#sorry someone asked earlier but I don’t think I ever responded to them

[3v1l-0m3n-0f-d3ath]

Rate your pain

[ddarker-dreams]

Lock I need you to share something about Gojo. Jjk is getting worse with no hope in the future. Plis just a tiny part is god. 🙏🙏🙏🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Detour.

Gojo Satoru x F Reader x Geto Suguru.

Warnings: Mild not SFW implications, Gojo and Geto are Not normal about you, exhibiting possessive behavior. Word count: 1.2k.

-Index-

"—Excuse me, miss!" 

The exclamation barely registers amidst the crowded street's ambiance. Everyone has a destination they're eager to reach, and you're no different. Unlike those native to the area, however, you're more likely to get lost; hence your current conundrum. 

You examine the mess of squiggly lines, blocks, and patterns intended to function as a map. 

Kagurazaka, Kagurazaka... c'mon, I know this one... it starts with the kanji for god or something, right? 

While you scrutinize the map, the same voice from earlier calls out again, this time beside you. You glance around, not wanting to respond if he’s trying to flag down someone else. In doing so, it becomes increasingly obvious that you’re who he’s been trying to grab the attention of. 

From the looks of it, he’s a man in his late thirties, wearing a suit that could use a good ironing. You can’t recall meeting him before. Then again, you’re not privy to everything that happens back on campus. Meetings with influential figures frequently occur without your knowledge. You only ever find out about them later when Satoru loudly voices his critical view on everyone who attended. You are wearing your uniform, it’s recognizable to those in Jujutsu circles. 

You’d rather not stir up a scandal by unintentionally snubbing a Zenin or someone equally important. With this in mind, you politely inquire, “Can I help you?” 

“That uniform… you’re a high schooler, right?” 

You nod, figuring that this confirms your hypothesis. 

“What year?” 

This question makes less sense. Maybe he wants to know your proximity to Suguru, or, far likelier, Satoru. These types always have their own designs for the pride of the Gojo clan. 

“I’m a second-year.” 

“I see, I see,” he begins rummaging through his blazer’s inner pocket. He procures a business card and holds it out. “How about a job? From the looks of it, you’d make a good fit.” 

You blink. 

Are you… allowed to do freelance work? You’ve heard of specific sorcerers being requested for jobs, but that’s always been through the school. Besides, as a Grade Three, you don’t think you can go on unsupervised jobs. Not wanting to seem rude, you reach out to accept the card— 

—Only for it to be intercepted. 

“Sorry, she’s completely booked,” a voice that sounds the furthest thing from apologetic chimes in. 

Gojo Satoru stands to your right, adorned with his circular sunglasses and trademark grin. He rips the card in half without so much as a second thought. You stare at him, incredulous. Questions swarm around your head. When did he get here? How didn’t you notice him until now? Why does his cursed energy have such an unnerving quality to it? 

He bends down and hangs his arm around your shoulder. “You’re somethin’ else. Ignoring Suguru and I’s calls, chatting up strange men in Kabukichō… I swear, we can’t take our eyes off you for a second.” 

“Wh— I’m not chatting anyone up!” You whisper yell. His infinity nullifies enough for you to jab a finger at his chest. “Why can’t you give better directions?! ‘West of the Edo Castle’ doesn’t tell me anything, it just sounds like a TV drama!”

Satoru shrugs. “Should’ve just asked an auxiliary manager to drop you off.” 

“You might treat them like a personal taxi service, but I’d rather not. Taking the train’s fine.” 

The man finally overcomes the shock inflicted by Satoru’s audacity, taking a step forward. “What are you, her boyfriend or something?” 

“Bleh, no!” 

“Future husband.” 

Yours and Satoru’s responses come out simultaneously. 

“In that case—” 

“Excuse me,” A new presence interrupts the increasingly irritated man. Suguru wears a friendly smile which somehow comes across as more menacing than Satoru’s wolfish grin. He places a hand on the man’s shoulder. “You are aware that it’s a minor you’re trying to recruit, correct?” 

The man flushes at the accusation. “Listen, I dunno what you’re trying to accuse me of—” 

“I’d hate to see you get in trouble for a mistake like that,” Suguru cuts him off again, raising his voice ever so slightly. This attracts the attention of some bystanders. “Who knows what consequences that’d result in, especially for a married man like yourself…” 

Huh. You hadn’t even noticed the gold band on his ring finger. Suguru’s nothing if not perceptive. 

Nearby commuters whisper amongst themselves while eyeing the scene. The man’s gaze flits between a self-satisfied Satoru and an overly polite Suguru, eventually settling on an escape route. Wordlessly, he departs, although you swear you overhear him muttering ‘crazy kids’ and ‘doomed girl,’ along the way. 

“Yo, Suguru. Took you long enough.” 

“Unfortunately, not all of us can teleport.” 

“Your curse did a better job at tailin’ me than you.” 

Ignoring the jab, Suguru dusts his hands off while honing in on you. “You alright? You weren’t answering our calls.” 

“And you’re late,” Satoru whines. He helps himself to searching through your purse, taking your pink Razr hostage. “Huh. Battery’s dead.” 

Suguru appears content. “What’d I tell you?” 

“If she’s blocked me before, the same could happen to you.” 

“I wouldn’t block Suguru.” 

“She wouldn't block me.” 

This time, it’s you and Suguru who speak concurrently. Satoru pouts, putting his hands up like he’s under attack (which he probably believes himself to be). You snatch your phone back without issue, unlike when he last stole it. He unblocked himself and dangled it above your head until you promised you wouldn’t do that again.

“And here I was, about to treat you both to pastries,” Satoru sighs, melodramatic as ever. 

“While we were waiting for you, I noticed creampuffs and macaroons on the menu; which would you recommend?” Suguru inquires, not bothering to acknowledge Satoru’s complaints. 

“That depends on what you want from the experience,” you mimic his decision. “Creampuffs tend to be one flavor, whereas macaroons come in multiple, so the variety’s nice. When I get a variety pack, I always end up disliking one of the flavors and wishing I’d just gotten my favorites instead.” 

Satoru sighs as loud as he can. “Right, right, I’m just a walking wallet. Let’s get going before someone else solicits [First].” 

“Eh?” You turn your head to face Satoru. “‘Solicits?’ As in…?” 

“Se—” 

Suguru slaps a hand over Satoru’s mouth. “What he means to say is that this isn’t the best area for a high school girl to linger.”

“W-Wait, hold on! I thought he was like a… er, how would you say that… sorcerer employer?” 

They both stare at you. 

“You do know what Kabukichō’s famous for, right?” Suguru tentatively asks. 

“Hm? ‘Kabuki’ is a type of traditional theater, isn’t it?” 

“...” 

“...” 

“Let’s just show her what we mean,” Satoru bends down, picking up two halves of the business card he split in half earlier. “It’ll be a good lesson. I’d rather not have to come fetch her in this place again— oh.” 

Suguru inspects what has the power to shut Gojo Satoru up. You watch as his eyes move back and forth, his face shifting while he does so. His lips narrow into a thin line when he pulls back. Curious, you stand on your tiptoes, hoping to catch a glimpse yourself. Thankfully, there’s yomigana above some of the kanji you don’t recognize. This eliminates any possibility of you misreading the card’s contents. 

‘Oh’ indeed, you think. That poor guy…

It’s a business card for the company that oversees AKB48. 

[thef1diary]

Baby Jr | Three

— Salacious Daydreaming

Series Masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work.

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

warnings: 18+ smut, bj, allusions to unprotected sex (don’t do that)

wc: 3.1k

You were the only one remaining in the meeting room, taking down last-minute notes, when you heard someone step in and close the door, drawing your attention to them. It was Carlos.

With a swift stride, he approached you, yanking your chair away from the table. He tilted your chin upwards, and placed his lips on yours. You didn't have time to say anything; only a gasp escaped your lips before your eyes closed and you instinctively wrapped your arms around him. While you remained seated in the chair, his own palms moved down your sides and he tightened his hold around your waist before lifting you up.

Carlos' lips remained on yours, claiming each gasp and moan that left your mouth, muffling the sounds for any potential listeners outside. Briefly losing yourself amidst his kisses, you were startled by the clattering sounds of the items falling to the ground that were once on the table. Carlos cleared your belongings to make room on the table before setting you down on it.

He pecked your lips again and then began to back away, causing a whine to escape your mouth. Your palms immediately clasped his cheeks, luring him in for another kiss. He chuckled at your antics, but still followed along. Attaching your lips together until you lost your breath to the point of potential dizziness, yet you would gladly give it up again and again just to become intoxicated by his kisses.

Carlos kneeled down in front of you, causing you to instantly spread your legs, placing one foot on the table's edge while your palm tangled in his hair.

You wrinkled your brows, unable to hear a word that came out of his mouth as he gazed up at you and said something. Then, you heard your name, but it wasn't spoken by Carlos.

You quickly blinked a few times after feeling a palm shake you by your shoulder and you realized that you weren't in a conference room with Carlos but rather with your regular media team amidst a meeting. You were thinking about Carlos even though he wasn't physically there.

"Sorry, can you repeat that?" you asked and scanned over everyone for a brief moment, not knowing who actually spoke.

"Are you feeling alright?" One of your closest colleagues, Ava, asked instead.

You nodded, refraining from responding verbally while clenching your thighs together. Your cheeks had heated up in shame over having zoned out in the middle of the conference for the first time ever, but also due to the specific scenario you were envisioning in your daydream.

The meeting resumed as normal, with another member repeating her words from earlier.

"As I was saying..."

You tried to focus on her words, but your gaze focused on Carlos who was walking alongside Charles just outside of the room.

You believed that he could feel your gaze because he stopped walking and looked through the glass doors, easily spotting you inside. You were no longer paying attention to the meeting as soon as he made direct eye contact with you.

He raised his brows in question, wanting to know the thoughts running through your mind while sitting in a meeting, especially since your gaze on him remained unwavering. The corner of his lips turned up in a smirk, a little egotistical once he realized that all your attention was for him and only him.

Charles' didn't notice the little staring contest going on between you and Carlos since he was still sharing the latest piece of gossip he had heard earlier from Pierre. Similar to you, nothing that left his mouth was heard by Carlos.

His attention remained on you, disregarding his teammate completely. Carlos winked after he gently jerked his head in the direction of the corridor from which he had come, trying to communicate nonverbally.

In response, you furrowed your eyebrows briefly before raising them in confusion. He playfully rolled his eyes, and glanced at Charles to check if he was paying attention but saw him smiling while texting on his phone.

Again, rolling his eyes at his teammates' antics, Carlos looked at you. This time, he pointed his finger at you, then beckoned you to come closer.

Your eyes widened and you began shaking your head before stopping and thinking about the possible consequences of leaving a meeting in the middle, something you had never done before.

Fortunately, no one was sitting across from you which meant you had a clear view of Carlos. However, Ava was sitting next to you, which meant that she also had a clear view of Carlos.

She watched the silent conversation you attempted to have with him but she didn't understand a single thing. Instead, she nudged you again, quickly gaining your attention this time.

"What's going on?" She asked, her gaze moving between you and Carlos.

"Nothing, why?" You were tempted to shift your sight back towards Carlos, but didn't want to bring unwanted attention from anyone else.

"You don't look well, are you sure you're fine?" Ava muttered quietly enough, leaning closer towards you.

Resting your head against her shoulder, you sighed. This was the perfect moment to leave considering you also had a proper excuse, and you were beginning to contemplate it.

Your decision was made once you saw Carlos, in your peripheral vision, leaning against the wall outside the door by himself, waiting for you.

"Maybe I don't feel too well," you whispered. Lifting your head, you looked at Ava, "do you think I could leave?"

"Maybe she'll let it go, since you never left abruptly like this," she shrugged. You turned to look at Silvia, your supervisor, who was in charge of the meeting. You didn't even pay attention to when the slideshow presentation she was delivering began, so as you saw it, your eyes widened.

You realized Ava wasn't incorrect after giving her words some thought. She was unaware, though, that you were merely lying to her about your health and that Carlos was the true reason you wanted to leave. The fact that the conference was boring didn't make matters any better.

"Any questions before we continue?" Silvia's voice cut through your thoughts. She gazed at everyone one by one. Once her gaze landed on you, you fanned yourself exaggeratedly and pointed at the door.

Although she furrowed her brows for a moment since she couldn't see out the door from her standpoint, she nodded, allowing you to leave.

Nodding your head in acknowledgement, you began gathering your items to leave. "I'll come check on you later and give you the rundown of the entire meeting," Ava stated.

"The entire meeting? I was here for at least half of it," you muttered back a response, trying to remain quiet since the meeting continued.

"You were barely focused, now go before you distract me too."

However, as soon as you left the conference room, Carlos was nowhere to be seen. Shaking your head at his antics, you began walking down the hallway he pointed at earlier.

Once you reached the end of the hallway, a hand pulled you over to the right; Carlos. He pressed you against the wall, caging you in between as his hands rested flat beside your head.

"Hi," he muttered, his gaze always watchful, but a tad bit softer this time as he admired you.

With your lips turning up in a smile, you pressed your hands against his chest but without any intent to push him away. "You're crazy," you responded, watching how his eyes twinkled with delight.

"Me? You're the one who left in the middle of the meeting," he shot back, making you drop your jaw with a gasp.

"And who's fault is that?"

He pressed his lips together to prevent a smile, tilting his head to the side. "Are you saying that you left because of me?"

"Not at all, it was boring anyways," you replied, biting your tongue at the brief exposure of your thoughts that your words revealed.

He nodded, "no." You knew he didn't believe you at all, but you still smiled, not really wanting him to believe you either.

"You were standing outside like a freak, how could I not be distracted?" You reasoned, earing raised eyebrows from him.

"I don't blame you, I'm quite the view to look at," he spoke with a chuckle.

You slapped his shoulder playfully, "why'd you call me out anyways?"

He smirked, "as if you don't know why." Dropping one hand from the wall, he wrapped it around your waist, pulling you closer. "I want you," he added.

"You had me a few hours ago."

He dropped his head against your shoulder, sighing. You chuckled, knowing that you wouldn't deny him, especially as you were the one dreaming about him midday, but you simply wanted to spark a reaction out of him.

Ever since that one night you spent together in your hotel room, those daydreams of yours came more often. And, as it turned out, that one night spent together didn't remain as only one night. A lot of the following nights—even days—were spent in each other's hotel rooms, or his driver's room.

Once the restraint between you snapped that night, you began craving him constantly, and it didn't help that the chemistry you shared with him continued blooming. Neither of you planned on slowing down, avariciously relishing each intimate minute spent together. However, the more time you spent together, the excitement of ignoring the repercussions started to seep into your skin and only continued to fuel your desire.

You felt his lips graze your neck, lightly at first but then with more prominent kisses. You lightly gasped when he kissed and sucked at the spot behind your ear.

Before your mind filtered out all thoughts except of him and only him, you patted his shoulder. "Carlos."

He hummed to acknowledge you but didn't relent.

"Not here," you mumbled.

Even if you were in one of the enclosed hallways where people rarely passed, you would be visible if someone were to go by.

He lifted his head, looking at you with a fond smile, "then where?"

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but the smile on your face told a different story. "As if you don't know where," you imitated his words from earlier.

Stepping away from you, he exaggerated a bow, "well then lead the way, cariño."

Heading to his driver's room together, you chuckled and moved ahead of him. When you turned to look behind you and saw his eyes fixed on your ass, your suspicions about why he had asked you to walk in front of him were confirmed.

You were compelled to walk quickly because of the heat in his eyes, wanting to hide from potential bystanders and enjoy each other in private.

He followed you inside the room, closing the door behind. You stopped once you were standing in the middle of the room, glancing back and waiting for him to approach you.

Moments later you felt the heat of his body radiating towards you. His fingers skimmed over your sides, following your natural curves.

"I was wondering," he began, earning a hum from you, urging him to continue. "Did you miss me? Is that why you agreed so easily when I called you out?"

For a brief moment, you stopped, and Carlos sensed the tension entering your body. You turned to face him as he put his palms against your hips.

He moved his palm to your cheek, cradling it with such utmost care that all the tension dissipated into thin air. You scoffed at his question, a teasing smile making its way to your face.

"I didn't miss you." You trailed your fingers down his chest with your gaze following your movements.

Teasing the hem of his shirt, your fingers slipped underneath for a moment before hooking onto the waistband of his trousers. With your hands still moving lower, your eyes focused on his face. The corner of your lips turned up in a smirk once you saw his gaze unwavering from your hand.

The mere feeling of your fingers sliding up his clothed length already had him throbbing for the feel of your warm mouth wrapped around him.

The hand that had been on your cheek shifted to the back of your neck, drawing you in. By applying more pressure to his bulge and trying to wrap your hand as much as possible with the fabric in between, Carlos' jaw fell open.

"If you missed it that much, get down on your knees and suck it then," he muttered against your lips, grazing them but not kissing you just yet.

He dropped his hands from your body, but as soon as he did, he itched to touch you again.

You hummed, pretending to contemplate it for a moment even though you had already made your decision. "Say please."

He licked his lips, immediately drawing your attention to the motion. Your hand remained still on his crotch, and he knew you could feel his cock pulsing beneath the heat of your palm, longing for a satisfactory touch.

You would give him everything he wanted, all he had to do was ask.

Carlos whispered your name, hanging on to each syllable with such longing, and you almost gave in. When you didn't budge, he spoke your name with more assurance, then added, "please."

You pressed a peck to his cheek, "as you wish, darling."

You tugged his trousers down by hooking your fingers into the waistband. You were as eager as he was, but he lacked the restraint to hide how much he desired you.

You locked your gaze with his, unwavering even as you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. You couldn't help but tease him a little more as you pressed open mouthed kisses over his clothed cock, now only his boxers remaining as a barrier.

He groaned, "c'mon baby, you look so pretty on your knees for me."

You chuckled, finally giving in because if you continued teasing him, it would be torture for you too considering you've already soaked through your panties while sitting in the meeting earlier. You've missed the weight of his cock in your hands, even if the last time you held it was only a few hours ago in this very room.

Discarding the last piece of clothing, you held his hardened length in your hand. Gathering a bit of saliva in your mouth, you stuck your tongue out and drooled over the tip, spreading it with your palm.

He attempted to keep his gaze fixed on you, watching as you lavished much-needed attention on him, but he failed and closed his eyes as you licked his cock from the base to the tip. In a steady manner, you ran your hand up and down the length while swirling your tongue around the tip. 

You placed the weight of his cock flat on your tongue before hollowing your cheeks out and sealing your lips around him. Taking him as deep as you could, you quickly felt his tip hit the back of your throat.

Your eyes quickly watered as you felt Carlos rest his hand on the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair before holding it up in a ponytail.

"I know you can take more than that, cariño." He didn't urge you forward, but you placed your free hand on top of his that was resting in your hair, silently allowing him to do it.

Once you slid your hand away, his other hand rested on your jaw, stilling you as he began to thrust his hips, moving his cock in and out of the warmth of your mouth.

The obscene sounds of you gagging on his cock were joined by his groans and praises. His sweet words made you place your palm between your legs, over your clothed pussy, slowly grinding down on it to relieve some pressure.

With a few warnings from him and a couple thrusts later, his hot cum filled your mouth, seeping down your throat and dripping down your chin as he pulled back. You were still on your knees, and that's when he noticed your hand between your own legs.

He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth, watching as you frustratingly continued grinding down on your hand, while you used your other hand and swiped your fingers through his cum dribbling down your chin before licking it off with your tongue.

"Let me make you feel good," Carlos said, reaching his hand out to lift you up as you stood up.

Briefly scanning the room, he decided to sit on the couch with you in his lap. His gaze passed over the massage table in the back of the room, and he made the mental note to remember it for the next time you found yourself in his driver's room.

Amongst giggles, praises, and kisses, you used Carlos' skillful hands and cock to bring yourself over the edge twice.

The day turned to evening by the time you stood with him just by the door before leaving. This time of day, there weren't many team members in the motorhome, but you should have guessed that Carlos' teammate would be close by.

Charles spotted you as he left his own driver's room on the opposite side, greeting you and Carlos.

"You're here? Ava was looking for you earlier, and said you weren't feeling well." You glanced at Carlos, who was attempting to hide a teasing smile behind his palm and if Charles wasn't standing right there, you would've smacked the Spaniard.

"Oh, was she? I didn't know." You remembered that she promised to visit you after the meeting was over, but you had forgotten that fact when you were on your knees for Carlos.

"Are you feeling better now?" Charles questioned, and you were relieved that he remained oblivious to the predicament that was right in front of him. Particularly when you and Carlos gradually started to undervalue the significance of maintaining the secrecy of your newfound situationship.

You nodded, but before you could verbally respond, Carlos replied, "trust me, mate, she's feeling much better."

"I think I should go find Ava," you stated, muttering goodbyes before parting away from the Ferrari drivers. You looked back at Carlos with widened eyes, shaking your head at his antics. He simply chuckled, then immersed himself in a conversation with Charles.

He wasn't wrong, however, you were in fact feeling much better than before. As you walked away, you could feel his cum leaking out of your pussy, staining your work trousers since Carlos had ripped your panties to shreds.

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[puckinghischier]

Bouy

nico hischier x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

summary: reader gets dragged to the bar by jack to meet all of his teammates, but finds herself drawn to a certain swiss captain

notes: part 2 to locksmith!! probably some inaccuracies about various player’s personalities, but all in the name of entertainment, right? i didn’t proofread either, oops. don’t know if i’m happy with how this turned out but here it is nonetheless. hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼

part 1, part 3, part 4

[4.6k]

~

The bar that Jack picked is surprisingly busy for a week night. It’s not overcrowded, but it’s busy enough to where you’re having to hold on to the back of his shirt so you don’t lose him. He leads the two of you over to a set of tables tucked away at the back of the bar. Jack is greeted with shouts and hugs as you drop your grip on him and simply stand back, letting him have his moment. You recognize a few of the faces, no names coming to mind, but most of the faces you’ve never seen before. You should know the names and faces of who you’re assuming are Jack’s teammates, but the truth is, despite your relationship with the Hughes family, you’ve never been one to follow hockey very closely. You don’t come from an area where hockey is a big deal, and though you understand the logistics of the game and you’ve traveled to watch all three brothers in some of their biggest games pre-NHL, your knowledge of the league’s players pretty much begins and ends with Jack, Luke, and Quinn.

“Long time no see, hallway sleeper,” you’re pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice in your ear. You turn to see Nico, no hat this time, soft, brown hair on full display. He was still wearing a white t-shirt, only his sweats have been swapped for jeans this time.

“Long time no see, locksmith.”

Nico laughs, and for the second time today you allow yourself to think about how lovely the sound is. “You know, all in a day’s work.”

“Sounds like someone really should have a conversation with the big heads at the NHL. Their poor players work so hard, only to have to pick up second jobs on their off days in order to pay the bills. Shame on them,” you joke.

“I know! Maybe it’s time I go on strike, put my full attention to helping pretty girls break into their apartments full time,” he responds, a small blush forming on your cheeks.

“Well I don’t know about all that, I need my own personal locksmith on call at all times. You can’t abandon me in my time of need!”

“Wouldn’t ever dream of it,” Nico places his hand over his chest, feigning offense. You glance over his shoulder, eyeing the bar, thinking about the vodka cranberry that’s calling your name. He turns and follows your eyes. “Did you want to go get something to drink-“

“Neeks!! What’s up man! We missed you today!” Jack cuts Nico off as he turns around, sticking a hand out in-between himself and his captain. “The kids were asking where you were, you totally have to come with us next time!”

“Yeah, man. Next time, for sure. Just needed a rest day, y’know?” Nico responds, slapping Jack’s outstretched hand.

The two begin their own conversation about the charity skate while you stand in the background. You know Jack isn’t ignoring you on purpose, but you’re getting a little tired of just standing around, deciding that you need that drink sooner than later to loosen yourself up a bit and prepare yourself for the endless stream of socializing you know is about to come your way.

“Hey, J, I’m gonna get a drink, okay? I’ll be right back,” you interrupt the conversation, knowing Jack would be worried if he looked up and you were nowhere to be found.

“Oh shit, Y/N I’m so sorry, I totally forgot to introduce you to everyone. Neeks, this is Y/N, Y/N, Nico.”

“Yeah, we met earlier. When you decided to lock the door on your way out this morning and Nico seems to be the only person with a spare key to the place,” you deadpan, watching a confused look glaze over Jack’s features.

“I left the door unlocked, I swear! I even double checked as I was leaving, because Lu-“ Jack suddenly pauses. “Luke must have locked it when he went to grab his beanie he forgot. I’m so sorry, Bouy,” Jack apologizes, letting the nickname he gave you when you were kids slip out of his mouth.

“Bouy?” you hear Nico’s confusion, looking between the two of you, clearly confused.

“We’re not even going there right now, just a stupid nickname from one summer as a kid, not even important. What is important is that I get a drink, ASAP,” you say, once again trying to make your way to the bar.

You walk away from the two men, sights set on an empty spot near the end of the bar. Admittedly, getting a drink seemed way easier in theory than in execution, because no matter how hard you tried, you cannot get the attention of the bartender. You’ve tried waving, yelling, and following her as she makes her way down the line of patrons, but to no avail. You give up with a huff, turning around and leaning your back against the bar, trying to brainstorm how to get a drink in your hand sooner rather than later. “What if I just go take someone’s drink, what would they do then?” you speak aloud to no one other than yourself.

“I would advise against that. Who knows what concoctions some of these people are drinking.”

You whip your head around to find no other than Nico himself standing to your left. You begin to think him sneaking up on people is a habit of his, seeing as this is the second time he’s both surprised you and caught you talking to yourself today.

“You’ve got to stop sneaking up on me, Jesus.”

“Sorry. You just seemed so lost in that head of yours. I’d ask you what you’re thinking, but I’ve learned if I stand here long enough you’ll just say it out loud,” Nico jabs, amusement once again present in his brown eyes. It seems that’s a common occurrence whenever you’re in his presence.

“If you think I speak my mind now, just wait until I actually get a few drinks in me. You’ll be begging me to shut up,” you joke, turning slightly to see if the bartender is anywhere near your area.

“How about we test the theory. Need help?” he asks, challenging your words.

“I mean, be my guest, but I’ve been trying for what seems like forever,” you grumble, moving over slightly to make room for him at the bar.

You watch him stick his hand out, the bartender almost immediately looking over and nodding, signaling she’ll be right over. Your jaw drops. You were a little pissed, honestly. How in the hell did he just do that? You turn your head to look at him, eyes narrowed.

“How in the hell did you just do that?” your mouth mirrors your thoughts.

“Oh y’know, I have my ways,” he says, eyes twinkling, smirk on his lips.

“No, I demand to know. There’s no way I’ve been standing up here for the better part of fifteen minutes with not even a glance in my direction, yet all you have to do is stick your hand out two inches from your face and suddenly you’re next in line,” you spit out, your tone showing your frustration at the situation.

Nico opens his mouth to respond, but a voice from the other side of the bar sounds before he can get a word out.

“Hey, Neeks, what can I get for ya? Your usual?” the woman serving drinks asks, using the same nickname Jack calls Nico.

“Nah, just a Michelob for me tonight. Got morning skate tomorrow,” he tells her, seeming familiar with the woman. She turns to you, giving you the opportunity to really look at the girl. She was short, but not shorter than yourself. She had platinum blonde hair that was tied back into a high ponytail, a pen stuck right through the middle of it. She was wearing a bright green cropped tank top with black leggings. Her make-up was the perfect combination of natural, yet bold. She was….really fucking pretty. Like, intimidatingly pretty. The kind of girl that would make even the most confident of women feel slightly insecure, to no fault of her own.

“Is that all or…?” she trailed off, looking at you expectantly.

“Can I just get a vodka cranberry? Double?” you asked, suddenly regretting your decision to not even wear make-up tonight.

You hear her scoff through a “Of course, coming right up,” before looking at Nico once again, then hurrying off to grab Nico’s beer and your cocktail.

“Is there something wrong with a vodka cran up here? Why the attitude?” you spit out, annoyed that she clearly found an issue with your choice of drink.

“You just have to ignore Jess, she’s a bit of an alcohol snob. Thinks everyone should drink top shelf or not even bother drinking at all,” Nico gives you the girl’s name.

You were going to respond to the fact that the two are on a first name basis, but your drinks arrived before you had the chance. You looked up to thank the girl, Jess as you now know, but shut your mouth when you saw the exchange happening before you.

“Just add it to my tab, Jess. Both of them,” Nico tells her, grabbing the bottle of Michelob sitting in front of him.

“Sure thing, Neeks. If you need anything else just give me a shout. You know where to find me,” Jess lets her hand linger, briefly brushing against Nico’s. You look up to her face, seeing the sultry look in her eyes, her chin slightly dropped. She’s looking at Nico like he’s a meal and she hasn’t eaten in days. Glancing over at the man standing next to you, you notice his entire face is flushed red, up to the tips of his ears.

Your brows shoot up in both surprise and understanding. These two have slept together! Her actions a dead giveaway, albeit subtle. Girls recognize girls, you know? It surely explains why he was so quick to get her attention when you couldn’t even get so much as a glance. You’re fighting against every single muscle in your face to not break out into laughter, finding this amusing for some reason.

“Yeah, gotcha. Thanks, Jess,” Nico replies to the girl, stepping back a few inches from the bar.

You turn and follow him in the direction of the tables from earlier, trying your hardest to not get lost in the crowd of bodies you’re having to weave through.

“So, you didn’t tell me that all I had to do to get the bartender’s attention was sleep with her,” you said, stopping Nico in his tracks.

He turns to look at you, eyes wide and face red, seeming a little embarrassed. You worry you’ve already stuck your foot in your mouth much too early into the night.

“How did you- What makes you think-“ he fumbles over his words.

“I’m a girl, silly. I know when another girl is giving a man the ‘you gave me one of the best nights of my life and I want to do you again’ eyes. Nothing to be ashamed of, she’s gorgeous,” you interrupt, amused at his embarrassment.

You actually think its kind of sweet he seems embarrassed. You half expected him to meet your comments with a smirk and puff his chest out a bit, proud that he’d scored such a beautiful woman, but he’s not. You’ve met plenty of Jack’s previous teammates over the years, most of them cocky assholes that care about nothing more than who they can sleep with next. Never missing the chance to boast to all of his buddies about the blonde chick he managed to sneak into his room last night.

Nico’s response was the complete opposite of that. He almost recoiled at your words, looking like he wanted to crawl under the nearest table he could find and hide there until the end of the night. It’s a refreshing contrast to what you’re used to. You start to feel a little bad for even bringing it up.

Nico stands still, staring at you like he’d rather be anywhere else at the moment, beer forgotten in his hand. You can see the wheels turning in his head on how he’s going to get out of this situation. “Hey, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s none of my business. I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just used to Jack’s other friends that never shut up about who they sleep with. My filter has a few holes in it I need to patch up I guess. I haven’t even had a drink and I’m already sticking my foot in my mouth-“

“I haven’t slept with her.”

Your mouth snaps shut mid-sentence. You stare at the man in front of you, noticing how he keeps fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable. He keeps shifting his weight from foot to foot, switching his beer from left to right to run whichever hand is free through his hair. His eyes keep darting anywhere but your face, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

“Well if you haven’t then she sure wants to,” you try to backtrack a bit, hoping you can humor your way out of the mess you walked yourself into.

“Yeah, I’m sure she does. Just like she wants to sleep with the rest of the team,” he scoffs out. “Don’t get me wrong, Jess is nice and all, but she hits on all of us. It’s worked on a few of the guys. I’ve seen her drop a few of them off at practice in the mornings, but she never lets it go farther than that. Some of the guys prefer…arrangements like that, but it’s not really my style,” Nico replies, shocking you with his sudden honesty.

“I find it hard to believe that beautiful blondes aren’t your type, but I’ll let it slide for now,” you narrow your eyes, not sure how else to respond to his unexpected candor.

“It seems that my type is talkative strangers, but I’ll let you know if it changes,” Nico tells you with a smirk, his shift in personality giving you whiplash as he walks off without another word.

———————————————————————————

“So, where exactly are you from, Y/N?” you get asked for the fourth time in about 5 minutes from the man sitting to your right. You can’t exactly remember his name, only that he’s drank about 4 beers in the time you’ve been sitting here. Considering Jack went down the line and literally rapid fired names at you once you returned to the tables, you forgive yourself for not remembering.

“Dawson, she already told you three times, dude. She’s from Tennessee!” the man to your left shouts across you a little too loudly. You flinch a bit at just how loud these guys can be, having been shuffled around from conversation to conversation for the past hour, each man reaching a volume you didn’t know was humanly possible.

Jack will come by whatever table you’re currently at about every 30 minutes and tug you in whatever direction he sees fit, going on and on about how you just HAVE to meet so and so because they’ll love you. You love that he’s trying to include you and integrate you into the group dynamic the team has going on, but you really wish he would just let you mingle on your own.

His teammates have been nothing but welcoming and kind, but most of them are more than a few drinks deep and have been talking about whatever upcoming game they have and what strategies they need to improve on, leaving you left out and unable to add anything to the conversation.

“Virginia, actually. But close! I lived right on the border of Tennessee and Virginia, so it’s almost like I’m from both,” you shout back, explaining your origin…again.

“Wait, Virginia and Tennessee border each other?” Mr. four beers questions, Dawson you’ve just learned.

“Mercer you idiot, of course they border each other. Have you ever even looked at a fucking map?” the man to your left responds, reaching behind you and slapping Dawson on the back of the head.

“Ow! I’m from Canada, Johnny! How am I supposed to know? Do you know what Canadian states border one another?” Dawson fires back at the man to your left, Johnny.

“Provinces.”

“What?”

“Canada has provinces, not states, Dawson,” Johnny says, a blank look on his face as he stares at Dawson.

“Fuck you. And your Harvard degree,” Dawson crosses his arms and puffs up like a kid. It’s amusing really, watching the two bicker like siblings.

As the two continue to go back and forth, you can’t help but let your eyes wander around the bar, searching for a pair of brown ones. You haven’t spoken to Nico since he walked away from you earlier, after he all but told you that you were his type. His words took you by surprise, having only known the man for a few hours. You can’t lie and say you didn’t find him attractive from the moment you saw him standing in his doorway this morning, but you can’t let yourself go there, can you? You’ve been in the city less than twenty-four hours. You haven’t even fully unpacked all of your clothes yet, and here you are, unable to get your best friend’s captain off of your mind.

Just as you try to shake the thoughts running through your head, a pair of eyes find yours, causing you to sit up a little straighter. He’s standing at a table with Jack and a man that you remember to be named Timo. He’s Swiss, too, you learned when Jack introduced the two of you. He told you that he and Nico played together before they both found themselves with the Devils, the pair having hockey history.

Nico glances away, only briefly, before finding your eyes again, noticing the two men arguing on either side of you. He raises his eyebrow, as if asking you if you need help, but you just shrug and give a little half smile, rolling your eyes as if to say ‘boys, right?’. He lets out a chuckle, his shoulders shaking slightly. You see him exchange a few words with Jack and Timo before stepping away from the table, walking in the direction of the table you’re sitting at.

Just as Nico is only a few steps away, you feel your phone buzzing from where its laying on your thigh. You look at the screen, your mother’s name flashing across the screen. Realizing you hadn’t called her since your plane landed earlier in the day, you decide you should probably take the call.

“Sorry, guys, I gotta take this call,” you slide out from in-between the two hockey players, still arguing away. They don’t even notice your departure, too lost in discussing geography.

You look over to see Nico stop in his tracks, a confused look on his face. You hold up your phone and point to the screen, mouthing the word ‘mom’ before walking over to a secluded corner of the bar for some quiet.

“Hey, mom. Sorry I forgot to call earlier. It’s been a long day,” you sigh, leaning against the cool brick wall.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. I just wanted to see how you were settling in. See how the boys were,” she pauses. “Where are you? What’s all that noise in the background?” she questions, slight concern in her voice.

“You know Jack, he wanted to come out and ‘celebrate’ the fact that I live in Jersey now. Tried to get out of it, but Jack never misses a chance to go out. Still have a ton of unpacking to do. I hope to have it all done before too long, though.”

“I should’ve known Jack would be ready to party as soon as you got there. You were always his favorite tag along,” she chuckles, referencing all the time Jack would drag you to various outings and events during the summer.

“Yeah, well this tag along is ready to make her way to her bed for the night, but I have to drive Jack home, so I’ll probably still be here awhile.”

“Honey just tell him you’re ready to go home. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Nah, I can wait it out a little bit longer. He’s too busy introducing me to everyone. He was so excited for me to meet his teammates,” you quickly glance towards where Jack stands. “You’d think I was some local celebrity or something the way he’s been shuffling me from table to table for meet and greets,” you laugh into the phone.

“He’s just happy to have you around again, sweetheart. I know how much you missed him, I’m sure he missed you just as much. He’s just trying to make sure you’re included.”

“I know, I know. It’s sweet, really, I just wish he would’ve let me have a few days before throwing me into a group of drunk hockey players, as usual,” you tell your mom, trying not to sound ungrateful. You do appreciate how eager Jack is to have all his friends meet you, but you’re growing sleepier by the minute.

“Welcome to life with Rowdy…again,” your mom laughs, using Jack’s childhood nickname.

“At least it’s sure to be an interesting one,” you reply, causing her laugh to grow. “Alright, momma, I better go before Jack comes looking for me. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? I love you,” you say, looking over towards Jack’s table, watching him look around, likely noticing your absence.

“Alright, honey. I love you!” she says, hanging up the phone.

You lean your head back against the wall, closing your eyes for a second and taking a deep breath before returning to the chaos of bodies across the room.

“Did Dawson and Johnny really make that bad of a first impression that you’re hiding in a dark corner?”

Yet again, you jump at the voice that seems to be following you around today. You raise your head up and open your eyes, Nico standing a few feet away from you. You simply close your eyes once again and lay your head back against the wall once more, needing another minute to collect yourself.

“You know, I think I’m going to buy you some of those shoes with squeakers in them, that way I can always know when you’re coming,” you tell him, enjoying the feeling of the cool concrete against your head.

All you hear in response is a laugh, which has you raising your head to look at Nico again. You admire the way he scrunches his nose when he laughs, already thinking about how you can coax the sound out of him again.

“Where’s the fun in that now…Bouy, was it?” he recalls your nickname from earlier, earning a glare from you.

“Don’t you even start,” you warn.

“You’re really not going to tell me why Jack called you that? I’ve been trying to get the story out of him for the past two hours. He won’t budge, saying only you can tell it.”

“Trust me, it’s not even worth your time. I don’t even understand why the nickname stuck. They’re all stupid, the lot of them,” you shut down the request.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pry it out of you one day. I’ll solve the Bouy mystery eventually,” Nico persists, not letting the subject drop that easily.

You remove yourself from the wall, sliding your phone into your back pocket. You run your hand through your hair with a huff, preparing yourself to join the others once again.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. My mom called, so I figured I’d better take it. A little tired, but I’m all good. Just hope Jack tires out sooner rather than later,” you shrug your shoulders.

“I can give him a ride home if you want to leave? I don’t mind, really. Not like it’s exactly out of the way,” Nico offers.

“No, I should stay. He was really excited for me to meet everyone tonight so I feel like I should at least stay a little bit longer. I don’t want to bail on him this soon.”

“Trust me, if it was up to Jack he wouldn’t leave until they kicked him out,” Nico states, nothing but seriousness in his tone.

“Well, we don’t call him Rowdy for nothing,” you joke. “Speaking of, we’ve been spotted,” you notice Jack making his way over to where the two of you stand.

“Hey, everything alright? I couldn’t find you and Timo said he saw you come over here awhile ago, then said he saw Nico come over here too. You okay?” Jack says as he approaches, glancing towards Nico before looking at you, concern in his tone and on his face.

“No, yeah, I’m fine. Mom called and I came over here so I could hear her better, then Nico came to check on me. We were about to come join everyone again, I was just enjoying the quiet for another minute,” you tell Jack, watching the worry fall from his face.

“Oh tell momma Y/L/N that her favorite surrogate son misses her,” Jack brightens at the mention of your mom, both of you viewing the other’s parents as a second set, just as close to them as you were your own.

“I will when she calls tomorrow,” you chuckle, knowing your mom will get a kick out of this conversation.

“I actually came over here to see if you were ready to go? We have morning skate tomorrow and Luke just texted me asking when we were coming home, which usually means he’s lonely and feeling left out, so we should probably get going,” Jack says, surprising you by granting your earlier wishes.

“Oh my god yes, please. I’m so tired,” you sigh, letting your shoulders slump, relieved that you’re only a few minutes away from climbing in your bed.

“I thought so, you looked like you were having a grand time with Dawson and Johnny,” Jack laughs, recalling your earlier position between the two geography enthusiasts.

“They were literally yelling at each other about the geography of the U.S. and Canada,” you told the two men standing with you, both of them breaking out into laughter.

“That’s nothing. Once they argued for a full two hours on if pterodactyl was spelled with a p or not,” Nico adds in, having been silent until now, causing you to be the one filled with laughter.

Jack looks over, seeming to just now remember Nico was also standing with the two of you.

“You need a ride home, cap?” Jack offers, looking over at you with suspicious eyes before looking back at Nico.

“Nah, I’ve only had two beers. I’m good to drive. Plus, I should probably make sure Dawson gets home and in bed. He’s going to regret all those tequila shots when we have to be on the ice at eight tomorrow morning.”

“Exactly why I’m tapping out now. Be careful, Neeks. See you at practice,” Jack tells his captain before turning to you. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

“Like it’s a hot summer day.”

Jack smiles, the phrase becoming a trademark of yours over the years. You don’t even remember what started it, just that it’s become the signature end to many nights of fun for the two of you. He turns to walk away and you go to follow him before you realized you didn’t say goodbye to Nico. Not wanting to feel rude, you turn around to say your goodbyes to the captain.

“Goodnight, Nico. Have a good practice tomorrow.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, Bouy,” he responds, a shit-eating grin breaking out on his face.

Fuck you, Jack Hughes.

[bubblegump-1-nk]

It Hurts Me

pairing: Theodore Nott x female!reader

summary: In which you’re dating Adrian Pucey but your relationship is anything but healthy. Theo wishes you could see what’s right in front of you - songs: It Hurts Me by Elvis Presley and He Could Never Love You by Henry Morris and Playyar

Warnings: toxic and abusive relationships

- I’m sosososo sorry it has taken me so long to post. I’ve just been pretty lazy recently but I’m back(kinda)!! Also, implied Gryffindor reader but I don’t think I ever specified what house she’s in.

~~~

Theo was sitting at the Slytherin table for dinner. His friends chatting around him as he ate his mashed potatoes.

“It was completely unfair!” Complained Enzo, explaining how the red card call against him in the most recent quidditch match was uncalled for.

“Enzo, you grabbed Rais by the neck and threw him off his broom. It was completely fair.” Says Daphne, causing Enzo to roll his eyes and focus on his plate of food.

“Look,” says Pansy, elbowing Daphne lightly to get her attention. “They’ve been fighting again.” She says.

Theo follows their gaze, and sees you entering the Great Hall. Your eyes are bloodshot red and puffy. Mascara running slightly beneath your eyes. Theo clenches his fists at the sight of you. He can’t believe your still with that git Adrian Pucey.

“What do you think it was about this time?” Theo asks, still looking at you as you make your way over to the Gryffindor table.

“I heard them in the hallway earlier. Something about her school uniform.” Says Draco in between bites of food.

“What?! He’s angry about her goddamn school uniform?” Theo proclaims, astonished at how idiotic your stupid boyfriend is.

“Yeah, it’s too tight or something.” Draco explains.

Theo’s about to say something else, when Adrian walks into the dining hall.

His hair is messy, and his face is stoic yet his eyes are still furious. Every time Theo sees him he wonders how a girl as sweet and perfect as you could be in a relationship with a git like him.

“How long have they been together?” Mattheo asks, more quietly this time.

“About 6 months, I think.” Says Pansy.

Theo pushes his plate away, his appetite gone from thinking too much about you with someone else.

“I’m going to bed.” He says, getting up and leaving before anyone can ask any questions.

~~~

“Y/n, I seriously don’t understand why you’re still with him.” Hermione states, as you walk back to the common room.

“It’s complicated Hermione. He’s so good to me sometimes.” You explain.

“Well you should be with someone who’s good to you all the time.” She says, as you enter the common room.

“He’s just jealous sometimes. It’s not like he’s ever laid a hand on me or anything.” You state.

“Right, but it’s only a matter of time before it gets worse.”

“Hermione, please. I understand your looking out for me but please, just stay out of it.” You say, as you walk quickly up to your dorm, leaving Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

“Boyfriend problems again?” Ron asks.

“Like always.” Responds Hermione, plopping down on the couch.

~~~

“Hi Theo.” You say happily, as you see him in the hallway on your way out of the bathroom.

“Hi y/n, what class are you in right now?” He asks. Since classes were in session, the hallways were empty except for the two of you.

“History of Magic and I’m bored to insanity.” You say with a giggle, and Theo responds with a chuckle.

“Wanna skip?”

You give him a look, thinking of all the possibilities, but you quickly give in. How could you ever say no to Theodore Nott?

“Take me away.” You say. Theo gives a small surprised look, too quick for you to realize what it meant. In reality, he hadn’t truly expected you to say yes, considering that Adrian had forced you to block contact with just about every boy at Hogwarts. Your slight confusion slips away as Theo grabs your hand, and you giggle as he starts dragging you out of the building.

~~~

He takes you to the Black Lake, and he sets his things down by a tree as you try to catch your breath.

“Merlin, y/n, I need to take you on more runs if your panting after that.” He says jokingly.

You slap him lightly on the shoulder as you say, “No, you’re just absurdly tall! One of your steps is like 5 of mine.”

“Sorry, principessa, I guess I didn’t take that into consideration.” He says, laughing slightly at your demeanor.

“Ok, Mr. Cocky, wrap it up.” You say, smiling, as you go sit down by the tree.

Theo and you had been close friends since 2nd year, but you started to lose touch with him, (as well as practically all your guy friends) since you started dating Adrian. You missed moments like these and cherished them the little times you got them.

You began to get out your homework as Theo was walking towards the tree.

“Oh absolutely not.” He states, coming nearer.m

“What?” You ask, confused.

“You are not about to do homework right now. You might as well have stayed in class.” He states, grabbing your textbooks.

“Ok, ok, fine. Just put my books down and then I’ll do whatever you want to do.” You say, getting up for, your sitting position.

“Anything?” He says, a smirk on his lips as he sets your books down.

You playfully roll your eyes, “almost anything.” You clarify.

“Get in the lake with me.” He says.

“But it’s cold!” You protest.

He gives you a look, and as you stare into his eyes you can’t help but say yes to whatever he says.

“Well, let’s go then!” You say as you run towards the water, taking off your clothes.

Theo laughs as he runs behind you, both of your clothes sprawled out on the ground like a trail leading to the water, leaving you both in your underwear.

You get to the dock first, but before you get a moment to readjust yourself, Theo comes running behind you, grabbing you by the waist and taking you with him into the water.

You let out a yelp before plunging into the frigid water.

“Merlin it’s cold.” Theo says, as you two reach the surface again.

“What did you expect idiot. It’s the middle of February.”

“What did you just call me?” Theo says jokingly, grabbing you by the waist again to take you down under.

“No, please! Have mercy!” You says, jokingly before being engulfed in cold water. Your body and Theo’s wrapped tightly together.

You realize that this is the first time in months that you’ve felt truly free. Nothing but happiness in your head, not even a hint of fear. It’s something you haven’t experienced since you’ve been dating Adrian. In this small moment where you’re deep in these black waters, you realize that Theo is the only one who has shown you that since you’ve been with Adrian.

You feel yourself getting pulled up and your head breaks through the surface again.

“Race you to the dock!” Theo calls out, swimming quickly towards the shore.

“Wait! That’s so unfair!” You call out before swimming after him.

The sounds of your laughter mix together, and quickly you forget everything that’s ever pained you - especially Adrian.

Quickly you reach the dock, Theo already climbing onto it.

“Beat you bella.” Theo says, a large smile on his face.

“Yeah, only because you cheated.” You say, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Aw c’mon, just admit that you’re too slow for me.” He chuckling.

“Over my dead body. Now help me up, Nott.”

“Yes ma’am.” He says, reaching down to give you his hand and lifting you up quickly as if you weighed no more that 5 pounds.

“It’s freezing.” You say, walking towards your bags.

“Good thing I have a sweatshirt.” Theo says, handing it to you as reach the tree.

You conduct a quick drying spell on the both of you and you two began redressing, you slip Theo’s sweatshirt over your uniform.

You two sit down, chatting and laughing. You realize how long it’s been since you’ve really talked to Theo, and how much you’ve missed it.

“That’s why.” Theo ends his story, explaining why Mattheo and him put hair dye in Draco’s shampoo. You laugh heavily at the story.

Theo opens his mouth to add something else before he’s quickly cut off by another voice. You feel your body tense up as you recognize it.

“Well what the fuck do we have here?” Adrian calls out as he walks over to you.

You quickly look between Theo and Adrian, your voice leaving you for a second.

“Hi baby. We were just-“

“Drop it y/n. I don’t give a fuck what you were doing. What I want to know is why you’re hanging out with this brown haired bloke.”

After this comment, Theo quickly gets up, standing to his full 6’3 height.

“Theo stop.” You whisper, grabbing his arm and getting up.

“Don’t fucking touch him y/n. I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from him.” Adrian says, his temper rising.

“I-“ Theo begins, but you cut him off.

“You’re right A, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” You say, making yourself small and holding your head down.

“What? No-“ Theo starts again, before Adrian cuts him off.

“Let’s get out of here. Now!” He says, as he takes your hand and drags you away, leaving Theo speechless.

~~~

“I can’t take it anymore.” Theo says, back in the Slytherin common room. He had stood outside in shock for about 10 minutes before heading inside. He had always known Adrian was a shitty boyfriend, but he had never really seen you two interact. He had told the story to his friends and now they were all sitting around the fire pit discussing.

“I never realized it was that serious.” Said Enzo, looking severely concerned.

“I just don’t understand why she’s still with him. He doesn’t love her. He never has and he never fucking will. He’s a goddamn psycho.” Theo says, rage seeping out of him.

“It’s horrible.” Pansy says.

“It hurts me to see him treat her the way that he does. And the worst part is that I know he’ll never let her go, cause that’s just the kind of git that he is. I just wished she could see that he’s never going to change.” Theo says, full of anger and despair.

“And everyone knows. I mean the whole school is saying how dim witted she is to keep believing his lies.” Daphne says.

“I just wish she could pay attention to the ones who would treat her right.” Theo says, before getting up, saying a quick goodnight, and heading to bed. Although, he didn’t sleep all night, how could he? Knowing that you were still with Adrian and he could probably never have you.

~~~

“Can you hurry up? I want to get there before the good stuff runs out.” Calls out Mattheo, trying to gather the group to get to the Ravenclaw party on time.

“Merlin, we’re coming.” Says Pansy, annoyed at Mattheo’s whining.

Theo, Pansy, and Daphne make their way down to the rest of the group, and they start heading to the party soon after.

~~~

“You’re disgusting mate.” Theo says, as Mattheo downs a concoction given to him by Draco.

“I’m not weak, that’s what.” Mattheo says, causing Theo to chuckle at his stupidity.

Suddenly, he sees you walk into the Ravenclaw common room. You look beautiful in a black babydoll dress and your hair loosely curled. He stares at you in awe as you make your way around the party….. behind your stupid boyfriend.

“I’ll be right back.” Theo says to his friends, walking away before they can question him.

He maneuvers around the people quickly, reaching you in a matter of seconds. He taps you on the shoulder, causing you to turn around and stare up at him.

“Hey.” You squeak out, your eyes switching from looking at his to darting around the room quickly.

Theo’s about to say something before he notices something strange about your face. Your lip has a cut on the upper lip, and hidden away by quickly applied concealer your right eye appears to be an arrange of blues, greens, purples, and yellows.

Theo stares in shock, hoping he’s just being dramatic.

“What’re you-“ Adrian starts, noticing that you weren’t behind him anymore before he quickly sees the pair of you.

“Goddamn it, do you have no one else to bother, Nott?” Adrian says, going to reach for your arm.

Theo quickly decides he’s not going to let him take you away this time.

“You do that to her face?” Theo asks, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.

Adrian laughs, as he looks to you. “Got to show her her place, y’know?” Adrian says chuckling.

Suddenly, you see Theo’s eyes darken, darken to a point you’ve never seen them get to before. The cup in his hand is crushed by his clenching fists, and his tongue is poking the inside of his cheek as he lets out a low chuckle. Quickly, before you can register what’s happening, Theo sends a punch directly into Adrian’s nose.

“What the fuck?” Adrian says, cupping his nose quickly before blood seeps all over the floor.

Before even Adrian can register what happened, Theo lands another punch, and another, and another.

Soon, Theo’s on top of Adrian, punching him ruthlessly.

Adrian is attempting to fight back but Theo’s too quick and Adrian is slowly losing consciousness. A ring has formed around the pair of them, some people attempting to break them before, 1) realizing it’s no use because Theo has absolutely no intention of stopping any time soon, or 2) the Slytherin boys stop them from grabbing Theo, because they’re enjoying the show. And on top of that, too many people are too scared of Theo to even try to intervene.

You stand back, shock stopping you from doing anything.

“Ok that’s enough.” Draco says, seeing Adrian on the ground in and out of consciousness, bruised and bloody.

“Help me you gits.” Draco calls out to the rest of the Slytherin boys.

They get Theo off of Adrian after a few seconds, and Adrian’s friends quickly pull him off of the ground and take him away.

“You touch her again and I’ll rip your fucking liver out next time, Pucey.” Theo calls out, shaking off his friends who are holding him back.

You continue to stand in your original position, mouth slightly agape as you look at Theo. No one’s ever really protected you like that.

“Theo.” You say as you walk up to him slowly.

Theo just stares at you, a softness in his eyes that wasn’t there seconds ago causes your knees to become shaky.

“I- thank you.” You say, before hugging him.

Theo quickly wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly. You begin to lightly cry into his chest, repeating your thanks over and over.

“Hey, hey, you don’t have to thank me.” Theo says, pulling you away so he can see your face, his large hands wiping away your tears.

“I just, I was so scared, all the time.” You explain.

Theo’s heart melts, and he carefully decides his next few words.

“You won’t ever have to be scared with me. If you’ll let me.” He says tenderly.

You smile, not believing that the Theodore Nott is asking you to be his.

“How could I not let you love me?” You say, before kissing him sweetly.

[dxstopiaa]

Could I request dom albedo , alhaitham or dottore with submissive nervous and sensitive puppy hybrid gn reader ^-^ honestly just a cute little pathetic mutt <3

characters: dom! character x gn! hybrid! reader warnings: degradation, mentions of heat, aphrodisiac, bondage. [this is very VERY far from my usual writing style and preferences but…first time for everything? i hope it’s to your expectations anon! i tried.. \(^ヮ^)/]

albedo

⊹ Albedo most definitely vows to investigate every inch of you— who’s so sexually aroused all the time, as if you were held in the locked grasp of a permanent rut.

⊹ His expression is cold as ever, pulling your limbs into all sorts of exposing positions and yet he still remains with that distant look. That is, until he sees it fit to inject you with all sorts of alchemical substances.

⊹ Within minutes you’re already whimpering, making a mess of your bare groin, nipples perky and hypersensitive to even the briefest of touches. Don’t fret too much— a responsible alchemist always has a antidote at hand. Not that he’ll end up using it.

⊹ Cry and whine as much as you’d like, for Albedo continues to stroke your erogenous areas, he’s most fond of your ears, droopy and downcast from the momentary neglect.

⊹ He’ll finally sink you down onto his cock when he becomes too hard to hear himself, muttering how desperate and immature you truly were. You can’t do anything but slouch your pathetic, little self against his shoulder as he fucks you for the chase of his own release.

⊹ Abandon the idea of finishing alongside him, before you know it your boyfriend will pull out and retrieve his clipboard for his observations without giving you a chance to cum. Consider it punishment for your slutty behaviour. It’s harsh or nothing at all, believe me, he’s doing you a favour.

“You’re so warm, is it the aphrodisiac or just the effect i have on you? Never mind, I wouldn’t want to worry your diminutive brain.”

alhaitham

⊹ He’s all you’ve been thinking of since that dream. A cynical scholar who wouldn’t give a care to anyone else, you’re an exception it seems. You’re always so clingy, latching onto his bicep with your tail swinging excitedly when he doesn’t retaliate.

⊹ Alhaitham— the man who’s making you sit in his lap, shoving an erotic novel he caught you reading earlier into your hands. Someone needs to tell you how to control your sex drive, he thinks. His large, calloused hands stroke gentle ministrations along your crotch, watching you lose your words.

⊹ An anxious, stuttering mess you were. The whole situation sprouted the idea of grinding against his thighs, so much so that concentration had been discarded long ago. You’re trying your hardest.

⊹ He’s shaming you at this point, sarcasm and mockery dripping with every word that fell out of his filthy mouth. Well-versed in vocabulary, even more so with sex. You can’t even say a complete sentence. How piteous.

⊹ Now it seems you’ve pushed him along further, he’s reenacting what you’ve read so far, a meagre amount. If you can’t say it, you can’t have it. You emit broken sobs as he taunts his dick at your hole, yet makes no move. You attempt to push him in with your hips yet that only earns a tug to your nipples.

⊹ Your ears perk up with every half thrust he finally initiates, the scandalous sound of your thighs hitting his lap desperately. Alhaitham thinks it’s adorable, you’re so out of touch with your own emotions he has to fuck them back into your body.

⊹ You find yourself covering your face with embarrassment at the shameful names he calls you, tugging on your tail when you don’t respond to him on whether you like them or not. Poor thing, you’re just forced to say yes!

“You want what? Sorry, i can’t hear you with all this whimpering, read louder, little puppy.”

dottore

⊹ A mere test subject you were, but Dottore finds himself playing favourites. You’re just so cute, the first to please and do as he asks. It’s almost like you’re begging him to fuck you on display. Of course, he’ll do just that.

⊹ The Doctor adores making a fool out of a doll like you, purposely making you suck his thick cock infront of the other subjects, rubbing your ears and relishing in the downright sinful moans it coaxes out of you, vibrating all along his dick.

⊹ He will strip you naked, crimson eyes scrutinising your perfect figure for anything to tease you about. If he finds none, Dottore’s bound to leave bruised lovebites on your inner neck.

⊹ If you dare to flinch the slightest at his degrading remarks, the harbinger will command you to sit on his lap as he lightly pulls your tail and spanks your plush ass, a desirable role model of obedience for the other prisoners, but now he thinks he’ll keep you for himself.

⊹ You’re his private slut at this point, you reside in his office curled up on his bed. Whenever you feel like your heat is approaching, Dottore will already have your legs spread wide on the sheets.

⊹ Thicker wires of rope and metal rubbed over your skin, keeping you hostage in the doctor’s merciless grasp. You’d never know what he’d like to try on you next.

“Are you that desperate? Do all bitches like you not know how to control themselves? Hah!”

[writingdumpster]

goodbye kisses

pairing: Rhett Abbott x reader

warnings: none

summary: the morning after a bad fight with rhett you don’t give him his goodbye kiss.

word count: .8k

You woke up without Rhett beside you for the first time in years. The night before you had instructed him to sleep on the couch, but waking up without his arms around you still felt uncomfortable. You sighed.

The fight had been bad. The worst you ever had. And it was your first since being married. You had made it a year without having one, which you were informed by all your friends was a very long honeymoon period.

Earlier that night Rhett had gotten thrown off his bull in the first round. He had been immediately rushed off to the hospital. He was fine. The doctor said he had two broken ribs and a mild concussion. When you got home that night you had said you would stay home with him for the week, but Rhett had told you he didn’t need it. He said he would just keep working. You spent the next two hours fighting about how he didn’t take care of himself enough. It turned into a fight about how you didn’t support his career and then a fight about how bull riding was going to kill him.

“You always want me to stop! You’ve never supported me!” Rhett yelled.

“That’s not true and you know it!” You spit back. “I go to every single one of your competitions.”

“Because you’re scared! Not because you care about it!” Rhett yelled.

“Of course I’m scared, Rhett!” You shouted. “You could die and you never let me help you when you’re hurt!”

“That’s because I don’t need you!”

That had ended the fight. You had left the room without another word and slammed the bedroom door behind you.

You took a deep breath as you headed out of your bedroom for the kitchen. Rhett was standing at the counter with breakfast made as he waited for you. You stopped in the doorway when you saw him.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Rhett called hopefully. You stared at him for a moment.

“I don’t need breakfast. There’s always donuts in the teacher’s lounge on Fridays,” you said. Rhett’s whole posture deflated.

“I thought you were going to stay home with me,” he said.

“I thought you didn’t need me,” you responded. You gathered your things by the door. “Bye, Rhett.” You left without another word. Rhett stood in the kitchen in complete crisis.

You didn’t kiss him goodbye. That had never happened before. Rhett started rushing to clean up so he could go after you but immediately gasped in pain when he moved too fast. He almost started rushing again, but paused. He was doing exactly the thing you hated.

Rhett took his time getting ready, being sure not to stretch himself too far. Rhett called Royal to drop him off at your school. He waved at the receptionist and then made his way back to your classroom. He opened the door and looked at you, a small smile on his face. You looked at him and then at your class full of second graders. They were in the midst of a reading assignment. You reluctantly rose from your desk and stepped into the hall with him.

“What?” You asked in a whisper.

“You didn’t kiss me goodbye,” Rhett said. You screwed your eyebrows together.

“Yeah, I know—”

“And I’m sorry,” Rhett continued. “And I need you. More than I need anything.” His hands came to rest gently on your hips. “I’m sorry,” he said again. You sighed.

“Me too,” you said, letting your hands fall against his chest. Rhett smiled.

“Please come home and take care of me,” Rhett requested.

“You don’t have to do it just to humor me,” you said.

“I’m not. It’s for me. I love it when you take care of me,” he said. “I just don’t always think I deserve it.” You gave him a sympathetic look before leaning up on your toes to kiss him. There was a small commotion behind the door. You looked over and saw a pair of eyes peeking through the crack in the door.

“Mrs. Abbott’s kissing the cowboy!” You heard a much too loud whisper. Rhett chuckled.

“Can you watch them while I go get someone to cover the class?” You asked. Rhett’s eyes went wide.

“You want me to walk into that room after that and let all those kids question me?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said. “It’ll be good practice for when we have ours.” Rhett beamed.

“Will making them be part of your caretaking?” He asked. You shook your head in disbelief.

“No,” you said with a smile. “You have two broken ribs.” Rhett groaned. “Don’t whine, you know I’m right.”

“Can I at least have the goodbye kiss you stole from me?” He asked. You giggled.

“You just got one,” you said.

“That was a makeup kiss,” Rhett said. “I want my goodbye kiss too.” You rolled your eyes before giving him a short peck. You started to release him to go find a substitute, but his hands stayed on your hips.

“You’re leaving me again,” Rhett said. “I get another goodbye kiss.”

[python333]

scary dog privileges — python333

— — — —

synopsis ur super duper scary to almost all 141 soldiers, but to price soap ghost and gaz ur just the sweetest little thing ever :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 4.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], no usage of c/n [call sign chosen for this fic is 'Cerberus'!], might sound kind of rushed/shitty :{

note normally i try not to rush fics BUT i started this at like 12 pm and as im typing this out its 11 pm and ive only written 2285 words so im kind of rushing this so i can keep up my little posting daily thing!! this idea has also been rotting in my brain for a while, so i might make a hcs thing from it, idk, but for now its just this fic!! also, thank you everyone who gave reblogged my last fic, reblogs are the best sorta motivation for a reader and i absolutely appreciate all of them :> anyway this is all fluff + comfort no hurt and has some soft!ghost in it because hes my dad and i love him so enjoy!!

The Private in front of you may as well have been pissing his pants with how scared he looked. His commanding officer, and one of your closest friends, Soap, had reported him to you for ‘insubordination’. He’d said, verbatim, when telling you about him, “I’d deal with him myself, but I’m too tired to,” so now you had to deal with one of his subordinates. 

You sighed through your nose as you looked down at the Private in front of you, the latter comically small compared to you, both physically and mentally. 

“Well?” You ask expectantly, raising an eyebrow at him, “Are you gonna tell me what happened?” The Private shakily nods and you can hear him gulp, “Right, yeah, so basically, it was earlier this morning and I was following orders and everything, doing what I was supposed to, then I accidentally interrupted Soap while he was giving me orders, which I didn’t mean to do, I swear, I just wasn’t thinking and it happened and I just— I didn’t mean to do it. And then later on, we were both—me and Soap—talking with a few other people who I guess were some higher ranked soldiers from different tactical operations and I accidentally interrupted some of them. It was—” “I’m sorry, hold on,” You put a finger up to silence him, to which he responds with immediate silence, letting you talk, “You don’t accidentally interrupt someone. Either you do it or you don’t. You don’t just slip up and interrupt your CO in the middle of him giving you orders. Secondly, always refer to Soap as ‘Captain MacTavish’, or ‘Captain’ if that’s somehow too hard for you, don’t act like you get to talk about him like you’re both all buddy-buddy and—” “Okay, but if you’d just let me finish—” The Private tries to interrupt you, making you draw your eyebrows together in confusion. “Excuse me?” You ask, mildly offended that he had the audacity to interrupt you, “Did you just interrupt me?” The Private stays silent for a moment, looking up at you, wide-eyed. His whole face looks even more stupid like this—like he doesn’t even know what he did. 

“I asked you a question, Private,” You remind him, leaning down a bit, tilting your head to the side questioningly, “Did you just interrupt me?”  “Right, yeah, I did, sorry about that—” He tries to apologize, “Didn’t mean to. Swear.” “Right,” You narrow your eyes at him, standing back up straight and crossing your arms, “Remember what I just said? About not accidentally interrupting people?” “Yeah, I do.” “Could you say ‘Yes, Lieutenant’ instead of that?” You ask, “This isn’t a casual conversation. This is one of your superiors telling you that you can’t blatantly disrespect your commanding officer, so act like it.” “Yes— Yes, Lieutenant,” The Private stammers, which really shouldn’t make your lips twitch at the corners but it does, and you have to fight off a smile, pursing your lips instead. 

“Like I was saying earlier,” You continue your words from earlier, “In conversations like these, when you’re not out doing an assignment, I don’t want to catch you referring to Captain MacTavish as just ‘Soap’ ever again. And you don’t want me to catch you doing that either, you understand?” “I understand, Lieutenant.” “Good, good,” You nod, before gesturing for the Private to keep giving you his side of the story, “Continue telling me what happened then.” “Right, so, after that, Captain MacTavish gave me some new orders, and I felt like I had a better idea of what to do than him because I’d thought of something that makes more sense than what he told me to do, so I told him as such, and he acted all shocked like I didn’t have a really good idea, and told me that I was to follow his orders not the ones I tried to give to myself so I told him that mine were better and—”

“Have you read the military regulations and codes of conduct? Ever?” You interrupt, making the Private shut up almost immediately and hesitantly nod his head affirmatively. “I really don’t believe you. Everything I’ve heard so far is a direct violation of it, I just—” You pause to give a small, humorless laugh, “You have me speechless here, really.” The Private watches nervously as you struggle to find the appropriate words to say, before you finally come up with, “Is there more that you need to tell me about?” “… Yeah,” The Private answers sheepishly, making you sigh through your nose and gesture for him to tell you the rest. He clears his throat before starting up again, “And then he said that he’s the commanding officer for a reason and that what he says goes so I said okay and did what he told me to do. Then after that whole thing, he told me to go to your office and tell you what I did.” Why do I have to do all his dirty work? “… Okay then,” You look up at the ceiling and try to think of what to do, before taking a deep breath and looking down at the Private, muttering, “Well, I appreciate that you didn’t go into my office without my permission, at least you know not to do that.” You clear your throat before speaking louder, “Let’s head into my office instead of just standing out here. This is probably violating some sort of code…” The Private nods and lets you unlock the door to your office that’s just a few steps away and walks in after you, being sure to close the door behind him. He automatically sits at the chair across from your desk and you sit down at your own chair behind your desk. 

“Right, okay, let’s see…” You dig around the drawers of your desk, before letting out a small ‘ah-ha!’ and pulling a corrective action assignment form out of one of the small drawers of your desk and setting it onto the top of your desk. You grab a pen from the small cup by your desk and write down the date on the form in your usual neat handwriting. 

You read a question on the form and look over at the Private, “Could you give me your full name, please?”

“John— John Williams,” The Private stammers again, making you raise an eyebrow.

“Your name is John-John Williams?”

“No, just John Williams, Lieutenant.” “M’kay,” You write down his name and fill out a few more things on the form before signing it off with your name and looking over at the Private once again, folding the paper in half as you do, “I’m gonna trust you to bring this to Soap, and tell him that it’s from me. You think you can do that?” “Yeah, of course,” John breathes out, grabbing the paper from you as you hand it to him. “Yes what?” “Yes— Yes, Lieutenant.” “There we go,” You sigh and lean back in your chair, “Go on and pass that to him. And tell him to send anyone else who’s being insubordinate to Ghost or something, anyone but me.” 

John simply nods and gets up, walking out your office door and making sure to close it behind him. You cap the pen you’d used and put it back in the cup where the rest of your writing utensils are, before yawning and leaning forward to rest your head on your desk when suddenly there’s a sharp knocking at your office door. You muffle a groan and wait a moment before calling out, “Come in!” You watch as your door slowly opens, making a creaking sound that hurts your ears a bit, and much to your annoyance, yet another Private is standing in your doorway, looking just as sheepish as the last. “Oh my f— you know what?” You stand up and take a deep breath to momentarily calm yourself, “Who sent you? Was it Soap?” “… Yes,” The Private answers, their voice shaky as they speak to you, the whole thing only making you more annoyed. “Where is he right now?” You ask, walking towards the door and opening it wider, towering over the much smaller Private in front of you. 

“The— the training facility.” You blink at the Private and you take another deep breath to calm yourself. “Yeah, no sh— ugh, you know what? Thank you. Just—” You look up at the ceiling and tell yourself not to snap at this poor rookie, and look back down at them, “Just follow me. I have to go yell at him.” 

“What?” The Private asks dumbly, their eyes widening a bit in surprise. You don’t bother to look over your shoulder and check that they’re following you, instead just walking out of your office, somehow hearing their footsteps even with the thundering stomping your boots made as you walked. 

You eventually made it to one of the training facilities, the only one that currently had anyone in them, and opened the door louder than you meant to. You walked in, the shaking Private behind you as you walked up to Soap and took several deep breaths to calm yourself, ignoring the several rookies that stared at you as you walked over to him. You could hear small whispers forming amongst Soap’s small platoon of soldiers, but ignored them as well, simply walking up to Soap, who finally noticed you. He turned to you and gave you a knowing grin, like he knew exactly why you were here. “Hey, L.t—” “Why have I had two Privates coming into my office telling me you sent them because you couldn’t do your damn job?” You question him immediately, ignoring the small gasp from the Private behind you, “Do you know how many CAA forms I have left? Three. Three forms. Because you can’t deal with your own rookies. If I wanted to be dealing with them, I would’ve let Price make me a CO. You know what I said when he asked me to be one? Fuck no. I said it for a reason.” 

“… Sae ye din’t want me tae report onyone else tae ye?” Soap asks, like the little shit he is, in a teasing tone. “Absolutely not.”

“Noted,” He nods, as if he understands, and gestures for the Private he’d sent to you to come back over to him, “I actually got yer message a minute ago from Williams. I think he almost shat himself.” 

“I’m kinda happy about that, honestly,” You mutter, “Everything he told me was like… a direct violation of the code of conduct and was just so stupid.” “I ken!” Soap agrees, “I swear, naebody reads the code ‘o conduct ony mair.” “I asked him if he did, and he said yes, but I know he’s lying,” You roll your eyes before adding on, “And you know what? I’ve only had issues with British people ever since you and Gaz started reporting people to me. I think that they’re just the issue.” 

“Jesus, I ken,” Soap mutters, “Fuckin’ Brits.” “Fuckin’ Brits.” You nod in agreement, before sighing and looking over at the rest of Soap’s platoon. You look back at him, “I also told Williams to actually refer to you as ‘Captain MacTavish’, so… there’s that.” “Guid, guid,” Soap nods, before clearing his throat and continuing,

“So did ye only come here tae yell at mae?” 

“Yeah.” You admit, making Soap laugh lightly.

“And yer done now?”

“… I guess,” You mutter, making him chuckle and pat you on the shoulder.

“Guid,” He says, looking over at his group of soldiers he’s meant to be training, “I think yer scarin’ my soldiers more than mae.”

“How can you tell?” You ask sarcastically, following his gaze to the rookies that were trying their best not to look like they were eavesdropping when they clearly were. “They don’t even know we’re talking right now.” Soap huffs out a small laugh, “Right, o’ course.” 

“I’m gonna head back to my office and take a quick nap,” You let Soap know, “So don’t send me anymore people. They’re stinking up my office, it’s ridiculous.” Soap raises an eyebrow at you questioningly, “Why don’t you just go to your sleeping quarters?” “Don’t tell me what to do.” Soap raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, then.” You huff out a tired breath and say, “So if anyone asks where I am, just let them know that.” You don’t wait for a response before you walk away from Soap and immediately hear whispers starting up again, but you ignore them as you walk out the door, sort of used to them at this point. You didn’t know why you were so scary to some of the lower-ranked soldiers (and even some of the higher-ranked ones), considering you never intentionally did anything to scare them. Sure, you were taller than most of them, and maybe just a bit quicker to lose your temper with people, but it was never that bad. 

You vividly remember Gaz and Soap when they both found out a majority of the soldiers that were apart of the 141 were afraid of you or at least intimidated by you, the two had said that they wanted you around more often, just hanging out with them, so that they wouldn’t get bothered as much by people for unnecessary things.

Scary dog privileges, you remember they’d said, laughing as they did. It’s actually where you’d gotten your call sign, Cerberus. 

It’s not that you hated it at all, in fact, you didn’t mind being a little scary if it meant people were less likely to bother you, it’s just that it makes it a hell of a lot harder to actually talk to people without them starting to stammer or shake.

It was one of the reasons you turned down being a commanding officer—you didn’t really like the thought of commanding a platoon of soldiers that cowered in your presence. Plus, it was getting really annoying, not being able to talk to another soldier that wasn’t Price, Soap, Ghost or Gaz without them looking like all they wanted to do was leave the conversation. 

You finally make it back to your office and let out a sigh of relief as you open the door and walk in, closing it behind you, not even bothering to lock it as you immediately walk over to the chair behind your desk and sit down in it.

You reach below your desk and pull out a nice, fluffy blanket and a fluffy pillow to go with it that you always kept in your office—just for times like this, when you felt like going to sleep in your office, for whatever reason.

Were you supposed to be napping at all? No. Would your superiors let you anyway because you’ve somehow managed to get emotionally adopted by both Price and Soap? Absolutely.

You move some of the papers cluttering your desk out of the way and set down your pillow, as well as wrapping yourself in the blanket, and sigh happily as you lay your head down onto the pillow. 

Just as you’re getting comfy, you hear a knock at the door. No. You don’t get up to answer it. You just sit there, head on your pillow, nice and comfy. In fact, you refuse to answer the door, because you’ve opened it for two other people already, and God knows who you’re gonna snap at once you open that door.

Another knock—you ignore that one too, knowing full well you told Soap to tell anyone who was looking for you that you were in your office but also knowing that you never said you’d open the door, you just said you’d be there. 

You bury your face into the pillow and scream into it, knowing the scream wouldn’t be too muffled with how loud it was, but doing it anyway. You then take a deep breath and call out, unenthusiastic and tired, “Come in!” 

You watch the door open and see Ghost step in, and you’re silent as you watch him close the door behind him and walk over to you, his century old shitty laptop in hand as he sits down in the chair in front of your desk and sets down said laptop.

You pay no mind to it, deciding you’d rather take a nap, and set your head back down on the pillow, pretending that you can’t feel Ghost’s eyes on you. “… Are you okay?” He asks, sounding a little concerned as he looks at you bury your head into your pillow, before his concern turns into confusion as he asks, “When did you get a pillow in here— you have a blanket, too?” 

“Mmph.” You don’t respond with actual words, even if you did they’d be muffled beyond relief by your pillow. You can’t see him but Ghost raises an eyebrow at you and his lips twitch into a small, amused smile. 

“What, you’ve just had those in here?” Ghost asks, knowing he’ll get nothing more than a muffled hum from you. 

“Mmph.” “Alright, then,” He mutters, “Keep your secrets.” “Mmph.” You feel too tired to bother responding with anything else. “I feel like you shouldn’t sleep in your office, considering you have your own sleeping quarters you can sleep in.” “… Mmph.” “That’s fair,” Ghost nods. You hear him opening his laptop and you hear it crack when it opens, the noise making you huff out a small laugh into your pillow. God, that thing is so old, it’s ridiculous.

“What’s so funny?” Ghost asks as he types in his password. You don’t say anything in response, which doesn’t shock him in the slightest.  You feel yourself start to get closer to sleep, but can’t get quite there, instead sort of just hanging right on the edge of sleep.

You quietly grumble in frustration and shift a bit in your seat, not knowing what the issue is. Ghost notices this and raises an eyebrow at you, but doesn’t do anything about it just yet, instead getting back to his work. Why’d he have to go into your office to do his work? Who knows.

You shift again in your seat and Ghost knows that he’s not gonna be able to focus if you keep shifting—why wouldn’t he just go to his own office?—around, so he sighs and picks up his laptop and drags the chair in front of your desk with him around to behind your desk where you are.

You lift your head up to try and see what he’s doing, confused, and see him putting his chair right next to yours and setting his laptop down onto the desk. 

Before you can ask anything, he gently puts a hand on the side of your head and guides it to rest on his shoulder, and—oh. This is much better, somehow. 

He seems to know that it’s that much better, too, because his eyes crinkle a bit, giving away the fact that he’s smiling. However, he stays silent, and keeps his hand on the side of your head for a moment before letting it fall down to the side of your forearm, his thumb gently rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

He opens up his laptop once again and types in his password with one hand, the typing going by significantly slower than it would’ve if he used both hands, but he decides against keeping his hand off of you, seeing as it assists in helping you go to sleep.

Are you supposed to be asleep right now? Definitely not. But like mentioned before, Price wouldn’t mind. And you’d probably laugh if Soap minded, because even if he’s a Captain, he’ll always act like a little shit. Ghost knows this too, and with this information, he figures that he might as well help you sleep, since he knows exactly how to help you sleep. 

One too many nights spent pacing in your room, which eventually woke Ghost up, which led to him helping you sleep, so that he could sleep too, You sleepily remember, He always said he was annoyed by the pacing, and that’s the only reason he helped you sleep. But now, seeing what’s happening now, makes you question that a bit. Was it his annoyance, or something else? Or am I thinking too much about this?

Cutting off your train of thought is another knock at the door, and it’s not loud enough to completely snap you out of your drowsy haze but it’s enough to make you a little more aware, and for you to readjust your head your head so that your face is practically buried in the crook of Ghost’s neck. His thumb stops rubbing against your forearm, and he glares at the door like it was the door’s fault it got knocked on. 

The knocking persists and neither of you say anything, just waiting on whoever it is on the other side to give up and go away, but whoever it is must be feeling pretty determined because even louder knocks sound at the door, making you and Ghost sigh in unison.

You both continue to stay silent, hoping that whoever was on the other side just goes away, but they don’t. You don’t hear any footsteps retreating, and the knocks keep coming.  

“Hello?” You both hear Price’s voice on the other side, “Cerberus? You in there?” “Say no,” You mutter into Ghost’s neck. He nods and clears his throat. 

“Nope!” Ghost calls out in response to Price’s question. 

“… Ghost?” Price’s surprised voice comes through, “What are you doing in there?” “Say this is your office,” You murmur, making Ghost huff out a small, amused laugh and nod again. 

“This is my office,” Ghost responds, “Why wouldn’t I be here?” “What? No,” Price’s voice becomes confused, “This is Cerberus’ office.” “No it’s not,” Ghost denies, lying straight through his teeth. You laugh quietly against his neck. “Uh… but it is?” Price argues, “It has their name on the front.” “No it doesn’t,” Ghost blatantly denies, continuing his thumb’s slow circle movements on your skin, the soothing action making you hum contently. You don’t know how, but somehow your humming is loud enough for Price to hear. Does he have his ear against the door or something?

“I can hear Cerberus in there,” Price argues again, “Don’t lie to me.” “Sorry, lamb,” Ghost apologizes to you softly, tone significantly more soft than it typically is, “I think he’s caught onto us.” “… I guess it’s fine for him to come in, then,” You mumble against his neck. He responds with a nod. 

“Come in!” Ghost calls out, and almost immediately you hear the door open and Price’s loud footsteps walking in. You can’t see him, but he opens his mouth to say something, when his eyes catch on your face buried in the crook of Ghost’s neck.

He looks questioningly at Ghost, the latter simply blinking over at Price, daring him to comment on it. 

He doesn’t, and instead closes the door behind him and walks up to the desk. 

“Cerberus?” He asks. You hum offhandedly, and he takes that as a sign to continue, “You okay?” “Mhm.” “You know you can sleep in your own sleeping quarters, right?” “Mhm.” “And you’re choosing not to?” 

“Mhm.” Price blinks at you for a moment before muttering, “Alright, then,” under his breath and turning to Ghost, “And you’re here because?” “Felt like having some company,” Ghost answers simply, watching as Price glances at his thumb rubbing circles into your forearm, and continues to watch as his eyes slowly make their way up to the way your face is buried in the crook of his neck. 

Price looks at Ghost, mouthing the words, ‘I’m telling everyone about this,’ to which Ghost mouths back, ‘Don’t you dare.’ Price grins at this and opens his mouth to say something else before there’s another knock at the door. 

“Are you always this popular?” Ghost asks you, sounding both mildly annoyed and amused. 

“Mhm.” You hum affirmatively. 

Ghost sighs and he and Price call out in unison, “Come in!” The door opens and you temporarily readjust your head so that you’re just resting your head on Ghost’s shoulder with your face facing the door, and you watch as Gaz enters the room and his neutral face turns into one of both surprise and confusion. 

“Were you lot having a party in here, or something?” He asks, closing the door behind him.

“Not originally,” Ghost deadpans, watching as Gaz walks over next to Price and leans against your desk, “What’re you here for?”

“Needed an extra corrective action form,” Gaz answers. Ghost looks down at you for permission to rummage through your desk drawers and you nod.

“Second drawer to the right,” You mumble, and Ghost opens that exact one up and pulls out a CAA form, handing it over to Gaz, who takes it with a ‘thank you’ and folds it in half, stuffing it into his back pocket.

He looks between you and Ghost questioningly, and opens his mouth to say something, before Ghost gives him the same look he did to Price, and Gaz immediately snaps his mouth shut.

“If you’re tired, Cerberus, you should go to your sleeping quarters,” Price comments, tone worried. You look over at him.

“What if someone needs me, though?” You ask, slowly blinking at him.

“Kid, I don’t think anyone would get any good help from you with the state you’re in right now,” Price says honestly, ignoring the small glare you send him. “Anyone who needs you can just refer to someone else.”

You hum neutrally and sigh before muttering, “Fine,” and tentatively take your head off of Ghost’s shoulder and unwrapping the blankets you’d wrapped around yourself earlier, bundling it into a little ball and putting it into the box under your desk, putting the pillow in there as well.

You crack your knuckles quickly and get up from your seat, quickly putting your hands on the edge of your desk to steady yourself, standing up on slightly shaky legs. “I can help you get over there,” Price offers, frowning a bit when you shake your head negatively. Ghost lets out a sigh and stands up, closing his laptop before quickly walking over to you and wrapping an arm loosely around your side, over your arm, pulling you closer to him and helping you stand up a bit straighter. Gaz observes all of this with a raised eyebrow but otherwise says nothing, instead watching with Price—who watched this with disbelief in his eyes—as Ghost walked with you to the door wordlessly, opening the door and walking out of it with you, not looking back as he closes the door behind him. “You think everyone’s gonna think Cerberus is all scary after they see them leaning on Ghost trying to get back to their sleeping quarters?” Gaz asks Price, staring at the closed door. “Somehow, yeah,” Price says after a moment, still caught up in his disbelief, “That is… the strangest thing I’ve seen all day.” “It’s only thirteen, Captain.” “I don’t think anything’s gonna top that.” “Top what?” Gaz asks, a little confused, “Seeing Ghost helping out Cerberus?” “Yeah.” Gaz huffs out a laugh and pats Price’s shoulder, “Jesus, man. I’m surprised that’s the first time you’ve seen that.” Gaz ignores Price’s confused look and walks towards the door, opening and closing it as he walks out, leaving Price dumbfounded in Cerberus’ office. “Huh?”

[collapsedglasshouses]

HEAVEN KNOWS I AIN'T GETTING OVER YOU || Joakim Karlsson x fem!Reader

picture found on pinterest

PAIRING: ex-husband!Jolly x fem!reader

SUMMARY: When Jolly visits you unannounced on a Tuesday night, you have no idea what it leads to.

WARNINGS: SMUT [oral sex, female receiving; unprotected p in v], possessive!jolly, ANGST, jolly and reader have a daughter together (y/d/n), MDNI, 18+

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @circle-with-me @jilliemiw86 @justeli6 (If you wanna be added to my taglist in general, leave a comment or message me privately!)

A/N: i wrote this in one sitting and i'm so proud of it that i can't hide it for one second longer. i hope you like it! also this isn't proofread, im very sorry ._.

MASTERLIST

[y/d/n = your daughter’s name]

You thought the hardest thing you had ever done in your entire life was the process of deciding to file for divorce from your ex-husband Jolly, but he had proven you wrong. It was that he had signed the papers without an argument or fight. He had just done it.

It had stung, how he came back from a long tour, saw the papers laying on the kitchen counter and just signed them. It hurt but you also knew it was for the best. That he didn’t fight with you was hard, but it also made it in some ironic way easier.

Since you had a daughter together, he came over only on the weekends when he was home from touring and normally, he’d only pick up your daughter and leave again; not really much conversation going on between you except the necessary small talk. He was a good father and human after all, and you were glad for that.

After some time, routine came back and somewhat everything began to feel normal again. You began to date again, and Jolly seemed to live his life to the fullest. You were happy for him.

That changed when your doorbell rang on a Tuesday evening. You were sitting on the couch watching TV when you heard the sound and for the first couple of seconds you thought about not opening the door. After all, it was almost 8 PM and you were kind of scared there would be someone trying to break in or hurt you, but when it rang again you became curious.

“Joakim?” You asked surprised when you saw him standing there.

“Is it true?” He just asked and looked you dead in the eye.

“What?” You answered him confused. He looked like he hadn’t slept properly since he brought back your daughter two days ago.

“On the weekend, y/d/n said you were seeing someone.” He asked, his tone careful, yet you could sense some sort of hurt in his voice.

“Do you maybe wanna come in before you confront me about stuff that hasn’t got anything to do with you?” You grumbled at him in a sarcastic tone, which he ignored while stepping into the place you once called home together.

He walked into the living room, followed by you. There he crossed his arms in front of your chest and looked at you, disappointed.

“What do you want to here, Joakim? I don’t remember that we agreed to be abstinent for the rest of our lives.” You snarled at him and mirrored is gesture.

“Don’t you think it still hurts that I hear that from our daughter instead of you?” He responded in the same tone.

“I don’t know why you suddenly seemed to care.” You grumbled. “Since you didn’t show any interest in me for… how long is it now? One and a half years?”

“You didn’t even let me explain myself and threw the divorce papers at me. How do you think I feel?” He angrily expressed.

“I don’t even need to tell you this, but there is no other guy. I went on two dates. TWO dates, Jolly.” You answered him while ignoring how his statement stung. You knew it had been egoistic of you, but the months before the divorce, he either wasn’t at home or when he was, he didn’t even look at you. You felt unimportant, unloved, neglected. And now he was throwing around these statements. You wished he had done it earlier. You wished he would have opened up to you. The fact that he only did it because he saw the potential danger of another person in your life, hurt you so much.

Jolly took a deep breath. “I feel like we never even talked about this whole separation.”

“You were the one who didn’t ask when I handed you the papers, Joakim.” You said, your tone a lot calmer than it had been before but you still were angry. You were glad that your daughter was having a sleepover at a friend's house that night, otherwise she would have already been downstairs.

When Jolly didn’t say anything for another solid minute, you sighed.

“Don’t you think it is a bit too late to talk now?” You mumbled defeated and ran a hand through your hair. “I hope you know that I didn’t do that to hurt you. We both know it would have ended way uglier if we dragged it out longer than it already had been.”

You saw how Jolly swallowed hard.

“You know I still love you?” He almost whispered and let his hands fall to his sides. When you looked at him like that, he almost looked broken… defeated. For the first time since what felt like ages, you felt like he let his guard down. Like he wasn’t trying to hide his feelings away.

“I know, Jolly.” You answered him. “And I also know that a part of me still loves you and always will, but we both know that this isn’t going to work. At least not like this.”

He slowly took a step towards you, carefully watching your reaction. When you didn’t look reluctant or took a step back, he reached for your hand and grabbed it.

“I am so sorry that all of this happened. I thought about everything that had happened. Long before the divorce. I know how cruel I was to leave you in the dark. To not talk to you when I needed nothing but your comfort. I thought that I would get through everything by myself.” He told you with honesty in his voice.

“You didn’t have to go through everything alone. That is what a marriage is for, Jolly. I would have been more than happy to help you. I still am if you need me.” You whispered out and looked into the eyes of the man you had and still loved so dearly, and you felt how your heart hurt.

“I always need you, y/n. I need you so bad.” Jolly responded and you saw how his eyes became glossy. Without even thinking you wrapped your arms around his torso and hugged him tightly. You felt how tears started to form in your eyes and it broke your heart when you heard him sniffle for a second.

When you leaned back to look at him, there was this foolish hope in your heart. The hope that you would be able to find back to each other. But your brain knew, even if you did eventually manage to do that, now was not the right time for it.

“Can I kiss you?” Jolly asked and you felt warmth form in your stomach. You knew you should have said no. You knew you should have been strong, but you still nodded.

Your lips met with a ferocity born from years of unspoken words and yearning. The taste of his mouth a bittersweet reminder of everything you had lost.

It felt like you kissed for an eternity and still, when you pulled away, it felt like it wasn’t long enough. You missed him. You missed everything about him, from his small jokes to the way it felt when you fell asleep next to him. He was what made this house a home.

“We shouldn’t.” You whispered against his lips, and he nodded. Before he could even think about letting you go, you pressed your lips against his for a second kiss. This one being much more eager than the previous one.

Slowly but surely, you stumbled towards the couch and soon you were laying under him, lips still connected as if life depended on it. His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you couldn’t help but sigh into the kiss.

It didn’t take long until his fingers curled into the waistband of your shorts and panties. For a second, he leaned back to look for consent in your eyes. When you eagerly nodded, he tugged them down your legs.

He kissed you deeply before lowering himself down your body. You shivered when you felt his breath against your core and not even a second later you felt his warm tongue sliding through your folds. He drew skillful circles around your clit. A wave of warmth washed over you as you moaned out his name and it felt so wrong and so right at the same time. You had missed him so much.

Your hand reached for his and he was quick to intertwine your fingers. Your nails pressed into the skin on his hand as your back arched in pleasure.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He pleaded as he raised his head for a second to look at you through his lashed and you felt like you could come on the spot.

“I’m yours, Joakim. I always will be.” You whimpered out and it was all he needed to hear as his head lowered again.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the waves of your orgasm washing over you, as you screamed out his name. Your vision blurred for a second as you came on his tongue. He kissed the inside of your thighs until you slowly came down from your high, before he came up to look at you again.

You grabbed his face and kissed him with such force, he feared to collapsed right on the spot. You could taste yourself on his tongue and the feeling of the fabric of his jeans against your naked cunt made you shiver in overstimulation.

In a swift motion, he turned you on your stomach and you heard how he unzipped his pants. The next thing you felt was hot kisses pressed to the back of your neck and you sighed in need. You needed to feel him, even if it was the last time.

“Do you have a condom?” He groaned into your ear.

“You don’t need one, Joakim. I’m clean and on the pill.” – “Got it.”

You clenched your fists into the fabric of the couch as you felt him enter you. A delicate burn formed inside of you as he stretched your walls. He was gentle but still you let out a small yelp as he bottomed out in one stroke. The small groan that escaped from Jolly’s lips, let you clench around him for a moment.

“God.” He moaned. “I wish I could stay inside of you forever.”

You moaned as a response.

“I’ll make you mine, even if it’s the last time.” He groaned as he slung an arm around your torso, making you slightly sit on him as he thrusted into you.

“I’ll be yours.” You whimpered and reached behind you to grab onto his hair. You moved in a rhythm as you felt the knot tighten in your stomach for a second time. One of Jolly’s hands travelled between your thighs and began to rub small circles on your wet clit.

“God, Jolly. I’m gonna come.” You almost screamed out.

“I’ve got you.” He breathed out as you felt the intense sensation of your second orgasm rolling over you. You felt how your body slowly lost strength, but you held yourself together for him.

You fell forward, leaning on your elbows as his hands grabbed your hips. Shortly after that you felt how he was twitching inside of you and he let out a loud groan as he finished inside of you, his cum filling you up until it began to drip. He grabbed the armrest of the couch in front of you to not let his weight drop on you as he mumbled out small love confessions.

For a couple of moments, neither of you dared to move. He peppered your shoulder with small kisses while you both tried to tame your breaths. Even though, you both didn’t want to, he eventually pulled out of you and got up, as you slowly laid down on your back.

After a minute or so he reappeared with a washcloth and gently cleaned you up, before helping you up from the couch and to the bathroom to go to the toilet.

After you finished and came back to the living room, he handed you your clothes and you both got fully dressed again, before looking at each other in awkward silence.

You knew what he was going to say, before he could even finish.

“Maybe, I should-…” – “Stay.”

He blinked a couple of times as his eyes lit up.

“Y/d/n isn’t coming back until tomorrow after school. You can stay.” You almost whispered and hoped he wouldn’t leave you in that state. “I want you to stay.”

“Okay.” He muttered and nodded slightly. “I will.”

As the two of you sat down on the couch, a wave of guilt washed over you. This was a forbidden taste of the past that only solidified the painful truth. You were bound by a love that could never be, at least not now…

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[saphhhiree]

introduction to art part 2

abed nadir x reader

part 2 of a req from @vampireluck read part one here!

warnings: nsfw!!! 18+, jeff’s ego, oral m!receiving, fingering, slightly ooc maybe, hickeys!!!, troys jealous

also can we talk ab abed hands for a sec..

“wait. what’s happening? are you flirting?” he looks up at you, noticing that you’re a little too close than he remembers you being. “do you want me to be?” you ask looking down at your feet. he stands up, cocking his head to the side, looking down at you, “yes” he says.

he bends down and kisses you; you stiffen, not processing what happened until you feel the absence of his lips. “wait, y/n, i’m sorry if i read that wrong i thought-“ you cut him off smashing your lips against his again, he adapted to your speed and force immediately, matching your pace as you grazed your hands up his nape, weaving your hands in his hair. he groans softly into the kiss, placing his hands on your hips, pulling them closer to his. he squeezed them softly, you smile into the kiss, moving your hands from his hair to trail one hand down his adams apple, earning another soft groan from him, while your other hand continued down his chest, stopping at the hem of his pants. “can i?” breaking the kiss to whisper in his ear while playing with the hem of his pants, “only if you want to, y/n” he kisses your neck, as you bite softly on his. you tilt your head back, giving him a brief kiss before getting down on your knees, pulling his boxers and pants down in one go. he hisses due to the cold air against him, mixed with the sight of you on your knees for him. you spit in your hand and wrap it around his base while kissing the tip softly; you open your mouth, licking a line on the bottom of his base before taking him in your mouth. he groaned softly, eyebrows furrowed, accidentally bucking his hips forward, causing you to gag slightly. you move slowly, swirling your tongue around the tip before going down again, repeating this grueling process until he moans out, “faster, please, y/n” you hummed in response, earning another pretty sound from him. you trailed your hands up his inner thighs, using them for balance. tears pricked your eyes before his hips buck again, “i think im close” you release him from your mouth to jerk him off, out of breath and your mouth needing a break “cum for me” you whispered softly and with that, he softly whined as he came, painting your face with his seed, you licked off what landed on your lips before using your shirt to wipe the rest off. he pulled his pants back up as you stood up getting ready to put your clothes on, “wait, what about you?” he held your wrist, stopping you from picking up your pants, “oh, abed, it’s okay. i don’t wanna push you.” you said with a soft smile, you knew it was tough for him to show physical affection towards others, but he stopped your thoughts saying, “ but i want to make you feel good too,” he looked at you, a genuine, real, kindhearted expression laid out on his face. he wasn’t putting on a front, pretending to be someone else, or using movies or shows to connect. you could see that he wanted, no, needed, to make you feel good. “please, (y/n).” you studied his gaze a second longer before kissing him, walking back so you were against the study room table, “okay” you parted, connecting your forehead with his.

he leaned down and started softly kissing your neck before finding the exact spot that made your pulse quicken ever so slightly; he bit down, lightly sucking as he trailed his hands down your waist, hesitating on the hem of your underwear, “it’s okay, abed, i would tell you if i didn’t like this.” he responded with a soft “yea” before dipping down into your underwear, he felt your arousal immediately, smirking as he teased around your hole, he dipped one finger in, slowly, payback for your teasing earlier, you softly moan as he enters a second finger, still biting on your neck every so often, “fuck, abed” you pleaded, practically begging him to stop teasing. almost immediately, he curls his slim digits inside you, coaxing a whine from your pretty mouth; he whispers in your ear, “you’re the most captivating thing i’ve seen in my life.” he bites your earlobe before picking up his pace, fingers moving in and out while still curling. you squeeze your eyes shut as your mouth fell open, an array of whines and gasps falling past your lips. "dont stop, fuck" you moan into his ear, "i wont." he whispers in your neck. you feel so good, you bite down hard on his shoulder, earning a hiss from him. you were so close, eyes blurry as you reached your limit. "abed, im close.." with that, he entered another finger, stretching you out with his slender fingers; you snap before you can even process the change, "fuck" you draw out every letter, squeezing around him as you cum, a mix of pleasure, happiness, and pure bliss. he slows down and takes his fingers out carefully. you catch your breath, grabbing onto his hoodie for balance. "are you okay?" he asks; you nod and hum softly. he walks across the room, bending down and picking up your pants and stained shirt. walking back over to you, he hands you your pants but keeps your shirt. "i don't think you should wear this" he says before unzipping his hoodie, "here" placing it around your shoulders. you start putting on your pants before zipping the hoodie up, "thanks abed." you look at him before embracing him in a hug. "thank you, y/n" he says before wrapping his arms around you. "we should really finish that project..." you release him, now worried about the assignment that got you into this in the first place. "it's already done." he hands you his notepad, and sure as hell, the sketch perfectly summed up what needed to be done for a passing grade. "holy shit abed, this is really good." you look at him in awe, handing the notebook back before slinging your bag over your shoulder. "thanks" his gaze meets yours, "i really like you y/n, i really do, and i dont want this to end here." you take his hand in yours, "i dont want it to either." you lean in for a kiss before giggling. "we need to head back to the study room, cmon." you tug softly on his shirt before turning of your heels making your way to the rest of the study group, him following quickly beind.

"somethings different." troy mumbles as you both take your respective seats. you make quick eye contact with abed. "*GASP* YOU DIDN'T!" troy shoots up from his seat, pointing to you, noticing the marks across your neck. the study group turns to you as you try to cover your neck nonchalantly. "oh no... i need to go home... you ruined the only pure thing in this group! shame on you! mhm mhm" shirley says, shaking her head and rushing out of the study room, mumbling something about sinners and hell (of course), "wow! i can't believe abed got some before i did." jeff leans back in his chair. "OW!" he recoils from a sharp jab from britta, "abed is becoming a man now, and we need to support him. abed, it's normal to feel-" before britta could even start one of her "therapy" rants, jeff interrupts her saying "britta, no, troy, sit down, your boyfriend is fine, don't worry. as for me, im going home." jeff stands up getting ready to walk out of the room. "we need to finish studying!" annie pouts to jeff, crossing her arms. "im going home." jeff says walking out. "yea, same." britta gets her things ready and leaves. "ugh! fine! you guys are going to fail, and i will laugh in your face!" annie yells at them, but they're too far away to hear. you stand up, also getting ready to leave, you walk over to abed, planting a kiss on his cheek, "ill see you guys tomorrow, goodnight." you walk out, still close enough to hear troy say, "tell me everything. right now." to abed and annie whine "guys!! thats gross!! come on...." you chuckle to yourself and get in your car.

i hope everyone liked it!! im still kinda new to writing so be nice pls!

[satantica]

Omg omg I love your writing. May i please order a cup of preferably tendou, ushijma or tsuki with an s/o who randomly decides to ask them what their bodycount is and then gets upset when it’s a lot ;( like their s/o asks them about their past hookups and they’re like 12 or something and their s/o gets all pouty and teary eyed cause they don’t like the thought of someone else touching them in an intimate manner. SORRY IF THIS IS TOO DETAILED OML

thank you so much for this request!<3 because it was actually a challenge to write something like this about the characters who act beyond our canon expectations. love that!

characters: ushijima wakatoshi, tendou satori

ushijima wakatoshi

• actually it was absolutely reasonable for you to be sure that you are wakatoshi’s first

• so when you ask him about his bodycount you are utterly shocked to hear ushijima after some thinking say “ten”

• initially you think that’s a joke. apparently, it can’t be that much. it was your cute, innocent toshi after all. the one that doesn’t talk much, the one that doesn’t get along with people easily, the one that doesn’t show his affectionate and caring side to everyone

• you can’t help it but start thinking about every time some girl got flirty and over the line with your toshi. how she 'accidentally' touched his arm, playfully called out his name and then mischievously pulled the hem of his shirt

• you can feel the disgust filling up your body as the imaginary girl and ushijima get too intimate in your thoughts. then they get to the point that you were hesitating to even think about in your relationship

• you try to make these despicable thoughts go away. but it only gets worse and worse and more detailed. you don’t even notice how your eyes become full of tears

• when wakatoshi sees your confusion and bewilderment he starts to explain in the calm voice. but as soon as he catches your eyes be weirdly shining with tears he rushes towards you and murmurs in the most gentle way possible

• it’s odd to hear such a deep voice like toshi’s be sweet and hoarse. he was always saying that he’s not very good with the right words. but now when you are clearly not able to hear him, you sense that he’s saying the most precious things just to reach you

• as you start to wipe your face intensely, you feel his big hands carefully take your face. “angel.” you meet his golden brown eyes looking right into yours softly. he caresses your hair mindlessly as if trying to lull you to sleep. and that actually comforts you.

• you’re still crying, though. not as much as earlier but more like a defensive reflex. and this is when toshi continues to speak. “i’ve never had feelings for any of them. not the kind i have for you.”

• you can tell by the his heavy look that this is the very truth. and you really want to believe that. but when he embraces you, you feel a steady beat of his heart. that’s the moment when the horrible image in your head is withdrawn.

tendou satori

• tendou’s personality is the brightest thing on this planet and there can be no dispute. so you haven’t really thought that about him having sex with someone. ever. well, actually, maybe one or two times

• so when he says “about thirteen” you can’t manage to keep your face straight and emotionless. you try to come back to your senses and act more careless but your whole body doesn’t really respond

• you start convincing yourself that this shouldn’t be a surprise. after all, it’s okay for such a lovely person like tendou to be desirable. however this thought doesn’t help much

• you’ve always thought that only you shared this special connection. and maybe it is the truth. but thinking about someone else wanting satori and him not resisting isn’t the most reassuring argument. you don’t hold back and let the tears fall right on the table where you were sitting.

• satori’s reaction is instantaneous. he’s lurching towards you swiftly and his hands move rapidly all over your body. “sweetheart, hey. hey, hey, hey, hey.” tendou is anxiously searching for a response from you. but that just makes you cry harder

• «love, i didn’t want to make you… i just didn’t think that… i’m sorry, i…” tendou tries to find the right words and panics more at your every sob. but when he finally figures it out

• you feel his lips pressed against yours and it makes your mind blurry. you don’t really remember now what you were so upset about. all you can think now is that how you want more of that kiss. of tendou

• but suddenly the rather pleasure is interrupted. “i’m sorry, princess. i didn’t mean to upset you, i really love you and…” you don’t wait for him to end the sentence and passionately kiss him again. who cares about other girl, when you have satori’s lips next to yours. right now.

[inkdrinkerworld]

idk if you’ve ever seen my mad fat diary but finn reminds me so much of your james that it literally makes me SICK. if you’re interested, i implore you to think about james with a chubby and insecure reader where he basically has to spell it out that he likes them and then reaffirm it with his actions (brings you flowers, sweets, invites you to watch him play rugby, asks you to hang out with your friends). idk if you can work it in but there’s a line where the main character is like “you don’t have to kiss me because you feel sorry for me” and he responds like “i’m not kissing you because i feel sorry for you?? i’m kissing you because i want to” and that with james is so ajhhhhh

I haven’t seen it!!! Cw: insecure chubby!reader, negative self talk

James likes you. He’s liked you since you first transferred to his business class to make up credits for your semester.

He’s made it clear, in his mind, that he likes you by always saving you a seat next to him, and always having flowers on your desk every Monday.

You don’t seem to get it though.

You’re both in a ‘fight’ right now, James had asked you to come to his rugby game with his friends and you had asked him why he goes out of his way to be that nice to you.

“Because I like you,” he’d scratched his head when he said it. “I thought you realized that ages ago.”

You had shaken your head, “You don’t like me James, you think you do. I’m not your type.”

James had frowned after that, insisting you were wrong and you’d scoffed and said something about your being undesirable and James had left you standing in the hallway.

You haven’t answered his apologizing texts for leaving you in the hallway and not walking you back to your dorm.

Your brain hasn’t exactly caught up with the fact that James likes you. It feels unreal. James is fit, he’s got just about every girl on campus flocking to him. Him liking you feels like a cruel joke.

Still, you get off your bed and change into his rugby sweater and a pair of jeans and head to the pitch.

You reach there when they’re warming up and you can tell James is off. His runs aren’t as perfectly timed as they should be and his throws are short.

“James was worried you wouldn’t show.” Remus whispers as he and Sirius come to sit beside you.

You chew your lip and don’t tell them that you’d been thinking about staying home.

“He really does like you doll,” Sirius says and you roll your eyes.

“For now. It’s better for us if we just stay friends. He’ll find someone better to like soon enough.”

Remus tuts, “In James’ mind, there is no one better. He’ll wait for you forever, if that’s what it takes.”

Neither of them say anything after that and you’re left with your thoughts again.

You do like James. You’ve liked James before he started bringing you those flowers every Monday. You’ve liked him before he offered to walk you to your dorm one night and just always did it after that.

He’s easy to like, you come to realise, because he does everything with purpose but also like it’s second nature. Like being near you and making sure you get home safe is something he’s always done.

The game is scrappy and James’ team win by a messy touchdown. Even after the game he’s sulking so you walk down to the pitch to greet him.

“Hi Jamie,” you’re in front of him and even behind the helmet you can tell his eyes widen. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

James takes off his helmet and sets it on the turf. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to get upset, but you can’t speak about yourself like that to me.”

He closes some of the distance between you. “Did you really mean it? Do you really like me?”

James makes a pitying sound in the back of his throat as he hears how uncertain you sound. “Since you sat next to me wearing those silly socks with the bears on them.”

His hands are on your cheeks, cupping them gently. “You’re the most beautiful, kind, gentle, amazing, thoughtful person I’ve ever met. Of course I’d like you.” He confesses and you feel the pinpricks of tears in your eyes.

“I like you too James, but what if you change your mind? What if you find someone else to like this much?”

James scoffs. “There’s no one else. Only you.” His forehead presses against yours and his eyes close.

“You’re it for me,” he says and you gasp.

“James,” he cuts you off.

“I mean it.” He pulls away for a moment. “Can I kiss you now? You’re wearing that cheery lip balm that messes with me head.”

“You don’t have to kiss me because you feel sorry for me.“

James groans, long and drawn. “Baby, you gotta get that mess outta your head. I’m not kissing you because I feel sorry for you. I’ll never kiss you because I feel sorry for you. I’m kissing you because I like you, yeah?”

James waits for your soft, ‘yeah’ and then melds your lips together.

[cosurmqne]

02 — a short life of trouble

[ RDR2 X fem reader , 2310 words ] — previous ✶

“what were you thinking! bringing another woman in here.” “great, another mouth to feed.” “what if she draws more trouble right to us?”

“SHUT UP! all of you. she needs help. last time i checked half of you wouldn’t be standing here today if it weren’t for us taking your sorry asses in.”

the blood stained stranger was laying down in a bed of rough canvas and animal hide, it’s fabric the softest thing she had ever felt after a month of dirt floors and blankets of pine-needles. the distant voices slowly awoke her mind, her eyes opening carefully as the morning sun stung them with its bright beams. how long had she been asleep? she knew it was morning when she was lifted onto a strangers horse, morning still when she slumped onto the mans back out of exhaustion and defeat, not even caring what would happen to her when she awoke or where he was taking her. and yet here she was, still morning? no, the stiffness of her joints suggest at least a full days rest, her legs wobbling slightly as she turned over and placed them on the soft grass beside her.

her hands travelled to her face, expecting the almost familiar texture of dried blood, crusty and flaky, but was met with her soft skin. the edges of her hair and a few tricky spots still had reminisce of blood she could scrape off with her chipped nails, but it seemed someone had wiped her face clean.

her clothes were different too, the blouse and pants she was wearing a size too big but clean and comfortable, her ripped outfit she last remembered wearing folded neatly at the end of her bed and completely pink. she figured someone had tried to scrub them clean, but the redness was impossible to remove.

“good to see you’re finally awake.”

the sudden closeness of a mans voice made her jump and spin around. she was met with a surprisingly kind face of an older man, smiling cautiously and offering a homemade mug in his left hand, the steam and smell suggesting the rare liquid that was coffee. her mouth watered instantly.

“here, it’s for you.” he moved closer, kneeling down next to her bed and placed the warm mug in her stuff hands. “don’t worry, it wont jump out at ya’”

y/n let a small smile escape her lips, “thank you.” she croaked, her voice straining and making her cough slightly. maybe she had been out for more than a day?

as she sipped her drink and let the coffee warm her from head to toe, the man continued. “my names hosea. i’m … i guess you could say i’m kind of a top man around here. just don’t tell the others i’m really in charge …. HA!” he joked and let out a small chuckle, but the woman just looked at him curiously, seemingly frozen still apart from her arms lifting up and down. he guessed he should change his approach ….

hosea cleared his throat, “ahem, well…. you sure gave us a fright earlier on. all that blood on ya, we’d thought dutch brought back a corpse, with you slumped over and all…” with again no response, he continued. “look miss, we’re good people here. well, not really good, but better than most, i can assure you. why don’t we go somewhere a little more private, you can talk to me. tell me how you got into this mess.”

he stood and offered his arm. to y/n’s surprise, she rose and linked her own. while she should never trust a man so easily, her conscience screaming at her for it. but he seemed kind. honest and trustworthy. human. something she hadn’t seen in a long time. besides, she figured if they had wanted her dead, she would be face down in a river by now…

they walked, making a beeline towards the trees in front of them. “what was your name miss?” hosea asked.

“y/n.” she responded.

with her eyes adjusted, bearings found and legs moving again, she let herself scan the area around her. she was in a camp, one that seemed small but … live in? tents, campfires, horses and even a kitchen of sorts was set up. quite a few people were living here, men, women, even a child? she tried avoided the eye contact of the strangers around her, not knowing what mess she could have landed herself into. it seemed a few had stopped their morning chores for a fleeting moment to get a glimpse at her walking past them, pretending to take no notice of her and continuing on whenever she caught their eye. had they been waiting for her to wake up? she guessed she was a stranger sleeping amongst them, concluding she would be just as curious to get a glance at herself as well.

looking around still, she held the gaze of a familiar face, the one she had once pointed a gun towards and one took her to this place. dutch was his name right? hosea beside her seemed to look his way as well, letting out a single tune whistle and pointing his head towards the forest they were heading too. the dark haired man instantly dismissed the two men he was talking to and started coming their way. it was like a shepards call she thought, a codependent understanding that could only be trained with years of practice.

“here, this is a nice spot. i tend to do a lot of thinking here.” hosea said, leading and sitting them both down to opposite logs on soft grassy ground, much greener than the almost dirt floors back at the camp, untouched and unflattened by consistent steps. it looked out over the lake that surrounded the area, but was still thick with trees and streaked with sunlight peeking through the canopy.

the heavy footsteps of dutch became closer, his voice loud and true, “aaah, our celebrity guest, awake at last.”

as he stood before them, y/n rose upright at once, standing stiff and attentive before she could stop herself. she tried to swallow the familiar feeling of guilt like a rock stuck in her throat. “th… thank you.” she let out, quicker than she was intending. “i’d sure be dead and buried if not for you.”

she felt like this needed to said, right then and there. not totally understanding it herself, but knowing that his actions will forever be a debt she could probably never return. she knew from experience and dread that owing someone an unpayable debt was the worst burden to carry, and a feeling she wanted to loosen as soon as possible. a thanks was a start.

dutch just smiled and chuckled, raising his hands up like he did in the forest on their first encounter, “theres no need for thanks, just … take it a day at a time. at ease.”

y/n sat back down, almost embarrassed by her outburst but distracted when hosea spoke up. “dutch here said you had a run in with some o’driscolls. dealt with them pretty well too, where did you learn to shoot like that?”

the woman swallowed, she figured there was no reason to be coy anymore. a voice in the back of her head was yelling out, what are you doing!? you don’t know these men!? they don’t need to know nothin’!? and yet …. she was almost beyond caring about that now.

“my pa taught me,” she admitted, taken aback already by her honesty. “and my brother. he was a lot older than i am, sharp shooter and kept us out of trouble.”

dutch let out a noise, “tsss, some trouble you must have had. not even half my men here couldn’t kill with such efficiency.”

“well, we had a farm up north, a big property. it wasn’t much, just a few horses to sell and trade but it had been with my family for generations. it was home.” she paused. dutch and his partner were sitting opposite her and staring with unbroken attention, seemingly hanging on every word. it threw her off a little but she continued on. “being isolated up there we were bound to run into trouble, usually just some fool trying to swipe a horse, wolves maybe trying to take one for a meal. nothing unusual, but being able to take care of ourselves was a high priority, and my pa taught us well. he made sure we knew how to handle all kinds of trouble…”

“when my brother went and got himself killed down south in the war, it was me who was left in charge, with my father too old and my mother untrained. we got along just fine, until these men keep knocking at our door. harassing us, showing up constantly, trashing our barns, stealing our horses. they wanted us gone, for what reason i couldn’t say … after a few months it was manageable, i’d shot enough of them to make their appearances less frequent… but…”

she had stopped, her throat closing slightly her but no tears threatened to break free. she was thankful, crying in front of these men seemed like the worst scenario. never again would she let a sign of weakness slip from her. she had done her weeping, was done with meekness and dependency. she could tell dutch sensed that about her, while hosea watched her with concern and understanding, he was smirking slightly, like he was seeing straight through to her core.

“but?” dutch pushed her on.

with a tough swallow, she continued. “but… one day when i was collecting water from our well down by the river, i looked back up the to see a pillar of smoke. thick, grey and as high as i’d ever seen. by the time i ran back and got view of our burning home, our barns were pitch black, the horses aflame and running in every which direction, the air orange and almost unbreathable. when i saw the roof of our house collapse completely, i knew it was over. everything inside was destroyed, my parents included….” she cleared her throat. “i had just raced to our shed and grabbed as many guns as i could carry, when i heard men laughing. all those men, probably twenty, who had been coming up to us for months. all here. i realised they must have all been from some sort of gang, and could tell they’d tried to steal as much as they could from us. i knew we had hardly any money in the house, and by the small bad one of them was holding, they’d only managed to swipe no more than 30 dollars …. all that . my home, my family, everything. taken away for 30 dollars….”

she could feel heat rising through her cheeks, hands clenched into fists without knowing and her voice rising. “i guess they weren’t happy with that and decided to make their exhibition worth their time… their laughing stopped as soon as i started shooting. one by one, not even caring to hide or take cover, just wanting them dead. i needed them all dead. i don’t even know or care to remember what happened. a-mist the flames and gunpowder i one jumped me, but id stabbed with him their own knives. i shot though them all like they were no more than the deer i had killed countless times for supper. like it was a necessity, not a murder.”

“wether they were all dead or ran away or lost in the fires, i’d escaped with nothing but what i had on me. for months i’ve been running, not really sure what to do, where to go. stealing food, money, constantly moving and too scared to fall asleep or stay in one spot for longer than a week… i ran into a few more of those men here and there, they seemed to be scouting me. i learnt that they called themselves the o’driscolls and their leader was furious that a woman had outsmarted his men, that a quick robbery had turned into a slaughter. he wanted me dead. still wants me dead i guess…”

“and, this is where we meet?” dutch said, his arms now rested on his knees and hands fidgeting with the large rings on his hands but full attention of her words.

“yes, i’d been running for four days straight, how far i travelled i’m not too sure but i knew they wanted me dead for good. they’d sent a bunch of those irish bastards to me and i was constantly trying to lose them. i didn’t know if i was alive or dead, asleep or awake, i just shot anything that moved, trusted no one and tried to make it to the next sunrise… and yes, thats where you come into the picture and … i guess, now i’m here.”

“well … hell of a time you’ve had.” hosea finally spoke, his sympathetic gaze surprisingly comforting. when he reached out and cupped his hands on her own, she didn’t resist. “you can let your guard down y/n, you’ll be safe here for however long you need. i assure you, we hate those o’driscolls just as much as you do. for every one of those fools shot dead the dirt beneath us gains another worm!” to this, he chuckled to himself, y/n even letting out a small giggle.

dutch joined in with his deep laugh, “oh yes, you will fit in just fine here miss.” he stood up and gestured to the camp behind him, now full of activity. “this gang can be your home now, we’re all misfits and outlaws, once lost and then found again.”

he looked at her not with hoseas sympathy, but with eyes that assessed and schemed, invasive and sharp.

“yes, i think you’ll be just fine…”

[satoruin]

➢ fake it ‘til we make it

pairing: yoichi isagi x gn!reader

summary: your failed confession somehow leads to you fake dating your classmate, yoichi isagi. pre-blue lock

word count: 3.3K

notes from lee: for misha & tired bc i saw them live-blogging abt their bllk manga reading. also i feel so bad for rin, bc i claim he’s my #1 but i write a drabble and fic about his 2 enemies (sae and isagi), he’s gonna make me #3 enemy fr

You were so sure that he would have accepted your feelings. Your body is hot with embarrassment and the gaze of everyone in the hallway. You feel absolutely idiotic right now, bent over holding out a confession letter even after he’s left.

You stand up despite wanting to curl into a ball on the floor and reflexively brush yourself off. You’re in shock and know you can’t cry, not in front of all these people. But the whispers from those who had witnessed your failed confession reach your ears, and you think maybe you will cry in front of them.

You turn to leave, the bell will ring soon, but someone is calling your name loud enough for the hallway to turn their heads. “Hey! (Y/n)!” He’s out of breath and heaving, having run through the crowded hallway to reach you. The ravenette grasps your hands and declares loudly, “I love you! Please go out with me!”

You look down at your hands enveloped in his and then up to his expectant stare with wide eyes. You recognize him. He’s in your class, Yoichi Isagi. Was he really interested in you? He whispers to you, “I’m trying to help you out. Just say yes.”

With a gasp, you seem to put the puzzle pieces together. Isagi is helping you save face. You smile, albeit warily, and respond, “Thank you, Isagi. I’m really flattered that you made such a declaration. I can’t say I return your sentiments, but I’m willing to try.”

He beams, glad that you took his help. “After class, I’ll take you to my favorite place, so please wait for me!” He replies loudly, so everyone can hear once again. You’re still shocked and confused but nod fervently to play along in his scheme.

Isagi walks you to your shared class and pulls out your chair at your desk for you. He tilts his head and gives you a close-eyed smile before he heads to his seat behind yours. As soon as he’s seated, you have people swarming your desk, all asking about your very eventful morning. The bell rings and silences their questions. You give them a brief smile and a helpless shrug as the teacher walks in.

Lunch doesn’t come soon enough. Your classmates are starting to crowd your desk again. Isagi pushes through all of them, grabs your hand, and rushes out of the room with you in tow. You glance back to the door and see your classmates poking their heads out of the doorframe in an attempt to see where Isagi is taking you. He leads you to a staircase at the backside of the building, where only a few people are around.

He lets go of your hand and apologizes, “I’m so sorry. I grabbed your hand without thinking, but you looked uncomfortable earlier. Everyone asked about your morning, and they were going to just now, so I figured this would be better…” The soccer player looks away and blushes while reaching to scratch at his neck nervously.

You bite back a smile at how awkwardly adorable he is. “No, I appreciate it, and this morning too. It’s far less embarrassing since you ‘confessed’ to me,” doing the air quote gesture as you say confess. You don’t pay attention as Isagi turns away with a hand to his face to hide his growing blush. His confession may have been sudden, but it was undoubtedly genuine, not that you ever needed to know.

“Now I’m a little bit less of a loser,” you laugh at yourself before continuing, “You really don’t need to follow through with fake dating me. We can pretend to go on one date and then break up publicly.”

Oh. While Yoichi understood, he wanted to fake date you for just a little while. It would be the closest he would get to actually dating you. “It might be a little unrealistic if we break up so soon. After declaring my love for you, maybe 2 weeks is good? Plus, it will make that loser you confessed to look stupid for turning you down.” He can’t look at you in case you refuse his proposal. So he stabs the rolled omelets packed in his lunch.

“If you don’t mind, then I’m okay with that. I just don’t want to be a bother. I know the soccer team has some important games coming up.” You pick at your own lunch, now somehow nervous about him rejecting you after he had been the one to bring it up.

He wants to shout, you would never be a bother. But he composes himself, though hardly. “You should come to the games and practice. I think it would make it really seem like we’re dating.” Upon saying that, he realizes the many other things he’d like to do with you under the guise of dating. He stares blankly at his food as he imagines walking you home while he holds your hand.

You clap your hands, “We have to exchange numbers! Do you have your phone on you?” Isagi shakes his head. He had left his phone beyond to prioritize you and his lunch. You pull out your phone and open it to the contact before handing it over to him. “I’ll text you, so make sure you save my number.”

He enters his number and name before saving it. He hands it back, but he notices your frown. “Did I do something wrong?”

“I don’t think my boyfriend’s contact name should be just his name. Let me rename it.” You’re too focused to notice how he flushes at you calling him boyfriend. Yoichi waits as you tap your phone and then shove it in his face to show him. You’ve saved his name as ‘Yoi <3’, and he can see the text you’ve sent, ‘hi darling, it’s (y/n)! make sure you save my number’. He’s starting to wonder if you’re deliberately trying to kill him by being adorable.

“It’s almost time to go back, right?” Isagi asks you and stands before offering you a hand to get up. He smiles brightly down at you, and the thought crosses your mind that maybe you won’t mind fake dating him.

It’s been maybe two weeks since you started ‘dating’ Yoichi, and you can say that it’s actually pretty fun. You wait for him after your club is done, or he’ll wait for you when he finishes early; his teammates tease him either way. He walks you to the train station and texts you for homework between the jokes he sends.

Today Isagi has another soccer game that places the team closer to Nationals. Even though he was the one that mentioned that you should come at the beginning of the fake dating, he always tells you that you can go home on the days that he has games.

But over the two weeks of watching his practice and the occasional game, you’ve come to like watching his games. You know nothing about soccer, but he answers your questions, taking time to explain everything and anything you want to know.

You don’t shout for him like the first time you came to one of his games (he ran head-on into one of his teammates and got subbed out soon after), and instead, just watch from the cold metal bleachers. Even during the halftime break, you let Yoichi be so he can focus on winning the game. You know he wants to take the team to Nationals. It’s been a frequent topic of discussion over text and after games when he walks you to the station, so you know just how important every game leading up to it is.

You wait for another 45 minutes as the second half plays out. The score has been tied and stays that way for most of the remaining half. You recognize the different strategies Isagi had pointed out during his practice, the triangle formation as he passes to his teammates and makes a run towards the goal. Seeing the ball rolls into the 18-yard box, you move to the edge of your seat. It’s the most promising chance you’ve seen during this second half as Isagi’s teammate notices the run Yoichi made and passes. Almost effortlessly, he’s able to score. The opposing goalkeeper’s vision is blocked by his defenders allowing Yoichi to shoot the ball right into the top corner.

You cheer, and immediately Yoichi’s head whips around to find you. He smiles and waves with both hands over his head before his teammates clamor around him. The team celebrates the goal and resets to fend off the opposing team as the clock ticks down. You’re not overly anxious about the game itself, but you’re itching for it to end so you can go down and congratulate Yoichi on his game-winning goal.

The referee signals the additional time in the match, and you make your way down the bleachers to reach Yoichi as soon as the game is called. The final whistle blows, and your school’s team rushes the field to celebrate being a win closer to Nationals.

You wait on the sideline for him, not in any hurry to break him away from the team. But he finds you, well, he’s been pushed over by his teammates. He’s sweaty, flushed, and heaving, but still, he has the energy to smile widely at you.

You mirror his smile, aware of the many eyes on you. “I think you’re teaching has been paying off because I can tell you did really good! Congrats on the goal too.”

His teammates ‘ooh’ at your words and make kissy sounds around you. Soon Yoichi is being pushed again so that he’s mere inches away from you as the surrounding members of the soccer team start to chant ‘kiss’. Yoichi tries to tell them off, making excuses that he’s sweaty and it would make for a bad first kiss between you two. The team is relentless though, and the few inches that had been granted before are taken away.

You’re pushed into him with no room to push away. Yoichi’s jersey is sticky with sweat, and his hair sticks to his forehead. He whispers a sorry before he places a hand on your face and kisses you.

His teammates go wild at the display of affection and finally break away to yell about Yoichi getting some. Little do they know there was no kiss.

Yoichi places his forehead on yours, noses almost touching, and sighs like he actually did kiss you. He moves the thumb that impeded your kiss to where his other fingers rest on your face. He whispers, “Sorry. I have to go, but wait for me, and I’ll walk you to the station.” He backs away and goes toward the bench to listen to his coach.

You stand, flustered, as you bring your hand to where Yoichi’s hand has been and feel how hot your cheeks are. But more than anything, you’re wishing he hadn’t put his thumb on your lips.

True to his word, Yoichi walks you to the train station like he always does. He carries your bag and offers up his warm-up jacket since it’s dark, ever the gentleman. It’s a bit awkward on the walk to the station, neither of you wants to address the almost-kiss that happened.

But that doesn’t matter when you reach the train station. “I think we should ‘break up’.” He does air quotes around break up, much like you had when talking about his confession. “It’s been 2 weeks now. I think everyone’s forgotten what happened.”

Oh. This is why he didn’t kiss you.

You feel your stomach sink, but if this is what he wanted then you’d do it. “Oh! I didn’t realize it’d been 2 weeks already. If that’s what you want then sure we can end our pretend relationship.”

He doesn’t say anything, but hands you your bag. Before you grab it, you move to take off his jacket. “You can just give it to me tomorrow.” You stare at him, but he can’t meet your gaze. He stretches his arm further so you can take your bag, clearly, he wants to leave.

“Ok.” You take your bag and as soon as he can feel that you have it, he turns and leaves. Your relationship was fake, so why did it hurt so bad when he asked to break up?

You go home, in his jacket, and wait for a text that never comes. Normally, Yoichi texts to make sure you’ve made it home but the screen doesn’t light up no matter how much you stare at it.

Yoichi’s jacket is draped over your desk chair, the sight of it makes you frown. There are lots of questions you have about what happened and why it happened the way it did, but it wasn’t real which somehow makes it so much worse.

You throw the jacket in the wash, so you can return it tomorrow. You check your phone again, but of course, there’s nothing.

Similarly, Yoichi stares at his phone, thumb hovering over the send button. The text he wants to send is a normal one, something he wouldn’t hesitate to send just yesterday.

The worst thing he thinks about him breaking up with you was the time and space you once occupied in the name of keeping up appearances would be void. Just a few hours later and he’s already missing you.

But Yoichi knew that continuing to fake date you was selfish of him. He’s not selfish, even on the field, but he wants to be. But he doesn’t want to keep you from pursuing someone you genuinely liked, that’s not fair. (Even though he hopes it would be him.)

Though the way you seemed surprised when he told you it had been two weeks, the way you had said ‘if that’s what you want’, even hesitating just slightly to take your bag from him, it meant something, right?

He groans and tosses his phone aside, trying to distract himself from overthinking the situation. He did not need to give himself false hopes and delusions that you were upset over this like he was.

It’s the first time in two weeks that nobody greets you at the front gate. Yoichi is usually at the school early for morning practice and even when the team doesn’t he still arrives early to walk you to the shoe locker.

He’s not in his seat when you enter, so you leave a plastic bag with his folded jacket inside on top of his desk. He comes in unusually late, apologizing to the teacher several times and explaining there had been morning practice.

Some small optimistic part of you wants to think that maybe he would have walked you to the shoe locker had his practice not run late, but realistically you know he’s probably ready to run away like he had at the train station yesterday.

You put your head down on the desk and don’t pay attention to the lecturing of the teacher.

You thought that habits took 30 days to form, so why did 2 stupid weeks affect you this much? It’s been 3 days of school now and you find yourself at every turn looking for Isagi.

When it's time for lunch you instinctively look back to find him so you can have lunch together, but he’s already out the door. You try to suppress the automatic urge you have to find Isagi any time there’s a second of free time in your schedule. But still, you somehow find yourself at the metal bleachers of the soccer field once again.

Once you fully register the automatic decisions your body has made you try to leave. It was awkward enough that Isagi made it a fairly obvious point to avoid you. The metal creaks every time you move, but you try moving slowly to avoid detection.

Luck is not on your side as their coach calls for a water break and the whole team turns to face the bleacher you are currently trying to leave. They all recognize you, after your ‘kiss’ they’d be stupid not to, and so they shout their greetings and call out Isagi for making you wait through the practice.

You sit back down and wave, there’s no way you can leave now. And you don’t want to cause Isagi trouble by having his teammates grill him on a nonexistent relationship. So you wait.

The sun begins to set and practice ends. You wait for Yoichi, so things don’t seem amiss to his teammates. He walks with you wordlessly to the train station like it’s a habit for him too. And you end up at the same spot you did just 4 days ago when he decided to ‘break up’ with you.

You want to apologize for making him walk you to the station, but the way he looks in the blazing orange light seems to make your mouth say all the words your mind is thinking. “I miss you. I miss your texts and greeting you in the morning. I miss eating lunch together. I miss being your friend.” As soon as you say it, you know friend is not the right word, but what is?

“I’m sorry, (Y/n), but I can’t be friends with you.” He leaves the ‘I want to be so much more’ unsaid.

You immediately jump to question him, “Why? Do you not feel this gaping hole of emptiness too?”

“What?” His eyebrows furrow in either shock or confusion, he certainly couldn’t say.

“I’m constantly feeling like I need you by my side. I look for you every single moment of spare time. I want to be close to you, I want to see you, I want to read your texts, and send you homework answers. I want you, Yoichi.” You take a staggered breath in and your heart beats loud in your ears. Oh, you know what word to use now. “Yoichi, I want you to be my boyfriend, for real this time.”

He stays silent longer than you would like, but you stay hopeful. Looking back at your fake relationship there was no way he didn’t reciprocate. All the things he had suggested in the name of appearances was proof enough for you.

“Really?” Is the only thing he asks. You nod vigorously now that you’ve figured out your feelings. A smile starts to make its way into his face, but he brings up a hand to cover it along with the growing blush. He squats and pumps his fist as he shouts, “Yes!”

You’re a bit shocked at his sudden reaction, but happy he’s reacting in such a positive manner. He stands back up again and places his hand on your shoulders. “Do you know how long I’ve liked you? I mean, god, (Y/n), this is-” He can’t even finish his sentence because he’s laughing and resting his head on your shoulder.

You brush your hand over the back of his head, smoothing over the hair. He holds onto the hand as his head snaps up. He looks at you with a soft expression, one you’re sure he did while you fake dated.

“Can I kiss you?” He gives you a lopsided smile before adding, “For real this time.” No doubt teasing you for earlier.

You roll your eyes and grab the collar of his jacket, pulling him close for you to whisper on his lips, “Kiss me.” And he does.

The next day he walks into school with your hand in his.

[puzzledcretin]

It Was Years Ago

(Written for @tmnt-write-fight for @phoebepheebsphibs)

Sorry if you were expecting another iteration, I have Ronin on the brain

Fandom: The Last Ronin (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) Prompt: "When was the last time we did this?" Word Count: 1,271

Read On AO3

“When was the last time we did this?”

The words caught Ronin off guard. All his years of training, all his paranoia, he was still unable to tell when April was sneaking around. She was more of a ninja than he ever was, or he simply let his guard down. Either way, he slowly turned to find the graying redhead standing in the doorway of the torn apart kitchen. 

Ronin hummed, his fingers pinching the small dial of the stove to turn the gas on. 

“When was the last time I was in New York?” He questioned. 

April laughed, weakly, but she laughed. Ronin used to be really good at reading people, emotions were a second language that he knew by heart. The softness of someone else’s feelings, they were smudged and smeared across the pages of his life. 

And yet, as he looked at his old friend, he took note of the wrinkles along her face. Despite the new language barrier, he knew those marks were not made by age alone. 

Ronin focused on sifting through the nearby cabinet for the box of matches he had spotted earlier. For being a bunch of scraps, there were so many damn dishes. Not to mention the darkness, but that was more Ronin’s fault. Trying to avoid the aching in his head that would only be worsened by light. The light and also the low buzzing that came along with old fluorescent lights. 

“I.. Don’t actually know when you were last in New York. I remember I woke up and I was so busy.. I didn’t know where exactly you were. But everyone else was dead, why wouldn’t you be?” April responded as she pushed off the doorframe. She pulled a match from her pocket, swiping it against Ronin’s shell to light it. She held it down to the burner, the flame flickering for a moment or two before catching light. 

“... It’s been over fifteen years since I’ve been..” Ronin’s throat constricts. His body physically rejecting the idea of admitting after all these years-

“Home?” April asks as she plucked the kettle full of water from the sink and placed it on the burner. 

His lips tighten, his neck stiff as he nodded in response. 

Home was always a silly way to put it. Home wasn’t New York, home wasn’t the sewers where he was raised, home wasn’t even in the book he carried around. 

Home died all the way back then when his brothers did, when his father did. When Casey and April..

Ronin paused to look at April. She seemed oblivious to his turmoil, or pretended to be. She made her way over to one of the few cabinets that had doors, pulling down two mugs and a box of old tea bags. Old, yeah, but not old enough that Ronin would recognize them. 

His home was long gone, but as he stood here and watched his old friend move around this kitchen that certainly felt familiar. But, he couldn’t be sure if it actually was or if the sewer was just ingrained enough in his mind. Much like the flame on the stove, seeing April.. Home flickered back to life. Slowly, like a fire deprived of oxygen. 

“So, the last time we did this was over fifteen years ago. Seems like we are due for some time together, don’t you think, Mikey?” April grinned, moving to bump her shoulder against Ronin’s.

“Don’t.. Don’t call me that,” Ronin responded, holding his hand up to lightly push her back for a moment. 

April’s grin faltered, her eyebrows drawing up in concern. Ronin’s eyes stayed focused on the kettle. A watched pot never boils, but he’s witnessed enough impossibilities throughout his long, long life to place a bet that it would be fine. 

“So, you’re abandoning your name?”

It’s a voice that’s been haunting him, one of three. Ronin’s fists clenched at his sides. 

“Seems like he is. I’m not surprised, he’s always had a flair for the dramatics.”

Another voice chimes in, rougher than the first. But he ignores it, has to. Feeding into these voices would be counterproductive to the reality he was trying to engage in now. 

“Well, if you aren’t Mikey, then I guess we’ve never done this before at all. I mean, I’ve never met Ronin before now.” April bounced back, smirking at the large turtle. She leaned back against the stove, along the side where the burner didn’t work anymore. 

“April, that’s not what I’m saying. I just.. How do I associate with that name?” Ronin questioned, lifting his gaze to finally look at April. She stared into his eyes, and with that fierce determination that she always had, she didn’t back down. Gosh, how he missed her. Missed this. 

The last time they did this- Making tea in the kitchen, having a conversation- Ronin was just a child. He was still trying to figure out his place in this world. Was he doing the right thing? Was fighting the route he wanted to take in the future?

And she looked at him then as she looked at him now. Without question, without fear. 

“With confidence.” April filled in his blanks. “You are Hamato Michelangelo. Son of Hamato Yoshi. And you have a mission to carry your family name to the end, do you not?”

“I will bring an end to the Foot Clan, in the name of my family.” Ronin responded, his eyebrows coming together, “But I ran away. I hid. Like a coward, I tried… I dishonored them.” 

As if sensing the tension, the kettle on the stove squealed with steam shooting up from the neck. April shot Ronin a look as she grabbed the kettle handle, bringing it over to the two mugs. 

“You were getting stronger, you couldn’t have done that here. Not with what was going on.” April stated, “What you did was rather smart,”

April gestured for Ronin to move to the small table. Four chairs surrounding a small wooden table that looked like he needed some work. In the center, a medium sized candle burned. Ronin lumbered over, sitting down heavily in the wooden chair. It creaked under his weight, but despite the new strain, it stayed fully intact. 

“It wasn’t by choice, April..” Ronin muttered, his elbows resting on the table. He hung his head, eyes tracing one of the cracks that ran along the grain of the wood. 

“Oh? It wasn’t?” 

April brought the mugs over to the table, pushing the black mug under Ronin’s nose before she moved to sit right next to him. She stirred the tea bag in the hot water for a moment.

“So, someone forced you to train?” April questioned.

“No-”

“Someone held you prisoner and made you get stronger?”

“I mean kind of-”

“Someone made you get all bulky?”

“April! April, I get it, okay? I just.. I feel like I let them down.” Ronin answered. He lifts his head, hands coming around the warm mug. But he stared at the liquid as color slowly seeped out of the bag. “I worry I let them down.”

“No, I know your brothers. I know your father. You’ve only ever made them proud.” April decided. “You’ve made me proud.”

Silence hung between them, the flame of the candle bouncing around on the wick. But the silence was warm, it was familiar. And truly? It felt like home. 

“... The last time we did this was over fifteen years ago,” Mikey spoke softly, leaning over to rest his head on April’s shoulder. 

“How the years fly by,” April responded, bringing her mug up to her lips.

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 6

As time passes, your relationship with Joel changes and sometimes, life has other plans. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-5 found here on Tumblr.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Length: 4.3k

Warnings: Mention of suicide and a suicide attempt, depiction of a panic attack, light smut, no use of Y/N. 18+ Minors DNI

August, 2000

In all honesty, you were surprised your baggage had held off as long as it did. 

You’d been dating Joel for a few months the first time your anxiety became an issue. It had been so much better when you were with him that you’d almost thought you were cured of it. Almost. 

It wasn’t anything new. You generally managed it well, planning ahead where you could, showing up everywhere a few minutes early, over-prepared for tests. With enough thinking and work, you could hide it. Take care of it yourself. It wasn’t something you talked about with anyone and it definitely wasn’t something you wanted Joel to know. 

But that was before back to school shopping day. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen the mall this packed,” you frowned as Joel looked for a parking space. “Even at Christmas it wasn’t this bad.” 

“That’s tax free shopping weekend for you,” he sighed. “Like this every year.” 

You dug your nails into your thigh. You didn’t do well in crowds. Joel frowned. 

“You OK?” He asked. 

“Fine,” you smiled tightly. He looked skeptical but jumped on a parking space as someone else pulled out. 

“Alright kiddo,” Joel looked in the rear view mirror. “We’re staying’ focused. School clothes only, OK? Gotta meet the dress code rules. We’re not here for posters or toys or books, school clothes are the mission.” 

“Can we go to Dairy Queen if I only look at school clothes,” Sarah’s face was very serious. 

“I will consider Dairy Queen if we only look at school clothes,” Joel said. 

“Yes!” Sarah punched the air in victory and you smiled. Maybe everything would be fine. You’d never dealt with crowds with them before. Everything was better with them. So maybe this would be fine. 

It wasn’t. 

You lasted through the first few stores, anxiety getting worse the tighter the crowds got. But Sarah really wanted your opinion on clothes, the glittery t-shirts and matching jeans and you really wanted to give her something more to go on than Joel’s “Looks great, baby girl.” 

“This or the pink one?” She asked, coming out of the fitting room in a purple shirt. You tried to focus on something besides the press of people hovering at the back of the store. It was hot, hard to breathe. You swallowed. 

“I think the sleeves on that one are better,” you said. “You get cold in the air conditioning at school so you might want more coverage than the pink one. Both are cute though!” 

She crinkled her nose. 

“I think this one,” she said. “This was the last one here, I just need to get changed.” 

Someone bumped into you from behind, sending you stumbling into a woman next to you. 

“Watch where you’re going!” She snapped at you. 

“Sorry,” you said quickly, chest getting tight. You grabbed Joel’s arm. “I’ll be outside.” 

He frowned down at you. 

“You OK?” 

“Fine,” you said quickly. “I’m fine, just need air…” 

You didn’t wait for him to respond, you just all but ran for the entrance to the store, working your way through the crowd as best you could. 

But out in the mall wasn’t much better. You tried to breathe, the air feeling thick in your chest, legs wobbly. You made it to a corner that wasn’t as crowded, near the bathrooms, and all but collapsed into it. Your chest got tighter and you tried to breathe through it. 

The first time you’d had a panic attack was about 10 years earlier and you thought you were dying. Your grandmother had held you, helped you breathe through it, kept you grounded. Dealing with them alone was a lot harder. 

You sank down the wall, pulled your knees into your chest and pressed your forehead against them, closing your eyes. You weren’t quite sure how long you sat there like that when you heard Sarah over the dull roar of people. 

“Dad!” She yelled. “Found her!” 

You wanted to look at her, say something reassuring but you couldn’t make yourself move. “Hey Baby,” Joel’s arm went around you. “Woah, OK… What’s goin’ on?” 

You tried to get enough breath to talk but you couldn’t seem to make it happen. 

“Sarah,” he said quickly. “Run to the ladies’ room and get a damp, cold paper towel, OK?” 

“I’m fine,” you managed, almost choking on it. 

“No you’re not,” he said, tugging you against his side. “But I’ve got you, Baby. It’ll be OK.” 

A cool cloth pressed into your neck and you latched onto the feeling of it. It was cold, that you knew. Joel’s arms around you were strong, you knew that, too. The stone floor below you was hard. You took a deep breath. You could smell the lavender of your body spray, the calming pine sawdust smell of Joel, the cinnamon from the pretzel stand not too far from you. Joel kept saying “I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” somehow drowning out the noise of people. 

“Sarah,” he said after a minute. “You’re on bag and key duty, you got that?” 

“Yup,” she sounded confident. Your heart sank. You didn’t want to drag her into your crap, she was just a kid…. 

“We’re gonna get you out of here Baby,” Joel’s voice was calm. You pulled your head from where it had been buried in your arms and knees. Everything seemed oddly bright. It took a second for your eyes to adjust. “Think you can walk?” 

You thought for a moment. Your legs felt shaky but you could feel your legs, which was a good start. 

“Yeah,” you managed. 

“Here we go,” he pulled you up with him, holding you tightly against his side. Your legs felt like Jell-o but you stayed on your feet. “See, you’re OK Baby, I’ve got you…” 

You were thankful that you could at least walk. It was a little less mortifying that Joel wasn’t stuck carrying you out of the mall. If someone didn’t look too closely, you might just look like a clingy girlfriend. That was better. 

Joel helped you into the truck before climbing in himself. He pulled out his cellphone and pressed some buttons. 

“Hey Tommy, need a favor,” he said. “Can you take Sarah tonight? Something came up… Thanks. Yeah, I’ll drop her off in a bit.” 

“You don’t…” you started, voice oddly scratchy but Joel cut you off. 

“Already done.” 

Joel drove straight to Tommy’s, getting out of the car with Sarah and spending a minute talking with them both at the front door. There was a knot in your stomach, replacing the tightness in your chest that had overwhelmed you at the mall. This was it, you were getting dumped. 

You’d never really had a boyfriend before but you were pretty damn sure they weren’t huge fans of women who couldn’t keep it together enough to go shopping. And Joel wasn’t about to dump you in front of his daughter. You tapped your foot, nervous energy needing somewhere to go. Joel got back in the car. 

“How we doin’?” He asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Fine,” you said. 

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m not doin’ that.” 

“Doing what?” You frowned. 

“Where you lie to me about how you’re feeling,” he said. “You said you were fine earlier, you weren’t fine. How are you actually doing.” 

“Fine enough.” 

He sighed but drove the car to his house. You were surprised for a moment and it must have shown on your face.  

“Figured we’d not have you taking the stairs for a bit,” he said. He got out of the truck and went around, opening your door and helping you down. You were more stable on your feet now but leaned into his side anyway. If he was about to dump you, you were going to take what you could get. He led you to the kitchen and sat you down at the table before going and getting a tall glass of water, setting it in front of you. 

“Drink that,” he said, voice a little stern. You watched him cautiously but obeyed, not realizing how thirsty you were until you were chugging it. You set the empty glass down and he got up and refilled it, putting it back in front of you again. You drank half of that glass, too, before putting it back on the table. You just looked at him from across the table. 

“If you’re going to break up with me, can you get it over with?” You asked eventually. He looked taken aback. “Really, it’s OK. I get it. But I don’t want to drag it out, just do it like a band-aid, OK?” 

“Why in the world would I be dumping you?” He looked completely confused. You frowned. 

“Because I couldn’t even handle going to the mall today?” You asked more than answered.

“What the fuck difference does that make?” He asked. You didn’t really have an answer. “Baby, I love you whether you can go to the damn mall or not, you think I give a shit about that?” 

You just blinked for a moment. 

“What?” He asked. 

“You said you love me,” you said quietly. 

“‘Course I love you,” he said it like it was obvious. “Did you think I didn’t?” 

“You’ve never said it,” you said. “I didn’t… You just hadn’t said it, so…” 

“Oh,” he said after a moment. “Well. I love you. Head over heels for you. Don’t think much is going to change that.” 

You smiled and took a sip of water. 

“You haven’t said it either,” he said. 

“I was kind of waiting for you,” you half smiled. “Didn’t want to be the silly kid gushing at you. But I do.” 

“Do what?” 

“Love you,” you blushed as you said it. “Probably to an unhealthy degree. Not sure, I’m not a doctor.” 

He laughed once. 

“Well, Baby, I ain’t goin’ anywhere,” he said. “So want to tell me what happened today?” 

You sighed, biting your lip for a moment. 

“Remember when I said I had things that made it so I’m not exactly a dream to deal with?” You asked. 

“Figured you meant your smart mouth,” he smiled a bit. “Guessin’ there’s a bit more to it.” 

“One of those things is anxiety,” you winced as you said it. “I can usually handle it just fine. It’s not that bad. But crowds… I don’t know what it is but they freak me out. They’re just so loud and chaotic and you can get caught up in them and not know where you’re going… That doesn’t happen very often. It’s only the second time since I came to Texas and the first time was before I knew you.” 

He nodded slowly. 

“How long has that been happening?” He asked. 

“About 10 years.” 

“Anything that helps?”

“What you did today helped a lot,” you smiled a little. “You gave me something to focus on, which helps. Made me feel safe.” 

He nodded again. 

“I can do that,” he said. “I want to do that. Take care of you. Make you feel safe.” 

You smiled. No one had ever wanted to do that for you before. 

“You said it was one of the things,” Joel said after a minute. “Want to tell me the others?” 

You winced. 

“You don’t have to,” he said, watching you closely. “But I’m still not goin’ anywhere. And I want to know how to help you if you need it.” 

You bit your lip and sighed. 

“I’ve never really told anyone this,” you began. “And you already know a little of it, but you might not remember.” 

“Try me,” he said. 

“Remember the night we first…” you trailed off, brows raised. 

“Not about to forget a damn thing about that night,” he replied. You laughed a little. 

“I told you about my friend Becca who died when we were 16?” You asked more than said. He nodded once. “She didn’t just die, she killed herself. And I… Well, I tried to go with her.” 

Joel sat up, almost jumping out of his chair before sitting back down. 

“We’d both been bullied at school,” you said. “She’d been dating a guy who started a rumor that he’d slept with her and me when they broke up. It got rough for a while and one day she went home and…” 

You took a drink of water. 

“It wasn’t the only thing,” you continued. “I had… issues for a bit already. And it just felt like everyone was leaving me. I didn’t feel like I had a reason to really try… Anyway. That’s what the scar on my side is. I overheard someone telling my grandmother how Becca did it and how it almost didn’t work, I wanted something that seemed more certain but I didn’t really know what I was doing. My grandmother found me. Pulled me out of school for a bit. I still finished on time with good grades because I had some really great teachers who worked with me.”

“You don’t…” Joel paused. “Seem like someone…” 

“I know,” you smiled a little. “And I’m a lot better now than I was then, but I still have some rough patches. I just never want anyone to feel as bad as I did, you know?” 

He got up and knelt in front of you, a hand going around the back of your neck and pulling your forehead down to his own. 

“It ever gets bad, you talk to me,” his eyes were locked onto yours. “Don’t do it alone, you understand me?” 

“I’ve never told anyone that,” you said softly. 

“Tell me,” he said. “Always tell me. OK?” 

“OK.” 

***

May 2001 

Joel was pretty sure your grandmother didn’t like him much. 

She was polite enough when you were around but otherwise - like sitting in the stands for your graduation ceremony - she’d basically ignored him, only talking to Sarah and the people around them. 

“Do I have time to go to the bathroom?” Sarah asked as they sat waiting for the ceremony to start. Joel checked his watch, one you’d taken Sarah to buy for his birthday in September. She’d been very proud, picking it out on her own, stashing it away without his knowledge. 

“You’ve got 7 minutes,” he said. “Can you find it on your own?” 

“Dad, I’m 11,” she rolled her eyes, getting up to go without actually answering his question. He watched her leave, trying to stretch out awkwardly in the stadium seat he was stuck in. 

“I remember that age,” your grandmother smiled. “It doesn’t get easier.” 

“So I’ve heard,” Joel smiled. “I know I’m in for it once she gets to her teens.” 

“Wasn’t that long ago that I had a teen at home,” she glanced his way before looking back to the stage. Joel sighed. So this conversation was happening here. 

“Been a few years,” Joel replied. She actually turned to face him. 

“She’s a sweet girl, Mr. Miller,” she said. 

“Joel,” he replied. “And I know she is.” 

“Too sweet to see what she’s doing with you,” she continued. 

“And what’s that?” He asked, clenching his jaw. 

“You’ve got my granddaughter playing house with you at 22 years old,” she leaned across Sarah’s open seat, fire in her eyes. “She’s too young and too infatuated with you to know she doesn’t want to be a mother to a girl who’s half her age.” 

“I’m not asking her to be Sarah’s mother,” he said, doing his best to keep his temper under control. “I’m not asking her for anything.” 

“You’re asking her to give up her future, whether you know that or not,” she snapped. “She is so smart, far smarter than me or her mother, and she’s going to throw it all away so she can be close to you, I can feel it.” 

“I don’t want her to give up anything,” Joel said. “I wouldn’t ask her to give up anything…” 

“That doesn’t matter,” she said. “She’s already talking about maybe staying here…” 

“She can teach here.” 

“Can she go to grad school here?” She asked. Joel opened his mouth to respond but she wound’t let him. “While she’s fitting herself into your life?” 

Joel didn’t have anything to say. 

“You seem like a decent enough man, Mr. Miller,” she said, looking back toward the stage. “I just don’t want you anywhere near my granddaughter. She deserves more than this.” 

Joel watched you walk the stage, screaming and cheering with Sarah. You found them in the crowd and waved. You were glowing and he was worried your grandmother was right. 

You slept over at his house the night you took your grandmother to the airport, Joel sinking into your warm, soft body, holding you as close and tight as he could until he emptied himself into you. 

“Is everything OK?” Your fingers traced his chest. “That felt… different.” 

“Are you sure this is the right thing for you?” He asked softly. You frowned. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Bein’ with me,” he said. “I know you were talking about finding a teaching job here but I don’t want you doing things different because you’re with me. I want you to live your life…” 

“You’re a part of my life,” you said. “You, Sarah… You’re some of the most important people in the world to me. I want to be where you are.” 

“I don’t want you giving things up for me,” he brushed your hair back. 

“Who said you’re the only draw here, Miller,” you teased him. “I don’t think I can just go back to the frozen north now, I’ve become accustomed to a different climate. Austin is just stuck with me. You can be along for the ride or not.” 

“Guess I’m in then,” he kissed you, smiling against your mouth. “Can’t leave Austin to fend for itself against you.” 

July 2001

You were pacing when Joel got home from work. Sarah was blasting some kind of pop music from her room and you seemed beside yourself. 

“Baby,” he said, heading right for you the second he was in the door. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?” 

“I heard from my grandmother today,” you were tapping your phone against the palm of your hand. 

“How’s she?” He asked after a moment. 

“Joel,” your voice cracked. His heart dropped. “She has cancer.” 

It was a late night. In just a day you’d gone from talking about moving into his house when your lease was up to making plans to move you across the country. Your grandmother needed to stay with her doctors in New York, Joel needed to stay with the business in Austin. You were stuck. 

You got a job teaching at a school not far from where you grew up and Joel helped you plan for the move. He insisted on driving you up himself, his truck loaded with what little you were taking back with you, him helping you sell your car before you left (“Baby, that thing is not making it to New York.”) 

“You’re sure you want to do this?” You were sitting outside with him on his last night in your hometown. The stars were bright here, the countryside quiet. “Long distance is shitty.” 

“I’m in if you are,” he replied. “I don’t want to hold you back…” 

“Will you stop worrying about holding me back?” You shook your head at him. “I know what I want. Please trust me on it.” 

“Then I’m in,” he looked at you. 

“Me too.” 

He made love to you on the grass in the dark, quiet and slow, committing as much of you to memory as he possibly could. 

*** 

June 2002 

“Joel!” 

You ran for him the second you saw him come through the security checkpoint, hurtling yourself at him. He caught you, clutching you close to him, your arms and legs wrapping around him. 

“I missed you,” you kissed his cheek, his neck, his shoulder, everything you could reach. “I missed you so much…” 

He’d come to New York, just him for a few days. You’d gotten a hotel room and tickets to Letterman. You hadn’t seen each other in months, long distance being harder than you’d ever thought it would be. 

You were happy you were there to take care of your grandmother. You liked teaching. It was challenging but satisfying. You’d made friends with one of your fellow science teachers - Louisa - who had a girl Sarah’s age which just made you miss Joel and Sarah even more. You talked daily but not being able to see him, touch him was taking its toll. 

He’d called you on the morning of 9/11, Joel being the one to tell you what was happening and to turn on the TV. That night, you sat in silence on the phone, watching the footage over and over, wishing he was next to you. You didn’t know what was going to happen next. The world felt uncertain and scarier than it had ever been and all you wanted was Joel beside you when it all came crashing down. But he was a country away and you hated it. 

He released you, setting you down but still holding you close, kissing you hard. 

“Please tell me the hotel is close,” he said, voice desperate. “I need you…” 

You barely made it in the door before he was ripping your clothes off and slipping into you with a satisfied moan. The tickets for Letterman were the next night. You barely made it. 

Sarah joined you a few days later, her thrilled to have made her first plane trip solo. The three of you took a hiking trip, getting eaten alive by mosquitos and eating burned marshmallows. You felt like a family. You loved every second of it. 

July 2003 

“I’m not ready to go back,” you sighed, sipping your coffee by the pool in Joel’s backyard. 

“I know,” he said softly. 

“Next year,” you looked at him. “If Nan’s still in remission…” 

“We can talk about it when the time comes,” he said, taking a sip of coffee. 

“I don’t want to be away from you anymore,” you said. “I don’t care what it takes, I need to be with you.” 

“I can’t let you blow up your life for me, Kid,” he looked over at you, clenching his jaw. “You’ve been teaching up there two years already…” 

“And I’m take correspondence classes to make my bio degree a pre-med degree,” you cut him off. “I’m already changing careers.” 

“Should you really be limiting med school choices to Austin?” He asked. 

“You saying you think I’m not smart enough to get into UT again?” You teased. 

“I’m sayin’ you’re smart enough that Harvard should be beaten’ down your door and you should let ‘em,” he replied. 

“Harvard’s overrated,” you shrugged. 

“Kid,” he sighed. 

“I know what I want, Joel,” you cut him off. “Unless you want something different…” 

“I’ll always want you, Baby,” he said. 

“Then let me worry about where I’m going to med school,” you said. “You worry about being up to snuff on your flash card quiz skills.” 

“My girl the doctor,” he smiled a little. 

“You really think I can do it?” You asked after a moment. 

“Know you can, Doc.” 

You got in the pool, Joel joining you. You wrapped your legs around him and he held you tight against him, nudging your swimsuit aside and freeing his cock, sliding inside your warmth slowly, gently. You moaned and kissed him as he softly worked your clit. Everything was slow and aching. You could feel every part of him inside of you, every detail as you rose and fell over him, holding him deep within you. 

“I love you,” he whispered, breathless, as he pressed so deep into you it almost hurt. You felt him cum, his pulsing triggering your orgasm. You felt every part of him he left inside you, your body holding onto him, almost like it somehow knew it would be the last time. 

August 2003 

“I just don’t think I can keep doing this, Baby.”  

“Joel,” your voice cracked as you stared up at your ceiling. “Please…” 

“It’s too hard,” he said. His voice was flat. “Maybe in a few years, if we’re in the same place again… hell, even the same time zone…” 

“I can visit more,” you were begging. It was pathetic. You didn’t care.  

“Not with your work and class schedule,” he said. 

“If this is because you think you’re holding me back…” 

“It’s not,” he said. “It’s just too stressful for me, too hard on Sarah. I’m spendin’ all my time on the phone with you to try and make up for not seein’ ya and it’s not fair to her.” 

You were quiet. Anything else you could argue with. You couldn’t argue with doing something for Sarah’s sake. 

“OK,” you said, trying to hold off on crying until you were off the phone. 

“I appreciate your understanding,” there was no emotion in his words at all. They were hollow. 

“I’ll always love you, Joel,” you said softly. “Til the day I die.” 

“I know, Kid.” 

You cried yourself to sleep for days. You’d never felt more empty. It took all your effort to go set up your classroom the next week and get all your supplies together. 

Life, you reminded yourself, had to keep moving. 

September was around the corner.