#this is what my mind does on my bus ride home

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐁𝐘𝐀𝐊 ✮ FLORIAN WIRTZ

summary. it’s kind of pathetic the way the two of you always come crawling back to each other.

warnings. emotional warfare. florian is down bad. light smut but heavy feelings. florian is lowkey pathetic in this. 18+

gabri speaks! unfortunately i am a florian girlie. anyways i’m back! heavily inspired by byak by alvaro diaz ft. rauw alejandro.

THE CROWD GROANS as florian hits the crossbar for the second time that night. the camera man makes sure to zoom in on him as his hands go up in frustration. florian stares at the goalkeeper in disbelief as he runs back into his position. another missed chance, another bad rating, another night of him stressing himself out. if there was one person in all of germany that night happy about his performance it was you.

your relationship with the player was controversial, what was once a promising relationship had turned sour, and quickly. the two of you had mutually decided that a committed relationship wasn’t in the cards for either of you. it had grown toxic to the point where you’d flirt with his teammates on purpose to provoke him which worked because you’d always end up in his bed and never in a foreign room. in fact you couldn’t quite remember when was the last time you had hooked up with anyone else.

meanwhile the brunette found himself staring at his phone on the ride home. chatter and music filled the team bus yet only one thing clouded his mind, did you watch the match? he was hoping a teasing message of yours would already be in his notifications, and when he saw there’s wasn’t one he sighed. as his teammates argued over their errors and mistakes he couldn’t help opening the messages between the two of you. the countless deleted messages and hidden pictures as well as the timed ones made him remember the many nights the two of you would spend on the phone.

the sound of your voice filled his head and when he saw you were online he immediately turned off his phone. was it possible you had finally gotten tired of your messed up relationship?

“bro, are you okay?” kai asked seeing the state his teammate was in. florian’s leg was bouncing and his demeanor had changed dramatically.

“i’m fine, thanks.” he offered him a curt smile before staring out the window again.

he wasn’t fine, he was far from fine, in fact he felt worse than he did after missing the goal. he’s not sure why but as soon as the team arrives back to the hotel he’s on his way to your flat. he makes a quick stop at the chinese place the two of you like beforehand making sure he doesn’t show up empty handed. it was already pathetic enough that he was showing up past midnight he could at least make up an excuse with the food.

he hopes the black hoodie he wore is enough to hide his identity from bystanders. although with all the pacing he does outside your hallway he hopes no one thinks he’s a robber. as he adjusts his hoodie he can’t help but think, why am i so nervous? after all it’s not the first time he knocks on your door at these hours.

“do you hate me?” is the first thing you hear as you open the door.

you study his frame and notice his disheveled hair and the training kit from the national team. you’ve never seen him so disorganized and upset — if that was the right word to use — you were amused. as his face grows concerned with your lack of answer you notice the takeout he has in his hands. the poor guy was either desperate or he had lost his mind. both of which could be true.

“what the fuck florian?” you look at him weird as you question him.

“you didn’t text me today.” he says as if that simple sentence answered your question.

“so what? i don’t text you every other week and you never show up at my apartment with food. what’s going on?” you’re even more confused than before.

“you always text me after a game.” he tries to explain like it’s the most logical thing ever.

you can’t help the half scoff and half laugh you let out. he couldn’t be serious right now. was he seriously at your apartment past midnight because he was freaking out over a message?

“okay seriously you need to get a girlfriend you’re starting to creep me out.” you joke.

“you say that while you’re wearing my jersey.” he l doesn’t even need you to turn around to know that you were wearing the leverkusen jersey he had gifted you months ago.

there’s a moment of silence between the two of you it’s entrancing. you stare at him and realize he’d made his way over to you immediately after the game. all because he was waiting for your message. meanwhile there’s something about you wearing his jersey for casually that makes you all more enchanting to him. there’s a mutual look between the two of you and in the blink of an eye his hands are on your waist, yours on his jaw, and his lips are on yours.

it’s poetic really the way he closes your door as he pushes you into your apartment and drops the takeout on your coffee table in the process. your hands already digging into his hair and his hold you tight as he carried you into your room. it’s all muscle memory. the darkness of your bedroom adds to the feeling of having him so close to you again.

“i think i-” he pauses not wanting to be so vulnerable in this predicament but you know what he wants to say. you freeze.

“florian you know i can’t. it didn’t work out the first time. i can’t do it again.” you grab his jaw making sure the two of you are making eye contact. his brown eyes captivate yours.

“i can’t either but i can’t live without you.” he whispers the end. “it will always be you.”

you drag his hand towards the waistband of your shorts. it would always be him too. the only person that consumed your every thoughts and the only person you were worried about getting hurt was him. always. you look into his eyes as he drags his fingers to your core and sigh as he begins to tease you. he’s also the only man you fantasize about.

“promise?” you ask him.

the moonlight barely allows you to see him fully but you catch the smirk on his face. the same one that had captivated you years ago at the bar. his fingers are so close to your needy hole. you can’t help but audibly gasp as he inserts them inside you causing an illicit groan from him. your nails dig into his shoulders as he starts fucking you with his digits. meanwhile he kisses you from your collarbone to your neck.

“i promise.” he whispers against your ear.

he pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly helping you reach your high. it was only fair you were treated right. it was small details like this that had you wondering why the two of you couldn’t just commit to each other. you’re distracted as he leaves marks on your neck and his fingers curve inside you. you can’t help the loud moans that leave your mouth as you reach your high. your hands dig into the sheets as you come around his fingers.

he continues kissing you as he begins to take his hoodie off. you’re quick to stop him before he begins undressing himself.

“do i need to remind you that you didn’t score today? you’re not getting any tonight.” you adjust your shorts.

“so you did watch the game then.” he wraps his arms around you pulling you closer to him.

“i always do.” you whisper as you cuddle into him.

that’s how you spend the rest of the night, snuggled into his body as it rains outside. it’s quite an intimate moment shared between the two of you. you’re not quite sure if you should be worried or content with the turn your relationship with florian took. you decide it’s rather late and with the way he holds you you don’t think much more. after all he promised and while you knew florian was many things he was not an oath breaker.

[moonstruckme]

hi mae, if its not too much trouble could you do something with james and r where r has to deal with likr a creep on a train or smth. ive just had a real weird experience rn and its just.hm

Ugh I'm so sorry babe, I wish we each had a James with us all the time

cw: man being creepy (no sa or harassment, just gross behavior)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 934 words

You clock the danger long before your boyfriend does, but you suppose it’s a lot more drilled into one of you than the other. 

The man gets on a few stops after you do, and his gaze seems aimless until it lands on you. It’s not a busy time; the bus is nearly empty, but of course he goes and stands next to you as if there are no open seats. You should have known better than to sit by the aisle. 

James’ chatter fades into the background as your mind starts to whirl with possibilities. What if this man grabs you? What if he tries to keep you from getting off at your stop? What if he waits until you get off, and then follows you home? 

“Hey.” James is looking at you quizzically. He reaches for your opposite arm, scrubbing up and down lightly. “You okay?” 

You use the touch as an excuse to lean into his side, murmuring so the man can’t hear you. “If that guy’s still here when it’s my stop, will you get off with me? Or I could ride to yours, if that’s better.” 

James looks past you, noticing the man for the first time, and you see clarity dawn on his expression as he does the same math you had. You can feel the man’s stare burning into the side of your head; he’s not even being subtle about it. James pulls you closer to his side. 

“Hey, mate,” he says, tension underlying his jovial tone. “Do you wanna take a seat? There are plenty open.” 

You chance a look over, and the man’s eyes lock with yours like it’s the opportunity he’s been waiting for. You feel James’ arm tense. 

“You have pretty hair,” the man says. 

You smile tersely. Polite, carefully unfriendly. “Thanks.” 

That seems to satisfy him; the man does take a seat. The one directly behind you. Anxiety prickles over your skin at not being able to see him. 

You at least feel better now that James is aware, too. He keeps his face turned to you, one eye on the seat behind you, as he picks up your conversation about the film you’ve just seen. Remus and Sirius were the ones who wanted to see it in the cinema; they thought it was artistic and meaningful, whereas you and James are in agreement it was dull and pretentious. Odd, aimless dialogue, experimental camera angles, hardly any plot. James thinks if you can get Sirius away from Remus he’ll agree. Competitive thing that he is, he’s hatching a plan to do so when the man leans forward and pushes his nose into your hair. 

The sound of his inhale sends goosebumps racing down every inch of your skin. You go rigid, attempting subtly to lean forward while all the nerves in your body scream at you to run. 

“Hey, what the fuck?” James doesn’t take care to lower his voice. 

As though you’d been waiting for permission, you jump away, getting as far out of reach as possible before turning around. James’ arm has barred across the back of your seat, his hand gripping the pole on the opposite side and the muscles in his forearm strained with tension. 

“What makes you think you can do that to someone?” he asks, equal parts incredulous and irate. 

People in the bus have turned to look. The bus slows as you approach the next stop. 

“Let’s get off,” you tell James. 

“What?” He turns to you for a second before seeming to remember he should be keeping an eye on the man. Who has been silent, but for what he said to you. He looks entertained by James’ outburst, which almost scares you worse than anything that’s happened thus far. You know James is very fit, but you don’t want to get him in a fight. “Why should we get off? We haven’t done anything wrong!” 

The doors open, and people start to file off. “James,” you say, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and giving a slight tug. “Please.” 

He hesitates a second longer, looking somewhere between bewildered and outraged, before he says, “Fine, okay,” and grabs your bag. You tug him into the aisle, careful to keep both of you out of reach of the man. Once you’re off the bus, you start walking quickly, pulling James along and casting glances over your shoulder to be sure the man from the bus doesn’t follow. It’s only when the bus pulls away and he hasn’t gotten off that you stop. 

“Ugh.” You heave a tremendous sigh, hugging James around the middle and dropping your forehead to his chest. “Sorry.” 

“That was fucking insane,” he says, cupping the back of your head protectively. “Does that happen to you often?” 

You let out a little laugh. “That specifically? No. But I know better than to talk to guys like that.” 

“Sorry.” James kisses your hairline. Lets his lips rest there. “I thought it was going to help.” 

“It’s not your fault, he was going to be weird either way. I’m really glad you were there.” 

He squeezes you tighter. It helps you release the tension from your shoulders, giving in to him. “That was fucking disgusting,” he says. “I’m sorry I’m ever not there.” 

You shudder. “Is it weird that I feel like I need to shower?” 

“Nope. But do it at mine. I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about that guy finding your place for the next several days.” 

“How would he do that, James?” 

“Dunno. But just to be safe.”

[togrowoldinv]

The Teacher

Milf!WandaNat x Female Reader

When Wanda’s boys need tutoring, you offer to help with the small stipulation that you do at her house. While at the home, you meet Natasha. What happens one day when Wanda forgets to cancel tutoring and you happen upon her and Nat in a compromising situation?

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (R, W, N receiving), strap on sex, dominant Natasha

Note: I could not stop thinking about these two. Enjoy!

WandaNat Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You’re anxiously waiting in your classroom for the mother of two students to arrive for a conference. You hated to call her, knowing that she is very busy, but her sons have been falling behind in class. And you never want that to be prolonged by your own nerves.

So, you wait for Wanda Maximoff to arrive for your scheduled after-school meeting. The door opens with five minutes to spare. In walks in a woman with an air of confidence you haven’t quite seen before. Her blonde hair rests over the lapels of a red suit. She looks like a million bucks in every sense of the phrase.

“Hello, I’m Ms. Y/l/n, you must be Ms. Maximoff,” you greet her.

“That’s me,” she says. “Please call me Wanda.”

“Nice to meet you, Wanda,” you say. “Thank you for taking time out of your day to meet with me.”

You gesture for her to sit in the chair across from your desk. She does so and looks back to you with waiting eyes.

“I am concerned about Billy and Tommy falling behind in class,” you explain. “They’ve taken a dive the last few weeks in grades and participation.”

“Well, Billy has always been shy,” Wanda supplies. “And Tommy just can’t sit still.”

“Yes, that’s true. But they’ve been my best students all year until recently. I just wanted to be in touch with you to maybe find the cause and take steps to correct this misdirection,” you say.

You hate this part of your job. Every parent thinks their child hangs the moon. They don’t want to hear they’re struggling. You prepare yourself to face rejection, but Wanda just thinks for a moment.

“How can I get them back on track?” She asks.

“I can tutor them before and/or after school,” you say. “If their in-class participation improves that will also help with their grades.”

“Okay,” Wanda says. Her green eyes look you over. “I have a hard time getting them to school early because they ride a bus. And getting here right after school is very difficult.”

“Right,” you say. “I understand.”

“Maybe you could tutor them at my house?” Wanda asks.

“Oh, I’m not sure if that’s really allowed,” you say.

“Please?” Wanda asks. You don’t think you have the strength to say no to her soft expression. She is almost pouting. You feel an attraction to her in your gut. She leans forward. “I will pay you anything.”

“Oh, I definitely can’t take payment, Wanda,” you say. She pouts completely now. “But I can tutor them at your house.”

“Thank you!” Wanda practically cheers. “I appreciate it. Really.”

“Of course, Wanda. I can start as soon as possible.”

With that, Wanda leaves your classroom with the exchange of phone numbers and the shake of your hand. It’s probably a bad idea, but you keep the success of your students in mind as you push away any worries about the tutoring.

The next day you drive to Wanda’s house after school. The boys let you in on instruction from their mother to only let you inside and not strangers. You set up at the table and teach the boys some math. To your surprise, they don’t put up much of a fight about the work.

When you’re almost done for the day, the door of the house opens. The boys run to the door to hug the mysterious woman who enters. She wears a leather jacket and black pants. God, she is attractive. Her red hair is tied back in a braid.

“Oh, hello,” she says once she sees you. “You must be the teacher Wanda was telling me about. I’m Natasha.”

“Hi, yes, I’m y/n,” you say as you shake her hand. Her green eyes sparkle like Wandas.

“Nice to meet you,” Natasha says. You think you see her look you over briefly before the kids grab her attention again.

“We’re done for the day, so I’ll head out,” you say, gathering your things.

“Okay. Thanks for helping them. I hope to see you again soon, y/n,” Natasha says.

She disappears into the kitchen, and you wonder about the nature of her relationship with Wanda.

The next few weeks of tutoring go smoothly. You see Natasha a couple of times. She doesn’t say much but she always thanks you for your time.

Today, when you knock on the door and wait for an answer there is a long delay. The boys usually open the door immediately. Five minutes go by, and you decide to knock a couple of more times.

Finally, Wanda comes to the door. She is never here when it’s time for tutoring. And especially not in a robe with messy hair.

“Oh shit,” Wanda remarks at the sight of you. “I forgot to cancel today. The boys are visiting family.”

“That’s alright,” you say. “I’ll just be on my way.”

At the time you go to turn around, Natasha emerges from the other room. She has only a t-shirt and underwear on. You try to look away.

“Who is it, detka?” Nat asks.

“Ms. Y/l/n,” Wanda says. She doesn’t look away from you. “I forgot to cancel tutoring.”

“Oh,” Natasha says. “Don’t be rude, Wanda.” She walks to the door and looks at you. “Come on in, y/n.”

You don’t even argue with that despite the very little clothes either of them are wearing. You enter and Nat pours you a drink.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” you say when she hands it to you.

“No worries,” Nat supplies. “Just an afternoon meeting. Right Wands?”

“Right,” Wanda agrees. She seems a little uneasy, but when Nat places a hand on her thigh, you see her nerves calm. “A meeting.”

It’s quiet for a few moments. You try hard not to notice how far up Natasha’s hand has moved or the way Wanda’s thighs look so delicious. Natasha’s too. Nat catches you looking.

“You know we could use help with our meeting,” Natasha says.

“Nat,” Wanda warns.

“Look, sweetheart, she is looking at us,” Natasha says. “I think she wants to join.”

Wanda looks directly into your eyes. Her gaze is hypnotizing. Natasha’s hand dips completely between her thighs. Wanda moans quietly.

“Do you want to join?” Wanda asks. It’s the first time you’ve noticed she has a bit of an accent.

“I- um- yes?” You phrase it like a question.

“I need you to be sure,” Wanda says.

She reaches her hand out towards you. You get the memo. You cross the room and Wanda takes your hand. She pulls you onto her lap. Nat’s hand remains between her thighs and as a result brushes against you too.

Wanda brushes your hair off of your face. She keeps her hand on your face. The long digits hold your face tight. She leans in and kisses your lips softly. The feeling makes your head dizzy.

“So good,” Wanda whispers when she pulls away. “Natasha, you need to taste her.”

Natasha pulls you by the back of your neck over to meet her lips. She moans into the kiss as she deepens it. Her tongue invades your mouth. The kiss is rough, but you want so much more. Your hips stutter over Wanda’s lap.

“Hm, needy girl,” Natasha says once she pulls away. She lifts your shirt over your head and Wanda immediately starts sucking at your breasts.

You kiss Nat as Wanda stimulates your nipples. She leaves no inch of your chest untouched. She unbuttons your pants and you stand up to let her pull them down your legs. Wanda instructs you to stay standing. Nat stands up behind you and kneels while Wanda kneels in front of you.

“Your pussy is so wet,” Wanda says. “Hm, I just want to taste it.”

“Taste it, Wanda. Make her feel good,” Natasha says. “And I’ll do the same.”

The two women dive into you. Natasha’s hands help spread you as Wanda eats you out. Natasha joins her and you feel both of their mouths hard at work. You would fall over if it wasn’t for Natasha’s strong arms holding you up.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you mumble way too quickly. But they don’t care. They keep up their ministrations until you’re shaking with pleasure.

“So fucking good,” Natasha says.

“Mhm,” Wanda agrees.

The two women pull away from you and share a filthy kiss. In the process, Wanda sits back on the couch and takes her robe off. Her entire body is exposed to you. You’re sure your mouth is watering.

Natasha pushes you gently to kneel between Wanda’s legs. You waste no time kissing her soft thighs. Exactly as delicious as you thought she would be.

“Such a good girl,” Natasha says. She takes her own underwear off and reveals she’s wearing a strap. You’re not sure how you hadn’t seen it before.

Nat gets it wet before she gets on her knees. She angles the fake cock perfectly to enter you from behind. You’re already wet, so it goes in easy. Nat moves her hips at an excruciating pace as Wanda pushes on your head to keep you between her legs.

You lick stripes over her folds and take her clit in your mouth. Wanda watches as Natasha pounds into you.

“Fuck that’s so hot,” she says.

“She takes me so well, Wanda,” Natasha says.

The words drive you crazy. You pick up your pace on Wanda and she comes in no time. You clean her up as Natasha brings you to another orgasm.

You and Wanda turn your focus to Natasha. You take the cock in your mouth and Wanda’s juices coat it. Natasha groans at the feeling. Wanda maneuvers herself to lick Natasha’s pussy that’s not covered by the strap.

The two of you get Natasha off quickly. And you all rest on the couch. Natasha and Wanda hold you between them as your limbs tangle together.

“I’m really glad I forgot to cancel tutoring today,” Wanda says.

“Me too,” Natasha adds.

“Me three,” you say and share a laugh with the women.

You hope Wanda invites you over more often now. Especially if Natasha is going to be there.

[xuchiya]

streets [c.san]

₊˚.༄ || filth valentines m.list || hongjoong || seonghwa || yunho || yeosang || san || mingi || wooyoung || jongho || ₊˚.༄

₊˚.༄ We real life made for each other And it's hard to keep my cool ₊˚.༄

"it's getting late, do you have someone to pick you up?" your head turn towards san, still in his uniform. his face mask were pulled down just below his bottom lip, emphasizing his cheeks; it made you want to squish his cheeks from being so innocent.

san was one of your fellow nurses. The crisp navy-blue scrubs fit him perfectly, the name tag reading "San Choi, RN" gleaming under the fluorescent lights. you cleared your throat; your heart was beating too loud for you that it hurts to taint this uncorrupted soul. you have hint after hint of crush on this man, this huge ass man that his face does not match his enormous body that you totally found yourself completely hidden.

proved when you stood behind him once and when you say, disappeared.

abracadabra, bitch not even a strand of hair can be seen.

"ah well i actually have somewhere to be ... what about you?" san looks at his watch, sighing, brushing his hair off his eyes, "my friend said he'll pick me up but he had an emergency call from his dad's company so now I have to wait for a bus..."

you frown looking at your watch too, its 10pm. Usually buses don't take this route anymore, "buses aren't available in this hour, san."

his heart fell on his stomach, double checking his watch, "damn it!" your eyes widen at his sudden burst of profanity. his eyes widen too and apologizing to you, "i'm sorry didn't mean to."

your lips curled up in a teasing smile, "your patient would not like it if she heard that one." San shakes his head laughing lightly. the small silence engulfs you both before you had an idea which will be a torture for you.

probably a torture for him too.

San was already an intern at a prestigious hospital near his family's home; owned by his grandfather though he is expecting him that he will continue his service even after his internship.

but when San came by a hospital that one of his friends were admitted after being confined. He found himself stuck on the reception area as his eyes were glued to your figure, up on hospital trolley, shouting dose of pharmaceutical. Your determine look and perseverance on your career what intrigued him to know you more.

so he left his family hospital.

San is pediatrician and so do you, the amount of love he gives on these children what also intrigued you in getting to know the man that suddenly left the hospital that you were trying to apply.

"hey i can give you a ride?" you mention, his ear perk up and reddens. his heart thumps inside his chest all of a sudden, "i-i .."

upon realizing what you said, your eyes once again widen and stutter out excuses, "oh my gosh! i - this is embarrassing, God take me!" you groan, covering your face.

for a while San chuckles at your reaction, composing himself, "I know you don't mean any harm but if you're going to drop me off then i hope i'm not delaying any of your plans."

When San agrees about you giving him a ride, he meant to be able to relax on the passenger seat.

He stares at the glaring matte black with gold flames on the Kawasaki Ninja 400R. That is one of the motorbikes he wishes to own and drive but because of his independence, San is still saving up.

"Holy .." You look at San as you place the glove tightly on your hand, "hmm?" Clueless on his reaction, you swing your leg over the bike, reviving the engine on and tune in the smoky sound of the engine of your bike.

San stares in awe as you hand him (set of embarrassment hue on your cheeks) a customized helmet. It has kitty ear with soft peach color as parallel of the inside of the ear.

"this is so cute." when he puts in the helmet, it dawned on him. You, arch back, hunch forward and him behind you, holding on tightly. His ears were once again red, frozen in place; his mind racing the same speed as your bike with filthy thoughts.

Like how could he not? Your ass is probably close to his (now) stiffening cock in his scrubs when he jumps in. the way it would keep brushing on his cock would probably have him cumming there.

"San? you okay?" You haven't feel the pressure or the weight on your back, so you turn your attention on San; standing with an incredible thickening boner in his scrubs, if it weren't for the eye shield of your helmet, he would seen you checking him out.

Or worse, staring at his firm boner.

San snap out of his thoughts and hurriedly swing his legs over the other side of the bike, after settling down on the leather seat. "You okay? Do you need-"

"Let's just go." San spoke clearing his throat and immediatly feels bad for brushing your concerns off, you understood why.

Without speaking much, you note that San would not hold on to you because of his hard situation so you did the initiative to grab his hands, in which he was taken back, and wrap them around your waist; patting his hand, "Mind you that it's night and I'll be taking advantage of the road."

You look over at San, "don't worry, I'll slow down if its too much." So without delaying much of your guys time, you kick off the stand and off both of you on the streets. San calling whatever can answer them make this ride, a comfortable one.

to say the least, no one grant his calls.

"u-Ugh f-ufuck chakaman!" San gasp, holding on to the mop of hair on the level of his hips while gripping his scrub up on his chest in his other hand—exposing his toned stomach, his scrub pants pooled on the floor. Your tousled hair, lips wrapped around his aching cock left him gripping the leather seat of your motorbike as you continued swirling your tongue on his red tip. San cried, bucking his hips when you took all of him; fitting him in your mouth up til’ his tip hitting the back of your throat.

 You hum to accumulate more of his climax, which in your satisfaction made San whimper thrusting his hips in your mouth, “f-fuck …” Shamelessly, he started fucking your throat as his climax were nearing and sooner, his cum spurted on your tongue and down your throat. You pull away from him, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to let him see that you have collected some of his cum before swallowing them.

  You gave him a smile before licking your salty lips, standing up proceeding to remove your leather pants; letting them rest on your knees along with your undies. You turn your head over to look at him with a smirk on your lips, bending moderately for him to see your puckered glistening hole with a small help of one of your hands to spread your cheek.

 “I know you want to get your dick wet, come on baby.” San’s eye twitch the moment you provoke him and have to look around the cleared parking spot you parked on and had him spitting his fingers and run them up and down your puffy cunt before grabbing his semi-hard dick and tap his tip on your hole; wiggling your asscheeks for him to provoke him more which he took the cue and slam his hips on yours.

You were quite taken back, his hips pace was something you were wondering if he has his dick wet a few times or he has this speed that you were looking for; nevertheless it had you moaning his name as his tip kept nudging. You rolled your hips each time he pulls away, leaving the tip then slamming back inside, “Fu-fuck Sannie— that’s so good! Right there!”

San’s hand crept down towards your clit, circling them rapidly and increasing the pleasure and the coil on your stomach, “You like that? You dirty dirty girl.” San stops circling his fingers around your clit and let you bend over your motorcycle as his hips snaps swiftly, placing the hem of his scrubs between his teeth as his hands knead the flesh of your hips then to your plump ass, spreading them as he watch his dick disappear inside your hole; a ring of your slick making him moan in his scrubs.

“Shit shit!” You cursed, lewd noises echoing the silent parking lot increase the arousal on your stomach, the fire of desire as San rapidly ram himself until you feel your thighs shake, “I’m g-gonna cum!” San drops the cloth and bent over to your ear, “Then make yourself a mess on my dick baby.” 

That it all took before you had a long string of ‘fuck’ leaving your lips as your orgasm washed over you, eyes fluterring close hips moving to chase your high. You felt San’s hand clasp around your hips and his broken moans reach your ears, “I don’t care if you’re on the pill or not but me? Get you knocked up? It’s been a fantasy of mine.”

His seeds spurted your walls, bucking a deeper part of your pussy. His hips halted as he let every drop of his cum stay inside you before pulling out, a whine left your lips but soon replaced by a yelp as San smacked your ass in his palm before placing your panties and your pants back on, “It’s cold and besides …” You turn around, he brushes hair away from your sweaty face, “I don’t want you wasting what we work hard on.”

Your cheeks flared, “You must have thought of this ‘fantasy of yours for a while now eh?” San shakes his head, a smile on his lips; securing his boxers and scrub pants back on before leaning on your motorcycle, shrugging, “Maybe but I should have taken you on a date first before I knock you up.”

You whine, smacking his arms, “Stop using that term.” San’s head threw back as he laughed at your reddened face, you groaned turning your head to the side. He stops laughing little by little before sighing, grabbing your hand; pulling you between his legs, “But it’s true. I had it all planned and there’s a step by step to it … but it looks like I skipped a step.”

You look at him, pouty lips, “a lot you mean.” He chuckles heartedly, grabbing your cheeks in his large palms, caressing them, “Okay a lot but it doesn’t mean I ain’t gonna take care of you. Let me praise you, love you, worship you and let me do those things because it is my duty to make you feel special and I want you to feel you are the only girl in this damn world. You’re my girl.”

You were left speechless and San saw in your eyes the appreciation, pulling you in his arms, “I’ll kiss you after our fourth date.”

“Why not now? You already got me knocked up and we are not even on our first date.” He chuckles and this is one of the reasons why he likes you; nonchalant or straightforward. He nodded, “Okay.” He pulls you in near his warmth, his lips landing gently on yours. He took the lead to make you feel special, make you feel the most important person to him.

[wickedscribbles]

whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) ch. 3

Masterlist

Ch. 1, Ch. 2

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Logan Howlett/Wolverine

Rating: Explicit

Tags: flirting, anxiety, insecurity, drunk background characters, canon-typical violence, communication issues, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff

Word Count: 4.4K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.

In theory, it's been a good day.

At the very least, it’s a lot less terrifying than Logan had built it up in his mind to be. Wade never really let him in on what his plans were, so he’s just along for the ride as they travel across the sprawl of the city. Interestingly, he notices that Wade keeps their hands linked as they wait for the next bus – not an unpleasant experience by any means, but something they’ve never really done before. Though each of them often remains close enough to crawl inside the other when within the privacy of the apartment, PDA isn’t something they’ve ever really done.

For Logan, general proximity has always been enough. Knowing where Wade is, having his heartbeat and scent to go off of. An occasional brush of fingers isn’t unusual, a playful hip knock. Being more visible as a couple out in the public eye is new, and Logan wonders if it has anything to do with Wade’s insistence on going out looking…well. The way that he currently does.

His gut is telling him yes.

But Wade’s humming contentedly to himself as they’re squished into a seat, shoulder to shoulder. His mind can’t help repeating back to him how much going out like this seems to mean to Wade, and Wade has somehow come to mean a hell of a lot to him. So he keeps his mouth shut and explores the hand-in-hand situation, rubbing his thumb in small circles over the skin of Wade’s palm. Turns out, the man’s got a whole itinerary for the day. Which makes sense, considering it’s Wade. Logan can’t imagine him taking them out for lunch and then going right back to the apartment after all the fuss he’s already kicked up.

“So,” Wade starts, in a tone that Logan’s grown fond of. “I was thinking we’d start with lunch – I don’t know about you, but I worked up an appetite from this morning –”

Logan promptly elbows him in the ribs.

“Wade –”

There’s a pint sized kid in the aisle across, staring at them with curious blue eyes. Wade turns to see what he’s looking at, then shrugs.

“Okay, slow down, Mr. Pervert. You think I’m handing out details of my personal life for free? And to minors, no less? If they want that sort of information they can lie about their age, like the rest of us did when the internet was the wild west of all things freaky.”

He looks over at something Logan can’t see. “And like some of them still are. Don’t think I don’t fucking see you.”

“See what?”

“Nothing, kitty cat. Anyway,” Wade continues, excited.

Logan listens patiently as he’s given every last detail of what they’re going to do and where they’re going to go. Does it sound like a lot of interaction with the general populace he wouldn’t normally seek out? Yeah. But does it also seem like Wade put a ton of effort into making sure it’d be a combination of things they’d both enjoy? Also yes.

“Sounds nice,” Logan tells him when he’s through explaining, and Wade gives him a tentative smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He puts an arm around Wade’s shoulders, and it doesn’t take heightened senses to catch the obvious delight emanating from him at the new contact.

So they meander through the massive sprawl of the city, venturing to places Logan’s never had a reason to go. If he’s being honest with himself, his circles are pitifully small. He likes to stay within certain neighborhoods if he can help it, places he already knows, close to home. The only time he really strayed from that trend was when he was trying to figure out what home was. Once he has a routine, he likes to keep to it.

Wade tends to veer toward the opposite. He likes a little spontaneity – hell, impulse may as well be his middle name. Logan’s not surprised when they go off path from one part of the day to something unexpected that catches Wade’s attention. He’s known him long enough to just accept that that’ll happen sometimes, doesn’t mind it.

It’s actually nice to be somewhere he’s not used to. Logan didn’t realize that he’d been growing a little restless himself until given the opportunity to see something outside of the daily to and fro, as comforting as that had become. The cheerful spring weather holds as Wade takes him to walk through some of the biggest trees Logan’s ever seen in his life, and later still as they weave their way through a public market.

They’ve been walking all day by the time Wade points them in the direction of their final destination, but Logan doesn’t feel (that) overwhelmed or at all bored. It’s…it’s nice. Seeing more of the city was probably good for him.

Dusk brushes across the sky, tentative. They walk together down the sidewalk, sometimes dodging to the side for a passing crowd. There’s more going on here in terms of entertainment than where they’re living – probably why he’s never been out this way.

Logan can’t help but take an occasional glance at Wade. The makeup’s become smudged throughout the day, and it’s a relief to see the actual Wade beginning to poke through a bit.

“I’m still waiting for it,” Wade says, looking at Logan wryly.

That makes him nervous. “Waiting for what?”

“Waiting for you to say, ‘huh, jeez, Wade, guess living here doesn’t suck the absolute balls that I always say it does.’”

He rolls his eyes. “Those the exact words you think would come out of my mouth?”

Wade nods, his expression solemn. “Verbatim. You’ve picked up some very unbecoming slang from hanging around Al so much, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“More like from hanging around you.”

“See, this is what I’m talking about!” Wade brings them to a stop. “The Logan that I dragged home would have just growled all sexy for the camera and stabbed me somewhere. He didn't banter like this.”

“Sooo…you’re saying you’re a bad influence.” He smirks.

They’re right outside the bar Wade wanted to poke his head into – some little hole in the wall joint Ellie, Laura, and Yukio won’t stop talking up called The Spork. Even from outside, Logan can hear and feel the pulse of the music. He can already tell that it’s going to be zero percent like the bars he’s frequented in the past. That’s probably for the best.

“Well, you did take off your chastity ring for me, didn’t you, sweetheart?” His voice dips lower on sweetheart, eyes roaming Logan’s chest through the strain of his shirt.

Fuck, he’s seriously starting to regret not taking Wade up on his offer this morning. They could have gone another round in under thirty minutes, right? (Wrong.) Logan can feel his cock stirring with interest, and though the street is growing dark now, it’s not something he wants to advertise.

“We goin’ in or not?” he mutters instead, fully aware that he’s lost the ability to quip back.

Sure, yeah, maybe he’s gotten better at keeping up, as Wade had said. But there’s no topping him when it comes to having a smart fucking mouth. He’s half-convinced Wade could just talk him to orgasm – and he wonders if it’s something they’ll ever try.

Wade chuckles a little at him.

“Don’t have to,” he says. “I know those dad shoes have seen more traction in the past eight hours than they’ve probably gotten in the last six months, so if you want to head home, we’ll head home.”

Again with this shit! Between him and Laura he’s never going to get away with any choice of footwear without getting roasted like he’s standing on the fucking sun.

“They’re literally just –”

“White New Balance, baby, I know.” Wade’s still grinning a little. “After you.”

He holds the door, and it only takes seconds for the two of them to become engulfed in sound. The bar is crowded with people he’d guess are probably around Laura’s age, a flurry of bright hair colors and crop tops, makeup on every kind of face. Queer couples whisper and laugh with each other, nursing drinks. Groups of friends pose for pictures. Lights dance from the ceiling, and the speakers are blasting a voice he’s become all too familiar with as Laura’s started turning the album on every time she’s in his car.

You know what they say – never waste a Friday night on a first date.

But there I was, in my heels with my hair straight, Logan finishes in his head, led by Wade to the bar by their connected hands.

“Be right back,” Wade says near his ear, careful not to yell. “You getting anything?”

Logan shakes his head. “Not if we’re just in and out.”

“Gotcha.”

He watches as Wade melts away into the crowd, side-stepping and inching through far more gracefully than Logan could until he slips into the restroom.

It’s easy to see why The Girls – as Ellie, Yukio, and Laura have come to be known in his mind – like it here. Inclusivity comes easier in cities, he knows that. But it’s still not perfect. Even harder when you have supernatural abilities you never asked for on top of it all.

Logan wonders if there are any more mutants in the crowd tonight.

Wade is taking a very long time. Shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, Logan glances back to where he’d last seen him. Is he being too paranoid? Should he just wait and give it another minute? Fuck. He wished his brain wouldn’t turn everything into a disaster. It occurs to him that the bar is getting louder and louder and he can smell so much sweat and cigarette smoke and weed in here.

No, actually, fuck it, he’s going. There’s no harm in just walking in and seeing if he’s alright.

Anxiety spiral! Jess says cheerfully in the back of his head. He ignores her.

With one hand placed on the bathroom door, he’s just in time to almost fully collide with the man he’s looking for.

“Shit,” they say at the same time, getting out of one another’s way.

“No, it’s fine,” Logan says first, squinting as a flash of light from the overhead rig shines in his face. “You okay, bub?”

Sometimes eating genuinely does make Wade sick. Logan doesn’t know if it’s the cancer or a side effect of how his regenerative ability works for him, but there are days when food just doesn’t do it for him. Usually they can both tell when that’s going to happen, though. They’ll hole up in the apartment, turn on some good movies, and just be together while Logan rubs Wade’s back all day. He’s happy to do it for him; he’s prepared to take him straight home and do it now.

But Wade doesn’t smell sick.

When Logan blinks the last of the light away, he’s left looking at Wade, who is definitely not looking at him. In fact, he’s staring at his shoes, looking like he wants to crawl through the floor.

His face is clean, all the carefully applied makeup scrubbed away.

Logan opens his mouth to say something like okay, I’m glad you took that off, I like your actual face, but Wade beats him to the punch.

“Sorry,” Wade says softly. “It was getting all smudged, and…sorry.”

Tears gather hot and burning in the back of Logan’s throat. Out of nowhere, he’s furious, fucking outraged that Wade could feel this way about himself when it’s so clearly untrue. It’s the kind of emotion that he’s not sure he can shove down or redirect this time. Part of him knows that if Wade sees the look on his face, he’s going to read it the wrong way. And he needs to get out of this bar, right now.

He's like a string pulled too tight. Even the pressure of a breath could make him snap.

“Can we please leave.”

That’s all he can make himself say, the words coming out all taut and emotionless. It makes him feel like shit, but that’s all he can manage to get out.

Wade nods, and Logan offers his hand once more. A meager consolation prize compared to what he actually wants to tell him. Logan hates how lacking his brain-to-mouth output is. Whatever he ends up saying always sounds so inarticulate. Right now he’s staring at Wade’s profile in the gentle pulsing of the colored lights, thinking a million things. All of them thrum within him harder than his own heartbeat.

I love you.

You’re beautiful.

I hate that you thought you had to change for me.

I would kill for you.

I would live for you.

Ten feet until they’re outside – he can do that. Then he can fix this.

Logan’s eyes are fixed on the door, on the cool air drafting in as it opens and closes, when he’s shoved hard from the right.

“My bad,” says a voice at once. “Shit, my bad man, my bad.”

Logan grits his teeth so tight he feels one of them crack. He swallows the loose piece.

“Don’t worry about it.” Shut the fuck up and let me leave.

The man who bumped into him is so obviously wasted that he might as well be wearing a flashing neon sign. He sways a little on his feet, supported only by the sweet-looking woman he keeps bumping back into, as if she's the only thing keeping him upright. Brawny and dressed like he's just walked straight from his fraternity house, he squints at Logan and Wade like he's seeing double. Shit, maybe triple, at this point.

“Jake, maybe you need to sit down,” the woman says to him softly.

Her face is flushed, more from embarrassment than alcohol. She's staring up at the guy, one small hand on his arm, but Jake is looking at the two of them like he's never seen gays over thirty before. Hell, like he’s never seen a queer in general, which is astounding, considering the bar he’s currently standing in.

Logan can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. It’s a rare occasion when someone who’s looked at him like that didn’t end up pissing him off, and he’s already one step away from wanting a good excuse to tear into someone. Anyone.

“C'mon, just sit down with us, I'll get you some water.”

The guy isn't interested. He's too busy looking at Wade now, and Logan can see the thought forming on his face before he dares to speak it.

“Jesus, man, you're kinda ugly, did you know that?”

To Wade's credit, he says fucking excuse me? at the same time Logan's fingers close around the asshole’s throat.

For someone who'd been wobbling around only seconds before, Jake tries to pry them off with surprising accuracy. It only makes him squeeze tighter, watching with brutal satisfaction as his face turns darker shades of red.

That’s better. This, he can understand. For Logan, actions are almost always easier than words, especially when tinted with violence. Especially if he’s needed it for weeks now.

In his periphery, he can tell that several things are going on. The college girl is touching his elbow, asking him to stop, something like I’m so sorry please let him go I know he’s had way too much. Wade is standing back a ways, hands in his pockets, grinning more broadly than Logan’s seen all day. A small crowd is starting to gather.

Their faces are only inches apart. He knows he should walk away, just take Wade and go home.

Somewhere behind him, Wade is having the time of his life calling this frat boy a piece of shit. Logan can’t even keep up with half of what’s coming out of his mouth, but he hears something about getting his haircut off of a middle schooler’s Tiktok FYP but having his dad’s mental health issues, and those both seem like pretty deep cuts. He doesn’t fail to mention, of course, that Logan’s about to turn him into the wet food that they make for cats.

“C’mon, fuckface,” Jake wheezes, trying and failing once more to loosen his grip. “You mad your boyfriend ain’t pretty or–”

That’s all it takes. Logan curls his free hand into a fist and punches the other man so hard his nose breaks with a tidy snap. Blood pours out of him like a busted faucet as he punches him twice, three times, and in seconds he’s howling and pleading for him to stop – he didn’t mean it, he promises he didn’t mean it.

If it were up to Logan, he’d stay there and beat him until the fucking punk was barely capable of stringing a sentence together, then make him say thank you for letting him live. As the situation stands, however, several people are definitely calling the police – and that’s not something Logan has the patience for.

“Hey, Testosterone Tommy, we gotta go,” Wade calls, reading his mind.

Without another word, Logan turns his back to the mess he’s made, and they make short work of disappearing into the street.

By the time they’ve ducked through enough alleys and carved a confusing enough path that they don’t think they’re in danger of being pursued, Wade lets out a breath.

“Thanks for uh, defending my honor back there, peanut.”

Logan shrugs, still tense from the weight of the conversation he knows they need to have.

“It was nothin’. He needed to shut the fuck up. I was happy to provide the service.” He looks over at Wade in the soft light of a street lamp, who chuckles a little at that. “And I knew you woulda hit him yourself if I didn’t get there first,” he adds.

Wade's answering silence makes him wonder if he would have just taken the insult and kept walking, or turned it into a joke even if it made him feel like shit.

When they arrive back at the apartment, Laura opens the door, a wriggling Puppins in her arms, and scrunches her nose at the sight of Logan.

“Thought it was a date, the hell?” she says. “You’ve got blood on you.”

“Don’t all your dates end in bloodshed?” Wade says, shrugging. He turns to let the dog inspect his face with her mouth, which she does with excruciating enthusiasm. “Hi Puppins! Hi baby!! Did you miss us? You did! Anyway, we can’t go to your bar anymore.”

Laura doesn’t look that surprised. “What did you do?”

“Logan tried to kill a guy ‘cause he called me ugly.”

“I did not try to kill him,” Logan growls, passing Laura her phone as she goes to collect her things. “I just shook him up a little.”

“In a very heroic, brash, and manly way,” Wade sings, putting an arm around his waist. “The other guy really did gush, Laura, you would’ve loved it.”

She only shakes her head and sighs. “If you say so. I gotta get home, I work at six tomorrow.”

“Thanks for dogsitting! And catsitting, too, I guess.”

“Haha, I didn’t even see him.”

Logan walks her to the door while Wade wanders deeper into the bedroom. Every time Wade tells him stories about the Other Logan, and this Laura, he tries to imagine if he can feel that connection. It’s not the same as what he feels for her now – not as massive and deep as that love had to have been – but he still cares for her. He wants to see her do well. Growing up the way she had wasn’t easy, he knows that much. And she’s a good kid. Logan knows she’s trying to do her best – even if she sometimes gets into scraps of her own.

“Thanks, kid,” Logan says as they hover in the doorway. “Have a good shift, yeah? Try to behave yourself.” From the stories he’s heard from her working as a lead at a grocery store, people aren’t always the kindest.

“Could say the same to you,” she fires back, smiling before she turns down the hallway.

He watches until she’s gone before shutting their door and locking it. When he turns, Bonnet is staring at him from the little nook under the far left kitchen cabinet, his favorite place to hide.

“Hey, buddy,” Logan calls softly, bending down. Bonnet comes to him at once, tail lifted. “What'd you do today, huh?”

The massive tabby answers him with a quiet mrow, butting his head against Logan's hand. They stay like that for a moment, each of them comforted by the other.

When Logan makes his way to the bedroom, he finds Wade already in pajamas, scrolling on his phone. Wade glances up at him with a soft smile, watching him unbutton his shirt and toss it into the hamper.

“So…overall, was it an okay day?” he asks as Logan shuffles into bed beside him in only his boxers, landing with a heavy sigh. “Worth repeating, sans the whole dramatic knockout bit towards the end?”

His hand is already carding through Logan’s hair. Wade shuffles closer to let Logan sling a leg over his hip the way he wants to, recharging after a long day of being on the go.

“‘Course,” Logan mutters. The gentle way Wade’s touching him makes his whole body go limp and relaxed almost at once. He didn’t realize how much the day had weighed on him until he felt that weight lifting. “‘Course I’d go out with you again. Didn’t really know it was that important or we coulda – coulda gone a lot sooner.”

He feels Wade shrug. “Well, it took me a minute to learn how to get all the stuff right, otherwise I might have –”

Logan sits straight up in a way that makes the bed jolt. He looks Wade right in the eye, taking in the surprise, taking in every inch of his face, aching that Wade doesn’t think he’s good enough to go out without slathering shit on.

“Wade. For once in your life, shut the fuck up and let me say something. Please.”

“Yeah, okay. You’re kind of leaving me no choice, but okay.”

Huffing out a frustrated breath, Logan pauses to think. Everything he’s itching to say will come out angry, or make him want to cry. He doesn’t want either of those options to happen – he wishes he could just fucking say hard things without it being like this. Like his heart’s going to explode out of his chest.

“Fuck,” he says, dragging his hands across his face. “Fuck, Wade.”

“What?” He feels a hand on the side of his neck, feels Wade’s heartbeat pick up. Nervous. “Peanut, what’s the matter?”

“I didn’t want – I didn’t ask you – it wasn’t – you’re not – fuck.”

He can’t breathe. Wade notices.

“Just take a minute. I’m not going anywhere.”

Feeling very small and stupid and embarrassed the entire time, Logan closes his eyes and does as Wade asks. Forcing himself to breathe in and out until his chest doesn’t feel like it’s caved in on itself. Hating that this is so fucking hard. Other people don’t have to do this. Why is he like this?

Finally, he finds his voice again.

“Wish you didn’t go out looking like that,” he admits at last. “You didn’t need to do that for me. I didn’t want it, Wade. Wanted you.”

Logan peers up at Wade, who has a small, bitter sort of smile on his face. It’s probably one of the farthest things he’s seen from his genuine grin in some time.

“As the Irish forest man himself would say, you’re too sweet for me,” he says. “But you’re used to me, bud. You don’t get it.”

Exasperation roars like fire in Logan’s mind. “What the hell don’t I get? Wade. I’ve been lookin’ at you for a year now. I like it. Haven’t I made that clear enough?”

There are fucking tears in Wade’s eyes, though he blinks them back fast, and Logan’s own throat burns in instant empathy.

“I said, you don’t get it,” he says again. “You didn’t know me before. You didn’t see what I looked like then. And if you had, you sure as fuck wouldn’t be sticking around now.”

They’re both bolt upright in the bed now, tense, facing each other. Logan can’t tell whether he’s more angry or hurt that Wade would still cling so tightly to thinking about himself like this, but whatever held him back from speaking before is long gone now. It’s time to be mad.

“News flash, jackass,” he barks. “I did see you. And yeah, maybe you were cute, but you weren’t all that. So pull yourself out of this fuckin’ –” he throws his hands up “-- hole of self pity. I love you the way you are right now, not some fake version you feel like you have to slap on.”

Wade stares at him.

He can only hold the tough act for a half second before he wonders if he’s gone too far. Because getting Wade Wilson speechless? That is a rarity, and a cause for concern.

“Sorry,” Logan says lamely, after another long beat. “If that was too much, then sorry, I just don’t want you to think you’re not good enough to –”

“You mean it?” Wade says, his voice small. “The – the love thing.”

Oh. Oh shit. He’d fully said that.

“Yeah,” Logan answers, laughing a little. “Yeah, I do.”

And fuck, he does. There’s no use pretending it’s not true anymore. He loves the stupid little songs he sings in the morning and the way he hums when he’s sleepy and how much he loves the dog. He loves how much he cares about the people in his life. He loves how fucking smart he is and how he can crack a joke with absolutely no effort. He loves his weird taste in music and how he looks in his clothes.

He loves.

He loves.

He loves.

“I really do,” Logan tells him, cupping Wade’s cheek, pulling him in to kiss him. The way Wade kisses him back is so soft, and he’s laughing too, a breathless little sound against Logan’s mouth. He climbs into his lap and wraps his arms tight around him, and they stay like that for a long time, rocking back and forth, close, warm.

“Sorry it took so long,” Logan tells him after a while. The fact that Wade had said it first, and so much earlier, still fills him with guilt.

“S’okay,” Wade answers. “It was worth it.” He places more kisses to Logan’s forehead, the bridge of his nose, his cheeks. “So…can I fuck you to celebrate this little revelation? Like, a lot?”

“Yeah, please.”

[ssparksflyy]

ours ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: leo valdez x gn!reader summary: finally going home to see leo after a long day at work ♡ warning(s): tiny swears but like youll be fine word count: 938 a/n: ive had this idea for soso long nd im glad to finally write it :)) also requests r open so send em in ! this is set after the war :D GO LISTEN TO OURS BY TAY

you sighed as you leaned back into your cheap office chair, looking over at the clock on your desk. 4:55. a whine escaped your lips as you realized you had to sit at this godforsaken desk for another five minutes.

"damn, love-struck fool can't even wait another five minutes to see their loverboy?" your coworker asked, turning around in her chair.

"whatever, melody" you said, turning your head in her direction.

she chuckled and paused, "you know, you could do so much better than him."

you turned around in your chair to face her, glaring.

"im just saying, are you really sure he's the one? i mean, he's scrawny, roughed up, and really not that cute." she said, staring at a picture of you and leo you had on your desk, one you'd taken together at a county fair.

'oh but if he were white you'd be fawning all over him' you thought.

"and those tattoos, i mean, he does realize those are permanent, right? like come on, doodle bob on your wrist? i swear, there's childish and then there's your boyfriend."

you were seriously biting your tongue now. you were so tired of people judging leo and your relationship, as if they would even try to get to know him. and you loved his doodle bob tattoo!!

"you sound like my dad, dude" you said, no emotion in your voice.

"well maybe he has i point, i mean personally, i wouldn't really approve if my kid was dating someone-"

you left before she could finish her sentence. your time was no longer hers, it was five p.m. your time belonged to leo now.

⊹₊🔥⋆｡°✩

you dropped your bag onto the floor, placed your keys on their hook and slipped off your shoes the second you walked into your apartment.

"leo? where are you?" you called out, dragging your feet.

"in the kitchen!" he shouted, and you headed over.

you walked into the kitchen to see leo making dinner, a smile spreading onto your face as you realized he was making (favorite food).

"hey! how was work today?" he asked, looking up at you with his classic leo valdez smile.

"absolutely horrible, i hated every second" you said, walking over to him and slinging your arms around his waist as you nuzzled your head into his neck, "i missed you."

he chuckled, stopping what he was doing and turning around, pulling you into his chest and giving you a hug.

"really? well what made it so horrible?" he asked, placing a kiss on top of your head.

you groaned and removed your head from his neck to look at him, "well the awkward elevator ride is always a horrible start to the day, you'd think people would learn about something called deodorant by now. then once i got to my desk, my boss called me into her office and asked me to go through some files that needed to be sorted, i didn't mind but you know, boorriinnggg. uh, and then i went back to my desk for the rest of the day and then like just as i was about to leave, melody started bitching again."

he furrowed his eyebrows, "again? gods what was she criticizing this time?"

you looked down, "you."

"me?? what have i ever done to this woman? i don't even know her!" he said, "please tell me you punched her."

"leo, you know if i didn't need this job she would've been in the hospital on life support by now" you said, raising your head and placing a kiss on his cheek.

he laughed, "well don't worry to much about her, she's just jealous. you know people just love throwing rocks at things that shine."

"oh my god when did you become a poet?" you said, pretending to be shocked.

"i heard it in a taylor swift song, okay?" he said, blushing and looking down.

you laughed as you pulled him in close once again.

⊹₊🔥⋆｡°✩

that night, you ate real good. you had loved (favorite food) before leo had made it for you, but ever since the time he made some for one of your dates, you were yet to find somebody who made it better than he did. he always claimed his version was better because his was made with undying love and affection, which always made you giggle.

after dinner, you settled down on the couch, cuddling and watching a movie. around midway, you stopped paying attention to the movie and started paying attention to leo. you seriously didn't know what you'd done to deserve someone like him. he treated you so well, and loved you in a way nobody else could. you didn't get how people like melody couldn't see that. if anything, you were a little glad they couldn't. that meant that you'd get your perfect repair boy all to yourself. you were the one who would get his toothy smiles, the ones where you were able to see the gap between his teeth that you loved so much. you were the one who would get his homemade meals whenever you came home from work. you were the one who would get to try and figure out the riddles he'd recite. you were the one who got moments like this, moments you wouldn't trade anything in the world for.

leo looked down, noticing that you were staring.

"something wrong?" he asked.

you shook your head, "i just love you so much, leo."

he smiled, "i love you too, (y/n)."

you no longer cared about what other people thought of your relationship. this love was yours, not theirs.

a/n two: tysm for reading!! js somethin short i wanted to get out :)) i fr wasnt able to listen to ours without thinking of this and i was just like ugh i need 2 write this so.. here we are! hope u enjoyed and have a good day/night !!

peace from manhattan,

percy jackson ♡

[blackhairedjjun]

(love)sick

pairing: choi yeonjun x gn reader | genre / tropes: fluff, comfort, valentines themed! | word count: 1.2k | warnings: pet names (baby, love), profanity, mentions of food, getting sick

summary: yeonjun gets sick on valentine's day. you don't mind, as long as you get to spend the day with your beloved.

author's notes: happy valentines day!! i think - it's no longer valentines day in my timezone lol. anyway, i crammed this fic while i was sick myself and after watching yeonjun's make it happen documentary (which also features him getting sick) and somehow the brain cells crossed and produced... this? LOL yeah

(support by reblogging banner by @cafekitsune)

you know that something is wrong when yeonjun calls you and asks to meet up with him at his apartment instead of picking you up from work.

it isn’t the seeming lack of chivalry that bothers you — you like stopping by your boyfriend’s apartment anyway — but the way his voice sounds on the phone. it’s hoarse and thin, and it wasn’t just the patchy cell signal outside your office building making him sound that way. his words themselves were scratchy, as if it takes him some difficulty to get them out. “i’m so sorry, baby,” he says, the word sorry sounding like a groan. “i don’t feel well enough to drive…”

“jjunie, are you okay?”

“i’m fine,” he croaks. he does not sound fine. “just need… to rest a bit. we can move the reservation by… half an hour…”

moments later, you tap your foot now and then on the bus ride from your office to his apartment, the rumbling nowhere near loud enough to drown out the frenzy in your thoughts. yeonjun booked a reservation at a fancy restaurant for valentine’s day, which he apparently had been planning since the two of you got together. you barely managed to wrangle out any hints on what he had in store, but you could tell from the shine in his eyes and his mischievous little giggles that he had something grand and romantic in mind. with the way his voice sounded on the phone, though, he might not be feeling well enough to put any of those plans into motion.

the bus gets to your stop and you practically jump off. half-walking, half-running, you head towards the sleek new apartment building yeonjun calls home, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. it doesn’t stop once you get to the building, or on the elevator ride to his place, or even until you turn the knob on his door. please, please, your thoughts echo, please let my jjunie be okay.

as you enter, you spot on the little table by the hallway a giant box of assorted chocolates and a bouquet of roses and carnations, still in pristine condition. your face grows warm at the sight — you mentioned previously to yeonjun that you wanted some pink flowers along with the traditional red — but it also rattles your nerves. yeonjun wouldn’t just leave these by his apartment, he’d usually hide them from you and wait for the right time to present them...

you walk past the valentine’s gifts. when you reach yeonjun’s bedroom door, you give a quick knock. “jjunie, it’s me…”

there’s a low groan from inside. shit, he sounds worse than you thought. “baby, i… i’m not ready yet…”

“i’m coming in anyway, okay?”

you push the door open and your heart drops at the sight.

the room is balmy. yeonjun is sprawled on his bed, half-dressed, all energy seemingly drained from his form. you gasp and rush to his side; upon closer look, his face is pale and the skin under his eyes is dark. 

“hi, baby…” he rasps. “you look pretty.”

“oh, jjunie…” you reach for him and feel his forehead with your palm. “shit. you’re burning up.”

“i burn for you, baby,” he says with a cough. he tries to be smooth about it with a smirk but it just looks like a lopsided grin to you.

you let out a chuckle but it does little to hide your worries. your hand comes up to his forehead again and you brush aside a few strands of hair from there. his skin burns hot.

“you’re sick, jjunie. i can’t… we can’t go out like this. i’m sorry baby, you need to rest.”

yeonjun’s eyes widen at your words. he forces himself to sit up and lets out a low whine. “but it’s valentine’s day! i planned this for months and—”

“i know, but you’re not well enough to go out. i’m really sorry.”

“no baby, i can make it, i一” cough! cough!

he groans and his body tips toward you. you catch him, arms circling his waist, and he buries his face in your neck. even with the heat radiating from his skin, you can feel the tears pricking at his eyes.

“i’m so sorry, baby…” he chokes back a sob. “i wanted to treat you well today, and…”

you feel his tears flow as yeonjun holds on to you, and your hold on him tightens into a full hug. with him in your arms mourning the end of your valentine’s dinner, his love for you pours out of him completely; the disappointment of the canceled date weighs on him more heavily than his illness, and it sinks into him as he clings to you. you think of the flower bouquet and the chocolate box left in the hallway and imagine how eager he must have been to give them to you and see the look on your face. 

“i’m sorry,” yeonjun whispers again. the tone of his voice makes a dull ache shift in your chest.

“oh, my jjunie,” you coo, and he nuzzles into you at the sound of your voice. “don’t be sorry. we couldn’t have predicted this. and all i care about now is making sure you feel well.”

“but… the dinner…”

“we can always have it some other time, okay? like for our anniversary or for my birthday. or for an ordinary day. it doesn’t have to be on valentine’s as long as i’m with you.”

“i know, but…” 

even when he isn’t fully convinced, yeonjun allows you to set him down on his bed. he reaches out for you and you take his hand, kissing it and placing it on your cheek. the gesture causes him to finally smile, and his fingers trace your cheekbone.

“i love you,” he whispers.

“i love you too, my jjunie.” you lean into his touch. “and you take such good care of me every day. i mean, you planned a whole dinner just for me! that’s amazing.”

yeonjun coughs, but you can see him blushing despite his fever.

“and we’ll have that dinner someday, i promise, but not now.” you place your hand atop his on your cheek; it still burns, but you don’t care. “right now all i want to do is take care of you, like you always do for me. i want to see you get better, i want to stay with you here. and i wouldn’t want to spend my valentine’s day any other way.”

when you finish speaking you bend down to give him one more kiss on the forehead. yeonjun remains speechless for a few moments, simply gazing at you, but his eyes are filled with so much affection and tenderness that you can’t look away. even when he’s sick, he’s the most beautiful man in the world to you — how can he be otherwise when he looks at you like that?”

“you’re… amazing,” he says at last. “please stay…”

your heart swells and you smile at him.

“of course, love.”

you sit on the edge of his bed, reaching for his hand and intertwining your fingers together. yeonjun manages to shift his position to be closer to you, then his arms wrap around your side. he leans his head on you, feeling your warmth. 

“the reservation,” you murmur. “i should cancel...”

your words are interrupted by a groan from yeonjun as he snuggles further into you. you let out a giggle.

“okay, okay. i’ll stay.”

[drabblesandimagines]

Dove (part three)

Leon Kennedy x female reader Part one. Part two. Warnings: Things get a bit gory in a flashback, description of panic attack.

“Anything will be great. We’ll take it slow. You ready?”

You’re not, but you doubt you ever will be.

“Ready.”

Leon taps twice on the laptop’s trackpad and it emits a beep, signaling the recording has begun, before he leans back, places his hands on his thighs and smiles. He has a nice smile, it’s reaching his eyes and you try and focus on that and not the sick feeling that’s growing in your stomach. “So, let’s go from the top. Yesterday morning…” You feel yourself inhale sharply. “..alarm goes off, or are you a natural riser?”

You weren’t expecting that to be the first question.

“I… I have an alarm.”

“What time did it go off?”

“I set it for 0630. And I got out of bed right away, otherwise I linger and then I’m late.” If only you knew what was to come you would’ve stayed in bed all day - covers pulled up and over your head.

“Then what did you do?”

“I had a shower, then I got dressed – in what you saw me in.” You hesitate - does he need that much detail, or was that too obvious and waste his time? You wait another beat, in case he wants to say anything, dismiss it from the record, but Leon just sits there there, hands resting on his thighs, looking at you, encouragingly, to continue. You press your nails into the palm of your hand, trying to concentrate. “Then I made a coffee to take with me on the walk to the office. I… I like to get there for 0745.”

“No breakfast?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Sorry. I made a slice of toast, ate it while I was waiting for the coffee to brew.” You remember leaning up against your kitchen counter to eat it – you hadn’t even got a plate out the cupboard, just buttered it on the chopping board, left the knife in the sink to wash up later… Is there going to be a later? You dig your nails into palm again, hard enough to leave indents. “Sometimes I’ll get a bagel from this cart near work, if that matters.” It probably doesn’t, but you want to stop thinking about home.

“And do you walk to the office every day?”

“No – weather dependent. I mean, there’s a bus I can take. There’s just a lot of traffic and so many stops that I found it takes the same amount of time to ride that as walk, so I get that if it’s too cold or wet. Listen to music, usually.”

“Okay, good.” He’s laying on the praise a little thick, but you accept it gratefully all the same, along with his smile. “Doing really good. So, you walked to work. Anything unusual you remember from on the way there?”

“No. Just the same walk, really. I’m pretty good at the whole awareness of my surroundings cos of the job, so…”

“Of course,” he nods. “And you got in the office at 0745?”

“Erm… Probably not precisely 0745.” You scan in through a turnstile, don’t wanna say you got in at a specific time in case it comes back to haunt you. “And I don’t need to be clocked on until 0800, but I had time to made another coffee in the breakroom before I logged on to my terminal, so probably between 0745 and 0800.”

“And are there turnstiles or a security check when you enter?” Had he read your mind? No, he probably has it noted down to cross-check your story.

“Yeah – bag searched, walk through the metal detector, then there’s a turnstile I have to scan in at.” Like any of those protocols had stopped whatever or whoever it was who had got inside.

“Okay, good. Headed to the breakroom, then from there to your terminal, and no other stops, no colleague interruptions?”

“Er… Yeah, one.” You swallow, her face flashing across your mind. “Am I allowed to use their name?”

Leon nods.

“Clara was in the breakroom when I got there, making a coffee. She had a date the night before – I asked her how it went.”

“Okay. Do you know what the date’s name was?”

“No. She’d just mentioned it the day before, though. We were leaving at the same time and she was excited about it, so I thought I’d ask. He’d been really dull at dinner apparently. She didn’t think she’d bother seeing him again.”

And no-one will be seeing her ever again either, your brain so helpfully reminds you.

“Okay. So, you’ve made it to the office, made your coffee, spoke to Clara, sat down at the terminal… What’s that, exactly?”

“It’s a computer, basically. All linked in to the main server, sit in like half cubicles. The screens have these hoods on, so no-one can see what you’re looking at unless they’re in the seat. They’re called terminals on all the internal documents.”

“Right, got you. What’s a usual work day for you? Did yesterday’s seem any different?”

“Do you know much about the surveillance department?”

Leon shakes his head. “I know you’re an intel source.”

“Yeah, that’s about it. Individuals get marked for surveillance from email scans or phone calls, travel plans, receipts, CCTV – it can be just be a word that flags them up or someone makes a tip-off, then we conduct investigations to see whether they’re involved in bioterrorism. So, I log on and open my assigned cases. We rotate every day and there’s always a few you can dismiss immediately because it’s flagged up erroneously. Some, there’s already previous analysis done, so you go through the notes and then check if there’s been any activity or correspondence logged overnight. If there hasn’t been on those cases, I open up a new case – rinse and repeat. It’ll give me a notification on the system if there’s activity on any of my pre-allocated cases, so I switch between as activity starts and stops.”

“Huh,” he muses. “How do you pick up a new case – just see what takes your fancy?”

“No,” you shake your head. “They’re random. You click a button and the system assigns you one. They change the code every week of how it does it.”

“Why’s it random?”

“Er, in case anyone is… trying to protect someone, I guess? Or being blackmailed into, like, closing a case.”

“I see. And nothing out of the ordinary all morning?”

“No. I… I had one case that had had a lot of email activity overnight, so I went through that. Then I submitted a couple of reports advising three… or maybe four cases be closed - I can’t remember exactly - but it’s not unusual to advise closing cases as people get flagged up all the time.”

“Yeah, all make sense. Did you get a break?”

“Yeah, I had a break at 1300 to 1330. I brought in a boxed lunch…” You didn’t mention that earlier, did you? “I made it the night before – not in the morning. I grabbed it out of the fridge before I left my apartment.”

“It’s all right, Dove.” Leon soothes. “I’m not expecting you to remember every finite detail – you’re doing really well.”

You nod, a little shakily. “I ate it in the breakroom. A couple of my colleagues popped in and out, but no-one sat with me that day. I made a coffee and went back to my terminal.”

“Okay.” He nods, leaning forward then and squinting a little at something on the laptop screen. “So, 1442 is when the power was cut to the building. Where were you when that happened?”

“I had an active call that I was listening in on, it hadn’t been going on very long. And then…” You fix your stare on the coffee table then – you don’t want to look at Leon’s face anymore, those sympathetic blue eyes. “..everything went dark. There was about 15 seconds before the emergency lighting came on, or it should’ve been. We have drills every so often, and it’s meant to be quick, but only enough to light the path to the fire exits, you know? But it looked like the back-up generator was coming on too, because I’m sure I saw the terminal screen reboot a second.”

“And you didn’t hear anyone say anything?”

“I think it was quiet, I don’t know if anyone said anything, but there wasn’t an alarm to evacuate. I had my headphones on still as I thought when the terminal reboots, I’ll just get straight back into the call if it was still going after I logged in because they’ll be annoyed if we all left unnecessarily, you know?” Your eyes are still fixed on the coffee table, so you don’t know if he nods or not. “But then…” You wonder if your nails will pierce through the skin of your palm this time with how hard you're pressing. “Then I heard this scream and… And…”

You let out a shuddering breath, hearing the scream echoing around in your mind.

“It’s all right, Dove,” Leon reaches out a hand but stops himself, leaving it hovering awkwardly over your knee. “Here,” he leans forward instead, picks up the glass. “Have some water, okay?”

You take the glass, not even able to say thank you, and put it up to your lips, but it clinks against your teeth, feels too cold sliding down your throat and into your stomach.

He takes the glass back from you as you lower it from your lips, placing it down on the table gently, and waits. He doesn’t press, he doesn’t smile, just waits.

You exhale, close your eyes – you’re not sure if it makes it worse.

“I… I took my headphones off and I… I couldn’t work out what it was. It didn’t sound human – something guttural. I think I heard someone swear, and more screams, but those were human. I-I got up from my chair, stepped out and looked down the hall and… there was this thing, like…” You search for the words, but not for too long. “Sorry, I don’t how to describe it.”

“That’s all right. We’ve got them on the CCTV.”

“But it had... someone in its mouth. And I should know who it was, because I’ve worked with these people for so long, but it h-had their head in its mouth. How could I not know?” Your voice breaks.

“Dove,” Leon starts, gently, “I think we should take a break.”

You shake your head, determined to get it over with. “It shook its head, like a dog shakes a toy, but it bit down and… I don’t know if I blacked it out because I don’t remember how I got there, but I was on the ground, like something had knocked me down and… someone was on top of me.”

“I am so sorry.”

“There were more and more screams and sounds I can’t describe - from all around – and everywhere I looked there just seemed another one of those things, clambering over cubicles with these awful, long tongues, snapping around limbs and, like, ricocheting people back. I got up and ran but there was blood in my eyes and I don’t know if it was mine or someone else’s, but I didn’t get far because this horrible wet thing wrapped around my arm and I got thrown into the wall or something else hard. My arm went limp – I think that’s when it dislocated my shoulder and maybe that confused it because it let go? I don’t know why it would let go when it didn’t for anyone else and… I… The stairs…”

And that’s it, your resolve has cracked and sobs erupt from deep within your chest, your whole body shaking, your vision obscured with hot tears and you can’t breathe with the grief.

There’s a beep – Leon’s frantically stopped the laptop recording, and then he’s sat right next to you, taking your good hand in his and squeezing it.

“I need you to breathe, okay? It’s going to seem hard, but I know you can do it, Dove. We’re going to breathe in through the nose for four, hold that breath in our lungs for another four, and then we’re going to exhale through our mouths for four. Okay? I’m gonna keep count with a squeeze of your hand, close your eyes if you want, I just really need you to breathe.”

You nod, sobs instead of breaths, and it feels impossible as Leon begins squeezing your hand in rounds of four. It’s poor at best, not inhaling enough, breaths still cut short as you cry, but he persists, round after round until, finally, you feel the air is finally reaching the bottom of your lungs, crying reduced to sniffles – feeling exhausted.

“I should’ve stopped you – realized you needed a break.” He stops squeezing your hand but he doesn’t let go.

“No,” your voice still feels tight. “I wanted it over with. Is that selfish?”

“Not at all.” Leon replies quickly, firmly, before his tone softens. “I know this a dumb question before I even ask, but is there anything I can do for you right now, or get you?”

“Can I have a hug?” You ask, quietly - a fleeting thought of that surely would be against protocol, but you need something grounding.

“Of course.” His arms wrap around you – strong, solid, warm arms, mindful of your shoulder, pressing you into his chest and the scent of the strawberry bodywash. You can hear his heartbeat as you press your face into him.

Leon doesn’t speak, doesn’t move either, just keeps holding you close. Hell, he needed a hug after Raccoon City, he’d just never got the guts to ask Claire for one. Not in front of Sherry anyway, and no-one was gonna hug him when he got sent off to military training.

He doesn’t know how long you’ve sat like that, but he is aware as you grow limp against his chest, falling into an emotionally exhausted sleep. He knows it’s not proper for him to be doing this with you, the DSO asset he’s meant to be protecting, but from past experience, he knows you won’t be asleep long and what the DSO doesn’t know can’t hurt them.

Speaking of, he thinks, leaning against the back of the sofa and tilting you gently down with him, he slips a hand into his pocket for his phone and types a quick message.

Interview concluded. Will have timeline of incident and report sent by 2000. Summary - experiencing survivor's guilt, not a suspect.

--

Part four.

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day! PS: I'm sorry if this was extremely boring but hopefully some nice fluff in there for you at the end x

[billluver0124]

"Even My Bones"

synopsis: bill falls inlove with y/n after meeting her at a gas station, a month later; after a moment of passion something is revealed about her.

WARNINGS: cannibalism, blood, makeout scene

authors note: this story is inspired by the movie 'bones and all', i immediately thought of a plot after watching the movie. but this story does get gorey, so please scroll of you are uncomfortable reading. thank you to @rottinglilys for helping me with this story<3 enjoy my lovies, mwah!

BILLS POV: it was like yesterday when i met her. i was at a gas station, my brother tom waiting in the car as i bought myself a pack of skittles and a pack of cigarettes. then there she was, the love of my life; i didnt know it then but i know it so much now. she looked different then other girls, her eyes were as big and doey as a deer, her smile was as bright as the sun. there was something unique about her, she was almost inhuman-like, but so beautiful. i caught myself watching her every move as she walked around the station..

Y/NS POV:

i walked into the gas station, using the amount of money i had left to get myself some snacks and water for the journey that was to come. "that'll be 13.74 please" the cashier told me, i gave him fifteen bucks and he gave me the remaining change, and the stuff i bought of course. i thanked him, before catching a glimpse at the boy who was staring at me the entire time; and leaving to continue my walk. (the rest of the story is now in third person !)

bill mentally slapped himself for not talking to her at the gas station, but he shook it off as he walked back to the car, continuing his drive with tom back home. "why do you look so gloomy?" tom asked, with small concern. "nothing, im just tired" bill replied, giving tom a small smile as he continued to drive him and tom.

after bill dropped tom off at his house, he now drove the route to his house. when he saw her again, walking on the road all by herself, with nothing but a backpack. "hey!" he shouted, catching her attention. "are you okay miss?" "uhh yea, im okay" she replied, not very sure about her answer "well, why are you walking alone? its late and its not safe at this hour" bill asked, concerned for her well being. y/n looked around the area, the boy was right, it did look pretty dangerous out here in the dark "w-well, d-do you think you could gimme a ride?" y/n asked, slightly nervous about her surroundings. "yea, come in" bill opened the passenger side door for her, allowing her to come in. she puts on her seat belt as they continued the drive. "you live around here?" bill asked, y/n looking at him for a small moment before answering "actually i dont, im not from here" "where were you gonna stay?" bill asked, curiousity filled his senses. "i was just gonna sleep at a bus stop" she said nonchalantly, bill turned to look at her once again, wide eyed "are you crazy? nonsense, you can stay with me at my place!" "n-no, you dont have to-" "i insist, no pretty girl like you should stay alone like that" bill immediately blushed after he realized what he called her, y/n blushing to herself as she took the compliment. after a small moment she spoke..

"im y/n" she looked to him as she spoke, bill replying soon after "im bill, its a pleasure to meet you" y/n softly smiled. sitting in a soft and peaceful silence the rest of the drive home. they finally reached his house, bill leads her inside, helping her take off her beat up sage green converse and hanging her backpack on a hanger. "you can sleep in my room if youd like, i dont mind sleeping on the couch" "no, its your house, ill sleep on the couch" y/n insisted, not willing to negotiate anything else. and thats what happened, y/n slept on the couch...for most of the night. bill wakes up to the sound of y/n panicking, he rushes out of the room and holds her in his arms "you're okay, everything's okay" he soothes her as she cried in his arms, after she calms down a bit she speaks "i-i had a nightmare.." bill softly smiled at her, even in such a panicked state; she was still so beautiful to him "do you wanna come sleep with me in my room?" "i-is that okay with you?" she asked, bill smiled even more "its more than okay with me" bill takes her to his bed, holding her in his arms as they both slept. he knows he shouldnt move this fast with her, he didn't even know her for gods sake! but something about her was so, addicting. A month goes by, bill and y/n began to know more about each other, both sharing their feelings in the process, sharing a few intimate nights with each other too. bill knew she was the one, the missing puzzle piece in his life, the filling of the void he had for so long. bill knew it was always her. and y/n felt the exact same. they loved each other.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

bill held her waist as he kissed her neck, hearing her sweet moans for him. he smirks, going back up to her lips; their tongues dancing with each other in one anothers mouths. y/n had her hands in dreads, melting in his addicting touch. "god i love you so much" bill groaned, "i love you too" y/n moans back.

then all of a sudden, y/n had this violent urge of hunger, her skin began to crawl as she drooled for bill. she needed to feed. she goes down to his neck, mumbling an 'im so sorry' before sinking her teeth in bills neck. bill yells in pain as a response.

BILLS POV: "liebe! stop, i-its me!" i cried, trying to push her off but she was too strong. i felt another wave of pure agony as i watched her dig her nails into the flesh on my chest, feeding it into her mouth, another scream of pain as my response. but after a moment, something made me accept this. it was her beauty, she was literally ripping me apart and eating me. but even with my blood all over her...still, she looked so beautiful. "i love you y/n" those were my last words, the last things i needed to say as i watched her, tear me apart piece by piece. consuming my existence, eating my entire body... even my bones. Y/NS POV: after i ate him, i snapped out of my trance and realized what i just did. i just killed...and ate the love of my life. he was my everything, my soulmate. and i just ripped him apart and consumed him so selfishly. what is wrong with me?, there was nothing but a pool of blood and his hair, his beautiful black hair with white dreads, that was the only thing i had for memory of him. i got up to go to the bathroom, catching my reflection in the mirror. i looked so disgusting, his blood was all over me, there were pieces of him stuck in my teeth. all i could do now, was cry. i felt myself falling to my knees, screaming out all my regret in cries, why did i have to be like this? and out of all people... why did it have to be bill?

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ᴘɪᴘᴇᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ (J.M)

*vision bored doesn't describe readers' looks it describes the vibes of the story*

Pairing: football-player!Joel Miller x golden-girl!Fem!Reader

POV: This story is told through the POV of high school senior Joel Miller

Summary: Joel's girl lives in his dreams and in the house next door. He's always known her, and he's always wanted her, but in ApplePine, whose dream does she not haunt? Now He has a chance that He's been looking forward to all his life. This can't fail. He won't let someone like her slip away.

Warnings/tags: Kind of toxic undertones, mentions of a bad home life (reader), church, idolization, nerves, kissing and making out, small Texas town with very traditional values, climbing and watching people through windows, Joel is a Lil bit of a stalker, BAD American football talk. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

WC: 4.5k

On most Saturdays and after church on Sundays, she could be found working at the local ice cream shop. Occasionally, if there wasn't a football game, she would also work on Fridays. She was a well-known figure in our small town - being the girl next door, head cheerleader, and leading member of the student council. Her many accomplishments included winning the title of Little Miss Apple Pine, which only added to her popularity. Many of us admired her from afar, watching her ride her bike with friends, interact with the little kids in the neighborhood, or simply be in her element with a book in hand and a Walkman playing some music.

It was difficult to tell what music she listened to, but I'd like to think it was hard rock, maybe Guns N' Roses. However, her sweet nature suggested it was more likely to be Bon Jovi or AC/DC. Despite her bright persona, we all knew that she had a tough time at home, our houses were right next to each other too It was sad but there's only so much a loud TV can cover.

We attend the same school and ride the same bus together. We have chemistry class as well as lunch B together. Additionally, we share gym and math classes. I have noticed that she is quieter in math class and doesn't answer questions as quickly. In math class, she sits three seats ahead of me, and during lunch, she sits six seats away from me. Her round lunch table is located ten tables away from mine, and it's always occupied by a few cheerleaders and jocks who are considered acceptable, unlike me who often gets thrown off the field for hitting refs because of not knowing if  I'm coming or going. Compared to them, she seems to be in another world, like a cool autumn day in the middle of a hot Texas summer.

As the chemistry class began, Mr. McMory walked into the classroom with his glasses resting on the tip of his nose. He had only undone the top button of his shirt, showing some long curly grey chest hairs — utterly gross if you ask me. We all watched as he walked to the whiteboard at the front of the classroom. He clasped his hands together behind his back and stopped before turning to face the class.

"Now, as most of you probably know, we will need to form a new set of lab partners for this semester. However, to keep things fair so everyone gets a chance of getting matched with whom You would prefer, I've decided to have you all write your names on a small piece of paper and put them in this box. Once I've finished passing them out, I will draw two student names from the box at random, and those two will be your partners for this semester."

Without having to pause, Mr. McMory spoke clearly. This routine was something he did every marking period, four times a year, for 30 years. The memories of the previous marking period memories flooded my mind, where Jason Duly and Billy Holiday tried to bribe Gaby Michelle to give up her seat so that they could sit next to our classmate, the charming "I trust that you all understand the process now?" Mr. McMory continued. Once no one raised their hands to question what he said, he walked back to the front and handed out the small pieces of paper to everyone. "Now you have two minutes to write your names on the paper, then place it into the box. Once you are all finished, I will begin the randomized selection."

Chaos began to take place across the room with various bets being placed and trades being arranged like a market in the middle of a jungle, I wrote my name on the slip of paper without a thought. It was a meaningless task to me, as I would have been fine with getting anyone as my lab partner. In the middle sat our Pipe Dream, seemingly clueless to it all, while these students scrambled like mad to gain the favor of their desired partners, and the professor seemed unaware of all the action taking place in the classroom.

The chaos of the class was suddenly drowned out by Mr. McMory yelling out to have students start putting their slips into the box. As the box was quickly getting more and more full, the class started to become more and more silent and calm as no one wanted to be one of the ones not getting the partner they wanted even if they all wanted the same one our darling Miss pipedream isn't only perfect in every way but she's also incredibly smart.

Mr. McMory walked to the front of the classroom and stood in front of the whiteboard. He held the box and a red whiteboard marker. "No changing partners unless both parties are in agreement," he said as he paused and placed the box on a stool in front of him. He then pulled out the first two names. "Gaby and Hannah," he announced, causing a small gasp from some students. Mr. McMory placed the paper down and wrote the names on the board. There was a moment of silence before a low murmur began to spread throughout the classroom Mr. McMory then pulled out another two slips from the box and announced the next pairs of names: "Billy and Jillian, Jason and Cory." As each pair was announced, the two people were immediately surrounded by cheers of excitement or groans of disappointment. Some students could be overheard saying things like "no way!" and "I can't believe this!" and "Are we sure it's fair?" There were a few complaints here and there that their partner was not who they wanted, but Mr. McMory quickly cut them off, saying, "No changing partners unless both parties are in agreement, understood?"

As I stood watching the chaos break loose behind me, I couldn't help but chuckle at how quickly everything was unfolding. However, my laughter came to a sudden halt when Mr. McMory announced me and a stranger as partners.No, not a stranger, It was the girl who seemed to have it all, the girl who had effortlessly made her way through every aspect of the school and had become something of a legend. She was the girl next door, the one every boy wanted, and the only one I was enamored with at the slightest glance in her direction. My heart skipped a beat as I looked over the crowd and saw her smiling brightly at me. Time seemed to slow down as the rest of the world faded away. It was as if the universe was just waiting for us to get to know each other. My nervousness quickly turned into an adrenaline rush as I became more and more excited. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up, a chance to turn my dreams into reality and finally figure her out.

On the bus, I noticed her again. We made eye contact but didn't speak. She sat with her friend Sally Handson until she got off at her stop. However, I didn't expect her to move over and sit in the same seat as me.

"You're Joel, right?" she asked me before kindly offering her hand to shake.

"That's me," I smiled as I gently took her hand in mine and shook it. Our skin connected, and I felt a slight tremor in my hand before letting go, not wanting to make the situation any more awkward. I looked back up to see her, and she seemed to be just as nervous as I felt. The silence seemed to linger on for a moment before she spoke again.

"I just wanted to ask if you've had a chance to look at the assignment yet?"

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before speaking. "No, actually, I'm not very good at chemistry. I was probably going to copy off of you, to tell you the truth," I said, trying to make a joke, but struggling to hide the fact that it was true.

She smiled brightly, showing off her pearly white teeth. "Like all football players. It's okay though, I can help you study sometime if you'd like?"

As she spoke, my heart skipped a beat and my cheeks flushed. The offer of her help flooded my mind with different scenarios, from spending time with her after school to studying together at the library or even hosting study groups at our houses. I chuckled nervously and nodded my head.

The sudden stop of the bus snapped me back to reality, and a thought raced through my mind. Should I ask to walk her home? The offer seemed so appealing, and I was filled with possibilities of getting to know her even better. It was time to take the chance, but I had to fight the nervousness building inside me.

"Hey, are you walking to your house? Because I was just going to ask if...if I could walk you home?" I spoke the words carefully, fearing that I might mess up and ruin the moment. I fiddled with the straps of my backpack, feeling my heart pound in my chest as I waited for her response.

She smiled kindly at me. "Yes, and I would love that. Do you know which house?"

"I do," I said with a slightly more confident tone than before. I felt myself calming down as the idea of walking home together became more real. She began to take in the neighborhood around us, and I thought it was a perfect time to start a conversation.

"So, this is where you live?"

She giggled, and her laughter was infectious. I couldn't help but smile. "Joel, you and I have lived in the same neighborhood since we were newborns. We're neighbors for goodness sake, no need to be so formal with me."

She was right; I was overthinking our interactions. We had been neighbors for as long as I could remember. "Oh yeah...I suppose you have a point. I guess my nervousness made me go blank like that. I'm just not used to seeing you when you're not out on the field with your cheer squad." I chuckled, feeling my nerves die down even more as I looked over at her and relaxed a bit more.

"I understand it's hard not to picture me like that, and you as well, Joel. You're violent on the field. I'm pretty sure that referee from Tentown had a broken nose," she tries to make conversation. 

The mention of the game in Tentown makes me chuckle a bit. That was the first game in the league where I was allowed to play, and I suppose my desire to prove myself ended with me getting a bit carried away. The thought of the ref's nose makes me chuckle a bit more as I couldn't help but feel bad for the ref. 

"Yeah, I think you're right about that. But that's just how it is, right? The game is pretty brutal. I can't play without getting a little carried away." 

She thinks for a second and then says, "Maybe that's why you're always benched, along with Tommy? Speaking of your brother, where is he? Oh, and how are poor freshmen? I heard the older football players are being a little mean."

The question about my benching for games suddenly brings back my nervous energy, and I immediately feel uncomfortable talking about it. "That's probably one of the reasons for it, yeah..." I sigh as the mention of my brother and some of the team's hazing of the freshman brings a frown to my face.

"It pisses me off how they treat some of the freshmen like that. I don't see why they can't just treat them like the rest of the team..." I pause mid-sentence as the thought comes to my mind.

"I feel so bad for the poor freshman. They do the same thing on the cheer team," she said. We stopped at the crossing signal, and I was surprised by how well she could relate to what I was describing. It dawned on me that she may have experienced it more than I had considering how involved she is in cheer. We waited for the light to turn green, and I smiled at her.

"We should set up a study date sometime soon. After all, you said you're not that good at chemistry?" she said as we got closer to her house. I was thrilled at the possibility of spending more time with her.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. I'll certainly need the help," I chuckled. She walked ahead of me with a sweet little glide in her step, making me have to catch up to her as we continued walking.

"Which days work for you?" she asked, opening her backpack and taking out a pen and paper. "Oh, and write down your landline number." I replied, "I'm pretty much free all week, so just let me know what works for you." Her request for my landline number made my heart skip a beat as it reminded me of when she offered to help me at her place.

"How about Friday after school since there's no game? We can meet at my place," she suggested as we stood outside her front gate. "That works great for me! We can discuss our study plans and maybe even study together if you're up for it," I replied excitedly. "Your place sounds perfect, and I just want to say thank you," I added, feeling grateful for her help. She smiled and said, "Of course, Joel." Then she walked into her yard and house, waving goodbye.

Friday couldn't come any quicker in my mind. I couldn't get Miss Applepine, Cheery Pie, Pipe Dream out of my head at all. The more we talked in class, the more I fell under her spell and the more I wanted to know... She was a mystery, and I wanted to be the first to hear everything she was willing to tell.

now stand at her front door. I rang the doorbell eagerly waiting for her to answer. She opened the door; she looked so pretty. "Come on in, Joel," she opened the door to let me in. In all my years of being neighbors, I always wondered what her house looked like, and to be honest, her house is less organized than I thought.

"Sorry about the mess. You know, it's just me and my dad, and I'm a little behind on chores... um... studying," she began to ramble but stopped herself. It was rather cute; it made me smile even more.

"Come on upstairs to my room. I have all my books and everything up there," she led me up to her bedroom. It was so normal - band posters, photos of her family, school items, her numerous awards, and her window looked directly into my room.

As we entered her room, I couldn't resist glancing over to her window again. It felt like this was the closest I could get to seeing inside her home for A Long time and now I'm inside the looking glass. I took a seat right next to her bed as she went to her bookshelf to collect her textbooks. As we started reviewing the material, a wave of butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I occasionally stole a glance at her while she flipped through different articles, but I couldn't hold my stare for long.

"Are these all the books we're going to be using?" I asked as she placed her biology and chemistry books on her desk. I watched her lean over, her eyes almost glued to the books as she read through them. "Yeah, these are the ones. I just want to make sure that we're both prepared for this project. It's about how we think the universe began, so lots to cover" she replied with a soft smile that brought me back to reality for a moment as I gazed into her eyes.

"I'm ready to start studying. So, what do you want to start with?" she asked as I sat down. She looked at me with a sweet smile and thought for a moment before responding, "Do you think we should start with chemistry? I know it's the one you struggle with the most."

"Sure, that works," I replied excitedly she remembered that from the walk my cheeks got a little pink as I opened the book and looked over her shoulder to find the section she had mentioned. I was determined to pay close attention this time, feeling more relaxed thanks to her calm and collected presence.

Every little gesture or movement she made caught my full attention like a spark in my head. Her adorable smile and the way she played with her hair made it difficult to resist complimenting her. When she asked if she could ask me something, it snapped me out of my trance for a moment. I replied with a simple "Yeah, sure."

As she playfully hit my shoulder, her touch felt light as a feather. I couldn't help but smile, sitting up and crossing my legs like she was doing. Moving my book from my lap, I placed it on the end of her bed. "Why can't you focus?" she asked, and my heart started racing. I didn't want to tell her the truth, so I lied, "No reason..." Trying to act casual, I could feel myself blushing as she hit my shoulder and called me out. It was because of her - her sweet smile, small gestures, and the way she sat cross-legged on her bed - that I couldn't focus. But I couldn't just outright admit that I had a massive crush on her.

"We can take a break?" she offered, and I felt even more nervous. The idea of taking a break meant a chance to talk about things other than studying and a chance to just hang out with her. I was hoping that she felt the same way and that she also couldn't help but notice the tension that was building between us. I sat back up and joked, "You're saying that as if I would deny the offer." My heart was racing, and I couldn't help but wonder if she could feel the same tension I did.

As we continued to talk, I made sure to continue moving closer to her every chance that I could get. The heat coming from her body filled me with a new sense of boldness as I tried to make my actions more noticeable. "I mean who can blame me, when I'm sitting across from someone so charming..." I said as I leaned forward a little, making the distance between us almost nonexistent.

"Have you been studying for long?" she asked me as she laid back on her bed, making it clear that she had no plans to get up anytime soon. As the conversation shifted towards more flirtatious topics, I started to blush slightly. "Do you mean studying?..." I replied to her, but even I could hear that my voice had taken on a flirty tone.

"Yes, studying, or are you just as brain-dead as the other football players?" she joked. "Hey now, what are you implying?" I responded teasingly as I moved closer to her. As we talked more, the tone of the conversation became increasingly flirtatious, and I struggled to hold back my blush. "You're the one who keeps saying we should take a break. Sounds like you don't want to study..." I said, trying to pretend to focus on a book.

But even as we continued discussing the material or pretending to, I noticed her eyes drifting toward me as she glanced up and down my body. It made me feel a little uneasy, but also excited as I wondered what she was thinking. Could she feel the same tension between us that I felt?

"Hmmm, maybe I don't. But you're the one who said yes to the break." she grinned mischievously as I scooted slightly closer to her, looking up and staring into her eyes. "You make it kind of hard to pay attention..."

As we continued to talk The heat coming from her body filled me with a sense of boldness as I attempted to make my actions more noticeable. "I mean, who can blame me when I'm sitting across from someone so charming?" I said as I leaned forward a little, making the distance between us almost nonexistent.

"I'm flattered. I'll take that as a compliment since you're also very kind with your words," she said as I moved even closer to her. We were almost too close for comfort, but I couldn't resist getting even closer. "I thought I was charming, but you are even more charming than I imagined," I told her, leaning in even closer until I was practically touching her. I felt like I was crossing a line, but I couldn't help myself. Her eyes seemed to be blushing, and I felt a sudden burst of confidence. I brought my hand up to her side, almost touching her waist. "You are an interesting girl," I whispered.

"You find me interesting?" she asked, smiling shyly and looking down. I could tell she was blushing and feeling a little embarrassed, but I decided to take a risk and leaned in even closer. Our faces were almost touching, and I could feel her breath on my face. I looked up at her and felt a rush of emotions.

"I didn't know you were so easy to read," I said as I leaned even closer to her, this time the tiny distance between us was nothing but air. I couldn't help but feel that feeling building inside me again as I watched her face grow redder and redder as it appeared to be a little closer every time. "I'm sure most guys would be more than happy to take advantage of a beautiful girl like you.”

“Are you most guys? Should I be worried? I'm not a one-and-done girl, Joel…” she said, showing insecurity for what seems to be the first time. As she asked me if I was 'most guys', I couldn't help but feel my heart sink for a brief second as I heard her insecurity, but I quickly recovered and smiled as I looked down at her. My hands slowly wrapped around her waist as I leaned even closer. "Oh please, you think I'm going to leave someone as beautiful and kind as you just like that. You aren't a one-and-done girl, you're... you're an angel." I slowly leaned forward so our faces were just a hair's width apart. I gazed into her eyes, lost in the moment, when she suddenly exclaimed, "An Angel?" Her voice was soft, yet full of wonder, as if she had just seen something magical. She was so close to me that I could feel her breath on my face, and I couldn't help but notice the way her face immediately flushed up with red. Her eyes quickly looked down, as if to distract herself from her sudden burst of emotion.

I kept looking at her, waiting for her to look back up at me. I leaned down just a bit more, my heart racing with anticipation, as my lips were barely an inch from hers when she finally decided to look back up. I couldn't help but feel the surge of joy rushing through my body as I saw the way her eyes slowly opened and she looked back up to face me.

The way her cheeks were still flushed and the shy, but happy look on her face was exactly what I needed. It was the perfect moment as I leaned in for the kiss. Our lips met in a sweet and simple embrace, and I felt a warmth spread through my body. It was like time had stopped, and nothing else mattered in the world except for that moment. I held her close as we kissed, and I knew deep down inside that this was the start of something special.

The kiss started gentle but with each second that passed it started to become more intense. The heat of her body and the way her hands ran through my hair was making my heart skip a few beats as I started to wish I could pull her into an even deeper kiss. I didn't want to overwhelm her though so I tried to keep it simple, although it was hard to keep my hands from finding every part of her body that I could. She's not someone who wants a one-time thing and I'll do everything I can to make sure she doesn't think all I want is sex.

We disengaged when we heard her front door slam shut. "That's my dad!" she exclaimed, her urgency evident. "He can't know you're here." She swiftly rose, pulling me up with her, both of us breaking away from the kiss as she hurried us along. Her pace was so brisk that it took a moment for me to catch on before I scrambled up. "Why can't he know I'm here?" I whispered, trying to avoid any noise as her dad ascended the stairs.

"Because he'll flip if he finds a guy in my room. Though, it's not like it's the first time I've had a guy over," she rushed, steering us towards her bedroom window. "Seriously? You've done this before?" I questioned? but that conversation could wait as we reached her bedroom window, which she promptly opened, urging me outside.

"Well, there was this one time Dad caught me, and he nearly lost it. I promised I wouldn't do it again, and he dropped it," she explained hurriedly, her insistence on getting me out the window starting to concern me. I trusted she knew what she was doing, but I wasn't quite prepared for what came next.

"Are you seriously making me climb out your window?" I protested.

"Don't be a wimp. You'll be fine. You're not the first guy I've had over," she reassured, though her words didn't ease my nerves. The distance from her window to the ground seemed to grow as she tugged me closer to the edge.

As I began to climb out, my foot slipped, and I fell with a hard thud and a loud squeak.

Despite the throbbing pain in my ankle, the walk home afforded me ample time to ponder, and my thoughts continuously circled back to her. I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right, as if she was keeping something from me. If she's had numerous guys over before, why the sudden worry about her dad catching her? Was I just another casual fling to her? My mind brimmed with inquiries for my elusive "little miss pipedream."

[natti-ice]

Would You Have Me?- Sirius Black.

Pairing: Sirius Black x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N is the only person in Sirius’ life he truly cares about, he wouldn’t mind if it was only them

Warnings: modern high school au!, written in third person (she/her pronouns) (1.6k words)

Author's note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

The final bell rang, it was Friday hundreds of students poured out of the school doors ready for the weekend. Y/N was among the swarm of kids, headed toward her bus. Thankful it was the weekend, this week had been a lot on her. Off in the distance, she could hear her name over the loud voices. Looking around shielding her eyes from the sun, she could see a tall boy headed her way. 

It was Sirius

"There you are," he said when he reached her, throwing his arm around her shoulder "Where are you off to?" he asked

"My bus" she pointed to the big yellow vehicle

"C'mon, I'll take you home" he offered

"Really?" she asked

"Yeah, you can tell me all about your day"

They walked to the student parking lot, Sirius drove a black '89 Dodge charger. It was a little squeaky, but he loves that car. 

He opens the passenger door for Y/N, closing it once she was in. Sirius Drove the long way to her house so they could talk longer.

"How was your day, dear?" he asks pulling out of the campus

"It was fine, I'm glad the week is over. Everything has been a lot lately" 

It was their junior year, everyone is starting to worry about their futures. Their career, college, exams, everything stressful. 

"I know what you mean, it feels like we have to know everything about the future before it happens" he replies

They continue their conversation all the way to Y/N's house. They've always been able to tell each other everything without feeling judged. Nowadays, it feels like you have to make sure everything is perfect because the whole world is watching, waiting for you to fall.

He was her safe place, and she was his. 

Sirius pulls up in front of her house, parking the car.

"Thanks for the ride, Sirius" she says opening the car door

"Of course, love. Hey, do you wanna hang out tomorrow?" he asks

"Yeah, sure I'll ask my parents. I'll text you" she answers

"Great, I'll see you soon then" He smiles

"Bye" she says closing the door.

He waits for her to go inside before driving off like he does every time. He sees her almost every day, but he still gets excited when they hang out. It's like a new experience every time, even when they've done it one hundred times before.

-

When he got home, he waited anxiously for her text. Her parents have never said no before, but it still made him a little nervous. He's made sure over the years that her parents liked him, he didn't want them to think he was just some guy who was only hanging out with their daughter to get in her pants.

He started his homework that probably won't get finished till Monday morning, checking his phone every few minutes.

Finally, after what felt like an hour, she texted him

parents said it's cool What did you have in mind?

 Movie? Wonka is still showing. Stay at my place after?

Timothee Chalamet? HELL YEAH! Definitely down for a sleepover

 Great! I'll pick u up at 4

See you then! <3

He was happy that she could come, he liked being able to get out of the house and escape with her. Everyone has family issues, his family was distant from each other. It was almost like they were roommates, not a family. His parents didn't care if he was gone or if he had someone over.

His brother stayed in his room most of the day when he got home from school. Their bond was limited to short interactions in the dining room on special occasions.

Y/N was his real family, she was always there for him whenever he needed her. At school, many people claimed to be his friend, they'd say hey in the hallway or talk about some game that happened the night before. None of them would actually have a real meaningful conversation with him.

He didn't get why he was so popular, he was sociable and easy on the eyes sure, but nobody knew the real him. It seemed like they had all made a false version of him in their heads. A mysterious ladies' man who could have anyone he wanted.

That wasn't true at all, he wasn't a mystery at all. He was very open once you got to know him, only Y/N had ever made the effort to do so. The whole 'ladies' man' thing was really funny to him. He'd never had a serious girlfriend, a few dates here and there but nothing real.

Many of those girls thought that him and Y/N had a thing going on so they would stop talking to him completely. At first he didn't know why they would think that, he thought their friendship seemed very platonic. Then he realized some of the things they would do seemed a little too friendly.

That didn't stop him. If he was honest, he didn't care about those girls at school. If there was only one girl in the world and he had to pick her. It would be Y/N. Always Y/N.

-

Saturday came around, Sirius waited all day for 4 o'clock. He didn't like to be late, he pulled up in front of her house a few minutes early so he could greet her parents.

Turning off his car, walking up to the front door. He rings the doorbell that has a little camera on it. A few seconds later, her mother opens the door

"Sirius, how are you, dear?" she asks bringing him in for a hug

'I'm great, Mrs. L/N. How's everything?"

"Everything's fine, Y/N should be ready by now." she told the boy "Y/N, Sirius is here!" she yelled up the stairs

She came down the stairs, a small bag in her hand. 

"Sorry, had to make sure I had everything, are you ready?" she asks Sirius

"Yeah, I'll see you later, Mrs. L/N" 

He and Y/N get in his car, driving to the local movie theater. 

That movie was almost 3 hours long, but that's okay. They didn't mind sitting in a dark room together in silence. It was much later, the sun was starting to set when they headed towards Sirius' house.

His parent's car wasn't in the driveway thankfully, awkward hellos are never fun. They realize they're starving and order take out.

Once it finally arrives, he takes her up to his room. Passing by Regulus' room, she could hear gunfire from some video game.

"Don't mind him, it's like he's married to the game. Hardly comes out the room" Sirius explains opening his bedroom door.

It was relatively clean, only because he knew she was coming over. His walls were lined with movie posters from the 80s and now, some of his favorite vinyls, and photo booth pictures of him and Y/N from various locations.

He made sure his space represented him. The real him. 

They spend the next couple of hours eating and watching random videos on youtube until they got bored of it. Putting on Evermore on as background music as they talked.

Both of them are sitting on the floor, Sirius leaning against the wall, Y/N against his bed

They jumped from topic to topic as the night progressed, getting into the more personal topics. A few weeks ago, Y/N started talking to a boy named Kevin. She seemed to have liked him until she stopped talking about him.

Sirius had been curious about that for a while, he thought it was a good time to ask

"Whatever happened to that Kevin guy? I thought you two were getting serious" he asks

"Oh him? That's long gone" she shrugged, "He said he just didn't feel anything for me" she explained, she didn't show it but she was a little hurt by the boy's words.

"Oh my god, he sucks. Anyone would be more than lucky to have you" He was mad that anyone would treat her like this. "Fuck that guy"

"It's alright, I didn't need him in my life" she wanted to get the topic off her "What about you? Anyone new in your life?"

"Nah" he smiles "I don't want anyone new, honestly"

"What do you mean?" she asks

"I'm happy just having you in my life, sometimes I wish it could always just be you and me" he says in a low voice

"That would be great, honestly. Just us against the world" she agrees

"Y/N?" his voice barely above a whisper, fidgeting with a ring on his hand

"Yeah?" 

He swallowed before replying, "I think I'm in love with you"

"What?" she laughed nervously, he got up and sat next to her

"When I think of my future, having a family and owning a house, you're there right next to me. I've tried to convince myself that it's only because there isn't anyone else in my life" He pauses searching her face for any sort of bad emotion "I know now, it's because I don't want anyone else in my life but you"

Y/N's brain was all over the place, trying to figure out what to say. Sirius has been her rock for so long, she had a small crush on him. She didn't think he would ever reciprocate it

"I don't know what to say" she admits

"That's alright, you don't have to say anything. If you're willing, maybe we could see if this goes anywhere?" 

She reaches down grabbing his hand, lacing her fingers with his. "I think we can make it work" she smiles "After all, we're still getting married at 30 right?" she laughed

"Right Right. A pact is a pact, dear" he smiles

She gives him a small kiss on the cheek, slowly pulling away. Their faces were dangerously close together, warm breath fanning against their skin. Y/N closes the distance. Their lips perfectly fitting each other, just like they were made for each other.

Sirius pulled away, not wanting things to get carried away. Y/N rest her head on his shoulder

"So, what color should our invitations be?"

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

Tag list:

@thebiggestnaturaldisaster @madwcman @de-duchess @timbradfordisbae @mommymilkerfanclub @oatmilkriver @hisparentsgallerryy

join a tag list!

[moonstruckme]

+quick idea!

what abt fuckboy!james/fuckboy!steve who’s so used to the idea of girls wanting to stay after they sleep w him, but with you, he wants to stay. you get up to leave and get your clothes on before he’s making up dumb excuses and whining with his little puppy dog gaze all like “well you don’t have to leave :(“

and ur just there smirking and trying not to laugh before u climb back in bed w his little clingy self

Thanks for requesting <3

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 699 words

Steve looks nice when he’s relaxed like this. There’s no carefully curated uptilt to his lips, and the muscles around his eyes are at ease, finally free of that dumb, smolder-y squint he does. You would've never denied that Steve is handsome, but he actually looks quite pretty when he’s not trying so hard. His face has gone soft against his pillow, limps plump and skin golden in the buttery morning light streaming through his curtains. 

You don’t intend to stick around to see that softness melt away. You’re quiet and efficient in changing into the clothes you’d worn the night before, leaving your shoes off for now so your steps remain soundless on Steve’s bedroom floor. You find some mouthwash under his sink and decide that’ll have to do in lieu of brushing your teeth for now, fixing your hair and double-checking that there’s no makeup leftover under your eyes before exiting the bathroom. 

Steve’s sitting up in bed. 

“Morning,” you greet him. 

“Morning.” He stretches, arching his back until it cracks. He tilts his head as his eyes focus on you. “You’re already dressed?”

“Yup.” You sit down on the edge of the bed to put your shoes on. “Thanks for letting me stay here last night.” 

“No problem.” He’s doing that stupid eye-squint thing again, albeit a more dulled, tired version, as he rakes his gaze showily up your body. It’s work to not roll your eyes. “I hope you had a good time.” 

“I did,” you confirm, finishing the knot on your second shoe. You stand. “Cool if I leave the front door unlocked on my way out, or did you want to follow me and lock it?”

Steve’s eyebrows cinch, and the squint takes on an unfamiliar nature. “You know, I’m not the type of guy to kick girls out first thing in the morning. You can stay for breakfast, if you want.” 

You give him an appeasing smile. “Thanks, but I’ve got food at home.” 

He sits up straighter, covers slipping down to reveal the waistband of his boxers. “Don’t you need a ride or something?”

“I can take the bus.” 

“Well, I could drive you if you’d just give me a second to get up.” 

“Steve.” You don’t bother hiding the bemusement from your expression. “I really don’t mind taking the bus.” 

Steve pauses with one leg out of the bed and one still in, and you let your gaze linger on his naked thigh for just a moment before forcing your eyes back up to his face. It’s as confused as you imagine yours has to be, but you could almost swear the look in his eyes is tinged with hurt. “What’s the rush?” he asks you. “Do you have somewhere to be or something?”

“No,” you answer with a shrug. “There’s just no point in me sticking around here, and I figured I’d get out of your hair.”

“You’re not in my hair.” 

“I’m not?”

“No.” Steve runs a hand through his hair, one side pressed flat from being smushed against his pillow. You sort of want to stick your fingers in there and ruffle it. “It’s not…you’re not bothering me, or anything.” 

You raise your eyebrows at him. “That’s good.” 

“Just—” Steve blows out a breath. He seems puzzled, and he also seems like being puzzled is frustrating for him. This doesn’t feel like the insouciant, self-possessed boy who’d led you into his bed the night before. “You don’t have to rush out. You could stay for a little while.” 

You cock your hip, giving him an appraising look. “And do what?”

“I dunno,” Steve says, and it occurs to you that he really is at a loss. He doesn’t seem used to having to ask for people to stay. “We could have breakfast, if you want. I could make you an omelet.” That squint is back, like this should be enticing to you.

You huff a laugh but set your bag down, heading for the kitchen. “Steve Harrington, I do not believe for one second that you know how to make an omelet. How about you show me where the supplies are, and I’ll cook us something good.”

[leclsrc]

congrats on 2k!! <3 can i have a [five brushes] with mick in some sort of friends to lovers scenario? tysm :*

hold my hand – ms47

genre: fluff, 2k celebration

auds here... sry this was a 4+1 and not a 5! love u

send for the for the five times our muses almost hold hands and the one time they do. 

Maybe it was the chill of November, or the shots of vodka you’d thrown back to celebrate the start of month. 

It’s vague when you try to pinpoint when all this started, this wholly new light on your best friend of your entire life, Mick. It’s hazy at the edges, like it’s still a dubious thing—is it really him? Mick? The one you’d watched fall into the lake when you were twelve? 

Or maybe it was the popcorn Gina had brought in for the both of you to enjoy as a late Halloween snack. Yes, maybe that. 

“It’s butter,” she says, following the wafty scent of popcorn into the living room. “No salt. Sorry. Mick’s trainer’s been on him about dieting.”

“Mmm, I heard,” you say, stuffing a fistful of the snack into your mouth. “You’d think he’s dancing ballet or something.”

“You two just looove talking about me like I’m not here,” pipes up Mick, clicking his tongue. Gina laughs, apologizes in German, and then makes up some excuse to leave you two alone. 

Freddy Krueger is just about to kill an unsuspecting dreamer when you and Mick seek popcorn at the same time, and your fingers brush against each other in the sea of butter. You jolt immediately, a reaction as instinctive as it is foreign. 

“Thought you were on a diet,” you tease lowly, snatching the bowl away.

So maybe that was it. And that was that. Except it really, really, wasn’t.

—

“Code red,” pants Mick breathlessly into the phone, “Red. I’m on my way to your hotel room.”

You and Mick share an emergency code system, modeled after any other, and used in cases where one needs the other’s help badly. There’s code blue (no fare for the bus/train, no gas money), code green (need to ditch this date, no ride home), code orange (creep is following me, fan has been stalking me), and code red, which covers about anything urgent.

Granted, you both created the system at thirteen, but is anyone really complaining when it’s being used at 23?

It also means code red is never used by either of you, reserved for dire situations. Like now. Your door is pushed open and Mick emerges, sweaty and fussed. “I need,” he says, breathless, “um, a—” But he whispers the last word quietly.

“Sorry. What?!”

“A, you know—” he does it again, scandalized.

“Mick, what do you need?”

“I can’t find a private enough space for me to buy a pack,” he says conspiratorially, “of condoms.”

Your chest caves in. “Oh. Why?”

“Eva asked me out.”

“Huh. Eva, Eva?” You dig through your bag. “Paddock engineer’s sister Eva?”

“Yes. Cool?”

“Yeah, yeah. Yeah,” you say, tossing him a rubber and walking closer. “But you look a mess, Mick.”

“Right. Fix me up, would you?” He smiles, raising his arms up.. “Code green.”

“You’re using up all your codes,” you mutter, pinching the hem of his tee and tugging at it to fix the wrinkles on the bottom. Then you move upward, to the collar of his polo, smile and tease him a bit to get his wound-up nerves loosened up a little more. “Good luck.” 

You accidentally fiddle with a button the same time he does, and your fingers stick to each other. Your breath catches a little, but it’s nothing, you tell yourself, avoiding the grip. It’s quiet, your eyes both evading the other’s, your hand scratching absently at your jaw. 

“I should—I should go.”

“No, right, yeah.” You clear your throat, nodding and shooing him away. GOOD LUCK VIRGIN BOY you text him when he’s gone, to alleviate the tension.

Went pretty well! :) He texts back two hours later.

“You sure you’re not up for a date?” Eva asks disappointedly across him.

“Sorry. My mind’s elsewhere,” he says. And that’s that. Except it’s really, really, not.

—

“You two used to dance a lot. Michael and I had a tape of your and Mick’s favorite songs.”

“Gina told me,” you giggle, reviewing a photo album with Corinna. “God, it’s crazy. I can’t even imagine Mick dancing now.”

Of course the declaration leads to Gina finding an old tape player in the stockroom and playing it for everyone to hear, so Mick can put on a show of lanky limbs and awkward dance moves for you, his sister, and his mom. It’s awfully endearing, sickening the way he manages to look cute even while botching the dance.

You and Gina join eventually, to appease Corinna’s pleas. In between one scratchy song and another, you both lose yourself in the music and your fingers almost tangle.

You flex your pinky when it almost locks on his. Sorry, he whispers, low in your ear. Your stomach erupts with thrill and excitement. Your mind’s focused on the rough pad of his finger, the whispered rough apology you haven’t quite accepted.

You hug Gina instead, dancing with her, and that should be that. Except it really, really, isn’t. 

—

“If you keep moving it’ll look ugly.” You readjust your grip on Mick’s pinky, painting an angry red on the nail there as a totem of good luck for the race weekend. You take the chance to do it when you can, the tradition started in Formula 3—paint the pinky nail red.

“You’re taking forever.”

“Fine, good luck DNF-ing again on Sunday.”

You poke your tongue out in a fit of concentration and finally finish dotting over the tiny mistakes. Your eyes glide up, and then stop where Mick’s already meet yours behind a blond curtain of damp post-shower hair.

What? You ask, mind clouded it feels like your voice is disembodied. His gaze is so intense, all blues and soft edges and a smile that reaches his eyes.

You do know the nail lacquer is just placebo, right? I have another good luck charm, and that one actually works.

No it isn’t, and no you don’t, and whatever the charm is—no, it doesn’t.

Except it really, really, does.

—

The fine line between friends and whatever lies behind it—when is it crossed? 

How many times will your fingers brush in a chaste dance? Your eyes flit down to lips, chapped or smooth, like it’s water in the desert? How many times will Mick dance, even if he hates to dance, because he likes the nearness of it? He wakes from dreams of you. He wakes waiting to text you. 

It may have been doubtful before, but now it’s anything but: he’s in love with you. And love is dizzying, it’s blurry and miraculous and could cloud even Einstein’s brain, but Mick at least knows the answer to one of his many questions. 

Four. Four brushes of your knuckles.

“Hey. Code red,” he says into the phone, walking to the lobby elevator.

Seriously, again? What is it this time?

“Just open the door when I get there,” he says, smilingly. “You won’t believe what I’m going to tell you.”

[qiutls]

TNGDH 001

I became a hamster. No wonder I thought I was hearing squeaks last night, it turned out to be like this. Shiny golden fur that doesn’t lose its light even in the dark. Four lovely pink-tinted feet. Long whiskers that twitch whenever I move my cheeks. The black curtains flutter and the light leaks in from the steel cage hitting my eyes. Wait a minute… a steel… cage? A cage?! ― Eek. (Why?) I didn’t just become a hamster. I became a hamster that’s been trapped somewhere. * Thud. Thud. Thud. The cage I was in suddenly shook heavily and my small body rolled around in different directions as the cage kept moving. Who is it?! Who the hell drives like this?! Can’t you drive safely! Thump. My body sways to the corner again and I feel my butt stinging from falling too many times. Then I heard a horse sniffing, it felt thrilling to think that I was going to ride a horse. However, it only felt thrilling for a bit before I thought, It seems like I’m gonna be meeting King Yeomra. King Yeomra is the King of the underworld, hamster thinks he'll die because of the cage being shaken. Where the hell are we going? Why did I become a hamster? And why the hell are we not riding a bus or a train, but riding a horse? This is unfair, I feel so wronged. It’s so absurd that I have to explain, it’s so obvious that I’m a human not a hamster! That’s right I’m human! Bae Soohyun. I’m turning 27 this year. Even though my life was like a thorny path, I am a small mugwort that didn’t give up and kept living. It was a life where it seemed like I kept working day, night, dawn, early in the morning, from Monday to Tuesday to Wednesday to Thursday to Friday to Friday to Friday… But I had no doubt that my hard work would pay off. After years of hard work, it seems the day has finally come. The day when the game I developed became a big hit. I think it’s dead. Dead… That’s right… I died. After the earlier confusion of becoming a hamster has passed, my memories slowly started to come back. The game became popular and it felt like the son I was raising finally became successful. I was finally able to receive the first batch of settlement money thanks to the game. I rushed back home feeling so happy that I could fly. Rattle. The cage suddenly shook as the horse started moving. And I started shaking back and forth, my head felt like it was going to pop and my eyes slowly lost shine as I felt dizzier and dizzier. Are you kidding me?! I kicked the cage a few times hoping for the shaking to stop and then heard a voice not so distant. “I’m sorry.” An unfamiliar, deep yet friendly voice. “Just endure it for a little bit more.” But why did it feel like I’ve heard this line somewhere before. I’m sorry, just endure it for a little bit more. I’ll take you to your new home soon. It suddenly came to mind. While walking at the crossing on my way home, I bumped into a child who seemed anxious while carrying a hamster cage, then a car hit my body. I instinctively felt my death then, all my senses were occupied by the fact that I was hit by a car, and my consciousness started fading away. Twinkle. In front of my eyes something glistened brightly. Wait a minute, what’s that blue thing… [ Hello World! ] I was stunned by the blue system filling up my field of vision. A familiar phrase, the most basic sentence someone with programming knowledge would know. This is the very first phrase you learn to code when you start programming. Then, several windows came up one after another.

[ Connection confirmed. Checking data. ] [ Determining quest. ] [ Calculating miracle value. ] [ Synchronization not complete. Please wait. ] [ Synchronization 0% complete. ] What does this mean? Data? Quest? Synchronization? Since the moment I woke up, this ridiculous situation started and kept going, I didn’t even get the chance to be surprised. While in a daze, the horse which had been rattling the cage non-stop suddenly fell silent and the owner of the voice earlier seemed to get off the horse. The tumultuous movement stopped, but I still felt nauseous. The cold wind blew into the cage, and I shivered. Suddenly, I heard another distant voice. “Your Highness, are you sure you don’t want to throw it out?” Your… Highness? First I rode a horse, now someone’s talking to a royal. These are words that you wouldn’t even hear in 21st century Korea. The term “Your Highness” is only something I heard as a child watching sageuk dramas. Then the deep voice I heard earlier replied. Sageuk is a k-drama genre in which characters wear historical costumes. “It’s a pup that was left alone by the horde, don’t you feel it’s a bit pitiful?” pup - baby hamster / horde - group of baby hamsters “What pity, Your Highness? It’s a child of a demonic beast, when it grows up,it will learn to seduce its prey.” I looked down at my small and round body, what do you mean seduce? Is this body even capable of seducing? In the first place, I’m not even a demonic beast, just a normal hamster, no I mean human! Heh, you’re quite convincing using that serious voice of yours, but you’re obviously joking! The man with the deep voice suddenly cut through my thoughts. “It’s still a child.” “A child of a demonic beast, Your Highness.” “That’s right, a child.” “Your Highness, the most important thing is that it’s a demonic beast!” That… Can you please stop referring to me as a child. It’s weird… While I was grumbling away my frustrations, I heard the man speak, this time anger laced his voice. “Are you questioning my decision?” He spoke words that could normally be taken lightly yet the way he enunciated it word by word felt like a threat, and that there was only one correct answer. “No, Your Highness, I was just momentarily confused since such a thing has never happened before. How dare I question the Grand Prince’s decision.” “Right. So, I’ll take care of it, surely you don’t think I am weaker than a demonic beast that’s barely the size of my fist?” You’re telling me he’s not just a royal, he’s the Grand Prince? “I already sent a man to the estate to prepare it's house, it would be fun to add little ornaments with it.” “Your Highness, you can also raise a real hamster, should I tell the man to prepare another one?” “No. Don’t test my patience.” “…Yes” This person is quite stubborn huh.

Soon the cage started shaking again, this time as the man walked, I could hear his armor rattling and his heavy footsteps rang. Then I felt the air around me get warmer little by little as he marched up the stairs.

It must be winter. Yet I died during summer, now I realize the abnormality of the situation. The man took me to a room and then removed the cloth covering the cage.

“Here we are.” I crouched in a corner and pretended to be asleep desperately. Somehow it felt like the smart thing to do, I couldn’t speak even if I wanted to tell him about my situation. Even if I told him, who’s to say he will not decapitate me for spewing nonsense.

How did my life become like this! Give me back my money! My skills! My future that was unfolding brilliantly! “Tsk. Tsk.” The man clicked his tongue, then he sighed deeply. Hey! I’m the one who’s supposed to be sad at this situation, why are you the one clicking your tongue! Ah, I really hate when people do that… Oh right, I was pretending to be asleep… Sleep… “Does it really not have a human heart?” He murmured.

What human heart? What is he talking about? “Looking at these naive eyes, before it turned into a demonic beast, did it really not have the heart of a human?” N-naive? Which eyes looked naive? Surely it’s not mine? “That’s right, for them there’s no such thing as compassion... Did I stay away from the North for too long? It’s no different from a glacier, it’s freezing. Tsk.” Suddenly, the man opened the cage, stretched out his hand and caught me in his palm.

― Eek! I was so surprised I forgot I was pretending to sleep, as I opened my eyes, I made eye contact with him.

[ 50% synchronized. ]

[ Kyle Jane Minehardt. Great Duke of Blake. ]

The blue system window showed up below his face. Hold on, this name, I’ve heard of it somewhere. Without knowing what was in my head the whole time, he raised me closer to his face. I felt his warm hand full of scars and calluses against my soft fur. Then he rubbed my cheek.

E-excuse me?! “You did well enduring the ride home, cashew nut, you must’ve been bored the whole way.” Bored? The ride was full of shock and horror for me, okay?! Wait, aside from that, can’t you put me down first? What the hell is this situation, why did you suddenly remove me from the cage… Wait! No! Don’t peck me! ― Squeak! Eek!  [ Let me go! ]

“Yes, yes, I know how you feel.” What do you know… You don’t understand a thing! Ack! Why’s he kissing me like he’s dying of love! A kiss… ― Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!  [ You bastard! What kind of dog kisses nonstop like you?! ]

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” ― Squeak! [ Get lost! ] “Did you like being kissed?” I can’t take this anymore!

Wait a minute… This face… I took a moment to observe all his features, his pale yet tough complexion, distinct eyebrows, his hair that’s dark as a raven, his eyes which glowed crimson. A cold and resolute beauty.

― Eek! [ Grand Duke Blake ] I remember. The Duke of the North, Kyle. A supporting actor from the novel, The Heart of Winter, I always read while traveling to and from my company. Not only was he a supporting actor, he’s a supporting actor that dies in the middle of the novel. A man who’s life was miserable from start to finish, yet died with no regrets. The reason why I remember him, and not the protagonists of the story, was that he’s the unluckiest character in the novel. He was unlucky to the extent that I lamented his cold fate many times.

So, I died, and transmigrated into a novel? “Cashew nut?” Cashew nut, my name, I mean the name of the hamster’s body I’m occupying. Kyle stared at me, he seemed to be worried as if something went wrong. His gaze was warm and full of kindness.

Stop looking at me! This bastard, you’re gonna pierce through me with that stare! I’m just worn out… I flicked my head away from his stare, and turned back to glare at him. I tried my hardest to look as mean as possible.

“That look…” It’s scary right?! You’re so afraid you could die, right? I look like a dangerous demon, don’t I?! So put me down!!! You kiss crazed bastard! [ Cold and strict personality. Clean and thorough. Frigid and Merciless. ] “You look so cute, staring at me like that.” Aren’t you the cold blooded Duke of the North?! Let go of me! What do you mean cold and strict?! What merciless? ― Squeak! [ Let go! ]

Yet the Duke didn’t let me down for a long time and I had to put up with the crazy kisses the he bestowed.

Help me, please! Save this hamster!

novel ⠀✿⠀ next

[bakery-anon]

✧. ˚Calcu-Hell➶˚

warnings. fem reader, reader is stressed man (math does that to a person), maybe overuse of the name pretty girl but who can really blame me?, be nice <3

words. 593

a/n: this is not for me to be perceivable- this is for molly bcs she said she wanted an Akaashi fic and I had time to kill on my bus ride home <3 I hope you like it Molly <33333 (no pressure if you don't though, in which case kindly ignore this post lol)

The minute Akaashi made his way through the threshold of your apartment he knew something was wrong. The lights in the living room were off, flicking the lights on he blinked his eyes a few times to adjust. His eyes scanned the room, looking for your blanket clad form on the couch but not seeing it there, your blanket still folded neatly over the arm. His keys clink as they drop into the ceramic bowl, one side chipped from where you knocked it off the table a few months ago. 

He made his way through the silent house, feet barely making sound over the wooden floors. Quickly making his way to the office door he knocked lightly and opened the door just enough to peek his head in. He smiled slightly as he saw you hunched over the desk and furiously scribbling on a piece of paper. 

He shuts the door silently behind him, you must not have heard him over the stress of getting the paper done. He could see your furrowed brows and how your teeth were worrying at your lip. His fingers tap your shoulder and he chuckles lightly as your figure jumps. “Keiji,” your voice is tired as your head turns to face him. 

“Hello pretty girl, what’s worrying your pretty head huh?” He bends down so he’s leaning over the chair and can see the abused paper: equations, eraser marks, and even a small tear at the top left corner are present with just how long you’ve been working on it. His hand rubs gentle circles on your back as you sigh and lean into the touch. 

“I feel like I’m in Calcu-hell. Why did I sign up for this class again?” Your hand flies up and pinches the bridge of your nose as you groan. Akaashi lets out another soft laugh and leans towards you to kiss your forehead. 

“Because you’re smart,” you go to cut him off but he grabs hold of your hand and tilts his head as he gives you a knowing look. “You’re so smart, and funny, and I love the way your face lights up when you get a question that was stumping you right. You signed up for the class because you wanted to prove to yourself that you were smart.” You frown at him and roll your eyes. He lightly flicks your forehead. 

“I don’t have to prove myself to anyone.” 

“I know that pretty girl. You’re very good at math, I know that.” He nods his head and he can see the scowl on your face exaggerate, he knows you’re forcing yourself not to smile at this point. “You’re very good at Calculus and everything you set your mind to. I love you even if you are stubborn as a rusty door.”

You grumble and he smiles. “It’s not fair. I’m just trying to be upset over calculus and you have to come in here and be all sweet. How dare you.” Your eyes narrow at him and your arms cross. “How unreasonable of you.”

“Yes, I know. It’s very unreasonable of me.” He grabs the extra chair and sits down next to you. His hold reaches for yours again and even though you’re pretending to be mad you lock your fingers together. “Now, what are we working on?” He adjusts his glasses on his face and looks over your shoulder.

I guess Calculus isn’t so bad if you have a boyfriend who loves you holding your hand while you lose your mind. You’ll just lose your minds together.

taglist. @hiraethwa @akaakeis @mollyrolls

guys if this was bad don't tell me lol, this was more writing exercise than like fic

[thebunnybabyblog]

Moony's Books and Scrolls (1 of ?) Remus bookshop au

Summery: Fresh out of Hogwarts your job prospects and living arrangements were both not meeting standards. You find yourself in front of a worn down, almost abandonded building, could this place solve all your woes or will this rip open past wounds?

Info: Fluff with future smut so please 18+ only This is an au! The canon story does not apply here!

Word count: 2400

Life at Hogwarts had came and went in what seemed to be a flash of lightning. The time spent behind those castle walls will fill your mind with fond memories for life, but a few months after graduation, it was time to get the hell out of your parents house and be an adult on your own. It wasn’t like you didn’t love your family but you really missed the “freedom” Hogwarts awarded you. 

It had been nice to loaf around for a few months but the lack of privacy was getting to you. When you were bombarded by your siblings in the bathroom, exposing your fresh out of the shower body to the people in the living room that had come over to visit your mother, you knew it was time to go. You started your search with lots of newly graduated hope but soon the shock of the real world set in. It's not that you were bad at Hogwarts, you got okay grades, but you spent a lot of time reading things that were not assigned. To put it lightly, every job you interviewed for favored someone else over you. Your high standards waivered and soon you were slugging through ads for low paying jobs just to get anything at all. 

There was one job that you kept seeing over and over though, never seeming to fill the position it was asking. The listing read as follows:

Moony’s Books and Scrolls

In need of a shop assistant to help organize, catalog and care

for magical and non-magical books and scrolls.

There is a room available to anyone willing to accept this position.

Only need to pay for your utilities, rent is included in the position.

Pay is fair and we also offer a 50% employee discount.

Location: 310 Meadows Lane 

“Oh my god? A room and a 50% discount on books? I should have read this listing sooner!” you exclaimed. Gripping the newspaper tightly in your hands, you sat and thought for a moment. For how things had been going, this seemed like the solution to all of your problems. You glanced up at the clock on the wall beside you, 4:15pm. If you left now you could make it over there before they closed. 

Gathering your things and some money for the bus, you made your way out the door, hardly able to yell, “Leaving about a job! I won't be home for dinner! Love you bye!” The door slammed loudly behind you as you dashed down the drrive.

You were excited the whole bus ride over there. Filled with hope and desperation, you thought how cute your life could be. Living in a sweet little bookstore, reading all the time, saving so much money, living a simple life. No more mess and chaos of your siblings running around going crazy messing with your things. Finally some peace and quiet.  Your daydreams were cut short when the bus driver announced your stop was coming up. “NEXT STOP MEADOW LANE” he yelled over the p.a. Gathering your bag, you headed off the bus. 

Walking up and down the street as the evening sun began to set, you wondered if this was a scam. “Where the hell is this building?” you pondered. “310 Meadow Lane,” you repeated over and over. The crumpled newspaper held tightly in your hands, you looked as if you were a crazy person with a treasure map. You finally stopped in front of a building you had passed over and over. “This can’t be it?” you said in confusion. 

Looking back at the wrinkled paper and back at the building again, you finally saw what seemed to be where numbers used to live above the door but were now just faded outlines. The once deep blue first floor and door were now faded and chipping exposing the wood underneath. The once beautiful picture window that you were sure held wondrous displays was completely filled in with stacked books, hardly able to let the soft light of the room inside peek through the thin cracks. The rest of the building above was brick and looked normal besides a leaky AC unit sticking out one of the right windows. “Was the shop owner's room or the potential employee’s?” 

You hesitated, “If I get kidnapped and sent off to some dungeon my parents are gonna be so pissed.”  Almost turning on your heels to head back to the bus, the thought of so much wasted bus fare and time made you stop. You reached for the door knob and turned it slowly. Halfway through the door you yelled out, “Ummm hello?” 

Your eyes had nowhere to rest. There were things everywhere and on everything, shelves filled with disorganized books, stack after stack piled to the ceiling and papers scattered all over the floor. Not to mention the overcrowding of furniture and tables that were also covered in books. You couldn’t even tell where the register was in all this mess, if you could  even find something to buy. 

With no response you let out a louder “Hello? Is anyone here?” Instead of the response you heard an “Oh shit!” and the sound of a tidal wave of books falling over on the second floor. The staircase to the left soon had books and papers tumbling down like an avalanche on the side of a mountain. You were stuck in shock as you watched all the dust begin to settle and the store go from chaos to quiet in a few moments. The silence and shock were broken when you heard a deep groan from above you. 

Your feet moved before your mind could tell you to go. You ran up the stairs dodging and weaving the fallen debris and books on the steps. You didn’t need to think where to look because right in the center of the upstairs room was a huge pile of books that were assumed to be, just moments ago, tall stacks. “Oh my god! Are you okay?” you yelled out to the pile. “I’ve been better, love, but I'm okay. Just Leviosa this off me please, I can’t move,” he called back. 

You reached for your back pocket but were met with nothing. In your rush to get out the door, you left your wand on your bedside table. “Fuck!” you yelled out. Running over to the pile and getting down on your knees, you slung book after book off of this mystery man. “I'm so sorry! I forgot my wand rushing over here! But I'll get you out!” Soon a hand is revealed ,then his midriff exposing his scarred stomach, and finally the book that revealed who was trapped underneath.

“Oh god!” you yelled out. “No it's Remus I’m afraid. Nice to meet you” he said with a pained laugh. “Wait I know you don’t I?” he asked as he flung himself up to a seated position. The sudden jump forward made you fall back onto your butt in a huff. He grabbed his head in pain with the quick movement up. “Damn I really did a number on myself, er?” he said in a hushed, embarrassed laugh, clearly jumbled up from the tumble. 

“Let me look!” you yelled a little louder than you meant and cupped his face in your palms. You checked him over, not realizing you could feel the soft scratch of stubble against your skin. He almost protested to the manhandling but as he looked up to the sweet, concerned expression plastered across your face, he couldn’t help but smirk. 

To clear any more silent embarrassment he asked “So what's your prognosis doctor? Shall I live to see another day?” You released his cheeks and started shifting through his soft ginger hair. “I don’t see any blood so I think you're okay? You do have a good lump up here though,” you said in a matter-of-fact tone. It wasn’t until the silence of your fingers running through his hair had you realized just what you were doing. Embarrassed, your hands shot back to your lap and your fingers nervously intertwined with one another. 

A blush set wide across your face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to manhandle you like that.” “No it's quite alright, love, I’m glad you were here to rescue me.” he said, trying to ease your embarrassment. “I’ve made a mess in here, er?” “Just here?” you said quickly. You immediately wanted to punch yourself in the face. He couldn't help but laugh at your very obvious observation. “I really didn’t mean to say that!” you tried to explain but he just waved his hand while laughing. “No no, it's alright! This place is a mess and has been for a while. I’ve actually been in search of someone to help me sort this place out.” “Oh, well, about that.” You pulled out the crumpled bit of newspaper and showed the ad to him. “That's why I’m here.” 

He watched your hands as you presented the ad as if you were presenting your golden ticket to the factory. Eyes trailing up your arm and back to yours, he was silent for a moment and it made you nervous. “Oh God he definitely remembers me,” you thought to yourself. A few years into your time at Hogwarts, you made a mortifying embarrassing confession to him. You would help out in the library in your free time, since you spent so much time reading there and you knew the place like the back of your hand. Whenever you were there, you'd see Remus and his friends, Remus more than the others, and you developed a crush on him. 

“You’re hired,” he said bluntly. You were taken aback by the sudden declaration and not a large from the pit of his stomach. “What?” you replied, deadpan. “I have been begging and pleading for someone to come help me take on this insanity and I've had people run from this place once they get past the front door. The fact that you have even made it upstairs is enough for me.”  You looked at him with blank, wide eyes. Not even interviewed, sitting in a disaster zone and you didn’t even know if he knew who you were. “Are you sure?” you asked, “You haven’t even asked anything about me! You don’t even know my name yet.” Your words came out fast and jumbled. You weren’t even sure if he understood you. “Well of course I know your name... it's y/n,” he said in a confused and almost hurt tone. “We used to hang out in the library all the time. Don’t you remember?” 

Your brain played your most embarrassing moment in your mind as soon as that exited his lip. In a moment of unthinking on the final day you'd see him in the library ever, you stopped him on his way out and blurted out what your fifth year brain thought was a good idea. Unlike how it plays out in silly romance novels, he in fact, did not reciprocate your grand feelings or even get a chance to. As soon as your confession left your mouth, Sirius and James burst through the doors, having heard the whole thing, and laughed and drug Remus out with them. He was never even given the chance to say “No, I’m sorry, but I'm flattered,” or a “Ew, no way in hell.” You still laid up at night and it passed through your mind and makes your skin feel icky. He shifted awkwardly on the floor and stood up. 

You watched as he arose still planted on the ground. He grew a few extra inches after he left Hogwarts. He was tall as a teen, but now, almost in his mid-20s, he towered over you. You stared for a moment as he extended his hand down to you. With a slight flex of his hand, you snapped out of your trance and slowly placed yours in his. 

“Well of course I remember you Remus...” you said meekly, “I just wasn’t sure you really remembered me.” To you, you were just the little annoying underclassman that floated behind him like pepe le pew floating behind penelope but he considered the time in the library hanging out? He guided you up from your seated position. You were merely inches from him. 

Looking up to his soft, tired eyes and growing lump on the top of his forehead, you couldn’t help but release a little laugh at his expense. You covered your mouth with your hand and he just looked at you in a sense of amusement. “I’m sorry, I really don't mean to laugh, especially after you just offered me a job, but you have a comically large knot on your head,” you said, pointing at the lump that used to be much smaller looking on the ground.  

He only laughed in response and for a moment it didn’t feel so awkward for you, both lost in a silly moment together. As the laughter came to an end you asked if he had any  Wiggenweld potion somewhere. “Ahh, I think I actually do in the bathroom upstairs.” He turned to his left and began to walk for the door that you assumed led to the apartment upstairs. 

He stopped before he reached the door and turned back to you, “I can show you your room as well.” He played with the sleeve of his sweater before adding, “I mean, if you actually want the job.” It wasn’t until that moment did you realize not only would you have to work with him, but now he was your roommate. Something in you screamed this was a bad idea but the part of your brain that was goo called the shots. There was no way you were not taking on this challenge. “I’d love to see it,” you replied back to him with a warm smile. Butterflies filled your stomach as you watched his face change. He radiated warmth across the room, like the way warm autumn sun filled a room in the afternoon. It felt as if you floated across the room, almost forgetting you were walking through a war zone. You had a feeling the back-breaking work that was soon to come would be the death of you, but finally getting to see what Remus Lupin looked like with bed head was worth whatever was about to come your way.