#let's see if i can find some fucking ibuprofen in this house

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wisdom tooth pain ranting in the tags don't mind me

[megantheebaddest]

Request idea🫣 jack and the reader have been going out for almost a year he’s over at her house went to get something out of her bed side table and he finds Al of her toys 🫣🫣 and he’s shocked that it took him this long to see the bed side table reader comes in thinking jack may be mad but he’s far from mad

Show Me

a/n: thank you for this request even though this was over a whole year ago 💀

warnings: mentions of sex toys

“What’s wrong baby? You asked him.

“Ugggh my head is fucking killing me..” He rubbed at his temples. “Do you have any Ibuprofen?”

“Yeah I have some in my room.. I’ll go get it” you started to stand up but he stopped you.

“It’s okay baby I can grab it, I gotta pee anyways. Where at in your room?” He asked.

“In my end stand.. the one on the RIGHT” You couldn’t stress this enough.

“Okay thank you mamas” He got up to go get the medicine.

“Uh huh.. the end stand on the RIGHT side of my bed okay?”

“mhm”

Your body filled with panic at the thought of Jack going into your other end stand. It was filled with all kind of questionable things. Dildos, vibrators, cuffs, flavored lube, all of the things you were not ready to introduce him to. It felt like he had been gone for too long so you figured you’d go make sure he was checking the right spot.

You turned the corner to your bedroom and wouldn’t you know he was in fact looking in the wrong place.

“Oh no…” You said just loud enough for him to hear you.

Jack turned to look at you, he had the widest grin on his face. “Yeah um.. there’s no Ibuprofen in here” he says pointing at the drawer full of toys.

You had your eyebrows scrunched with a worried expression, you just silently pointed to the other end stand. He closed the drawer and walked around your bed, he grabbed your face and ran his thumb across your cheek and continued walking to the other side of the bed. He grabbed two little pills and headed to the bathroom that connected to your room.

You felt sick to your stomach. You sat on the edge of the bed with your head hanging low. You felt that he would think of you differently now. You were so lost in your own head you didn’t hear him come out.

“Hey, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He sat down rubbing circles on your back.

“I don’t know. I guess i’m just a little embarrassed”

“Hey no, please don’t feel that way? There’s no need for that babe.”

“I mean.. I couldn’t have been more clear on which end stand you were supposed to look in.” You let out a half laugh shaking your head.

“That is totally my fault. I’m sorry but…”

“What?”

“Do you really use all that stuff?”

Your eyes widened and your heart sank. You didn’t want him to be mad at you. You cleared your throat. “I-Um rarely.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Yes.” You quietly admit dropping your head. He grabbed your chin and tilted your head up so you were looking at him.

With hooded eyes and a tight grin he admitted “That’s fucking hot”

He leaned in for a passionate kiss. He pulled back asking “what’s your favorite thing in there?”

You were shocked that he’d ask that. “Um..” you already knew the answer but you were nervous.

“Go get it” He looked past you at the drawer. You hesitantly stood up making your way to the drawer. You smoothed your hands on your thighs, something you did when you were nervous. You opened the drawer and dug around a few times. You pulled out your little pink rose toy. You sat back down showing him it.

He grabbed it to examine the little thing. “And what does this little cute thing do?”

“It um.. it’s for my clit. It creates a suction like feeling, almost like oral. But it vibrates too.”

Is tongue was poking the inside of his cheek, and his eyebrow were up still inspecting the toy. “huh” he said quickly shaking his head like he understood.

he handed it back to you. “Show me”

[brokenjere]

strangers again (c.f)

synopsis: REQUEST - Can i request something too?

For Conrad x reader

Enemies to lovers/Friends to lovers

But reader is sick and Conrad taking care of her

Jeremiah’s name lights up on her phone next to her head, making her eyes hurt even behind her eyelids. She answers it with a groan and Jeremiah’s laugh cuts clear through it. “Whoa, you sound horrific,” he says. “Where are you?” She pulls her phone away from her head to check the time. She’s late. She’s been dozing in and out of sleep all day, trying to clear the headache that’s been forming in her brain. It was getting so bad, she started to feel nauseous and had to turn off all the lights. She didn’t even think to call Jeremiah and tell her she wasn’t going to be at the party. 

“I’m sorry, J. I have a migraine. I’m feeling really sick, I’m not gonna make it,” she tells him. He sighs on the other side of the phone. It didn’t say I’m annoyed at you, it said that really sucks. 

“Do you need me to come tend to you, little baby?” He asks as a joke but she can’t laugh. Jeremiah is a good friend to Yn. He always has been. She tells him no. “You sure? I can bring some Midol, and get you some ice-cold water. Lay with you while the lights are all off and pluck my eyelashes out from boredom?” 

“I’m okay, Jere.” 

“I’ll send Conrad, okay? He’s not coming.” 

She quickly tells him no. She says it so many times Jeremiah laughs. “I’m serious. No.” The last thing that would fix her headache was Conrad Fisher but Jeremiah insisted so firmly, she conceded. She doesn’t have the energy to argue. “He can’t stay,” she says. 

“Okay. I’ll send him over and I’ll see you tomorrow if you feel better?” 

“Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow.” They hang up the phone and she closes her eyes again. She sees Conrad’s face with a red aurora around it. They used to be friends, her and Conrad, but now she would do anything to stay as far away from him as possible which sometimes proved difficult considering he was her best friend's brother but she still tried. She’d dodge him at the house whenever he entered the room, claiming a full bladder or that she needed to go home. Jeremiah let her pretend and never says anything to her. He still tried though like he knew something she didn’t. 

She hears the front door open and shut and a voice calling out for her. Despite it being distorted and uiet, she knows it’s Conrad. She doesn’t speak because it hurts and lets him find his way to her bedroom. He flicks on the light and she throws the covers over her head in defense. “What the fuck is your problem?” She curses under the covers. 

“What are you cussing at me for?” Conrad asks. She hears a plastic bag rustling and it makes her temples ache. 

“Didn’t Jeremiah tell you I have a migraine? Why would you turn the lights on like that? And would you please stop fucking moving that bag around?!” She flips the blanket off of her head. Her eyes sQuint at the bright light above her head and she tries to focus them on what’s going on around her. He’s standing by her bedroom door with a grocery bag in his hand filled with God knows what. He’s smiling like he enjoys seeing her this way and she grimaces at him. 

“Sorry, didn’t know I was walking into a hornet’s nest,” he quips. She narrows her eyes, no longer having to uint and he walks toward her. “Are you going to be nice and let me take care of you or is this a drop-and-go operation?” 

“I’d prefer if you dropped and left,” she tells him. He pouts and she thinks it’s fake but when he sets the bag down on the bed and doesn’t open it, she wonders if he really does want to stay. And that pisses her off. “What do you have to prove?” She asks. 

“What do you mean by that?” He furrows his eyebrows but doesn’t look at her. He pulls out a bottle of ibuprofen and cold water bottles and set them on the bed. Yn could feel the cold through her blanket. 

“You don’t need to sit here and take care of me, you know? I can do it myself.” 

“Lord knows that’s true,” he mumbles under his breath. He pulls out an almond Hershey bar. Her favorite chocolate. She tries not to think about it. 

“What does that mean?” 

“You’re allowed to make snippy, inconspicuous comments but I’m not?” He finally looks at her, throwing down a rag he took from her kitchen. It hits her leg and she glances between that and his face. It’s twisted in frustration. “I don’t have to mean anything by what I’m saying.” 

“But you do mean something by it. You always mean something.” 

Conrad scoffs and crumbles up the bag making her wince. She curls back up in her bed and kicks the stuff he put on the bed to the floor. He laughs but it’s not a happy laugh. He’s mad and she feels good that she made him feel that way. “You really are a piece of work, aren’t you?” She doesn’t want to but she peeks over her shoulder to see him bending down and collecting the stuff off the floor. She looks away before he can catch her. “I can’t believe Jeremiah still puts up with this shit.” 

“He doesn’t put up with anything,” she mumbles. She closes her eyes and squeezes them shut so tightly to block out the lights he still hasn’t turned off. “He wants to be my friend. Just because you don’t doesn’t mean that other people agree with you.” 

She can feel a fight coming on. One that she’s been trying to avoid for months and that, right now, she does not have the energy to participate in. Conrad opens the ibuprofen and shakes a few out into his hand. “Can you take some of these?” He asks her quietly. When she opens her eyes, his palm is outspread in front of her face with three white pills inside. “I have water.” 

“I don’t want that right now.” 

“Don’t be stubborn.” She groans and sits up against her pillows, snatching the pills

out of his palm. He twists open the cap of the water and hands it to her once she pops the medicine onto her tongue. He watches her intently as she washes them down. “Good job.” She rolls her eyes at him and sinks back down into the bed. “Who said I didn’t want to be your friend?” His voice is softer now with a level of concern she hasn’t heard from him in a while. 

“You did, remember? When you told me not to talk to you anymore?” He doesn’t pretend to not remember. He just nods his head and sits on the corner of her bed as far away from her as possible. She was sure if he touched her she’d recoil away from him so she’s grateful he doesn’t make her do that. 

“You know why I said that,” he whispers. He looks down at his lap and picks at the loose fabric on his sweatpants. She didn’t notice them before now. They’re ratty and old and she doesn’t remember ever seeing them before but it makes her wonder if he ran out of the house before getting ready. 

“I don’t,” she says. “And can you please shut off the fucking light?” Conrad laughs a little bit. It’s a laugh that comes from deep inside his gut. It’s the kind of laugh Yn used to crave to hear and now it makes her stomach hurt. 

When the light is off, instead of sitting back down on the bed, Conrad grabs the rag and bottle of water. He gets it wet and asks her if it’s okay if he puts it on her forehead. “The cold might make you feel better,” he suggests. She nods her head and then says yes aloud when she realizes he couldn’t see her. He sits closer to her now, his hip pushing against her side. She doesn’t recoil away from him but she notices it more than she should. 

They don’t speak to each other as he presses the rag to her head but she can hear him breathing. She can feel his hand shaking. Her lips get dry and as the water drips down the side of her face, she feels like crying and she’s not really sure why. She wishes Jeremiah was here instead. She wouldn’t be so worried about his hip against her body. She wouldn’t be thinking about his hand shaking and wondering why it was shaking. Jeremiah’s hand wouldn’t be shaking at all. He was sure. He was so sure all the time it was why he was her rock. Conrad was never sure. That was why she couldn’t be around him. He made her feel uneasy. 

When the rag gets too warm to be helpful, he puts it on her side table and dries the water off her forehead with his shirt sleeve. “How are you feeling?” He asks. 

“Fine, I guess. Thanks.” 

“Can I tell you something?” 

“If you have to,” she says. She doesn’t mean to be rude but the talking made her head worse and if she didn’t have to, she didn’t want to. “Sorry,” she mumbles. 

“I asked Jeremiah if I could come over,” he admits. She wishes she could see him but she knows that the fact they were in the dark and couldn’t see each other was the reason he just told her that. It was the reason they weren’t at each other’s throats right now. It didn’t feel real. “I wanted to take care of you.” 

“Why?” Her voice cracks and her heart starts to race. She swears he can feel it in his legs from all the way in her stomach. Her nerves ran that deep. 

“You know why…” He trails off. 

“You keep saying that I know but I don’t. I don’t know anything. You, Conrad Fisher,

have always been an enigma to me.” Their entire relationship had been on the Conrad timeline. They spoke when he wanted to, hung out when he wanted to, and didn’t speak when he got in his moods. He was hot and cold and she just wanted to be there until it became too much. She know nothing when it comes to him. 

The sensation of his hip pressing into her side changed to his thigh. The heat from his body went from the side of her to on top of her and when he speaks, his voice is closer than it was before. “I want to take care of you because I love you. I can’t talk to you because I love you and I can’t love you. You know I can’t love you.” 

Her head is pounding but her heart is pounding harder and instead of worrying about the pain in her temple, she grabs his face and kisses him. He kisses her back like he’s been waiting for this moment his entire life. He leans into her, pressing his hands into the pillows on the side of her head as he deepens the kiss. He kisses her so hard, she forgets she’s in pain. 

When he pulls away, her lips tingle and she presses her fingers to them. They’re wet and hot and she feels herself smile. “Are you okay?” He whispers to her. He puts his forehead against hers and she imagines him sucking the migraine out of her head. She nods. “Do you still hate me?” 

She doesn’t answer right away. She puts her fingers to his face and feels for his lips. They’re stretched out in a smile and he kisses the tips of her fingers. She can feel his cheeks are hot and she trails her nail down to his jawline gently. She wants to remember how he feels in case she can never touch him again. “I never hated you, Conrad.”

[littlequackerman]

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu x Reader- Sick Day (fluff)

So this was originally posted on my old account, greenteaandchildrenscreams, but i deleted that account and i wanted to rewrite this now that ive improved my dialogue a bit so here you go. enjoy <3

(warning: swearing)

You groaned as you got out of bed, your headache pounding with every step you took towards your kitchen. You got out your thermometer, stuck the metal tip under your tongue and waited for its results.

"101.4... damn, that sucks... where's the ibuprofen" you thought. You went into your bathroom and took the painkillers with some benadryl (or whatever meds you take when youre sick) and headed back into your room before covering yourself with as many blankets as you could find and falling asleep.

You were awoken hours later by your phone beeping off the hook. You shielded your eyes from its bright light as you checked your messages (the painkillers had helped your headache but fevers are bitches) and saw a bunch of missed calls and texts from your favorite mafia boss.

short king 💓

hey where are you you havent been in class for 2 days teach is worried

You

Sry i have a fever i feel like shit

i took some meds earlier and took a nap but i still feel crappy

short king 💓

ill be there soon

You

you dont have to i dont want you to get sick read 4:45 pm

You sighed at his lack of response but quickly fell back asleep.

You were woken up again a short time later by Fuyuhiko banging on your bedroom door. You pushed off the blankets that were still on you (you had kicked most of them off in your sleep) and opened the door. The short blonde was holding a large bowl and a tote bag.

"Fuyu how the hell did you get into my house?"

"Peko."

You let out a small laugh, of course she'd be able to get into your apartment. She did work for a yakuza leader, after all.

"I brought some soup and medicine." Fuyuhiko set the bowl, apparently containing soup, down on your nightstand. "I wasn't sure what you're sick with so I brought a bunch."

You smiled. Although he had a brash and intimidating facade you could definitely see his caring side sometimes. This was one of those times.

"Have ya eaten yet?"

"No."

"Dumbass, how the fuck are you gonna get better if you don't eat shit?"

He led you over to your bed. As you sat back down on it he handed you the bowl of soup and a spoon.

"Chicken Noodle. Peko made it."

The soup was delicious, as you had suspected when you heard Peko had made it. You quickly finished off the whole bowl and handed it back to Fuyu.

"Make sure to thank Peko for me. That was delicious." you said as you rearranged the pillows on your bed and laid back down.

"Will-do."

Fuyu got out some painkillers and allergy medicine from his bag. You took a dose of both before once again rolling over in preperation for a nap. You saw Fuyuhiko head towards the door and called out to him.

"Fuyu, wait."

He turned. "What, ya need anything else?"

"Yeah. Can you cuddle with me till I fall asleep?"

He turned bright red, but still walked back towards your bed, kicking off his shoes and getting under the covers with you. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your head in his neck.

"Thank you for everything today. I appreciate it." you breathed into the curve of his neck.

"It's nothin, dumbass."

"I still appreciate it..." you trailed off, but not before murmuring "Love you."

Fuyuhiko was startled by your words but still let out a soft "Love you too." before falling asleep himself.

You two would have plenty of time to figure out your feelings when you woke up.

[mrshyungwon]

Sneaky...

Featuring: fem reader x Yoshinori of Treasure

Genre: smut

Warnings: language (y'all know it), unprotected sex, cock-sucking, fingering, hair-pulling, hate, eating out, idiot parents

A/n: this is honestly one of my best works

-You had met Yoshi a few days before you had gone on a date. At first, he seemed like a spoiled little kid when he picked you up for the date.

"It takes like five minutes for me to put my makeup on," he said. "Why can't it be the same for you?"

You sighed. You were getting pissed off at Yoshi and you hadn't even gone on the date. You grabbed your bag and said, "Ok, let's go."

"Ok, bush head."

Your hands went to your hair and felt it. It felt fine. Yoshi laughed and said, "It was a joke, come on." He opened the car door for you and shut it once you got in. When he was inside, he asked as he started the engine, "So, where are we going?"

You looked at him. "Well, you obviously picked the stupidest and most clichéd date ever. We're going to the movies. And what's worse is that we're going to the drive-in."

Yoshi sighed and put the car in drive. "You told me you like old fashioned things."

"Not that old! Not 50s! More like 80s."

"They would do this in the 80s too, okay?! So just shut the fuck up, sit your little ass down and let me make my dad happy because your dad is his boss."

You looked at him. The traffic lights shone on his equally red hair. He saw you look at him and said, "Yeah, your dad set this up. He was worried that you weren't going to ever have a boyfriend, so he set you up with me, just because I'm around your age and my dad works with him."

You opened your bag and made it look like you were making sure you had what you needed.

Yoshi watched you out of the corner of his eye as he drove. "What, are you on your period or something?"

"No!" You snapped. "I'm just looking through my bag. Can I do that?"

Yoshi shrugged. "Just wondering because I don't want to have to deal with a whiny brat who needs ibuprofen to stop the goddamn cramps. I struggle enough with it with my mom."

"Really? I didn't think your mom was young enough to still have a period."

"She's still young enough to have another baby, so there's an advantage she has over you. I bet you haven't even been fucked."

You were embarrassed as you said, "I haven't."

Yoshi laughed and said, "I can tell why. Who'd want to?"

You started tearing up as he continued driving. He pulled into the drive-in and said to the ticket man, "Two for 'Marley and Me'" as he gave him a hundred dollar bill.

"Over in lot 6. Have a good night."

Yoshi drove to lot 6 and asked, "You want something to eat before the movie starts?"

You nodded as you sat up straight. "Anything will do."

Yoshi shrugged and said, "Ok, I'll be right back."

You wiped your tear stained cheeks with a tissue you found in your purse. At first, you thought that Yoshi was going to make you pay for your half, but he paid for all of it. Then you looked in the mirror of the car and fixed your makeup. Then you looked at the other cars parked near your space. They all had tinted windows, like the couples who were in them were more passionate than you and Yoshi ever would be. Not that you thought anything was going to happen with Yoshi. Before you left the house, you had picked out the best outfit you could wear. That was when you thought that Yoshi was going to be nice. Then when he started acting like a bitch, you instantly wished you had picked out a different outfit.

Now, here you were, waiting for that spoiled brat, wearing denim shorts and a black camisole.

When Yoshi got back, he said as he opened the door, "I got you a Sprite just in case and some popcorn and Swedish fish. Did I do something wrong?"

You shook your head and said, "It's fine."

Yoshi shrugged and said, "You seem troubled, but if you say so..."

"What could you do if I was troubled?"

"Gee, I don't know, help you? I could try and find out what's wrong and try to help you through it, but you say there's nothing wrong, so I don't see why you care. Just watch the movie, for God's sake. I just want to get this night over with."

Throughout the movie, it was fine. You didn't say anything to Yoshi, but you felt him get uncomfortable every time Jenny and John were about to have sex. Especially in the pool scene. Then, during the end, you saw Yoshi wiping his eyes, as if he was crying. Then when he saw you looking, he made it seem like he had something in his eye.

There were a couple times when you and Yoshi touched hands while reaching for the popcorn. You pulled your hand away and said, "God."

When the movie ended, Yoshi started the car and said, "Let's go home. That was lame. I've seen that movie so many times."

"Then why did you want to watch it?" You asked. "There were other movies playing."

"That was the only one I recognized. Now shut up or I'm gonna leave your little ass here."

"Stop saying I have a small ass!" You snapped at him.

"Well, you do. It's gotta be the only attractive part of your body I've seen so far."

"Attractive?"

"Just forget I said anything. Don't tell your dad any bad things happened, because then my dad'll get fired. If he gets fired, I'll know who to go to."

"And what if he does get fired?" You asked.

"Then I'll tell everyone that you have never had sex. That's a pretty big deal around here, so I suggest you keep your mouth shut."

"Why are you so concerned with me having sex? It's a little weird."

Yoshi shrugged. "I'm interested. Not in you, but it the act. It's very..."

"Mind-blowing?"

"Shut up. No. Just...forget it. Just don't say shit to your dad. Tell him it was alright and I was very polite."

"And how will that benefit me?"

"Just fucking do it, ok?! You want to disappoint your dad?"

You shook your head. Once you pulled up to your house, he grabbed your face and said, "Then fucking tell him what I told you. Don't. Say. Shit."

You nodded. "Ok."

You got out of the car and said to Yoshi before shutting the door, "Thanks. I kinda had fun."

You shut the door and Yoshi drove away.

-----

About a week after your date with Yoshi, your dad came home and said that he had to fire Yoshi's father and now his mom had to work. The reason was because he found him stealing from the company safe.

You knew what was coming after that. Pretty soon, Yoshi came to the door and your mom answered it.

"Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N," he said. "I'm here to see y/n."

You darted upstairs into your room before Yoshi saw you. You heard your mom say where you should be. And that was in your room.

It's wasn't too long before you heard Yoshi coming up the stairs. You took a deep breath and pretended to be going through your closet. Then you felt Yoshi grab your hair and pull you away from the closet. He pulled it back and made you look at him. His eyes were black and you had to admit, he was really hot when he was mad.

"Yo..." you started to say, but he covered your mouth and said, "Did you tell?"

You shook your head. You said through his hand, "No."

He didn't believe you obviously, because he let go of your hair and pushed you against the wall. His hands on your shoulders were pressing you against the wall. Then he threw you onto the bed and went to shut the door. Then he said, "You told me you weren't going to say shit about our date."

"I didn't, Yoshi," you said. "I said everything went fine."

"You little lying bitch," Yoshi spat. "My dad got fired today and I told you that you knew who to expect if he did. You heard me."

You shook your head and he pulled you from the bed and pushed you against the wall again. Then he got closer to your face and said under his breath, "Are you still a virgin?"

Your heart started racing as you nodded. Then Yoshi said, "Did you tell on me?" When you shook your head, he started touching your ass. Your eyes widened and he smiled. He pressed his body against yours. "Consider this punishment, my dear."

"Dear?" You asked. Yoshi smiled.

"Yeah, I just realized how cute you are." Then he said as he unbuttoned your shorts, "Don't make any noise, okay? Mommy and Daddy are downstairs."

You nodded and he pulled your shorts down. Once your panties were off, he shoved his fingers inside of your cunt. As they went in and out, you were whimpering softly. He softly asked you, "Do you have handcuffs?"

You breathed in deeply. You nodded in guilt. You said, "In my dresser."

Yoshi threw you back onto the bed and went to your dresser. He pulled out a pair of black fur handcuffs and cuffed you to your head board. "Why do you have these? I thought you were a virgin."

"I am," you said. "I just...I pretend you're in here sometimes."

Yoshi smiled. "Can't get enough of me, can you?"

"Fuck you. No. I just think that you're very..."

"Hot?"

You blushed. "Yeah, you are. So fucking what?"

Yoshi smiled and said, "Then, you'll think I'm hotter after this. You told on me, so I'm gonna punish you." He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down. He pulled his cock out of his boxers and said, "Suck me off."

You looked down at his dick and said, "I don't know, Yoshi. My parents..."

"Fuck them. They think we did it in the car a couple days ago. They don't care if you have sex. They just want you to be happy."

"But, we're not having sex. You're just punishing me."

"Shut the fuck up and just suck me off." He made sure you were level with his cock even though you were handcuffed to the bed. You took his cock in your mouth and he started pumping his cock in and out. He groaned softly as your tongue made contact with the tip of his dick. "Fuck," he said. "You little bitch."

You moaned once he got deeper into your throat. You started puckering your lips against his dick. You're saliva got all over him and your mouth. He pulled his cock out.

Once he put his pants back on, he found the key to the handcuffs and unlocked them. You put your arms down and said to him, "My dad told me why he fired your dad."

Yoshi looked back at you. He pinned you to the bed and leaned in close to your face. "Tell me. Why did the fucker fire my dad?"

You looked down at Yoshi's still hard dick and licked your lips. You could see it even through his jeans. Then you looked back up at him and said, "He caught him stealing from the company safe. He had to fire him."

Yoshi's eyes went back to brown and he sat up. He looked at you and then out your window. "You have got to be fucking me. My dad was stealing from the safe? Oh my fucking God." Then he looked at you and said, "I'm sorry. I just thought..." Then he saw you smirk and look down at your lap. "Oh, you little bitch. You liked that didn't you? You liked my cock? Do you like being punished?"

You shook your head. "No, Yoshi. You made me suck your cock. You are the one who barged into my room and started fucking my mouth. Now, can you go? I have some where to go tomorrow."

"Do you have a car?" Yoshi asked you.

"No, but I was thinking that I could just take an Uber."

Yoshi shook his head. "No, I'm picking you up. I'm not letting some strange bastard pick you up and possibly rape you. What time do you need to leave?"

You hugged your knees and said, "Eight am."

Yoshi smiled and leaned in close to you. "Don't do anything without me."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh fuck up. You know you touch yourself and you know you think about me when you do. I mean, don't do anything without me."

"What, you mean you're gonna fuck me on my twin bed in my room in my parent's house?"

Yoshi shook his head. "I'm not gonna fuck you anywhere like that. Just don't touch yourself without me. You can think about it, just don't touch."

"And what if I do?"

"Then you'll get punished again."

Yoshi got up and left your room. You heard him go downstairs and say to your dad, "See you later, Mr. Y/L/N. I gotta get home."

-----

The next morning, you wore a short skirt and a loose shirt that showed your shoulder and bra strap. You waited until Yoshi pulled up to your driveway. He came at eight one. You walked up to his car and said, "So, why are you doing this again?"

Yoshi was looking up and down at you. "Well," he said. "Seeing how you're dressed, I'm glad I decided to take you. You look like a woman ready to be bred."

You blushed and got in the car. Yoshi looked at your legs and said, "Why are you dressed like that?"

You sighed as he started driving. "It's for a job interview."

"For a strip club?"

"No!" You snapped. "It's just a job."

"Yeah you're going to be doing more than a regular job today with that outfit."

You looked at him. "What do you mean?"

Yoshi shrugged. "Well, you sucked me off last night, so who knows what you'll do today with someone else."

You sighed again. "Fuck. You."

Yoshi smiled. "Do you want to?"

You didn't answer to that. "Just fucking drive to this address." You put the address in on his GPS and sat back.

"When do you have to be there?"

"Nine."

Yoshi stopped and said, "Great." He turned the opposite way and parked under some trees, dangerously close to the park. You looked at him and said, "What the fuck?"

"Shut up. We have forty five minutes." Yoshi unbuckled his seatbelt and unbuckled yours. He said, "Get in the back." When you didn't, he said, "Get in the fucking back!"

You went to the back and so did Yoshi. He pushed you against the seat and pressed his lips against your body. His hands went down to your skirt and he found that you weren't wearing underwear. He looked at you and said, "Less work for me." He took his sweats off and started grinding into you. You moaned and said, "Yoshi, please."

Yoshi didn't seem to care that there were children in the park because he started touching you all over. His fingers went up inside of you. You whimpered and moaned as he started fingering you. He obviously did not give two shits that you had a job interview. He just wanted you. Then he said, "You want me to eat you out?"

You swallowed and started breathing heavily. You nodded in spite of seeing the children on the park grounds. Even though a child or mother or nanny could come over and see you two, you still said, "Yes."

Yoshi went down and started kissing your pussy before taking it in his mouth and sucking on it. His tongue touched your pussy and you whimpered. His warm breath felt so good on you.

You don't know how thirty minutes passed by so quickly, but you looked at the clock while Yoshi was still eating you out. You took his head away from you and said, "I have to go, Yoshi. I don't want to miss my interview."

Yoshi smiled and said, "Ok." He wiped his mouth off and pulled your skirt down to it's appropriate level. Then he got in the driver's seat and started the car again.

-----

About a week later, you got the job and started going to work frequently. Everytime Yoshi called you and asked if you were free anytime, you hung up. Even though you wanted to talk to Yoshi, you didn't want him to know that. You wanted him to think that all you guys were doing was in his will. Not yours. Then, if something bad happens, you'll just blame it on Yoshi.

Then one time, your dad called you at work.

"Dad, this isn't a good time," you said as you stepped outside of the room. "I'm in the middle of a group meeting."

"I was thinking," he said. "If you had such a good time with Yoshi the other day, you could go on another date."

"I thought you fired his dad."

"Yes, but Yoshi is a good young man. I've already spoken with him. He said he'll be glad to see you again."

Was your dad trying to get rid of you? Obviously.

"But you and mom are going on that weekend resort thing..."

"We trust you," your dad said. "You will be fine. Ok, gotta go honey. I'll tell Yoshi when you'll be here."

You hung up. "Fuck!" You went back into the conference room and sat back down.

-----

The next day, you're parents left for the resort. It was for their second honeymoon. Apparently, the first one was pretty shitty.

"We trust you, y/n," your mom said as she loaded her bags into the car. "to not do anything while we're gone. This is your weekend off and you are going to stay at home all day."

"Yeah, because you never let me buy a car," you said.

Your mom ignored that. She got into the car, where your dad was waiting. "Make good choices, y/n!" She shouted as they drove away. You went back into the house and you were about to shut the door when it stopped and you almost broke your arm. Yoshi was there and stepped inside the house.

"So, your idiot parents are gone so that they could get the fucking they did get twenty years ago," he said. "What a great opportunity for us."

You looked at him. "Us? There is no us, Yoshi! We haven't done anything to show that we're together. You still hate me!"

"Oh, like you haven't sucked my dick and I haven't eaten you out ever and we're just so pure right? Fuck that idea. I came here to prove your parents wrong and...my dad kicked me out because I stood up to him about the safe thing."

"Wait, first of all, prove my parents wrong about what and second, you don't have anywhere to go?"

Yoshi nodded. "I mean, I have my uncle, but he's high all the time and is gay, so...I don't think so. Also, to answer your first question..." He grabbed your wrist and led you into your parents room, where no sex had happened ever. He threw you onto the bed and took yours and his own clothes off. Then he got closer to you and said, "How about it, y/n? How about I..." He traced your arm with his finger, "take your virginity away? You know your parents think that they had such a horrible child and they just want you to be liked. Also...I don't hate you."

As you laid under Yoshi, completely naked and vulnerable to him, you admitted that you did want Yoshi to take your virginity away. You wanted him to be your first, no matter how he had treated you. He stared at you, waiting for an answer. You nodded.

Yoshi smiled and started touching your breasts. You moaned and said, "Yoshi...oh God. Help me."

"You're gonna need God's help when I'm done with you," Yoshi said as he continued to touch you. You looked at him up and down and thought that he must be a god. He was so handsome and his body was so perfectly shaped. His waist was thin and his legs were unlike anything you had ever seen. He was perfect to you.

Yoshi's hand went to your cunt and he smiled. "Damn, baby. How are you so wet? All I've been doing is touching you." Then he grabbed your arms and brought you up while he was still sitting on you. You groaned and said, "Yoshi...fuck me."

Yoshi laughed and kissed your neck. "Not yet, baby. I want this bed to know what it was missing for the whole time it's been around. God, your parents are lame. My mom has had more sex with other guys than your parents have, I bet."

"They only did it once and that was it," you said. That was what your mom told you. For some reason, she had decided to tell you about her sex life.

Yoshi looked at you as you faced him. You felt his cock pressing up against you. "Well, here's what we have over them. We'll have more sex than they ever will and they're older than us. How do you like that?"

"You mean, like...?"

Yoshi sighed as he felt your back and kissed your neck. "I don't know. We got off on the wrong foot. Maybe we will, maybe we won't. I just know this: we are going to have sex right now."

He laid you down again and started kissing your neck and chest. You were breathing really hard while his lips made contact with your body.

"It's a shame that your parents will have to sleep on the bed their own daughter was fucked on. If they knew, they'd try to burn the mattress. They won't kill me because, as I told you, they don't care if you get fucked. What really matters to them is their lame bed."

You were basically panting as Yoshi was touching your body. Nothing felt quite like his hands. Not that anyone else had ever touched you like Yoshi was. He was going all over you. His lips against your skin felt like heaven. He was kissing your shoulder when you said, "Yoshi, what's going through your mind right now? Like, what are you thinking?"

Yoshi sighed. "Don't do this. I'm gonna get turned off. I want to do this right now. That's what I'm thinking. Now, please shut the fuck up and let me do this."

You moaned as he continued to touch you. He would not take his eyes off of you. He was so excited to be doing this with you. You felt his cock hardening. You moaned again and said, "Yoshi, please."

Yoshi started touching your pussy with the tips of his fingers. Your skin started tingling as he started breathing on it. He softly kissed your pussy over and over. Then, he sat on you again and said, "Are you ready?"

You looked doubtful, so Yoshi said, "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

You looked up at him once he said that. Then you said, "Nothing. It's just...I always wanted to have a pet name for my first time. Sweetheart isn't much of a pet name."

"What is?"

You blushed. You felt his shoulders as you said, "It's like...if I started calling you Daddy, then that'd be your pet name. Or, like, Papi or boy toy."

Yoshi groaned and you felt his cock on your skin. "Am I just a boy toy?"

You shook your head. "No, Yoshi. You're not. I just...I want us to have a good relationship if we ever have one."

Yoshi smiled. He shifted so that he would be able to go inside of you. You whimpered when you felt him on your cunt. You tried to tell him something, but nothing came out.

Then, Yoshi grabbed your hips and pushed in. You moaned and shrieked once his cock made contact with your walls. It felt like nothing else you had put inside of you before. You got louder as Yoshi started rocking around. You felt the bed move as he thrust himself inside of you.

"Oh fuck, Yoshi!" You screamed. "Oh yes, Yoshi. That's it, right there. Oh, God. Oh... daddy. My daddy..."

Yoshi slowed down when you said that. He knew your were basically high with pleasure, but he said, "Don't call me that yet, okay? I'm not your sugar daddy."

You nodded lightly and said, "Yes, Yoshi." He was right, but you did want him to be your sugar daddy.

Yoshi continued to fuck you until he got tired. Then, when he still inside of you, he said, "Can you ride?"

You shook your head and said, "I don't really want to tonight. Can we wait?"

You looked a little scared when you said that, so he told you after he slid out of you, "Don't worry, sweetheart. We don't have to do it tonight."

"Are you done?"

Yoshi shook his head. "I'm just resting. I don't want to overwhelm you just right now. You're new to this and I can't do anything else yet." He ran his hands along your curves. "I don't want to hurt you." Then he leaned in and touched his lips to yours. "I love you, y/n. All the shit I've said to you was just to make you think that I hated you. I don't hate you, baby."

Hearing him call you baby made you press your lips together. Tears started forming at the corners of your eyes. Yoshi saw them and wiped them away. He softly pressed his lips against yours and said, "Don't cry, baby. I won't leave you."

"How do you know that? Every person who has said that they loved me left me. My parents don't love me. None of my family does. No one loves me."

"Hey," Yoshi said as he had you sit up. He put you on his lap and said, "I love you. I just said it. Don't give a fuck about what other people think. I love you and I would like to keep it that way. I don't want anyone else to love you except for me and...our children, if we have any."

You looked at Yoshi and he held your face. "Do you want to do it again?"

You smiled and nodded as Yoshi kissed you again and you both fell backwards on the bed.

[farfromstrange]

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 5: Designed To Deceive

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader

Summary: Something isn't quite right with you and Michael starts growing suspicious. Meanwhile, you try to convince your boss to give him a job and Sarah to give him a chance. If it weren't for the worry about your sister and the strange customer who seems to look right through you, you would have almost considered the day a success. Almost.

Warnings: Some angst, mentions of death/grief, mentions of child abuse, sex jokes

A/n: Michael is a big teddy bear in the beginning, and then it gets a bit... messy. Everyone say: Fuck Amanda, Jimmy, and Frank!

Michael doesn’t know how to read you. Just last night, you were crying in his arms, but as soon as your alarm goes off, it’s as if nothing ever happened. You put on a smile, brew some coffee for the both of you and get ready for work. 

He’s not sure if it’s a good sign that you seem so positive, but he doubts that your behavior is healthy. You’re hiding, not just from him but from yourself. He knows what that’s like.

He catches you cursing at your phone after glancing at it all morning. And then, when you’re desperately searching for your workplace identification for the cash register on the small desk that you consider your office, and he offers to help you find it, your answer comes fast and almost in a state of panic. “No!” you say. You notice how harsh you sound, so you add a forced smile. “I mean, you don’t have to do that. I can find it on my own.”

You twist the small key that keeps the upper drawer locked and stuff it into your pocket before finding the card you’re searching for under a pile of literary agent listings you printed out a while back.

“Got it!” you declare. 

You sound so cheery, but Michael has a hard time believing that you’re okay, even though you assured him a million times after waking up. You took a pill of Ibuprofen to get rid of the headache, and then you were yourself again. Caring, kind, and overly optimistic. 

“Okay,” you grab your bag, “I’m going to talk to my boss because she’s set to come over and do her usual run-down today. But I don’t see why she shouldn’t hear you out.” 

He walks around the couch, smiling softly. “You know ya don’t have to do all that,” says Michael. “If it’s too much of a bother, I can find somethin’ else. I–”

You shush him with your index finger against his lips. His brown eyes widen slightly, and then he pouts. 

“You’re cute,” you say, smiling back at him. “But I promised I’d do everything in my power to get you that job. Just let me handle it, Mikey, okay?”

“I trust ya, but I’d understand if your attempts don’t work. That’s what I meant.”

“You underestimate my power of persuasion, Mister Kinsella.”

“I would never do tha’. I know yer persuasive.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Then just trust me on this,” you say. 

He nods slowly before pursing his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to your finger. You pull away and offer him your mouth instead, and he eagerly leans in to kiss you. You taste like mint toothpaste and cherry chapstick. Your perfume smells unique; it’s a scent he can’t explain because it’s one hundred percent you. And your skin, as so often, feels like silk under his fingers.  

“Have you ever filled out an application form before?” you ask him then.

“Yeah,” he answers. “One or two. My solicitor made me do it. I have a CV, but there’s nothin’ great on it.”

“Do you have it with you?”

“No, it’s–” Michael sighs. “It’s at my house.” 

He left so suddenly the day before, he didn’t think to take more than just a few clothes. He didn’t even bring toiletries, so he stole your shampoo and your toothpaste; you kept his toothbrush from your first night together, which still warms his heart when he thinks about how carefully you placed it out for him as if he already belongs there. 

You nod. “That’s no problem. If you don’t want to go back there, which I’d understand,” you say, “I can pick it up for you after work.”

“No,” he answers without missing a beat. 

If you go to his house, Birdy will surely see you from across the street, and if Birdy sees you, it won’t take long for Frank to find out. Jimmy and Amanda already know, the latter even saw you kissing, and they don’t approve. He understands, partly because you are so normal, you have no place in the life the Kinsellas are leading, but he’s looking for a proper job now and he knows he can protect you from the threats his family is facing and might as well knock on his door, too. What he doesn’t know is if he can protect you from is his own family. 

“Why?” You frown. 

He doesn’t even know where to start. 

“I’ll do it,” he says. “It’s not your responsibility.”

“Do you not want me in your home?”

“That’s not…” Michael can only shake his head. He wishes it were that easy. But it’s not just his family, it’s the memories the house holds, the bullet holes in the wall above the fireplace he has so often traced with his fingers ever since he first set foot back into it. 

It would be too much. You’d understand, you already do, but you are a very empathetic person and his four walls are dark. They hold darkness, the same one he harbors inside, and he doesn’t want you near that, not on your own, at least. It’s shame, it’s guilt and it’s a desperate need to protect you from his past. 

“I understand,” you say softly, cupping his cheek. “You’re scared that your family will see me, aren’t you?”

You catch on quickly. 

“Yeah,” he says, “among other things.”

“Okay, I won’t go there then. Do you still need me to take you?”

He smiles and shakes his head, kissing your forehead. “I’ll take the bus.”

“Call a taxi. Who knows what psychopath is walking these streets today. Don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Fine, taxi then.” 

“Thank you.”

His breath is hot against your forehead. You wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest. He’s quick to hug you back. His hands travel all over your back; this is not him seeking comfort, this is all you. It’s another piece of evidence that you’re just pretending to be okay. Inside, you must be burning. But he doesn’t know how to help you.

“You worry too much,” he says. “I can take care of myself, ya know?”

“I know,” you answer. “I just can’t help it.”

He rubs your back until time tells you that you have to leave, and you reluctantly pull away from the hug. You glimpse down at your phone again, but something tells him you’re not checking the time. 

“Anyway, you call me if you need me to pick you up or drive you somewhere, yeah?” You look at him with eyes that leave no room for arguing. 

Michael nods, pulling you in for another gentle kiss. “Have fun at work,” he says. “Don’t let anyone drag ya down.”

“I’ll try,” you say, your smile almost reaching your eyes, but it doesn’t elicit the usual glow he could get lost in. You kiss him again as if to deflect from his concern. “Bye. And don’t forget to close the door when you leave!”

“Will do.”

The door falls shut behind you, and his eyes instantly flick to the drawer you locked. You probably think he didn’t see you, but he’s always vigilant, even more so after the day before. Why you locked that drawer, he doesn’t know. The Kinsella in him tells him to check in case there is danger lurking inside, but you’re not like that, you can’t be. You’re keeping something else from him, and you took the key with you to make sure he wouldn’t disturb it. 

He can’t break your trust like that, even though staring at it and not knowing what could be so important to lock it away bugs him to the point he’s ruffling his hair. 

What are you hiding from him?

And suddenly, he’s not the only one with secrets anymore; it’s the both of you. 

•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

The truth is, you’re not okay. The few hours you slept weren’t restful. You dreamt about the darkness inside of you in many shapes, not able to wake up from the nightmare, and it dulled your spirit when you woke up. 

But Michael doesn’t need to know that you’re struggling. You cried your heart out to him and he held you, and you don’t want him to be any more worried than he already is. He has enough on his plate with Anna and his family. You don’t want to be a bother to him. 

The thoughts are harmful and your common sense belittles you for being so stupid and not just talking about what’s bothering you, but it’s not your common sense that is in control over you. It’s a trauma response, your therapist once said, trying to take care of everyone and fix them, put on a mask and pretend you’re okay because that’s what you have been doing from the start to protect your fragile heart. You internalized that behavior and now you can’t put it down. 

It’s been a while since you have been to therapy. You went the first year after moving, but that was it. You changed your attitude and decided to live in your bubble, and it worked for the most part. Until Michael came around. 

You don’t blame him. He’s not the one ruining your life. Meeting him was an unrelated event, but it caused your life to spiral out of control and fall victim to chaos. He’s the butterfly that flapped his wings and caused a series of totally unrelated events to tear you down, and he is not to blame for that. 

If you wanted someone to blame, all you had to do was look no further than the rearview mirror and into your own eyes. 

Maya hasn’t texted or called ever since you talked over the phone. You transferred her the money for the field trip and a little more, hoping it would be enough for her to get away for a few days. The chat between you has been silent since. 

She said that he took her phone, which means every call and every text goes through him. She snuck out to call you the day before, but you know she is smart enough to erase any trace of you. She hasn’t even saved your number under your name. In her phone, you’re called Sierra and you’re one of her high school friends. It made conversation between you so much easier after you moved, but then you fell into the rabbit hole and you drove apart. 

After something traumatic happens and you decide to leave the past behind, there comes a time when you don’t want to be confronted with reality anymore and you decide to shut everyone out. It’s better to avoid the truth than let it ruin your new life. It’s human nature, and you went through the same process. 

There are five stages of grief, and denial was by far the stage at which you stayed the longest, and you still are inevitably stuck there. Of course, you went through all five stages, but then you returned to the first one and you haven’t recovered since. Denial is nice to live in when you make yourself believe that the past can’t haunt you if you simply push it away. But it’s a lie that depression and trauma tell you; these voices are not to be trusted. 

Maya is all you have left, you realize that now. Your anxiety is higher than ever, and you find yourself glancing at your phone even as you’re driving. Car accidents can be deadly. They kill people. One second is all it takes. Humans are breakable, and cars are not built to save someone. If anything, they can turn into deadly weapons. You should know better than to switch your concentration from the road to the phone that is lying on the passenger seat. But this is your sister, and you need her to be safe. 

You fix your makeup before stepping into the café. If you put on a smile, no one will ask you if you’re okay. They will see your smile and move on with their lives. If you’re nice enough, they will leave you alone. You can’t let anyone get to you today or you might not make it ten minutes without crying. 

Your boss greets you. She is in a much better mood than the last time you saw her. She’s in charge of many cafés all over the country, all part of the small ‘Butterfly Effect’ franchise she created for herself. She does regular check-ins with you because she’s from Dublin, but she does drive to different towns in Ireland to check those stores, too. She’s strict, but she’s a woman with a good heart and that’s all that matters to you. 

“Ma’am,” you find the courage to ask her, “Could we talk for a second?”

You reached the café a bit earlier, giving you enough time to have a proper conversation with her before your shift. Sarah is already behind the counter, so you can use the moment of privacy to mention Michael without her catching wind of it before you can tell her personally. She is not going to be thrilled, you can guarantee that. 

Your boss tells you time and time again that you can address her as Ava, but you don’t feel comfortable treating her like a friend when she’s the one responsible for your job. Apparently, in the American coffee shops she used to work at, everyone acted like they were close friends, the lines between customer and service provider blurring. That’s not the kind of atmosphere you are used to from your previous jobs. 

“Of course,” she says and follows you into the backroom. “What can I help you with? I hope it’s not about how I yelled at you the other day. If so, I apologize. I had a rough day.”

“No, no, it’s not about that,” you assure her. “I had a rough day too, believe me. I get it. I actually need to ask you something. Two things. One’s a favor and the other… the other is very important to me.” You fidget with your hands. 

“What, you need some time off?”

“No, I– Okay, this might sound very weird, but I need you to give me more work.”

Ava frowns. “You want to do overtime?”

“If it’s possible, I’d be okay with working a seven-day week without a day off,” you say. 

“You know that means you’re going to overwork yourself, right?”

“I won’t overwork myself.”

“There is a reason you get a day or two off every week. If I make you work any more hours, I’ll risk a lawsuit.”

“But I need the money, ma’am. I really, really do.”

“Money? Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lie. 

You’re not begging for overtime because of yourself. Giving Maya most of the money you saved is one thing, but your bank account is nearly empty and you might not be able to make rent on time if you work at the pace you’re going now. And if your sister ever needs something else, or you end up having to fly her out of the country and to you, you need more money. 

This is not about you, this is about family. 

“Are you sure?” Ava asks. “A seven-day week is not something I can legally make happen for you, and you know that.”

“Then make me work more during the days I’m already on the job,” your breath hitches as the words come out high-pitched. You don’t like to whine, but you need her to listen to you. 

She contemplates, her chest heaving with a sigh. “I can add a few more hours to the schedule,” she caves, “but I’m not going to let you work double shifts.”

“Thank you!” You want to hug her, but that would be inappropriate.

She smiles. “You’re welcome. But if there’s anything you need–”

“There’s one more thing,” you say. 

“And what’s that? Please don’t tell me you want me to strike your vacation time, too.”

“No, it’s not about my holidays. I have a possible candidate that would love to work for us.”

“Oh?” Her eyes light up. Being understaffed is a pain not only for the staff but also for the ones responsible. You have been lacking applicants, and Ava is barely holding up the workload. “Tell me more,” she says. 

“Well, he doesn’t have any experience,” you begin, “but he is willing to learn. He’s calm, compassionate, and patient. And he’s in desperate need of a job.”

“Part-time or full-time?”

“I figure part-time.”

“Why?”

You grind your teeth. “What if I told you he needs it to regain visitation rights for his daughter? But he’s very passionate about taking it seriously,” you quickly add, knowing the initial answer sounded like it was the only reason he wanted to work there. “I can assure you that,” you say. 

Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “Visitation rights? What did he do to lose them?” she asks. 

“He, uh… went to prison for eight years.”

“Pri–” She crosses her arms. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, but that’s why he needs a job. He wants to be better.”

“Eight years is a lot. Why… what did he do?”

“I can’t tell you that. It’s not my place.”

Ava says your name in a rather condescending way. 

You sigh. “He was convicted for playing a huge part in the wrongful death of his wife, but he is a good guy, I–”

“No,” her answer comes short, but it feels like her voice echoes in your ears. 

“But you hired Oliver,” you argue. 

You promised Michael she would give him a chance, and you won’t let her judge him without having ever met him. 

“I have a serious business here and I don’t let just any convict in,” Ava responds. “This is nothing personal, but–”

“No, he deserves a second chance!” You stand your ground. For Michael. For Anna. For all of you. “Please, you haven’t met him.”

She purses her lips. “Are you involved with him?”

“I know him,” you go around the question, “and he is willing to change.”

The silence that follows is deafening. She thinks about your words, the wheels in her head turning rather obviously. You don’t know how long she’s quiet, but it can’t be a good sign. 

She lets out a prolonged exhale, her eyes switching to the watch on her wrist. “Wednesday, eight o’clock,” she says then. “I want to see him and his application in person.”

“Wait,” you stammer. 

“What?”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yeah, I’ll hear him out,” – relief washes over you – “But that doesn’t mean I’ll hire him. That’s a decision I’ll make after I meet with him.”

Your face breaks out into a bright smile, and this time, it is real. There is still good left in some people, and Ava proved it to you again. 

“Thank you so much,” you say, your voice a grateful whisper. “You won’t regret it.”

“I better not,” she says. With another look at her watch, she pushes herself off the counter she was leaning against. “I have to take a look at the books now, and your shift is about to start, so I suggest you do that.”

“Copy that, ma’am.”

“Oh, and–” She turns around halfway through the doorway, “Tell your boyfriend that he needs to really impress me.”

She saw right through you, but in that case, you don’t care. You nod, overjoyed with the feeling of relief and the fact that Michael might get a chance to work someplace that is far away from his family. And knowing your boss, she would even write a letter to the judge to prove to them that the ‘Butterfly Effect’ is a good place to work for someone in need of redemption. But you will get to that once she made her decision. 

You pull out your phone. Still no messages from Maya. If the radio silence keeps persisting, you might as well call her and hang up if one of your parents decides to pick up, but then at least you’ll know her phone isn’t in a ditch somewhere – and you just need to know if she’s doing okay. 

You tear your eyes away from the chat with your sister and switch to another number. 

‘Wednesday, 8 o’clock. My boss will hear u out. We just need to work on ur documents xo’

You send the text to Michael before storing your phone in your backpocket. Perhaps some good might come out of this day. 

Sarah smiles at you when you join her behind the counter. “What did ya and Ava talk about?” she asks. 

You smile, the expression a little strained. “I will tell you later, this is no conversation for here,” you say. 

If she reacts even remotely the way she did after she saw you kissing Michael, you need to be someplace that doesn’t have mugs or sharp weapons she could throw at you. You don’t even want to imagine her reaction, and you’re a little scared, but she deserves to know the truth before anyone else does. 

“You’re my friend, right?”

“Of course,” Sarah says. 

“Okay, good.”

“Why?”

“Just asking,” you say. 

“Okay…” But her eyes hold some suspicion as she turns away to finish drying the dishes. 

The next few hours pass by without mishaps. Your mind often slips to your sister and Michael, and you catch yourself checking your phone more often than usual, but at least with work, nothing goes wrong. You forget the whirlwind of emotions inside of you for a moment, focusing on her friend and whatever wild dating story she can come up with, and you actually find yourself laughing again. 

You turn to face forward when the bell dings. There is no line right now, so he walks right up to you. His hair is graying and he’s wearing glasses. The suit tells you he must have an important job. Your lack of sleep makes it harder to judge the kind of person he is, but you get a shady vibe from him. You’re not sure how you know, but something about him seems not right.

He stands before you for a moment, eyeing you and not the menu. Sarah catches sight of that too, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she refills the toppings that have gone out.

You wait for him to speak, but he’s entirely focused on you. “Welcome to the Butterfly Effect,” you speak up, putting on a smile. “What can I do for you today?”  

He’s really strange, you think. Only after glancing at the menu, he smiles back. “I’ll have a tall Irish Coffee to go and one of those cinnamon biscuits ya’ve got in the display,” he says. 

You nod, typing his order into the register. “Your name, sir?” you ask.

He smirks. “Frank.”

“Okay.” You write his name on the paper cup. “Anything else I can help you with?”

“Actually,” his eyes flick to Sarah who has started brewing the espresso for his drink, “Would you mind makin’ the coffee fer me?” 

Your blood runs cold when he says your name, but then you remember it is written on your name tag and you calm down. 

You look at your friend, then back at the man. He’s not flirting or he would go about this differently. 

“Um, I mean, sure?” 

Sarah shrugs and hands you the cup back. 

“Is that all?” you ask.

He nods. “Thanks, love.”

You don’t like that he calls you that. With Michael, it’s different. Now you’re just creeped out. 

You take his money and turn to quickly finish his Irish Coffee. His eyes are on you the entire time, and you feel slightly violated. You’re used to being watched by customers, but there is something dark in his eyes. He’s like shadows in a dark alleyway that you walk around because you’re scared of what might be hiding in the darkness.

“Irish Coffee for Frank,” you say, trying not to let the uneasiness show. 

He smiles when you hand him the cup. Opening the lid, he takes a good whiff of the liquid inside. He hums.

“I’m sure ya make an excellent Irish Coffee,” he says. “Fer a Brit, I mean.”

“Thanks.” You’re not sure how to respond, you just want him gone.

Don’t let anyone drag ya down, Michael’s voice sounds in your head. 

You straighten your shoulders and smile a little wider. “You live and you learn, right?” you say. 

He nods. “That’s true.”

“Well, if that’s all–“

“Do ya always write notes on yer customers’ cups?” 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

The question catches you by surprise. You blink wildly, trying to find a reason as to why he would ask that. Goosebumps form on your skin. You don’t like the look he has in his eyes, and you can’t even describe it.

“It’s just a question,” he says. 

You swallow. “Sometimes, I do. Why? Is there something wrong, sir?” 

“Oh, no reason. I was just askin’.” He grips his biscuit and his coffee tighter. “Take care of yerself,” he tells you, “Ya never know what might happen out there, right?”  

He heads back out the door before you can find a way to answer him. 

Sarah appears beside you, watching the stranger disappear down the street. “Was that a threat?” she asks.

You flinch a little at the sound of her voice so close to your ear. “I don’t know,” you admit. 

“Sounded like one.”

“That guy was creepy.”

“Yeah, he is. I was about to give that bastard a piece of my mind.”

“That’s not always the answer,” you say. 

But in this case, you wish Sarah would have unleashed her anger before he could have freaked you out further.

His words did sound like a threat, but what bothers you most is the look in his eyes when he eyed you top to bottom, and his knowing smirk when he left.

You’ve never met this guy but he acted as if he knew you, and that’s a feeling that drives the stake of fear deeper into your heart. 

“So anyway,” Sarah leans back against the counter, “Ya wanted to tell me somethin’?”

The café is quiet. Most of the customers have cleared out. You look around, a little on edge still, then turn back to her. “Yeah, there is something you need to know,” you say. You place the towel in your hand down, absentmindedly wiping the non-existent stains off the surface. 

“What?” she asks. 

Taking a deep breath, you gather your thoughts before speaking. "I've been trying to get Michael a job here." The second the words leave your mouth, you brace yourself for her reaction. 

Sarah's jaw drops. “Are you fuckin' kidding me?!”

“No, I’m serious, but hear me out–”

“No, nope, nu-uh.”

“Sarah–”

“Fuckin’ Michael?” She growls your name through gritted teeth. “The wife-murderer who just happens to be your boyfriend now? Which, by the way, I still haven’t fully wrapped my head around. I have been trying to understand, but now ya want this… this criminal to work here? With us? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

You lift your hand, trying to calm her down. You expected as much when you asked Ava to give him a chance. Sarah is your closest friend and she cares with a passion that can often turn into rage. You love her, but you also care about Michael and her rage makes you angry, too. She makes it hard not to lose your mind. 

“Seriously,” she says, “Did someone shit in your brain or somethin’? I don’t get it!”

You take a step back, a mixture of hurt and frustration etched across your face. Her words sting. You never thought it would be easy to convince her, but you hoped she would at least try to understand. You hoped she would think about you giving Michael a chance after finding out about you and that it would be easier for her to accept him now. But she’s not even trying, it seems, no matter how many times she tells you she is. 

"Sarah, I know it's hard to grasp, and I'm not asking you to accept everything all at once," you say. "I know it sounds like he's the worst man alive, but that's not true. He's a human being who made mistakes. I'm trying to get you to see that he's a good guy. He'll show you that if he gets the job, I promise. Michael has paid his dues, and he's trying to make amends for his past. He lost what he loved; he lost his wife and he's trying to get his daughter back now. He's genuinely remorseful. I see him try to be better every day."

“Why do you always have to be so goddamn good-hearted? Do you understand that all this trying to fix him could actually backfire?”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Not do it?”

“Well, I like him!”

“Don’t like him then.”

“I can’t!”

“What, yer gonna tell me next that yer in love with him?”

“I–” You pause. Your eyes flick to the ground. 

“Oh no,” Sarah whispers. “Don’t tell me I hit the nail on its fuckin’ head.”

“You didn’t!” You’re not sure why you paused or why you sound so defensive now. “I… I don’t know what I feel for him.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

The confusion is the worst part about feeling like this, whatever it is. “I’m not lying,” you insist. “It’s not just me being kindhearted. I genuinely like him.” That much, you know. 

She crosses her arms and glares at you. "I don't care if he's sorry or not. People like him don't change overnight, if at all. How can ya trust him? How can you trust your judgment?"

“I just can, okay?” you sound exasperated. “Don’t ask me how, I just know.”

"Yer risking everything for him, aren't ya? Your friendship, your safety, and now even your own emotions. This isn't like you. You've always been cautious and level-headed."

You clench your fist. Her skepticism hits deep, causing a flicker of doubt to cross your mind. But Michael makes you feel alive and understood; he was the first man to see you, and you can’t deny that you need someone like him. You need him. 

You know the connection between you and Michael defies your principles and logic and it isn’t like you, Sarah is right, but people change. You’ve changed. 

“I understand your concerns, Sarah. I do. But love and relationships aren't always simple. Sometimes they defy logic and reasoning,” you explain. “I never planned for any of this to happen, but it did. And I can't just turn off my feelings for him. It's not that easy.”

Sarah's gaze softens, and she takes a step closer to you. “I know ya can't control your emotions,” she says, “but ya can control your actions.”

“You told me I should run at the slightest whiff of danger, and I promise that I will, but there is no danger–” Lie. “It’s just him needing a helping hand, and I really, really like this guy, Sarah. So please, if he ever starts working here, can you at least try to get along instead of wishing death and destruction upon his head? He has been through enough, and once you meet him, you will understand what I’m talking about when I say that he’s actually a good guy.”

You’re persuasive. You have a way with words that leaves many people breathless, and you seem to tickle something in your friend’s mind. 

Sarah's eyes search yours. She takes a deep breath and nods slowly, her initial anger dissipating. "Fine," she says with a hint of reluctance. "I'll try to give him a chance. But only because it's you."

You grasp her hand, sighing a breath of relief. “Thank you,” you say. 

“Just promise me one thing,” she tightens her grip, “Promise me again that if anything feels off, you'll trust your instincts and prioritize your own safety.”

“I promise.”

“Good. I mean it. I care about ya, and I don't want to see ya hurt. Just be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, I will.”

She nods. “My door is always open,” she adds. “Don’t hesitate to come to me. I’m here for you. And if he breaks your heart–” Sarah lets go of your hand and grabs one of the bananas from the display, followed by a knife. 

Your eyes widen when she takes the knife, beheading the banana in an instant. She grins. You don’t find it particularly funny because she just threatened to take away one of his best assets, but her protectiveness warms your heart nonetheless. 

“Can you leave that part of him out of it?” you ask. 

She takes what’s left of the fruit and bites into it. “Why?”

“Well…”

“How good can it be?”

You purse your lips, looking away from her. 

“How good?” she questions again. 

The taste of your leftover caramel Frappuccino explodes on your tongue. You smirk around the straw. 

“Yer blushin’. Why are you blushin’?” 

The air in the cup makes a loud gurgling sound as you suck it out through the straw. 

“Can I get some details?” Sarah continues poking you. 

“Why?” you ask innocently. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Yer lying.”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.”

“The way yer sucking that straw tells me that you are,” she retorts. 

“I haven’t done that yet,” you clarify, but then your smirk grows and you turn around. “He did though.” And with a happy giggle, you skip over to the garbage can and toss your now-empty cup inside. 

“Wait, so Mister I-Went-To-Prison-For-Eight-Years-Fer-Murder gives you head?”

You nod. “Mhm.”

“Good head?”

“Fantastically good head,” you say. “And he loves it.”

Sarah lowers her banana. “Damn!”

“And that banana,” you say, “Doesn’t even come close.”

“What?”

She can hear you laugh to yourself as you move on to the seating area to clean the empty tables. With one last look at the half-eaten banana, she decides the picture in her head is not worth it and she throws it into the trash. 

She calls your name. You turn around. “Ya best believe yer gonna get more questions from me,” she says. 

You wink. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

Amidst the sex jokes, you can’t help but hope that, in practice, Sarah can put her differences aside just as easily as in theory and give Michael a chance. Because he deserves more than one person that believes in him. And if he sees that someone else accepts him and cares enough to give him a second chance, he might not feel so useless anymore. 

But that is all you can do–hope for the best. 

Tagging: @bellaxgiornata @shouldbestudying41 @your-not-invisible-to-me @glowstick-lesbian @ms-murdockswift @acharliecoxedfan @loveroftoomanyfandoms @mattmurdocksscars @roseallisonparker @1988-fiend @norestfortheshelbywicked

[petersbaby]

This is rough, probably the most triggering thing I’ll ever post. It’s very emo, very dramatic, very stupid but I digress. This sucks but I wanted to get it off my mind. It’s probably best to skip this one

TW SEWERSLIDE TW SH TW DRUGS ANGSTY AND SAD, POTENTIALLY UPSETTING CONTENT ‼️

Eddie x su!c!dal reader

-

“Hey, eds, I love you and I’m so sorry.” You weakly said into the phone.

“I love you too but wait-“ the receiver clicks.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.” He scrambles to throw on a jacket and shoes and stumbles out the door. He jumps in his van and prays it doesn’t go dead this time, because it was a life or death situation. Thankfully, it turned over right away and he started to speed to your house.

The front door was unlocked, but nobody in the driveway so you were definitely there alone. He enters, and starts calling out your name growing more and more desperate each time. He checks your room first, no sign of you. He starts to freak out, he looks down the hall where the bathroom door is closed with the lights on. “Oh fuck.” He goes to try the doorknob but it was locked. “Hey, let me in. Please fucking let me in.”

You heard him faintly, but couldn’t really move or speak, so you stayed on the cool bathroom tile floor. Outside the door, he fumbled with his wallet, digging out an old gift card and starting to unlock the door. The knob clicks open and the door swings in on you. He finds you in the corner, balled up and spaced out.

“Hey hey hey, what the fuck did you do?”

You just start crying. You failed and now he was mad at you.

“Pl-please don’t yell at me..” you slurred, with fear and upset in your voice

“Okay no I wasn’t trying to, I need to know what you did. Let me see your arms.” He grabs your wrists, pushing up the sleeves of your sweater. There were some cuts from a few days prior, nothing recent.

“Hello? Can you tell me? Please tell me.” He scans the room, finding 3 empty medicine bottles lying next to the trash can. He grabs them, frantically trying to assess the situation. One was just a higher than average dose of ibuprofen. One was fluoxetine, your antidepressants. The last was something he did not recognize and it wasn’t your name on the bottle.

“What were these? Who’s were these?” He shows the bottle to you.

“I-dunno, found em in the cabinet…”

“Okay, shit. You’re not gonna die but I do need you to throw up.”

“Please let me. It could still work, I wanna leave.” You beg him desperately.

“You can’t fucking leave, okay??” He shouts, and you flinch. “Now come here.” He grabs you from under your arms and tries to maneuver you to the toilet.

“Please try. The quicker the better, try to get it out.” He asks, as he slides the hair tie off your wrist to messily put your hair back.

“You won’t FUCKING TRY.” He’s just so scared. He gets closer and puts two fingers in your mouth harshly, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. He does this a few times before you start to finally show signs of being close to vomiting. Eventually, you start to throw up right as he removes his fingers to get them out of the way. You continue, esophagus burning and tears streaming down your face.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, keep going. I know there’s more.” There was, and once you had nothing left in you, you weakly fell backwards, almost hitting your head on the wall. “Umm, shit, stay here.” He runs to the kitchen to get a glass, filling it up with sink water and then handing it to you.

“Drink it, please, for me.” You still had not stopped crying, so upset that you failed again and that you just ruined your friendship with Eddie forever. Not only that, but you probably scarred him for life. You do your best to drink between sobs. He sits in the floor next to you and pulls your body to him, holding you with his arms around you. He pets your messy hair, getting the sweaty strands off of your forehead.

“I’m so tired.” You murmur against his chest.

“I know.”

He doesn’t know if you mean literally or mentally, but either way, he understands.

-

About an hour later, he helps you to your bed and sits on it with you.

“You’re gonna tell, aren’t you? I’m gonna get sent away.” You say, staring blankly into the distance.

“I know you don’t want to get sent away, trust me, I don’t want you to either. I’m gonna have to talk to your mom, okay, and we’re gonna figure out what’s best to do for you.

“Okay.” You confirm, defeated.

“God, just- just let me appreciate the fact you’re still alive. I’m so glad you didn’t take more than you did. You scared the fuck out of me.”

“I’m sorry. We’re not- I know we’re not friends anymore” you say, having already accepted that. You fucked up really bad and there was no coming back from it.

“What? You don’t want to be friends with me anymore?” His expression is hurt.

“No, you.”

“Me… me what?”

“You,” you slur, pointing at him, “you hate me after this. If you don’t already, you will. I promise you will.”

“No, no, I could never hate you. Never. I’m not mad at you. You’re hurt, you’re just hurting and that’s not your fault.”

You start to cry.

“Do you mean that?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean it.”

“You aren’t gonna leave like everyone else?”

“No, I’m not leaving.”

“I love you,” you say meekly between sniffles.

“I love you too. I’m gonna go see if you have anything to eat, okay? You need to eat, soak up any shit that’s still in your stomach.”

“Okay.”

You drift away to sleep as soon as he steps out the door.

[todouswife]

Guardians of Serendipity- pt2

Yasmine shoots up in her bed; she is immediately met with a throbbing headache making her rub her temples and let out a loud groan. She reaches for her phone on her bedside table but is not greeted with it. Confused, she goes for her purse to look for it but still doesn't find it. Maybe I left it in the kitchen when I got back? She thinks to herself not wanting to believe she lost it last night.

"Fuck my head hurts!" she groans as she looks at the bag on her bedside that one of the guys she met last night got her. She reaches for the bag and looks into it; there is water, Ibuprofen, and snacks in it. She gets the Ibuprofen and water out and takes the medicine for her headache. Yasmine grabs a snack cake and gets out of bed and walks to the kitchen. She is met with the smell of breakfast food and the sight of her roommate.

"Good morning sleeping beauty," Jaleah, her roommate, greets her while she groggily makes her way to sit on the island, " I figured you would need some food after last night."

"Thanks, I appreciate it, Lee," she says looking around the kitchen for her phone. while looking she recalled more of last night. she remembers the intro to the guys that saved her life, she remembers the Uber and them giving her her purse.

"It's gotta be here somewhere, " Yasmine mumbles to herself " Hey, Jaleah, can I use ur phone to call mine? I don't know where it is."

"Yeah, of course!" Jaleah says stepping away from the stove. She unlocks her phone and hands it off and goes back to finish cooking. Yasmine dials her number and puts it on speaker to ensure it's ringing. She listens in the kitchen for the sound of her phone buzzing because her ringer wasn't on. She called her phone a couple more times while walking through the house just in case she missed it somewhere, but on the last call, someone answered.

"Hello?" the voice asked. Yasmine's eyes got wide.

" Oh my god! Hello? Who is this and why do you have my phone?" She frantically asks.

"Oh yeah sorry, it's Roman from last night. When we were making sure it was you're uber we forgot to give you your phone back. Do you want to meet somewhere where we can give it back?" Yasmine sighs in relief hearing the vaguely familiar voice.

"Yes that would be great actually, um I'm actually free all day when can you meet up and where?" He silently thinks for a minute.

"Let's meet at the mug at like ten if that's okay," Roman responds. Yasmine looks at the time and sees that she has some time before she has to be there.

"Okay that's fine I will see you then, thank you by the way for everything."

"Oh of course. I will see you soon" he says before hanging up. Yasmine walks back to the kitchen and gives Jaleah her phone back.

"Did you find it?" Jaleah asks fixing their plates of food.

"Oh god, do I have to tell you something!" Yasmine says starting to scarf down her food. "So last night I went out and got wasted at the club. But it was because I found out Mia and my boyfriend had been sleeping with each other for the past two weeks." 

"Oh, my god are you serious!" Jaleah asks. Jaleah was one of her best friends and they shared a similar interest. Jaleah was tall and skinny with a big purple afro. She has light brown skin her mom is Hispanic and her dad is black. She was always lively and supportive.

"Yes! I'll get into that in a minute. But this man tried to kidnap me while I was messed up, right," Yasmine paused and ate more of her food, "So these three guys scared him off and stayed with me till I was okay. one went and got me water snacks and medicine for my hangover. And they got me an Uber off my phone but forgot to give it to me. So now I have to go meet up with them to get my phone back." she finished

Roman walks into the kitchen to start his day off with some breakfast. While cooking he hears a phone in the living room go off. He didn't think much of it thinking one of his brothers left their phones. It takes him a while to realize that it's the phone of the girl they met last night. Once it dawned on him he walked to the living room and contemplated picking it up unsure if it was the girl calling to look for her phone. Eventually, he gives in after the same number calls more. After their conversation, he sighs. 

"I guess we're getting breakfast there." Roman goes up the stairs to wake the twins up to get ready. 

[sixeyesgojo]

jjk characters handling your period

Summary: “What do you mean, no baby this month either? Okay, suffer then.” - your damn uterus

Pairings: Gojo/Megumi/Nanami/Naoya/Toji x Reader

Content warning: the monthly bloody nightmare your uterus puts you through and the whole shebang that comes with it, language warning, suggestive themes, explicit warning for Toji (you’ll see why)

A/N: purely self-indulgent because I suffer. @megumifushi and @sukirichi , my gals, I gotcha. Also dedicated to all readers who suffer from the same fate (may it be right now or not). Also: Yes, absolutely open the video I linked in Megumi’s part (it’s safe, I promise).

Gojo Satoru

You turn and turn in bed uncomfortably. Something isn’t right, you think and it’s not the fact that Satoru is missing next to you. Not knowing immediately irritates you. All of a sudden you become painfully aware of your lower region. Yes, of course it had to be that time of the month. You just knew you already stained your panties and perhaps the sheets haven’t been spared either. Getting out of bed, then realizing it was already past noon, you sprinted to the bathroom. Fuck, moving fast was not a good idea. 

Having changed the sheets and your stained panties, you made your way to the kitchen. Your stomach growled, signaling you were hungry, but at the same time you feared. Smelling food, let alone tasting too much of it, was a slippery slope – either your nose would protest or your stomach, no in-between. Regardless, you had to eat; or were you supposed to starve to death because of this? Not in this lifetime. “I AM BACK!” an annoyingly loud voice rang through the apartment. You groan and turn around. “Fuck off, Satoru,” you say. Your irritation flaring up for seemingly no reason. “Stop being so motherfucking loud. My head feels like it’s going to split in two and my pussy is fighting the crimson war right now,” you snarled at him.

“Oh honey, seems like I called the right shots then,” he declared proudly and held up a bag filled with... snacks? “I already called in sick for you for the next few days,” Satoru continued to explain as he wrapped his arms around you, “and I’ll be by your side 24/7 for the next two days. We’ll do fun stuff. How does movie night with lots of cuddling for tonight sound?”

“Why are you so nice to me right now?” you mumbled, tears welling up in your eyes. “Simple: I don’t want to be castrated by you,” he whispered back and planted a kiss on your cheek. “Fair enough. What will we do tomorrow?” He stayed silent but pulled out a black card out of his sleeve. You gasped.

Fushiguro Megumi

Ping. A notification. Quickly, you scrambled to get your phone to see what that was about. You desperately needed some distraction right now. The pain was too much. Your boyfriend Megumi had gone somewhere you didn’t know. All you knew was that your boobs were sore, the sensitive nipples rubbing against the fabric were already too much. In addition to that, you also experienced period cramps, resulting in back pain as well. Life was not easy at the moment but at least you could lay in bed for today, doing absolutely nothing.

Unlocking your phone, you saw a new message from Yuji: “omg look at this???” [Video link] It was a video of 42 seconds. There was a cute seal – probably the cutest and fluffiest seal you have ever seen – and background music. It may have only lasted 42 seconds but it definitely triggered some happy feelings inside you; it was so pure and you loved the energy of the clip. Perhaps these feelings were a bit too intense and overwhelming. Tears streamed down your face and you started sobbing uncontrollably. Why were you like this? It wasn’t even a sad video, was it?

You buried your face in the blankets, weeping as if someone just broke up with you. Through your loud crying, you did not notice the door opening. A jangling noise could be heard from your nightstand. Instantly, you shot up to check for intruders but luckily, it was Megumi. A frown spread on his face. “What happened?” he asked as his thumbs wiped your tears from your cheeks. You showed him the video, still sobbing, “Look at the seal... It’s so c-cute. I just... got emotional because it really t-traveled the world. This cutie deserves the whole world...”

“And so do you,” he bluntly stated, “now take the ibuprofen I brought you for the cramps and rest up.” As a matter of fact, he not only brought you painkillers but a hot water bottle and food as well.

Nanami Kento

“No, give me that. Lay down and rest. I can dust off the shelves on my own,” his deep voice commanded. If there was a man that screamed “male wife” it was definitely Nanami Kento, particularly when it came to you being on your period. You weren’t allowed to do anything in the house, except for very light chores. With good reason. “Kento, I can do–” Yeah, no, it wasn’t possible and Kento knew it too well.

You weren’t lucky when it came to period symptoms. Besides excruciating back pain, extremely sore breasts and headaches, you also had the luck to suffer from dizziness every single time you experienced the monthly nuisance. The first time you even passed out. In fact, it had happened several times. And that was precisely how Kento decided to not let you do anything. Still, you felt bad to leave everything to Kento. His work already demanded so much from him and here you were, being babied and even spoon-fed. You didn’t even have to cook your own meals or wash and iron laundry.

You had barely said those words when the unwelcome whirling sensation took you over again. Your feet wobbled, you were in danger of crashing to the ground. In a flash, Kento was by your side to steady you. “I told you not to overdo it.” He cupped your cheek with his warm hand. “Sorry, Kento. I’ll... just rest for a minute.”

Zenin Naoya

Period pain? Laughable. Naoya thought it was pathetic. A woman – these already weak creatures – having period symptoms was a mystery to him. What could possibly hurt about bleeding a little? He couldn’t understand. Your pitiable and sorry state was only another inconvenience to him. Not that you hindered him in any way – you were obedient enough to be quiet and complain as little as possible – but he absolutely despised seeing that annoying expression of pain on your face every time he had to look at it.

Hell, he didn’t even want to engage in sexual activities with you during that time, even though he had randomly picked up somewhere that it might help. Not that he wanted to help you, it was your problem and yours only, not his. “Stop looking at me with those eyes. It’s disgusting,” he remarked condescendingly as he got dressed for wherever he had to go. “When will you be back?” you croaked out but he totally ignored you.

“Women are so damn weak. It’s so fucking pathetic, I almost want to give you a hug,” Naoya gagged. He was about to leave the room but stopped in his tracks. Looking over his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of your face that was contorted with pain. In long strides, he made it to one of the cabinets, fished out a tiny box and threw it on the bed. “Tsk, you better get well soon so you can serve me again, dumb bitch.”

Fushiguro Toji (soft)

Work hadn’t been treating him kindly: not yesterday, not today, not ever. Although he was highly capable and never failed to exceed himself, all Toji truly wanted to do was to go home. When he finally made it through the door, he called out, “Am home.” Usually, you would come running to greet him but when nothing but silence greeted him, his hand instantly moved to the cursed creature lingering on his shoulder. It was suspicious. Did enemies manage to find this hideout? Where were you? His hands started sweating.

Stealthily, he approached the kitchen. To his surprise, he saw your form in front of the counter, hunched over in pain. Dropping his offensive stance immediately, he quickly strode over to check on you. “Hey, what are you doing there?” he asked, hesitatingly putting a hand on your shoulder. You looked at him, grimacing with pain, “Oh, Toji. I didn’t realize you were home yet. Sorry, I’m not done cooking dinner yet, I just feel so nauseous, exhausted and my entire back  and shoulders hurt so much. It’s so sore.” “I see.” He nodded, understanding what was happening. Suddenly, he lifted you effortlessly. You squealed, “Toji!! What are you doing?!” “Taking care of you,” he promised. “But dinner!” “Don’t care.”

Making his way to the bedroom, Toji laid down with you on top of him. Something about his warmth already made you feel better but as his large palms rubbed your back in circular motions, you felt as if you were in heaven. Toji’s ministrations soothed the pain so well, you almost let out a moan. Now that the pain didn’t overshadow all the other symptoms anymore, the drowsiness took over. “Toji, ‘m tired,” you mumbled; eyelids fluttering already. “Then sleep. I’ll take care of dinner later,” he whispered. You only hummed in response, already far too gone. Slowly but surely, his steady heartbeat lulled you to sleep. “Sleep tight.”

Taglist: @megumifushi​ @gojos-mochi​ @assbuttbaek​ @bleueluna​ 

[heytherejulietx]

cookie dough - stanley uris

↳ prompt requested by @bucky-j-barnes - “i’m helping you, and that’s final. i’m not taking no for an answer. now. where’s your kitchen? i’m making us some comfort food. For Stanley” i hope you like the fic love! ignore the shitty ending akdjwkde <3

↳ content warnings - period cramps, that’s it this is just a comfort fic

↳ 1.2k word count

↳ masterlists

@bucky-j-barnes @deadyfreddy @thosedamnnewsies @richietozierlvrr @sociallyakwardnerd @d22malfoys join my tag list

the doorbell rang and y/n groaned from where she was curled up on the sofa, willing them to go away. she felt like she physically couldn’t get up to answer it, so instead she pressed her face further into the couch cushions and hoped that whoever it was would go away.

she hadn’t been out of the house for three days, despite the fact that it was summer, because her period cramps had been killing her. she felt like she couldn’t even stand, let alone go on bike rides and fuck about at the quarry with the losers. ibuprofen could only do so much, but it couldn’t make her okay enough to go out. richie had called a thousand times about her absence, but she just told him that she was fine and needed some time to herself. which was partly true. she assumed that he wouldn’t want to hear that she was on her period.

the doorbell rang again and she felt like she could cry as she pressed the hot water bottle firmer against her belly, trying to get the last of its heat to work. the person at the door clearly wasn’t going away, so she bit her lip to keep from crying as she forced herself to her feet, and stumbled to the door.

“what do you want?” she pulled the door open with a little more force than necessary, and was surprised to see stanley uris stood on her doorstep, holding a few daisies that looked freshly picked. “stan?”

he was staring at her, and she looked down when she realised just how disheveled she looked. she was in the same pyjamas she had worn for a few days, her hair was a mess, and she was still hunched over slightly to keep the hot water bottle pressed to her abdomen.

“are you okay?” he was frowning, but when his eyes had cast downwards and caught on to the sight of the hot water bottle his eyes widened slightly and he scowled. “did bowers hurt you again?”

“no, no nobody hurt me,” y/n shook her head, and she could have smiled a little at how protective stanley was of her. he always had been, for as long as she had been friends with him. sometimes it made keeping her crush on him a secret so much harder. “i’m just cramping really bad.”

stan stared at her for a moment, and he seemed to catch on to why she was cramping when he had nodded after a moment, a look of realisation on his face. “do you need anything? let me help.” he offered and smiled.

y/n really wouldn’t be opposed to spending time with stan normally, but she felt like shit and really didn’t want him seeing her in such a bad state. even as she thought about it she winced and leaned against the wall, needing nothing more than to curl up in a ball and cry again. “i’m okay, stan, i just need to lay down.” she got out through gritted teeth as the pain started to increase. .

“y/n you can barely stand,” stanley frowned. “let me just stay in case you need help.”

“i’m fine,” she insisted, but stanley rolled his eyes as he stepped inside anyways. “stan-“

“i’m helping you, and that’s final. i’m not taking no for an answer,” he told her firmly, and shut the door behind him before he gently placed a hand on her lower back, leading her back into the house. “now. where’s your kitchen? i’m making us some comfort food. then you can curl up on the couch and i can keep an eye on you.”

truthfully, she had to smile as she walked along beside him, pointing in the direction of the kitchen. stanley had always been a good friend, and he was always willing to help with literally anything. one time he had stayed up with midnight with her when she had accidentally let her cat out and they needed to find her.

“stan?” he hummed as he turned to look at her. “can you heat this up for me? i need to lay down.” she handed him her hot water bottle, and he smiled kindly as he nodded.

“sure, go lay down y/n,” he nodded, before he paused and handed her the daisies that he was still holding. “oh, these are for you.”

y/n smiled kindly as she took them from him, and once she was sure he knew where he was going she walked back over to the sofa and curled up where she had been before, resting her head on the pillows she had propped up against the arm of the couch. the tv was playing a sitcom she wasn’t paying attention to as she tried to get comfortable, and eventually settled with laying on her side with her legs curled up. stanley returned shortly with the hot water bottle, and left again to make them some food once she had it pressed to her abdomen with a sigh of relief. she could hear stan pottering about in the kitchen as she tried to focus on the tv, and smiled softly to herself at just how lucky she was to have a friend like stan.

stan came back into the room after another ten minutes with a bowl and sat on the other end of the couch by her legs. “i made cookies, they’re in the oven. do you want the rest of the cookie dough?”

y/n nodded and reached to take the bowl from him, before she sat up slightly to eat it. he didn’t miss her wince, and she felt his hand against her arm as she tried to get settled in a new position that didn’t hurt as much.

“if you want you can lean against me.”

she looked up at stan at his offer and he smiled as he held his arm out for her. being careful so she didn’t tip the bowl over she shifted to lean against stan’s side and curled up her legs again to keep her hot water bottle against her abdomen, and sighed once she had gotten comfortable. she was still in pain, though not as much. besides, she was practically cuddled up against stanley. if she wasn’t in so much pain she would have had a heart attack by then.

they sat in silence for a moment as she ate the cookie dough, all the whole she was conscious that his fingers had started to tap patterns along her arm. it was oddly comforting.

“thank you for coming,” y/n tilted her head up to look at him, and watched as he smiled again as he took the empty bowl from her and placed it in his own lap instead.

“it’s no problem, y/n, i just wanted to make sure you were okay. i missed you.” he said softly, and she couldn’t help but smile in return.

“i missed you too, stannie.”

his arm had tightened around her as she leaned her head against his shoulder, and allowed herself to completely relax at his side, feeling a small fond smile creep onto her lips when stanley had pressed a kiss to the top of her head gently.

[jadegrey711]

Achey Thighs

Henry Cavill x Fem!Reader

A/N: For some reason i randomly find myself writing about Henry Cavill yet again. This guy really needs to be in more movies specifically romance movies lol. So this little story is based solely on true events, the true events being that i recently tired to workout and fucking killed my legs with lunges lol. Also the source for this gif can be found in the tags

*NOT MY GIF. Source is in the Tags*

Summary: Reader decides to workout with Henry and whilst doing some lunges she overexcerts herself and her muscles ache like crazy the next day. She assures Henry that she’s fine but he sees her limping and tells her the best thing to do is to rub it out.

If you like my stories you can check out my sideblog @jadegreywriting​ to see all of them and my masterlist without filtering through my main blog.

I own all rights to this story and do not give permission for my stories to be published, translated or reposted anywhere else. The only places I have published my stories is here on Tumblr and on my AO3 account (LadyAuthor711) 

This story is for 18+ ONLY. It contains sexual themes that are not suited for younger audiences so if you’re under 18 my blog and this story is not for you. Please make sure to read at your own discretion and remember that you are solely responsible for your content intake. 

It was a new year so that meant it was time for a new you. You had to admit that during quarantine you had gotten extremely lazy; Henry did too for a bit at the very beginning. And you had to admit that having him home all the time to cook for the both of you, along with lying about and messing around anytime you wanted was pure bliss. However, as soon as production was able to ramp up again;  he was right back to his early morning routines. So, you decided that you weren’t going to be a lazy lout anymore and decided to join him in his routine one day. 

You heard the alarm buzz and gasped awake, feeling a hint of drool on the pillow. “I’m awake. I’m awake.” You muttered and twisted in bed to find Henry already sitting up and smiling down at you. 

“Babe. Are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean it’s four in the morning, this is not your usual prowling hours.” he chuckled. 

“No.” you said sitting up in bed. “I said I wanted to do this with you and I meant it.” You stated before, gruffly getting out of bed, hearing Henry’s chuckles behind you. 

“Alright then. I’ll see you downstairs in ten to fifteen minutes yeah? Make sure you bundle up. It's cold out there.”

You let out an involuntary shiver at the thought of going outside this early in the morning. 

*****

Well that wasn’t too bad of a way to spend the morning. 

You knew that Henry purposely went easy on you this morning, knowing full well that his training and morning routines don’t consist of power walking, but it made you smile to think that he did it for you. Plus, even though it was freezing outside the walk itself was wonderful; being able to take in the early morning before the world was awake, with you and Henry chatting as you walked. Towards the end of the walk and as you neared closer back to the house, Henry noticed you were starting to shiver and wrapped a strong arm around you and brought you close to him. 

You immediately let out a low moan of appreciation as you felt his heat radiate into your cold skin. “God, you’re still so warm, even after being out here for an hour!” You smiled, snuggling closer into him. 

He let out a small chuckle, tugging you tighter to him. “Don’t worry this next part won’t be nearly as cold.” he smiled. 

“What are we doing?” You asked tentatively. 

“I thought we could work on some strength training together. I know you said you wanted to get in better shape.” he paused, a smile coming to his lips. “Although I personally think you are perfect as you are.” He smiled again before placing a quick kiss to your lips, causing your cheeks to heat. “However, I thought that strength training would be a good place to start and of course it won’t be something insane.” 

“Okay, that sounds like fun. Then after that are you going to bench me?” You chuckled as he opened the door. 

“Oh hell yes. That’s the only reason for me to stay in shape. So I can pick you up and throw you over my shoulders any time I please.” He said before his hands shot out to your hips and you let out a squeal of delight; as he stole you away into the house to begin your first day of strength training.

*******

“Fuck.” You groaned as you slowly got up from the couch, trying not to wince too loud as you made your way upstairs for another ibuprofen. You knew those lunges were a bad idea, you’d never been able to do them right and in consequence you’d always gotten hurt. 

However, this time you didn’t think you’d actually hurt yourself you were just this out of shape.

As you grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen, you heard Henry coming up the stairs. 

“Babe? Are you still sore?” 

“Yeah!” You shouted back from the bathroom, and a moment later Henry was standing there leaning on the bathroom door frame. 

“How bad does it hurt?” He asked, concern etching his face. He came up behind you and began rubbing your shoulders. 

You smiled. “My thighs don’t necessarily hurt, their just sore like fucking crazy.” 

Henry nodded and thought for a moment. “You’re not used to this kind of training but I’ll get you there.” He smiled. “But, I have an idea that I’m sure will help you out. Go lay down baby and I’ll be there in a second.” He said kissing your head. 

“Okay.” you nodded and tried so hard not to limp away but it was useless. You let out a loud groan as you sat on the bed, your legs outstretched in front of you as you waited for Henry to come out of the bathroom.

When he came out of the bathroom and into the bedroom he had your bottle of Aveeno lotion. You cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“What do you think you’re going to be doing with that?” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He smirked. “I know you’re sore, and it doesn’t matter how much ibuprofen you take right now the only way to really help with that soreness is to rub it out.” 

“Alright.” You said, and bit your bottom lip. “I’m liking this much better already. So you’re going to massage me? And it’s not even our anniversary!” You giggled and Henry let out a loud laugh. 

“Are you going to let me help you or are you gonna give me shit the entire time?” 

“Giving you shit is my born prerogative.” You chuckled, then got up onto your knees and reached out for him and pulled him into your embrace so you could kiss him. 

Henry slowly pulled away. “Alright, you’ve had your fun, now lay down and take off your pants.” He smirked.

“Oh! Now we’re cooking with fire!” you giggled.  

“Y/N.” He said, his face showing that he means business now. 

“Alright!” You giggled and started to take off your leggings, until you were laying on the bed in only Henry’s oversized shirt. 

“Good. Now tell me where is it sore the most? On the back of your thighs? The front? Does your calves hurt at all?” he asked his face filled with seriousness. 

“It’s the front of my thighs that hurt the most.” You said as you positioned yourself so you were laying completely flat on the bed the only thing that was elevated was your head. 

“Alright. Henry said simply, and then proceeded to climb on the bed and position himself so he was between your legs. He guided your legs so they were wrapped behind his back, and you laid open to him. 

“Henry. What are you doing?” You asked confused but intrigued just the same.

He lightly shushed you and grabbed the lotion bottle and rubbed some into his hands before he brought those strong hands down on your aching thighs.

You let out a soft hiss. But his hands didn’t waver as they continued to softly rub your thighs. He started out by using the tips of his fingers, so his touch was soft at first. Then as he continued working on your sore muscles he started using the palm of his hands. So he could work the deeper knots in the muscle. 

You let out a small sigh, as you felt your aching muscles ease under his touch, but you also felt something else as his strong hands worked you. You felt your arousal growing, watching him there between your thighs, his hands alleviating your pain but also bringing you pleasure as you watch them glide up and down your skin. His face a mask of shere concentration as he massaged you, only to look up at your face every now and again and each time he did, you could see his own arousal growing in his eyes. 

His hands moved a bit lower than they needed to, grinding them into your hips before coming back up your thighs and stopping at your knees; repeating the same motions. 

“How does this feel?” He asked, and it came out breathy. This had to be affecting him as much as it was affecting you. 

“It feels really good baby.” You purred, knowing now that you were a puddle in his hands now. 

“How good?” He licked his lips, then you felt his hands trace the inside of your thighs and before he could touch you where you needed him to, his hands went back up again. 

“Henry.” You gasped, feeling just how drenched you were for him and those hands of his right now. 

“Tell me how good it feels, Y/N.” He said, his voice holding a tone of command. His hands went back down to where they almost brushed your mound. 

“It feels so good, baby.” You purred and arched your hips up to him, letting him know exactly what you want. 

“Oh yeah?” he teased. 

“Yes.” You hissed. “Henry please, touch me.” You pleaded and to your sweet relief felt his fingers brush your pussy lips, separating them as he traced down your folds. 

“You’re so wet for me Y/N.”

You couldn’t think coherently with Henry’s fingers tracing your folds with him in between your thighs so you just nodded, feeling like you were going to explode if he didn’t properly touch you soon. 

“Such a good girl.” He purred as he put down your legs so he could lean over you and kiss you deeply. You let out a low moan as you finally got what you wanted and you felt Henry’s finger slide into, and started crooking it in a come hither motion. Adding gas to the already roaring fire inside you. 

“You know how much I love you Y/N.” he said against your neck, sucking your skin knowing that it’ll leave a mark there. 

You moaned and grabbed onto his curly locks as he pushed another finger inside of you, and you could feel that familiar climb in your lower belly as you knew you were about to reach your climax. 

“So good.” he purred in your ear and you felt yourself go over the edge and grip tightly onto his fingers as your climax raked over you. 

“God, I love you so much Henry.” You moaned somewhat unintelligently. Henry didn’t seem to mind at all as he slipped his fingers out of you and fell to the bed next to you. 

“Well that’s not at all where i intended that to go.” He laughed and you laughed with him. 

“You started it! Telling me to take off my pants then putting yourself between my legs!” you laughed. 

“Okay, maybe I did mean for it to go there.” he laughed. “So, does this mean that we’re doing this every time we work out?

[thatfanficstuff]

Late Night Libations - Chris Argent

Pairing: Chris Argent x Reader

Warnings: talk of injury, drinking

A/N: Celebration Summer #11. Prompt was Person A wearing Person B's clothes. Also, look at that man up there. Hot Damn.

WC: 1176

***

You sat on the floor in Allison Argent’s bedroom and watched her sleep. You weren’t trying to be creepy, you were just in too much pain to sleep at the moment. The pack had fought with a group of rogues moving through the area. You’d been clawed and tossed into a tree. After Melissa stitched you up, she’d sent you off with the admonishment you couldn’t go home alone just in case of a concussion. Allison had immediately offered to bring you home with her.

Though you were a few years older than her, the two of you had become quick friends and often looked out for each other. So, she’d driven you to her house and helped you clean up when you kept pulling your stitches trying to do it yourself. As you were curvier than Ali, she’d raided her dad’s closet to get you a sweater and a pair of his sleep pants. You were warm and comfortable and in any other circumstances you would have curled up and been out like a light.

But you hurt. You ached deep in your bones. Plus, your head was buzzing in the way it only did after a fight. You always ran everything over and over again in your head thinking of all the different ways it could have played out. It was worse when you or someone else had been injured as you figured out how things could have gone differently. You’d hoped to just calm your brain enough you could go back to sleep but it didn’t appear as if that was going to happen anytime soon.

With a sigh, you eased yourself up off the floor. You knew where the pain killers and the alcohol were. Not the best combination but as long as you didn’t take anything stronger than Advil you figured you’d be fine. The whiskey would probably do you more good than the pills anyway. You made your way to the kitchen and popped three Ibuprofen with a glass of water. Then you padded out to the garage and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the cabinet Chris kept it in.

He didn’t want it in the house where there were often unsupervised teenagers so he kept it in the garage which was under full video surveillance. You and Derek were legal however and had shared a drink with the hunter more than once. Not as often as you’d like if you were honest. You’d had some seriously naughty thoughts about that man.

You carried the bottle into the kitchen and poured some into the glass you’d used for water.

“Pour me one while you’re at it.” The deep voice coming from behind you made you jump and you clenched your teeth as the stitches pulled.

“Christ, Argent. You scared the shit out of me.”

He chuckled as he moved closer. “Sorry.”

You hummed and shot him a look. He wasn’t sorry in the least. You handed him his glass before twisting the lid back on the bottle. When you sipped at your drink, you closed your eyes as you savored the taste. Feeling his gaze, you turned to him with a lifted brow. “Yes?”

He swallowed and his tongue ran along his bottom lip as his eyes trailed over you. “Are those my clothes?”

Your face heated and you tugged on the hem of the sweater. “Yeah. Sorry.” His gaze darkened and you had a hard time reading his expression. “My clothes were torn up and bloody. Ali said you wouldn’t mind.”

His expression shifted instantly as he sat his glass on the counter. He stepped closer to you. “What happened?” His voice was heavy with worry.

“We finally caught up with those rogues. I got clawed and tossed into a tree. Not my finest hour.” You always hated admitting any failings to him, afraid he’d think you weren’t capable.

“Let me see.” It was a cross between a demand and a request. He closed the little remaining distance between the two of you. You moved to lift the sweater, hissing when your stitches pulled again. His eyes locked on yours. “May I?” he asked as he gestured to your side.

At your nod, he lifted the sweater slowly. Only when the wound was fully exposed did his gaze move from your face to your side. “Damn it, sweetheart. I thought I told you to be more careful.”

You gave a little shrug. “It could have been worse. Glue fixed most of it. Only the deepest parts got the stitches.”

He shot you a glare before quickly returning his attention to your wound. “Let me see where you hit the tree.” You turned so he could see your back. You hadn’t seen it so you had no idea what it looked like. Fingers ran over your skin. “Fuck,” he breathed out and let the sweater drop.

You turned to face him to find he’d taken a step back. His jaw was set and his arms were crossed over his chest. “What did the doctor say?”

You bit your lip and glanced away.

His arms dropped and he stepped back into your space. He said your name but it was more than just your name; it was a warning.

Your eyes found his again. “It would just be so much to try to explain. Melissa fixed me up.”

“Well, that’s just lovely, sweetheart, but since when does Melissa have an x-ray machine to look at your back when it bounces off a tree?” You’d heard Chris angry before, but it had never been directed at you.

You looked at him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry?”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. After a moment, he pulled you into his arms. Tension flowed from you and you wrapped your arms around his waist. “No, I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I worry about you almost more than Allison. At least she has the crossbow and can stay the hell out of the line of fire.”

He should probably tell her that. He’d have a coronary if he saw how up close and personal she used that thing sometimes. “You don’t have to worry about me, Chris. I can take care of myself.”

A sound of agreement left his lips and he placed a hand on the side of your face as he leaned back. “And what if I want to worry about you, sweetheart?”

You simply gazed at him without responding until he bent down to capture your lips with his. The kiss was short, sweet and long overdue. When he pulled away, you fisted your hands in his flannel to pull him back to you. He laughed against your lips but gave you what you wanted.

When Allison woke in the morning and couldn’t find you, she headed downstairs. Frowning at the quiet, she searched the lower level of the house. She found you and her father curled up together on the couch sound asleep. Smiling, she crept back up to her room texting Lydia as she went.

[onebourbon-oneshot-onetear]

Letterkenny- 5 Times Wayne Fell in Love With You

(Not my Gif)

Notes: This was meant to be a quick little oneshot, but it ended up being five pages long. I figured since there are a few Letterkenny fics I would have to write some myself lol

Warnings: Language (it's Letterkenny, duh...), ooc for Wayne? Fluff?

1. Whenever you helped with the chorin’

- When you were sitting outside, drinking some Puppers in the sun in the middle of an afternoon

- There weren’t enough chairs, but you didn’t mind, so you took your usual seat on the ground next to Wayne so you could lean against his legs

- You had lost track about what exactly the boys were talking about, but it didn’t matter. You were just happy to be sitting around with your friends

-Wayne nudged your head with his knee and you were jolted back into the conversation

- “What do you think, Miss/Mr. y/n?” Dan asked you

- “About what?” you asked

- “Going to MoDean’s for drinks,” Daryl said

- “Sure, I’ll go. When are we going?” You asked

-Wayne gently moved your head from his leg so you didn’t whack it on the chair and stood up. - “As soon as the chorin’ is done, which I was supposed to get help with,” He said, glaring at Dan and Daryl

-You tapped Wayne’s leg so he looked down at you. You held both hands up above your head, silently asking him to help you up.

-He took both your hands and hauled you off the ground with essentially no effort because of the wonderful muscles he hid under his flannels

-As soon as you were on your feet you turned around and started marching towards some of the hay bales

- “Pitter patter, let’s get at ‘er,” You said as you left

- Your back was to the boys so you missed the smile and head nod that Wayne had thrown to your retreating figure

- “y/n isn’t afraid to help with the chorin’, and that’s one of the things I appreciates about them,” Dan said

- “Take 20% off there Squirrely Dan,” Wayne said before marching off to follow you, who was already picking up a hay bale and throwing onto the back of the truck.

2. When you take care of everybody after they’re drinking

- It was hard to imagine since you spent all your time with the group, but you weren’t a big drinker

- You would spend the whole night nursing a beer or two or doing a few shots

-You were definitely the most responsible with alcohol out of everyone

- Which meant it was very often you were stuck with the aftermath of the drinking

- It wasn’t unusual for you to have to shove everyone in Wayne’s truck and drive them all home

- Getting everyone in the truck was the hardest part

-On really bad nights, the three boys were the worst

- “Daryl, I swear to fuck if you try and put your nipples on me one more time, I’m ripping them off,” you growled while helping Gail with putting all the empty bottles on the bar

- “Do you’s want to race me?” Dan barely slurred out, leaning against the bar to catch his balance

- “No, Dan, I don’t,” You rolled your eyes and grabbed the last few bottles and handed them to Gail

-Wayne was fairly easy, he was sitting at the end of the bar, giving a few adorable chuckles about nothing every few minutes

-Finally the bar looked somewhat back to normal and you waved goodbye to Gail and started herding the boys.

-Daryl ran at you with his shirt off, and keeping your promise, gave him the biggest purple nurple he had ever received

-He just laughed at it, but boy would he feel it in the morning

-Dan was now trying to get Wayne to race him, but Wayne was still giggling to himself

- “Hey you two, why don’t you see who can get to the truck first,” you called to Dan and Daryl, and they both damn near tripped over themselves to see who could get there first.

-Daryl definitely won

- You put your arm around Wayne’s shoulders and helped him off the bar stool.

- He flashed you the biggest smile and you were reminded that you actually loved seeing Wayne this drunk because it was the only time he actually relaxed

- “You’re a great fucking gal/guy, y/n” Wayne said between chuckles

-The heat rose to your cheeks, but you assumed he was only saying that because he was so drunk

- “So are you Wayne, now let’s get you home,” You said, leading him to the truck

-Daryl had his bare chest on the door of the car, but you didn’t want to bother with it. You would just let Wayne kick his ass tomorrow

-All the boys were put in the truck and you started your rounds of taking them home

-You got Dan and Daryl to their front doors before you headed to Wayne's house

-Katy said you could stay in her room since she was staying at a guys house for the night

-Don’t worry, you had already threatened the guy with death if he so much as thought about hurting her

- You got Wayne up the stairs and into bed, politely taking his boots off and innocently taking off his jeans and tucked him into bed

-He would give a quiet giggle every few minutes, but he was definitely on the verge of falling asleep

-You got him a glass of water and some ibuprofen and put them on his bedside table before falling asleep in Katy’s room

-The next morning, Wayne would be awoken to the smell of breakfast and he would make his way downstairs to see you in the kitchen in a pair of shorts and an oversized shirt

-He would sit at the table with his head down and you would pour him a cup of juice and set it down in front of him

- “Y/n, thanks for getting us all home,” He would say, albeit much quieter than he usually talked. Probably because of the hangover

- “You’re welcome, Sweetie,” You would say with a huge smile on your face, which would earn you a glare from Wayne, but it would disappear as soon as you put food in front of him. Instead it would be replaced with a grateful smile

-Because he knew you were a great fucking gal/guy

3. When you took care of Stormy

-You loved dogs.

-Like, loved dogs

-More than you loved almost anything else

-So when Stormy wouldn’t leave the barn, you were worried sick

-Wayne was too, but he would never show it

-He would call the vet but even in the small town of Letterkenny the vet wasn’t available 24 hours a day

- When the vet said they couldn’t be there for another day or two, you were devastated

- Wayne said Stormy would be fine for a few days and this wasn’t the first time it had happened

-But that didn’t matter much to you

- So for that whole day you didn’t stray too far from the barn where Stormy was laying

- Katy even brought food out to you when you didn’t want to come in for dinner

-Knowing that you wouldn’t want to leave the poor shepherd for too long, Katy got the couch made up for you to stay with her and Wayne

-He was pretty used to you hanging around the house anyway so it was no surprise and he just accepted it

-What he didn’t expect was to go downstairs in the middle of the night for some water to see the couch was empty

-He went up to Katy’s room but you weren’t there either

-Worry spiked through him as he registered that you weren’t in the house

-Until he saw a light on in the barn

-And he knew exactly where you were

-He put on a coat and grabbed a few blankets and headed to the barn

-When he approached the door, he thought he would see you on one of the chairs, or even laying on the upper deck

-What he didn’t expect was to see you laying in the hay right next to Stormy

-A small blanket covering both of them

-He stared at the sight before him for a minute before placing a heavier blanket on both his girls and taking a seat in one of the plastic chairs

-As he looked you over his heart got that weird fluttering feeling that only happened when he looked at you

-The chair wasn’t comfortable, but he settled down the best he could before closing his eyes

-Because he sure as shit wasn’t going to leave them both out in the chilly night air

4. When you only danced with him

-Wayne wasn’t much of a dancer

-He usually stayed at the bar drinking and watching everyone else

-Until he saw you on the dancefloor with Katy

-Both of you were having fun, without a care in the world

-He didn’t always understand how people enjoyed jumping around a dance floor, pushing into each other

- Until he saw you, smiling and carefree

-He could see how you would enjoy it

- He enjoyed watching you do it

- But when the song changed from an upbeat dance to a slower one, he saw the nervousness on your face

- Katy had gone on to dance with the 2 hockey players, leaving you alone on the floor

- He was going to wave you over for a Puppers, to sit down and have a drink with him

- Until

- Some uptown degen had grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, trying to dance with you

- And even from where he was sitting he could see you say no

- But this degen obviously didn’t know what was going to come to him if he didn’t let you go

- So Wayne took another swig of his drink, stood up, and marched right over to you

- He glared at the guy and shoved him away, standing in front of you until the degen scampered away from the crowd

- “I had him by the ropes,” you muttered, looking down at your shoes

- “Sure you did,” Wayne said, scanning the room to make sure the degen didn’t come back with any friends

- You both stood there awkwardly while everyone else was swaying to the music

- Finally you slyly held your hand out, asking him for a dance

- He looked between your hand and your face, before taking it and pulling you closer to him, his hand on your waist and yours falling on his shoulder

- You were slightly surprised that he had even decided to dance with you, but you weren’t going to question it too much

- It was rare that people saw this side of Wayne, especially in public

- So you just went with it and put your head on his shoulder

- “I thought you didn’t want to dance?” Wayne asked

- “No, I didn’t want to dance with some degen. I’ll always take a dance from you,” you said

- Wayne chuckled and pulled you a little closer

- He’d have to find a way to get you to dance with him outside of MoDean’s

5. When you patched him up after a fight

- Wayne was the toughest guy in Letterkenny

- Everyone knew that

- And for the most part, you liked it

- Except when Wayne had to prove that he was the toughest guy in Letterkenny

- Aka when he had to fight

- He always won, but that didn’t mean he didn’t catch a few hits along the way

- As the reigning tough guy in Letterkenny, Wayne never showed that he was hurt

- He usually hid behind a bottle of Puppers or Gus N’ Bru until the night was over

- Then he would give some half assed attempt to clean himself up

- Except he sucked at it

- So that’s where you stepped in

- Growing up in Letterkenny, you knew how to patch up wounds

- So as soon as you could get him alone, you would, ignoring his protests the whole time

- At first, you had to damn near tackle Wayne to get him to sit down so you could patch him up

- Even jumping onto his back to try and weigh him down

- It didn’t work, he just slung you off and caught you before you hit the floor, set you down, and stormed out of the bathroom

- This happened again and again until you tried a new tactic

- Begging

- Wayne could refuse most people’s begging

- But not yours

- Especially when you hit him with the puppy dog eyes

- So the first time you tried it, and said please, he sat down on the sink in the bathroom with a whispered “fuck a duck”, and let you patch him up

- You wiped the blood from his lip and disinfected the cuts on his knuckles

- And this became a routine almost every time he got into a fight

- Which was a lot

- His reluctance eventually diminished, and you swore that sometimes he looked forward to having you help him

- Although he would never tell his buddies

- But Katy teased you about it from time to time

- The last time you patched him up, Wayne had gotten into a pretty bad fight

- He had a busted lip, a blackened eye, and numerous cuts on his knuckles

- This fight wasn’t a typical ‘Toughest Guy in Letterkenny’ fight

- You had no idea what started this one, but Wayne hadn’t been this hurt in a while

- He had walked into the house where you were watching a movie with Katy, stood in front of you guys for a moment, and then walked into the bathroom and sat on the sink

- Katy had nudged you towards him and resumed the movie

- You walked into the bathroom and pulled out the first aid kit that you had stashed away after the first few fights

- You got out the bandages and hydrogen peroxide and got to work, gently working from his eye to his knuckles

- “I take it this wasn’t a planned fight?” you asked him, throwing a cotton ball into the trash can

- “Not exactly,” he said, “Some fuckin’ degens were talking about some of the girls in town, fucking degens,” he muttered

- “Ah,” I said, putting a small bandage on his right hand

- You're little Batman of Letterkenny

- You went to release his hand but he grabbed yours instead

- You looked up into his eyes and saw that he was already looking into yours

- “You don’t have to patch me up every time, you know,” He said, barely moving his thumb across your own knuckles

- You smiled, your cheeks turning red. “I know, but I want to. Lord knows you can’t do it yourself,” you laughed, not moving

- He gave you a rare smile and let go of your hand

- You finished with his hand and patted his shoulder, signaling that you were done

- He hopped off the counter and watched as you put everything away

- You brushed past him and left the bathroom and went to go sit on the couch and resume the movie

- Wayne went to the fridge, grabbed a Puppers, and sat next to you on the couch

- As the movie played on, you felt your eyes drooping and your yawns had increased, some of them threatening to split your face in half

- At some point your head leaned over onto Wayne’s shoulder and your eyes closed for the night

- Wayne only dragged a blanket onto you and shifted his shoulder down for you to rest your head better

- He ignored Katy’s raised eyebrows and beaming smile and turned his attention back to the movie

- But as he looked at his wrapped hand again, he glanced back at you asleep on his shoulder, and figured enough was enough.

- He would tell you in the morning

[vampsquerade]

hihi!! so, i don’t see much online for goyo and wanted to ask if you could write a goyo fluff fic w a fem reader, where he’s nursing her back to health bc she caught a bad case of the flu? muchas gracias if you can!

omg YES! thank you for requesting, i’ve always wanted to write something for my favorite mexican rep in a video game, he makes me feel so seen. shoutout to all my fellow goyo lovers (bonus points to those who are also mexican like me) and sorry if it’s kinda short! i ran out of other ideas for this but i hope you enjoy!!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Goyo x Fem!Reader: Taken Care Of

Trigger Warnings: Illness (the flu), rompe pecho (this is mostly just a joke warning bc if you’ve had to take this at any point in your life you KNOW it’s so nasty it needs a warning)

As you woke up in the morning, you immediately realized something was wrong with you. You were groggier than normal, body temperature was much higher than it was the night before, had a sore throat, and couldn’t really breathe from your nose properly. “Fuck, gotta call in sick from base today.” you say, grabbing your phone and calling Harry to let him know you couldn’t get yourself to work the hostage practices this upcoming week due to your sudden illness. Harry said it was fine and for you to get well soon, and you got yourself up out of bed. “César? Are you here?” you call out as you walk out of your shared room, phone still in your hand. There was no response, and you walked through the house and decided to call César.

He answered immediately, “¡Buenas días, amorcita! Sleep okay?” he asked in his usual, relaxed tone. “I did yeah, but I think I’m going to sleep terribly the next couple of nights.” you say, walking through the kitchen and looking through your medicine cabinet. “Oh? Why’s that?” he asked, now becoming concerned. You then move your free arm up to your face and cough into your elbow, and your voice immediately becomes hoarse, “I think that could answer your question. I’m sick with the flu, papas.” you say. “Ay, pobrecita de mi reina. I’m at the store right now, have you found our flu medicine yet? If not, I’ll buy us some more.” César said.

You kept rummaging around and didn’t find it, frowning at the lack of it. “No, unfortunately we don’t have anything. Just your vitamins are inside the cabinet.” you say. “Alright. Are you allergic to ibuprofen or acetaminophen, or not at all to both of them?” César asked. “I’m not allergic to either of them, I’ll be fine.” you reassure him, smiling. “Alright, I’ll pick some things up for you. I’ll see you in about an hour and a half, alright?” he said. “Sounds good to me! Be careful, alright love?” you say, getting yourself a cup to fill with some water to drink “You know it, mi reina. ¡Te quiero mucho!” César exclaimed. “I love you more, see you then.” you say, hanging up on him.

You then decided to make yourself a small breakfast, taking a vitamin C pill to keep your immune system as much as you can. Your symptoms however, were much faster than the vitamin C, and progressively got worse and worse. Your body began to ache, muscles becoming weak, and you filled up a bottle with some water so you didn’t dehydrate as you stayed in bed. You decided to doze off and let that hour César promised you pass by. When you found yourself waking up again, you heard the front door opening up. “¡Mi reina! Are you in bed again?” he asked. “Yes! Please hurry, I’m dying!” you yell back, sitting yourself up as best you can.

You then heard César’s footsteps coming towards your room and he opened the door, frowning at your current state. “Ay, ¡mi pobre reina! No te me mueres, I’ll get you back and well in no time.” he said, kneeling next to the bed before opening up the liquid flu medicine with a picture of honey dripping off a honey dripper along with the name of the medicine, which was in Spanish, and you smiled at how cute and simple it was. “What cute little packaging…what is this by the way?” you ask before covering your mouth to cough. “It’s called Rompe Pecho, it’s cough and flu medicine. In about three days, you’ll practically be all better. I will warn you though, sabe absolutamente horrible, and runs down thick. ¿Tienes agua? Cause you’ll definitely need it.” César asked, removing the little measuring cup and the cap.

You nodded and reached over to grab your bottle of water off your nightstand. As you looked back at César, you saw he had just finished up measuring how much you needed to take, a serious look on his face. “What’s got you making that face, hm?” you ask. “Oh, just trying to see if it’s all measured out for you. Now,” he said, passing you the small cup, “take this as quickly as possible, and drink water immediately after. Both the initial and aftertastes are bad.” Grabbing the small measuring cup, you make sure to sniff it and are immediately repulsed by the smell. César couldn’t help but laugh a bit at you, gently patting your thigh. “Go on now, es por tu bien.” he said, watching you.

Now apprehensive, you nod and immediately take the medicine like a shot of tequila. The flavor is strong, syrupy in texture, and practically viscous as you swallow. You immediately drink water, trying to flush it out. “Eso mero, mi reina,” César said, taking the tiny measuring cup from you and placing it onto your nightstand before rummaging in the bag he brought with him for something else. “What are you looking for?” you ask hoarsely, coughing into your elbow once again as you watch him. “I got you some Vapor Rub, my favorite cure for congestion. Are you comfortable with me massaging it onto your chest?“ he asked. You nodded, “Do what you can to cure me, doctor.” you say, giggling afterwards. César laughed softly, opening up the container as he stood up off his knees.

He then removed the little seal, putting some onto his fingers before rubbing it completely onto his palms. “Can you lay down and lift your shirt up for me?” he asked. Complying with what he needed, you lay back properly and lift your shirt up, also making sure to move your bra. César visibly flustered upon seeing your bare chest before shaking away any thoughts, bringing his hands down to gently later and massage the soothing rub onto your chest. You let out a sigh of relief, one that resembled a bit of a moan, your entire body relaxing. Almost immediately, your sinuses reopened and you laughed softly to yourself.

Disappointed once César has finished lathering the Vapor Rub onto your chest, you frown up at him. “That felt so good, and it smells so nice…will you do it again?” you ask. “I’ll put some more on you every two hours. You go ahead and rest, I’ll get some broth ready for you.” he said, leaning down and kissing your forehead. He made sure to tuck you into the blanket securely before shutting all the blinds so the sunshine didn’t hit you as you slept. “Hey, César..?” you call out softly, drowsiness beginning to hit you. “¿Qué pasó mi reina?” he asked, turning back to look at you through the door he was about to close. “I’ll be sure to make it up to you for taking good care of me, querido.” you say in an almost teasing voice. “You don’t have to, I’m just upholding my responsibility of taking care of you.” César said, giving you a heartwarming smile. “I love you…so much César…” you say softly as you find yourself drifting off to sleep. “I love you more…get your rest.” he said softly, exiting the room as you finally fell asleep.

[the-night-writer1]

Oh god prompt but maybe an AU where Wukong doesn't know he's pregnant until the very end. Attributes morning sickness and aches to stress and one too many bad fights, doesn't show much and again chalks up the weight gain to stress. Bonus points if he goes into labor while in a fight/argument with Mac and neither of them know what's going on

Oooo)

Wukong found himself sore once again as he sat up in bed. For the love of the gods why was he so sore. Was he really this stressed out? He rubbed the bridge of his nose as he got out of bed. Damn he really needed to figure out this stress thing, it had him throwing up, constantly sore, and he seemed to be easily overwhelmed by his own emotions.

Wukong walked into his kitchen and grabbed some stuff to make himself some breakfast. Not a big breakfast mind you, he was trying to cut down on the food as he had gotten slightly chonky. Which was a little odd with how much he'd been throwing up but he assumed it was another stress related issue like his pissed off back. His tail laid limp behind him as he started to cook himself a small bit of eggs.

The monkey king had a quiet breakfast and as he rubbed his back with one hand. He ate with the other. He must have jarred in his sleep.

"dammit" Wukong mumbled as he pushed the bowl away as he was getting green around the gills. He got up and went to the trash can to hurl. He had things to do today, hopefully this was it.

A hour or so later Wukong was walking through flower fruit mountain forest. Checking that all the monkeys' dens made it after last night's storm. He wasn't in his usual attire, more of a t shirt and sweatpants. He was too sore to put in the effort.

"pfft what's with the get up Wukong?" A familiar voice said mocking him from a nearby tree. Wukong rolled his eyes, not wanting to deal with the monkey at the moment. Macaque only continued to mock as he tried to walk away,"the great monkey king being lazy today?hm?"

"What do you want Macaque?" Wukong grumbled as he heard the other monkey laugh. He didn't hear what the monkey said before Macaque grabbed him back the tail and pulled him backwards.

This caused him a lot more pain than macaque was expecting. Wukong let out a yelp of pain as he pulled backwards. Macaque let go of his in surprise and was met with being kicked into a nearby tree. A very weak kick considering it was Wukong who kicked him.

Shortly after that kick Wukong crumbled, falling to the ground in pain. Macaque got himself out of the tree preparing to start the fight proper when he saw Wukong on the ground. Wukong had his arms wrapped around his stomach, curled up on the ground.

"Wukong what's wrong with you why are you on the ground" Macaque said as he ran over to the monkey king.

"I don't know" Wukong rasped as he laid there shaking. He was in so much sudden pain at the moment.what was wrong with him?

Macaque swatted down and tried to think of something. He couldn't fight Wukong like this, it wouldn't be a fair fight. He swallowed air as he placed a hand on Wukong's shoulder and asked," do you know what you need at all? Other than the pain to stop."

"H-home take me home" Wukong begged softly as he tried to push himself up but his body was screaming at him. Macaque nodded and careful scooped him up. Macaque moved quickly towards Wukong's house as the monkey king groaned in pain.

He had a nest in his living room surprisingly. Macaque could have sworn near of them used nests anymore but he could rethink about that later. He laid the worsening monkey king down in the nest and went to find pain killers.

Wukong turned on to his side as the pain continued. Something was in him, fuck something was in him causing this. What the hell could be in him, Wukong thought as he bit into his pillow.

"gotcha!" Macaque said as he finally found some ibuprofen. He rushed back over to the monkey king and sat beside the nest. He set the bottle down and brushed some hair out of Wukong's face. Wukong had a tight grip on the pillow he bit into as Macaque tried to look him over.

"Peaches be honest with me" the shadow monkey said calmly as he noticed something about Wukong's supposed extra weight seemed to be shifting,"do you think you could possibly be pregnant?"

"What!? Why would you- " Wukong hissed mostly out of pain before he gave a thought. Oh no, oh no no he messed up. Of course it wasn't fucking stress, how could he be that stupid? He buried his face in the pillow he'd been destroying with his teeth.

"hey hey you're not alone I'm right here okay" Macaque tried to reassure him. This way off from what either of them had expected to happen today. Macaque tried to figure out what to do now. He was a deer in head lights, fuck he had to do something.

To say the least there was definitely a few minutes of Macaque freaking out and spacing out at the same time as Wukong with some minor struggles managed to get his pants off and pulled Macaque down to bury his face into the others chest. Macaque wrapped his arms around Wukong trying to give him support.

He was soon proven right in his theory as the cries of a baby monkey filled his ears.he turned his head to see the little guy as Wukong panted and laid back in the nest. Macaque carefully picked the messy newborn up.

"hey little guy. You snuck up on us" macaque said softly as he wiped some gunk off the little one. They were just the cutest little chubby baby. He was surprised Wukong wasn't showing at all. He carefully placed the baby who's calming down on Wukong and said," I'm going to go get some stuff to clean you both up okay peaches."

"alright" Wukong mumbled softly as Macaque kissed his forehead. He wrapped his arms around the newborn gently.

This was going to be quite the time.

[wandsandwheezes]

Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH6

one // two // three // four // five

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff, masturbation, hate sex, heartbreak, blood

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London’s best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

A/N // thank you to my angst goblin, Lanie @gcdric​ and my angel Zahra @starlightweasley​ for helping me get this one out bc otherwise id be STUCK

One new message

The sound of the answer machine rang through Fred’s flat, he was staring out over London and her twinkling lights. His waistcoat was loose, hanging open at his chest - tie discarded the moment he stumbled through the door. He’d pretty much flung the sliding glass door to the balcony open, letting the biter breeze whip through his hair, blowing the once still curtain so that it flew in a way that mimicked the way a superhero’s cape flows. 

The night of partying had been a wild but well needed distraction. Fred couldn’t stop the image of your kiss from playing over and over in his head, his fingers ghosted over where the absent feeling of your lips lingered, wishing you were here. 

“Freddie…” You breathed down the phone, your words slurred still as the liquor clung to your senses. 

“About what happened tonight, I don’t think it was-” His heart began to race at the simple thought, the steamy kiss was crossing his mind once again, He heard you take a moment, a pause for thought and he held his breath with you. 

“I just - we need to talk. We- I have something to tell you.” You sighed, he was praying he could just call you back, checking his watch, he knew it was too late. What If he did call, would that be so bad? 

“I’m sorry, Fred.” the sound of you putting down the phone echoed in his brain. Sorry. What could you possibly be sorry for? It could possibly be one of the best kisses of his life. He couldn’t deny the electricity that he felt from tip to toe and he knew deep down that you felt it too. So why did he feel a pang of sadness hit his chest, winding him like a dementor was sucking the soul out of his body.

Fred fell asleep that night clutching his pillow as he imagined you in its place. He wasn’t sure what made the tears roll down his cheeks, but shrugged it off as the alcohol getting to him. He was snivelling, contemplating leaving you a text. He needed you to know how he felt, that he was aching for you to be with him. He didn’t want things to just be staged anymore, there was undeniable chemistry there between you, he felt it in the way you looked at him. Surely it would be better if you were his, he could kiss and hold you all he wanted without the need for press or cameras. You could have a beautiful, normal life together. You were one of the last thoughts on his brain as he drifted off, his grip against the plush pillow only growing tighter out of desperation. 

Waking to the midday sun shining directly into his eyes wasn’t making the pounding headache rattling around in his skull any better. Fred didn’t remember anything about how or when he got home, only recalling the mellow flow of your voice reverberating around his flat. He managed to drag himself from his bed, searching every unorganised cabinet for the sight of even one lonely ibuprofen, sighing as his head fell to rest on the counter with no luck. He realised the grave mistake he had made when his head started thumping, the room spinning and his sight going hazy. Water, he needed hydration.

Two pints of water later, Fred was still feeling the sour effects of last night’s burning liquor, feeling the burn in his chest with every breath, like all the liquid was ready to come right back up at any moment. He sat himself down at the island counter as he pressed the button to replay the voicemail from last night. 

I’m Sorry.

The words wouldn’t leave him, he replayed the voicemail over and over, internalising every single word as it played through the speakers. He sat for hours, sat too long until his feet had gone numb from dangling over the seat. The Great British weather had taken its turn for the worst, a clap of thunder distracting Fred from his thoughts, not knowing how deeply the words were hitting him, until he felt a tear drop against the back of his hand. It was too much for him, realising that he needed to see you, touch you, feel you. 

I’m Sorry

His feet dragged him towards your place, he didn’t care that he’d been walking for miles or that the rain was drenching him to his very core. It was desperation that drove him to find you. It was like a sign to him that one lonely red rose grew from a bush he passed, stopping dead in his tracks before turning around to look at it. He plucked it from the bush, holding it up to his nose, breathing in the scent. Rose petals mixed with the cold drizzle and muggy air sent him over the edge. He was walking quicker now so that he could get to you, pace kicking up into a small jog, his shoes slapping against the wet pavement with each step.

One light shone dimly from the confines of your apartment. Fred stood outside, debating how he was going to approach this conversation. He loved you, wanted you to be his and he struggled in that moment to find the appropriate words to express it. You were towel drying your hair, supposedly from the rain as you came into view by the window. You looked like an angel, a pure piece of heaven on earth and his heart beat faster, beginning to move closer to the flat’s entrance. That’s when he spotted another figure coming into view from the window, face covered by the towel as you dried their hair. Whoever it was, had at least a foot on you height wise, their hands snaking around your waist to pull you tight and close to them.

Fred’s heart sunk, like it had fully fallen out of his ass, seeing you in the arms of another man made his stomach churn, his grip on the rose growing tighter as the thorns pierced his skin. He didn’t even feel the pain, just the emptiness in his chest. He watched as you pulled the towel from the figure’s face.

The messy ginger hair, round cheeks and adoring smile were obvious. Fred knew exactly who he was seeing, he was blinking so hard wishing that it was just a terrible nightmare. As George’s lips connected with yours, it was as if it rumbled Zeus himself, a bolt of lightning illuminating the dark sky. It was like watching his whole world come crashing down, watching you chase his brother’s lips desperately, the same way you had done with him last night. He couldn’t help but watch as the kiss deepened, George using his strength to pick you up, watching your legs wrap around his waist, walking out of sight. 

It was like watching a glimpse of a life he’d never have, the rose fell to the floor, petals breaking off of the stem. Blood was dripping from his hand to the floor, diluted by the rain as it splashed against the stone. Not a single car drove by your house, not one person was outside but Fred in that moment. Loneliness was the only bitter feeling left, it tasted like hell in his mouth, unable to shake the image of you and George together, only hearing two words in his head over and over like a broken record.

I’m Sorry. 

Raindrops danced along Fred’s skin, the soft pitter patter mocking him, everything reminded him of you, even in a moment of heartbreak, the glow of Christmas lights, the thunder or the distant sound of horns beeping at one another, it all reminded him of you in the most ridiculous way. His phone chimed, pulling up the messages he realised that his thoughts had overpowered the importance of the messages.

>> I miss your touch Freddie

>> I can come see you tonight

>> why aren’t you responding Fred?

>> don’t you love me?

‘Maybe this is what I need’ Fred thought, Perhaps he needed the out, the quick fuck to get the aggression out of his system. They say it’s wrong to sleep with your boss, but Cherry wasn’t his boss, she was just the publicist. The publicist you shared. If you could sleep with anyone you wanted, why should he feel guilty about it now? After all, if there was one woman who could help him forget, It would be Cheryl. 

<< sorry, doll

<< of course i love you

<< come see me x

>> I won’t be long, i’m so desperate for you, Freddie x 

It was wrong for him to say that, especially when he didn’t love cherry. Not one ounce of his body felt a connection deeper than just sex. That's all it was to him with Cherry; mindless, carefree sex. Why he kept going back to her like a lost puppy however, was still up for debate. 

Cheryl wasn't an unattractive woman, but she wasn't you. She was taller, accentuated by her constant need to wear heels, not that it mattered much to Fred when he towered above most people he met. She had long blonde hair that was always beach waved and perfectly sun-kissed skin like a Miami model. Fred didn't care too much about superficial looks, but it was undeniable that part of the reason he enjoyed Cherry so much was the way her tits, although obviously fake, would bounce in his face begging to be touched as she sank down onto him or the way her full lips looked as they wrapped around his throbbing cock. Fucking Cheryl from behind was as much fun, he had all the ass he could hold onto before him and a tight cunt that always struggled to take him. 

Reaching his home Cherry was already waiting for him. She spun around as soon as his presence behind her was felt, lips attaching to his immediately. The red lipstick she wore while unique to her, was now being transferred to the man's lips as they kissed. He wasn't disappointed to be kissing someone, it was disappointment that it wasn't you. Your kisses were heaven compared to what he was getting now, he found himself picturing you in his arms and that seemed to work. 

They wasted no time stripping each other's clothes off, Fred was aching to pound his cock into something, even if it had to be Cherry. When the girl tried to straddle him, he grabbed her hips, throwing her against the mattress, causing a giggle to erupt from her lips. "Hands and knees tonight, Doll." 

Being seethed inside Cherry felt amazing. He tried to stretch her out, push as much of himself inside as he could, but she was simply so tight. The pace he set was animalistic, fucking the girl raw against the sheets, he couldn't stand to look at her, closing his eyes and pretending it was the girl he’d been longing for. It wasn't enough, he needed more control. Fred's hand was pushing Cherry's face into the sheets, his thrusts more violent and possessive as he continued fucking her senseless. 

Back at your home, George was seethed all the way inside you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. The way you two fit together was like lock and key, a perfect size for each other. "I'm so deep inside of you princess, can you feel me in your belly?" You were nodding, grabbing his hand to press against your abdomen, his thrusts were slow and purposeful, he was trying to make you cum over and over and over again tonight and you were already waiting for number four. "Yes Georgie, right here, it feels so good when you fill me up." he hummed as he felt the tip of his cock hitting where his hand was pressed with every thrust. His precious girl. All for him. 

Fred was on the edge, skin slapping as he chased his orgasm, Not caring much for Cherry's desperate moans, no matter how good he was making her feel. He wanted her to shut up, it sounded so fake, but he was ready to release, pulling out to let his cum drip over the curve of her ass. He flopped on the bed next to her, immediately feeling her hand on his cock, stroking gently. "You're so good, Freddie, So big." 

She took him into her mouth with ease, it was the only time he could be fully inside of her. His head was back against the mattress as he pictures your soft lips replacing hers. His hand came up to stroke her hair as she continued sucking him off. Try as he might to cum again, he knew it wasn’t your hand on his cock, or your lips. It was another woman, the thought made him sick to his stomach, forcing him to sit bolt upright, pulling himself away from the naked girl on his bed.

“I can’t do this.” he grumbled, grabbing the boxers he had discarded on the floor, pulling them up. Cherry sighed, running a hand through her hair and pulling it over her shoulder, “Do you want me to stay Freddie?” she smiled, playing with the ends of hair as she watched him walk into his bathroom across the hall. “I don’t care.” he spoke plainly, the hurt in his chest hitting him once again as he slammed the door behind him. 

He could still hear the hums and moans you made against his lips. As he leant against the shut door, his hand reached down to start palming himself, feeling himself grow hard again at the thought of you. He was picturing you sprawled out on his bed, begging for him, using your mouth to get him off - He was getting close again as he imagined slamming his hips into you. Just as he reached his peak again, one thought plagued his mind, you moaning his twins name. His heart broke again as he came, sighing as he realised that he was too late. You weren’t his to have.

/// TO BE CONTINUED ///  >>>>>> Chapter Seven

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