’s gone from calling you a good girl to degrading you in a few minutes. Jean knows you like it. He knows you love it because he can feel your cunt squeeze around him at his words.

He finally bottoms out into you; a low, throaty groan rips from his throat. “F-fuck. You’re so fucking tight.”

Jean pushes himself impossibly deeper into you. He slides a hand under you and pulls you closer to him. Your pussy throbs, still sensitive. Jean fills you up so well. You feel so hot, so fucking hot, and Jean pulling you closer to him makes your skin feel like it's on fire.

“Jean…” you whine, eager for him to start moving. “Please. I need it so bad, please…”

He chuckles, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you what you want.”

He pulls his hips back so that his tip is barely inside you, making you whine, feeling so empty. But then he snaps his hips forward, groaning every time he does. He continues, thrusting in and out of you slowly—adoring how your eyes go wide every time his dick slams back inside you.

Jean tries to keep his slow pace, but you just feel so fucking good that he can’t. He begins to pick up the pace, slamming inside you over and over. Jean’s grip on your wrists tightens; you suck him in so well, like your pretty cunt was made for him.

Obscene sounds fill the room; the squelch of your tight, wet cunt and the sound of Jean’s hips slamming against yours. Jean lets go of your wrists and grabs the headboard of the bed, and once he does, he starts hitting that sweet spot inside of you that makes your vision blur. 

You squirm beneath him, hands gripping the bedsheets for dear life, failing to form coherent sentences from the pleasure. All you can moan is Jean’s name. His name rolls off your tongue—you keep repeating it, almost like a prayer.

Jean laughs when he hears you, smiling to himself as if he’s won some sort of prize. “Eren could never fuck you like this. You’re all mine. I’m the only one who can make you feel like this, huh? Moan my name louder.”

You oblige, squeezing around him as you do. It makes Jean actually moan, something you rarely hear. 

“Fuck. I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. I’d bet you’d like that, huh? And when we go see your friends again, you can go ahead and tell them we’re just ‘good friends’ while my cum is practically spilling out of your fucking pussy.” 

Your jaw goes slack; you’re unable to say Jean’s name. Tears blur your vision as he slams into you impossibly harder. You can feel every inch of him inside you, every slam of his hips. There’s a familiar feeling in your core, like a knot about to be untied. You try to say something, but all that comes out is a broken sob as he pounds into you. You try and meet him halfway with his thrusts, bucking your hips forward in a feeble attempt to cum.

“Shit,” Jean hisses, “don’t cum yet. Cum with me. I’m so close just—just hold on a little longer, okay?”

Jean feels the way you flutter around him. He swallows and notices the tear that rolls down your cheek. He feels a sense of guilt settle in his chest, but it also turns him on to know you’re crying because he’s making you feel good. 

Jean’s rhythm grows sloppy and inconsistent, and you can feel his cock twitch inside you. That sends you reeling over the edge. White hot sparks of pure pleasure course through you, coming at you nonstop as Jean continues to pump into you. You feel your limbs weaken as strings of broken moans leave your mouth.

Jean thrusts into you one last time, forceful and hard, before coating your insides with his cum. He moans, letting go of the headboard and slumping on top of you. 

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck…”

Jean pulls himself off you, watching the cum dribble out of you. He brings his mouth to your pretty cunt, tongue collecting the mix of both your fluids on his tongue. You twitch at the sensation, still sensitive but too fucked out to give a proper response.

“C’mere,” Jean says, pulling you towards him. He kisses you—softly this time—and you can taste yourself on his tongue. He then kisses you along your collarbone, whispering compliments. “You did so well for me.”

“Jean…” you mutter, body feeling weak.

“Hm?”

“You should get mad more often.”

He laughs and pulls you closer to him, absentmindedly tracing nonsensical shapes along your skin. He falls silent for a few moments. “Did you really mean what you said? About Eren, I mean. And hating my touch.”

You roll your eyes. “If I hated how you make me feel, do you think we would be here right now? And of course, I didn’t mean what I said about Eren. I’m dating you for a reason, y’know.”

“Can you tell me you love me?” he asks.

“Jean. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Please.”

You sigh and press a soft kiss on his cheek. “I love you.”

Jean doesn’t smile, but you see his eyes light up when you say it. “Okay, now that you’ve said that, can I ask you something else?”

“What?”

“Can you ride my thigh again?”

“...You’re kidding, right?”

“I thought you loved me.”

“Jesus Christ, Jean,” you grumble. “You’re so lucky I can’t feel my legs right now. Because I would have walked out the door.” 

“...So will you?”

You give him a judging look, but there’s a pleading look in his eyes that you can’t ignore. “Fine. I will. But you have to help me.” 

“Anything for you,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist.

Yeah, you're definitely going to kill whoever designed your dress.

𓆩♡𓆪 notes : got a lil lazy at the end, but this fic idea literally popped into my head at 3 in the morning and i just had to write it. my other wips are definitely death staring me rn...

hope you enjoyed!

[soulc-hilde]

Ch. 02 - Skeletal Crusader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Black!OC (Slow-burn)

Synopsis: Zarathos, a child, a daughter of God - but angel, first. The Angel of Justice and Vengence, a powerful entity and her father's strongest soldier. A clean up mission gone wrong, the angel is cut down and captured by the demons of Hell. Forced to work as a bounty hunter, she becomes a frightened member of the damned, now known as The Ryder. Unfortunately, her next hunt accompanies unwanted company.

Warning(s): Biblical figures mentioned and written out of canon, Supernatural creatures, Canon Violence, Lots of Swearing, Blasphemy, and anything else I might miss.

Divider by @anitalenia

Since the extinguish of the Seven Assholes, Zarathos has been suckered into a wild goose chase after her next target. An old witch who goes by the name of Ruby, if that’s her actual name or a new moniker to at least feel like her memories aren’t vanishing. That bitch has been hightailing it since The Ryder’s seen her at the abandoned house, chasing after her into the dark.

To be honest, Zarathos didn’t really know a whole lot about the demon. She was old yet younger than her, never vocal about her take on the civil war, and had a pungent smell. It wasn’t hard to follow her. All you had to do was inhale and if you nearly hurl your heart out, she’s close.

If there’s one thing about The Ryder, she wasn’t a dog. She’s a hunter. And she has another target buried in fucking Ohio.

Elizabethville used to be a town filled with half-dead, workaholics and even laid off alcoholics, but now it was home to a new era. Streets lined with bars, hookers, and addicts; the once abysmal town was lively. It was like a scene straight from Ocean’s Eleven yet the only thing being stolen were people’s souls.

Settled in the back of the rambunctious bar, Zarathos sips her whiskey neat while crowd watching. As her eyes cross over to the entrance, two familiar figures walk in, bags slung at their sides. Clenching the glass in her gasp, the hunter nearly bristles, gritting her teeth.

She watches as the two stand at the bar, amused smiles draping their chiseled features after the bartender walks away. Behind them, a man walks in, his aura lot more depressing than the atmosphere of the bar.

He reaches the pool table where another man plays. “Hi John,” he greets the man. His face didn’t convey an itch of emotion. The man, John, looks up with concern. “Reggie. Everything okay with you?”

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I’m just not feeling myself today.”

The Ryder leans forward, her eyes catching sight of the gun in his hands. She shakes her head, sitting back. It’s not like she’s a good guy nor a bad guy. All she does is follow her contract and serve justice where it’s needed, not her job to teach what decisions are good and vice versa.

Reggie raises the gun without blinking, firing a shot into the other man. The locals inside the bar scream, panic fills the room as everyone scatters for an escape far from the victim, his assailant, and the weapon. Just as Reggie aims the gun underneath his chin, Dean tackles him to the side and wrestles the gun from his hands.

Sam walks over, tentatively, and sprinkles bits of holy water onto the man. Zarathos’ nose scrunches at the smell, but the fumes weren’t enough to hide her amusement. Neither Reggie nor John were demons, this she knew. Instead, they were pawns. Every Elizabethville local was a pawn in her target’s game, and she had a hunch on who it was.

Setting the empty glass on the table, she generously takes her time on leaving the bar. As she stands, the sole essence of calm amongst the crowd of terror, Sam looks her way; eyes steeled with irritation, hell, confusion maybe. As he blinks, eyes bouncing to the bar owner and back to Zarathos, the skeleton rider was gone in the wind with a quick salute.

—

Idiots. Suicidal fucking idiots. They look sexy as hell but are just himbos who need babysat. Zarathos rides through the neighborhood, using hellfire she tracks Dean and the bartender. She pulls into the driveway, ignoring the concerned Sam checking on Bobby. The younger Winchester watches her with wide eyes.

“You…” he whispers, watching as her once dark flesh breaks away under the flames.

Reaching the crashed in living room, she takes a deep inhale, allowing a tornado of scents to overcome her. She twitches, catching Ruby’s, however, she forces herself to focus on Dean.

Following the small bits of debris and mutters, she enters the basement where the bartender and pastor stand across from the green-eyed idiot. The pastor’s hand grasps onto Dean’s throat, eyes glaring into his as the woman whispers her pleas.

Whipping the flaming chain around the pastor’s neck, he freezes in pain with wide eyes. His flesh hardens, cracks decorating his figure as bursts of orange light gleam through. The woman watches in distress before suffering the same fate. Now dropped and gasping for a breath, Dean watches as the flaming figure saves his ass for the second time in a row.

As she stands over him, his green eyes stare into her empty ones. “Who, ugh,” he grunts, “who the hell are you?”

Rather than answering, she tilts her head to the side, the flames mimic her movement. “Your… savior… idiot,” she finally replies.

Before he can retort, he looks over at the sound of rushed footsteps coming their way. Seeing his little brother charge in, a familiar gun raised, the man’s once surprised expression drops.

Pathetically raising a hand, he shouts, “Sam, no!”

Seconds too late, the younger man fires a round into The Ryder’s skeletal chest. The creature stumbles back, her flames flickering as the power of the Colt filters through her system until the bullet is pushed out, clacking against the stone floor. Reverting to her human appearance, her now sweat drenched form glares at the man.

Dean scrambles to his feet at the sight of her. As she takes a step for his brother, he steps in her path, hands gently pushing against her broad chest.

“Wait, please, no.” He pants, “not him.” He then turns to Sam, “just stop. Don’t shoot.” He looks back at her, “I just… we, just, need to talk.”

—

Reaching the town, Dean and Zarathos stand outside of the main plaza against her bike. “You know,” he coughs, “outside of the whole burning skeleton thing, you are a sight for sore eyes. Mind tellin’ me how you do that? What the hell are you?”

“I don’t know how I do it. For as long as I could remember, I always had a human form,” she answers. “The demons call me The Ryder, Hell’s Bloodhound. Outside of that, I don’t know what I am. I’m not a demon that’s for damn sure.”

His face scrunches, “and how’re you so sure? Ya better than them or some?”

She chuckles, “better than them? Kid, you hurt my feelings. They’re nowhere on my level. Besides, demons aren’t just made of thin air. They were humans at first. Humans who took dark paths and succumbed to the darkness.”

“And you were never human before?”

She shakes her head, “not from what I can remember. That’s why when demons wish to stand topside, they find vessels to keep a low cover and add a little flare to some crossroad deals.”

He sits in silence, watching over the crowd of locals that walk by. “Why save me, twice?” His jaw notches, “is it because of my deal? I still have a year left.”

She hums, “nah. I don’t have anything to do with that. I merely saved your ass because you got in the way.”

“Excuse me?” He glances at her.

“You heard me. I’m a hunter, Winchester. My job is to round up sinners on a regular and yet after that stint in Wyoming, I’ve had to herd the cattle back to Hell and you’re in my way.”

He shrugs, “sorry, not sorry. Hey, you think this town will ever change?”

She scoffs, “hell no. if there’s one thing detrimental about humans it’s that you lot are impressionable. Once you’ve scratched the itch in the back of your head, you’re gone. This town? They’re in far too deep, especially since another human is leading them further to the doors of Hell.”

“If you’re done giving me the third degree, I have a job to get to,” she straddles the leather seat of her motorcycle. “Do you think Sam, my brother, is okay?”

She scoffs, “he’s a hunter who was poisoned by Azazel, he’s never okay.”

Dean kisses his teeth, “not that. When I made the deal and he was brought to life, Azazel mentioned that he might’ve changed. Do you think my brother will be okay?” As he stares down into her amber gaze, searching for any lies.

“I mean, he died. Death appears differently for everyone, even treats them differently. What came back with your brother was probably nothing or it might just be a darker, unhinged part of his consciousness. I don’t know, but as long you keep protecting him, he’ll be fine.”

He nods, looking off towards the hotel. “And what do you know of a demon named Ruby?”

Involuntarily, a growl echoes in her chest. “A smelling bitch who prefers word vomiting than walkin’ the walk. She’s one of the demons on ‘Return at Once’ list, damn near nobody in Hell likes her. If you see her, send her ass back down under.”

Zarathos starts her engine, the roar fluttering through his chest. Dean watches her for a bit, “say, if we ever need, ya know, help or anythin’, how do we call you?”

Sliding a pair of sunglasses over her eyes, she smirks, “you don’t. I come whenever I want to, kid. Remember, stay out of the way.” She rides off, following the road out of town.

Watching her ride into the sun, Bobby walks up behind him with squinting eyes. “So what was that all about?”

Dean shrugs, “I guess I, uh, have a guardian angel?” The older man side eyes him, “repeat that for me. A what?”

He repeats, “a guardian angel. A devilish one, at that. She’s a hunter, for Hell. Lassos all the escaped demons and sinners and sends them to the underworld.”

“Hell’s own police force, huh?” Bobby’s eyebrows raise. “Well, I’ll be damned. You think she’ll be another demon problem?”

Dean shakes his head, “not her. She’s not a demon, but that doesn’t mean we’re in the clear, yet.” The man nods, “good to know you’re thinking.”

“I know you’re not,” he fires back. Bobby looks at him, “what? What the hell are you yappin’ about now?”

He nods his head over at the hotel. “Ruby helped you with the Colt. You came here with her, if anyone’s not thinking’, it’s you and Sam.”

“Ruby is helping us,” Bobby argues. “She’s helping us save you. Hell, she helped us with this goddamn Colt, you idjit.”

Dean’s jaw ticks, “and why do you think that is? The bitch is a demon, and her ass needs saving. She’s on The Ryder’s hitlist and boy, is she excited to send her ass back to where she came from.”

“You really believe that thing?” Dean shrugs, “not like Ruby saved our asses without laying out her terms. When it came to Ryder, all she wanted was for us to stay out the way. So, you tell me who to believe and who to kill.”

Taglist: @noodle81937 @mary-jinx

[ohtobeleah]

Whenever I see that gif set of Slider and Hangman, it makes me think that Slider could be his dad more than Iceman is his dad. Cause they both have the whole cocky attitude and we can't forget showing off at the beach 🤤

What if, and like really picture it. What if Slider had a kid he never knew about? With Jakes mum who ended up marrying Mr. Seresin and she got Jakes last name legally changed from her maiden name to Seresin.

But he goes his whole life not knowing his dad isn’t his biology dad. And then it all comes out when his parents go through a nasty divorce and Mr. Seresin spills the beans.

“I’m not even your real father Jacob—you’re mother was rooting some aviator.” And then it clicks for the old drunk who’s never truly been proud of Jake for a single thing in his life. “Guess the apple really didn’t fall far from the tree after all.”

“Mum?” Jake has to know. He needs to because he swears his blood hurts he’s in so much disbelief.

It’s only when he gets back to North Island after the not so great family reunion that Jake finds out the names of the new TopGun recruits and sees a last name that feels like he’s got a hot knife in his chest the second he reads it.

“Kerner.”

You’re the half-sister he never even knew existed.

“C’mon Bradshaw don’t be a fuckin wank.” Jake can hear the dramatics coming his way in the hall before he sees the two of you. You’re only a year or two younger than Jake, and with how Rooster went on about Slider, he gathered the two of you would have to be pretty close. “Take me out for dinner, it’s my first weekend here and I’ve got literally nothing else to do.”

“My god.” Bradley secretly loved it. “Fine—if you’ll get off my dick I’ll take you to dinner.”

“Perfect, pick me up at seven?”

“Wear that dress that makes your tits looks real good.” Jake wants to just die. You’re his fucking sister and Bradshaws seen your boobs. “Hey Hangman!” He had turned on his heals to make an attempt to leave before Rooster could catch him but here he was, being called back. “This is Y/n, Sliders kid—the one I told you about.”

Jake doesn’t speak. He doesn’t shake your hand and he doesn’t look your way. He simply presses his lips together in a fine line and ducks past you.

“What the hells that guys problem?” You ask all the while you watch Jake make a sharp right down the hall. Jake runs to the nearest bathroom he can find and drops to his knees at the toilet to throw his lunch up. He can’t believe you’re here, his half-sister, is here and no one knows. No one knows about his parents divorce, no one knows Jake isn’t biologically a Seresin.

But most importantly—you have not a fucking clue that you have an older brother…..Who hates that you got the dad he was robbed of.

[saintrocklee]

mdni 18+ content

don’t mind me, just thinking about kisame as your older brother’s best friend who is accidentally your first kiss. you didn’t mean for him to be but it was a party, bottles were being spun, and your brother boo’d the whole time. you both laughed about it and that was that.

kisame as your older brother’s best friend who accidentally receives a text that was not meant for him. you immediately tell him “wrong number oh my god” and apologize for telling him that your bed is broken and asking if you can try his. kisame finds himself laughing at your ridiculous pick up line and tells you that there’s no way you’ll pull with that to which you respond with “tell that to my date Friday night” and suddenly kisame isn’t laughing anymore. very randomly the next day your brother tells you you’re not allowed to date until you’re married while kisame cackles from the kitchen and you call kisame a tattle tale rat and all is right in the world.

kisame as your older brother’s best friend who accidentally walks in on you changing. and, okay, you weren’t naked. just indecent. kisame’s seen you in a bathing suit and hardly batted an eye but catching you lifting your sweatshirt half way up and seeing your uncovered back and the underside of your breasts has him choking on his saliva. you let out a petrified noise and slam your door shut over the sounds of him coughing and apologizing. no one else is home, he’d let himself in to grab a charger he’d left behind, and is about halfway down the stairs when a pillow hits him on the back of his head. you’re calling him names and swearing and chasing him around with another pillow, and he’s dodging you and telling you he didn’t see anything until you’re both laughing and out of breath. things go back to normal. kind of. only now kisame knows what certain parts of you look like. but you don’t bring it back up and neither does he.

kisame as your older brother’s best friend who accidentally kisses you, again. only this time it really was an accident, he’d hadn’t seen you in a couple weeks and the family gathering he invited himself to had drinks and games and he’s letting loose, relaxing in a way he can’t in his own home. you’re not even supposed to be there, sometime about a girls trip he tries not to think about, but you show up anyway with a big smile and a hard jab to his side with your elbow. he catches you in a side hug and goes to plant a very brotherly kiss to the top of your head, because he’s kisame and he’s like a brother to you, images of the under side of your breasts be damned, only to miss completely and clumsily catch the side of your mouth. you’d titled your head up towards him at the wrong or maybe right moment and he pulls away blinking. you’re staring at him in shock before laughing and asking him how much he’s had to drink. he doesn’t answer and removes himself, not before ruffling your hair to re-establish the friendly line drawn between you. he tries and fails to not think about it for the rest of the night and things are … weird.

kisame as your older brother’s best friend who accidentally sees you on a date. he’s picking up takeout and stares unabashedly at you and some guy who’d look great with a broken jaw. before he can really process what he’s seeing and the burning twist in his gut he’s texting your brother who responds with a “yeah i know it’s some prick she knew in school” and kisame leaves, agitated and no longer hungry. he sees you a couple days later and asks about it before he can think better of it and you roll your eyes and tell him it was a one time thing, you were giving the guy a chance, but the whole thing was a bust. kisame ignores the elation he feels in his chest and the weight that slides off his shoulders and happily accepts part of the apple you’re cutting up. things are normal but not and kisame is too preoccupied with the way you delicately bite into the fruit to notice.

kisame as your older brother’s best friend who accidentally tells some he’s your boyfriend. only he didn’t say it, the old lady implied it and kisame just didn’t think to answer. you had just signed a lease on a tiny studio apartment and he was helping you move boxes from the street while your brother and mom returned the moving truck. he’d been bringing up the last box when the tiniest old lady he’s ever seen gives him a crinkled smile and tells him what a good boyfriend he was and about how lucky you were to have a gentleman like him around. all he can do is nod and pointedly ignore how warm the assumption makes him feel as he continues up the stairs. he opens his mouth to tell you what happened, no doubt you’ll make a joke about it and hopefully rid him of the buzzing in his ears, only you’ve replaced the shirt you were wearing with a tank top while you unpacked dishes. there’s a curious bead of sweat trailing down the middle of your back, a back kisame has memorized since he stumbled upon you in your bedroom, and he can’t find it in himself to mention it. it’s then he realizes that things are not normal anymore, not by a long shot.

kisame as your older brother’s best friend who accidentally thinks about you while he’s … taking care of himself. he’d waken up uncomfortable and hard and didn’t have to be at work until later so he takes it slow. let’s his mind wander only to hiss when he thinks of you, peeling off that sweater completely. he thinks of what that bead of sweat would taste like and how far it fell down your back. he thinks about your mouth around the apple slice, about your mouth against his. twice he’s been there, twice he’s felt it, and it’s enough to make him finish with a groan, only to sink into his sheets as the guilt takes over. he slings an arm over his face and sighs, accepting this as his new reality.

kisame as your older brother’s best friend who purposefully begins to put himself between you and anyone he thinks shouldn’t be next to you. you don’t notice because it’s kisame and he’s always been there and life goes on.

kisame as your older brother’s best friend who purposefully switches up nicknames just to watch the surprise flit across your face. girlie turns to darlin’ and he grins around the toothpick in his mouth when you fumble the red solo cup in your hands, beer spilling into the sink while you both clean up after another family party.

kisame as your older brother’s best friend who purposefully presses his leg against yours under the table. kisame as your older brother’s best friend who purposefully adds a layer of suggestion to your usual banter that has you blinking as if to make sure you heard him correctly. kisame as your older brother’s best friend who purposefully slings an arm around the back of your chair, to make himself comfortable he’s a big guy, and flashes anyone who looks at you a grin with way too many teeth.

kisame as your older brother’s best friend who purposefully is trying to make you see him as someone other than just your older brother’s best friend. kisame as your older brother’s best friend who purposefully becomes the only guy in your life outside of your family. kisame as your older brother’s best friend who purposefully toys with you just outside of your brother’s gaze until you snap and you’re both kissing in the kitchen. he’s got you trapped against the pantry door, the same one his height’s recorded on right next to yours in faded marker, and his mouth is hot against your lips, your jaw, your neck.

kisame as your older brother’s best friend who purposefully gets you alone when he can. he’s grinding into you from behind in the guest bathroom at thanksgiving, muttering filth into your ear as he toys with your sweater, ignoring your hushed whisper that you two probably shouldn’t be doing this, and holding back a groan at the whimpers you let out. he’s got you crowded against the wall of your family’s garage, hand shoved up your ugly Christmas sweater to ply with those breasts he can’t stop dreaming about and trailing fire down your neck. you’ve got a leg hooked over his waist, rubbing your sweet cunt over his covered cock, still telling him that this has to stop. he chuckles against your jaw and tells you that he’s waited way too long to stop now. and you’re shoving him off only to turn around and undo your belt, your tight jeans pooling at your ankles. kisame snarls into your hair when he sees you weren’t wearing anything underneath and slips his cock from his pants, leaking and throbbing and so sensitive he thinks he might cum before even getting all the way inside you. you arch your back and muffle your whimpers with the back of your hand, eyes closing as kisame teases your entrance. he’s about to press into you, willing himself to get it together, only to fly off of you when he hears your brother just outside the garage door. you both recover just as he enters, throwing you a snarky remark and grabbing a couple beers from the fridge. you and kisame exchange a look as you follow him out, plans to continue as soon as possible written clearly on both your faces 💙