#they are opening the state fair this weekend

[imwritesometimes]

I'll believe it when I see it

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

despite assumptions and stereotypes, steve harrington actually doesn’t love dating around. sure, he does it and at the end of the night if someone wants to go a little bit further, who is he to say no? he’s only a man, after all.

but steve and eddie have been… doing whatever they’ve been doing for a couple of months now and steve wants more. when steve finds what he wants, he holds on tight with everything he has. but this time is a little different. eddie’s made it pretty clear that he’s not exactly looking for anything serious. steve’s pretty sure eddie likes him, but he’s not sure that affection goes far beyond that thing he can do with his tongue.

which sucks. steve’s still gun-shy from what happened with nancy and tommy and jonathan back in high school. he hasn’t felt this way abt anyone in a pretty long time and it just sucks that eddie’s only interested in coming over at 3 in the morning. steve wants to go to the drive-in and to the state fair and out to lovers lake for stargazing. he wants dates and sleepy make out sessions and movie nights on saturdays.

but steve likes eddie so he’ll take whatever eddie’s willing to give him. he knows it might make him pathetic or whatever, but he’s accepted it. it’s fine. he’s just waiting for the day eddie stops showing up, for the day that eddie looks at him and tells him enough is enough, that it’s been fun and all but eddie’s on to bigger and better things.

saturday nights are the worst. steve knows eddie plays the hideout almost every weekend and steve’s left to sit home alone thinking about what eddie might be getting up to out at the dive bar. he knows what eddie looks like when he performs, knows how beautiful he looks in the low lights. he’s seen the way the audience looks at eddie while he’s on stage, grinding his hips into his guitar. it makes steve’s stomach hurt just thinking abt it. and sure, more often than not, eddie comes crawling into steve’s window in the late hours after his show ends, sweaty and smiling, high on adrenaline. those are steve’s favorite moments, the moments when he gets to kiss the look of triumph off of eddie’s face, when he gets to watch that look get replaced by a look of pure pleasure. but one day, probably soon, eddie won’t come crawling through his window and steve will be left alone in the worst case scenario.

so when a customer at family video gives steve a look, smiling, and asks him if he’s busy this saturday, steve can’t really find a reason to blow him off. the guy—pete—is dressed in a cut up band tee, his hands in his pockets as he leans against the counter, all cool confidence and charm. steve can’t help but compare him to eddie. but steve doesn’t want to be left in the dust when eddie and dustin and robin all eventually leave this shitty little town, so he agrees to a date. what’s one date gonna do? he knows eddie dates, even though they don’t really talk abt it. it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong.

for the first time ever, steve is the one getting picked up on a saturday night. pete rings the doorbell, leads steve out to his beat up pick up, and even opens the door for steve to slide it. steve feels something a little fuzzy in his chest and can’t help but smile as pete gets into the drivers seat. pete starts up the car and pulls out of the driveway. once they turn out of steve’s neighborhood, pete reaches over to slide his hand into steve’s.

“so i heard abt this pretty cool spot. live music, pool, beer,” pete glances over at steve and squeezes his hand. “you in?”

steve’s breath hitches a little. he’s kind of missed this, the promise of a first date, the magic of things just starting out. it feels even better to be on the other side of it, to have someone else take control. he pushes aside the wish that this was someone else.

“sounds good,” he finally responds, shooting pete a small smile. pete grins.

ten minutes later, they pull into a gravel parking lot and steve’s stomach drops. there aren’t that many bars in hawkins and even fewer places that host live music on the weekends. he should have known, really, that the one place they’d end up is the one place eddie’s guaranteed to be on a saturday night.

i’ve been sitting on this draft since the fall. inspired by rory and logan at that one tarantino party in gilmore girls. heard ao3 was gonna be down for a couple of hours, so here u go lol awkward spot to land on but part ii to come :P encourage me to finish this…

[vivwritesfics]

(Oh My God) They Were Roommates

Chapter Five - One Step Further

Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.

1.4K

Warnings: blowjob, masturbation, cum swallowing

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Lando Norris was incredibly frustrated.

It wasn't fair, that he had to live with her, in this perpetual state of frustration because she was comfortable enough to walk around in pyjama shorts now.

It wasn't fair, the way she sat almost close enough to touch but he couldn't. He wasn't fair, the way her shirt rode up, revealing everything when she reached for something in the kitchen.

He had to do something about it, because he was suffering.

As he was racing on the sim, on his shitty set up, there was a knock on the door. Y/N pushed it open, holding the doorframe as she leaned forward, into the room. "Want something to eat?" She offered and Lando ended his race several laps early.

He followed her into the kitchen and she passed him a plate of whatever she had made. The two of them sat on the sofa, watching a mindless sitcom as they ate.

This was their normal.

Except, Lando couldn't stop himself from watching her. Shit, she was something else. But Lando didn't want to make any mistakes. As soon as he had eaten, he was back in his bedroom, crashing his McLaren on the sim.

Y/N looked towards his bedroom door, which was partially open, whether he knew it or not, she didn't know.

But she got on with her evening, having a shower, cleaning her teeth and getting into bed.

Oddly enough, the only time Y/N slept well was during a race weekend. When she should have been out of her mind with anxiety, she slept like a baby.

But, in her apartment, she couldn't sleep. She could hear everything from Lando's bedroom, his angry shouts as he gamed, even though he was loud, they were somewhat comforting and did help her to sleep.

This time, though, it wasn't the gaming she was hearing. She knew exactly what it was, but she didn't let it phase her.

There comes a time most nights where Y/N would notice how little she had to drink that day. She was an athlete, staying hydrated was important. But it was so easy to forget to drink, especially with how busy she was.

She pulled herself from beneath the warmth of her covers and walked towards the kitchen. She reached into her cupboard and pulled a large mug from the cupboard.

As she filled it with water, she couldn't hear anything from Lando's room.

But then, as she sipped, she turned on her heel as she sipped the water, and nearly spat it out.

There he was, head thrown back as he gripped his cock. His eyes were shut as he pumped his hand up and down his length and, if she was just a little closer, she was sure she would have heard him moaning.

She placed her water onto the kitchen table and moved closer to his bedroom door, trying to get a better look. She leant against the doorframe, keeping herself hidden from sight.

Not that Lando would have seen her. His eyes were squeezed shut, throat bobbing as he swallowed around his moans.

From her place by the door, she could hear what he was moaning, hear as her name left his lips in breathy moans. "Holy fuck, Y/N," she heard his whisper, gripping himself tighter.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she took a brave step forward into Landos room. He seemed to hear it as the door squeeked open and the floorboards creaked under her weight.

"Holy fuck, Y/N!" He cried, although his time it wasn't sexy.

With a panicked look in his eye, Lando rushed to turn away from her, to hide his erection. "What the hell are you doing?" He hissed, unable to hide his embarrassment.

But Y/N didn't seem to care. As if in a trance she walked over to him and grabbed a hold of his gaming chair, turning it to face her. She continued looking in his eyes as she got down onto her knees and placed her hands on his thighs.

"W-what're you doing?" He asked again, his voice shaking.

There was no resistance as she pulled his hands away from his erection, letting it spring free. "Are you okay with this?" She whispered, reaching towards him.

Lando nodded his head, letting out a breathy confirmation. His eyes followed her as she reached towards him, her fingers wrapping around him. She pumped her hand once, twice, and moved her face forward, licking him.

He let out a shuddering breath as she wrapped her lips around his tip, swirling her tongue around him. She sucked, just the tip, and Lando uncontrollably bucked his hips, trying to get her take more of him into her mouth.

She obliged, taking him further into her mouth. Her eyes shut for a moment as she choked on his length, but she pushed through it, determined to bring him pleasure. She pulled back, staring into his blue eyes and she licked him again, her tongue following the vein.

"Fuck me, don't stop," he said, his head thrown back as he reached for her head, holding her head as she sucked him again.

Her eyes were shut as she continued to suck, bringing him closer to the edge. Lando couldn't stop himself from lacing his fingers through her hair, moving her up and down as he bucked his hips forward, out of the chair.

Drool ran down her chin as she continued, her hand moving at his base, working in tandem with her mouth. "Fuck, I'm gonna..."

He held her hair, trying to pull her off of him, but Y/N stayed where she was. She continued to suck, bringing him to orgasm.

She held him in her mouth as he came, spilling onto her tongue. Releasing him, Y/N met his gaze, staring at him as she swallowed. "I..." Lando began, but no words came out.

Standing up, Y/N brushed off her now aching knees and left the bedroom. She closed the door behind her, grabbed the mug of water from the table, and walked into her own bedroom.

With her bag against the door, Y/N let out a breath. Holy fuck. Holy fuck, had that really just happened?

He was her roommate, her fucking teammate, and she had just sucked him off. She'd watched him, listened as he moaned her name, and she'd joined him. She'd swallowed his fucking cum.

It was a line that never should have been crossed, but they had crossed it. It should have been mortifying, but she had loved it, every minute of it. She wanted to do it again.

Before she walked over to her bed, Y/N opened her door slightly. She threw off her clothes as she sauntered over to her bed and crawled under the covers, her fingers travelling down to her cunt.

***

"You did what?!"

It was the early hours of the morning and Lando was out at the gym with his trainer. Y/N hadn't said hello to him that morning, but she'd watched through the crack in her bedroom door as he left the apartment.

As soon as he was done, Y/N sat against her bedroom door and called her best friend. She chewed on her nails as she waited for her best friend to pick up.

"What's up love?" Her friend asked.

Y/N gave her a rundown of everything that had happened the night before, leaving out some of the more intimate details. Even when she had said it, it didn't feel real, didn't feel like it had actually happened.

When she was finished, her friend let out a laugh. "No fucking way," she said, her hand clamped over her mouth. "You're not serious. You actually sucked off Lando?"

"It's not funny!" Y/N insisted. "What the hell am I going to do?"

"Well, what do you want to do?" Her friend asked slowly, carefully. "Like, do you want to forget it ever happened? Or, do you... want it to happened again?"

Y/N swallowed thickly. How was she ever meant to admit that she wanted it to happen again? He was her teammate, her rival, her roommate.

"Okay, well I got a plan," her friend said, knowing her answer. "Listen closely," she said and Y/N did just that.

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[brewed-pangolin]

Imagine what a menace Soap would be with these

Challenged Territory

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader

18+ MDNI Explicit Smut, P in V, Soap getting all territorial over silly bruises, cue the Scottish bear

Synopsis: You play a round of rapid fire which ends with a quick session. But those bruises forming ignite the primal side of Soap and he takes it upon himself to mark you as his own

Okay. Call me crazy but I'm for damn sure Soap MacTavish puts play dates down on the calendar.

Just like date nights, movie nights, and camping weekends. Play dates are a must to keep the relationship fresh and full of vigor, especially when he's gone for extended periods of time.

And these little blasters are right up his alley.

But he'd want a fair fight, so expect to be taken to the range a few times to perfect that aim and steady your hand.

Once he's satisfied with your skill level, all hell breaks lose and he ain't holding back.

Your only indication that he's put the game into play will be your blaster on your bedside table. With him already staking out his perfect sniping position as you mentally prepare for the fire fight about to ensue.

And it always ends the same way. Both naked, breathless, and entangled on the living room floor as you tally up who got the most shots to the ass.

And those circular bruises growing on your flesh are nothing compared to the reddened handprint plastered on your left butt cheek.

--

"You can't count-, those slaps-, as hits, Soap," you muttered. A groggy whimper echoing off your tongue.

"Haud yer wheesht, lass. Beat ya by a solid 20. Easily"

"Pfft. 20's pushing it, trigger man."

"Doubt it. Cannae miss hittin' tha sweet ass a'yers."

You shoved your elbow into the center of his chest with a boisterous laugh, forcing a rumbling groan from his throat as he turned you onto your back and caged you beneath his muscular and gel tattered form.

"Ya wanna go 'nother round?" He asked with an excited growl. Eyes brimming in cerulean conquest as a curling smile formed on his kiss ravaged lips.

"Why? You clearly already beat me."

"Wasn't talkin' bout the game, bonnie," he purred lowly. His Scottish brogue thick as molasses as he pressed the bulbous tip of his cock against your wet and silken entrance.

"Feelin' a bit outdone by yer bruises. Need ta add some a'me own. Gotta-," he halted with a groan. Voice catching in his throat as he pushed between your folds and gradually pumped his hardened length into the welcoming walls of your cunt.

You rolled your eyes with a muffled moan, arching your back off the floor to assist in his entry as he glacially thrusted himself until fully seated.

"Johnny," you whimpered. Mouth open with a silent moan as your greedy walls clenched around him.

"I know, bonnie. Yer always so fuckin' tight fer me, aren't ya?" He growled as he encapsulated his mouth over your lips.

Devouring your moans before pulling away. Grabbing tightly at the flesh of your hips as he flared his chest and moved to sit on his haunches.

"Gonnae fuckin' wreck ya, lass."

The bellow that echoed in his brogue sent a spiraling shiver down your spine. Causing you to pulse around him as he hoisted your legs up and rest over his shoulders.

Clawing your nails along the floor for purchase as he pistoned his hips against your ass in a primal and aggressive thrust.

"Johnny!" You wailed, followed by a breathless gasp. Chest heaving, breasts bouncing as your body undulated with the waves of inertia from his forceful drives.

"Tha's it. Gonnae mark ya. Make ya mine. Make ya scream fer me."

Your body went into overdrive as he continually pistoned his cock into your aching cunt. Mind going nearly blank except for one thought that rolled around behind your eyes.

Soap saw those circular marks as a challenge, even if they were done so by his own hand. His need to mark you, claim you as his own pushed him into his primal state as he gripped with measured force into the supple flesh of your thighs.

And you loved it. The growls emanating from the caverns of his chest. The crazed yet loving glare in his eyes as he marked his territory with every throbbing plunge of his cock.

You'd carry those bruises with pride the next morning as you gazed at your figure in the mirror. The only change you'd make is the location. The bruises you loved. The rug burn, not so much.

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[tkwrites]

Summer Decisions - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from gabelandeskog

Title: Summer Decisions - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Warnings: Highly emotional, angst. mild fighting, lots of anxiety, swearing, crying, fluff. If I missed anything, please let me know. 

Summary: An invitation to his family reunion over the fourth of July has Quinn and Sarah tumbling into a long conversation about their future in the off-season and beyond. Though the ensuing fight is resolved, the reality of their commitments vs. their love for each other is put to the test.

Word Count: 4,600

Comments: I’m back with some highly emotional goodness. This fic was halfway done for a long time until your overwhelming reactions to my WIP ask game really got me in gear to start writing again. I really like the way this turned out, and I hope you do, too. It's, like, 98% dialogue. So if that's not your thing, I won't be offended if you skip this one. But it is setting up all of our off-season fics.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

I love Quinn and Sarah, and I’m constantly blown away that so many of you love them, too.

Summer Decisions

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

“My parents want to know if you want to come to our family reunion over the 4th of July. It’s in New Hampshire.”

“Oh,” she said, voice quiet. 

“Is that not okay?” 

“It’s just a big step,” she said, “meeting your whole family.” 

“I’m meeting your family in June, aren’t I?” he asked.

They’d discussed him coming to visit when she went home for a few weeks after school. Were it not for the Canucks making it into the playoffs, she would have bought a ticket for the Monday after her classes would be done. Instead, she pushed her visit back until mid-June, wanting to be in Vancouver to support him through the entirety of their run, however long it may be.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” 

It was a little strange to her how comfortably serious they were, but she couldn’t imagine life with Quinn any other way. It was that fated belonging she’d talked about so much when they first met. Even still, it was a little jarring to think about him meeting her family or meeting his before they even hit the six month mark. 

The phrase, ‘when you know, you know,’ never made sense until she met him. She knew, and even though it felt too fast and scary sometimes, she knew it would all turn out okay. 

“So we’ll fly out from Van, what? The night before?”

“I’ll have to fly out from Michigan.” 

“Michigan? Why?” 

“I thought I told you we train in Michigan in the summer.”

“You did, but I thought… I thought maybe that changed?” 

“Why?” 

“Because of us?” she gestured between them. 

“I mean, I’d love for you to come with me.” 

“I can’t do that, Quinn.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t just pack up and move to Michigan. I still have my research work, and if I’m not working or in school for more than 6 weeks in a quarter, it violates my education visa. Not only will I have to move back to the States, I won’t be able to finish my degree.” 

“Then I’ll fly you out every weekend.” 

Pricked, the old wound split open, and she couldn’t quite hide the annoyance in her voice, “so it’s up to me to fly to you?” 

Shit. He hadn’t taken her schedule into account again. “Sorry, no. Of course I’d come here, too.”

The annoyance still fresh in her mind she found herself asking, “why do I have to remind you my time matters for you to take it into account?”

Quinn winced. “I know your time matters. I’m sorry, it’s not fair for me to assume you could just pack up and move or fly out every weekend.”

“Then don’t bring it up again,” she said. 

Okay then. 

“I’m trying here, Sarah. This is all new to me, too.” He’d never felt close enough with June to figure out a summer situation. They saw each other once or twice when he was gone, and that was enough. Looking back, that should have been a huge sign about the trajectory of their relationship.

“And yet, I assume because I have a vagina, I was raised to take other people into account.” 

“That’s not fair,” he said. 

“No? Then why do you always jump into me coming to you? Into me changing my plans? Into me inconveniencing my life before you do?” 

Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to go this way. This was supposed to be a nice, light conversation about how he wanted her to meet everyone he loved. 

“Maybe we should just break up for the summer,” she said when he didn’t say anything.  

“What? No!” Quinn sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, hurt and disgruntled she would even suggest such a thing. 

“What would you suggest, then?”

Instead of answering her question, he asked one of his own. “Do you want to date someone else?” His voice was hesitant as he braced himself for the blow. 

“No. Of course not.” 

“Then why do you want to break up?” he asked through the relief easing his mind. “Why would you even say that?” 

“Because we won’t be together.”

“That doesn’t mean we should just call it off. Why do you always jump into ‘we should break up’ or ‘I should go’ when something hard comes up?” 

“I…” Sarah broke off, caught. “I don’t know.” 

“Maybe you should figure that out because I’m willing to put in the work here,” he said, gesturing between them. 

“That’s not fair.”

He raised his eyebrows instead of throwing her words back in her face. 

“I’m sorry, Quinn. I am trying, and I know you’re trying.” Tears pricked at her eyes, “I’ve just…” her mind whirred, trying to find the right explanation. In the end, as it always did with Quinn, the truth won out. “I’m scared I’m going to fuck it up and I don’t want to lose you.” 

Bridging the space between them with one big step, he pulled her against him. When they boiled down to the heart of the problem, they were both scared of the same thing. 

Tucking his nose into her hair, he breathed in the calming, smokey scent that was uniquely hers. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” he said. “We can still be together. Just separately.”

A laugh snorted from her nose, and she pulled back, “what?” 

“Long distance?”

It was Sarah's turn to suck on her lip. “I’ve never done that before.”

“I have. It's not easy. But I think we're both committed enough to make it work. Plus, we'll see each other pretty often.”

She had her thinking face on as a pregnant pause passed, so Quinn didn’t interrupt.

“What would that look like?” she asked, finally. 

“We’d talk on the phone and video chat a lot. I can come see you every weekend.”

“That doesn't make sense, Quinn. You go to Michigan to train and be with family. If you're flying back here every weekend, won't that mess with those things?”

“Probably, but —”

“Then it's out of the question. You need to do what you need to do.” 

He felt whiplashed. “I thought you wanted me to come here.” 

“Only in equal measure to me coming to you. I won’t let you give up your summer training for me.” 

It stuck him how much care and understanding were laid out in that statement. 

“Just like I know you wouldn’t want me to give up my research for you. It wouldn’t be fair.” 

Still wrapped in each others arms, Sarah rested her head on his shoulder as they thought. 

Tucking his face into her hair again, Quinn breathed deeply. As always, that smokey, vanilla scent was so calming to him. He couldn’t ever get it out of his mind. 

“This fucking sucks,” he said, voice muffled.

“I know,” she agreed. “I wish it could be different."

It couldn’t. They both had commitments that needed to be fulfilled, and they just didn’t match up.

“I wish I’d known. I would have made different plans.” 

“How would you have known?” she asked. “We only met four months ago.” 

“Has it only been that long?” he asked. The reality of the swiftness of their relationship hit him full force. “I feel like I’ve known you forever.” 

“I know. I do too.” 

“I don’t want to go the summer without you,” he said, caressing her cheek with the backs of his fingers. 

“I don’t either,” she agreed, “but it’s not like it’ll be five months where we just don’t see each other.” 

“Four,” he corrected. 

“What?” 

“Four months, I come back in September.” 

Well, that was a relief. 

“Okay, four months. I mean, we already have stuff planned. Let’s talk through what we do have,” she suggested, breaking away from him all together and pulling her planner from her bag. Flipping to the summer months, she lay it on top of her comparative physiology textbook and sat at the table. The urge to make a plan itched beneath her skin. 

He sat next to her, leaning in.

“So we have my family in June,” she said, pointing out the 10 days she had blocked out for her visit, “I sort of expected you’d come on the weekend?”  

“Yeah, that sounds good. And our reunion over the forth,” he said, flipping the page. “Then, we’re going to Hawaii at the end of July. You can come. I’ll get you a ticket.” 

“Hold on, have you talked to your family about this?” 

“No, but it’ll be fine.”��

She shook her head. 

He couldn’t believe she was turning down the option to spend two more weeks together. 

“That’s your family vacation, Quinn. I’d love to come, but I don’t want to go inserting myself —”

“You’re not inserting yourself, I’m inviting you.” 

“And I’m telling you I won’t come unless all your family is okay with it. Including Jack.” 

Even though Quinn had assured her Jack was a good guy and very devoted to his family and would come around once they met, he was still aloof anytime she happened to be around when he and Quinn were talking. Even Ellen had said as much, but Sarah still felt hesitant. Until she saw it from Jack himself, she wasn’t about to jump into an already planned vacation. She knew what it was like having a new person join the family. She didn’t want to make it any harder than it had to be. 

Quinn huffed. 

“The last thing I want is to come between you and your brothers,” she said gently.

His expression softened. “Okay. I’ll talk to them about it when they’re here.”

“So, it looks like we’ll see each other every three weeks or so, depending on when you come to Nevada and what Hawaii looks like. At least until August.”

Every three weeks felt like too long. He could hardly stand a week on the road, and they weren’t even living together. Yet. 

“I’d like you to come out to Michigan,” he said, “meet the guys. See the house.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “And you can come back here sometime here,” she said, her finger circling over a few weeks in August. 

Quinn nodded. It certainly wasn’t going to be easy, but it did feel better to have a plan.

“Are you renting this place out for the summer,” she asked, “while you’re gone?”

“I kind of thought you might move in here.”

“What?” 

“I mean, it’s just going to be empty, and I’d really like to live with you when I move back.” 

She couldn’t believe he could drop such a huge bomb so easily. As she tried to reconcile what he was saying, she repeated, “what?” 

“I mean…” he paused, voice and expression suddenly hesitant, “only if you want to.” 

Her brain finally caught up, “it’s not that. It’s just…we haven’t even talked about living together, and now you have this whole plan about how I should live here over the summer.” 

“I just thought there’s no real need for you to pay for rent anymore, since you spend so much time here anyway.” 

“I…” she was struck with the care in that statement, “that’s really sweet, Quinn.” 

He beamed.

“But I can’t live here alone all summer.” 

Expression falling, he opened his mouth.

“I just —” she interrupted before she lost her nerve. What was one more in a series of already vulnerable conversations? “I’d love to live here with you, but I can’t…I don’t know how my depression will act up if I live alone for that long. I’ve never lived on my own before, and I don’t think a summer where I’m missing my boyfriend is the best time to start.” 

The thought that she’d be here alone hadn’t crossed his mind. Not in a concrete way. Like, he knew she’d be here, and he knew he’d be in Michigan, but he never thought about it like she would be the only one in the apartment.

“Oh,” he whispered, taking her hands in his, “then of course not.” 

His immediate acceptance made tears rush to her eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” Quinn asked as she took a hand back to wipe her face. 

Smiling despite the tears on her cheeks, she shook her head. “I just really love you.” Her voice sounded full, almost like she had a cold.

“I love you, too,” he said, feeling a little confused, “but I don’t know why you’re crying.” 

“Just…” How could she explain something like this? “The way you accept and trust my needs. It’s really nice.”

“The last thing I want is for you to be unhappy, Sarah.” 

This brought on a new wave of tears, and she tucked her head into his shoulder, trying to pull herself together. 

Quinn still felt a little whiplashed but tried to roll with it, running a soothing hand over her back. 

“What?” he asked when she mumbled something into his shirt. 

Pulling back, she wiped her nose before repeating, “I’ll have to sign a new lease. It comes up in July.” 

“I’ll buy you out of it,” he said as if it was the simplest, easiest solution to any of the problems they’d discussed that day. 

“I can’t let you do that, Quinn. That’s a lot of money.” 

He hated having this conversation, but it needed to be had. It was actually a little surprising to him that it’d taken this long for it to come up. June had asked him about it a month into dating.

“Sarah, I make eight million dollars a year. I can buy out your lease.” 

Her eyes went wide. They’d never discussed money so concretely. She knew he made big bucks. All pro athletes did, but, “eight million?” she asked. “What do you do with it?” 

“I have a financial advisor who’s helped me invest most of it,” he said, “and I don’t really have all eight million available all the time. But I paid off my parents and some of our families’ houses, and I give quite a bit to charity.” 

She’d seen the way he was with money. He never worried about it, but he certainly didn’t throw it at anything and everything. He wasn’t irresponsible. 

Opening her mouth to say something, she found her mind still reeling and closed it again. 

The annoyed look he would give her when she paid the dinner bill flashed in her mind. No wonder. He made so much more than she did. All the same, she wasn’t about to become some sugar baby. That went against nearly everything her parents had taught her.

“I still want to pull my weight,” she said.

Quinn was a little taken aback by the fierceness in her voice, “what?” 

“If we move in together, I still want to pull my weight.” 

His lips pursed, and he held back his initial response in favor of gathering more information. “What do you mean?” 

“Like, if I make $80,000 a year, I want to pay whatever percentage that is of what you make.”

“You only make $80,000 a year?” he asked. 

“No. Right now, I make $50,000 a year from my research stipend. It pays for my schooling, too, so it’s technically more, but $80,000 is a general base salary for a marine zoologist.” 

“You’ve been living on $50,000 a year?” 

“Yes, and I’ve been fine,” she said, giving him a look that stifled any follow-up questions he may have had. “My point is that if —” she paused to correct herself, “when we live together,” he beamed and she lost her thought for a moment before continuing, “I want to pull my weight, even if it is just a small percentage of the household. I don’t want to be some beholden trophy wife.” 

“Beholden?” he repeated, an amused smile playing on his lips.

“Yes, I don’t want to be some kept woman. A lot of financial advisors that I listen to say you should split the household and each pay the percentage compared to your salaries. How much do you pay here a month? Do you rent? Is it a mortgage?” 

“It’s a rental. It’s not really smart for me to buy a place when there’s a chance I may get traded in three years. It’s not enough time to build adequate equity on a home.” 

Sarah stuck a mental pin in that to come back to, “and how much is your rent?” 

“12,000.” 

“A year?” she found herself asking, even though she knew that couldn’t possibly be the answer.  

“A month,” he said with an indulgent smile, knowing it was her shock speaking more than anything else.

She wasn’t quite sure why, but this fact struck Sarah harder than anything else they’d talked about. She knew she’d never be able to afford an apartment like this on her own, but this was insane. More than a fifth of her yearly salary went to Quinn’s rent each month. She counted herself lucky to find a private room for under $2000.

“Okay, so if I make,” she paused, doing mental calculations - moving decimal points. Her voice was flat when she spoke again, “one percent of what you do…” She trailed off, looking into his face, “Quinn, this is insane.” 

“I know,” he agreed. “I’m happy to just pay, but if you would feel better paying whatever, I’m happy for you to do that, too.” 

 “So, I’d pay one percent of the household expenses.” Saying it out loud, it sounded so silly. One percent? That seemed minuscule, too insignificant to matter. “Maybe I could pay ten percent? One feels too tiny.”

“Sure,” Quinn said, knowing this was important to her. Unless she was storming in, trying to take over all the bills, he was happy to have her contribute in whatever way she wanted. “If you want to do that, let’s do that. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

They sat quietly for a moment, and he gathered his thoughts.

“I know it’s important to you to contribute,” Quinn said gently, “and I’m not saying you shouldn’t - but I just want you to know I’m happy to pay for things. I know I’m insanely blessed to make the kind of money I do to play a sport that I love. I’d really, really like to live together once I move back. So if that means I need to buy out your lease, I’m happy to do it if you’re comfortable with that.”

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she thought. If Quinn paid off her lease, she wouldn’t have to put off moving in with him or live on her own in this giant apartment or find a place to live for the two months between when he was home and when her lease was up. 

She wondered if this was one of those instances her grandmother often talked about. “Sometimes,” she would say while they were cleaning the basement or kneading dough, or working in the garden, “life showers you with blessings. And it’s up to you to catch them.” 

She always accompanied this wisdom by shaping her hands into a bowl as if to fill them with water. 

Sarah did the same now, pulling her other hand out of Quinns to cup them together. 

Eyebrows knitted together, he glanced from her hands to her face. 

She giggled and told him the story. 

“I should start doing that every morning,” he said, cupping his own hands together. 

“Every morning?” she repeated. 

“Well, every morning that you’re here. When I wake up next to you, I feel like the luckiest guy alive.” 

Despite it being incredibly cheesy, Sarah couldn’t help feeling moved. “Quinn that’s really sweet,” she said. “I feel like that, too,” she paused, feeling like she needed to add a caveat. “And I want you to know your money isn’t part of that. I would love you no matter how much money you were making.” 

“I know,” he said, leaning in to brush his lips over hers, “I’ve known that from the start.” 

His hands found her waist as their lips connected. 

A while later, that pin she’d stuck in for later snapped back into her mind, and Sarah pulled away. “What did you mean about getting traded?”

Well, they might as well have all the hard conversations all at once. “I’m in contract for the next three years, but after that, or even before, there’s always a chance I could get traded.” 

The trade deadline had already passed for the season, and Sarah had watched, fascinated, as players were moved around from club to club, like pieces on a chess board as organizations tried to build the best teams possible. Now, she had a new level of understanding, knowing lives and families were being uprooted in the process.

“But they love you here.”

His smile was wide and genuine, “I love it here, too. I don’t really expect I’d be traded anytime soon, but I can’t say never with what I do. I could get seriously injured, or my game could crash.” 

She gave him an incredulous look. 

“Its happened before.” 

“To you?” 

“No, but it has to people I know. I really like it here, but I can’t guarantee I’ll play here forever, or even for the next three years. I think I will, but I can’t say for certain.”

“What happens if you get traded while I’m still finishing my degree?”

“I don’t think that will happen, but I guess we’d make it work apart until you were done. Most players get traded right at the end of their contract, so we’d be apart for the rest of the season, and then we’d decide what to do moving forward. If I was moving clubs by choice, we’d decide where to go together. ”

She nodded. “Do you get any say in trades?” 

“I think I probably would, but it doesn’t always work out that way. I mean, Bo had a monster year last season, but they couldn’t come to an agreement, and so he got traded, and I know he would have liked to stay. It’s just never guaranteed.” 

“How do you live your life like this?” she asked. 

He shrugged, “you just kind of have to get used to the idea that things could change tomorrow.” 

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.” 

The concerns his parents had expressed when they were here snapped into place, and a sudden, consuming worry that she might not want this kind of life overwhelmed him.

“Are you,” he paused to lick his lips, trying to find the right phrasing, “I mean, do you think you could be okay with that?” 

Even as it was racing with anxiety, the worried look on his face melted Sarah’s heart. It was difficult to reconcile the fact that while it felt steady now, his life had the possibility of being in flux all the time, and that where he chose to work was only partially up to him. At the same time, she didn’t want to be without him. The pull between them was too strong, too fated in a way she couldn’t deny. She was too in love with him to be scared of the reality of his life. 

There was only one thing for it. “It’ll take some getting used to, but I think I can,” she said. Perhaps this wasn’t even something she needed to be worried about. Thoughts buzzing, she tried to think of players on Quinn’s level who’d been traded recently. She couldn’t remember any off the top of her head. She’d have to look it up. 

He gave her a relieved smile, and she saw moisture shining in his eyes. 

“Oh, Quinn,” she said, her hands coming up to cup his face. The course hairs of his beard tickled her palms. “I think I’d probably move to the ends of the earth with you.” The words just fell out of her mouth, and once they were out there, spoken aloud for everyone to hear, she realized how true they were. For someone so practical, it was strange for her to have such a frivolous thought mean so much. 

His face split into a beaming smile, and he pulled her into a hug. Tucking his nose into her hair again, he let a few grateful tears fall. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” he said. 

“I don’t know either.” 

A sudden, surprised laugh barked from his chest, and he pulled back with a raised brow.

“Oh no,” her hand went to her mouth as a blush blazed over her cheeks. “I meant that I feel the same way.” Shaking her head, she wondered if she had ever said something so stupid. “You’re the most understanding, accepting man I’ve ever met, Quinn. I’m so glad the Universe brought us together.” 

He nodded, “me too.” 

Looking into his eyes, which seemed more hazel than usual to the point that she could almost see a ring of green near the iris, the reality of what was coming hit her square in the chest, “this summer is gonna fucking suck.” 

“I know,” he said, pulling her into his lap. 

Arms around his shoulders to bring herself closer, her feet hung awkwardly off the sides of the chair. Though she knew her toes would be tingling from lack of blood flow within a matter of minutes, she didn’t readjust, savoring the feeling of his solid chest against hers. 

The deep breath she sighed out moved her whole body against his. “We’ll get through it together, right?” 

Tightening his grip, Quinn agreed. 

As the minutes passed, his hands traveled over her back in slow, calming waves that put her totally at ease. 

“Do you have homework?” he asked quietly, almost as if he didn’t want to hear the question himself. 

“Yeah, but it can wait a while.”

A pleased little hum filtered up his throat, and he pulled her tighter against him. 

“Can we move to the couch, though?” she asked. “My feet are falling asleep.” 

Laughing, he stood, hands cradling her butt to keep her wrapped around him. When she hooked her ankles around his back, Quinn filed the position away to try later. 

Halfway up the stairs, Sarah unwound herself from him. Sure, he was an athlete, but carrying her up the stairs was still taking a toll. 

She lay down on the suede couch and held her arms open for him. He gratefully lay on top of her, his head on her chest. 

Running her fingers through his hair, Sarah replayed their relationship in her mind. Knowing what she knew now, both about Quinn’s celebrity status and his quiet nature, the fact that he came up to her at all was a miracle. He could have any woman in the city, and he’d stuck his neck out for her. It was overwhelming to think about sometimes. She hoped she was living up to his expectations. 

Half an hour later, Quinns phone chirped with a notification, bringing them out of their sleepy reverie. By that time, they’d switched places, and Sarah was draped over him. 

“It’s 6,” he whispered into her hair. “I’ve got to get up to make dinner.”

Even as she whined, Sarah pushed herself up. This soft, caring version of Quinn was always her favorite, and she didn’t want to let him go. “I love you,” she said, looking down at him.

“I love you, too,” he said, standing and hugging her to him again before they had to get back to real life.

Her arms tightened around him. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, Quinn Hughes, but I’m so glad you’re mine.” 

Tucking his face into her neck, he pressed a few soft kisses there before telling her, “Sarah Roberts, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[theemporium]

I have a feeling that trouble has cussed out j*s after he criticized max for not doing good but he did his best

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

It was a stupid mistake. Not one he could do much about, but stupid nonetheless. 

He could feel something in his stomach drop as he drove the car back into the pitlane, making his way back to the garage where he knew his team were waiting for him to debrief his qualifying session—his very bad qualifying session that left him starting the race from P12. He hated disappointing his team, he hated disappointing himself when he knew he could do better.

But most of all, he hated disappointing his father, who he knew was currently waiting in the garage for him.

And he was right when he pulled himself out of the car, barely pulling his helmet and balaclava off before Jos was standing in front of him. He didn’t care that the whole team could hear him. He didn’t care that the cameras could catch him. Jos Verstappen had no fucking shame in berating his son for his mistakes, and Max just focused on a random spot of the floor until it was over.

Nobody ever stepped in. Nobody dared to. 

Nobody but you.

“Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?” 

It was clear that most of the garage—Jos and Max included—were surprised to hear you talk. To be fair, your interactions with the man were already limited and you had never shared the garage together on a race weekend, not until this grand prix. And it became abundantly clear why when you took a step towards both men, your fingers grazing Max’s as you stood by his side. 

Jos blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Jos, you’re not deaf,” you retorted, no amusement or lightness written across your expression as you stared at the man. 

“Who do you think you are talking to me like that?” Jos said, a laugh to his words but there was nothing sweet or happy about his laugh. It was as cold and bitter as him. “I am his father. I am well within my right to—”

“To judge a driver much better than you ever were?” You interrupted, brows raised in interest as the man fell quiet. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you only stood on that podium twice in your life, no?”

The man stayed quiet.

“Trouble,” Max murmured in a soft voice, but you didn’t turn to look at him. 

“Have some fucking respect when you’re talking to the three time world champion,” you stated bluntly before you took Max’s hand in your own, pulling him away from his father and the thick tension suffocating the garages. 

Max didn’t say anything as you made your way to his driver room, letting him settle onto the couch as you closed the door behind you. He didn’t need to even open his mouth as he opened his arms expectantly, happily accepting the way your body curled on his lap as his grip tightened around you.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“Always,” you answered simply, pressing a soft peck to the base of his neck. “He may be your father, but he’s not your dad.” 

Max only nodded, but he didn’t trust himself enough to speak.

“And your dad loves me,” you continued. “I mean, I swear Christian wants to adopt me.”

He couldn’t help but snort, happy enough to feel the way you were smiling against his skin. 

“I’m serious! He adores me!”

“You’re a very easy person to adore,” Max murmured softly. 

“You are as well,” you murmured back, lifting your head to smile at the boy. “It’s what makes us such a great couple.”

And he could smile back in return, enjoying the fleeting moments of you in his arm and your smile shining at him before he had to return back to reality.

.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hiiiiiiiiiii can I please request an imagine where yn is taking Gretchen out on a first date to the fair. It’s right after her and Jason broke up and Gretchen is assuming(worried) yn may be similar to how he treated her but after a bit she realizes Yn is the total opposite (winning her a prize and buying her treats) and they end up talking and having a sweet time at the fair.

Thank you!! Have a great day!

Miss Smooth Talker//

|| Gretchen Wieners x fem!reader

|| Warnings: underage drinking mention, hookup mention, swearing, Regina being Regina, Gretchen struggling with insecurities

|| Summary: first date, where Gretchen's worried that reader will be like Jason. But reader surprises her and they have a great time at a fair. Mostly fluff.

Requests open!

Started: April 23rd

Finished: April 26th

~~~

When Jason and Gretchen broke up you'd been there to comfort the girl. She told you all about it one night at one of Shane's house parties. You hated seeing her like that, she deserved better. So much better than a guy who only thinks of her when he's looking at her. She was your best friend and long time crush, so obviously you couldn't stand seeing her that upset.

One drink led to another and soon enough the two of you were wasted. Gretchen, in her very drunken state, had babbled on about how much she loved you and was grateful for a friend like you. You, without thinking twice (mainly because you couldn't think at all), kissed her. To your surprise she kissed back.

That's how you and Gretchen ended up having a one night stand.

It's been three weeks since then and Gretchen hasn't said a word to you, you could tell she was avoiding you you just didn't know why.

It was killing you not having your best friend.

Today you decided you would break the silence. Today would be the day you asked her out, because surely she wouldn't have kissed you if she didn't feel something too. Right?

Why else would she be avoiding you?

That lunch, you tracked her down and found her outside with her usual group. Karen, Regina and Cady. When Regina saw you she gave you an intense glare that sent shivers down your spine. You forced yourself to keep walking to Gretchen; having two cups of coffee in your hand. One was your favourite and the other was the order you knew was Gretchen's go to.

"Uh, no. Fuck off." Regina narrows her eyes at you once you stood next to Gretchen, you could see Gretchen tense up and you sighed. Crouching down to sit with her, catching Regina off guard because she wasn't used to people ignoring her. She tried saying more but you cut her off.

"Gretchen. Can we talk?" You looked at the girl, you looked away from Karen to look at you.

"We don't have anything to talk about, Y/N." You notice the slight tremble in her tone.

"Yes, we do. I know you've been avoiding me which if fine if you need the space but... a warning would have been nice at least." You ramble, wanting to get all your thoughts out before Gretchen could avoid you again. You quickly handed her her coffee," I.. um, got you this when I went out today. Maybe you could- I dunno, join me next time?"

Her eyes widened a little but she took the coffee, raising an eyebrow at you." Um... next time?"

"Like- a date- or not- we could just hang out-" Damn it. You had been so prepared for this. Here you were stuttering like an idiot.

Gretchen blushed when you said date and glanced at Regina, who scoffed and rolled her eyes. She looked back at you and smiled," a date?"

"I really like you, Gretchen. Sure we were both drunk but to me it was more than a hook up. Consider it at least?" You hoped she would hear you out at the very least, she nodded. You felt you could breathe a little easier now, you weren't as anxious as you had been.

"Oh! If you're going on a date there's a fall fair this weekend!" Karen piped up, you looked at Karen and smiled. A fair sounded perfect.

You looked back at Gretchen," Well. Wanna go to the fair with me?"

"Yes! I'd love to!" Gretchen grinned, feeling much more relaxed than she had been. She wanted her best friend back as much as you did, she was just scared of having a Jason repeat. In the back of her mind she knew you weren't like that. She knew you well enough to know that. But she couldn't help thinking it.

"Really?" You were almost surprised she'd agreed, especially with how much she had been avoiding you. You sighed quietly to yourself in relief and made a mental note to thank Karen later for the date suggestion." Alright! I'll pick you up at five on Saturday and we can head down?"

"Sounds perfect!"

And that's how you got a date with Gretchen Wieners.

The days leading up to Saturday were some of the happiest you've had in a while. You had your best friend back, if you could even call her that now. You were definitely more than friends, you just didn't know if you were girlfriend level or not.

You talked any chance you had, hanging out throughout the day (which unintentionally made you a plastic, Gretchen informed you of all their rules), at night you'd go over to each other's houses and on the nights where you couldn't you face timed. Just as you always had. Only, there was more. Holding hands as you walked through the halls, cuddling as you laid in bed together, doing each other's makeup in a more... well, it felt much more intimate now. Having her that close and seated in your lap...

Finally, it was Saturday. The two of you had been face timing each other all morning. Helping each other get ready from your own respective homes. You'd picked out a nice comfortable fall outfit, you can decide what it is. Gretchen wore an orange long sleeve with black jeans, she'd done her hair up in a ponytail and all that was left was the makeup.

(fall outfit I was thinking for Gretchen)

"Hey, Y/N?" She said suddenly, getting your attention as you were fixing up your own hair.

"Yeah, Gren?" You looked at your phone, which you had propped up next to you.

"I know you'd said you were going to pick me up at five but um could I come over now? And we do each other's makeup?" Gretchen rambled out, you could tell she was a little nervous asking.

"Absolutely!" You smiled at the thought, Gretchen doing your makeup was definitely one of your favourite little things in your guy's relationship.

You could see her smile and her shoulders relax as she grabbed her phone and started getting whatever she needed to come to yours.

"Alright, I'll be there soon!" She tells you.

Soon enough, Gretchen was now in your room. You sat at your makeup station with Gretchen sitting in your lap, working on your makeup. You could see the concentration on her face and you couldn't help but grin, your hands wrapped around her lower waist to keep her steady in your lap.

"Close your eyes for me." Gretchen said, her voice nearly a whisper. You did as told.

She worked on your makeup for a solid ten minutes, making sure everything was perfect and to the way you liked it. She'd come up with the idea of matching fall makeup, which you thought sounded adorable so you agreed to it.

Once she was satisfied with her work, she looked at you and smiled before giving your cheek a soft kiss.

"You're gorgeous." She whispered, earning a faint blush from you.

"If I'm gorgeous, then that must make you angelic." You replied, a bit of a flirty tone in your voice. Gretchen blushed deeper than you did and giggled, you were pretty damn proud of getting that reaction out of her.

"Yeah well if I'm angelic that makes you a Goddess." Gretchen one upped you, making your blush deepen. Your hand rested to the back of her neck as you pulled her closer to you, lips just inches apart.

Your eyes locked on hers.

"Okay Miss Smooth Talker." You teased her, she laughed a little and kissed you deeply. You kisses her back, getting lost in the moment with each other.

This had been the first time since the party you had properly kissed each other. Was that even a proper kiss? You both were drunk, so you weren't sure if it counted. Sober kisses were so much better than drunk kisses.

As the kiss broke, your eyes remained on each other. Both grinning like love sick idiots.

When you finally snapped out of it a minute later, the two of you finished getting ready. You helping Gretchen with her makeup.

Once all that was settled, you took a photo for instagram. Arm draped around Gretchen's shoulders as you kissed her cheek.

The caption reading:

First date ready! 🍁🍂🫶

You weren't insta famous by any means, so your post only got a few likes from your friends and mutuals. Though you noticed a like and comment from Karen.

@ karenshetty EEEE U GUYS R CUTETS! 💕

You laughed a little and showed the comment to Gretchen, who smiled and looked up at you.

"She meant cuties." Gretchen translated for you, noticing you were a little confused by the spelling. You nodded in understanding and looked at the time on your phone.

4:42pm.

"Well, shall we head down?" You looked at Gretchen, who smiled and took your hand in hers.

"Let's go!"

~~~

At the fair, you and Gretchen are having an absolute blast. Or at least, you were. Gretchen was overthinking and worried that you might be like Jason; but every time she thought that way you would instantly prove her wrong without her even having to ask. You were perfect to her.

"Gren! Let's go over here!" You grabbed her hand, pulling her through a crowd.

"Woah, Y/N/N slow down!" Gretchen laughed as you pulled her along, the amount of energy you had always surprised her. She wondered how you could be that energetic all the time.

"I'm gonna win you the best fucking prize!" You exclaimed, throwing your free hand into the air with excitement. You were ready to kill it at these games.

Gretchen laughed and smiled as she watched you, finding it absolutely adorable. She took a small video of you being all bouncy.

Your eyes landed on the balloon dart game and smirked, seeing all the different prizes around it. You were going to win the biggest one for Gretchen. Pulling her along with you, you stepped up to the stand and the stand host explained the game to you.

You were only partly paying attention. You knew how to play; three darts for three chances to hit the balloons. The top corner balloons were worth the most points. So you aimed for those as Gretchen cheered you on.

Your first shot; you missed the corner one you had been aiming for but you hit the one two balloons below it. Earning you 30 points.

There's five rows of balloons, the bottom being worth 10 points, second row 20, middle 30, fourth 40, and top 50. The top corners were 60.

"30 points!" The stand host announced as you hit the balloon, you rolled your eyes and huffed.

You were determined to get that 60.

You tilted your wrist a little more and tossed the next dart, eyes narrowed at the 60 balloon.

The dart landed right above it.

"Come on!" You groaned, having missed the balloons entirely. This game was so much easier than it looked.

Gretchen rested her hand to your shoulder and smiled at you, giving your cheek a kiss which made you blush as you looked at her.

"A good luck kiss." She explained, her blush matching yours. God, she was adorable.

You shot your finale dart, hitting the 60. You immediately threw your hands into the air and smiled wide, looking at Gretchen. Good luck kisses for the win.

"60 points! That will bring your total up to 90, dear! Pick a prize!" The stand host said in that over exaggerated carnival voice. Y'all know the one.

You kept your eyes focused on Gretchen and bent slightly, gesturing to the prizes in a dramatic way." Well, m'lady. Pick a prize, any prize!" You mocked the carnival voice, earning a laugh from Gretchen an annoyed stare from the stand host.

Gretchen kissed your cheek in thanks and picked out a prize, going with a decently sized teddy.

"Adorable choice!" You kept up the voice, she looked at you and smiled. Her hand draped around your waist as you stared into each other's eyes.

"I'm really enjoying today." She told you as you both walked away from the stand.

"Yeah?" You smiled at her, a faint blush on your cheeks.

"Yeah. I was... worried this would end up like my last relationship- I know you and Jason are nothing at all alike, I know that- it's just-" She rambled out, trying to explain. You sighed, knowing exactly what she meant. You didn't fault her for it.

"What he did stuck with you, it's only natural to be scared. I'll never treat you the way he did." You assured her, seeing her relax as she kept her eyes locked with yours.

You had an idea.

Looking away from Gretchen, you laughed a little at what you were about to say," See! I'm still thinking about you even while I'm not looking at you."

This earned a laugh from Gretchen as she jokingly shoved you, she knew exactly what you were referencing. She had told you about when Jason said he only thought of her when he looked at her.

"You're such an idiot." She teased you, though she meant none of what she said.

You looked at her and brought her close to your side," Mm, maybe. But I'm your idiot, aren't I?"

She blushed and nodded," Yeah... yeah you are."

The rest of the day went really well, you and Gretchen decided to do the ferris wheel as your last activity for the night.

You sat in the booth as it went to the top at a slow motion, arms wrapped around each other as you laughed and talked about anything and everything.

You'd been mid complaining about an upcoming test, that Gretchen had totally forgotten about so she was complaining right along with you, when the ferris wheel stopped as the two of you were at the top. You glanced behind Gretchen and admired the finale parts of the sunset, looking at Gretchen you saw how it almost made her glow with how she was positioned in front of it.

God, she was gorgeous.

"Hey, I wanna get a picture of us up here. Scoot closer." You told her, she blushed and did as you asked. You held her close to her side and took a photo of the two of you, sunset in the background and set it as your new lock screen.

Gretchen smiled and looked at you.

"If I'm already your lock screen, does that mean I'm getting a second date with you?" She asked.

"A second and then some." You assure her, your eyes went to her lips and hers went to yours.

You kissed her, deeply and passionately. She kissed you back with a similar energy.

You couldn't wait to spend more time with Gretchen.

[nylwnder]

polaroids

a/n: happy third smutty fic drop and happy valentines day (2 days late) <3333333333 pls enjoy this self indulgent daddy dilf captain fic cause i wanted to defy the odds and write for him cause im THAT slut!

pairing: john tavares x wife!reader

warning: SMUT!!, use of camera during sex, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, lotus position, creampie, voyeurism, polaroids being found, mom!reader, mention of his kids (because they are the cutest)

word count: 2.9k

taglist: @shoot-the-puck , @11livpangburn , @domi-max , @boqvistsbabe , @sweetiet , @p1tstop , @occasionallyaurora , @laurenairay , @fallinallincurls , @andrea9

series masterpost

the polaroid slowly spills out of the camera before you grab it to put it on the nightstand.

your husband turns to fully look at you and you face him with a giggle. he was standing on the opposite side from the bed as he was trying to undress from his suit. “mm, didn't know i was on camera” he mumbled, with a smile.

“you can't expect me to not feel a type of way with you in that suit.” you say, moving yourself closer to him, your legs dangling off the bed.

it was the first weekend in a while where the kids were at your parents’ place. so john took you out for dinner to one of your favourite spots.

“plus i haven't used this thing in so long,” you mentioned, turning the camera to see how many polaroids you have left. “nine left”

john grabbed the camera out of your hands, putting it to his face in order to take a picture of you. you were still wearing the dress you put on for dinner. “its only fair.”

the camera clicked again and a polaroid slowly etched its way out once again. the picture developed and soon showed you sat with a perfect smile on your face. your husband smiled at the photograph.

“why stop there?” you stated more so than anything, but kept a soft voice. john looked at you and you watched him back, slipping your bottom lip between your teeth. it was a thought you have had in your mind once or twice.

he set the camera gently aside. grabbing your arms to stand up with him. he reached for the zipper on your back and the material fell off you in a second, revealing a black babydoll slip dress you had on under. john grabs your dinner dress and throws it onto the bench that sits at the end of the bed.

you both break into a smile, as you wrap your arms around his neck. you pressed your lips to him as his hands travelled down your body, squeezing his favourite parts. soon his hands scoop you up and your legs habitually wrap around his torso as you don't break the link between the two of you.

that is until john drops you onto the bed. your hair sprawls out on the bed sheets as a frame around your face. your lips are plump from your kissing and your face is blushy. the lace slip laying delicately on your skin.

flash shined through the room as another polaroid was placed on the nightstand.

you sat up to kiss john again, your hands exploring his chest as more than half of the buttons from his shirt were already open. he catched your lips and your body already felt so hot.

laying back down, john pulls your legs forward so that the plant of your feet sits on his folded knees. that only meant your slip dress ruffled up, making your husband have a perfect view of your matching underwear. a wet spot was slowly forming on the thin material and you felt slightly embarrassed. he hasn't even done anything to you, you thought.

you've been with john for basically half of your life, which only means he has seen you in multiple different situations. he knows his effect on you and your growing wetness brings nothing but a smile to his face, every time. even if he's barely touched you. it's a compliment if anything else.

so why not take a picture, he thought.

you blushed, even more heavenly now. its impossible to even try to feel embarrassed with this man, you thought. though, your body was more so waiting for john to take away the thin separation between him and your core.

so when his fingers hooked on the band of your underwear, rolling them down your legs and discarding them to the side, you couldn't help but let out a little whine.

john took a deep breath as he looked at your dewy cunt. but instead of touching it himself, he took one of your hands and sucked two of your fingers in his mouth. your own mouth opened just a slight and your clit throbbed as you watched him. his eyes, which are looking at you, are far darker now.

“touch yourself, darling.” john demanded, keeping the camera close to reach.

following his words, your wet fingers made their way to your pussy. collecting your own juices and playing with your clit before teasing your hole. john watched closely, his one hand holding your leg apart from the other.

you let out small moans as you worked yourself like you have for years. but you couldn't help but look at your husband in front of you, begging he was the one to bring you to an orgasm next. and the stroking of your fingers was enough to start building a tent in john’s dress pants.

he kept licking his lips as you etched yourself closer and closer. feeling the coil in your stomach near to snap, you threw your head back while biting your lip once again. your fingers deep in your pussy jt took another picture.

by the time john put the film aside you began bringing yourself down from your high. removing your hand from your dripping folds, your husband was quick to close the gap between the two of you. moaning in his mouth as his tongue slipped in between your lips.

pulling apart for air you gave john room to leave kisses along your jaw and neck. moving downwards, as he moved your small dress upwards, your body gave a shiver as his lips kissed your cunt. though the touch so soft you barely felt it, not with the fire burning inside you as he watches you with amorous eyes.

“johnny…” you whined softly, your face with a needy pout. quite honestly, nobody has made you ache between your thighs more than the brown eyed man right below you. you're just grateful he’s your husband, so you can have him at your full disposal.

a subtle smirk appears on john’s face. “of course, angel.”

his head leaned on your inner thigh, taking in the sight of your glistening, dripping cunt once again. a sight he will never get sick of. he slid just one finger in between your wet folds, splitting you open in order to rub the tip of his finger against your clit. your hips chased the friction immediately.

but he was quick to open you up with his mouth and you whimpered and twisted at the delicious feeling of his tongue flat on your pussy. he kissed and nipped gently but firmly, devouring you like a man starved from dinner, despite having eaten your cunt more than the two of you can count.

this time you felt the pressure in your lower belly build easily. faster than with your mediocre fingers. “so close” you murmured with an arched back.

“let me taste you, darling. want to taste that sweetness of yours.”

his lips laying kisses near your entrance as he spoke, his tongue began to move in and out. grabbing the camera from the side, you figured you'd get in on the photoshoot.

its only fair.

moving your free hand to lightly tug on johnny’s hair, you snap a picture before your moans overtake you and your orgasm washes over you.

john catched every drop of your nectar before gracing your cunt with some more kisses. tugging for him by the waves of his hair, he makes his way back up, wrapping his arms under you to pull you up to his lap. reaching for his lips, you grind down at the bulge that sat under you.

you earned a moan from the man, doing it again just to hear the sweet vibrations in your ear.

getting up and pulling him with you, you begin to untug the button up from john’s pants. swiping it off his broad body, it falls to the floor behind him. your hands explore his skin, following the lines of his shoulders down to his stomach. leaving baby kisses over his collarbone, your finger lightly lines his snail trail. so featherlike, you receive a shiver from john. your hands are quick to work his belt and the zipper of his dress pants. yanking them down, your lips connect for a kiss.

you slowly drag his boxers down as you move with them. kneeling on the soft carpet that surrounded your bed, you look up at john. sharing the prettiest of doe eyes, a whine escapes your lips as your hand wraps around his length. red at the tip and thick, aching for a release of his own.

“wanna taste too” you ask, so gently, so innocently against his cock.

“taste all you want, honey.” he replies, filled with an admiring yet anticipating look.

you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, savouring the taste of him. opening your mouth wider you take in his full length and you both let out a moan.

you lick from the base to the tip repeatedly. then bringing your focus back to the head of his cock. quickly, you bring one hand to the base and the other to his balls.

“fuck, sweet girl. just like that.” he moans out as his hips buck, forcing the tip of his cock all the way into your mouth. you gag a slight before adjusting yourself and returning back to your pace.

this is like muscle memory to you, but regardless, you would do anything to see his face scrunch in pleasure and his groans fill the room.

and to hear your name fall off his lips.

which he does as you deepthroat him once more, with teary eyes as you squeeze his balls again and moan for his release.

before he does, he reaches for the camera and catches you looking up at him through your eyelashes. cheeks flush and lips slick with spit around his cock.

he hums in enjoyment as the film is placed to the side once again.

“mm you ready to swallow me up, darling?”

“yes”

“every drop?”

“every drop.” you say with a kiss to his tip as your hands begin to work his length.

it wasn't long before his twitches freed the warm seed in your mouth, looking up at john as he watched you gulp it down.

cleaning off a drop from the corner of your lips, he makes you suck his finger before squeezing your soft chin.

“that's my good girl. always so good for me, huh angel?”

you smile. “mhm” you say, pushing him down on the bed by straddling him again. this time your pussy had full access to his bare thighs. buff and hard, you always stared, even in his blue joggers. and especially when he sat down, all sprawled out, fitting both jace and ax on either leg. rae on his chest.

the father he was, so kind and gentle. so patient and caring. supportive and protective.

he was everything you could ask for and more.

he made it easy. even if he wasn't around sometimes, but when he was, you were at total repose.

his hands ruffled up your slip to tug it off and over your head. “need to see my beautiful wife” he says softly. your bra was equally discarded, john smiled as your breasts sat perfectly in front of him, all for him.

laying on his back he reaches for the camera again by the pillow. he puts it up to his face and the flash shines once more, your bottom lip caught in your teeth slightly. “so gorgeous.”

he sits back up and pulls your hips closer, your nipples rubbing against his chest hair. you whine out gently. his hands cup the curves of them as your hands play with his hair. he leaves warm kisses on the crook of your neck, down to your collarbone and back up to your lips.

you roll your hips habitually, the base of his cock swiping your clit just for a moment. “let me feel you john.” you plead, mouth close to his ear. “i want to feel you deep inside me.”

john lifted your body up in order to slide his cock to your entrance. sitting down on the thick length, you let out a throaty moan. you’d been craving this the whole night. your legs wrap around his waist, putting the both of you into a sitting position with his cock tucked in you.

“feels so good” you breathed out.

“you hug my cock so well, darling.” john says, as you move slowly.

you both shared long, passionate kisses as you continued to gracefully move your hips. the feeling of him deep in you is already enough to get you somewhere.

john loves this position since he can roam his hands over your body and lock his lips with yours with such comfort and ease. but most importantly: watch you fall apart while his cock is hitting the best places inside of you.

whispering sweet things in your ear, john begins to rut his hips upwards. with his movements, he starts penetrating further up against your g-spot, causing you to whine and squirm in his touch.

“that’s it, sweet girl”

he kept his thrusts steady and firm. you were soon being bounced on his length with the help of his strong thighs and arms. “fuck johnny” you yelped, hands on his shoulders for support and your eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. his head is in between your breasts and sharing some grunts against your shiny skin.

your moist walls naturally squeeze around his length, but you could feel his twitching as the two of you moved in unison.

“cum for me angel. let it all drip down.” john dictates, pressing a kiss to your temple.

you let your hips ride out the fire within you. you rolled them, swayed them, as john still pumped into your core. not soon after, with the way your breasts bounced, and how your moans echoed in the room, his own release found home inside you. the warm feeling, so familiar and so comforting.

as you fell back on the bed, john got up and slipped out of you. you closed your legs but you whined at the void.

“let me see” he says softly, using his palms to spread your legs apart. your conjoined cum began to slip out of your pink pussy. john couldn't help but groan at the sight, your head still a bit high.

“quite lewd don't you think?” he says with a smirk, as he clicked the camera button.

he pushed the seed back in with his fingers, as deep as he could go. you whined and arched a bit at the sensitivity. “need that all tucked in there.”

“feel so full”

“good.” you smile at his words.

you took the camera from his hand, “one left.” he nodded his head in your direction, letting you know you could use the final one.

you looked at his body for a bit, and took your hand to lightly scratch down his chest to his stomach. your eyes tracing his v-line, as his cock slowly began to soften. you kept your hand on his torso as you brought the camera to your face with the other. making sure to check that you capture just enough of him — what you would want to see when the bed is empty.

the click projected the last polaroid from the film cartridge. you sat up, john reaching for the pile he had made of you. you grabbed them, reviewing them with a blush across both of your faces.

“you better hope nobody finds them.”

—

william wasn't a nosy guy. per say. but when he was handed john's wallet, from the captain himself, he couldn't help but notice the bright white bottom frames sticking out of a slot. the more he moved the wallet to grab the card, the more they tried to slip out.

after securing their purchase, and beginning to walk off to the direction of the table, willy kept his head down to look at the wallet in his free hand. john found him on the way, “everything good?” he asked which, startled the blonde, resulting in the drop of the wallet.

and the polaroids all together.

“shit im sorry man” willy said, going down to help grab the fallen articles. john stood still.

despite the fact the light was dim, it was enough for the swede to see who and what the photos were about. he couldn't help but stay eyes wide as he handed the pile and the wallet back to john. william was rarely fazed, or nervous, but this got him.

he was a little surprised to be faced with a smirking john, but nevertheless he apologised again.

“is that um-”

“y/n? yes will, its my wife.”

he nodded along as they walked back to the table. his eyes caught you as you sat with a wide smile talking with the other wags and guys. he didn't want to think of you, his teammate’s — let alone his captain’s — wife, like that but he couldn't help but feel an affinity for you now.

john sat down beside you, arms wrapping around your frame quickly as he kissed your temple. you turned your head to look up at him, giving him a peck on his lips. “come to the bathroom, angel.”

your body tensed at his quiet words, his hand rubbing your arm. “need to feel you. right now.” your legs pressed hard together, giving a light nod, anticipating what was to come.

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[callsign-rogueone]

questions

Ridoc Gamlyn x reader (sweetheart!) Part three of Ridoc and Sweetheart's story words: 2.9k 🏷: no real book spoilers, this will make more sense if you've read Resson (Garrick's version) but it's not required, set a week or two into Iron Flame, this is a sweetheart chapter so warning for intrusive / self-deprecating thoughts and anxiety spirals, I made a bunch of stuff up about Ridoc's life because RY never told us anything, Rhith being a cool mom, this hasn't been proofread, oops. gonna go have a bagel now byeeee

Rhith had told you that Ridoc would meet you at the gates at eleven — so naturally you’ve been standing there since 10:45, rocking back and forth on your heels and peeling your cuticles.

Why did you agree to do this? Actually, this was your idea — why did you bring it up? What if he’s not going to show up, and you’re just going to stand here for an hour like an idiot?

“Hey! Am I late?” he asks, startling you out of your thoughts. He’s a little out of breath, like he’d ran here, but he offers you a wide smile nonetheless.

You open your mouth to speak just as the bells chime. 

“Guess not,” he laughs when they’re done. “You ready to go?”

You nod, stuffing your hands into your pockets so he can’t see the state of your fingers. Thankfully it’s not too hot to wear your flight jacket. This is your first venture into town, and you don’t want to have your relic on display when you’re in a new place — just going is scary enough.

He leads the way — of course he knows where you’re going. He probably goes out every weekend with his friends; another way you’re completely different.

“I figured we could play twenty questions,” he offers. “Get to know each other a little more. You can go first, if you want.”

You take a second to remember how to speak again. “Alright, um… do you have any hobbies?”

“Coming up with jokes is pretty time consuming.”

“And here I thought they were all completely spontaneous,” you say, shaking your head. “Do you write them all down in that fabled diary of yours?”

He laughs. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t actually have one?”

You tilt your head to the side, considering it. “Only because I don’t see you spending your free time sitting down, writing.” 

“You wound me, sweetheart. I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of writing complete sentences.”

“I never said you weren’t. I just said that I didn’t see you doing it.”

“Fair. Tell me about your book,” he prompts. “The one you’re always carrying around.”

“That’s not a question.”

He gives you a sly smile. “Well played. I’ll rephrase, then. What’s the book about? Do you like it?”

“That’s two questions.”

He laughs, warm and full. “I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Three.”

“Okay, okay. The first one, then — what's it about?”

“The main character is a trained assassin who is called before the king to join a contest to become his hitman, basically. But the contestants keep getting murdered in the night by some creature that they can’t track down.  It’s part of a series, but I’ve never seen the other volumes anywhere. I like to imagine a different ending every time I read it.”

“You’ve read it more than once?”

You ignore the fact that that’s yet another question, answering it without protest. “Yeah. I know that’s dumb, but it was the book I was in the middle of when my life went to shit. It’s technically property of the library in Aretia, but it was burnt to the ground, so I never gave it back.”

Your heart beats a little faster at the mention of your hometown, and you immediately regret bringing it up, but thankfully Ridoc seems none the wiser. 

“There’s nothing dumb about it if it makes you happy.”

You’ve just stepped into the tiny restaurant when a man that you guess is the owner sees Ridoc and pulls him into a tight hug. “I was wondering when you’d bring your girlfriend!”

Your cheeks warm, but you don’t correct him — that would be too awkward.

Ridoc doesn’t correct him either. “I set up Ezra here with ice that never melts,” he explains with a smile.

“It’s been a blessing. Keeps everything fresh longer, so I don’t have to waste it. You two sit — I’ll make you something special, on the house.” He disappears into the tiny kitchen in the back, leaving the two of you alone in the nearly-empty dining room. 

Ridoc gestures to a table in the corner, away from the door, and you settle into the chair silently. You can’t help but run through Garrick’s mental checklist — your back is to the wall, and you have clear sight of the two exits. You have a knife in your right boot and one in your left sleeve — plus the blunt one laid on the table in front of you. The fork would probably do more damage, though.

“I think it’s your turn.”

“Hm? Oh. Right.” You take a moment to look at him. “Why are you here?”

He gives you a stupid grin. “Because you asked me on a date.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I mean, why Basgiath? Why the rider’s quadrant?”

“Oh, I know. I just wanted to remind you that this whole thing was your idea. But really… probably because I’m an adrenaline junkie who feels like he has to prove to the world that he’s not an idiot. And I’ve always admired the riders and their magic. We can do some pretty cool shit.” 

There’s a pause, and his voice softens as he continues. “I know you didn’t want to be here, so I probably sound super ignorant saying all that. I do think it’s fucked up that you didn’t get a choice — and the way that they handled all of it.”

“I respect your answer. It was honest.”

His turn for a question. “How do you feel about it, really, being here? Not here as in here,” he clarifies, tapping the table, “but at Basgiath.”

You look at him for a second. “Is that your question, or…”

“It can be. But if you don’t want to talk about it, we can go back to the dumb ones.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say quietly, thinking for a second. “I’ve accepted it, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.”

He’s quiet, giving you space to elaborate — the same way Garrick does; not prying, but silently offering to let you tell him what you’re thinking, if you want to.

“Challenges are the one thing here that doesn’t scare me, because I don’t have to think about it anymore. I know what to do if someone takes a swing at me, and I know how to disarm someone, because Garrick made me practice hundreds of times. But everything else…” 

“Is uncertain and unfamiliar, and therefore scary,” he finishes for you. 

You’re a little surprised by the gentle tone of his voice, the lack of judgment in his words. “That pretty much sums it up.”

Another pause.

“I’ve had an anxiety disorder pretty much my whole life,” you admit. “I was that kid in school that everyone thought couldn’t speak, because I never talked to anyone, except my siblings. Liam was my first real friend who was my age. He didn’t mind the quiet. We would just sit together, and he’d do his wood carvings while I read my books. That was good enough for both of us.”

“Where are they now? Your siblings, I mean.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking down at the tablecloth and the barely distinguishable pattern of flowers woven into it. 

“I know that’s two in a row for me,” he says, backpedaling. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I had a brother and a sister. They were eight and ten years older than me, but they were my best friends. I think they knew that I didn’t have anyone my age, so they always let me tag along for everything until they left for Basgiath.”

“They went here?”

You nod. “As infantry. When they graduated, they joined Fen Riorson’s movement, and a few years later, they were executed along with my parents.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Something compels you to keep talking, to push past the awkwardness and condolences. “I don’t mind talking about them. It’s hard, but they were an important part of my life, and they deserve to be remembered. Losing them was devastating, but Garrick and my foster sister helped fill that void.”

You trace a fingernail over one of the tiny flowers. “I think… I think that’s why I kept pushing you away, and why I haven’t really made any friends here. Being marked doesn’t help, but I can never let myself get close to anyone, because everyone I’ve ever been close to has left me, one way or another.”

You can’t bring yourself to say “died” — and that wouldn’t be quite correct, either. Garrick is very much alive, last you’d heard, but he’s at least a twelve hour flight away. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I only met her twice, but she was always kind to me and everyone she met.”

It takes you a second to realize that he means your foster sister — as far as Ridoc and the rest of the school know, she’d died at Resson along with Liam and Soleil.

“She was,” you say softly. 

It feels weird speaking about her in the past tense. You know she’s not dead, that she’s safe with Brennan and the elders, but the last time you saw her, she might as well have been — she’d felt so cold, and looked so drained, unable to respond to you or even open her eyes. 

She has to be awake by now, starting to recover. She has to push through, if for no reason other than that it would absolutely shatter both you and Garrick if she didn’t. 

Ridoc exhales, choosing his next words carefully. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that, especially so young. But for what it’s worth, which probably isn’t a lot — I think you’re handling it all incredibly well, and you’re really brave for it.”

You, handling anything well? and being brave? Yeah, right. You take a sip of water to cover the look of dry disbelief on your face, but he sees it anyway. 

“I mean it. Bravery isn’t “never being scared”, it’s “being scared but doing the scary thing anyway”, and you’ve been doing that every day for the last year — for your whole life, honestly. I think that’s admirable.”

You blink at him for a moment, surprised. 

“It’s true,” Rhith says gently. 

“Thank you,” you say softly — to both of them. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

He offers you a soft smile. “I think that’s enough deep questions for now. Thank you for telling me all of that, though. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” you agree. “But I feel… lighter.”

“Lighter is good.”

Ezra arrives at the perfect time, holding a tray with two plates of steaming noodles and two glasses of water, placing them in front of you and making a quick exit.

Ridoc brushes a hand against his glass, and you watch the pattern of frost crawl over the edges as it chills itself near instantly. “Want me to do yours?”

You blink, realizing he’s speaking to you. “Sure. Thank you.”

He pushes the cold glass toward you, taking the other and chilling it for himself.

The question comes out before you can think. “How long did it take you to get used to the cold?”

He looks up at you, surprised. “Not long. A week, maybe. I run hot, so sometimes it’s kinda nice.”

You nod in understanding. He’d been warm to the touch when he’d wrapped his arms around you, and you’d melted right into him. That was a first. But so is this, and it seems to be going okay.

You both eat without further discussion, every minute of quiet a little more comfortable than the last. The food is good — better than anything they serve at Basgiath. 

“So, where’s home for you?” you ask after a while.

“Deaconshire,” he answers. “My dad’s still out there. It’s been just me and him for a while.”

“Not too far, then,” you comment, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he hadn’t mentioned his mother. 

“Yeah. I’ve thought about going AWOL for an afternoon, just to see him for an hour or two. But at least the letters will arrive fast.”

“Right,” you say softly, pushing the last piece of pasta around your plate idly. 

It hadn’t really sunk in yet that you can write letters now, as a second year. You could write to Garrick, but it would be too dangerous to send anything to Aretia, with the professors reading everything to make sure there’s no classified information being spread. You might be able to write to the Duke, and hope he passes it on to the right people, but that would still be deemed suspicious. 

Maybe Bodhi could help you.

“Where’d Garrick get stationed?” he asks.

“Samara,” you answer quietly. 

He winces, knowing that’s right on the front between Navarre and Poromiel, but he recovers quickly. “He’s with Xaden, right? They’ll take care of each other.”

“Yeah.”

“They’ll be fine,” he reassures. “They were the two biggest, most intimidating dudes in fourth wing. Nobody’s going to mess with them — but if anyone’s dumb enough to try, they’ll get what’s coming to them. And they can definitely kick ass in the air, too.”

He’s right — they’ll be fine.

Probably.

“Yeah,” you say again, hoping it sounds convincing. “They can definitely hold their own.” But against wyvern… what if what happened to Deigh happens to Chradh or Sgaeyl, and there’s nothing they can do? 

You force the thought out of your head before the universe can hear it and make it come true. 

“You ready to head back?” he asks gently.

You nod in affirmation, and he gets up, finding Ezra. The owner bids him a cheerful goodbye that includes a hearty pat on the back, while you stand by the table and offer him a weak wave and a soft thank you.

The walk back to the school is quiet, only the crunching of gravel under your boots, but this time the silence isn’t as loud.

You’ve already said everything you needed to say, laid all your cards face up on the table and shown them to the other — almost all of them, you think with a little flare of guilt, but there are some things you just can’t tell anyone, for the sake of Tyrrendor in its entirety.

“This one’s mine,” you say quietly, stopping in front of your door. 

You call it yours, but it doesn’t feel that way. Just because you sleep here and your stuff is piled up in the corner, yet to be unpacked, doesn’t make it feel like yours, and doesn’t make it feel safe, despite the ward that Garrick had helped you put up before he left for Samara with Xaden.

Ridoc offers you a warm smile. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. I’d really like to see you again, if you want.”

“I’d like that too.”

He lingers, and for a moment you’re worried that he’s expecting something of you, but he remains a few steps away, his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” you add. “For today. And for finding me yesterday.”

“Of course, sweetheart. And next time you start to feel that way, you can have Rhith tell Aotrom to get me, okay? You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone.”

“Okay,” you say softly. 

He gives you another knee-weakening smile before he heads off, disappearing into a room that must be his — eight doors down, on the other side of the hall.

You make it inside just as the bells strike twelve thirty. The afternoon is still young.

You decide to unpack — starting by shoving the box of your sister’s things into the bottom of the armoire. You’d burned most of her stuff, to maintain the appearance that she’s actually dead, but you and Garrick had both taken some for yourselves. Malek couldn’t get mad about that, right?

You don’t know if you should worry what he thinks or not — you despise him for taking everyone away from you, but you need to remain in his good graces if you want to keep the few people you have left. But you aren’t sure how — it remains unclear what you did, or didn’t do, to deserve that. 

“It was nothing you did,” Rhith says gently, startling you. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

“Sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to project that to you.”

“We’ve talked about the apologies, sweet one,” she prods. “They’re never necessary.”

“Sor—” you stop yourself before you can finish the word. “I’ll work on that.”

She changes the subject for you. “I’m proud of what you did today. I know that was difficult for you.”

“It’s easier with him,” you say quietly. “I don’t know why, but it is.”

“Many things don’t require explanation. It is enough to simply appreciate them.” 

Spoken like a true green. “I wish I could be as logical as you,” you sigh. 

“There is value in both logic and emotion, but there is a balance to be found between them.”

You sit with the statement for a moment as you start to fold the laundry you’d shoved into a bag and dragged up the stairs when you’d moved, trying to smooth out the wrinkles to no avail.

“What do you think?” you ask. “about him, I mean.”

“I think he has a good heart. He genuinely cares for you, but it is your decision whether to trust him or not. And even if you do, there are some things that he can never know.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I know.”

“I’m proud of you, my girl.”

You’re a little bit proud of yourself too.

[izzabela]

Could you please write about earthrealm reader gets talked into by a few of the other champions to go back to outworld and when she does, she finds Syzoth at the entrance and spends the day with him and before she leaves he asks her to stay with him bc he loves her and wants to be with her?

Inter-dimensional Love - Syzoth x fem!reader

in which Syzoth falls for you at first sight

a/n: something something syzoth would be such a devoted husband

ship[s]: syzoth x fem!reader

warning(s): none, post kanon

"No, I'm not going!" you squeal behind your dorm door. Kung Lao and Johnny are trying to push in, though, shoulders ramming into the door.

"Come on, dragonfly!" Johnny draws your name out. "You have to go! No one'll be here since it's everyone's shooting day for my moooovieeee!"

You groan, weighing your options for your weekend plans. Yes, it would be great to train alone, even better without your idiot friends around. But, you're alone- and to be fair, it would be pretty fun to see the creative process of Johnny and his movies.

"Move out of the way," you tell them from the door. You can hear them step away, and you take this time to grab a little crossbody bag to shove some essentials in.

Opening the door, your hands are on your hips. Johnny is full on grinning, and Kung Lao is immediately behind you to push you to the portal.

"Finally! I am no longer a victim to Johnny!" he cries happily, and you roll your eyes playfully as you're being led.

You (joyfully) endure bickering between Johnny and Kung Lao before finally meeting up with Raiden and Kenshi. Raiden waves while Kenshi gives a nod of acknowledgement.

"Good afternoon, are you joining us today?" Raiden asks, and you sigh as you shrug.

"I was drugged and dragged out against my will," you feign depression and mimic a helpless maiden. Kenshi chuckles.

"As much as I hate shooting, Outworld is a beautiful place," all of you walk through the portal. "Just remember that it's temporary, and that we are just guests."

You nod, and the image of the maple trees and greenery of the temple transforms into white ceramic stone, beautiful blue skies, and foreign greenery and shrubs not known to you. It was intoxicating, Outworld mimicking a strong liquor that one gets addicted to.

In front of you, a woman in yellow and silver stands proud, along with other similar-looking women. A woman in blue and silver is present as well, and a man dressed in all green with lizard-like tattoos stands to her side.

"Welcome back, Earthrealm champions and warriors," the woman in yellow announces. "Though, I do not recognize you. State your business."

You gulp, explaining carefully to make sure you say the whole truth. How you were chosen as a champion, but due to your inadequate skills, you were benched for more intense training. How you avoided filming because you did not take part in armageddon.

"Basically, dragonfly over here won't do nothing but buzz, buzz, buzz," Johnny finishes for you, and you smile awkwardly.

"Accepted. I am Tanya, leader of the Umgadi, the Empress and the Princess's personal guards. Outworld welcomes you with open arms," her smile is cordial, but it isn't unkind.

"I extend my welcome to you as well," the blue woman steps forward. "I am Princess Kitana, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army." You bow in response.

You turn to the man in green, who just stares at you intently, his pupils growing narrow and his iris's taking over.

"Will you not introduce yourself?" you ask carefully. Both women look at the man, and the green-clad man only moves when Kitana gently nudges his shoulder.

"Ah! Apologies.... I am Syzoth, Royal Emissary to the Imperial Crown and to the Zaterrans." You nod, though your eyes still linger over him.

As Tanya leads the way again to the palace, you take in the surroundings of Sun Do. Once reaching the opening from the portal entrance of the city, you guys hop in a carriage, taking the scenic route to soak in the city.

You and Syzoth are paired together with Raiden and Kitana. You're not really sure where the others are, and not like you care, when you whip your phone to take photos for your friends and family to see.

"What... is that?" Syzoth asks, his face practically over your shoulder as you turn your head to meet his gaze.

"I-it's a cellphone," you answer bashfully, cheeks warm at the proximity. "I have not been here before, so I would like to cherish it."

Kitana removes her mask, her face scrunched up a bit as she also asks you some questions.

"Are you not here for the movie shoot? With Johnny?" she asks, and you shake your head before answering.

"Kung Lao and Johnny wouldn't leave me alone when it came to me coming to see Outworld. I caved, so now I'm here." Raiden shakes his head in disappointment, and Kitana chuckles lightly at the anecdote. Seems she knows Kung Lao and Johnny well enough that something like that would happen.

"Princess, if I may," Syzoth speaks. "I would like to show her places not just in the palace." Kitana quirks a brow as she flicks her leg over her knee.

"You will have to ask Tanya about this," she states. "Why the interest, Syzoth? She is here for the shoot..." You interrupt them.

"I mean, not necessarily. I don't mean offense when I say this, but I may be bored just hearing Johnny yell 'cut!' over and over again." Kitana flashes a smile in amusement.

"It can be tiring... Very well. When we arrive to the palace, you may explore the city with Syzoth," Kitana rests her hands in her lap again. "Just do not be separated under any circumstance."

You both nod, and you can't wait for the carriage to stop at the palace steps.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once at the palace's staircase to the doors, Kitana immediately informs Tanya of the change of plans. Surprisingly, she does not reject the idea.

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact your fighting skills lack.

Regardless, Syzoth immediately takes your arm and drags you around the bustling capital. The area closest to the castle is where the wealthy live. Huge, white stone buildings tower over the clean streets, and many of the stores are similar to the boutiques you see at home.

"This is where people in the court, merchants, or wealthy business owners live," Syzoth explains as the people wave and smile at you and him.

"Normally, they are not this kind to outsides. But, since you are with me, it is... manageable," you frown a bit, but you still take this time to look around and take pictures.

"You are nice, though, Syzoth," you offer a kind rebuttal. "Johnny talks about how adorable you can be sometimes."

Syzoth can't help but feel warm in his cheeks too, and behind him his tail is out and wagging. You look behind as well, and you cover your smile to take in the image of a grown man's tail wagging.

As you two walk, you don't realize that the crowds have grown a bit bigger, and there are definitely more people around. You can smell different foods in the air, different spices and herbs on sale, not forgetting the pungent smell of meat as well.

Voices shout in the distance, you can hear babies crying and children laughing too. The sizzle of oil on a hot pan, and the faintest sounds of music creat a harmonious symphony of natural bustle.

"This is the heart of Sun Do," Syzoth announces. "I prefer to stay here more so than the upper side of the capital."

"Why?" you ask.

"It reminds me of Zaterra, Zikandur province up north."

You listen to Syzoth talk about his life as a Zaterran shifter, how he was bullied and practically exiled. How he lost his family and friends, then gained some, and how his people look to him as a hero.

"And you? What is your life in Earth and Earthrealm?" he asks. You laugh nervously as you try to talk about something else.

You speak about your life as a training champion, how you work at a coffee shop, and how your life is incredibly mundane when not training or on missions. You mention your family and friends, and you show him pictures of them too.

"Beautiful..." Syzoth breathes, but he isn't looking at the pictures- he's looking at you. You turn away, hands cupping your face as you try to hide the obvious flush on your cheeks. However, Syzoth is trying to find your face, leaning over closer and closer to you.

"F-Food! Let's get food!" you exclaim, taking his wrist as you drag him to the nearest stall and push him in front to order food for you. You watch as Syzoth carries your food on a stick, and he carries a bag of... black chips?

"What is that? Chips?" you reach in to take one, and Syzoth is oddly excited.

"I did not know human can stomach insects and bugs," Syzoth said excitedly as he grabs a handful of his "chips". The insect is in your hand, but you turn to him with wide eyes and tears forming as you mumble a "what" out.

Syzoth sets his food down to try and calm you down, causing a little scene as your tears fall gently and slowly. His hands are calloused and slightly rough, but it's somewhat soft as he coos you and flicks your tears away.

"I did not mean to scare you! Please eat your food, it will make you feel better," Syzoth tries to calm you down, and you laugh wetly as you take a little bite.

Once calm, Syzoth loops your arm in his as you two walk together as he points out different spots in the heart of Sun Do.

He points out the spot where he helped Johnny and the others in escaping the General and Reiko. He shows you his favorite stalls for fried bugs and all things insects.

He also points out where he stays when he is not on emissary duties, a little room that's part of a huge building of small rooms. Kind of like an apartment complex.

You don't even notice the time pass, your only indication being the that the sky was now a dark navy, silver stars illuminating your scenery up above.

And another thing, Tanya and Kitana find you guys sitting together on a bench in front of the once busy street.

"There you two are," Tanya huffs. "The shoot has finished, and we are ready to escort you all back."

You and Syzoth nod, though you notice that Syzoth frowns a little more than smiles.

"The carriage awaits us, let us be on our way," Kitana says, hand out waiting for your acceptance.

You walk back with Kitana and Tanya as Syzoth sinks a little behind you three. You tell the princess and the guard of your experience, and how you wish to see more in the future.

The conversation continues on the carriage, and Kitana asks questions about Earth. Honestly, they were quite silly: questions about magic users, if people live long, and other childish questions.

Once at the path to the portal, Syzoth gets out first and comes to your side, hand out as a help for you to get down. You smile, stepping down gently as your eyes linger on him for a bit.

As you and your friends approached the portal, you can't help but look back continuously at Syzoth. Something about him made you want to stay- not go home.

"You comin' or not, slowpoke?" Johnny asks as the others walk in the portal. The words are stuck in your throat, trying to find a way to explain to them your change of mind.

"I think... I think I'll stay here. Just for another day," you say as you turn to look at Syzoth.

Syzoth is beaming, and he pulls you close to him as you and him run off together towards the carriage. Before Kitana, Tanya, or Mileena could say anything, Liu Kang interrupts.

"Let them be," is all he says, accompanied by his kind, signature smile.

You'd be back home, just... not at this very moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i wish syzoth was real

anyways, see yall in the next fic!

[sleepynoons]

akaashi x gn!reader, sfw

cw: mentions of skin picking (akaashi picks at his fingers)

notes: sorry for being afk lol was moving back into college, and now that i have settled back in, here's my obligatory, written-in-30-minutes college!au akaashi bc he is The College Au. happy that i'm beginning to write for hq characters bc they all mean so much to me. also requests/suggestions are closing this weekend, so pls drop by my ask box by then if you want smth!! feel free to drop by for no good reason, too!

THE TWO of you don’t even have to say anything. one glance at each other, and you both shut your eyes and exhale deeply. 

to be fair, neither of you are surprised either. the two other students in your project group are notorious for skipping classes and buying homework answers off of other students. it should have been a given they wouldn’t help out on this presentation either.

the grandfather clock against the adjacent wall is an old thing, really – wood faded and paint chipped off –, yet the ticks of its hands click crisply in contrast to the soft sounds of laminated textbook pages flipping and footsteps rubbing against carpet. just like an old grandparent would, every tick of the clock is a nagging reminder directed at you and akaashi: “that’s one less minute you have to work on that project! oh, and another! are the two of you ever going to get started?”

you pull out your chair and sit next to akaashi, who looks more exhausted than he usually does. there are dark, dark shadows under his eyes, and there are swollen cuts around his cuticles from where he tugs on petty, persistent hangnails.

you shove a hand into the back pocket of your pants. i thought i had one on me, you think, pouting slightly as you continue to feel through crushed receipts, loose threads, and whatever other junk you crammed in back there. finally, you feel the familiar papery texture. there it is!

“akaashi, here.” you slide it over to him, and he glances at it before focusing back onto his laptop screen. it’s almost like he doesn’t recognize the object as he says nothing for a few moments, but then, he looks back and purses his lips, his best attempt at a grateful smile in his current state.

“thanks for the bandaid,” he mutters as he begins to open up the packaging.

you shrug your shoulders and furrow your brows. “i should’ve brought more,” you say. “that’s on me.”

he shakes his head as he wraps the bandaid around the knuckle of his thumb – the most tortured of all his fingers. “don’t apologize. i should be the one taking care of myself anyway.”

“i doubt a single college student can take care of themself, let alone a project meant for four people,” you groan. 

“they don’t count as people,” he deadpans.

you choke a laugh. “akaashi, don’t be mean.”

“i’m only stating a fact.”

at this point, akaashi has already returned to working, typing away and switching tabs every so often. you, too, grab your things to contribute.

the project is more tedious than anything, and luckily, the two of you had completed your respective one-fourths of the work ahead of time. however, the two of you were hoping – naïvely, might you add – that your other teammates would pull through, so you had procrastinated on finishing their parts until the day before the deadline.

and things continued downhill from there. you and akaashi were supposed to meet in the morning to dedicate the whole day to completing and revising the presentation. however, his research advisor emailed him last-minute to help with some urgent manuscripts, so the two of you delayed until 4pm. but then you got roped into a club event, which included dinner and a drinking afterparty, and not wanting to cause a ruckus with your seniors, you obliged. needless to say, it’s now 9pm and there is a whole half-empty presentation waiting to be filled.

at least the one thing that is working in your favor is your mechanical teamwork. you work on a section, akaashi on another, and when both of you are done, you switch to polish each other’s works. akaashi is also a fantastic writer and critic, so not only do you feel like you’re learning from his suggestions, you’re also not devastated in the process. even with potentially very shallow questions, he’s patient.

about an hour in, you mumble, “wait, i’m not sure if this makes sense.” you turn your computer towards him, and he leans forward, slightly in front of you, to see clearer.

from this proximity, you notice the way his nose twitches, along with the way his lips form a pout, as he readjusts the bridge of his glasses. you can also trace the curvature of his ears, following the round of the helix down to the lobe. and his eyebrows –

then again, these are things you’ve known for a while now. you’re just taking note of details you’ve already memorized. you’ve come to terms with your crush on akaashi since the second week of the fall term, truly having experienced love at first sight. but you’re too tired for a relationship, and if you’re exhausted, well, akaashi is probably having a worse time.

and by the looks of it, akaashi suddenly sniffles. you pull out a tissue immediately.

he chuckles as he takes it. “that pocket of yours is pretty handy.”

you frown. because you did miss a detail.

akaashi is flushed from his cheeks up to his temples and ears. and upon reflection, his voice sounded more gravelly, without its usual snark, when he was making the jab at your project mates earlier.

oh. 

“are you sick?” you ask.

the first time he doesn’t hear you, intently reading through your write-up. you ask again, this time also tapping his shoulder.

“sorry, what?” he mumbles.

“akaashi, i said, are you sick?”

a confused expression flashes across his face before ot returns to its typical unbothered look.

“don’t worry about it,” he grunts,

“you should get some rest,” you insist.

“and what about the project then?”

you really shouldn’t be doing this to yourself because it would mean pulling an all-nighter, but you also don’t want akaashi to work while he’s under the weather. “i’ll just do it myself. i’ll send you everything by the morning, so you can take a look over it when you wake up, and then we can submit it by class time, yeah?”

he gawks at you, terrified at your proposal. he shakes his head, adamant when he says, “there’s no way i could let you do that. you need to rest, too.”

“not as much as you,” you argue back. “if you’re not too sick, then you can sleep it off and wake up early to help. but right now, you need to go back to your dorm.”

he fights back, trying to convince you of otherwise, but you’ve already crossed your arms across your chest firmly and are staring at him with a quirked eyebrow, visibly unimpressed.

akaashi can only roll his eyes at your stubbornness.

as he packs his things, he looks over his shoulder at you and asks, “is there anything i can do to make it up to you?”

“akaashi, are you being serious? you don’t need to make up anything. just feel better for me, alright?”

now he’s looking at you like you’re a total idiot.

you just sigh.

“fine, just treat me to a meal or something, alright? now go.”

“i was going to take you out for dinner anyway, but fine. i’ll pay for lunch tomorrow.”

“yeah, sounds good. now go!”

akaashi leaves, and you return back to your work.

the hours fly by. other students begin to filter out, and by the time it’s past midnight, you’re only accompanied by a night-shift student librarian and the grandfather clock. you lean back into your chair, taking a quick breather.

you think back to your conversation with akaashi before he left. gotta finish the project before he wakes up, only six more slides to go, i wonder what we should have for lunch, he did say we’d get to eat together another time –

you jolt. sitting upright, your eyes widen slowly as you recount akaashi’s words. he said he would take me out anyway.

are you hallucinating? so delusional that you can’t tell between fantasy and reality? he said those exact words, right? did he mean it the way you think it means?

the clock chimes loudly as a new hour begins. you’re thrown back to work, but really, you don’t even know how you managed to finish the assignment because, the entire time, you kept thinking about akaashi and his intentions.

what does he mean?

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 30 “Gross The Line” [Episode List] After Dave rips a couple of his well-known huge farts on his face, Tim finds the guts to ask his gassy bro something...

POV: Tim

Gross The Line

This Friday night we had no plans (once you’re past 30, this is usually considered a win).

Both me and Dave, after a tough week of work, decided to stay at home and apparently our buds had the same idea as no one wanted to do anything. To be completely honest, Dave did have something resembling a plan for tonight: Dana, his girlfriend, was coming here for the weekend, nothing new by a long shot, but Dave still wanted to give our small house what passes for a “cleaning session”.

To be fair, both me and Dave know how to manage this sort of stuff, with Dave actually being much more organised than he seems. 

Each day of this past week, we decided to do our chores after we were done working.

Speaking of which, since I worked from home, I was simply wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, while my roommate sported his usual dark brown hoodie and a pair of dark blue, almost grey, loose sagging jeans.

After doing the living room, the kitchen and the bathroom (on different days, nonetheless), we’re now cleaning his bedroom: we made the (king-sized) bed, sorted Dave’s wardrobe a bit, all that kind of stuff we had to do regardless of our guests anyway (and Dana was very chill anyway). 

We kind of lost rack of time, but given we started right after we finished working, it was around 6:30 PM, late-ish afternoon basically.

“We still got plenty of time.” I remarked, while folding a t-shirt.

“Yep.” Dave replied. “We could make a mess and still have time to clean up, if you know what I mean.” he winked at me, glancing at his king-sized bed.

“Well, you are pretty fast.” I made fun of him.

His response was a pair of socks harmlessly hitting my face.

“I see you’re done with those.” I sarcastically said as I picked them up.

“Yeah, the wardrobe’s pretty much done, thanks.” he said, as I handed the last t-shirt to him.

Honestly, we did a pretty good job. This wasn’t the first time we did this kind of stuff at all, but I was impressed by how fast we got things done this time.

“Let’s make this last.” I stated, admiring how clean the room was.

Dave stood next to me, arms crossed. “Yep. It smells good, even!”

“Yes it doe- I can’t believe I fell for it.”

My friend just casually ripped a monstrously loud 3 second fart, the sound easily silencing my voice. He winked at me again, with a smug smile, knowing very well that, well, I appreciated.

“Please don’t ruin everything we’ve done.” I jokingly begged him.

“Hey!” he stated, faking an assertive tone. “My bedroom, my rules.”

A moment of silence, then I heard him sniffing the air around him.

“But yeah…” he admitted, trying not to laugh. “That was terrible.”

The stench reached both of our nostrils and, believe it or not, it was bad. Yes, I have a fart kink, but some things can be too much to handle even for me, and to be honest I’m here more for the amazing loud sounds.

Dave opened the window just a bit so the bedroom won’t stink like rotten meat when Dana steps in later.

“Unless your ass has more things to say, that should be enough.” I said, looking at him and the window.

My bro shook his head in response and laughed a bit.

“Dude if you want to hear more farts you can just ask for it ya know.” He casually said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “You know I don’t care.” he then added, as he walked past me to check his phone on the bed, again so casually it almost confused me. Was he being sarcastic or not?

A moment of silence, as I needed a moment to understand what he meant.

Again, I do have a fart kink but… I wasn’t asking for anything. Hell, even though it’s been more than a year since he found out and accepted me, I never ever even had the guts to properly ask him for, well, a “fart session”, because at this point that’s what often happens between us. We’d go days or even weeks without face-farting (even though I’d hear him farting A LOT, either to tease me or just randomly like bros do), then Dave would just straight-up “bully” me by being the most amazing and open-minded straight gassy bro in the world. 

A blessing and a curse at the same time.

“I wasn’t asking for anything.” I stated.

Dave snorted and smiled, eyes glued on the phone. “Yeah… sure.”

I admit I felt a bit… am I in the position to say ‘offended’? 

I… I don’t want him to think that he’s my bro because of, well, this kinky stuff. 

I stepped closer to him. “Again: I wasn’t asking.”

“Dude.” he looked up to me. “It’s fine. We’re good.” he laughed.

A few moments of silence, interrupted by my friend’s tapping on his phone. I didn’t like this atmosphere. Was I being an asshole? Dave was just being… so casually open-minded about my gross kink and that’s how I thank him? By thinking ill of him?

He doesn’t care… and yet some times I almost wish that he’d did.

Maybe I just like drama?

I decided to break the tension (which wasn’t even there, but anxiety took me over quickly).

“Well… what if I was asking… not that I was…” I tried to say.

Dave’s only response was just turning to me again, listening with a bored, yet amused-ish look on his face.

“I’d never ask you.” I finally said, after stuttering a bit more.

My friend shook his head again, amused by my response.

“Okay… thanks for sharing. Very interesting.” he said, sarcastically.

I took a deep breath. “I’d never ask because...”

Dave narrowed his eyes and interrupted me with the muffled sound of another loud fart, another quick thunder, lasting “only” 5 seconds. Despite having his denim, sagging ass glued to the bed, the roar could still be heard clearly. At least the stench was trapped there… for the most part.

“Good one.” I tried to joke. Then went back to being a stuttering idiot. “I’d never ask because…”

My friend interrupted me again, this time by standing up and stepping towards me, looking annoyed but still weirdly amused.

“Yes yes because you don’t want me to think that we’re bros only because you’re a kinky bastard and I just happen to be the fart king, right? Is this what you’re trying to say? Is that correct?”

I just remained silent and took a deep breath… inhaling some of the stench that used to be trapped under Dave’s ass.

“Bro I told you a million times that I don’t care.” he laughed. “I do appreciate that you don’t ask.” he admitted “But… that won’t stop me from destroying your face.” 

That… that didn’t go into the direction I thought it would.

“Sorry.” I simply said.

Dave just laughed at how… needlessly stupid I was being.

“Alright. Looks like we’re gonna make a mess after all.” 

He stared at me with a smirk. He then quickly grabbed my arms and tripped me over so I could fell on his bed.

“Bro, it’s fine, sorry I sai-“ I tried to say, actually trying not to laugh.

“Hey, my bedroom, my rules.” he remarked, stepping on the bed, easily towering over me.

He took a few steps and after I ended up with my head between his feet, he made sure to align his sagging ass with my face, so he could squat down and just use my nose as a pillow to rest his ass on.

The denim was rough and beautiful to look at, the seams and textures of his jeans tickling my face. I took a deep whiff and I could smell the stench of his previous farts. Since he was sagging, my nose also brushed against his red sweaty underwear, the only thing between my nose and his powerful anus.

After a few seconds of silence, he stopped moving and ripped a huge blast, up close and personal, down my throat. Damn, today his ass likes being louder than usual, with the blast almost making me go deaf. It was probably as loud as the previous ones, but since I was with my nose planted into the source of that fart this time, it felt way louder. 

It certainly was longer though, this one lasting about 9 seconds before stopping.

He didn’t move for a few seconds, the only reason being to give me time to, well, properly enjoy the stench, which again I did, but the sounds of Dave’s farts was the main event for me every time he blasted me. I’ll never get used to it, to all of this, to his blasts, to him being so casual and open-minded about my kink.

After a few seconds, he leaned back and spread his legs a bit, still having his ass planted on my face. He did that so he could stare down at me, at the victim of his flatulence, at what remained of my sweaty face.

He was laughing, still sporting that evil smirk.

“I knew you weren’t asking by the way.” he said, and the bastard winked at me one more time.

Before I could say something in return, most likely an insult, my head shook as he ripped yet another blast. He closed his eyes as he kept pushing, as he let his ass roar all over my face; and the fact that I could see him do that, that I could stare right into his eyes as he farted, all while my nostrils were burning, further hardened by boner. 

He sighed in relief and looked down to me one more ime after the 7 seconds blast ended. He then leaned back a bit more, now fully lying on his bed, legs up, with my face still in front of his sagging denim. 

Oddly enough, we remained like that for a couple of dozens of seconds, until my straight bro talked to me. I couldn’t see his face this time: I was too startled to talk, to process how how that was, and my eyes were glued on that smelly “wall” of sagging jeans in front of me, a “wall” that hid my friend’s face from my point of view.

“You alive, bro?” he jokingly asked.

“Sadly, yes.” my deadpan answer.

Dave laughed at my response.

“No worries, I’m brewing a big one that’s gonna kill ya for good.” 

The friendliest, yet hottest threat I ever received.

“Ready?” he then asked.

How did such a simple word become so hot to me is a mystery; but being something that Dave would often say before unleashing some of the loudest, most powerful farts I ever heard certainly didn’t help.

In hindsight, that’s not a mystery at all…

Either way, my answer to his question was another question, and I mustered all the courage I had to actually speak.

“Dave… can I ask you something?” Though it was my boner doing the talk now I’m afraid.

“Sure.” he quickly responded, surprisingly enough.

A few moments of silence, my heart racing fast. I took deep breaths, accidentally inhaling more of the polluted air around me. I was nervous, I was sweating.

“Well, if you have nothing to say, I’m just gonna let my ass speak then.” another hot threat from my bro.

“Okay wait.” I finally said. 

I still couldn’t see my friend’s face as I was resting my head in front of his ass, which covered most most of my view.

“For your next… fart…” I managed to say.

“Yes…?” he said, in a very amusing formal tone of voice.

 “Can you…” I took a deep breath. “Can you, like…”

Dave laughed at me stuttering like an idiot, but I kept going.

“Can you hold my head into your ass?”

First response: silence.

Moments of silence, moments that to me lasted hours.

I did it, I crossed the line. 

I fucked up.

I betrayed my straight bro’s trust by going too far.

He’s Dave, a straight, open-minded friend that accepted my kink and yet I couldn’t help but let my thirst take the wheel, ruining everything.

It doesn’t help that he did hold my head still into his ass as he face-farted me other times in the past, but downright asking him to do it… I’m already regretting it.

That’s too gross.

Then, I felt it.

I just felt it.

I felt his left hand grabbing my head; he raised his left leg and leaned a bit, so he could properly fulfil my request. With a firm grasp, he planted my defenceless, sweaty face straight up into his sagging, smelly denim ass, holding me still, making sure I couldn’t move.

“Wow. You are a kinky bastard after all.” He said. “Just like I’m the fart king” he snickered.

I tried to speak, but talking while your moth is constantly “kissing” your gassy friend’s ass is a bit difficult, yet Dave kind of understood what I was trying to say. He knows me, after all.

“Bro…” He pushed my head even more, my nose almost going through the red fabric of his underwear and right between his asscheeks. “The only thing you should be afraid of is getting exactly what you wish for.”

Another one of those hot threats. Is he doing that on purpose? 

A moment of silence followed… the silence before the storm.

“Ready?”

That was a rhetorical question.

The earthquake that struck my face was as loud as it was powerful. My friend’s ass roared straight into my nostrils and mouth, with Dave making sure my face was glued to his powerful anus, right where it belonged (not that I wanted to move anyway).

The deep, chainsaw-like noise shook the the whole bedroom, and for a moment I thought of the stench that basically ruined all of our hard work of cleaning things up, but my bro cared even less than me about that, as his ass kept screaming at my face, my nose gently brushing between his denim and his underwear. 

My nostrils were burning, my eyes got wet.

On paper, this was nothing new for me: Dave farts in my face very often, even holding my head still like he’s doing now. However… the fact that he did it because I found the guts to ask for it made pre-cum erupt from the tip of my cock (I guess I’m the fast one then) which at this point I assume my bro knows about.

Even though I had my entire face glued to his denim ass, I still managed to get a good look of it and as my face kept getting blasted, I once again realized how lucky I was to have a friend like him. 

Dave had it all: he’s smart, he’s tall, good-looking, funny and, as he put it a few moments ago, he casually happens to be the fart king, and the fact that I have the… I’d say the privilege to get constantly face-farted by him, to admire his ass this up close and personal, was more than I could’ve ever hoped for.

That good-looking guy you saw across the street? Well, he’s actually my bro… and he’s farting in my face.

12 seconds and the fart finally started to lose some of its power. He could rip longer farts than this, natural and/or on command (this time it was all natural, like 99% of the times), which was already impressively long, but given the context this was probably the hottest one he ever ripped all over my face.

After he was done, he simply let me go, or rather, let my head fall as I was completely stunned by what just hit me. I admired that sagging denim ass in front of me a bit more, still engulfed by an invisible cloud of gas.

“Anything else you wanna ask?” he joked, teasing me on purpose.

“Maybe I’ll just ask you to stop.” I played along, though I was being serious.

“Good choice” Dave said, a quick, loud 2-seconds fart following his response.

I managed to stand up, fighting the urge to plant my face into his ass again to properly enjoy that last rip. 

I was feeling all dizzy for all the gas and, well, the massive boner I had.

Dave remained on the bed, sitting, as if nothing gross and kinky happened, reaching for his phone again to check some messages.

The bedroom, no gentle way to put this, smelt like ass because of my friend’s massive farts.

“Welp, much like you, Dana’s coming.” Dave casually commented, eyes on his phone.

“You do realize that this room smells like ass, right?” I told him, ignoring the insult.

“Hey. Not my fault. You asked for it, not me.” he said, with a smirk.

Once again, he proved to me that he just doesn’t care. 

I’m gross and disgusting and while my bro is very aware of the kink… the idea of torturing me is just weirdly amusing to him.

I don’t know why, but that’s how it works.

His bedroom, his rules after all.

The End

[come-away-with-me87]

The Art of Love Chapter 4

Chapter 3 here

******

You typically wore a blouse, pants, and ballet flats to school; it was the most comfortable type of outfit to move around and teach in. On Monday, though, you opted for a different outfit. There was no special reason, you thought to yourself. Today, you decided to wear a pale blue, flowy sundress with a white cardigan, and wedge heels. You took a look at yourself in the full-length mirror in your bedroom, did a little spin, and thought you looked presentable enough. Again, you thought to yourself, there was no special reason for the change in outfit; you just wanted to try something different today. At least that's what you told yourself.

You made it to work at your usual time, and as the students started trailing in, many of them complimented you in their own adorable ways. "You look pretty today, Miss L/N!" one student exclaimed. They always knew how to bring a smile to your face in one way or another. That morning, Mirio dropped Eri off again at school, just as he did on her first day. "Good morning, Miss L/N!" Mirio said with a wide smile. You couldn't help but smile back at him; he had such an infectious personality. "Good morning to you, Mirio. It's nice to see you again." His smile beamed even more when you said that. "Mr. Aizawa will be picking Eri up at school today; he mentioned having a meeting with you?"

"That's right," you replied to him. "That's good! Well, I'm off, I have classes to get to myself." With that, he gave you one last dazzling smile, gave Eri a small hand squeeze and a wink, and took his leave. After Mirio left, you looked down at Eri and gave her a sweet smile, "and how was your weekend, Eri?" She beamed up at you; she seemed a lot happier now than she did during her first week. "It was amazing! I got to spend time with Mirio and Izuku, who gave me candy apples! And I trained with Mr. Aizawa! He said I'm growing stronger every day!" Your heart beamed at her sentiment; she seemed so genuinely happy.

"That's wonderful, Eri! I'm so happy to hear you had a good weekend!" She beamed up at you again; she seemed like such a sweet girl. You couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of trauma that she has been through to bring her to your classroom, but you were grateful she was here. The bell finally rang, so Eri and the rest of the students took their seats. That day, you asked them to draw self-portraits. You were interested in how they viewed themselves.

While they drew their self-portraits, you reviewed their work from the previous week. You looked at Eri's colored mandala once again, thinking of Shouta stating the color choices she made were interesting. Those colors seemed to be the general theme of the majority of the creations she made; variations of purple, green and black. You were interested in talking more to Shouta about her past, and why she seems to normally choose these color themes. You stopped yourself mid-thought; why did your mind keep going to Shouta?

Even though you asked yourself this question, you couldn't lie to yourself; you found him intriguing. You were mesmerized from the moment you laid eyes on him. No man has made you feel anything in years, not since your dear Kento passed. You frowned at the thought of Kento; all of these years later, you did still miss him, and you felt guilty at the thought of even entertaining liking another man. You remembered Kento's funeral, how you decided then and there to close your heart off to relationships from that point forward.

But were you being fair to yourself in this decision? Kento loved you, and would want to see you be happy. You were happy…overall. You absolutely loved your job and your life, but you had to admit you felt lonely at times. You knew that, deep down, Kento would want you to find someone that will open your heart back up. That's not saying that it would necessarily be Shouta Aizawa; you don't even know the man, but Kento would want you to eventually open your heart back up to someone.

You were so lost in your thoughts that day, that you didn't even notice that the bell rang and school day was over. Suddenly, you had a line of students standing in front of you, waiting to hand in their self-portraits. While the students' parents came in to pick them up, you collected their self-portraits, telling them all you would see them the next day. Eri was last in line, and handed in her portrait; it had a child in a light tan dress, wearing what looked to be white bandages going down both arms and legs, and the background was solid black. "Eri…" you trailed off, when you noticed Shouta and another man in the doorway.

You put the drawing down, stood up and welcomed both men in. "Eri, did you have a good day today?" Shouta asked her. She beamed up at him and nodded her head. On the outside, she appeared to be a happy little girl; you could tell that the staff and students at the U.A. took good care of her. However, based on her artwork thus far, this poor little girl is definitely still experiencing inner turmoil. Shouta then turned to you, "hello, Y/N. This is my friend, Toshinori Yagi, or All Might, as you may know him." Toshinori bowed down to you, saying, "it's a pleasure to meet you, young Y/N." You bowed to him, returning the greeting.

Shouta spoke up, "Toshinori is going to take Eri back to the U.A. while you and I talk." He turned to look at Eri again, "Eri, I will see you back at the campus. You'll be on your best behavior tonight, right?" Eri beamed up at him and exclaimed, "I will!" Eri took her leave with Toshinori, leaving you and Shouta alone. You know he was there to talk about Eri, but you couldn't help but feel nervous. Shouta turned back to you, looked you up and down, saying, "you look very nice today." Your heart practically pounded out of your chest at the compliment. What was wrong with you? "Thank you," you breathily replied, "please, have a seat," as you motioned to the seat on the other side of your desk.

******

To be continued…

******

Tag list: @lili-pond ; @jaguarthecat ; @big-denki-energy

[halfthebrain]

Btw, Harvey loves to push Mike into the sunlight and make him face it so he can take a moment to stare at those bright blue eyes even tho Mike is getting blinded. It actually took Mike a second to figure out what the fuck Harvey was trying to do.

Exhibit A)

Harvey waits patiently in the mornings for Mike to wake up and the sun to rise just to open the shades and blind Mike. Sometimes he even holds Mike’s face still to stare. Only after he’s satisfied does Mike get a good morning kiss.

Exhibit B)

At work Harvey sometimes passes by Mike’s cubicle during lunch time, jerking his head for Mike to follow him. Down at the hot dog stand Mike orders for them and Harvey picks a sunny spot to enjoy the mediocre food. When they’re almost finished Harvey tends to jerk Mike’s face around, stating that he’s got mustard on his lip. And fair enough, he does stare at Mike’s lips, but he’s also staring into his (blinded) eyes.

Exhibit C)

When it’s been grey and rainy for over a week in NYC because it’s autumn, going into winter, Harvey books flight tickets down to Miami for the weekend. The moment they step out of the airport Harvey swivels Mike towards the sun while pretending to fumble with their sunglasses before giving Mike his (so he doesn’t get blinded). And maybe Harvey took the orphan to Disney World but that’s another story.

Mike has realised at some point but suffers through it to indulge Harvey. The things one does for love.

Bonus: Harvey’s phone wallpaper is a photo of Mike half squinting in the sunlight, his smile as bright as his blue eyes. He took it on the sunny day Mike said yes to becoming his husband.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Omg Tony would totally go to lengths to show off his marriage! In conversations with other, he'd say "my wife/spouse" or "my marriage" "my wedding" SO SO MANG TIMES. At a certain point, Rhodes would start COUTING "your score today was 17. You said "my wife" 17 times today, man... I'm texting Y/N your score"

Married

Pairing: Tony Stark x Wife! Reader

Warning: 18+ smut mentions, fluff!

.

The glittery rock that sat on your finger shone bright and proud under the morning sun as your turned in your sleep, your left hand resting pretty against the recently vacated spot on your shared bed.

While your chest gentle rose up and down as you slept, the shower turned off and out walked your new husband dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his waist. A soft sigh left your lips as you stirred a little, almost as if you were aware of his presence.

Tony Stark’s heart warmed at the sight of you. A part of him was still in disbelief that he had actually married you and now you officially were his wife. He chuckled at the word as his mind played scenes from the weekend that was by far the best couple of days of his life.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may finally kiss your bride.”

As Rhodey finished, Tony had wasted no time in pulling you in his arms and sealing your marriage in a kiss that you wouldn’t forget in a million years. You had married the love of your life and everybody close to you and Tony were witness to this joyous day.

Half of your reception went in stopping Tony from exaggerating how incredible you were, and giggling every time he introduced you to everyone as his wife, it would take some time getting used to however, you couldn’t be happier being Mrs. Stark.

As Tony admired your beauty, a few stray drops of water fell on your bare back from his hair; he watched the droplets make their way down the dip of your spine, tickling your skin as you stirred some more but refused to wake up.

He traced the marks he’d left last night over your body, claiming you as his, his cock twitching at the memory of your sinful moans.

He bent down to press a soft kiss between your shoulder blades, trailing his lips upwards to your neck and ear where he gently sucked on your earlobe to rouse you from your slumber.

“Good morning wifey.”

Tony had no problem admitting he was obsessed with calling you his wife or Mrs. Stark at any given chance, it was as if his heart pumped an extra amount of love every time he called you that.

He watched your eyelids flutter before opening slightly, smiling when you felt his lips caress your face and saw his fingers play with your own, toying with the wedding bands that you had exchanged less than forty eight hours ago.

“Morning husband. I thought you weren’t going to wake me up…” you murmured with a smile, voice still ladden with sleep.

“I wasn’t, but you looked so stunning, I couldn’t help myself. Plus it is what married people do.” Tony stated matter-of-factly, coaxing you to turn around and face him.

“Is that right?”

“Mmhmm.” He murmured, continuing to kiss the side of your neck, abandoning the towel and sliding inside the sheets with you, in turn waking you up fully now that his colder, wet body made contact with your warmer one.

“Then I guess you will have to sleep on the couch tonight, husband mine.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he resurfaced to look at you, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face with a love-sick expression on his handsome face.

“Why?”

“Well to begin with, you promised me breakfast in bed last night which I don’t see, and you’ve ruined these sheets too.”

“That’s not fair!”

“I’m sorry but it is what married people do.” You smirked before shimmying away from Tony’s arms, giggling as he chased after you.

[cophene]

24 || * • ° protocol concerning broken hearts

previous chapter || author's note || table of contents

pairing : ohshc x gn reader summary : perhaps no one at ouran is more qualified to deal with a broken heart than the host club. with a student’s heartbreak painfully obvious to everyone but themself, the host club takes it upon themselves to remedy that. all against that student’s better judgement. notes : multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 2.5k+

You had made it very clear that you didn’t want anything out of the ordinary for your last day at the Host Club. You just wanted to go about club activities like usual and maybe have a small announcement at the end of the day that you would no longer be a host. The Mori debacle had thankfully died out over the weekend; you didn’t want to stir things up again. Just a nice, quiet afternoon with the Host Club before you ducked out. 

But you knew as soon as you opened the music room doors and a swirl of confetti that greeted you that you would not be having a nice, quiet afternoon. 

“Happy Last Day!” The cheer was so loud you actually stumbled back a step. You opened the door wider to find the music room absolutely packed. Every single one of the Host Club’s guests must have shown up today.

There was raucous applause and cheering, and more confetti rained down on you. A piece stabbed you in the eye and you swore under your breath.

In a choreographed movement, the crowd parted down the middle, revealing a scarlet carpet running length of the room. At its end was Tamaki, sprawled over a throne like an errant prince. 

He smiled at you, his violet eyes gleaming. Extending a graceful hand, he said, “Come forward, my fair knight.”

Well. This was something. 

You shuffled forward, only now realizing that everyone was in various states of royal dress, wide dresses and cravats and waistcoats. Kyoya wasn’t going to scold you for forgetting your costume, was he? You hadn’t even known you were supposed to dress up today.

You finally stopped in front of Tamaki, your scalp prickling from the weight of everyone’s stares. Fanned out on either side of Tamaki were the hosts, their armour practically blinding you. If the twins were supposed to have given you your own suit of armour, they hadn’t delivered.

Someone coughed pointedly. You glanced around, then noticed Renge mouthing at you to kneel. You did so.

“You have served us well during your tenure here,” Tamaki began. His voice rang around the room. “In your time as our Tragic Host, you have upheld the tenets of the Host Club, consistently displaying the qualities of an engaging, considerate host. You have been kind and courteous, and no one can deny that you have been a paragon of manner and class.” 

Your mouth twitched. This sounded familiar. Kyoya had probably written this script for Tamaki, even though you had never once cracked open his obscenely large handbook folder.

Tamaki caught your eye and seemed to hide a laugh. 

“You have been a joy to have around, and we’ll be sad to see you go. We wish you the best in all of your future endeavours. You will always have a place here at the Host Club.”

You just managed to stifle a gasp as Kyoya languidly passed Tamaki a sword. He lightly rested the blade on each of your shoulders before bidding you to rise.

“Henceforth you will bear the seal of the Host Club. Let it be known that you will always be under our protection, no matter the circumstance.”

Everyone broke out into applause as the twins stepped forward and slipped a sash over your head. It was a bizarre mix between beauty pageant and medieval knighting, but you decided not to question it.

An expectant hush descended on the room as you turned to face the crowd. You didn’t have anything prepared, but it seemed right to say something just then.

“Well, um, hey everyone. I’m L/N Y/N, but if you've been around lately, you probably know me as the Tragic Type host.” How did Keiji just get up and do this everyday? It was too difficult to face the guests, so you turned around to look at the hosts instead.

“I actually joined the Host Club while I was having a pretty rough time. I wasn’t feeling the greatest, and that’s where my host persona came from. If I’m being honest, there were some times when I wasn’t acting, and I genuinely was feeling that miserable.

“The Host Club thought they would be able to help me. That they would help me feel like myself again. I never believed them. To be honest, they seemed like the last people who should be helping me.”

A few guests laughed. Haruhi smiled but Renge looked furious.

“But the more time I spent with the Host Club, the more I realized that they were serious. They’re perceptive and considerate and caring. They push you when you need to be, but they look out for you. They’ll have your back and make you laugh and they’ll just—” Your tongue stalled for a beat as it hit you all at once. Everything the Host Club had done for you, intentional or otherwise. You hadn’t realized it, but the moment you had stepped into Music Room 3, the entire Host Club had been in your corner. 

“They’ll put you back together again,” you said, probably too quietly for anyone but the hosts to hear. “They’ll believe in you.”

Honey and Renge were trying not to cry. Mori might have sniffled but you had probably imagined it. Kaoru was hiding his mouth behind his hand and Hikaru was staring fixedly at his shoes. Haruhi’s smile trembled and for once, Kyoya actually seemed to admire what you were saying.

And Tamaki’s expression was so full of feeling it tugged on your heart.

“Thank you for everything, guys,” you said, smiling wide. “You and this ridiculous club.” 

And then, before any tears started flowing, you clapped your hands together. “Alright, enough of the sappiness. Let’s get on with the hosting.”

You found Renge near the windows, fanning herself with a hilariously large fan. You remembered wanting to curse her name into the ground but now you felt a stilted affection for her. Like how you felt about a prickly tarantula, maybe. 

“Renge, can I hug you?”

Renge made a face. “Heavens, no. That would be unseemly for a society lady.” 

You scoffed and pulled Renge into a hug. She protested weakly but hugged you back.

“You know, if it weren’t for you, I never would have joined the Host Club.”

“I know. You should name your firstborn after me.”

“That is a no, but regardless, thank you for being manipulative and guilt tripping me.”

“You’re welcome!” Renge blinked. “Wait, what?”

You laughed. “I owe you one, Renge.”

“Why don’t you just fall in love with another devastating young man with beautiful hair? Then we could do this all over again.”

“I will never understand what goes on in that head of yours.”

“It’s part of my feminine mystique.”

“It’s part of something alright.”

You had to wait for the perfect moment, but at last, Hikaru propped his elbow on Kaoru’s shoulder like you knew he would and you pounced, wrestling the two of them into one of your volleyball tackles.

“Since when are you allowed to kill people on your last day?” Kaoru gasped.

“Manslaughter is not going to look good on your record,” Hikaru wheezed.

You tousled the twins’ hair, probably harder than strictly necessary. “I might actually miss you two during volleyball season. I won’t have anyone to harass my sanity anymore.”

“It was our pleasure,” Karou said with mock gravitas.

“It was our duty, actually,” Hikaru sniffed.

The twins twisted out of your grasp. You watched, amused, as they both flipped a cap onto their heads.

“We realize you never got to do this—” one of the twins said, 

“—so let’s play the Which One is Hikaru Game!” the other twin finished.

“Oh no,” you said flatly. “I can’t see which way you parted your hair. How will I ever know who is who?”

The twins each raised an eyebrow. You shook your head, smiling, then pointed to the left. “Well, I guess this one is Kaoru, and this one is Hikaru. Hikaru is going to tell me I’m wrong, and then Kaoru is going to tell me to try again.”

The twins looked at each other. 

“You can really tell, can’t you?” Kaoru said softly.

You gave a jaunty shrug. “Nope. Just a lucky guess.”

As soon as Haruhi’s guest left, you slipped into the seat across from her. Her face brightened as she reached for the pot of tea but you beat her to it.

“You’re always the one pouring tea. Let me do it for once.”

“So it’s your last day,” she said, accepting the cup and saucer you gave her. “How are you feeling?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be knighted, but honestly, I’m not too sad. I’ll still stop by to visit you guys. And despite everything, you’re still my favourite host, Haruhi.”

Haruhi smiled into her cup. “I’m flattered.”

“You shouldn’t be. There’s a reason the “natural” type is so popular.” You smirked. “I can barely find time to talk to you most days.”

“Actually listening to people goes a long way. Most people just want someone there so they can talk.”

“You’re a great listener,” you said quietly. “You actually think about what people say and you’re never judgemental. I could talk to you for hours.”

Haruhi looked at you, her eyes wide. You still thought she had beautiful eyes. They were a reflection of everything she didn’t say.

“I wanted to thank you for being there for me. You got me through a lot of this Keiji stuff--the pillar of reason. I hope the Host Club knows it would fall apart if it weren’t for you.”

Haruhi looked off to the side. “Don’t give me too much credit. Most days I’m not doing anything special.”

“But it’s always more than enough,” you said. You rose from your seat to squeeze her into a side hug. 

“Maybe I should buy one of your pencils from the club auction site so I can you’re really my favourite host.”

“Please don’t,” Haruhi said, pained. “No wonder my pencils keep going missing.”

“I saved you a pastry, Y/N-chan!”

You took the plate from Honey with a grin. “I’m going to miss this. They don’t feed me half as well on the volleyball team.”

“They don’t feed you at all on the volleyball team,” Mori said.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you sure you’re okay, big guy? I feel like I might have dislodged your brains when I fell on you at the gala. You’ve been acting extremely out of character.”

“He was just tired,” Honey insisted. “He’s all back to normal now, right, Taka-chan?”

Mori shrugged. You thought he might have been hiding a smile.

You bit into the flaky pastry and sighed. “I guess I’m supposed to thank the two of you for dragging into the Host Club, huh?”

“I told you everything would work out!” Honey said brightly. “You kept doubting me! If you had given up, you would still be hung up about Keiji!”

“You don’t know that. I probably would have been fine. I definitely wouldn’t have suffered so much public embarrassment.”

“Embarrassment never killed anyone,” Mori said. You punched his arm. 

“Don’t act like half of that embarrassment wasn’t your fault. Anyway, I’m not too wrung up about the two of you. We’re literally going to see each other during Math tomorrow.”

“But you won’t be a host anymore,” Honey said, pouting. “You’re always so busy during volleyball season. We barely ever get to see you.”

“I’ll try my best to visit. Maybe you guys could even come to one of my games?  I bet my coach would like the turnout.”

“That would be fun! I’m a great cheerleader!”

You ruffled Honey’s hair. “For sure.”

Honey ran off then to refill his plate. You were about to get up too when Mori brushed your arm.

“About what happened.”

You tried to hide your spike of nervousness. “Yeah?”

Mori’s gaze was steady. “I didn’t … I didn’t dislike what happened.”

You stared at Mori. He stared at you back and for beat, the two of you were the only ones in the room.

You pulled on a rakish grin. “I hope you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”

Mori’s smile was faintly amused. “What am I saying?”

“I don’t really know. But maybe I should find out.”

“Maybe you should.”

You didn’t get a chance to talk to Tamaki or Kyoya until the day was over and guests began clearing out of the music room. As it were, the three of you waved the final guests goodbye, and once Kyoya greeted the crew responsible for dismantling everything, you all  left the academy.

“So what’s my status now?” you asked, Tamaki and Kyoya walking on either side of you. “Honorary Host? Esteemed Guest? You did say I would always have a place in the Host Club.”

“Of course! We can’t have our Tragic Host abandoning us completely!” Tamaki cried.

Kyoya nodded. “You’ll be able to enjoy a twenty-percent discount for each visit.” 

“You’re kidding. I still have to pay? I’m practically one of you guys!”

“If you aren’t a host, you’re a guest. Guests are required to pay.”

“Tamaki!” you whined.

Tamaki squinted at Kyoya. “Well, I suppose if you were to use the Black Magic Room to get into the music room, no one could stop you.”

“This is too much work. I’ll just never visit then.”

“Suit yourself,” Kyoya said coldly. Tamaki made a wounded noise.

Something nudged the back of your mind. You thought it was a silly thing to ask, especially now that everything had wrapped up, but you would always wonder if you didn’t ask.

“I have a question for the two of you.”

“Will horrors never cease?” Kyoya deadpanned.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I mean, maybe I’m thinking about this wrong, but with your heartbreak treatment—did any of that have to do with—did you want to make me fall in love with you?”

Tamaki and Kyoya exchanged glances. A blush began creeping up Tamaki’s face.

“Y/N, do you know what the true purpose of the Host Club is?” Kyoya asked carefully.

“Not in any polite terms, no,” you replied, to which Kyoya rolled his eyes.

“When I first created the club, I only had one goal,” Tamaki said, his voice rueful. He smiled bashfully when you looked at him. “I just wanted to make people happy. That was all.”

It was a ridiculously simple answer that shouldn’t have justified anything. But somehow, it did.

The three of you reached the front entrance. You raised a hand to block the afternoon sunlight.

“If nothing else, I’ll at least give you credit where it’s due. You really did manage to heal my broken heart.”

Tamaki gaped at you. Kyoya’s eyes gleamed triumphantly.

“I’m going to need you to say that again,” he said. “For the record.”

“Is this going into your obscenely large handbook?”

“Of course. I’ve been writing out a protocol concerning broken hearts. You’re going to be the validating evidence.”

“But you didn’t know what you were doing. Mori said I was your first case.”

Kyoya wasn’t smug. He looked pleased. Maybe even happy.

“I had perfect confidence that we would be successful,” he said.

disce end.

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© cophene 2024

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