#yes I am emotional today ; so that is playing a part in it

[zoomingupthathilla]

rewatching the fosters for the 1200th time , & crying like a baby

[freedomfireflies]

Insufferable You*

Summary: The third part to Infinite You*

The one where Harry is still in an open relationship with your best friend, so maybe it's time to remind him what he's missing.

Word Count: 7.3k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, edging, spanking, brief exhibitionism, sir kink, masturbation, brief choking

“Kitten…what are you doing?”

Your whimpers are airy. Light. A string of breathless pleas woven between the soft sounds of your fingers fucking into your cunt. And you can’t answer his question. Can’t find the strength to pull yourself away from the pleasure between your thighs.

“Kitten,” he asks again and it’s firm. “Talk to me.”

He’s panting through his request and the sound—the image in your head of the way he must look, fucking his fist to the melody of your voice almost hurts you.

“I’m…I’m playing with my clit,” you answer. He groans. “Just like you do.”

“Just like me, hm?” He curses on his end of the phone and your legs shake. “How?”

“M’pinching it,” you tell him. “And pulling it. The way you like.”

His noises are louder. Needier. He must like the image in his head, too. “God, I’d give anything to see it, baby. Give fucking anything to watch you touch yourself for me.”

Anything. Anything. You shiver. “Yeah? You’d watch me?”

“Mhm.” He’s getting closer and you don’t want this to end. “Sit there on my knees and take every drop in my mouth when you’re done.”

Your hips buck up and your fingers sink deeper. He ruins you even when he’s not here. “I know,” you whisper. Your eyes squeeze shut. “And I’d let you.”

He makes a sound that might be a laugh but could be a strained moan. You aren’t sure. But you don’t really care because it’s beautiful, no matter what it is. “Kitten,” he exhales and your insides twist. “I need you to cum for me, okay? I need to hear you. God, I need to fucking hear you, baby, let me. Come on—”

There’s something in the way he speaks. Like he’s just woken up. Rough and low and thick. He sounds like sex and you miss hearing it in person. But you were desperate—you had to call him. You had to hear him talk you through this moment and you’re so glad you did.

When you cum, it’s everything. Perhaps not as satisfying as when it’s with him, but still euphoric. And your whimpers of pleasure are what send him over the edge.

The phone fills with the sounds of your ecstasy and you wish you could record the way he moans your name. You wish you could bottle this feeling and get drunk on the way he adores you. 

Instead, you indulge in the few moments you have with him. Because you know they won’t last much longer.

“That was good,” you tell him breathlessly and he chuckles. “How are you so good at that? Even over the phone?”

“Could ask you the same thing. Now I’ve got a sticky hand and nobody to clean it up.”

You pout. “Stop, don’t tell me that. It’s not fair.”

He laughs again. “Sorry, Kitten. Couldn’t help it. You all right? You feel better?”

“I do. Thank you for letting me call you.”

“Always.”

Your heart skips. “So…what are you up to today?”

There’s a pause. A long pause and you know what he’s going to say even before he says it. “Rebecca and I are running some errands.”

“Oh.” Oh. Your throat goes dry. “Right…sorry, I’m…you probably need to go, don’t you?”

Another pause. “In a bit,” he says. “After I make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you say far too quickly. And far too obviously forced. “Yeah, no, I’m…duh. Obviously I’m okay now. After…yeah. Okay, sorry. You can…I’ll talk to you later—"

“Kitten.”

You stop. “What? I’m…I’m letting you go—”

“Don’t. I want to talk to you a little longer.”

“But you’re busy—”

“It can wait.”

Swallowing, you whisper, “Harry, I’m…I’m just saying—”

“So am I.” He’s firm again. “Don’t do that. Don’t send me away because of her. We can talk. I promise.”

Your eyes squeeze shut. You force the tears back. Why does orgasming make you so emotional? “I know, I just…she’s there, isn’t she?”

Another beat. “Not in the room.”

“But she’s there. In the apartment. Near you.”

“Yes.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “See, that’s…that’s why I’m letting you go. So you can be with her. Okay? I’ll talk to you later—”

“Kitten.”

“Harry.” You huff if only to make yourself sound stronger than you feel. “I’m okay. You can go.”

“You’re not okay. You’re sad.”

“I’m…no, I’m not sad, I’m just…I’m tired. I came really hard.”

“I know you.”

“Well…you don’t know me that well. Cause I’m fine.”

“Baby—”

“Just go,” you insist. “I promise I’m okay as long as you are. I shouldn’t have called so early anyway, that was…I’m sorry. That was my mistake—”

“You can call when she’s here, you know that—”

“But I don’t want to.”

Another long pause that feels like an eternity. “Okay,” he finally murmurs and you pull the phone away to take in a shaky breath. “But I want your honesty. Okay?”

“Sure.”

“Are you really okay?”

Truthfully, you don’t know. “Yeah, I’m fine. Swear. Thanks for helping me. I’ll talk to you later?”

“You will,” he agrees. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Rebecca’s dinner.”

Fuck. You forgot. “Oh…right—”

“You’ll be there. Right?”

It doesn’t really feel like you have a choice. “I…I don’t know yet, I might be busy—”

“You’re not.”

“You don’t know that. I could have plans.”

“You do. With us.”

Us. Your nose scrunches. “I mean other plans—”

“You don’t.”

“I might—”

“You don’t. If you did, I’d know.”

“Well, that’s presumptuous.”

“Maybe, but it’s true. Because you talk to me. When I ask you a question, you answer honestly. You’re a good girl. I know you.”

Your chest feels tight again. “Well, I don’t tell you everything.”

“You should.”

“You don’t tell me.”

“Because you don’t ask.”

He’s right. You never ask him anything personal because honestly, you’re afraid of what he’ll say.

“Fine,” you agree. “I’ll be there. Are we done?”

He waits a moment before saying, “We’re not done. We’ll discuss this later. But for right now, yes.”

And even if he sounds a bit strict, you can’t help smiling. “Yes, Sir.”

“Mm. That’s my girl. Take it easy today, all right?”

“I will.”

“Good. See you tomorrow, Kitten.”

“Goodbye, Sir.”

He chuckles and you hang up and even despite everything else…you can’t help but grin.

“Oh, my god. He does. Every time. He’s got such a weird thing with feet.”

You laugh. “It wasn’t so bad at first. But then he got a little too comfortable—”

“No, he does that. He really does.” Rebecca smirks as she throws the freshly chopped carrots into her pot. “And it started out cute, but now…”

You both glance into the living room where Harry is relaxing on the sofa. He’s smiling as he watches the two of you work on the food and even if he can’t hear you, he must know you’re talking about him.

“It’s still cute,” you argue in his defense. “Gross…but cute.”

She laughs. “Yeah, I guess he can be cute when he wants to be.”

You grin together and this feels good. You’ve missed your friend. You’ve missed having someone to laugh with, gossip with. And maybe it was strange at first, to come into their apartment and talk to your best friend about sleeping with her boyfriend.

But after a minute or two, you settled right back into the familiar rhythm of your friendship. And it almost felt…normal. 

“Has he done the thing where his left leg starts to shake when he gets overstimulated?” she asks and you nearly snort. 

“Oh, my god. Yes. The other day. I thought he was having a heart attack.”

“It’s the funniest thing. It just started, too. Couple years ago. He swears it doesn’t but like…I can see it.”

“It’s quite the tell,” you agree and you can’t help the way your eyes drift back to where he’s lounging on the sofa.

He notices and smirks at you.

“What?” you call.

He shrugs. “Nothing. You girls are cute, that’s all.”

“Bite me,” Rebecca says and he chuckles. “We’re not cute. We’re hot.”

“Absolutely,” he agrees. He leans forward. “Let me guess. You’re telling her about the leg thing?”

“Yup. And I was right,” she says smugly. “She sees it, too.”

His eyes roll but he smiles at you. “It’s not that bad—”

“No, it is,” she argues. “You look like a dog. A very cute dog, but still.”

He laughs a little louder and you’re almost jealous of their dynamic. A dynamic you’ve been witness to for almost five years. And it’s never made you jealous before.

But now…

She puts the soup on simmer and grabs your hand to lead you to the living room. “I told you we were gonna gossip about you,” she reminds him. “All good things, don’t worry.”

“I’m sure.” He smiles at you both as you take a seat on the sofa. She flops down right beside him while you cautiously sit on the other end. Exactly where you’d been that first day you agreed to this arrangement. “This is nice,” he says.

She hums. “Yeah, it feels like old times.” She glances toward you. “And it’s not weird…is it? I mean, you feel okay?”

Feeling a little hot under the spotlight, you swallow and force a quick shake of your head. “No, this is…it’s good. This is fun.”

However, she knows you better than anyone and her brows pull together as she studies you. “Do you have any questions? Or anything we can clear up?”

“Uh…I don’t know.” Truthfully, you don’t want to ask. “Is it…is it weird for you guys?”

They both shake their heads, almost as if in sync, and you resist the urge to scrunch your nose.

“Do you…have any regrets?”

“No,” she says and Harry agrees. “None. Do you?”

“No,” you echo. “No, I just…I don’t know. This still kind of feels like cheating.”

They exchange a glance and your heart skips. You’re even jealous of the way they look at each other.

“Rebecca and I have always agreed that whatever the other decides to do is their business,” Harry says. “As long as we communicate, there's freedom there. No judgment, no expectations, no regret.”

“And no jealousy,” she adds, offering you a soft smile. “Or shame. Or anything like that.”

You nod and pick at a loose string on your jeans. “And are you two…I mean do you still…”

“No,” she assures you and you’re thankful she figured out what you meant. “No, we haven’t in a few weeks.”

“Oh…because of me?”

She shakes her head while Harry says, “Not entirely. Most of it is for safety reasons. Keeping things clean and respectful. But it’s also one of our rules.”

“Rules?”

“We have a few rules we like to follow,” she explains. “It just makes it easier. Sometimes it can be tricky and this helps keep us on the same page.”

“And no sex is one of them?”

“Kind of. We don’t sleep together if one of us is seeing someone else. Well, no penetration, anyway.”

You hate the way your stomach sinks. “Oh. And…do you date other people…a lot?”

He looks over at her and she thinks. “Not…really?” she says. “I don’t think, anyway.”

“Jack was the last guy you were with, right?” Harry asks and she snaps her fingers.

“Jack. Right. Yeah. He was cute. And then yours was…Angie? I think?”

He nods. “Last year.”

“She was nice.”

“She was…sure. Yeah. She was nice.”

Rebecca laughs and he grins proudly, happy to have made her laugh. Your nose scrunches.

“She wasn’t that bad,” Rebecca argues. “She was just put in a weird position.”

“Literally and figuratively.”

She smacks his arm playfully and he pinches her thigh. You want to look away. 

“Either way,” she finally says, “we don’t very often. And I don’t think of it as cheating. Especially not with you. Because I know he’s a good partner and I know that you deserve someone as kind as he is.” 

He gives her a grateful grin before returning his attention to you. “We can stop if you want. Because I agree with Bex. I wouldn’t want to lose you as my friend and if you feel pressured or unsure—”

“I don’t,” you nearly rush to argue. “No, I don’t, I…I’m just really struggling with the dynamics of it. I guess.”

“Trust me, I get it,” she says gently. “It was a bit of a learning curve for us, too. Harry can get incredibly jealous.”

You’re tempted to tell her that you already know but you watch his reaction instead.

His eyes roll but then his stare returns to you and he winks, as though he’s recalling the same memory you are. 

It makes your skin feel warm.

“Oop, hold on. I gotta check the soup,” Rebecca suddenly exclaims before jumping off the sofa to rush back to the kitchen.

And now left alone together, your attention is drawn back to the tall, handsome man you can already feel staring at you.

“Any more questions?” he asks softly. He leans forward and places his elbows on his knees and somehow, even that makes you feel safer. 

“Just one,” you murmur and he nods. “Does this mean you and I are…dating? Or are we just fucking until I can find somebody else?”

There’s a slight edge in your voice that you hadn’t meant to be there, but he picks up on it instantly.

“Are you looking for somebody else?” he asks.

“Not really. But this whole thing started because you both felt bad for me,” you remind him. “And it’s been a lot of fun. Honestly. But you are kind of on loan. I just…I’m not sure what this makes our situation. If we’re just fucking…or more.”

He takes a moment to think about his answer, eyes flicking between yours almost as though studying you. “Would you like there to be more?”

You bite back huff. He’s very good at redirecting. “I don’t know. Would you?”

“I think more can get complicated.”

Your feel your expression fall. “Right.”

“And I don’t want to lose you from my life for good,” he continues. “You know that. Neither of us want to lose you—”

“Right, yeah. It’s fine. Forget I asked.”

He’s frowning now. “Kitten, don’t do that—”

“No, really,” you argue. “It’s fine. You’re right. Let’s just keep it like this until I can find somebody else.”

The frown turns into a glare. “Kitten—”

“Okay, soup is almost done,” Rebecca announces as she returns. This time she sits next to you and throws an arm around your shoulder. “What did I miss?”

The tension is palpable. You speak first. “I was just telling Harry that I might not need his services much longer.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows raise while Harry’s scowl deepens.

“Oh?” she asks.

You nod. “Well, seeing as we don’t want to do anything to ruin the friendship…I thought I’d give Ethan a call.”

It’s mean and perhaps a bit cruel, but you can’t help yourself. You aren’t trying to hurt him. Because he is right. And don’t want to lose him for good, either, and all this evening has truly done is prove how close he and Rebecca actually are.

You’ll never be able to compete with five years of love and affection. And maybe you don’t want to.

Maybe it’s time to move on.

“Ethan?” Harry repeats while Rebecca perks up.

“Yes,” she squeals excitedly. “Oh, I was hoping you would. He’s so nice, I think you guys would be perfect together.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a pointed look at Harry. “I think so, too.”

He knows what you’re doing. You can tell. And he’s oddly calm as he leans against the cushions and tosses his arms over the back of the couch. “And who the fuck is this Ethan?”

“Guy from my work,” you answer, equally as calm. “Nice. He’s been asking me out for a while.”

“A while.”

“Yeah, a while.”

His brows furrow. “So why do you want to go out with him now?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “He was never really my type before but we’ve gotten closer recently. I think it’s only fair I give him a real chance.”

“Really?” He’s curious. Maybe skeptical. “Now?”

You nod. “That way the three of us can preserve our friendship. Since that is the most important thing.”

“Well, I think it’s a great idea,” Rebecca tells you and hugs you to her side. “You’ll have to let us know how it goes.”

You grin and it’s all teeth. “I will.”

Dinner is nice. Tense but nice. You and Harry spend a majority of the meal exchanging icy glances and keeping to yourselves, leaving Rebecca to do most of the conversing.

And she doesn’t seem to notice. That or she merely pretends not to. She catches you up on some drama at work. Teases Harry about his sleep talking. Says she’s planning to visit her parents in a few weeks and then gives you the recipe for the soup.

And you and Harry nod politely, despite the unspoken rage from your ends of the table.

When dinner is finished, Harry offers to clean up and do the dishes. She kisses him on the cheek gratefully and says she’s gonna go take a quick shower since she’s got an early day tomorrow. She tells you that you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like and then she hugs you tightly and whispers, “I’m so glad we’re still friends.”

You hug her back and agree.

The moment she’s gone, Harry sets down his sponge and turns to you. “Come here.”

You hesitate by the front door, itching to escape. But he’s firm as he watches you from the sink, eyebrow raised and jaw clenched, leaving you no choice but to listen.

“Kitten,” he repeats. Lower. Sterner. “Come. Here.”

You take a tentative step toward him. “What?”

“We need to talk.”

“Do we?”

“Kitten.”

You huff and throw your purse back down. “I really don’t think we need to—”

“I don’t care what you think. I’m telling you that we’re gonna have a chat and you’re gonna come in here like a good fucking girl and talk to me.”

This is how he gets you. This is how he pulls your strings and turns you around until you obediently join him in the kitchen. Like a good fucking girl.

Satisfied, he leans back against the counter. “Now. What’s this Ethan shit you pulled?”

“It’s not shit, it’s real,” you huff. “He really did ask me out and I really am going to say yes.”

“But you haven’t yet.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I told you. He wasn’t my type—”

“No, I want the real answer.”

You frown. “That is the real answer—”

“No,” he repeats. “It’s not. And you know it.”

You cross your arms and look down at your shoes. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. He wasn’t my type but now he is.”

The argument lulls and the small kitchen falls silent. You hear him sigh and it almost hurts to hear how heavy his disappointment hangs.

But a moment later, he’s slipping his fingers beneath your chin and raising your eyes to his. They’re soft. Serene. Filled with everything he can’t seem to find the words to say and you hate how quickly your body begins to crave him.

“You aren’t being honest with me, baby,” he murmurs. Your lashes flutter. “You aren’t communicating with me. And I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say and he sighs like he knows this is a lie. “Really, I just…I know myself. If I don’t put a bit of distance between us…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to breathe on my own.”

This makes him sad and it hurts you to know you’ve made him sad. “Kitten,” he whispers. He steps closer until his chest is brushing against yours. “If I’m doing something wrong—”

“You’re not. That’s the problem.” You swallow and he brushes his thumb along your jaw. “You’re doing everything right and I’m worried I’m gonna want you in ways that I shouldn’t.”

“Do you not want to want me?”

“Not…like that,” you admit. “Not when you’re still hers.”

He frowns. “I told you, you don’t have to worry about anyone else—”

“But I do. Because at the end of the day, you’re still her Harry. You’re on loan to me until one of you decides you shouldn’t be anymore—”

“Kitten—”

“And I can’t be with you in any way but physically. You said so yourself. More would get complicated and even if you wanted to be with me…I don’t think I could share you.”

 He considers this. A long moment passes. “So you’re punishing me,” he says. “You’re going out with this Ethan guy to prove that you don’t need me.”

“What? No.” You lean back but he doesn’t let go of your chin. “I mean…okay, maybe I wanted to piss you off a little but I really do think I need to be with someone else in order to truly move on. I’m not punishing you. I’m…obeying you. If anything.”

He scoffs. “If you really wanted to obey me, you would have talked to me about what you were feeling.”

“I tried. You said more would get complicated.”

“It could. There’s always that risk. But I never said it wouldn’t be worth it.”

“So…what? You’d date me?”

“Of course.”

The answer is quick and it surprises you but it doesn’t seem to surprise him.

You blink. “You…really? You would date me? Like…officially?”

“I would.”

“And…what about Rebecca?”

“What about her?”

“You’d…you’d still be with her? Right? Even if we were together?”

He seems to know what you’re implying and sighs quietly. “Yes. I would.”

“And even if you weren’t…I’m assuming you would still want to be in an open relationship with me?”

Another pause. “Probably,” he admits, and even if you knew it was coming, you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes. “That’s just the agreement I’ve always felt most comfortable with—”

“And that’s fine. I get it,” you assure him. You sniffle and he seems to wilt. “Really. I just…like I said, I don’t do well with sharing and if…if all we’re doing is fucking, I might as well just find somebody else, right? So that way the three of us can stay friends. And it doesn’t have to get weird.”

“I understand,” he says and you know he does. “I do, Kitten. And I would never keep you in a relationship you’re not comfortable in.” A beat. “But I can’t say that I like the idea of you going out with this guy.”

You smile. Gently. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

He looks down at you and takes your cheek in his hand. “You’re my girl,” he says. “No matter what. If you’re with me or not with me. You’re my fucking girl. And he doesn’t deserve even a second of your time.”

You fight a large grin and cling to his shirt. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not? It’s true.”

“Because.” You play with his buttons. “You don’t get to be jealous when you’re still with her.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m gonna like seeing you with someone else.”

You pout. “That’s not fair, Harry.”

“I know.” He brings his lips to yours. They hover—close—but never make contact. “I can’t help it. Can’t ever seem to help it when it comes to you.”

You want to push up and take his kiss, but he teases you just a little longer. “Harry—”

“Do you know that, Kitten?” His hands drop to your waist and he squeezes. Even though Rebecca is only two rooms away. Even though you can hear her humming in the bath. Even though he can never be yours. “Do you know how much I think about you?”

You swallow. Thick.

“How I think about the way you asked me to take care of you…” He ghosts his mouth down your neck. “The way you begged me to be rough….to spank you. Choke you. Degrade you.”

His voice is a sin and your eyes fall shut.

“Do you want me to degrade you, baby?” His fingers slip beneath your shirt. “Do you want me to pull you on my lap and spank you until you’re crying?”

The image in your head is somehow even better than his taunting. Your knees about buckle. “Harry…”

“You can find somebody else if you want to,” he whispers. “But do you really think they’ll be able to care of you the way I do? The way you want? The way you deserve?” 

His kisses find your chest while his knee slots between your thighs.

“I know how naughty you really are, baby girl,” he says and it’s over. “He will never know.” 

You grab his hair and he grabs your hips and you’re on the counter before you can even whisper his name. He pushes the hem of your dress up and guides your legs apart. He makes a home there, finger curling around the crotch of your panties in order to get a taste and it’s magic. Always.

And he does this to you only a few hundred feet away from where his girlfriend is innocently taking a shower. He does this, knowing she could walk out and see. He does this and you let him do this because there is no world in which you stop him.

“Harry,” you say—whimper—and he hums. His tongue licks up your cunt and your head drops back. “Har—wait—”

He doesn’t. He holds your thighs beside his cheeks and he sucks on your clit until you begin to squirm. “You promised to stay for dessert,” he says. “This is my dessert.”

The sounds are loud and beautiful and his curls feel good in your hands. You feel good in his.

Things fall to the ground. Bowls, pots, containers. He grins. He likes this, the danger. And he knows you like it, too. Because if you really wanted him to stop, he would. 

But you don’t. And you yank him closer to your pussy as though this will be the last time he ever gets a taste.

And deep down, you wonder if it is.

Either way, you enjoy his tongue and his lips and the tip of his nose that nudges your clit so expertly. You wonder how it’s possible to be so addicted to a man you’re not even with. A man that only recently started fucking you and a man that you’ve only ever considered a friend.

Part of you wants to get caught. Part of you wants things to implode. To believe that he’s doing this because he wants her to find out. Because what would happen if she saw? What would happen if he realized he wanted to end things? Would he be yours? Would he decide that your time and your heart and your pussy were infinitely more important than his sexual prowess?

You scrunch your nose. These are all the wrong questions. Harry doesn’t work like that. He never has and you can’t expect something from him that he won’t ever give you.

You return your focus to him. To the way his large hands are curling around your thighs and hoisting them up on the counter. You love his hands. You think they might be your favorite hands in the world.

They’re so gentle but strong. Practiced. You know they’d look good anywhere on your body. Your thighs, your chest, your throat…

You whimper at the thought and he glances up. He’s proud again. Drenched in your arousal and the evidence of your lust for him.

He moves his mouth to the inside of your leg and nips. He leaves marks and memories along the soft skin and you can’t wait to stare at them whenever he’s not around. The way he makes you his in the only way he can.

And you’re so close. You aren’t even sure how he got you here so quickly but he always seems to. And you don’t mind. Instead, you fist his hair and you buck against his tongue and he’s going to make you cum all over his girlfriend’s kitchen counter.

And then he stops.

He stops, he lets you go, and he pulls away.

Your heart drops to your toes as the orgasm fizzles down to nothing. “What…what are you—"

“Get down,” he says curtly. He slaps your outer thigh. “We’re leaving.”

He doesn’t tell you where you’re going. And you don’t ask. Instead, you watch as he wipes his mouth and disappears from the kitchen to wait by the front door.

After straightening your dress and readjusting your underwear, you scurry to his side with a fretful glance toward the bathroom. “Shouldn’t you tell her you’re going?”

He smiles. “She’ll figure it out.”

With that, you leave their apartment so he can take you back to your place and he keeps his hand on your thigh the whole drive. You wonder if he merely wants to keep some sort of claim on you or if it’s habit. 

Either way, his thumb rubs circles into your skin, right over the dark spots made by his lips and you smile. You want to lace your fingers with his. Want to hold his hand and pretend like the two of you are on your way home from a date. To pretend like this is normal—an everyday occurrence.

But you lose your nerve and soon, he’s pulling into the parking lot.  

“I want you upstairs,” he says and gives you a pointed look. “On the bed. Naked. And waiting for me by the time I come up.”

You nod quickly. “Okay. Are…am I in trouble—”

“That depends on if you obey.” He unlocks the door. “So let’s hope you do.”

Swallowing a giddy grin, you scurry from the vehicle and into your building. You don’t bother with tidying up or adjusting your appearance. You run straight into your bedroom, rip off your clothes, and spread out into a starfish position on the bed.

You hear him follow not much later. Slow, deliberate steps. Meant to taunt you, tease you. Make your stomach flip. And it works.

When you see his tall, muscular figure in the doorway, your pulse skips.

Smiling, you call, “Hi, Sir—”

“No speaking,” he says shortly. “Unless I say otherwise. Is that understood?”

“Yes—no—sorry, I’m…” You stop. Nod. 

He frowns but you know it’s only to hide a smirk. “Don’t test me, Kitten. You’ve already done that enough this evening, have you not?”

Another nod.

“And you knew better, didn’t you?” He walks into the room and begins to unzip his jeans. “Knew better than to dangle fucking Ethan in my face.”

You nod again but your eyes are trained on his hands. On the fingers that pull the hem of his shirt up and over his head.

“And you fucking knew…that if I got a taste of such a sweet pussy…I’d never stop,” he murmurs. He crawls onto the bed, wearing nothing more than his briefs. “That I’d forgive you. And let you off the hook.”

You don’t nod this time. You can’t. You’re too far gone in the lust in his eyes. The gentle green that’s now dangerous and luring you in.

“Well,” he whispers and then he smiles. “You thought wrong.”

He grabs your thighs and flips you over. Before you know it, you’re on your stomach, head spinning, while a large palm comes down in a sharp smack to your ass.

You jolt. Shriek. 

“Easy,” he says and he’s kinder now. “You’re gonna take your punishment like a good little whore, aren’t you?”

Now you understand. You see. And you settle onto the bed as he smooths the stinging print with the soft of his hand. 

You nod.

“Good.” He spanks you again. “I think we should do one for every time you lied to me. For every time I asked for the truth…and you refused to give it to me.”

Your lashes flutter. You suppose that’s only fair, although in your defense, the truth would have only hurt him.

“Let’s see…we’ll start with five,” he says and you exhale a sigh of relief. “Because I know you don’t mean to be a bad girl, do you?”

You whimper.

“You want to be good. Want to behave for me.” He spanks you. Number three. “You want a lot of things from me, don’t you? And maybe I’m bad, too. For not being able to give them to you.”

The air in the room shifts and you attempt to glance back.

However, he lays another firm smack to your ass before you can and then squeezes your hip. “Come on, you’re almost done,” he coos. A beat passes. “Do you remember me mentioning the traffic light system?”

You nod.

“Red for stop, yellow for pause, green for good, keep going?”

Nod.

“Good. Then I want you to use your words and tell me what color you are right now. Honestly.”

“Green,” you whisper, then clear your throat and speak louder. “I’m green. Honestly.”

He hums. “And you’re gonna take your last strike, yes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And you’re gonna thank me for being so generous to such a selfish fucking whore?”

Your cheeks flush. Oh, he’s very good. “Yes, Sir.”

You still can’t see him but you can imagine his grin.

The last spank of his hand lands against your tender skin and somehow…it feels good. There’s something delicious about his pain. About the way he inflicts it. The way your body responds to it.

You groan—moan—and finally manage, “Thank you, Sir.”

He purrs something devious as he strokes the spot and begins to kiss his way up your spine. “Good fucking girl,” he breathes. The exhale of his praise dances across your back and you shiver. “Took your punishment so well. Wasn’t so bad, was it? Bet you even fucking liked, dirty thing. Didn’t you?”

You nod again and feel his knee begin to nudge its way back between your thighs. 

“Let’s check, shall we?” His fingers move now for the mess you already know is there. And when he feels it, he curses. “Fucking shit, Kitten, you’re soaked.”

You are. You are soaked and you’re making a mess of your duvet and his knee and he still hasn’t let you cum yet and you think you might die if he waits any longer. 

“Harry,” you nearly cry. “Please…please…”

He brings his kisses to the back of your neck. To the place below your ear that makes your stomach flip. He kisses. Sucks. Nips and violates the skin with his teeth.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Okay, but only because I know you need it.”

You nod again and begin to turn over. He goes to stop you—he wants to try from behind—but you insist.

“I want to see your face,” you say. “Please, I just…I need that tonight.”

The softness in his eyes and the fall of his expression almost hurts you. You don’t want to cause him pain or confusion. Ever.

But he’s not confused. He understands. And he agrees because maybe he needs it, too.

You pull him out of his briefs and he hikes your leg around his hip. Until the heel of your foot is digging into his ass and pulling him forward.

When he first pushes in, you both take a moment of silence to appreciate the beauty of your bodies connecting.

Harry was once your best friend and now he’s something else entirely. A completely different entity and you never imagined you’d see his cock disappearing into your cunt but now you don’t want to imagine his cock anywhere else.

When he’s about halfway in, he pulls back out and begins a steady pace. He’s large and he knows you need a moment or two to find the pleasure before he picks up a faster rhythm. So, he puts the focus on you. On your clit, on your thighs, on the way his lips feel against yours.

He kisses you—soft, sweet. Gentle. And then he kisses your neck. Your chest. Plays with your tits and whispers about how good they feel in his hand.

Then, he buries himself to the hilt as his hips find yours.

You arch and he catches you. There are more kisses, more soft murmurings. And there’s an intimacy here that doesn’t feel like sex. It feels like making love, a term you once scoffed at but now indulge in. Because maybe he does love you, in the only way he knows how. Maybe he does choose your body over hers. Maybe this was the best thing that ever could have happened to you. 

You grab his hand and bring it to your throat. Pointed enough that he knows what you want and after a quick glance for consent…he squeezes.

Your lashes flutter and you press on his knuckles. Harder. He obeys.

And you were right. His hand does look good on your body. A necklace to wear proudly and he whispers your name before tightening his grip and allowing the sides of your sanity to go fuzzy before loosening his fingers. 

You breathe. Deep. The air tastes like him and you love it.

He smiles. “You okay?”

“More than okay. That was…shit, I really like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Probably cause you’re doing it.”

He uses this hold to kiss you and it’s a mess of tongues and spit and loud sucking. It makes you giggle.

“You’re making this very hard for me,” he suddenly whispers.

“Well, I prefer you hard.”

He smirks, but this is not what he means. “I want this to work.”

“I know. I do, too.”

He surges forward—a sharp thrust. “It can’t work if Ethan’s in the picture.”

Oh. “Why? Because you need room for Rebecca?”

He sighs and you hate how sad it sounds. “I know I’m not being fair—”

“You’re not.”

“I can’t help it—”

“Well, neither can I.”

He stops for a moment and looks at you. “You have every right to go out with him. I know that. But I think I’ll lose my fucking mind if you do.” He continues to roll his body against yours and you want to purr. “So I want to make a deal.”

“Okay…”

“If you go out with Ethan, you go out with me,” he says. “If you date him, you date me. And I’ll play nice. I’ll share. But only until you realize he’s a waste of time.

You run your fingers along his shoulders. Along his back. Along the curve of his ass. You think about his proposition. It sounds good, it does. A way to keep him while also keeping your options open. 

Because maybe this way, it won’t hurt so much when he still goes home to her.

“Can I think about it?” you ask. 

He kisses you. “Of course. Always.”

You resume the languid but fervent pace he previously set. He squeezes your neck whenever he wants to hear you whimper and you scratch your nails down his spine whenever you want him to groan.

And it’s perfect. Truly. Because while you’re on this date with Ethan, he’ll be able to see the marks Harry left on your throat.

And when Harry goes back to Rebecca, she’ll see the scratches down his back made by your hands.

You can’t help but feel satisfied with the idea and it brings you that much closer as Harry presses your hips to the bed and begins to fuck into you harder.

He readjusts his stance above you, knees deep into the mattress and hands clutching the sheets beside your waist. And every thrust is purposeful. Hard. Beautiful. The sounds are symphonic and when you look down to see, you nearly mewl. The way his cock is absolutely fucking covered in you, slipping in and out of your cunt with ease and determination. 

He’s beautiful when he’s focused. When he’s about to cum. You just want to kiss him and hold him and love him and be his.

And you fucking hate it.

“Need you to cum, baby,” he whispers and you nod in agreement. “Can you do that?”

“Yes….yes, Sir,” you stammer, already feeling the overwhelming power creep up your thighs. “I’m…I—”

“I know. I know, come on—”

You do. Just like that. Unravel like a spool of thread and dissolve into nothing but pleasure beneath him.

But you don’t feel him follow. In fact, he continues fucking you through your high until he suddenly pulls out and comes all over your swollen pussy.

It’s the most mesmerizing thing you think you’ve ever seen. The sticky substance paints your cunt in masterful strokes. Glistening from your body, your clit, your thighs like stars.

And you want to be disappointed that he didn’t finish inside but soon you understand why.

He takes your hand. Moves it closer and presses your fingers into the mess. 

“Touch it,” he whispers. “Fuck it back in.”

Your eyes widen. He smiles but the look in his eye is mischievous and deranged.

“Go on, Kitten,” he says. “I wanna watch.”

Your arms are shaking. In fact, every part of you is still shaking from your orgasm but you obey. You slowly—very slowly—begin to circle your touch around your clit. Feeling the way it nearly throbs as you stimulate it. As you force it into more pleasure.

Harry’s attention is glued to the show before him as he swallows thickly and you swear you can almost see his heart beating against his chest like a cartoon.

You move down. Collect as many drops of him as you can and slowly begin to ease two fingers into your fluttering hole.

When you reach the knuckle, you gasp and he exhales. 

It’s perfect.

He scoots back until he can lay on his stomach and place his cheek against your thigh. Close. Close enough that you can feel his breath fan across your hand.

And he watches. Happy. A lazy smile on those beautiful, pink lips. Lashes fluttering every time you whimper or whine.

“I…I can’t,” you whisper. The sensations are too strong. You’ve already cum once, you can’t possibly cum again so soon.

He hums. “Yes, you can. Let me see, baby. Let me watch.”

And you almost want to be embarrassed but something else seems to take over your mind entirely and you can’t help but go faster.

You pinch and curl and flex. You push his offering as far into you as you can reach and then you push in a little more. And it’s easier this time, even if it almost hurts. But you cum. You do, right in front of his very eyes until he’s quickly grabbing hold of you as though he’s desperate to be closer.

You’re more than a puddle this time. You’re practically limp but you’re also so incredibly happy. And he smiles brightly as he pulls your fingers away and puts them in his mouth.

You don’t even have the energy to make a noise this time. You merely watch him—content—until he starts kissing down your palm, along your arm, and to your chest.

Then, he pulls you into his embrace and you both indulge in a moment of peace. 

You’re both quiet for a while. Even after your heartbeat has steadied. Even after the sweat on your skin has dried and the room no longer feels so warm. 

You run your fingers down his torso. Along the dips and curves of his muscles that seem more defined every time you see him. 

“You’re insufferable,” you finally say and he laughs. The sound bounces between the walls of your room—joyous and unencumbered—and it makes you giddy. He doesn’t laugh like this for her. “What? You are.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Another beat. Longer.

Then, you whisper, “Okay.”

He looks down. “Okay?”

“I’ll agree to your deal.”

“Really?” He’s grinning again. Big.

“Mhm. As long as I get to keep you in some way…maybe it’ll be worth it.”

He seems to sadden at the use of the word maybe, but he brushes it off before you can comment on it. Instead, he pulls you closer and kisses you hard. Forever. 

And maybe…this won’t be so bad.

Previous Part:

~ Insatiable You* (Pt. 2)

~ Full Infinite You Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @buckybarnessimpp @hannah9921

[mina-saiyat]

Let's Play Ball (Sana)

‘LG Twins! LG Twins!’ The cheer from the stadium is too loud, which can be clearly heard even in the toilet. Sana was invited to attend the match today for the ceremonial first pitch today. However, as soon as the match starts, she secretly goes to the changing room of LG Twins. The jersey she wears is cut specifically to show her waist, the jeans are extra tight to highlight her huge ass.

Sana takes a deep breath, pretending to be calm and opens the door. ‘Is anyone here?’ Sure enough, there is a man waiting here, a director from LG Twins, who sends the invitation to JYP.

"Come on, Sana, let's get started." The man raises the corners of his mouth and shows an evil smile. "What...start?" Sana asked knowingly.

"Of course, I want to enjoy your soft and fragrant body." The man grabs Sana's wrist, pushes her down on the bench without any explanation, then leans down and kisses Sana's lips...

Sana knows that the current situation could not be reversed, so she simply stops resisting and lays down on the bench obediently, raising her neck slightly to receive the man's passionate kiss.

While kissing Sana, the man stretches out his hand to knead the two bulges on Sana's chest. The other hand slips into Sana's jeans and wanders around the top of her thigh.

"Hmm..." Sana couldn't help but hum softly as she feels the stimulation coming from the sensitive parts of her body.

The man's actions become more and more unscrupulous. He pulls away Sana's jersey, bites and sucks on Sana's fair and smooth skin, leaving wet marks. At the same time, his fingers also penetrated Sana's underwear, pressing and teasing Sana's most private parts.

"Ah...ha..." Sana couldn't help but twist her body and her breathing becomes rapid.

"Sana is so sensitive, already emotional right from the beginning." The man raises his head and smiles proudly.

Sana deliberately put on a flirtatious expression, licked her lips and said, "Yes, when I see a strong man like you, I can't help but get wet down there."

"Really? Then I'm going to take good care of that 'little devil' below you." The man pulls down Sana's underwear with great interest and directly swirls the tip of his tongue on her clitoris.

"Oh...ah...no..." Sana was so stimulated that her whole body was numb, but she still keep saying seductive words in her mouth: "Harder...eat me until I am clean...um."

After hearing this, the man really increasedhis strength. His tongue flexibly rolls and licks Sana's core. Occasionally, he would insert the entire length into Sana's vaginal opening and thrust it a few times.

"Ah... it's so deep... I'm going to cum..." Sana screams, and a large amount of semen spurts out from the her clit, pouring into the man's mouth.

"Miss Sana is having some much water, I'm almost drowning." The man says and swallows all of Sana's juice, and once again takes Sana's lower body and sucks wildly.

"No... I… cum... ah -" Sana screams and spurts out spurts of orgasmic semen, all which lands on the man's naked upper body.

"Finally, I thought you were going to gag me." The man licks his lips, then stands up and unzips his pants.

After Sana sees his size clearly, she immediately covers her mouth and widened her eyes - this man's penis is too big and hard, and it seems that her pussy would be red and swollen from being penetrated.

"Don't be afraid, I will enter slowly later." The man pats Sana's head comfortingly, then turns Sana over and kneels her down on the bench.

"Let's start from the back first." The man holds his huge penis against the entrance of Sana's wet pussy, and slowly but powerfully pushed inside.

Sana couldn't help but gasp as she frld the man's hot penis gradually penetrate into her body. "It's so big...you're going to fill me up..." Sana looks back at the man, her eyes blurred and unexplained.

"You're so tight, just like a virgin." The man enjoys the way Sana's cavity walls clamps around his penis, and he couldn't help but growl in pleasure.

Sana shakes her hips and bumps back in time with the man's rhythm. "Ah...go deeper...insert it all the way inside..." Sana is completely immersed in lust, moaning wildly.

"As you wish." The man suddenly straightens his waist, and the entire length of his penis is being inserted into Sana's pussy.

"Oh!!!" Sana screams as she climbs into another orgasm, nectar leaking from the joint and soaking the bench. The man grabs Sana's waist and fucks her without stopping. He penetrates as deep as possible with every thrust, and his huge cock moves in and out of Sana's pussy like a piston, making a slurping sound.

"It feels so good... Harder... Penetrate me... Ah——" Sana is completely lost in the sea of ​​pleasure, just wanting more and more. The man is also so happy that he growls again and again. He pinches Sana's breasts and rubs them with one hand, and penetrates Sana's anus with the other hand, torturing Sana in three ways.

"Oh oh oh...” Sana feels a tingling sensation coming from her anus. Her anal canal was pried open and expanded by the man's fingers, and her tight muscles contracted instinctively, which makes the man feel even more happy.

"The hole in the back of you is also good at sucking " The man laughs.

Sana blushes with embarrassment, but her brain is soon occupied by the pleasure in both holes, and she could only scream loudly.

"Hurry...don't stop...it's coming...ahhhhh-" Sana collapses to the ground after a fierce climax, but the man does not let her go, but accelerates the fucking.

"Oh...I am going to be broken...how can you last so long..." Sana begs in a daze, but couldn't stop herself from catering to the man.

The man stops and looks at Sana with a half-smile: "Don't you like it very much? Why do you want me to stop again?"

"No...I want you..." Sana doesn't know how to express her desire, so she blushes and lowers her head.

"What do you want from me?" The man approachs step by step, licking Sana's ear.

"I want you to...insert me inside...fuck me hard..." Sana yells out these words without any hesitation, just hoping that the man could satisfy her desires.

"As you wish." The man chuckles and startes again. His cock and finger advanced deep into Sana's body at the same time, as if they were about to penetrate Sana.

"Ahhhh - it's so deep... it's about to burst... but... please don't stop..." Sana cries out as her nipples were pinched hard by the man, and a finger was inserted deeply into her anus. The sensitive points on both front and back were extremely stimulated, causing her to reach another climax very quickly.

"Ahhh... I'm going to die..." Sana rolles her eyes, a large amount of transparent juice gushes out from the place of intercourse, making the man's crotch muddy.

However, the man has no intention of stopping at all. He increases the speed of thrusting and says viciously: "You haven't been fucked enough by me yet."

Sana barely struggles to support her upper body, looks at the man and begs for mercy: "I really can't do it anymore... I'm about to be penetrated down there... You..."

The man suddenly leans down and bites Sana's lips, kissing her roughly. At the same time, the movements of his lower body become faster and harder. His huge penis is rubbing in and out of Sana's body, as if he is trying to turn Sana's vagina completely out.

"Um...slow down...I'm going to suffocate..." Sana is almost choked by the kiss, but she couldn't help but respond to the man's manipulation.

The man let go of Sana's lips, raises her chin and stares into her eyes: "You said you want me to slow down, do you want me to stop or do you want me to fuck you slower?"

Sana is stunned for a moment, and then she understands what the man meant, and her face turns red: "Just fuck me more slowly... I can bear it..."

"Very good." The man smiles with satisfaction. He indeed slows down the speed, but the intensity of the fucking increased a lot, and each thrust is as deep as possible.

"Oh...so deep...so comfortable..." Sana moans unconsciously, the nectar gurgling out and forming a clear spring on the man's thigh.

The man is even more proud when he sees this. He grabs Sana's waist and sprints hard. His thick penis quickly moves in and out of Sana's body, making a "slapping" sound.

"You are such a little devil, this pussy is just full of water." The man jokes.

Sana is ashamed, but also excited by the man's vulgar words. She couldn't help but twist her hips to meet the man's manipulation, and at the same time gently rubs her clit with her fingers, hoping to get more pleasure.

"Ahh... faster... I'm cumming..." Sana screams loudly. She feels that her orgasm is approaching, and she is only one step away from reaching the peak of bliss.

The man seems to be aware of Sana's state. He no longer holds back, but thrust with all his strength. His thick penis moves in and out of Sana's body quickly, making a "Gurgling" sound.

"Are you cumming? I'm going to make you feel so good." The man smiles evilly and suddenly accelerates his speed and sprints vigorously, crushing Sana's G-spot with every stroke.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Sana screams as she climaxed. Her whole body convulses, and a large amount of nectar squirts out, spraying all over the man.

The man's face is sprayed with Sana's juice, but he didn't feel disgusted at all. Instead, he looks excited. "You're so horny, you squirted like this." The man teases Sana, stroking her smooth back and gently slapping her buttocks.

Sana's cheeks are so red that they are about to bleed. She never thought that she would reach such an orgasm under the gaze of a stranger. But she also feels unprecedented satisfaction and pleasure, as if her entire body was filled.

"Do you still want it? I can continue to serve you." The man whispers in Sana's ear, his voice full of temptation.

Sana shakes her head, but nods immediately. She didn't know how to answer this question. She knows her job is to satisfy the man, and desire makes her unable to resist the man's invitation.

When the man sees this, he doesn't ask any questions. He picks up Sana and turns her around into a missionary position, then kneels between her legs.

"This time I will make you completely happy." The man says as he straightens his back and inserts his penis into Sana's slippery pussy. "Oh..." Sana let out a sigh of relief. She raises her head and closes her eyes, letting the pleasure engulf her.

The man starts a new round of fucking. His movements are more powerful and rougher than before. Each thrust penetrates to the deepest point, crushing Sana's G-spot hard. At the same time, he keeps changing his rhythm, sometimes slowly, and sometimes he sprintes straight to the cervix.

"Do you like this position? I feel your vagina is sucking me tightly." The man teases while fucking.

Sana blushes with embarrassment. She knows that she must look very lustful now, but she doesn't care about it anymore and just screams loudly along with the rhythm of the man's fucking.

Sana is completely lost in the ecstasy of sex. She only knows how to follow the man's fucking and desperately wants him to penetrate deeper and faster.

"Oh... it's going to break... you inserted it too deep..." Sana cried, she could clearly feel the man's thick and long penis moving in and out of her body, and every time it was inserted as deep as possible...

The man doesn't care about this. He grabs Sana's waist and accelerates the speed. His huge penis quickly slams into Sana's body, making a "slap" sound. "I just want to see you crying and begging for mercy." The man growls, and his breathing gradually becomes heavier.

Sana couldn't bear it any longer, and she cries loudly with tears streaming down her face: "I'm cumming... Hurry up... faster..." The man fucks her more violently as if he is allowed to do so. His penis rushes wildly inside Sana, reaching the deepest point every time. Sana's womb was being hit again and again, and the pleasure sweeps over her like a tide, and soon she reaches another climax.

"Ah——!" Sana screames and bites the man's shoulder. Her whole body convulses, and a large amount of nectar squirt out again, covering the man's body.

The man is aroused by Sana's sudden attack. He growls and accelerates the speed of thrusting. His penis is rubbing rapidly inside Sana's body, and he is about to reach climax. As soon as Sana recovers from the afterglow of her climax, she was pushed up to a higher mountain by the man's wild fucking again.

Sana could clearly feel the man's thick penis thrusting deeper and deeper into her body, reaching her most sensitive sex center. She couldn't help but scream: "Don't...I’m going to break..."

However, the man ignores her cries. He grabs Sana's breasts and squeezes them hard. At the same time, he speeds up and fucks her hard. "I'm going to cum, are you ready?" the man grows, his voice a little hoarse.

Sana's reason has long since disappeared, and she just wants to pursue more and stronger pleasure. So she leaves a deep tooth mark on the man's shoulder, and at the same time twistes her hips to cooperate with the man's manipulation. "Cum in me...give it all to me..." Sana screames loudly. She could feel the man's thick penis swelling inside her body, as if it is about to spurt out in the next moment.

Sure enough, the man suddenly increased his speed, thrusting his long and thick penis rapidly inside Sana's body, hitting the G-spot hard with every thrust. Sana's senses were completely amplified at this time, and every groan and every gasp of the man turned into overwhelming pleasure and hit her.

"Oh——!" The man yells. He holds Sana's waist and penetrates deeply. His thick penis is completely immersed in Sana's body. Then a stream of hot semen shoots out and pours into Sana's womb.

Sana is also stimulated by the burning heat and reaches another climax. Her whole body is convulsing, and only broken moans are left in her mouth.

The man slowly pulls out his still erect penis, and a large amount of white turbid liquid flows out of Sana's slightly open clit, staining the bench underneath her.

Sana is a little dazed in the afterglow of orgasm, but when the man's penis is pulled out, she immediately wakes up. Sana looks at the penis that is still erected and covered with her own bodily fluids, and feels a strong desire for possession. She couldn't help but stick out her tongue and lick it gently, and then takes the entire glans in her mouth.

"Well... what a slut..." The man chuckles, but does not stop Sana's movement. He reaches out and strokes the back of Sana's head, guiding her to start cleaning up the results of his recent victory.

Sana moans seductively while licking every inch of her sex with her tongue. This scene is so erotic that the man couldn't help but sigh.

At the same time, the man does not let go of his attack on Sana. He continues to knead Sana's red and swollen breasts, and occasionally pinches the cherry at the top, causing Sana to gasp repeatedly.

"Ah... don't..." Sana still has half of his penis in her mouth, and the sounds from her mouth naturally turns into indistinct moans. But this sound is supremely beautiful music to a man's ears.

The man increases his intensity, rubbing Sana's breasts vigorously with his palms, and his penis moves back and forth into Sana's mouth, pushing into the depth of her throat from time to time. Sana feels like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered, with every part of her body being controlled by men. But she doesn't hate this feeling.

Sana's mouth is completely filled with the cock, but it was not enough to satisfy her. She swallows the huge thing harder, trying to take it all into her mouth.

When the man sees this, he doesn't stop her. He holds the back of Sana's head and thrusts his penis straight into Sana's mouth until it reaches the depths of her throat. Sana's saliva mixes with the previous body fluids, forming patches of foam between the entrance and exit of the genitals.

"Oh...it feels so good...your little mouth is really good at sucking..." The man couldn't help but growl, Sana's deep throat gives him great pleasure. Sana's mouth is narrow, moist, and hot, and Sana's tongue is very good at licking. All of this makes the man go crazy. So, the man no longer cares about Sana's feelings. He grabs Sana's hair and thrust his penis into her mouth quickly. His thick penis rubs in Sana's throat, and he soon reaches another climax.

"I'm going to cum... Just take it..." The man growls. When his penis is inserted to the deepest, he cums a large amount of hot semen, all pours into Sana's esophagus.

Sana choked and coughed from the sudden ejaculation, but she still managed to swallow most of it. She is not able to breathe until the man pulled out his genitals.

There is white liquid hanging from the corner of Sana's mouth, and there is a hint of longing in her eyes as she looks at the man.

Sana's eyes tell the man that she wanted to be creampied. But time is limited, and their game must end before others come back.

So the man leans down, bites one of Sana's earlobes, and whispers: "Wait for me, I will love you very much until midnight... According to the contract, you are my fuck toy until 12…"

After hearing the man's words, Sana's eyes immediately filled with water. The two spends a crazy afternoon in the locker room. When the whistle is blowed, the men is already dressed and ready to leave. Sana beside him is a little distracted. Although she is dressed as she came, the slightly bulging shape of her abdomen indicates some unusual condition.

On the way, the man asks Sana in a low voice: "Are you still feeling comfortable with my semen?" Sana nods shyly. Her womb is still filled with the man's semen, and she could feel the warm swaying in her body when she walks.

The man smiles. He pats Sana's butt and whispers, "There will be something better later... We will continue when we get to the hotel." Sana couldn't help but shivers when she hears it, but she doesn't refuse. It’s just another job.

[minhosimthings]

Girl Dad!Skz headcannons

Pairings: husband!Skz × wife!fem!reader

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, mentions of pregnancy, reader wears a dress, mentions of food, teensy swearing

A/N: GUESS WHO HAS BABY FEVER AYY ITS THIS BITCH RIGHT HERE. I am so DONE with watching my fav idols play with babies and not expect me to die. WHERE IS MY CHAN WHO'LL GIVE MR A BABY HUH? anyways enjoy my very drunken headcannons

Bang Christopher Chan

DID I JUST HEAR BEST DAD IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD

This man was born to be a dad istg

He'd be so amazing when you're pregnant, like he'd ask his mom for advice, give you belly rubs if your ask and will willingly lend his entire closet to you.

Would be so supportive through the birth process, is not disgusted or anything because he is him.

"She looks just like you."

Would be just a teensy bit overprotective, just a teensy bit.

"And you will bring her back by 7 yes? Oh and what's your address for unrelated purposes?"

*sends the address to Minho incase he needs to murder anyone*

Would be so comforting when she gets her period

"you know I used to do this to your mother.", While massaging her back.

The baby would grow up multilingual and Chan would be so smug about it

"my daughter is my second producer

Lee Minho/Lee Know

Would have such mixed emotions when you tell him you're pregnant

On the one hand A PERSON MADE UP OF BOTH OF YOU? WOAH

On the other hand OH SHIT A PERSON WHO HAS BOTH OUR GENES

Cooks all your weird ass cravings for you but not before giving you a side eye

"Alright y'all are gonna get a sibling." *Is talking to the cats*

Buys everything cat themed

"baby what if the baby is a dog person?"

Y'all have twins, a boy and a girl (manifesting my twin dad Minho fantasies)

Would dance for them when they're babies and would get elated when they try to copy him

Pouts when their first word is mama

Brags so much about them

"I mean they are MY spawn, obviously they're better at dance than your kid, Susan"

Seo Changbin

GIRL DAD GIRL DAD GIRL DAD

So elated when you tell him you're pregnant

PREGNANT CUDDLES KZKSNSNJ

Would be a 100% on board with lifting your belly to save your back

When you find out it's a girl, he straight on sobs.

"I CAN'T HANDLE ANOTHER PAIR OF ADORABLE YN EYES LOOKING AT ME"

Holds the baby extra carefully in his buff ass arms

She looks like you part 2

Tea parties with her are serious buisness for him

"jagi can't you see im currently discussing with the princess about her magical dragon I'll do the dishes later."

Would probably ask her if she wants to go to the gym with her dad and when she says yes he'd be so happy

"you're better than your mother she can't even lift her ass up and go to the gym"

Hwang Hyunjin

When I say this man would paint you a portrait when you tell him you're pregnant-

HE'LL PAINT YOU A FUCKING PORTRAIT

So sweet with you all throughout but also a nervous wreck

Much like me

Would love to paint your belly if you allow him to

Would try your weird cravings with you

And actually like them

Let's not pretend like Hyun doesn't do the pregnant woman pose everyday

Cries so hard when your baby is born

He doesn't mind the gender or anything, but when he found out it's a girl-

"GUYS ITS A MINI Y/N"

She looks like you part 3

Such a clumsy mess when it comes to taking care of her

ART CLASSES ART CLASSES ART CLASSES

"Darling, we painted this for you."

Han Jisung

Immediately freezes when you tell him

Jisung.exe has stopped working

"wait so the protection didn't.... Protect?"

Now Y/N.exe has stopped working trying to figure out whether you actually used protection or not

Talks to your belly all day

Treats the baby like a gossip partner

"girl you won't believe what Hyunjin did today."

"what did he do?"

"yn shush I'm talking to our baby girl."

Is your personal high school cheerleader during the birth

"jagi you are slaying right now you can do this."

Cries when baby is born part 3

Calls her a co-producer part 2

Spoils her shitless

She has him wrapped around her finger, much like her mother :)

Making playlists with her is his love language

Lee Felix Yongbok

Did I just hear breeding kink

Cries when you tell him

Bakes so many brownies when you tell him like one time that you're craving his brownies

Makes your weird cravings part 3

Idk what it is with me and DanceRacha making all your weird cravings

Runs you baths, with bath salts, bath bombs, scented candles and massages your aching muscles I WILL DIE RIGHT NOW

Is the best during the birth, holds your hand allowing you to squeeze it as hard as you want

Dresses baby up like the fashionista she is

Is so amazed and ecstatic when the baby gets an Aussie accent

"JAGI SHE JUST SAID BREKKIE"

Kim Seungmin

Tsundere daddy meow

Will literally melt like his face will be like 🥺

Buys all the cute stuff on day one

I'm talking cradles, blinkies, toys, bonnets for some reason

"of course she needs a ponyo outfit darling come on"

Tones down his teasing a bit

Still makes fun of your penguin walk tho

And if you cry, he will comfort you and never forgive himself for it

Is kinda disgusted by the birth process but he's a strong soldier

Cries when baby is born part 4

Like Kim Seungmin crying is a real thing chat

Singing lessons are free for her, and she has her dad's angel voice!!

Also inherits her dad's roasting style, and she's the only one who can roast him back hehe

He kinda died inside when she told him he was old (he's never been prouder)

Yang Jeongin/ I.N

Bruh this guy istg

Mixed emotions part 2

"IM TOO YOUNG TO HAVE A CHILD"

Calms down eventually (after a slap on the head)

BELLY RUBS

Spoils the shit out of you because obviously

Asks his mum for advice part 2

Sings to your belly at night when he thinks you're asleep

Secretly hopes baby will have his dimple

He loves kids, so parenting is a natural thing that comes to him

Probably more experienced at holding a baby than you are

Feeds her for the first few days when you're tired

Perfect husband honestly he should marry me

Loves braiding her hair and giving her fashion advice

Mini fashion shows!!!

Dances with her a lot

[undiscovered-horizon]

Who am I to complain? - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[emotional and verbal abuse, unhealthy parent-child relationships]

SUMMARY: When your parents come to visit, Nikolai finally understands why you've never been keen to talk about them. Being the King and your husband, he isn't afraid to defy them.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 4.5k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

"Have you listened to anything I've just said?"

Nikolai shakes you awake from being lost in thought. You look away from the insanely interesting skirting board you had been staring at for the past ten minutes. He’s watching you with raised eyebrows, awaiting an answer.

"I…” you hang your voice. At first, you wanted to just apologize and ask him to repeat himself but then a sense of dread sprouts in your abdomen - one you can’t quite put a finger on but it takes over your entire mind. “I'm sorry, Kolya. Please, don’t be mad at me, I’m sorry,” you plead, gradually speaking faster.

“I’m not angry,” he states firmly. “But I am growing concerned for you, love. What’s going on?”

“I just keep thinking about my parents' visit,” you confess while rubbing your forehead. “Ever since the letter arrived, I can hardly think about anything else."

"Yes, I've noticed you have been a bit absent for the past few days. I assumed you were going to talk to me when you're ready. Are you?"

"They're not bad people," you begin in a strange tone that makes Nikolai doubt your words right away, "and they've only done their best to give me a good life. Despite that, they have a tendency to bring out the parts of me I've grown to dislike." 

“Isn’t that what every family does?” he jokes in hopes of easing your visible discomfort. But his good humour is gone the moment you look away with a sombre expression stuck to your features.

Nikolai always considered himself exceptional at self-control but something about your sadness makes him gradually abandon reason. As you forlornly stare into the darkness of your shared bedroom, he’s ready to stick feathers to his clothes and pretend to be a peacock just to make you laugh.

“Love,” he calls out softly. His hand rests between your shoulder blades. “You’re the queen. If you want, we can call their visit off right away.”

“That would be a little rude, no?” you ask in a meek voice.

“It’s a lot more crude to make you cry.”

“I will be alright, really,” you reassure him. That miserable look on your face is slowly creeping away. “It’s just three days. Maybe they’ve changed or they’re a lot better than I remember. I’ll be okay.”

Nikolai is unsure whether you’re trying to convince yourself or him but he doesn’t push. Despite not believing your clumsy words of reassurance, he trusts you - he’ll step in only when things really get out of hand.

Nervousness and excitement often feel the same and one might even fool themselves into believing that the mortifying tension in their muscles is actually an impatient thrill. Today, however, you don’t even try playing a little trick on yourself. The more you think about your feelings, the more you’re convinced that it’s not even nervousness but fear. Still, you don’t quite understand why exactly your parents’ visit elicits such awful emotions from you.

The door to the throne room opens and a man in a white and gold livery steps inside. He quickly walks halfway to the dais with the throne. 

The servant bows as deep as he can and clears his throat before loudly announcing: “Presenting her most royal Highness’s, the Queen’s, mother and father.”

Only then do your parents emerge from the hall, walking hesitantly through the spacious throne room. Two guards are following them and your father spares them a confused glance every few steps. But the armed men only usher him to keep walking and not turn his back to the king until allowed to do so.

Feeling fear exploding in your chest, you grip Nikolai’s shoulder even tighter. Sitting on the throne, he has to look up to meet your eyes.

“Calm down, it’s going to be alright,” he says quietly. A reassuring smile curves his lips. “You said it yourself.”

As though he is a Heartrender himself, his words make you relax. You take a deep breath and let go of his shoulder. At that moment, Nikolai stands up to greet your parents as their son-in-law first and only then the king of Ravka.

Right then, your mother quickly runs up the few steps leading to the dais. Her face is red and a deep crease now separates her eyebrows.

“I have to wait to be announced to see my own daughter?” She’s barely containing her outrage. “Nonsense!”

“I’m royalty now, mother,” you explain calmly. Your voice almost doesn’t shake.

“And I’m still your mother, the one that gave birth to you. Do I not get any benefits from that?”

Maybe some people don’t actually change.

“I’m afraid you don’t.”

“Is this gold?!” your father exclaims in shock as his hand reaches for your heavy necklace. “So because of you most of Ravka is starving?”

Too occupied with the jewellery, your parents don’t notice the palace guards stepping forward to arrest them for such an accusation aimed at the queen. Nikolai spares them a meaningful look, waving them off. In his heart, he agrees with them.

“Actually, this is a gift from a businessman in Kerch,” you say quietly. Suddenly, you remember why you’ve never visited them since your wedding.

“Still, don’t you think this is a little distasteful?”

Your mother places her hand on your father’s shoulder. “She’s always been vain, darling,” she reminds him.

You’re not a queen anymore - at least you don’t feel like it. All of the gold, silk and jewels are gone and you’re back to being a scared, little girl with hay stuck in her hair. Tears sting your eyes.

Whatever you do is wrong. All of your efforts are underwhelming. Maybe they’d be happier if you weren’t there.

"You're crying?” your father asks with a hint of disgust in his voice. “Oh, don't be so sensitive, you know we’re only joking!” He’s still holding your necklace in his fingers, admiring the glistening crystals. Standing so close to you, he lowers his voice significantly to appear inconspicuous but Nikolai manages to pick up his calloused words. “Pull yourself together, this is embarrassing.”

As she usually does, your mother brings the attention back to herself. “She can be a bit much at times, so I hope you’re a patient one!”

The guards exchange questioning looks, silently asking one another if they should intervene this time. Most of the time they follow Tolya and Tamar’s steps but they’re left to their own devices on this day as Nikolai ordered the twins to take a day off. Perhaps it’s for the best - they’d surely escalate this already uncomfortable situation but it’s only because they care.

“I’d say it’s quite the opposite,” Nikolai answers, unaffected. Despite his speaking to your mother, he’s looking into your eyes. “I can never get enough of her.”

“For most of her life, I thought she’d never get married!” your mother continues. She’s gripping your arm with much more strength than her appearance suggests. “Men don’t like them independent, stubborn and opinionated.”

Nikolai’s polite smile doesn’t falter. “Three qualities of an excellent Queen.”

Your mother laughs obnoxiously. “Just wait a few years, dear.” She pats his shoulder. The guards look between themselves again. “You’ll be quick to send her off just like we were!”

Both of your parents laugh wholeheartedly while you and Nikolai exchange knowing looks. Now he understands why you have been so uneasy lately. This is going to be the longest three days of his life.

The perplexity continues as your mother suddenly places her hands around your waist, examining your torso in great detail. A sour expression forms on her face.

“Oh, honey, you’ve let yourself go,” she says in a worried tone. Her eyes trail the curve of your physique up until she looks at your face. With a serious glint in her eye, she advises you under her breath: “You can’t get fat and slobby if you want to keep the king.” 

The man who announced your parents appears again but this time he walks all the way to the stairs leading up to the throne, although doesn’t dare climb them. His facial expression borders on emotionless and serious as though he’s more of a marble statue rather than a servant.

“Your most royal Highness.” The man bows deeply. “The room is prepared.”

“Excellent.” Nikolai uses the opportunity to cut the awkward conversation short in a diplomatic way. “Escort our guests to their chamber.” 

“Right away, мой царь.”

When the butler disappears around the corner with your parents apprehensively following him, Nikolai looks at you with a grim expression. 

“Are they usually like this?” he asks, disapproval hiding between his words.

“They’re worse at home,” you answer with a shrug. A lot of terrible feelings and thoughts you were convinced you had left behind are coming back and you’re unsure how to handle that.

“You’ve put up with this kind of disrespect for your whole life?”

“It’s not disrespect, just…” you hang your voice looking for the right expression, “tough love. They don’t mean any harm.”

“Don’t mean any harm?” he repeats in disbelief. “They’ve been here for fifteen minutes and they are yet to say something nice to you. Neither of them even asked whether you’re doing alright.”

A short, troubled sigh leaves your lips. Your fingers trail the golden embroidery decorating his kaftan. “I’m married to a dashing, handsome king and live in a palace. I think they know I’m doing well.”

His hand gently grabs yours, keeping it against his chest. “As much I like flattery, especially coming from you, you can’t pull wool over my eyes, love. It’s not a matter of knowing but principle. Remember our wedding? The guests kept asking how you’re doing so much, you kept saying you’re perfectly fine before they even got a chance to ask.”

The memory elicits a chuckle from you. Yes, everyone seemed to be preoccupied with making sure you were happy and satisfied. It came to such a point, you yelled at Nikolai’s cousin ‘Yes, I’m fine!’ before she gave you a weird look and asked if you wanted some vodka mixed with your champagne. Truly, the only royal thing about Marina is her ungodly fortune but maybe that’s why you’ve grown to like her a lot - she’s down to earth and easy-going.

Nikolai squeezes your hand in a gentle, reassuring manner. “Just say the word and I will personally throw them out.”

“Kolya!” You gasp at his offer but it quickly turns into laughter. “They’re my parents and your in-laws!”

“They also refuse to show care and respect towards my beloved Queen.”

That mellow, loving look in his eyes nullifies any annoyance you might feel at his stubbornness. You pull your hand out of his grasp and place it on the side of his face. Consciously or not, he slightly leans into your touch. “I appreciate your concern.” Not minding the guards in the room, you’ve grown used to their constant presence, you peck his lips shortly. “But they have just arrived. You’ll warm up to them.”

Nikolai doesn’t answer at first. He only reconnects your lips, kissing you deeper, more desperately. When you feel his hands coming up to your waist, you lean away from him. For a moment, you swear you can see a grimace of dissatisfaction on his face.

“Be decent,” you reprimand him but the wide smile you wear so well rids your words of all seriousness.

“You started this.”

“And I will finish if you play nice.”

Nikolai takes a rather long step back, away from you,  just to make a point. He’s standing with his hands behind his back, an excited grin on his face. “You make an exquisite diplomat, you know that?”

“I learned from the best.”

The time for dinner came faster than you wanted it to. Anxiety bubbled inside your chest again. Still, you continued trying to soap up your eyes with thoughts that maybe when they sit across the table from a king, they’re going to withdraw their little jabs at you. As they say: Hope is the mother of all fools. And you’re about to learn that.

Nikolai raises his cup with wine. “A toast to our beloved Queen,” he announces in an official tone. Out of the corner of his eye, he spares you an adoring look. “Without her, I’d be a lonely, perplexed king. May we not know the world without her.”

To your horror, your father decides to join him. “May she get a grip and come to her senses.”

The dry wine tastes even more bitter as you take what’s supposed to be a celebratory sip. What if he’s right about you? It’s only the beginning of the evening and you already wish you can miraculously vanish or, worst case scenario, just run away. 

You’re about to take a bite of the roasted pheasant on your plate when your mother looks at you with raised eyebrows. She points her fork between you and the plate. “Should you really be eating all of this?” 

You don’t answer her. Whatever you say will only egg her on. Get a grip, you scold yourself and clench your fist to push fingernails into the sensitive skin of your palm. The pain is distracting, grounding.

 "You know, sweetheart, you're not getting any younger,” your mother continues. She always does that - throwing poignancies one after another and seeing what sticks. Now, when she’s literally the mother of the queen, she’s even bolder than before.

“Mother-”

“Don’t interrupt me.” She points her knife at you. “All I’m saying is as a wife, especially the queen, you have only one duty and you shouldn’t wait with it. Things will only get more difficult as you age.”

Nikolai gives your mother a bright smile. “Have no worries,” he cuts in. “We’re not waiting.”

You almost drop your fork. Flustering people is definitely one of his strategies but must he really involve your sex life in his word games? Although mortified at his bluntness, you must admit it works - your mother’s face is about the same shade as the roasted tomatoes on her plate. She casts her eyes downwards, poking at the food in front of her.

The air is filled with awkward tension but Nikolai doesn’t seem to mind in. In fact, he looks quite proud of himself. You, on the other hand, aren’t as good at putting up a believable front.

“So,” you begin in hopes of easing the atmosphere”, how are things back in…” You hang your voice. You were about to say ‘home’, only to realize that it would be an honest lie. The little town where you grew up hasn’t been home in years. “...Tamboyevka?”

“Oh, you know,” your mother says as she makes a dismissive wave with her hand. “Same old, same old. Cattle and field, nothing interesting to someone of your sort, I presume! There’s never been much use of you anyway.”

Listening to your mother’s condescending words, you push your fingernails further into the skin of your hand to distract yourself from the feeling of shame that continues to grow inside your stomach and pull you down with it. Maybe the marble floor will swallow you whole in the next few minutes and all of this will be over.

Then you feel Nikolai’s warm hand sneak between your palms, breaking up your painful distraction. He leans towards you ever so slightly and whispers:

“I’d much rather you pinch and scratch my hand than hurt yourself.”

You look at his concerned face. Words of reassurance, ‘Don’t worry, I’m alright’, nearly push past your lips when your father chimes in, continuing the conversation.

“But your brother, he bought some land down south,” he announces with excitement.

“More land?” you ask. “Ha barely manages with what he already has.”

The memory of your brother’s tired, grey face flashes before your eyes. Every time you see him, he looks even sicker than before as though he never sleeps or eats, only works in the field. He even collapsed on one July day and your parents kept saying that this is a sign of an honest, hard-working man but you weren’t as quick to call a man throwing up everything he eats ‘healthy’.

“You know how he is, always helping others.” Your mother is beaming with pride as if she’s the one doing the farming. “His crops feed two villages and it’s not nearly enough for him! Said he wanted tomatoes and citruses.”

Then it hits you. It’s not a revelation in any way but rather something you don’t think about too often - most of Ravka doesn’t get fruits in winter, especially the ones growing in warmer climates near the Shu Han border. And you not only can easily get it even when snow covers the grassy fields but you’re essentially fed it. Like that one time, you shared a tangerine with Nikolai while sitting in front of a fire, talking about unimportant things.

Despite your mother sitting right in front of you, her voice echoed in your head as though she’s a phantom haunting your thoughts and not a real person: Selfish. Spoiled. Entitled. Ungrateful. People starve because of you.

You focus on Nikolai’s warm, rough hand that’s still holding your own. The pleasant sensation is gradually grounding you, pulling you out of your head and into the present moment.

“What for?” you ask as casually as you can, not giving in to the spiralling thoughts. It still feels like you’re underwater, desperately gasping for air as your lungs burn. Squeezing Nikolai’s hand, you break the surface of the vicious tides trying to drown you in panic and shame.

Your mother, on the other hand, appears completely oblivious to your plight. “Some child told him they’d like oranges and he couldn’t say no. He’s wonderful, truly. A living Saint! What a blessing to call him my son. You should take a serious cue from him, young lady.” She waves the tip of her knife in your direction again. “But enough about your brother. What do you do when you’re not wasting time? Lay around and smell nice?”

“Well,” you swallow nervously, already knowing that she won’t be satisfied with your answer, “I meet a lot of people, take correspondence, travel across the country or read if I find the time.”

Nikolai must notice the telling crease of disappointment between your mother’s eyebrows. He joins the conversation under a skilful facade of a proud, boasting husband. “Don’t sell yourself short, love. Our Queen,” he puts strange stress on the title, “has started a scholarship for disadvantaged children, takes the time to teach young girls sewing, foreign languages and arithmetic.”

“That’s quite useless, isn’t it?” your mother looks between you and your father, not acknowledging Nikolai’s presence. She keeps stabbing the roasted pheasant on her plate with a fork as though there’s still life inside the poor poultry. “Shouldn’t you try harder?” she hisses at you. “If you continue being this lazy, the whole kingdom will fall apart! What will our neighbours say then?”

Nikolai suddenly gets up. He’s still holding your hand but you can’t be sure whether he’s doing that on purpose or if it’s just an unconscious reflex. The candlelight from the crystal chandelier cascades off his face, pronouncing the clenched muscles of his jaw - he’s angry and barely holding it in.

“Our meeting at this table is adjourned,” he announces in a firm voice. “This is beyond unacceptable. I have overlooked your transgressions simply because of your affinity to my wife. Still, I am disheartened and disappointed with the way you address your queen in her own home. The guards will escort you back to your chambers.”

You hear your mother and father trying to argue and protest, saying something about you being ‘too proud’ and ‘forgetting your place’ but you’re so dumbfounded you can’t make out the details. The guards lead them out of the dining room through one of the tall pairs of doors. When they close behind them, everything goes silent - the brick walls muffle any turmoil your parents might be causing.

Suddenly, your throat constricts. It’s hard to take a breath. Has it always been so hot in here? The tips of your fingers tingle, blood never reaching them.

He threw them out and you didn’t say anything. If they didn’t hate you before, they surely do now. You’re a disappointment, not their child. They haven’t done anything wrong, after all. You’re no good, useless, ungrateful, dramatic.

Suffocating with panic, you run out of the room through a different pair of doors, across the dining hall from the ones behind which your parents had recently disappeared. You hear Nikolai’s footsteps behind you but they are muffled by the noise of bloodflow ringing in your ears.

“Hey, talk to me,” he calls out in a soft voice. You turn around to look at him. His hand is almost at the height of your shoulder but it momentarily drops as though he just backed out from touching you. “What’s going on?”

For a man as smart as him, that’s a really stupid question.

“Why did you do that, Nikolai?” you snap at him.

His eyebrows furrow slightly. A gasp of disbelief brushes past his lips - he clearly thought the two of you were on the same page. “They were insulting you over and over again. I couldn’t just sit and listen to that.”

Truly, you should have expected that. He’s been adamant about standing up to your parents from the very beginning. Still, you’re angry that he just had to be stubborn and do the one thing you explicitly asked him not to do.

“What happened to laugh at insults? Isn’t that your own advice?”

“It is.” Nikolai finally finds it in himself to place his hands on your shoulders. “But I found myself unable to remain collected when the bitter words were aimed at you.” His palms brush against your dress and the skin of your neck until they’re cradling your face.

“I can,” you state firmly. “You should have let me handle this, I’m used to this.”

You escape his loving grasp and he lets you. Walking forward away from him, you’re not quite sure where exactly you’re heading. ‘Away’ would be a lovely direction but quite impossible when you’re confined to those four walls of marble and gold.

“You shouldn’t be,” Nikolai calls out after you.

Suddenly, you halt. You look at him around your shoulder. “What?”

“You shouldn’t be used to being treated like this,” he says in a defeated tone while walking towards you again. “They just keep putting you down, humiliating you. You’re not even slightly upset about that?”

“Of course, I am but…” you hang your voice, finally questioning your own feelings towards your parents. “It’s unfair for me to be angry with them. Ungrateful. I never went hungry or cold. They gave me medication when I was sick and made sure I went to school. Every year they’d give me something for my birthday. Neither of them has ever raised their hand against me. They’ve done all they could to give me a good life. Who am I to complain?”

“You’re the Queen,” he drones the word. His hand holds the side of your face again, thumb lovingly brushing your cheek. “People say your name in the same breath as the names of all the Saints. When I don’t know what to do or what decision to make, I always ask myself what you would do. And I’ve never once regretted that. There are important people who have agreed to my invitation only after hearing that you’ll be there too. You change everything. So you get to be angry when someone refuses to see that. I know you can take a few mean words but I don’t want you to.”

For a moment, the two of you stand in comfortable, intimate silence. Your absent gaze is stuck to the floor as you’re pondering his words. Whenever you’re about to accept that maybe, just maybe, you’re doing something good and important, the voice of your mother echoes inside your head: ‘Vain’. But Nikolai wouldn’t lie to you, would he? At least not in those circumstances.

“Can you keep a secret?” he speaks up quietly, bringing your attention back to him.

“Don’t tell me you put a wild racoon in my parent’s bedroom,” you joke, surprising yourself at your newly-found humour.

He scrunches his nose. “Alright, can you keep two secrets?” The echo of the empty halls carries your bright laughter. “To be honest, I wanted to marry you the moment you argued with me about stealing that merchant frigate in Kerch.”

“I could tell,” you answer with a slow nod. “You had a really stupid look on your face, all dazed and absent. In fact, you wore the same one on our wedding day.”

Nikolai’s lips turn into a playful smile and he’s about to say something definitely smart and smooth but a servant interrupts him:

“Your most royal highness,” she says nervously as she curtsies, “your mother wishes to see you. She seems thoroughly upset, if I may say so.” Judging by her fearful, wide-open eyes, she must have gotten a taste of your parents' hurt ego.

Anxiety once again floods your mind. Maybe you should go, apologize and pray they won’t go on a tirade about ‘raising you differently’. But then you hear Nikolai inconspicuously but meaningfully clear his throat.

‘You’re the queen’, his voice echoes in your head. A queen doesn’t cower and bow her head, does she?

“Tell her I don’t take visitations tonight,” you order the servant.

“Right away, моя царица.” She can’t hide the waver in her voice. Judging by her already fearful demeanour, she can guess quite well what will happen the moment she relays the information.

Yes, you will have to warn your parents that they actually can’t hurl insults at your servants. It’s going to be challenging, yes, but this newfound confidence is a ferocious beast, driving you to own up to the title of the queen - not in the way your mother and father want you to but in a way that you need to.

“Oh, one more thing.” The girl immediately stops and turns around at the sound of your voice. “Make sure they don’t leave their wing until either of us says so. I don’t want them wandering around my home.”

“Of course, my Queen.”

The servant bows again and leaves the two of you in a rushed step. Nikolai waits until she disappears around the corner to let his hand drop to the small of your back. He leans in close, indecently so. “I love it when you get all commanding,” he whispers against your neck.

An airy laugh leaves your lips as he pecks the soft skin behind your ear.

____

мой царь [mo-ee tzar] -> my tsar/king

моя царица [mo-ya tsa-ree-tsa] -> my tsaritsa/queen

[brooooswriting]

Do you think you could do a part two to the tutors to lovers leighton fic absolutely loved it 😍 no pressure though xx

Tutors to lovers 2

“Y/n y/m/n y/l/n” your mothers voice suddenly rang.

Gosh you were fucked.

You and Leighton quickly pulled away, trying to fix whatever you could before turning to your mom. “Mom, what are you already doing here?” You asked hectically, your voice wavering.

“I should be asking you that. What are you doing here making out with that blondie? This is the reason you’re failing y/n” she said, her voice harsh as she took a step towards you. You were used to them being disappointed in you but it wasn’t often that they said it out loud like that. Leightons phone rang again and you gave her a nod to signal that it was okay if she left. She was reluctant but still did as it was her father calling.

“Mom please, she’s to only re-“

“No! This is not ok y/n and we are going to talk about it once your father is here. I am very disappointed in you” you sighed and gave her a nod. By now you were happy that Leighton left, unknown to you she could still hear every word your mother said. Luckily other students and their parents filled the room before your dad came. “We are going to sit down. Your father will join soon” your mother said making you nod and walk up to your place.

Not long after the blonde came into the room followed by her parents. You could feel your mom’s eyes on her, an annoyed look on her face when she realized that the blonde would sit next to you. Her parents gave you a warm smile and greeted you with a hello which you quickly returned. Leighton send you a comforting smile, shifting so her thigh was touching yours to give you some comfort. A couple of minutes later your father joined, followed by some whispering between your parents and then a disappointed look from your dad. It was obvious that she told him what she walked into making this weekend an even bigger hell. Throughout the whole lecture your parents nagged you. ‘Why didn’t you know what?’ ‘Why didn’t you say that?’ ‘This was literally so easy’ ‘Didn’t you learn anything?’ And even if you said something they played it down, ‘your sister was able to do that in 9th grade’

Leighton in contrast was extremely proud of you, it may have taken a while but you finally understood the topic. “You did great” she whispered into your ear, her hand finding yours for a moment. This interaction alone gave you new energy to deal with your parents and their disgusting behavior. Once the lesson ended it was time for lunch in the cafeteria, another nightmare of yours.

“So, do you have any friends?” Your dad asked, even though it was more rhetorical you decided to answer.

“Yes dad, I do. I’m not some weirdo” you walked in front of them, leading them towards the cafeteria. As soon as all three of you had food, you walked to your usual table. On the way there you stopped at Lila’s, caneens, Willows, Jenna’s and some others just to show your parents that you had a lot of friends. You couldn’t help the smile that came onto your face when you saw your usual table, Whitney, Bela, Kimberly and obviously Leighton, sitting there with an annoyed look on their face. Each of them trying to tune out their parents.

“Those are your friends?” Your mother’s voice was clearly portraying her emotions which made you sigh again. Probably the 100th time today. You gave them a nod and settled next to Whitney, opposite from Leighton.

“Oh, you sat next to Leighton in math just now right?” Henry asked once he looked at you, a friendly smile on his face. You smiled back and nodded at him.

“Yeah, I’m y/n. She’s actually the only reason I’m passing that class, she’s so smart” you send both of them a smile before pushing your food around. Normally you were more than happy with cafeteria food when it was build your own pasta bowl day, but your mother had made a comment about your weight just before lunch.

Leighton send you a quick text asking if you were alright as you didn’t eat, her face full of concern as she looked up at you. You only gave her a nod with the best smile you could muster.

“You shouldn’t wear this top, it looks terrible” your mother suddenly said making everybody at the table look at you. You only gave her a nod, to scared that you’d cry if you talked, before standing up and leaving the room. The blonde waited for a moment before excusing herself ‘to get another water’ but it was no use. She couldn’t find you anywhere and when she texted you, you told her that you’d be back shortly.

And you were. Fifteen minutes later you came back, dressed differently than before and new layer of makeup on your face. You sat back down giving everybody a small smile, trying to act as if nothing had happened. But all of them knew, they weren’t stupid and they wished that they could do something. “We should go. We have another event planned” your parents said and stood up, giving you an expecting look which made you stand up too.

“I’ll see you later” you told the rest turning back to your parents “I’ll just use the restrooms real quick” they nodded and told you that they would be waiting in the room of the event, not caring about walking with you. You sighed once you entered the bathroom, happy that it was empty as it gave you some space. You’d have never thought that your parents could make you feel even worse than they already did all those years, but here they were destroying everything new you had and humiliating you in front of your friends, and even worse Leighton. As you stared into the mirror new tears formed in your eyes. You hectically wiped them away when the door open just to reveal the blonde.

“Hey, I just wanted to see how you’re doing” she said as you turned towards her, your back against the sink with your hands resting on top of the cold surface.

“I’m good, thank you” it was a good lie, everybody would have believed it. With a family like that you had gotten good at faking and lying. But after spending hours on hours cramped up in a dorm or in the library there was no way that you could lie to Leighton, especially after you tried many times just to stop the tutoring. The problem was that, even though she could see past the lie, she didn’t know what to say. All those years she had complained about her family and sure sometimes they could be annoying and rude, especially her mother but they were nothing against yours. Plus, her mother showed that she could change, she was happy for Leighton when she came out and supported her when it came to the decision that she wasn’t joining kappa.

She looked at you for a moment before deciding that there was nothing she could say that would even out what your parents said. So she instead leaned in to kiss you, pulling you closer to give you comfort. It helped, a lot. The closeness to her gave you new energy, you just had to wait until your parents left again so you could be happy again. It was as easy as that. That’s atleast what you tried to tell yourself. She only pulled away when there were footsteps in front of the door. “My parents want to invite you and your family to have dinner with us tonight, we are going to the fanciest place in town. So I’ll come over and help you choose an outfit when our parents go back to the hotel ok?”

You didn’t have it in you to have a discussion, so you only nodded. “I should go now before they kill me” you pressed a kiss to her cheek and went to the building next door, trying to find your parents in the sea of people. Sadly, you found them rather quick and sat down.

“The Murray’s found us” your dad started the moment your ass touched the chair, “they invited us to dinner. Great. As if we haven’t already spend enough time with them.” You decided not to say anything, everything you said they’d use against you.

“We want you to break up with that blonde” your mother added moments later making you freeze.

“What? No way. Why would I?”

“Because she’s bad for you. You’re failing” you could only shake your head, it amazed you how they would never listen to you.

“She’s the reason I’m not failing, mother. She tutors me and now I’m got from an E to a C and the prof said that if I keep up the work I’ll easily get a B and he’d give me some extra work that will get me an A. Than I’d have a gpa from 3.8. What more do you want?” You argued. There was nothing else you could do to please them any more. You’d never be enough for their standards.

“Don’t talk to your mother that way” you couldn’t believe it. Of course that was the only thing he heard, not the fact that you had a great GPA or the fact that you found a smart, loving partner. No, only that you weren’t 100% nice to your mom.

4 hours later, you walked into the restaurant immediately seeing the table filled with your friends and their parents. You were clad in a suit like outfit that Leighton had chosen, the colors matching what she was wearing. “Hello everybody” you said and sat down between the blonde and Kimberly’s mother.

“Ah, great to see you y/n. Where are your parents? Still waiting for the valley?” Belas dad asked, receiving an elbow from her mother.

“Uhm, no. They said that they couldn’t make it, sorry” you mumbled, fumbling around with the sleeves of your top. It was embarrassing but you felt like you would disappoint the rest if you didn’t show up.

“Well, I for one am very happy that you’re here. You’re such a nice young lady” Kimberly’s mother said, her hand squeezing your shoulder in a comforting manner. The rest of the table nodded in agreement making you blush a bit.

“Thank you very much Mrs. Finkel, that means a lot to me” the woman talked with you for a bit before you guys decided to order. While you waited you talked to everybody at the table, it felt like a big family. Something you had always wished for. Just as Evette asked you something you saw your parents walk in. And sit at another table. You swallowed heavily before quickly focusing on Evette again, hoping that nobody else noticed them.

“So, y/n, any suitors?” She concluded before looking at you expectantly. You opened your mouth, unsure of what to say until you felt leightons had squeeze your thigh.

“Actually, I’m dating Leighton” you gave them a smile as you intertwined your hands together and placed them on your thigh. PDA wasn’t her strong suit and you were fine with that.

“Oh that’s so great. Whitney, why don’t you have somebody like her?” Her mom said causing everybody at the table to giggle. You collected all your courage and looked over at the Murray’s who gave you a warm smile, your shoulders immediately relaxing. You turned your head further to look at the blonde who was already looking at you. You only smiled at each other, forgetting everybody around you for a moment.

Once dinner was finished and paid, all of you walked out. Running into a, to you unknown, tradition. Family pictures. “Alright, Leigh, come on. Fix your hair quickly. We want to take the picture” Henry said, getting his phone out already.

“Oh, here. I can take the picture” you extended your hand, but never received the phone.

“No, you can’t. You’re on the picture. You’re family now” her mom took your extended hand and pulled you next to your girlfriend who smiled brightly. You positioned yourself slightly behind her with a hand on her lower back, while her mother stood next to you. All of you smiled brightly while Bela took the photo.

“Take another one just of them, they look so good tonight” her mother said as both her parents detached from you. A small laugh left you, before you scotched a bit closer to her and soon after you could hear the click of the camera.

“Wait, not that quick. I want one with a bit of action” Bela said, her brows raised which made you and her parents laugh while Leighton hid her face in your neck. If they were your parents you’d probably also be embarrassed but like this is it was quite funny.

“A bit of action” you mocked quietly, causing the blonde to laugh and leave your neck. Instead she turned towards you so she could look at you. Unsure of what to do you just looked at each other until you both smiled. You decided to just take the shot as now everybody was watching you, you quickly leaned in and kissed her softly until you heard the click again.

“So cute” Kimberly’s mom said, earning an agreeing hum from her daughter.

“Let me look” Leighton demanded, scrolling through the hundreds of pictures her roommate took. She stopped at a specific one, smiling slightly. It was the moment you just smiled at each other, you couldn’t lie it was a really sweet and amazing picture which you’d definitely set as your background.

“Alright ladies. The car is there” her father said, opening the door for his wife. They were really cute, you couldn’t deny that.

“Oh, I think I forgot my lipliner inside. I’ll be back in a second” you asked if you should go for her out with her but she denied, saying that you could already get in the car. You waited outside, you felt like it was impolite to already get in. When she came out a couple of minutes later, you opened the door for her and then scooted in after her.

“Thank you for the evening and the driving, that was really nice. And it was really great to meet both of you” you said as all of you got out of the car. They really took you in today.

“We can only say the same. We are sorry for how the rest of the day went, but we are happy that you ate with us” they both hugged their daughter before hugging you. “We are going to the hotel now, sleep well.” Both of them said their goodbyes before disappearing, leaving you and Leighton on the street in front of the college.

“Wanna sleep over tonight? My roommate is sleeping at the same hotel as their parents” you asked. You had wrapped your arm around her shoulder as you walked back. She immediately agreed, a quiet room with you sounded better than her loud dorm.

It didn’t take long for you two to settle on the couch after changing into some sweats and a hoodie. There was no way to fight of the smile that crept onto your face when you saw her wearing your clothes. Getting them back was out of question though. You were cuddling on the couch while watching some random movie when there was a knock on your door. Reluctantly you both pulled away so you could open the door. “Mom? Dad?” You asked confused to why they were here after leaving you the whole evening.

“Hello. We just wanted to say goodbye” your father said, not really looking into your eyes. He was more focused on watching something behind you.

“And we wanted to say sorry. We treated you poorly and shouldn’t have said the things we said” your mother added. They weren’t a hundred percent honest but it was more than you imagined.

“Well, thank you. Have a save ride home” you said unsure of how to react. You definitely weren’t going to say that it was okay cause it definitely wasn’t.

“Goodbye y/n, goodbye Leighton” that was what really shocked you. Them saying goodbye to her was a mystery, a couple of hours ago they wanted you to break up with her. Confused you settled back on your previous spot on the couch.

“What was that?” You asked, your brows furrowed.

“Well, who knows” you immediately recognized a weird pitch in her voice. You studied her face carefully before deciding that something was off.

“What did you do?” She grinned up at you guiltily.

“I may have had a talk with them at the restaurant. And before you get mad at me, I couldn’t let them treat you like this. You’re such a Valuable acquisition to all of our lives and they were making you feel bad about your whole life. It sucked and they shouldn’t be able to do it without consequences” she explained, sitting up so she could look at you. She could be overprotective of the people she loved and she was kinda scared that she’d scare you off with it, but she was utterly wrong. You couldn’t help but admire her.

“That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you love” you pushed her chin up with two fingers before pressing multiple kisses to her lips. She really was the whole package and you wouldn’t change her for anything. “Nobody ever made me feel so good about myself” you added with a smile before standing up and extending your hand. “Come on, let’s go to bed” you smirked. She was up faster than you could realize, pulling you into your bedroom.

Gosh, you were so in love with her.

[ponyosmom35]

birthdays

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability chapter thirty three

synopsis: reader celebrates Simon's birthday, refusing to let him ignore his day.

Liability series

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains as Simon awoke to find himself alone in his apartment. It was his birthday, a day he had become accustomed to treating like any other—without fanfare or celebration, as there were no family or close friends to share it with.

As he wandered into the kitchen, expecting just another ordinary day, hoping to get through it as painlessly as possible. Simon was met with a heartwarming surprise. She was adorning the room with colorful balloons and carefully setting up a beautifully decorated cake on the table.

Simon couldn't help but stare, a mixture of confusion and delight playing on his features. "love, what's going on here?" he asked, a touch of panic in his voice.

Turning around with a beaming smile, she exclaimed, "Happy birthday, Si!"

His eyes widened as he took in the sight. Balloons of all hues danced in the air, and the aroma of the freshly baked cake filled the room. Simon felt a lump forming in his throat as he struggled to find words.

"love, I... I didn't expect..." he began, the vulnerability in his voice apparent.

She, sensed his emotions, cut him off with a surprised yelp. "I wanted your day to be special, Si."

As the realization sank in, Simon's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Thank you, baby," he managed to say, the weight of her gesture lifting the familiar darkness that shrouded his birthdays.

She approached him, wrapping him in a warm embrace. "You deserve all the happiness today and every day. So my first gift to you is that I am all yours all day, whatever you want to do, we do!"

Touched by her understanding and kindness, Simon nodded, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude. She encouraged him to unwrap his gifts, each one carefully chosen to reflect his interests and passions.

The first package revealed a soft, stylish sweater. "I thought you might like something cozy, the winters here can be rough" she said, a twinkle in her eye.

Next came a set of sleek cooking knives and a 'kiss the chef' apron. "For your culinary adventures," she remarked, knowing how much he loved to cook.

A pair of high-quality running shoes followed, acknowledging his commitment to staying fit. "I saw your running shoes and noticed how sad they looked, so I did some research and saw a lot of really good reviews. So you’ll have to try them out and let me know if they work" she added with a playful grin.

As the gifts continued, Simon's heart swelled with love. A massive package of his favorite Oreos, a fancy bottle of olive oil, and a handcrafted crochet blanket for the cold nights on base—all thoughtful reminders of her consideration and care.

The final gift brought a blush to Simon's cheeks as he discovered intimate Polaroid pictures of her. "A little something personal," she teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"love, these are... wow," Simon stammered, both surprised and touched.

She smiled lovingly. "Happy birthday baby!"

She grabs his arm and stands on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. In that moment, surrounded by love and thoughtful gestures. He was unsure how to react, never seeming to be able to find the words to express how much it meant to him. As he looked down at her she smiles “I know” 

She responds, as if she could read his thoughts. Confirming that he didn’t need to say anything. He picks her up and sets her on the counter, he kisses her gently and pushes a strand of her hair behind her ear. “So you said we can do anything I want?”

“I did yes”

“Lets play a game” he murmurs against her lips

“What is it?”

“Simon says” he smirks

stay tuned for part two, simon says (18+)

[arafilez]

☆ ⼂ ALL FOR LOVE ﹗

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ skz ot8 x any reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤfluff, specific aus for every member 𓏧 alternatively where they ask you out on valentine's ㅤ warnings pet names ㅤ﹢ㅤ1k per member ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ og request ] ⋆ friend of a friend/crush skz seeing you read fluff on your phone 🤭💖 - anon. i did change it for valentine's day and made the request a part of the story but not the main one.

◗ ៹ BANG CHAN ›

idol AU! best friends to lovers now playing: sparks fly by taylor swift

Valentine’s Day is stupid! This is the first thought that registers in your mind as you enter the JYP building and see a whole bunch of staff congratulate a couple who you figure got together today. Your pace quickens courtesy of another urging text from Chan lighting up your phone and you groan at his impatience.

Knocking on their practice room door, you patiently await the frisking process before entering it. Your eyebrows scrunch back in confusion when you don’t hear or see anything happen. You knock the second time and nothing! Weird!

Your eyes travel to your phone where the texts from your best friend have stopped coming too, you text him a quick and short sentence about the door not opening. You wait for some more moments before knocking for the third time, and your patience gets better as you twist the room handle.

To your surprise, it opens easily and your frown visibly. Your eyes stray around the dark room as you place your foot in and turn on your phone's flashlight. But before you can do that, the practice room lights up and you look up abruptly and gasp loudly at the banner hanging from the ceiling- “L/n y/n, will you be my valentine?”

“What the-" your voice trails off taking in the low lighting bouncing off the red walls of the room and traces over the rose petals on the floor.

“Will you be my valentine?” You scream in surprise at the voice behind you and turn to see Chan standing there with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of roses on the other hand.

“You like me?” you speak up, words stuttering a lot more than you would like them to and his dimples appear as he smiles saying, “Yes, idiot I do.”

You like Chan, in fact, you like him a lot, to the point where pining over him is painfully obvious to everyone else. But Chan could not know that because he is oblivious enough when it comes to you. Your confusion must have been visible on your face because Chan promptly answers, “I know because I caught you reading a fluff fanfiction the other day during our practice.” A short pose follows and he continues, “About me. And after that, it wasn’t tough to interpret.”

Your face falls, he laughs at your endearing expression, and you whisper, “How?” You are very careful while reading fan fiction and never slip up. Not that you are regretting it right now.

“Mirrors reflect your screen, love,” he smiles, his eyes crinkling into half-moons and you pout in realisation. You look up and suddenly get shy and overwhelmed. The flowers, chocolate, decorations and the day itself come rushing back to you and you realise your best friend has asked you out and you have kept him hanging for the last ten minutes.

“I,” your breath falters before you muster a weak and small, “Yes, I will be,” before happy tears roll down your cheeks. Great, now you are crying like the emotional shit you are.

“Oh baby, don’t cry,” Chan hugs you grinning lightly and placing a kiss on top of your head and you croak, “These are happy tears, Channie.” His laugh vibrates along his body making you happier in his warm embrace, you look up and smile through the glossy eyes and he whispers, “I am sorry it took me so much time to understand, I am so stupid.”

“That you are,” a laugh leaves your throat and he fakes an offended face making you laugh louder and he whispers, “Shut up.” “Make me,” you tease and he chuckles before encasing your lips into a sweet kiss.

◗ ៹ LEE MINHO ›

college AU! enemies to lovers now playing: let me move you by sabrina carpenter

He is beauty, he is grace. He is Lee Minho the menace. Why did you have to pair up with this reincarnation of the devil for a dance project? Your heavy pants echo in the room after you run the practice and look at the clock. Half an hour late!

You know very well he does this to rile you up on purpose because the said boy is the definition of punctuality. He just finds special interest in setting all your nerves on fire. You sigh in annoyance as you plop down on the floor. Scrolling through Instagram you double tap on the posts with every one of your friends posting something with their significant others.

Frankly, you were surprised when Minho asked you to practice with him today. It is Valentine’s Day and according to him his mood will be “sappy” and “tired from fourteenth wheeling his friends” so practising is much better. You have nothing better to do either so you decided to agree.

Which was clearly a mistake.

You scroll absentmindedly before opening up the fanfiction you had left the other day. Resting your head on the wall you put on your ear-pods and start reading. The scene is really cute and you can feel yourself gushing and squealing lightly at the cute behaviour of the leads.

Minho has been watching you quietly gush over it for the past ten minutes loving your giggles. He reads a few lines over your shoulder smiling to himself at the thought of you and him doing it. You seem to like nose kisses and light pecks a lot, he registers as he continues reading from your screen.

You have not seen he has come in and he is thankful as he slides beside you on the floor. You jump up as he rips off one of the ear-pods and slips it inside his ear. All this happens too fast and you squeak trying to hide your phone.

“Lee What the fuck?” you scream but he shrugs you try to snatch back your earpods but he holds your hand saying, “I love this song, finally something you listen to that doesn’t suck,” he grins in a sinister manner and your protest goes to deaf ears as the beats of ‘Let Me Move You’ enters your ears.

Sabrina’s voice fills your ear and Minho glides you to the dance floor in a modern pop couple dance. He twirls you around and you laugh at the cliché steps as he holds you from the back after spinning you. The mischievous smile works its way up on his month and you giggle at the little out-of-routine fun you two are having.

You feel your heart racing as his hands slide down your waist and spin you around he grins matching your smile as you circle your arms around his neck and dance matching the fast beats. The prelude comes and you sway gently and then tap your feet as Minho sings the lyrics lightly making his voice sing-song at the “one, two, three dance with me tonight” line.

Your style matches so well that it makes you feel feral. He really was a great dancer.

The song ends and Minho holds you as you two pant looking at the mirror. The air becomes tense and your heart beats loudly and you blabber out before you can stop yourself, “You have a sweet smile when you are not scowling,” and add, “Not that I see it often.”

Stop talking, your mind screams but you continue, “I don’t like it that much”, liar. Have you noticed him smiling? Yes, the whole ‘enemies’ issue was a huge cliché in your head, and a part of you did hope and pray you would end up like the book couples.

“Yeah I know, you stare at it quite often,” he shrugs nonchalantly and your expression falters in a millisecond yet he never takes his eyes off yours on the mirror and continues, “It is very cliché to like your so-called enemy.”

Your pupils dilate and he chuckles, his soft hair bristling from the cooler of the room and before you can react he spins you and looks at you. Your cheeks grow warm at his intense gaze before he says, “I like you back.”

Your attitude returns with new-found confidence and you reply, “Now who is cliché? Asking me out on Valentine’s Day.” His shoulders shake from the laugh and you grin liking the new dynamic of you two. He dips his head pressing a light kiss on your nose and says, “I am but I can make what you read come true so shh.”

You shyly giggle registering he had earlier caught you reading fluff and pecking his lip you tease him saying, “Don’t make me wait, Lee.”

◗ ៹ SEO CHANGBIN ›

neighbours AU! friends to lovers now playing: dancing in the kitchen by LANY

You stifle a yawn as you struggle to stay awake after a tedious day at work. You curse inwardly at the universe for making you so single. Valentine’s Day and no one to come home to and curl up in their embrace was absolutely cruel however much you try to convince yourself it isn’t.

So when you hear your doorbell ring you are pretty much confused as to who it can be. The pizza you ordered five minutes ago cannot arrive that fast. Walking in your fluffy stickers you open the door and your eyes turn into saucers at the person in front of you.

Your neighbour Seo Changbin is standing there with a pair of CDs in his hand and some clothes in the other. Looking carefully you noticed he also had a single rose under his CDs.

“I know I am fine, but my hands are cramping, so let me in and then gawk all you want,” Changbin deadpans and you quietly let him in the confusion not clearing at all as to why he is here. Shouldn’t he be on a date with someone? Anyone?

“Why are you here?” you ask and he gives you a face before saying, “It is Wednesday, don’t tell me you forgot our ritual.” Your confusion only grows but you still take the rose as he hands it to you saying, “It is Valentine’s Day, I thought it would be rude to not at least bring a flower.”

“Thanks,” you take it, warmth filling your whole face and you look away. Even though he is being really casual about it, everything is just making butterflies flutter in your stomach. Your eyes fall on the CDs and you furrow your eyebrows and it finally hits you.

Oh. Oh.

Changbin, who apparently doesn’t have a date is here to spend his evening with you watching famous movies you haven’t watched before. You two started this ritual because you had randomly blurted it to him and his dramatic ass couldn’t handle you not seeing Mean Girls.

Since then every Wednesday you two watch one famous movie to “catch up” with the generation. You had initially rolled your eyes at his proposal but movie nights with Changbin became better as months went by.

“Don’t think too much and go put these on,” Changbin’s voice cuts in your thoughts and you look down to see pyjamas being handed to you. You don’t question him too much as you go inside and put it on. One thing you have learned is never to question Changbin.

Unless you want to hear a lecture.

You come out and your eyes widen as you realise why he told you to wear those. They were matching pyjamas. Oh. Your body warms up again as you realise you are now wearing matching pyjamas. Like a couple. Watching a movie. On Valentine’s Day. Like a couple.

You throw all thoughts about Changbin liking you behind your mind, he is a friend who helps you out and he is doing the same today. It is nothing much but your beating heart and crush on Changbin fails to live up to your convincement.

You walk towards the couch and watch his muscles flex as he brings the remote and turns on a movie called ‘10 Things I Hate About You’.

Like every other day he turns on the movie but unlike every other day, you find it very hard to focus when there is a whole zoo in your stomach. Just the mere thought of Changbin, who can get any date, spending Valentine’s Day with you is making you go feral. His head whips towards you as soon as you turn towards the screen.

It was a kiss scene. Oh.

You turn your head back to him and find him staring at you with a fiery intensity that you have never seen before. This is new, you think but you don’t miss the way his gaze obviously lingers on your lips before it moves up to your eyes. The air thickens and you hold your breath in mere anticipation.

So it is not only you. The roses and the pyjamas make so much more sense now.

“Changbin, if you want to do it, do it, do it, before we both start to regret it,” you whisper and the last part almost dies in your mouth as he presses his lips to yours. You fist his shirt as his hand caresses your cheek in the soft kiss and you can feel all the unspoken emotion and tension from the past few months.

Heck if you two weren’t so oblivious.

“I have always wanted to do this,” Changbin says, breathless as his lips hover over yours and your eyes hold his gaze and you whisper, “Me too.” He breaks into a grin and you smile lightly running your hands through his hair before he pushes you to the couch kissing you feverishly and the movie long forgotten.

Best Valentine’s ever!

◗ ៹ HWANG HYUNJIN ›

high-school AU! childhood friend to lovers now playing: 2002 by anne-marie

Your lips protrude in despair of your single life as you lean back on your chair and flip through the pages in your phone reading how much one of the leads works throughout Valentine’s Week to get the other lead.

“If you keep reading and sighing you will never get one in real life,” you jump up at Hyunjin’s voice and take a deep breath before deadpanning him. “Shut up,” you tell him and he raises an eyebrow settling down beside you as soon as the bell for first period rings.

The next day your eyes bulge in surprise as a single rose rests inside your locker. You pick it up and see the note attached to it- starting off slow a bit ;).

You narrow your eyes a little at the note and the rose and rack your head for anyone who likes you. The confusion rises when you don’t remember anyone and you suddenly wish it isn’t a prank. You keep the rose inside your bag and the note neatly in your back pocket. Sitting down, you see Hyunjin skip his steps and sit beside you casually whistling and you look at him.

“I got a rose today,” you trail off and he nods saying, “Good to know.”

“No Hyunjin, you don’t get it, what if this is a prank?” you whisper looking around to see if anyone is looking at you two and laughing at your stance. A chuckle escapes his throat as he looks at you saying, “It isn’t a prank.”

You scan his face and tilt your head and Hyunjin quickly amends, “I think.” You shake your head as the teacher enters, still feeling a little down about letting your intrusive thoughts win making you think it is Hyunjin.

The next day you deflate a little seeing nothing inside even though you are vaguely aware it is Propose Day and sigh lightly knowing I might well have just been a prank. Hyunjin seems surprisingly calm about the whole situation, any other time he would have made a whole deal about this and even though it irks you, you brush it off hating the dread in your stomach.

You are proved wrong when you find a box of chocolates the next day, with a note saying- Sorry can’t propose just yet. I hate your sad face, never make it again :(

You open the box hurriedly finding a mix of all kinds of your favourite chocolates and you look in the box, a custom-made one for gifts. Your heart warms at how thoughtful your secret admirer is and how whoever they are, is aware of your preferences. You open the wrap of one and pop it in your mouth, melting at the taste.

The next day you open your locker in anticipation and find a medium-sized teddy inside. Whispers of envy and awe pass through the hall as you lean on the door and read the note- My broke ass could only afford that, sorry. Forgive me?

You scrunch your nose at the cute tone of the letter and you whisper to yourself, “Of course I forgive you.” You skip your steps happily entering your class and see Hyunjin already there doing something with his camera. You stare at him unintentionally, eyes tracing over his flawless features and then feel guilty.

Obviously, someone else is trying to court you now, and you are still hanging over him, your childhood friend. You shake your head again as your mind fills with the possibility of the secret admirer being Hyunjin. No, he cannot be, he hardly seems interested whenever you talk to him about the gifts.

The next three days pass in a blur as your secret admirer makes up for the kiss and hug as a promise for later and you can’t help but feel giddy when Valentine’s Day comes. You try your best to not run to your locker but you end up speed-walking and open it quickly. Your eyes light up at another note from your admirer and you pick it up and read it.

Your brows furrow in confusion at the location mentioned as it was a park you used to go to when you were a kid. With Hyunjin, your mind registers and you push the voice to the back of your mind. Nevertheless, your secret admirer has told you to visit the spot so you will be right at the time mentioned.

The day feels extremely slow and boring and you run out of school when the bell rings. Hyunjin comes out too from his art class with the tube hanging from his shoulders and you hurry him up.

“Geez, what is with the enthusiasm?” he chuckles and you roll your eyes saying, “You would know if you ever listened to me.”

“Listen to you ranting about a person who is head over heels in love with you? I will do it soon,” he smiles and is met with another eye-roll from you as you two start walking. The walk is silent as your mind wanders over a few options on who can ask you out. There was Jongho from music class, Jungmo from Chemistry, Soobin from History, and Han the class president. No, he is after that girl named Alexa.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Hyunjin’s voice snaps you out of your trance but you reply without missing a beat, “A million won and I might tell you something.”

He lets out a light laugh and says, “We are at the place your secret admirer asked you to meet. You get surprised looking around and then the real question comes to your mind- how did Hyunjin know where you were asked to meet?

He can’t know because you didn’t tell him, unless…he is the secret admirer. Your head whips towards his direction and gasp loudly when you see the same paper in his hands. The paper in which the notes were sent.

“Hyunjin oh,” your voice dies down in your throat as you hold it up and a small whimper of emotion leaves your mouth. You open the paper and read the note- We used to play here and I have loved you since the time I knew what love was. Happy Valentine’s y/n

“You- you are, oh my,” your words stumble over and Hyunjin bites his lips smiling at you and you feel the warmth all over your beating heart. It spreads down your body and you find yourself dizzying from the rush of emotions.

“I like you, y/n,” Hyunjin speaks softly and his nose scrunches, his eyes turning into half-moons and he holds you as you look at him with adoration. “I like you too,” you stutter out and he giggles hugging you tighter.

“Now, how about the days we missed?” he speaks softly and you kick him lightly and his giggles tune-up to a full-blown laugh. Just like old times.

◗ ៹ HAN JISUNG ›

royal AU! forbidden lovers now playing: fool’s gold by one direction

The evening sun lights up the sky in hues of golden and red and you sit on the grass in the royal garden opening your book. Being a general for the royal army wasn’t easy, especially for the commander-in-chief. So the breaks you get are the most cherished and thus you prefer to spend them in the garden instead of your quarters.

The peace and quiet, the smell of the flowers, the light buzzing of the bees and the warmth of the sun feel absolutely wonderful as you turn the pages of the book. You giggle lightly at the cute scenes of the romantic novel you are reading and smile when you read about how the leads are absolutely smitten with each other.

“Do not let our enemies see the general giggling like that over a romantic novel,” you turn your head at the familiar voice and raise your eyebrows saying, “Your Highness.”

“How many times have I told you to call me Sungie?” he pouts and you bite your lips restraining your hands from poking his cheeks. He adjusts his hanbok as he sits down and you keep the book beside you to read for later. Right now you have a big baby to attend you. You turn to him and see a pout already adorning his face from the lack of attention.

“What are you doing here, Your Highness?” you ask and he grins, his eyes lighting up as he holds out a flower to you and your eyes widen. “Han, don’t-" You cannot complete your sentence as he puts a finger on your lips and shushes you. You stare at him with parted lips and sigh again.

You cannot be doing this.

He is of royal blood and you are a mere commoner. It doesn’t matter if you are a high-ranking official or not at the end of the day you are not from any kind of royal blood. Heck, the only royal blood you have ever gotten is from killing or hurting royals.

“Since you aren’t saying anything, I will take that as my cue,” you hear him say and before you can protest he gently tucks the flower in your hair.

Your eyes betray every emotion you are feeling when you look at him but Han’s bright smile doesn’t fade as he starts to animatedly tell you how his day went. Apparently, his new History teacher is so boring he fell asleep three times during the class. All while he is talking, you silently listen, your eyes shining with adoration at his enthusiasm.

“Do you know today is what day?” he asks suddenly and you nod. You are aware of different cultures and you read books which doesn’t qualify you as illiterate but Han still asks to be sure.

“You should not be spending it with me Sungie,” you voice out softly and Han lets out a dry chuckle looking away. He doesn’t care, heck he will spend every single Valentine’s Day with you. The rule is to marry a royal blood, there is no rule that it is compulsory to marry.

He will happily stay single his whole life if it means he can spend every day and every night with you.

“I know what you are thinking, but someday you have to see your suitors,” you smile without emotion and just the mere thought of it brings tears to your eyes. How many days have you spent thinking about what will happen when Han finally finds his suitor?

They will marry, that is what will happen.

Han holds your hand and you look at him and he says, “We should run away.” A laugh of disbelief rings through your throat and his mischievous smile returns as soon as he sees you double over in pure and unfiltered laugh at his ridiculous idea.

“That’s how I like you, smiling, for me,” he tilts his head watching you in adoration and you giggle, leaning over to his body and he engulfs you in his arms. Your breath hitches in your throat as you look up and Han does something you have always dreaded and wished at the same time.

“Will you be my Valentine?” he asks and you nod. You know this is wrong, you know you shouldn’t fall for him but when the grin breaks out in his face and you hear his laugh for your affirmation you realise you have never loved anyone more.

And when his sweet lips encase yours you forget every obstacle that will be arising from this blossoming relationship. After all, you can just always run away.

◗ ៹ LEE FELIX ›

brother’s best friend AU! grumpy x sunshine now playing: shower by becky g

Lee Felix Yongbok. The name that is the reason of your doom.

You look at him, your mouth agape as he plays the game in front of him for the thousandth time and still loses. You don’t even know why he is here, your brother left more than half an hour ago with his date. You have been stuck watching him gaming because it is so amusing.

Felix has always been bad at games and it is no secret. It is not like your brother or his other friends were great but watching Felix play a game was more fun than watching a comedy series. Speaking of him, he throws the controller down, a string of colourful curses leaving his mouth.

You had enough.

Sure he looks hot while cursing, and sure his arms flexing as he presses the controls makes you want to do unnameable things to him, or let him do to you, whichever works, and sure his blonde hair makes you want to run your hand over them while you press light kisses over his face, but you finally had enough.

You sign in annoyance when he picks up the controller again and you snatch it out of his hand, yanking open the cable from the plug point and look at him. He smiles brightly when he sees your grimacing face and jokes, “Come on grumpy don’t glare at me like that.”

“First, Jisung left over an hour ago, so what the hell are you doing here?” you hold up your hand when he opens his mouth to speak and then continue, “Second, it is Valentine’s Day, don’t you have anything better to do than play LoL? And thirdly, Felix give up god you are bad at gaming.”

He pouts and you roll your eyes at him. Everyone in your brother’s friend circle how straightforward you are. Jisung has tried to set you up with Felix because according to him you are in desperate need of some “sunshine” in your life.

Fuck him and his sunshine.

He is the reason anyway you think about Felix so much and develop a crush on him. It is purely because of him you think about Felix and whenever he is around you smile, feel like a thousand fireworks going off when he smiles, and do pathetic things like singing love songs in the shower and dancing in front of the mirror.

All the more reason to hate Han Jisung.

“I am spending the day with you, aren’t I?” Felix winks and you gasp at his answer. He casually gets up and you look behind as he pours himself a glass of water and you close your eyes calming yourself. You cannot be more delusional about his casual flirting than you already are.

He walks off to Jisung’s room and you exhale, hating for even being born. The way his words have set your whole face on fire should be researched. Hell Felix can graze his hands casually and you will be firing up for no reason. You open your phone in frustration and scroll until you find a fluff fanfiction you feel like reading.

The reader kisses the person’s freckles.

Cringe.

You will definitely read it.

And do it to Felix, your mind screams and you want nothing more than to punch your mind. You keep reading trying to focus on the story and not think how it is so fitting with Felix.

“For someone always scowling you like reading stuff that makes normal people giggle,” a deep voice interrupts your reading and you jump as Felix slides beside you, still grinning. You hate yourself for how your eyes instantly dropped to his freckles. They looked like stars littered along his cheekbones and you would want nothing more than pressing kisses all over them.

Stop it.

You force yourself to look into his eyes and it doesn’t help a lot since they look like a whole galaxy of stars. How can someone’s eyes hold so much adoration and spark?

“Why are you looking at my freckles?” he chuckles but you can sense the tinge of insecurity behind it and the answer rolls off your lips before you can stop yourself, “If I was yours I would just spend the day kissing them.”

Your eyes widen and you want the ground to swallow you whole while Felix's loud laugh fills the room. You look at him and the way his nose scrunches and soft hair falls on his lashes as he continues laughing and asks, “Is that a line from the thing you were reading?”

“No, stop it,” you whine and your ears, heck, your whole body feels on fire as you look at Felix who is smiling and looking at you. “You say that but you look at me like this,” you pout and it takes all of his strength to not press his lips to yours right then and there.

“Like what?” he asks and you glare half-heartedly but he continues, “If you mean like I am head over heels for you, then yes, I do look at you like that.”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat and you don’t trust your voice too much but you blabber out, “Don’t ask me out on Valentine’s, that’s cliché as hell.”

“I can do all kinds of cliché things for you though,” Felix’s smiles brighten and you feel your heart beating at an unhealthy rate. Is this a heart attack? Will you die now? But his next sentence almost make you pass out if he was not holding you.

His breath mingles with yours as he asks with his lips inches away from yours, “Kissing on Valentine’s is a bit cliché too right?”

◗ ៹ KIM SEUNGMIN ›

roommate AU! friends to lovers now playing: i like me better by lauv

You put on your earphones and sit down on the couch reading the latest update on fanfiction from your favourite author. You place the cup of hot coffee on the table beside and get comfortable on the couch. You check the time on your phone and realise it is still some hours till Seungmin comes home from his practice.

With your lack of a date for Valentine’s, you have decided reading is the best way to solve all your wanted desires and cute scenarios while Seungmin, who claims he also had a lack of date (he didn’t, you literally saw him rejecting people) will be at vocal practice with his friend Jeongin.

You giggle when you read the fluffy scenes, kicking your feet and giggling to your heart’s content. You do not notice Seungmin returning at all and he understands that when you don’t reply when he calls your name. Seungmin runs a hand through his hair as he enters and his confused gaze falls over you sprawling on the couch.

He chuckles at how cute you are behaving and how cute you look in the oversized hoodie. He places his practice bag down, walks behind you and looks at your screen loving how oblivious of his presence. His mischievous side acts up and he starts reading loudly from the line he can see, “He places a soft kiss on the forehead, then traces them down the yes, and the nose, to the lips of-“

Your eyes open wide in shock and you jerk up and three incidents happen at the same time- you scream at Seungmin, one of your earpods falls off and the coffee in your hand spills over your clothes and hand.

You hiss at the burning sensations on your palm and thumb and Seungmin’s eyes widen as he pulls you by your hand. “Min what?” you ask confusedly as he sprints with you to the kitchen sink and throws your hand under the cold water. You look at him in shock, unable to process how quickly the situation escalated.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” he murmurs and his fingers run over your burnt area under the water. Well almost-burnt. The coffee wasn’t that hot and it would not even escalate to a first-degree burn.

“Min, hello to you too,” you joke and he grimaces upset at himself for causing such a situation. You open your mouth to say you are fine but he shushes you and makes you sit on the kitchen counter. He brings down the first-aid box and slightly blows on the region. The action releases a whole cage of butterflies in your stomach and his concerned face over a little harm makes your heart tighten.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean-“ his sentences is interrupted as you put your finger over his lips and say what you have been trying to say for the last fifteen minutes, “Minnie, I am fine.”

“Are you sure? I think we need to give some more ice,” he murmurs but before he can drift away, again, you pull him by his arms against your body. Seungmin stumbles over his feet and you giggle at his confused puppy behaviour before repeating your sentence, “Minnie, I swear I am fine.”

“Okay,” he complies and you laugh before saying, “You are too cute trying to take care of me, you know?” His nose scrunches and he puts his arms around your waist and murmurs, “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

His tugs lightly on your waist and you tip forward getting close to him and your breath hitches at the proximity. His caramel eyes look so beautiful up close that you never want to look away. You can get lost in his eyes. Literally.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispers, the tension thickening as his body presses to yours and warmth spreads over your cheek but you whisper back, “Like what?”

“Like you want to never let me go,” he says and his breath fans your face as you make out the little details of his face. His hold tightens around your waist and you find yourself replying, “Maybe I don’t.”

His eyes roam over your features and land on your lips and that gives you the courage to lean in. Seungmin takes the cue and presses his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. You hum kissing him back as you feel him smiling through the kiss. Your lips move together perfectly just like they fit like two missing puzzle pieces.

Seungmin’s hands caress your waist and you fist his shirt lightly and when you finally pull back a big grin breaks along his face making you laugh along. You sway lightly in his arms and a teasing smile reaches your lips as you ask the cringiest question existing to mankind.

“How about you kiss my wound better too?”

◗ ៹ YANG JEONGIN ›

office AU! co-workers to lovers now playing: silver tongues by louis tomlinson

What is better than working after-hours on Valentine’s Day? Absolutely fucking nothing. You sigh at your unfortunate state and continue typing on the computer finishing up the last slide for your colleague’s presentation who has clocked off as it was Valentine’s.

It was just two slides but you being the perfectionist you were couldn’t just leave it like that and thus completed it fully. After you are finished you huff and lean back on the chair. The creaking noise echoes in the empty office and you look around. Your desk was comparatively closer to the glass window of the building.

That is now giving you the perfect view of the streets decorated with pink and red fairy lights and the couples walking below. The street is buzzing with love and it is making you feel lonely. Another year, another day, you think. It will pass.

Swiping open your phone you quietly check through your notifications, most of them your work emails or bank account reports and sighing you clear them out. You swipe up a few notifications from your friends and some garbage notifications like the weather.

What the hell are you going to do with knowing the weather at eight in the night!

Your eyes fall over a particular notification- the update of a book chapter you have been waiting for. You eye the office once again. Alone. Swivelling in your chair you open your work computer and login through your account in Incognito. Nothing better than reading on a big screen.

You lean back satisfied and read it feeling giddy at the scenes the author has written. The kisses and the hugs are so satisfactorily written you feel literal butterflies reading them.

“Reading stories on a work computer, should I be reporting this?” you jerk up at the familiar voice and are instantly met with a pair of foxlike eyes. His mouth presses together trying to suppress a smile as you tried to hurriedly close the tab in the computer.

When you are done you take a long breath and look towards him and ask, “What are you doing here?” An amused smile reaches his lips but he answers nevertheless, “Came to take some files.” You nod your head but can’t look away from his face. The low light of the office casts a warm glow on his defined cheekbones and a light shade on his dyed caramel hair.

It is not like you and Jeongin were friends, but you weren’t acquaintances either. You two were somewhere in between and given his bright smile and even brighter personality nobody can hate him.

“Don’t you have a date?” Jeongin asks casually still holding onto your gaze and you chuckle shaking your head. Your love life is basically DOA. He sighs in relief unknowingly and before he can stop himself he continues, “Do you want to catch up with dinner?”

You whip your head towards him so fast that he stutters and blabbers, “I mean not today if you are busy, someday later or we can forget I said it.”

Did Yang Jeongin, the man who works in an office with his prim and proper attire, wears glasses, but dyes his hair for style and is the eye candy of more than half the office, ask you out on a date?

“Today’s fine,” you blurt out and you see the red blush spread from his nose to his cheeks. You are sure you are blushing too and you look away trying to arrange the already-made files. Jeongin stutters out an okay and keeps quiet, the awkward silence hanging as you quickly tidy up.

Ten minutes and an awkward elevator ride later you and Jeongin are walking down the decorated streets and attempting small talk which gradually are beginning to loosen you two up. You talk about your favourites and he talks about his own funny incidents, mostly with his older brother Minho.

You two enter a bar and order a drink each simply sitting down. By the time your drinks arrive the loud tempo has reduced to a slow song and you gasp in shock. This is your favourite song. You look at Jeongin who sips on his drink slightly, his glasses resting a little low on his nose and messy hair sprawling over his forehead.

One drink cannot make you tipsy but you blame it on the drink anyway when you ask, “Do you want to dance to this?” If Jeongin is surprised by the request, he doesn’t show it and nods, a small smile creasing up his cheeks.

He takes your hand and you twirl around the dance floor. Feeling a little bolder you circle your arms around his neck and sway to the beats of the song. All the time Jeongin never takes his eyes off yours and you feel yourself flustering under his intense gaze. His eyes trace your features and linger lightly on your lips before returning to your eyes.

The moment is so intense it makes you light-headed and his musky deodorant infiltrating your senses didn’t help at all. As the song finishes, Jeongin is unable to look away but he lets go reluctantly.

You miss his warm flush against your skin already but it returns as soon as he says, “If you don’t mind, do you want to catch a proper dinner tomorrow?”

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's note ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤthis is kind of a personal favourite and even though I have no one to spend Valentine’s with I love being delusional lol. I enjoyed writing these too much and so I would really appreciate feedback and reblogs. my personal favourite is Felix even though he isn’t my bias but it was my first time trying grumpy x sunshine and I loved it so much. Happy Valentine’s everyone ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @jeonghanfr ﹢ beta readingㅤ@kyrjnie @haneagerr ㅤmain mlistㅤ skz listㅤ navi ㅤ add to taglist

© arafilez on tumblr. please do not copy and repost my work as your own.

[elizais]

"an honorary girl!"

chuuya comes to your girl's night chuu x fem reader, no warnings?? summary, chuuya comes to your girls night dividers by v6que

chuuya had come to pick you up from a girl's lunch, and was greeted by your friend group and you in the cafe. "hey doll," he greeted you, taking off his gloves and putting them in his pockets. something he always done prior to holding hands with you.

"hey chuu!!" you smiled as you stood up. you had already paid your part of the bill. your friends smiled at chuuya as he treated you like an absolute princess, grabbing your bag for you.

"oh, y/n! girls night is on for saturday, do you need it to be moved for a different date?" one of your friends asked, and chuuya pretended to act shocked. "am i not invited?" he teased you.

the same friend added, "well, if you bring work gossip and good food and drinks we can consider you being an honorary girl.." the rest of the group burst out laughing as chuuya took the offer. "you bet."

and that was what left you here. telling your boyfriend that fluffy pajamas were mandatory for girl's night. "but we aren't even sleeping around kiyoko's? everyone is leaving at midnight." he argued, not understanding it was crucial to be in fluffy pjs.

"that is not the point, love. it is just more fun in pjs!! at least change in to some plaid bottoms and a graphic tee..." you whined, "okay, princess." he sighed.

the drive over was full of you explaining what would happen. which of your friends will choose the movie today, boy drama, snacks.. all of it!

so, when you arrived that was just what happened. all of the girls seemed to be entertained by chuuya's presence, finding it hilarious he actually turned up.

beauty and the beast was switched on to mindlessly play in the background as chiyo began the gossip. her and her ex had been talking again and was asking the girls (+ chuuya) for advice.

"no, yeah! he just completely blanked me a week ago when we bumped into each other but then he is messaging me asking how my day was? i just don't get it!" she groaned, the group of girls sat in a circle as chuuya sat down after grabbing chips from the kitchen.

he sat next to you as he spoke, "maybe he didn't think how to react when he saw you in the mall?" he suggested. promptly earning a smack to the face with a pillow from you.

"chuuya, boys are stupid. like yeah you're a guy but it's just different! y/n basically trained you as a boyfriend." kiyoko shrugged, explaining why you smacked him.

the other girls hummed in agreement before another spoke through giggles, "chuuya.. do you have any boy drama??" she joked. you knew just how to tease your boyfriend.

"oh, yes he does! tell them about daz-" you rallied before he cut you off. "don't get me started. it started when we were like.. fifteen but that mackerel just doesn't keep himself out of danger!!" he complained.

"who's mackerel?" another girl asked. chuuya answered, "this guy who like i used to be partners with but then he blew up my car so we aren't really on the best of terms.." he began to ramble.

the rest of the night chuuya truly experienced an authentic 'girls night'. a delicacy that cannot be replicated. gasps of shock. food thrown. gossip spread.. he has never seen such a rollercoaster of emotions in the best way imaginable.

[redwineandtarot]

Their thoughts about you before sleeping

hi! hope all of you are doing well. in today's pac we're gonna look at what your specific person is thinking about before sleeping. i read this one thinking about a future relationship of yours. ❗️i did not read for crushes etc. ❗️ take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. i would love to hear your feedbacks <3

⚠️there are some +18 topics in some piles so if you're uncomfortable or if you're under 18, do not read this pac or skip the parts i have marked as +18⚠️

🥀paid readings🥀

Disclaimer: My readings do NOT replace any professional advice. Use your own judgment while making decisions. You have your own free will. Take everything I say light-heartedly. All of my readings are for ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES.

pick a pile

pile 1-2-3

i do not own these pictures

pile 1 (+18 part warning)

They think about making you an offer. Whether it is about starting dating, moving in together etc. They want to offer you something solid. This offer in their mind means so much emotionally to them. They want to offer their heart to you and want you to take their offer. And they want to make you feel safe. They dream about having a balanced relationship with you. 

However they may think that they don't have your trust or interest yet. For example if it's before you guys start dating they think you don't have any interest in them. Or if it's you getting engaged they think you don't trust(?) them enough to say yes. However this is not true at all. They may be too much focused on the “negative signs” you have given them. Which actually was not your intention. They think that they have to work hard to gain your trust/interest. They value you a lot, pile 1.

+18❗️ They may fantasize about giving that offer to you and you accepting. And then you guys have such an intimate, sensual, passionate and emotional s3x. It’s like you guys see each other naked both literally and metaphorically. 

They worry a lot that you will reject them. However they are still hoping for the best. They may think about when is the best time to give this offer. And if you say you need time to think about this offer, I hear that they will wait patiently for you. They have such a cute energy tbh. They are willing to wait for you and work hard to gain your trust pile 1.

They think that you two can build an amazing relationship. They dream about having a relationship both practical and emotional. They see you as their other half.

thank you for reading <3

pile 2

This is a heavy pile. If you don't feel like reading a heavy pile you can pick another one or just look at my other readings.

This is probably around a time where you guys had a fight. And it probably was a big fight. They are so sad and play the fight again and again in their head. They lose their sleep over this. They don't want to lose you. 

They may have regrets about whether they were too fiery in the argument you guys had.

They are thinking about you as a couple overcoming this challenge and putting your relationship on solid ground. They dream about learning from this experience and moving on. 

Maybe you guys come from different backgrounds in some way and because you have different points of views about a thing, you had a fight. They probably think a lot about your words and try to understand you. Because again they don't want to lose you. You are precious to them.

Their emotions are heightened, especially at night. They try to find a way but it seems too foggy for them.

ps. I felt drained after reading your pile. It’s probably because of the energy they exude.

I am sorry pile 2, this reading was shorter than the other piles. I even got extra cards for you but spirit is not showing me anything further.

thank you for reading <3

pile 3 (+18 part warning)

They envision your future together. They dream about having a family with you. Whether the family is you two together, your families combined, having children or having pets etc. 

They dream about a grand wedding. They want something extravagant lol. They really see a future with you. To them you are spouse material. 

For some of you, your person did not choose to have relationships and were like a hermit. For others of you, your person had many relationships like flings etc. Nothing serious. Maybe they had commitment issues or having a stable relationship wasn't their thing. But you showed them something they haven't, so they made the effort to change and became a reliable partner. You made them want to have a family, a stable relationship. But they didn't change just for you but also for themselves. They realized they wanted a stable relationship thanks to you. They may think about how you came and shaked their world before sleeping. The courage you gave them to commit. 

They think that after this marriage a new door will open. And you guys will have new adventures and learn new things together. They may also dream about traveling with you, seeing new places. They dream about their happily ever after. They think how you are the couple that shines. 

+18❗️ For the ones who want to have children, they may fantasize about having s3x with you and you or them becoming pregnant after that session. It would be such a happy thing for them, I heard.

They dream about a balanced marriage. Where both of you are heard and happy. A marriage that broadens both of your visions and makes both of you become better people.

I heard Beyonce singing “I am going to see my husband, my husband, I'm happy, I'm happy” lol. (you can change the husband part to fit you)

thank you for reading <3

[your-absent-father]

Children in writing: my personal pet peeves

Okay, some might know that I work as an elementary school aid, done it on and off since I was 19, so I have the credits lol. Last december I even got my trade school papers for it. I preface this this way bwcause I have worked with shitton of kids, and will in a future. My background also means that I am very quick to notice when people don't interact with kids that much.

Even the savant syndrome kid is still a kid

One thing that annoys the hell out of me is when the 8 year old smart kid character acts like a 32 year old with all the emotional cababilities it entails. Yes, some kids have an higher intelligence, emotional or otherwise, but in the core of them, they are a kid. They get temper tantrums, they are in awe of new discoveries, they love to play in their own way.

For example, the class I'm in now, we have a kid I will call James. James is raised by his grandparents and it shows in everything he does. He is an old soul, always getting striaght As and almost helping the adults in conflicts. James also giggles as I race with him during recess, he sulks like a kid after not getting what he wanted and laughs really hard at fart jokes. He is 8 even if he has an emotional intelligence of an older kid.

Children are sponges, in bad and good

Speaking of James, he is a great example of children being sponges. This 8 year old, he uses terms like "gosh darn it" or "welp, it is what it is", terms I could see his farmer grandpa using. When he is stressed, he poses like a 73 year old looking at a broken tracktor. You can see his grandpa in him clearly.

I want to say it because a lot of people only write like "I am bad because my dad was bad" characters, even though it isn't that simple moat of the time, and children being sponges could be used in so many different ways, and not just bad.

Kids knowing big words doesn't always mean they are smart

This adds into the "kids are sponges" segment. Lot of kids, especially now, pick up different words, some very difficult, but they themselves don't know what they mean. Just today I had to explain what a dictator meant to a kid talking about North Korea. (That is an other thing too I like to add: kids try to explain with their own understandkng of the world what things they don't understand are)

Children's are adults in progress

Thus is a thing that peeves me the most of all, because a lot of people think children are thing entire different entity than adults. I like to explain it in videogame logic, like as a kid you are doing the first levels and progressing trough. You still the same character at the core of it, you just leveled up and got new tricks up your sleeve. Children are humans, they aren't that difficult to comprehend.

kids with disabilities have presonalities

Omg I am such a passionate person towards this, especially because I am specialized in special ed. It annoys me in no end when a special ed kid's presonality is "ehh they are disabled?". Every single special ed kid I have been with have different personalities and likes and dislikes, if they can't show it to you themselves. I don't think I have met two disabled kids (nor adults) with same personalities, even if they have exact same disability.

In the class I am in now, James's best friend is this kid named Jackie. I don't know Jackie's diagnosis but she can't walk straight, and uses multiple walking aids when her legs hurt too bad. She can't talk very well, struggling with her speak. Still, those things weren't the first thing I'd use to describe her. I'd describe her as a dramaqueen, always ready to complain about something, i'd describe her as a sporty, always running after her friends, even if she is much slower than others. I'd describe her as kindhearted, and clingy as she is always ready for a hug. Her disability is n intergal part of her but not everything.

I could complain about this all day. I have worked with kids and adults with disabilities and they have all been do different from each other (like able bodied people). Maybe another post lol.

Okay rant over.

Tldr: Chldren are humans too. Lol

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 29)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (27)

Masterlist (other parts here)

(**Trust the process...**)

Jordan was laughing so hard that YFN worried her protein shake would come up.

“Dory, it’s not funny!”

Jordan tried to talk, sitting up and wiping the tears away with the bottom of her shirt but at the sight of a worried YFN, she was right back at it, rolling around like a bug on her back on the couch. Her laugh had upgraded to a wheezing laugh as she struggled for breath which made YFN finally crack a smile and allow herself a little chuckle with her. She walked over and tilted the back of the couch up, making Jordan fall off and roll onto the carpet in the living room. Not even that stopped her. Not until Blu was getting excited at her laughing and started to lick her face and yap.

“I’m never doing anything nice again.” YFN groaned.

“Ah… Jesus… okay I’m back..” Jordan chuckled, wiping more tears away and managing to pull herself back onto the couch. “If you could see your face though.”

YFN whined. “Who the fuck writes that?! What if I wasn’t even gay? They don’t know anything about me.”

“Leah said she’s sorting it out, yeah?”

“Yeah.. she was really apologetic about it actually.”

“Of course she was. But she’s really good at sorting things like this out, no need to stress. I’m definitely not, but thanks for my daily laugh, I think I wet myself. I’m glad I didn’t take you up on that offer to go instead.”

YFN rolled her eyes. “She wanted it to be you. Besides, they actually know your name. They probably just wrote ‘partner’ because they have no clue who I am.”

Jordan pulled her down next to her and squeezed YFN’s cheek like a grandparent. “But that all changes today, chicken!”

“I’m so nervous!”

“I’m so excited for you! This is going to be great. Plus, your merch is sexy.”

“Free beanie if you pose for a photo for me.” YFN winked.

Jordan slapped her arm. “You’d give it to me for free anyways.”

“You have no idea how excited I am to see you play.”

“Don’t get your hope up chicken, Chelsea are brutal under Emma.”

“Regardless of any of that, you’re still going to be there in your little kit, and I’ll be on the sidelines waiting for a selfie and an autograph. I wish I could wear your jersey!”

Jordan grinned. “I don’t think anyone will blame you for a bit pf favouritism on your first day. I am very cute.”

“Yes.. yes you are. Very cute.” She looked at the time quickly. “Now we both have to go and I’ve had about five hours sleep since my late night drive from London. So… let’s talk about Leah.”

Jordan gave a funny face.

“She was great last night, Dory. She was helpful and chivalrous and so much fun to be around. She also gave really great advice for me about Lucy..”

This interested Jordan. “Oh? What did she say?”

YFN quoted what Leah had said to her about making a mistake by convincing herself it was what was best for everyone when it’s not.

Jordan’s lips moved from side to side while she thought. She could tell she was a little emotional.

“So… she admits it was a mistake?”

“This isn’t new, Jords.” YFN said softly, reaching out to squeeze her hand. Jordan smiled at her using ‘Jords’ instead of her nickname. “I told her that the Leah I see now is not the ‘weak’ woman who left you because she thought she wasn’t enough. She’s stronger now. More mature. She’s learnt her lesson. And… I told her about how we met.”

Jordan’s teary eyes shot up to meet YFN’s. “You told her about the beach?”

She nodded. “Multiple days, hours on end. And a little more… she cried.”

Jordan nodded, as if that would stop her tears forming. She leant back and sniffed also. That seemed to work better. “She really loves me still.”

“She does. Will you talk to her?”

Jordan went into her space and zoned out for a little bit before she nodded. “Yeah, I’ll talk to her.” Then she added in a soft voice, “But I’m scared.”

YFN wrapped her arms around her friend. There really wasn’t much to her at all. “It’s okay, she won’t hurt you. I… may have threatened her.”

Jordan looked up at her in surprise and then amusement. “Did you?”

“Of course I did. She took it well, to be honest.” They chuckled together at that. “Just take it slow, yeah? Take it at your own pace. If it doesn’t feel right, then don’t push it.”

She nodded and took out her phone. She took a deep breath in and wrote out a message, pressing send before she had a chance to backtrack. She looked at YFN and blushed with a smile at how proud she looked at her.

“Your turn, chicken.”

“My turn?”

“Oh come on. Lucy is your person. You need to talk to her eventually because there’s only so much avoiding the topic I can do with her. Besides, if I saw those photos on the internet, then Lucy definitely would have.”

“Oh… oh! You’re right. She’s going to be-”

“So fucking annoyed when she sees them and you haven’t spoken to her.” Jordan cut off with a mum look.

YFN pouted. She was right. It was time to talk to Lucy. If she was being completely honest with herself, it had been incredibly hard. It was like she needed her. Not just her body craving her, but her brain, her heart. Her Lucy. She deserved the chance to talk and explain.

YFN took her phone out under Jordan’s watchful eye and messaged Lucy.

YFN: I’m sorry for taking so long.. I’m really not used to this, Luce. I can’t stop thinking about you. Can we talk?

YFN knew she had no right to be anxious, but she was. It was now five hours later and Lucy still hadn’t replied. Fair enough, she had training. It was MD-1 for her. But still, she was usually better at replying. She looked through the FC Barca stories on Instagram again and saw Lucy looking less cheery than usual in the morning and throughout training. She bit her lip at the sight of the bandage on her left hand that she’d been wondering over all morning. All of the comments were speculative and Barca management hadn’t put out a statement about the injury so her thoughts ran a little too wild and worried.

Cheers erupted suddenly as the players started to enter the field. YFN pocketed her phone and wrapped her arms around her body to protect herself a bit better from the rain. YFN was on the sidelines, her crew spread out around the edges to get photos and videos. It was basically a practice game for them to get used to the best spots, best shots etc and they’d talked about it and planned it thoroughly all week. YFN put her fingers to her mouth and whistled loudly when she saw Jordan walking out in the starting line-up. She flashed her a grin, finding her immediately with her purple and yellow Lumos beanie on. Although the other members of her crew were also wearing the Lumos hoodie, YFN had felt the beanie would be enough and wore Lucy’s hoodie instead. It was comfy and smelled like her. Vanilla and bitter orange.

Although the game was in Birmingham, it was an unfortunate demolition of Aston Villa by Chelsea. Both sides started strong and 11 minutes in Jordan almost collected a nice assist to Rachel Daly who was on fire. She had several attempts, but all seemed to be missing to the left. YFN couldn’t help but groan. She didn’t have a favourite team, but she wanted Jordan to do well. Chelsea were up by 2 at the half-way break, YFN taking the opportunity to round up her team and have a chat. Some of their photos were incredible, and they all spoke excitedly to each other about what angles were working, what lighting and more. There was going to be a lot of footage to edit.

The second half began and within minutes Jordan had a shot on target that was saved. So close. Jordan was subbed off at the 71st minute mark, looking frustrated as she walked off. Chelsea were up 5-0.

It ended 6-0 to Chelsea. 6 goals with 6 different goal scorers, and if that wasn’t impressive enough, they were missing their best striker, Sam Kerr. It was undeniable how good they were. How clinical. There were unbelievable players on both sides, she thought, Rachel Daly unable to be used to potential during the game for Aston Villa. She also loved how Jordan played, which was much more aggressive than she’d imagined, and she wondered if Lucy had encouraged that at all. Jordan seemed to get annoyed easily on the field, but she also managed to pick the ball from players when they didn’t expect it.

When the game was done, a few players from both sides came over for a chat. As she’d said at the pub, they weren’t conducting interviews yet, and so they were just friendly chats with players interested in Lumos. Most players requested photos of themselves to be sent to them, and YFN agreed to this. If they’d post them on their Instagram with the Lumos watermark, that would be a great start.

Jordan wandered over after Millie Bright and Erin Cuthbert had finished their conversation with YFN. She greeted them briefly and almost fell into YFN’s arms. Tired little Dory after 71 minutes of running around.

“I’m your number one fan, Miss Nobbs, will you sign my hoodie?”

Jordan was disappointed at the game but grinned at that. “I’ll do you one better, chicken.”

Jordan removed her jersey and signed it before giving it to YFN who’s mouth had dropped open. “Really?”

Jordan seemed proud of herself. “Really.” She had her arms wrapped around her little body, shivering in the rain.

“Come here!” YFN took one of the Lumos merch hoodies she had and pulled it over her friend’s head. “I know it’s company merch, but you can just hide the logo with your arms if you want.”

“Ohhh it’s so warm.” She said as she pulled the hood up, still shivering. YFN pulled her to her chest and rubbed her back. “Y..Yeeeeees.”

“Comfy, huh? You played brilliantly out there, Dory. I didn’t realise how aggressive you get when you play?”

“Do I?” She asked sheepishly.

“Ohhh yes. Very entertaining. Also, do they not have a kit small enough for you?”

“I’m an extra extra extra small. And no, they apparently don’t. I’ll need a belt for my shorts soon!”

Matt and Ruby appeared then, wide-eyed at YFN holding Jordan to keep her warm. They were both from Birmingham and Matt was an Aston Villa fan. “J…Jordan Nobbs, I’m Matt… hey.” He introduced himself with an awkward hand out.

Jordan was amused by this and shook his hand. “Hello Matt. Did you get any good photos? You were almost chasing us up the boundary line!”

“Oh! I hope it wasn’t distracting. I’m a videographer and I have a few of you if you’d like to see?”

Matt and Ruby showed Jordan the footage they’d gotten for her, proud when Jordan was obviously impressed.

“Oh I think this is going to work out great, chicken.” She said to YFN with a grin.

“We’ll make sure to edit the footage and have it sent to you tomorrow for approvals to post, and for your own use.” She smiled.

“Yes! Please! And I was thinking pizza tonight?”

“I would die for some pizza and hot chocolate in this weather. The crew and I need to go through a lot of editing though before the games tomorrow though.”

“Just bring everyone over! We have room. There’s only eight people, right? I’ll get extra pizza.”

“Wait.. you LIVE together?” Ruby asked.

Jordan looked at YFN and gave a little chuckle. “You haven’t told them?”

She shrugged. “It didn’t seem relevant… but I think that’s a great idea. We’ll all have pizza and do some editing, as long as no one is allergic to Blu.”

“I get to meet Blu?!” Matt asked before he blushed at his admittance that he knew Jordan had a dog.

“As long as everyone is out by 8pm. We need to get some sleep.” Jordan slapped her friend’s shoulder.

“Five of our guys need to get back to London tonight so they’ll all be out early. As for pizza…Joe can shout that.” YFN said with a wink at Jordan.

They’d been through five pizzas and hours of footage and photos when YFN’s phone finally dinged. She’d never picked up her phone so quick in her life. Jordan gave her a look that she missed as the room drowned out and she focussed on her phone.

Lucy: Sorry, little one. Just got home from training. Lost my phone yesterday.

YFN: How are you texting me..?

Lucy: MacBook.

YFN: I was starting to worry.. can we talk?

Lucy: We need to talk, but not over text. I’m not a good texter. Security said a fan found my phone so I’ll get it tomorrow at the game and call you after it, okay?

YFN could tell Lucy had something to say and agreed that it would be best to talk over the phone rather than things being misinterpreted over text.

YFN: Okay Luce.

Lucy: I’ll call you about five-thirty your time. Will you be free?

YFN: Okay, I’ll be driving to Crawley then.

Lucy: You’ll be staying in the London apartment overnight, I hope?

A worried Lucy meant she still cared.

YFN: Is that still okay?

Lucy: I’d be upset if you didn’t. I meant it when I gave you that keychain.

YFN looked down at it. Three different coloured house keys, the car key, and three flags. She bit her lip and remembered the look in Lucy’s eyes when she’d given it to her. It was the best present anyone have ever given her. They had so much to talk about, but most were better off over the phone except one.

YFN: I love it, Luce. How’s your hand?

Lucy: It’s okay. Stupid accident. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, okay?

YFN: Yes, please. Have a good game tomorrow, Luce.

There had been no text from Lucy when she woke, but she’d expected that. Her start to the day was slow as she woke early to pack her bag for an overnight in London. She left before Jordan was even awake, putting her overnight bag in the boot before she got in the driver’s seat. She looked down at the little keyring that Lucy had given her. She’d only realised today that the key colours represented her clubs. The blue key for Manchester represented Man City, the red key for London represented England, and the yellow key for Barca represented Spain and the Barca away kit from 2022. It would be her first time using the keys, and the idea of using them felt a little wrong to her, especially after the previous few days. She felt bad. She played with the little flags before putting them in the cup holder and starting the car.

She arrived at Meadow Park early, glad that her reserved parking space was close so she wouldn’t be so held up trying to get to the end of the Spurs and Everton game. She met up with Bridget and Emily who were a couple, and both Arsenal supporters. It was very obvious, the way they were practically bouncing up and down. Bridget and Emily both did a bit of videography and photography, however it was clear that Emily was better with photographs and Bridget with videography as Bridget was a bit more excitable when it came to chasing players around the boundary lines for videos, whereas Emily was definitely the more shy and level-headed one. They were incredibly entertaining.

As YFN was also present, she would make the most of herself by taking some photos also. As she was setting up her camera, she felt two arms slide around her waist and pick her up in a hug.

“Ohhhh here she is!” Caitlin almost shouted.

“I could pick you up with one arm, chick, there’s nothin’ to ya!” Katie said as she put her back down.

YFN laughed and hugged the pair. They were in their warmup gear, ready to prep with the rest of their teammates who were entering the field. Kyra saw them and ran over excitedly.

“Finally here to watch the Aussies, huh?” She cheered as she leapt onto Caitlin’s back.

“You’re so annoyin’!” Caitlin laughed. Kyra was definitely the little sister of the group.

“I’m a bit worried we won’t be able to keep up with you, to be honest. You’re just too quick, mate.” YFN winked, knowing Kyra would love the compliment. She did. She grinned proudly.

Bridget and Emily noticed the interaction then and couldn’t resist walking. YFN introduced her excited and nervous colleagues to the trio.

“Oh, I’ve seen you around in the stands before.” Caitlin said.

“Yeah, don’t you two do Tik Toks?” Katie asked.

“We used to have a Tik Tok and Instagram channel for female football, but now we’ve had a lot more training and we’re with Lumos.” Bridget said, proud that they recognised them.

“Ohh upgradin’ to the big leagues are ya? Well it’s nice to have you in the team. We’re lookin’ forward to the photos you can get for us.”

“If you can keep up!” Kyra said, flexing her bicep. Katie grinned while Caitlin rolled her eyes in fake annoyance.

“Bridget and Emily are massive Gooners, they’ll keep up for sure.”

Jonas called out then and the trio said their goodbyes as they headed over to warmup.

“How is it that you know everyone already?” Bridget asked as she looked at the team in awe. “We’ve been around forever and we’ve never met them.”

YFN shrugged. “Luck, I guess?”

Both Katie and Caitlin were starting for Arsenal, with Caitlin’s Matildas teammate Steph Catley and Lucy’s England teammates, Lotte Wubben-Moy and Alessia Russo. For Man City, Lucy’s old team, there were two Matildas; Alanna Kennedy and Mary Fowler as well as a few of the England squad also; Chloe Kelly, Lauren Hemp, Esme Morgan and upcoming goalkeeper Khiara Keating. The game was a mess… but it was great. The referee had given out so many yellow cards that even YFN who knew the bare minimum about the sport knew it was overkill. In the first 20 minutes, there were 4 yellow cards, 2 to each team, and a goal for Arsenal. A beautiful assist from Caitlin to her Aussie teammate Steph who launched top bins at the 14 minute mark. By half time it was 1-0 Arsenal, and 6 yellow cards had been given out. The teams were very evenly matched, both with incredible players from all over the world.

After half time, the game restarted just as crazy as the first half and at the 53rd minute mark, Caitlin was shown a yellow for a bad foul. A few substitutions were made for both teams in the 60th minute, however it didn’t seem effective until Man City scored their equaliser with Chloe Kelly. Steph went down hard in the 85th minute, and finally Arsenal had their second goal 2 minutes later. Unfortunately, their goal had come at the cost of a bad mistake make by the Man City keeper, Khiara Keating who was left in tears. More shots were made, more substitutions and of course, Katie managed the game’s 8th yellow card in overtime for a bad foul.

The game ended 2-1 Arsenal, effectively ending Man City’s unbeaten start to the season. It was the best game of football she’d ever seen, though she couldn’t help but be upset for the young Man City goalkeeper who couldn’t seem to be consoled for her mistake. She had spoken to her at the pub, though knew she didn’t know her well enough to try and comfort her. Her teammates were already supporting her enough. She looked over at Bridget and Emily who were being respectful and not trying to get any footage of her as she walked off the field.

Kyra came back over to YFN before any of the others could, and they started chatting. She was the newest signing to the club and hadn’t had the opportunity to show how good she was, but she seemed confident that she would.

“Will you cover internationals?”

“That’s the plan! My boss wants to take over everything so this is really just the beginning.”

“Yeah the girls were showing me some of the photos and they look great!”

“We’ll send them to you so you can do what you want with them also. Promote yourself, mate.”

“They don't cost anything?”

“Nope.”

“You’re going to be so busy..”

“Oh don’t I know it. We’ve only covered two games so far but I can already see we need a lot more people for all areas, especially editing.” She groaned, looking over to where Katie, Steph and Caitlin were making their way over.

Kyra noticed and spoke nervously before they arrived. “Have you… been to a Leicester game yet?”

“Leicester? No, that one’s in Liverpool tonight so I’m missing it this round.”

“Okay.”

YFN wondered at her question. “Are you a secret Leicester fan?”

“No! No.. I just.. I know someone who plays for them.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Well there’s Remy Siemsen who’s Aussie too..” She looked at the trio getting closer. “..and then there’s Courtney Nevin…”

YFN understood now. Caitlin had told her about that. Courtney and Kyra grew up together and went to high school with each other. They dated for a while and then had a falling out, both unfollowing each other and never seen talking to each other. She looked at the young Australian who was blushing and looking at her feet. She leant closer to talk quietly so the others wouldn’t hear. “Would you like me to talk to her?”

“I’m not sure. I just.. think I want to make sure she’s okay.”

YFN caught her eye and gave her a supportive smile and a nod. “I’ll do that when I see her, okay? I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.” She whispered.

“Ohhhh COONEY CROSS CROSS CROSS.” Caitlin wrapped an arm around her neck and pulled her close. “Debut next week for you, Ky, I bet money on it.”

Kyra grinned.

“That’ll be fun against Leicester, you can run wild!” Katie said.

Kyra’s face dropped, and her eyes widened as she caught YFN’s eye. That’s right, it was Arsenal vs Leicester next week. “Will you be there?”

“I won’t… I’ll be covering the Bristol, Aston Villa game in Bristol. Matt and Ruby will be covering that one.”

Kyra gave her a ‘please help’ look that she couldn’t avoid. “But now that I think about it… it would make more sense for me to switch with Matt and do the United/West Ham game and then the Arsenal/Leicester game so I have more interaction with the players. Plus, Matt is a huge Aston Villa fan.”

Kyra looked a little relieved.

“Steph, great game!” YFN said, looking at the Matilda’s vice-captain. “Great goal.”

“Aw, thank you! I’m not really known for my goals so I’m happy to get one.”

The five of them bantered for a little with Bridget and Emily joining them, utterly star struck as they showed them their photos and videos. Then Katie insisted that they do an interview together.

“I don’t have my equipment... my microphones. I haven’t even prepped questions.”

“Oh bull, we’ll be fine. Besides, we’ll answer anythin’ you ask.”

“Microphones are right here,” Bridget said sheepishly as she opened her equipment box.

YFN thought for a second before deciding she couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Players were never interviewed more than two at a time usually, so it would be a brilliant first interview.

She set them up with their mics and Bridget set up the camera. YFN was nervous, but she went with it.

“Okay, rolling? Fantastic. We’re here at Meadow Park with four of our Gunners, and the famous Ausenal trio. Now, we didn’t originally plan for an interview today, but Katie insisted on it…”

“Heeey hey hey, don’t tell them that!” Katie laughed before looking at her teammates. “And now that you say it, I’m feelin’ a little excluded bein’ the only non-Aussie here.”

“Are you used to being around the Aussies yet?”

“They’re so unique that I’m not sure to be fair.”

“Aw come on, we’re not that bad, mate.” Caitlin chimed in. They shared a look. “Maybe Kyra.”

“She is the annoying little sister.” Steph laughed.

Kyra rolled her eyes and looked at YFN. “They’re always complaining, but they love me really.”

The interview went so naturally between the five that YFN had lost all sense of nervousness. Instead, it ended up being good banter and she could see from the reactions of Bridget and Emily that it must have been entertaining. They spoke a little about Kyra settling in, Steph’s goal, Man City’s players and then with Caitlin starting them all teasing Katie about her late yellow card. Katie never admitted to it, but it was obvious she enjoyed her reputation of yellow cards with that cheeky Irish smile of hers.

“Oh, here’s trouble.” Steph said as Alanna Kennedy crashed their interview. She was a defender for Man City, and the Matildas. She greeted them all, obviously knowing the Australians, knowing Katie because she was dating Caitlin, and knowing YFN from their long conversation at the pub.

“Hey babe, I’m a bit offended you never asked me for an interview.” She teased; arm slung around Caitlin’s shoulder.

“Oh, I was forced into this, mate.” YFN grinned.

“Well let me call Alex over and we’ll give you the Man City perspective…”

Alex Greenwood joined the now extending interview, the girls having to share the microphones between them, and Bridget needing to step back just to get them all in frame.

They spoke about Man City, and YFN made sure to compliment the way the Arsenal and Man City players were able to compliment each other’s teams, players and good plays. They had a brief conversation about that being one of the great, major differences between the men and women’s games, and Kyra made a cheeky comment also about not rolling around on the ground for as long.

YFN wasn’t going to bring up the incident with Khiara Keating, but Alex and Alanna did, both showing their support. The Arsenal girls were also incredibly supportive about the incident also, and Katie spoke about mistakes that she had made that were necessary to the player she was now.

They ended the interview as the girls were all called over to their teams, and Kyra stole the Lumos beanie from YFN’s head. She rolled her eyes and laughed at them as they ran away. Bridget and Emily were gushing about it all the way to the car park, excited to edit the video. They all said goodbyes and parted ways, the pair headed to Crawley for the Brighton/United game while YFN was stopping by the Spurs/Everton game to check on Matt and Ruby.

YFN arrived just in the last ten minutes of the game as Everton were able to equalise with a goal. She spoke to Matt about the change of schedule for the next week, and he seemed excited to be covered Aston Villa again, not minding about the extra drive, and Ruby offering to pick YFN up from the airport as she would be flying in from Barcelona.

Before she left Brisbane Road stadium, she checked the Barca game to see how Lucy was doing. It was well into the second half 7-0 to Barca, with 4 goals by Salma, 3 assists by Graham Hansen, and 1 beautiful assisted lob by Lucy. The next 3 goals were made after half time, 1 assist by Alexia before Lucy was subbed out at the 58th minute. Alexia was subbed out not long after, and she wondered at that, looking at the highlights of the parts of the game she’d missed. What interested her was the fact that the commentators were speaking about how aggressive Lucy and Alexia were being. Both had been yellow carded, which was a rarity for them, and from the highlights, she thought they were both lucky to have only gotten yellows. They were pushing and shoving and getting a lot of aggression out. It made sense that they’d both been subbed off, even though they were playing incredibly well.

She started driving, finding herself thirty minutes away from Crawley when the clock ticked over to five-thirty. She waited for the phone call a little nervously. As each minute ticked over, she grew more and more disheartened. Eventually she arrived at Crawley, pulling up into the stadium and giving up on waiting for the phone call that would never come.

[chaotic-toasters]

Gone (2)

So both parts of this have been out on Wattpad, I just felt like waiting a bit to post this one so you all could suffer 😈

Cortnee Vine x Reader

Arsenal Women x Reader

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

"Cort? Are you in there?" Charlotte joked, waving her hand in front of Cortnee's face. "You left for sec."

"Yeah, sorry, what were you sayin', babes?"

"You ready for the match tomorrow?"

The winger racked her brain. "Against..."

"Arsenal! How have you forgotten? We've literally never played them before."

"Oh, right," Cortnee shook her head.  "It slipped my mind."

"You're so forgetful sometimes," Charlotte smiled fondly. "Aren't you excited to see Y/N?"

Y/N. Just hearing your name sent pangs of guilt through Cortnee's empty heart.

"Yeah, of course," she lied. "I'm always excited to see her."

The duo sat in silence, both occupied by their own thoughts.

"Hey, Char?" Cortnee said suddenly. "Could you ever imagine a life without me?"

Charlotte was quiet for a moment. "No. I need you. Why?"

"Just asking."

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

"Hi, girls," you forced a smile onto your face as you slipped into the changing room. "We ready to face Sydney?"

"Yup," Katie patted you on the back uncharacteristically softly as you sat down at your cubby. "Ye' ready?"

"Mhm," you pulled your shirt over your head, missing the way Kim and Steph shared a look. "I'm excited."

Katie snorted, ignoring the way that the rest of your teammates glared at her. "Coulda fooled me."

"I am excited."

Stina silently intervened, pulling the door open and ushering Jonas inside to do his pre-match talk. "Quiet down, girls."

Jonas raised his eyebrows at the thin layer of awkwardness in the room. "Everybody alright?"

"Yes. Go ahead, Jonas."

"Okay, so..."

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

"Y/N," Kim grabbed your arm just before you left the changing room. "Wait a minute."

"What is it, Kimmy?" you asked, eyes darting to the side where Steph was standing with her arms crossed.

The Scot sat on the bench, gesturing for you to do the same. "Ye' trust me, don't ye'?"

You nodded instantly. "Yes."

"I hope ye' understand that Steph informed me of yer' current... situation with Cortnee Vine," the captain stated apologetically. "Regardless of how ye' feel about that, ye' need to let me or Jonas know if ye' can't play today."

"Steph!" you hissed, standing up quickly. "I told you all of that because I trusted you! I don't want this getting out."

The defender's gaze never wavered. "Do you think we'd let something like this get out? I was your captain. Kim is your captain. We care about you as both a player and a person. If you can't play in today's game because the emotions are too high, then don't play. You're more important than football."

You clenched your jaw, reluctantly backing down and returning your gaze to Kim. "I'll tell you if I need to come off. Can I go now?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

As soon as you were out the door, Kim sighed. "She's not gonna tell me shit."

"No, she won't," Steph agreed. "We'll just have to keep an eye on her. I'll let Lia and Stina know."

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

Cortnee's eyes flicked to the left, pursing her lips as you slipped into the line of Gunners next to her.

It was as if you knew she was watching you, automatically diverting your gaze to look anywhere but at her.

She decided to just try talking to you. "Y/N—"

"Not now, Viney," Kyra whispered, reaching over to pat the winger on the shoulder. "Later."

Cortnee turned away, deciding to just sulk in silence. The two of you hadn't spoken since the incident, and it was killing her inside. She missed you. A lot.

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

"Ow, fuck," you groaned, stretching out your leg as the whistle blew. "Fuck, that hurt."

Mackenzie Hawkesby extended her hand, offering you an apologetic smile as she pulled you to your feet. "Sorry, mate."

"S'alright," you answered gruffly. "Let's get back to it."

"Y/N—" Cortnee stopped short as you swiftly turned around. "Y/N, can we talk after this?"

You shook your head, jogging into position as Katie prepared to take the free kick. You didn't need any distractions.

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

"WHY YE' TAKIN' THE PISS?!" Katie's booming shout was the first thing you heard after going down for the tenth time in fifteen minutes. "WHAT ARE YE' TRYIN' TO DO? KILL HER?"

Charlotte Mclean only shook her head, backing up slightly. "It was an accident."

"Katie," Kim's stern voice filled your ears next. "Leave it be. We don't need ye' gettin' a yellow."

You rolled over, clutching your ankle with a whimper as blood flowed quickly and freely down the side of your face.

"Y/N," Steph pressed a hand to the wound on your head, other hand resting on your back as you went limp from exhaustion (and maybe blood loss). "Y/N, don't move. The medics are coming."

"You'll get yer' arse over here if ye' know what's good for ye'," Katie growled, pulling against Lia and Kim. "Thinkin' ye' can just hurt Y/N like that? Think again."

Your eyes subconsciously drifted over to where she stood, taking in the way Cortnee was frozen in fear as she stared at the big screen.

It was replaying the moment in which Charlotte had timed her tackle wrong, hitting you square in the ankle and causing you to fly forwards and into the goalpost.

It spurred Cortnee into action, the winger darting over and shoving her own girlfriend out of anger. "What the hell, Charlotte?! Look at what you did! Look at Y/N! You fucking hurt her!"

Charlotte looked aghast. "It was an accident! And why the hell are you taking her side? I'm your girlfriend! Not her!"

"I wish she was!" Cortnee snapped before slapping a hand over her mouth.

You suddenly sat up, injuries forgotten as blood dripped down the side of your face. "Really?"

"LAY BACK DOWN!" Kim and Steph yelled, both pairs of hands shoving you onto your back.

"Y/N, where are we?" an Arsenal medic you didn't remember arriving asked you.

Cortnee took that as an opportunity to get away, apologizing to her manager before taking off into the tunnel.

"At the Emirates," you responded immediately, maneuvering yourself so that no blood would stian your jersey. "I don't have a concussion, mate."

"Well—"

Lotte peered over his shoulder. "She looks fine to me."

"Lotte, no," Kim protested. "Ye' had stitches all down the middle of yer' forehead and said ye' were fine. Ye' don't get a say in this."

"I do!" you objected, closing your left eye just before the crimson droplets could get into it. "It's my decision because I'minjured and I am me. And I say that I'm fine! I just need a bandage and then I'm good to go."

"Why is it bleedin' so much?" Kim sucked in a breath as more medics ran onto the field with a stretcher. "That's way too much blood just for a collision with a goalpost."

One of the medics shook their head as you shoved everybody off you and stood. "I don't—"

Their voice was cut off by the sudden ringing in your ears, hitting you at the same time the dizziness did. You keeled over, someone quickly catching you before you hit the ground.

In a panic, Steph tapped your clean cheek in an attempt to get you to respond. Unfortunately, you were already passed out, concussion symptoms making a delayed appearance but hitting you full force nonetheless.

Had you been conscious, you would have heard the cries of both the crowd and your teammates as you fell. You would have noticed the look of worry on Katie's usually smug face. You would have seen Kim's uncharacteristically terrified face. Seen Kyra hiding her face in Caitlin's shoulder. Seen Jonas sprinting onto the pitch with paramedics in tow.

Another thing that you weren't aware of was the paramedics telling your teammates that it wasn't a concussion. They weren't sure what yet, but it was something much worse.

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

The waiting room was eerily silent, each and every player lost in their own thoughts as they waited for updates on your condition.

The game had been called off, both Kim and the Sydney FC captain wanting to follow you to the hospital.

Everyone had arrived at roughly the same time, storming into A&E and demanding to know what was going on.

A doctor had quickly informed them that you were suffering from an epidural hematoma and rushed to surgery.

No one had spoken since then, afraid that if another word was uttered it wouldn't end well.

It was simply a waiting game, the only sound being the ticking off the analog clock on the wall.

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes into hours. Some of the players fell asleep, while other forced their eyes open in hopes that you'd be out of surgery soon. It didn't work, and most drifted off with their worries still at the forefront of their thoughts.

It wasn't until early the next morning when a doctor would finally enter the room, clipboard in hand. "Family of Y/N—"

Everyone snapped awake, Kim shooting to her feet at her words. "Yes, that's us. What's going on?"

"Y/N Y/L/N was fortunate enough to not incur any permanent brain damage or go into a coma," the doctor assured with a smile. "She'll make a full recovery."

Cortnee breathed a sigh of relief from the corner of the room, wiping away a few stray tears as all of the other girls cheered quietly.

"Thank you, doctor," Kim's relief was evident. "Can we see her?"

"One at a time. She's very disoriented right now and it wouldn't be good to overwhelm her."

All eyes turned to Cortnee who only shook her head. "Doc just said not to overwhelm her. I don't think it would be a good idea right now."

"I'll go then," Steph declared, standing up. "Kim, you should go next. I think you need it more than her."

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

"Hey, kiddo," Steph's voice was gentle as she sat on the chair next to the bed. She reached over to grab your hand. "How are you feeling, love?"

"Hey, Stephy," your eyes were shut, voice hoarse. "My head kinda hurts."

She smiled, just happy that you were alright. "I figured. You scared us, you know."

"'M sorry," you murmured, tugging Steph's hand closer. "Is anybody else here, or just you?"

She scoffed lightly. "Kid, everyone is here. Jonas is here, Kim is here, Katie is here... the whole team is here. So are the Sydney girls."

"Is Cortnee here?"

Steph faltered. "Y‐yeah. She doesn't want to come in, though. Doesn't think it's a good time."

"Okay," you mumbled, unsure of whether to be disappointed or relieved. "Did we win?"

"We called off the game," the defender said. "We were too worried."

"Oh."

"I'm gonna head out, kid. Kim's next. I think she needs to see you more than you need to see her."

You chuckled. "True."

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

"Hey, Cort?" Charlotte's voice was hesitant. "I—"

She stopped short as her and Cortnee locked eyes. A sort of mutual understanding passed between them. No more words were spoken, but they seemed to come to an agreement. It hadn't been clear to either of them before, but now it made sense. They loved each other, but they hadn't been in love for quite some time.

They had thought that they were soulmates, and they weren't completely wrong, but they weren't completely right either. They were platonic soulmates. They cared deeply for each other, but they weren't meant to be together.

Maybe this wasn't what Cortnee had expected, but she wasn't complaining. All that was left was for her to convince you to give her a chance. If she succeeded, she was golden.

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

"Kimmy?" you questioned.

"Yeah, kiddo?" the skipper's voice was less shaky now.

"Can— can you call Cortnee in? I want to see her."

Kim was silent. "Are ye' sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay, kiddo," the Scot patted your uninjured leg. "But if it gets too much, then I want you to tell her to leave. You can't be overwhelmed right now, and this isn't a great idea, but I trust you."

True to her word, she left, the door shutting behind her before it swung open a minute later to reveal the redhead who had been on your mind since you'd woken up. "Hey, Cort."

"Hey, Y/N," the winger hesitantly sat down at your beside, offering her hand which you took without a second thought. "I— I was worried about you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I— I missed you," she admitted. "Listen, what I said yesterday on that pitch— I meant it. Char and I— well, we kind of... we, um... we broke up."

The dull ache in your head paused, brain disconnecting at Cortnee's words. "Huh?"

"We ended it on good terms," Cortnee swallowed, forcing herself to keep going despite the cowardly urge to shut the fuck up and sprint out of the room. "She understood that—that I love you. You were my best friend, Y/N. I cared for you, but I didn't realize that the love I had for you wasn't platonic. I didn't realize that the love I had for Char wasn't romantic. It was the opposite."

Her confession was everything you'd ever wanted (other than having an almost fatal brain injury in the process), but now that it was happening, you could barely form the words to respond. "I—I love you too."

"Are you sure?"

You snorted. "What, do you want me to say, 'SIKE!' I WAS JUST KIDDING!'?

"No, no, no," she shook her head quickly. "I just want to make sure it's not the epidural hemahema whatever it's called talking."

You snickered.

"What? I'm not a doctor!"

"I'm sure, Cort," you smiled at her, reaching up to pat her cheek. "I love you. Always have, always will."

"That's sweet." She smiled back at you.

You waited. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"You gonna kiss me now or you just gonna stare at me?"

"Oh," Cortnee blushed. "Can I kiss you?"

"Are you deaf? I just said yes."

"Oh," she said again. "Oh."

You rolled your eyes, grabbing her by the front of her jersey and pulling her into a kiss. "You're an idiot sometimes, you know that?"

She grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, but now I'm your idiot."

"Yeah, you are. Put that on your Twitter bio, will ya?"

"Of course, love. Now get some rest."

"Love you."

"Love you too, Y/N."

"Oh, and one more thing," you said, grabbing her by the wrist just before she turned around. "FIFA declined my request to switch national teams."

Her grin became impossibly wider. "Really?"

"Yeah. Some dumb legal shit."

She squeezed your hand happily. "I love dumb legal shit."

"Me too, Cort. Me too."

[adultbabystories]

Doctor’s orders - It Is Done - Part 10

After an hour since Gregory had put Stan to sleep, the man knew he could return to the boy’s nursery. The sound already stopped and it was safe to get in. A small exposure to the sound and lights wasn’t a significant risk, and yet Gregory didn’t want to take any chances with the regression program affecting him. He stood by the door, looking at Stan in his crib, sound asleep. He learned about what these sounds and lights can do to a person. How somehow it tipped men over the edge towards infantilism. Not exactly sure how, but the results were almost a hundred present proof within a few sessions. His boy Stan, he thought, only needed one session. He was in need of an authority figure, he was in need of guidance, he was in need of letting go and just being. So many men need it, but Gregory was happy to give it to Stan.

Stan was dreaming the weirdest dream he had ever dreamed. He walked into a huge office building made of cold gray concrete with cold floor tiles and a high ceiling. 

As he walked to the receptionist, someone yelled “Stan come over here now and send these forms!”. He ran towards the voice while papers emerged in his grip. He got to an old dial landline phone and a voice screamed in his ear “Answer me now! I’m a mad client!” He let go of the forms and picked up the phone, just to hear a busy sound bip.

Hot men and women walked in front of him, smelling good, looking good, and touching each other in a non-appropriate way. He wanted to take part in that, but his feet were stuck on the cold tiles. He couldn’t move, he felt that he wanted to take part, but couldn’t. The lobby became a nightclub, and the men and women started taking off their clothes and having sex in front of him. He tried to move his feet again, but as he looked down, he saw he was naked as they were. Just in front of him people were having sex, but as he looked down again, his dick was soft and small, not paying attention to what was happening.

Waves of emotions had started to hit him. He began tearing up. His eyes were so wet he couldn’t see anything anymore. Once he succeeded in drying them up, he was in a middle of a field, looking up to the night sky. Stars and planets surrounded him from up above, it reminded him of something he saw in the past. Strange sounds echoed into the night, a lullaby maybe, with a voice talking.

“It’s okay to cry.” the voice said.

A figure appeared from the distance, it looked like a giant teddy bear, with a loving and warm facial expression. 

“Are you Stan?” the teddy bear asked.

“I am, yes” Stan sniffled.

“Why are you naked?” the bear looked down at Stan’s soft penis.

“I don’t know” he answered with a worried tone.

“All these horrible people with their horrible demands. I can take that away from you. Would you like that Stan?” the bear asked and spread his arms for a hug.

“Yes Teddy” Stan answered and went in for a hug.

In his dream, Stan opened his eyes to find out he was in a playpen, inside a huge nursery. The smell of baby powder was in the air. He was wearing a thick diaper, a full PJ, and a dangling pacifier clipped on him. Uncle Gregory came by the playpen and kneeled.

“How is my good boy today? Having fun watching his shows?” he raffled Stan’s hair.

A big screen TV was playing some kind of babyish show, which seemed to calm Stan down. Uncle Gregory grabbed the pacifier and stuck it into Stan’s mouth.

“You need it. Now, here’s your best friend Teddy. Put your little head down and take a nap.” he presented a stuffed teddy bear that looked like the same one from before. Stan took the bear into his chest and laid down. He felt so content, so warm, so safe. His uncle was watching over him, his best friend was in his arms, not a single worry. A warm feeling started in his diaper, he peed, but he didn’t care, it felt great. Looking at his fuzzy friend, he rolled over to his stomach, holding his friend with one arm, he felt the need to hump his wet diaper.

Gregory was standing there for twenty minutes. He loved to watch the first hyno night process. Especially the part when the boys start to hump their already-wet diapers. Stan’s diaper came up and down, softly, slowly, in a rhythm. In the dark, Stan made soft cooing and whining sounds while he was humping a bit faster than before. With a final whine, the boy lowered his diaper to the mattress and stopped moving.

He broke Stan, he is now the little boy he needed to be, it is done.

[light-yaers]

Take Care: Chapter Eleven

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes

A/N: it's been over a month i have no excuse other than MY BRAIN HURTS and I AM SO TIRED but i am so glad to be out of this rut. get ready for more, and get excited for this incredibly roy centric chapter

Word Count: 7.2k

Chapter Eleven

A month or so later you sat, rigid and tense, in the green room at Sky Studios. Up until then, the fanciest or most intense place you’d ever visited was that of AFC Richmond, the Dogtrack, but these studios kicked Nelson Road out of the fucking stadium. The only way you could describe it was sterile. Like a hospital, or some morbid place where people came to sit and be quiet, except you weren’t here for either of those things. 

You were here to see Roy, and that was the most intense part of it all. 

In the green room was a screen with a live relay from the stage, where you saw Roy, Jeff and Chris sitting at their familiar, unusually large, commentary table. They were taping some bits for an upcoming episode of Soccer Saturday, the parts where they weren’t required to be there live and in person. 

The breath hitched in your throat whenever Roy appeared on screen. It was still entirely new and off-putting, yet the internet had blown up when they’d seen the ex-Captain on the show. Finally, Roy Kent was back in the football world. Not playing, or coaching, but commentating. It was a good alternative, and he rocked it during the show, even despite his way with words and his… not entirely enthused demeanour. To anyone that didn’t know Roy, they’d probably think him crude and rude and blunt, all the ways he’d been described in the past in the press. To those that knew Roy inside and out, watching him on TV was like a breath of fresh air. Those closest to him had been saying the same thing for years– I could listen to you talk for hours and not get bored. 

You were no different, and in fact, had known Roy for over a year now. It was crazy how time flies, wasn’t it?

When he’d texted you an invite to the studios, you’d said yes immediately. Your time with Roy was short enough already, but now that he’d landed the gig his time was being soaked up more and more. You found yourself now, sitting at your desk at Pluto Press, just thinking about when you’d next see him. Any opportunity that arose you took by the fucking balls, and that’s exactly what went down when he’d asked you to the studios. 

Right guys, that’s a wrap for today. See you at the weekend. 

The show director said over the live screen, and you watched intently as Roy and his co-hosts had their microphone packs removed. The sound switched off immediately, but Chris approached Roy and stuck out his hand. The two legends shook hands quickly, and you noticed the smallest of smiles appear on Roy’s face as they pulled away. 

It made you smile back at them, bashfully, to yourself. There was something warming about seeing Roy interact with others like this. It was rare to catch him in a good mood at any of his prior jobs– which you knew very well from working alongside him at the Dogtrack– but seeing him enjoy his time, become buddy-buddy with Chris fucking Kamara, and all the rest made you exceptionally happy. 

You were proud of his successes, and understood his plunders. You wanted to feel that he felt the same about you in return, but you’d started this thing where you tried not to think about him like that. Assumptively, or overly-affectionately, or anything that reminded your heart of how you really felt about the man on the screen before you. It was just like you’d said to Keeley and Rebecca– you would never mention it, never tell him, and you were okay with that. 

You were okay with that. 

You jumped suddenly when the door to the green room burst open. A production assistant entered, headset donned and clipboard in his hands, shoved into his chest like he’d die without it. “Roy Kent’s plus one?” he asked. 

You looked around the empty room. You were the only one in there, but the assistant hadn’t even met your eye yet. You cleared your throat and raised your hand in the air, like a schoolgirl in class. The production assistant finally met your eye, and then clicked at you abruptly. 

“You– right. Come on, you’re wanted on set,” he said. 

You wasted no time standing up and pushing past him at the door, heart in your throat. The two of you navigated the backstage corridors of the studio, until you finally emerged on the set of Soccer Saturday. The lights were bright, too bright, and exceptionally warm to stand beneath. Camera operators, gaffers and runners still milled about the set, but you blocked them out as you went to step onto the stage. 

“Can I?” you asked the production assistant from earlier. He glanced up and went to object, opening his mouth wide, but stopped as soon as a hand descended on his shoulder. 

“‘Course you can,” Roy said, peering down at the production assistant. “Isn’t that right, Jacob?”

Jacob nodded, no doubt sweating profusely as Roy hoarded himself over the skinny kid. He was definitely younger than you by a number of years, probably fresh out of university. “Y-yes, of course, Roy.” 

You looked away, not wanting to laugh so meanly at the ordeal. It was just so Roy of him to intimidate crew at the studios, probably just from standing and doing nothing. It made your chest compress painfully, as you forced yourself away from the all-encompassing nostalgia of being around him all the time before, at the Dogtrack, and seeing it in person a whole lot more. 

God, you thought you needed a fucking lobotomy with how much you still clung onto the past. It only made you feel more childish, more pathetic, with every flashback that hit your brain and made you swallow away the want to cry. 

You stepped onto the stage a bit more, and looked out towards the several cameras. They all pointed in your direction, camera one and two and three, and however many more. “Jesus fucking Christ,” you muttered, scoffing at it all as Roy joined you on stage. “This is intense.”

“I never know how to react when I realise people can see my beard in 4K,” Roy said, as a small smile curled onto his face. He peered down at you softly, his gaze flicking across your features as you looked around the set curiously. “It’s good to see you.” You turned to him and looked up, smiling at him bashfully. 

This was just it– those little moments where you’d happily melt into a puddle on the ground beneath him, but you couldn’t. 

You coughed, laughing awkwardly, before you gently poked him in the chest. “You too,” you said, trying to keep things as playful as possible. Roy perked his brow at you questioningly, amused, but didn’t comment. Instead, he watched you panic subtly as you continued around the set, until you’d rounded the desk to his chair. 

“May I?” you asked. 

Roy bowed at you smally. “Be my fucking guest.” 

You sat down in his chair slowly, and leaned your elbows on the desk before you. You shuffled your shoulders, and puffed out your chest. “Oh, I could get used to this,” you said, feeling powerful. Roy growled at you gently. “Come on, sit in Jeff’s chair.”

If Roy wanted to object in any way, he didn’t. He obediently made his way around the desk and sat in Jeff Stelling’s chair, all the while looking at you like you were gold. You sucked in a deep breath and cleared your throat. “So, Jeff– what did you make of AFC Richmond’s last game? When will these fucking tied games end, hm?” you said, putting on your most gravelly voice possible in an attempt to imitate Roy. 

He sighed, but he still didn’t object. A small smile was still curled on his lips, and it made your gut coil. He leaned forward, and adopted Jeff’s stance. “Well, Roy,” he started, taking on a much cheerier voice than his own. It was off-putting. “Richmond has been hit hard, but not as hard as their mascot Earl was a few months ago. Poor fuck–” He coughed, and recomposed himself. “Poor dog.”

“Well fucking said, Jeff,” you replied, but burst into giggles as soon as you did. “What do you reckon is the reason for their tie records on top of it, though? And what about that prick, Jamie fucking Tartt, sculking around the club after his stint in the reality TV game?”

Roy furrowed his brows at you quizzically. “Jamie fucking Tartt is trying to get signed to Richmond again?” he said, his normal voice cutting through. 

You waved him off. “I’ll tell you later. Keep going,” you said quickly, bringing it back to the game. 

Roy growled, and went back to his Jeff impression. “Well, it could be a number of things, Roy.” You smiled to yourself, elated just to be around him again. “Your retirement, for starters, has left the team utterly abandoned and in the dust.”

You perked your brow at him.“I’m not sure that’s entirely true, really–”

“They’re devastated by the loss,” Roy cut you off again, and you burst out a giggle. Roy swallowed away his amusement then, as he met your eye. “That, and the loss of their social placement was definitely a hard pill to swallow.” You froze as the words fell from his mouth. “I– inside sources– have told the press about how hard it’s been after she left. Her fanclub made up of Isaac McAdoo, Colin Hughes and Sam Obisanya haven’t been the same since her placement ended.”

You swallowed painfully, as Roy’s gaze stayed stuck on your own for a second too long. Neither of you looked away, but your heart swelled to twice the size beneath your ribcage. This fucking sucked– cutting yourself off from feeling all this– fucking sucked. But, you felt it was necessary. You didn’t want to lose Roy again– couldn’t– and this would ensure he stuck around. 

Still, as he looked at you with a softness reserved only for people he truly gave a shit about, you couldn’t help but give in just this once. 

You dropped the act, and reverted your voice to your own. “I seem to remember there being more people in the fanclub,” you said. “Who else hasn’t been the same, hm?” 

Roy leaned back in his chair, and crossed his legs. You thought he’d tense up, or lean forward, but you knew that position was a sign that he was truly comfortable. Meanwhile, you were trying to hide the fact your fingers were shaking. 

“I can think of one more.” He shrugged. “Want a name?” 

“No,” you said instantly, abruptly, taking back everything you’d put out before. You recomposed yourself, and smiled as normally as you could. “I think I already have a good guess.”

Roy opened his mouth and sucked in a breath, before he nodded at you in understanding. It felt like a situation similar to that first night, after the charity ball, when you’d offered another time. Roy could easily count how many times you’d held yourself back from him. He didn’t know what to say to reassure you that this– you and him– was okay. He wasn’t one for being mushy, but he figured there was a reason as to why you hadn’t made it clear yet. 

So, he stayed put. He waited, and he wondered if you ever would, and if you never did– then that would be that. It wasn’t worth blurting out his feelings in a, no doubt, blunt and plain way if it meant risking this all. Seeing you, being around you, taking it on the chin everytime you scolded him when he deserved it. 

You were one of the only people out there that could tell him to fuck off. He liked it that way. 

As the two of you drove home, you stared out the window on the passenger side. Being around Roy always made you feel warm, but since he’d become a pundit, things had felt heavier. Thicker, tenser, like you’d be able to cut the atmosphere between you with a plastic butter knife. Maybe it was due to you setting yourself invisible boundaries, but something still made your stomach flip whenever he indulged. 

Innately, you told yourself to shake it off. If things stayed as they were with you both meant nothing would change, but you admitting your feelings to him would. It was still out of the question, but you had to be stronger around him. You sucked in a breath, and it cemented things in your brain. No longer would you crumble at his warm remarks, his soft stares, his playful behaviour. These were just things that Roy did with you, and hell, you enjoyed it platonically just as much as you would romantically– so what did it matter?

Roy pulled up outside your building, and you clicked off your seatbelt. You didn’t get out of the car, however, and placed your hands in your lap instead. “Thanks for–”

“What are you doing next Wednesday?” Roy cut over you. Your brain short circuited.

“Uh– finish work at five, like normal. Why?” 

“I’ve got Phoebe that night. We were going to grab a chinese and watch Ice Age. You in?” 

You smiled to oblivion. “I’d love to. Why Ice Age though?”

“Because she’s fucking seven, and I’m unashamed to say that film makes me cry every time.”

You scoffed abruptly, surprised. “Really?”

“Really,” Roy said seriously. “That baby is still fucking ugly though.” You laughed, and nodded in agreement. Roy tapped the steering wheel, expelling happy energy. He growled in approval. “Fruit Shoot pre drinks are at six, so you better not be late.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you said, before you opened your door and got out of the car. Roy rolled the window down when you hopped up on the pavement on his side, and stuck his elbow out like a trucker. 

“See you later,” he said, though not with his usual hostility and unbothered attitude. This was a see you later that had feeling behind it.

You swallowed bashfully. “See you.”

On Monday, Rebecca met you at Pluto Press. She strolled through the building with purpose, shoes clicking intently on the hardwood floors, until she loomed over your desk fiercely. “I’m here to see the best writer in the building,” she said.

You peered up at her and smiled profusely, before you shot up and gave her a colossal hug. “God, I’ve fucking missed you.” 

“Me too, darling,” she said, before pulling away. She kept her hands on your shoulders for good measure. “Come on. Pasta and wine won’t eat and drink itself.”

You liked getting dinner with Rebecca alone. She was an important figure to you, despite the previous way she’d felt about the club and people like you in general. She twisted her arm around your own as the two of you made your way out of Pluto Press, and you had to admit that you felt confident when in stride next to Rebecca. She was well-known, a prominent businesswoman, a strong person, and you were glad to have her in your life.

Especially, when she had gossip to spill.

“He’s called John. He treats me nice. He’s good looking and intelligent and everything good, but…” 

“But?” you questioned, feeling giddy during girl talk. 

“Well, after Rupert and all the other bozos I’ve been with, I want to make sure he is everything I think he is.”

“Ah, you want your friends’ approval, is that it?” 

Rebecca picked up her wine glass. “Absolutely, I do.” She sipped at the contents, before placing the glass back on the table. “I had an idea of a double date with you and Keeley pretending to be girlfriends.”

You scoffed abruptly. “We wouldn’t even need to pretend that much. I love her and she loves me.” 

“Exactly my thoughts! But, Keeley is away in fucking Edinburgh this weekend, so that’s a no go.”

You thought through your options. Who could you bring as a possible fake date to this double date situation if it wasn’t Keeley? You snapped your fingers. “Oh, I know— I could bring Ted!” 

Rebecca looked like you’d run over a child with Roy’s Jeep. “Absolutely fucking not.”

You recoiled. “Oh, come on. Who the fuck else then?”

“Just bring Roy!” Rebecca exclaimed. Your cheeks warmed intensely. 

“Oh, fuck off,” you spat out, bringing your wine glass to your lips and trying to ignore the way your gut had lurched.

Rebecca leaned towards you, a mischievous smile on her face. “Just imagine it. You and Roy already look and act like a fucking couple sometimes–” You swallowed your wine abruptly.

“No, we do not—”

“Yes, you do!” Rebecca said strongly. “But push that aside for just a moment, and this could be a good experiment.” 

You placed your glass down strongly, curiously. “Go on.”

“If he feels for you the way you feel for him, then this is a good way to show it. Might give you both some clarity, because Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t take this back and forth much longer.”

Your defences were on high. “There is no back and forth—”

“Yes, there is! When are you going to grab that fucking hairy man and just kiss him!” 

“Rebecca!” you exclaimed. There was subtle anger in both of your voices, but it was drowned out by the extreme hilarity of the entire situation.

Despite your eyes being wide and your brows being perked wildly, both you and Rebecca had small smiles plastered on your faces that only meant one thing— I love you and I love this. She understood you, and understood your concerns and feelings and all the like, but that didn’t stop her from wanting you to get out and emerge from this funk.

“Just… think about it?” she suggested.

You smiled at her warmly. “This is Roy we’re talking about. He probably wouldn’t even do it.”

“That’s a possibility, for sure. But it’s still worth asking, isn’t it?” 

You tapped your wine glass thoughtfully, before you nodded strongly. “You’re right. I’ll ask him, and if it means we can help you, then it’s worth the emotional embarrassment.”

Rebecca smiled back at you. “And who knows?” she said, with a twinkle in her eye. “It might be fun.”

You raced home from work on Wednesday, and knocked on Roy’s door quickly, a bit after six in the evening. You were late for Fruit Shoot pre drinks, but the tube was to blame. He opened the door strongly and laid a blunt stare in your face.

“You’re late,” he said. 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“The Fruit Shoots are almost gone,” he said, smiling just a little.

“Then let me in quickly so I can fucking have one!” you exclaimed playfully. Roy let you in, and you slipped off your shoes in record time.

Roy’s house was so familiar to you now. The atmosphere inside made you feel safe and comfortable, and always brought you back to past times when you’d been inside or passing by his road. He strolled in toe next to you as you made your way to the kitchen. There were a number of Fruit Shoots and some snacks on the island as you entered.

“Phoebe!” Roy called as you grabbed a drink, and the pitter patter of feet erupted from the living room and around the corner.

When Phoebe bound towards her uncle you could hardly contain how happy you felt. She was someone special to him, really special, and he’d chosen you to meet her. That must’ve meant you’d done something right, surely?

Phoebe stopped before her uncle, but peered at you in curiosity. “What is it, Uncle Roy?”

“I want you to meet someone,” he said, before the two turned back to you. He placed his hand on her head affectionately, before he met your eye. “Phoebe, this is my friend—”

“Are you the one that wrote that story about my Uncle Roy?” Phoebe cut over him, and you scoffed abruptly from how confident she was at only seven years old. 

You leaned down slightly. “Yes, I am. Has your Uncle Roy talked about me before?”

“All the time!” Phoebe exclaimed, and you peered up at him playfully. Roy growled, embarrassed at his niece spilling all his secrets. “He told me that you wrote a story about him in the newspaper,” she said.

“I did. Lots of people read it.”

“He also told me that he’s annoyed at you because you’re the only person that can tell him when he’s done something bad,” she said it so surely that it caught you off-guard. You scoffed as you straightened out, and shot a playful look at Roy. 

He looked thoroughly embarrassed. His jaw was clenched, and his shoulders were square, and you knew he wanted to yell or hide away in that moment. It only made you laugh even harder, as a few giggles trickled from your mouth. 

“I’m definitely not the only person who tells him off, but I might be the only one he listens to about it,” you said. “Come on, what else has he said about me?” you urged playfully. 

Roy stepped between you and Phoebe. “That’s fucking enough.”

Phoebe gasped suddenly, and your eyes widened. “That’s a bad word, Uncle Roy!”

“Yeah, sorry,” he said, as if he’d apologised for the same thing a thousand times. He probably had. 

“You owe the swear jar a pound!” Phoebe pointed at Roy threateningly, chastising him. 

Roy messed up her bright blonde hair affectionately. “Add it to the rest of the bill.”

After a huge chinese dinner, where you all opened fortune cookies and laughed at the fact Roy got life will get better, just wait in his own, the three of you sat in the living room. Phoebe and you sat on the plush rug in front of the sofa, while Roy took the sofa. He crossed his arms for the duration of Ice Age, staying quiet as you and Phoebe bonded over how funny Sid the sloth was. 

When the baby came on screen, you grimaced immediately. You’d forgotten just how ugly it was. Roy was absolutely right. You twisted yourself around to meet his eye, and furrowed your brows. “You’re right. It’s still so ugly.”

“Told you,” he said, before you turned back around to the TV. Phoebe jumped up onto your lap as you did, and you snuggled her close to your chest as the film continued. 

Behind you, Roy was twitching. Despite only seeing the tops of your heads, and the shake of your shoulders when you laughed, there was something brewing within him when seeing you with his niece. He didn’t often introduce people he knew to her, because of the impact it would have on her when those people could inevitably leave. It had happened with her piece of shit father, and from that moment, Roy had started involving himself even more– just to give his sister a break, just because he loved his family so fucking much. 

Seeing you with her, getting on so well in this way, made him swallow away his deepest wants. In a perfect world, he would have made his way down beside you both on the floor. You would have leaned into him, sharing the weight of the child in your lap, and he would have draped his arm over your shoulder and held you close– but no. 

Roy inhaled a laboured breath, and forced himself to focus on the screen for the rest of the film; knuckles white, body tensed, trying and failing not to feel everything. 

Phoebe was fast asleep by the time the credits rolled. You held her in your arms as Roy got up and switched off the TV, before turning back to you both. You glanced down at Phoebe’s dreaming face as you frowned awkwardly. Roy’s expression was somewhere between stoic and glowing. His jaw clenched when you peered up at him in subtle pleading. 

“What do I do?” you whispered. 

“Fuck all. You’re stuck like that until she wakes up,” he replied, crossing his arms. You gulped away your nerves, looking back at Phoebe in your arms. Roy took his opportunity to smile without you seeing. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you whispered harshly, but you inwardly accepted your fate. You peered back at Roy, and his face flattened. “So, are you just going to stand there?” He shrugged. “Roy!” you whispered strongly. 

That was enough for him to finally crumble. His hard expression faltered and was replaced with the smallest of smiles. He dropped his arms to his sides as he started towards you. “I’m fucking kidding,” he whispered deeply, as he knelt before you. “I’ve got her.”

You would have looked away as Roy picked up his niece if you had the chance. He was soft, and gentle, as he slotted his hands beneath her and hoisted her from your lap easily. He draped her over his shoulder with such care, as her cheek squished sleepily against his shoulder. His hand found her back and stayed there warmly. 

“I’ll tuck her in,” he said, before making his way out of the room and up the stairs.

You stayed put after he left, cleaning up the snacks from the coffee table and straightening out the sofa cushions just from habit. You chucked away empty crisp packets and yoghurt pots, and threw some finished Fruit Shoot bottles in the recycling bin. It was comforting as you familiarly navigated all the cupboards and drawers in Roy’s kitchen. You knew your way around his house very well, and often found yourself jealous of the space. It’s not that you didn’t like your apartment– of course, you did– but Roy’s house was proper. 

It was funny. Without trying at all, you were able to slot yourself alongside Roy here. Living alongside each other, cooking dinners, drinking beers on his back patio, watching shitty movies on the sofa. You slammed another Fruit Shoot bottle in the recycling as a way to snap yourself out of it. No good came from imagining more between you and Roy, especially after everything that had already occurred. 

You let out an angry huff at yourself as you leant upon the kitchen island, looking out towards the dining table. You wracked your fingers through your hair, as your eyes settled upon his bookshelf in all its glory. You enjoyed looking at it, no matter how many times you’d already scoured the overflowing shelves. Squinting, you gently approached the dining table as your eye hit upon something new; something that hadn’t been there previously.

On the middle shelf, right between cards from Phoebe and Roy’s sister, your article had been framed and placed for all to see. At the top, next to the title, was that classic picture of Roy from the first game of football you’d ever seen. His foot was on the ball, his stare hard, his hair trimmed in that robotic way that he’d used to do. 

You couldn’t believe he’d kept it, and framed it, and put it up– all of it. It made your heart thump incessantly in your chest. It made the logical side of your brain completely disappear; the side that told you not to jump, that held you back, that told you not to complicate things. 

“You noticed it, hm?” Roy said suddenly, appearing in the kitchen as you stayed glued in front of the dining table. 

You turned to him, wide-eyed and full of love. “You kept it?”

“‘Course I did,” he said, walking towards you slowly. “It was your big break, and the nicest thing ever fucking written about me. Why wouldn’t I keep it?”

“I don’t know, I just–” you started, but chose to stop part way through. You settled, and smiled. “It’s nice that you did.”

Roy nodded, and growled subtly. Silence trickled over you both, as the obvious tension between you was cemented even further. This always happened when you were alone, together, looking at one another like you were memorising the lines on each other’s faces. 

“Fancy a drink?” Roy asked coarsely. He had to cough slightly to stop his voice from breaking. 

You breathed out deeply. “Yes. Please. Yes please.” You found your voice again, and the tension dissipated slightly as he headed towards the fridge.

You sunk into one of the chairs at the dining table, watching closely as Roy opened the fridge and grabbed two green bottles of beer. It was nice that you didn’t have to say what it was you wanted, didn’t have to even direct, he just knew. He knew you, and you knew him just as well. He popped the tops off both bottles, before sitting down opposite you. He slid you a beer, and your fingers touched his own as he made the pass. It went unsaid, and you ignored your heart in your chest. 

The two of you sipped at your drinks in unison, transcending into a different realm of awkward (and) or sexual tension. It was always this way, this feeling. You’d grown so used to it from being so exposed to being watched, analysed, affectionately stared at, by Roy’s gaze, that you didn’t bat an eye when you looked at him– only to find him already staring at you. 

You squinted at him playfully. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said. 

You raised your drink to your lips. “Fine.” You drank, and let his lingering eyes watch as you gulped back more beer. As you placed your bottle down, you smiled. “Thank you for letting me meet Phoebe.”

“It was about time,” he said, leaning forward. “Like she said– I apparently don’t shut the fuck up about you.” He smiled smally, before the two of your drank in unison, just to fill the happy silence. 

You thought of Rebecca then. Of her strong jaw and broad shoulders and confident strides. If it’d been her, she would have taken matters into her own hands a long time ago. Before Roy’s retirement, before the article, she would have launched herself into this all strongly from the moment he’d invited you for a drink after the charity ball. 

As Rebecca’s gorgeous face shone behind your eyelids, you remebered your lunch. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered suddenly, as you recalled her double date situation. 

“What?” Roy questioned. 

“Well,” you started. You leaned forward to bridge the gap between you, and innately psyched yourself up to broach this idea to him. You couldn’t believe what you were about to ask of him. “Rebecca is seeing a man– John.”

“John,” Roy repeated. 

“And, well,” you said, stalling for time. You grimaced, just for lack of how to even get it all out. “She… well, she–”

“Are you having a fucking stroke or something?” Roy asked, before he slammed his hand over your forehead abruptly, searching for a fever. 

You burst out laughing as soon as he did, and swatted away his fingers. “Jesus Christ, I’m fine!” you exclaimed. 

Roy removed his hand from your head. “Then get to the fucking point!”

“Okay!” you exclaimed, getting worked up. “Rebecca is seeing this man, and she wants her friends’ approval to be sure he’s not a fucking weirdo.” You sucked in a deep breath, and reworded your entire question until it wasn’t one anymore. “You’re going to pretend to be my partner, so we can judge if this guy is a psycho or not.” After you blurted it out, you half expected Roy to scoff. Surely he wouldn’t say yes, surely he would protest, and whine, and sulk, and everything else that his thirty-six year old arse would do when forced into this kind of situation. 

Instead, he stayed still. He stayed calm, and his express didn’t falter. “When is it?” Roy asked. 

“This weekend.”

“Okay,” he said. 

“Okay?” You stared at him, utterly boggled. 

Roy furrowed his brows, as if saying yes was the most obvious answer of all. “Who else would you fucking take? Fucking Ted?” 

You chose not to tell him of your first choice, or of Rebecca’s obvious dislike of the idea. You leaned back in your chair and took a surprised gulp of beer, before clutching the bottle to your chest. “I can’t wrap my head around why you’re fine about this,” you said honestly. “Are you having a fucking stroke?” 

Quickly, you reached your hand out and laid it upon Roy’s forehead, mimicking his earlier behaviour. You thought he’d push you off, or laugh, or copy the way you reacted. When he gently leant into your touch, you froze. 

“I feel just fine,” he said lowly, his stare glued on yours. Gently, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist, and you dropped your palm from his head. Quickly, Roy shuffled his hand so his thumb hit your pulse point. “Are you alright?”

You felt your heart rate accelerate, which meant Roy felt it, too. 

Quickly, you pried your hand out of his grasp, but not before your fingers swiped over each other’s. You moved your hand to your lap, just to avoid staring at it as your mind raced. 

“I’m fine,” you said, despite the fact it was an obvious lie. That’s when Roy’s lips curled into a small smile. “But– great. This is great.” You tried to redirect the conversation to the double date, tried to keep things professional. “Rebecca gets the answers she wants, we get a free meal, and I get to dress in something other than the same five outfits I wear at work every week… but,” you said, tapping your glass anxiously. “We have to pretend to be a couple.”

Roy shrugged. “We’ll live.” He wasn’t ready to admit to you that he knew it would be easy. Maybe you might make it harder, but if all Roy had to do to be convincing was occasionally hold your hand, or sit close to you, or bicker like an old married couple, then he was already there.

You squinted at him, still confused. “You’re seriously okay with this?”

Roy shrugged again, but it was only with the sole intention to have you roll your eyes at him. He succeeded. 

As Saturday approached, it properly dawned on you what was about to happen. You and Roy had to pretend to be together, while simultaneously navigating not just Rebecca, but her newest man, as well. You found yourself wishing that Keeley wasn’t away, but that definitely would have been the easy way out. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go on a fake double date Roy fucking Kent– that in itself was something that (ashamedly so) made you so fucking excited that it was miracle you’d been able to contain it for the remaining days before the weekend. It wasn’t about the possible awkwardness that you could both feel at having to be noticeably affectionate, or the fumbling fingers that you would both have during those first few tries.

It was about the aftermath. 

It was about the possible shift that could happen as a result of this little charade. It was about the marathon you were already running to keep at bay every single feeling you had for Roy (and the ones he held for you that you had no clue about). It was about being able to leave that table at that restaurant still knowing that everything would be normal and unchanged and not fucking complicated.

That’s what you focused on for the rest of the week, and when Saturday morning turned to afternoon, and when that afternoon turned to early evening, you felt stronger. As you got ready to go into this shitstorm, you were determined not to let all hell break loose. 

Just down the road, Roy pulled a black t-shirt over his head. He paired it with black jeans, the usual, but opted to spray his most expensive cologne over the top— not the usual. It was true that he was excited about this. Just the opportunity to make you blush was enough to make him smile, and after he felt the upbeat pitter patter of your pulse he was beginning to doubt that you harboured no romantic feelings for him. 

Either way, no matter the outcome, he was going to grab hold of this situation by the throat. It was funny; being given the opportunity to be close to you, to imagine being together, and all the rest; but even just being allowed to pretend and put on a show for one evening made him feel satisfied.

Innately, though, he told himself not to go overboard. As much as your pulse had betrayed you, he wasn’t about to put you in an uncomfortable situation for the sake of it. Roy was almost a decade older than you, he harboured experience galore— what with being an ex-star footballer— but he still knew you weren’t the time to fuck around.

He glanced at his watch; he had a little under an hour before he was due to pick you up. This evening was certainly going to be one he’d remember for a while, even if he ended up wanting to fucking forget all about it by the end. 

Roy’s Jeep pulled up outside your flat. You heard it from your living room window, and quickly slung a small bag over your shoulder before leaving through your door. Roy cut off the engine before he jumped from the driver’s seat. As he rounded his car, the squeak of your building door sounded. He peered up, and what met his gaze was only the first step of his night fully starting. 

As you shut the door behind you, your dress blew up to just past your knees. Compared with the charity ball, you’d opted to wear a jacket over it in this cold, which almost made Roy laugh to himself. You descended the steps as he took a relaxed stance by the passenger side door, and when you finally glanced his way, he was already looking at you. This was a running theme, you thought, catching Roy’s eye, only to find him already looking at you gently. 

“Hey,” you said, slightly breathlessly from the cold but also from him. You trickled your gaze over his body. He wore nothing different than normal, his usual combo of black on black, but this time it felt different. It was oddly reminiscent of the night of the charity ball, a year ago now, but with a slight twist.

You felt older, you knew each other better, and that unspoken tension hadn’t cropped up until later that fateful night. Now, everything was different. But in the best way. 

“Hey,” Roy said lowly, his voice gravelly. “Ready to go?”

You nodded sweetly, smiling at him as you stood face to face. You inhaled, and as you did, his cologne hit your nose. You had to ignore how fucking good he smelled, even more so when you both clambered into the car.

A few minutes into the journey, Roy cleared his throat. “So,” he started, and you sensed some trepidation in his tone that made you look at him slyly. “This double date thing… how far are we taking it?”

Abruptly, you choked on your own spit. You coughed loudly and turned towards the window, until the tickle in your throat finally ceased. “What?” you croaked, panicking. Roy smiled to himself quickly, before he clenched his jaw forcefully. 

“This guy, Jim, or whatever. He thinks we’re an item, right?” Roy continued. 

You furrowed your brows at him curiously. “Yes.”

“So, how far are we taking this fake relationship shit?” Roy asked again. 

Your heart plummeted into your stomach. “I don’t fucking know.” You tried to act casual and unbothered. It was fucking difficult. “Far enough for it to be believable, I guess.”

“So,” Roy said. “Can I hold your hand?” 

You swallowed. “Yeah, obviously.” You kept your eyes ahead of you, but could feel Roy’s stare hit your profile every few seconds, only when he wasn’t looking at the road. 

“Okay,” he said. “Can I touch your waist, or– I don’t know– your thigh under the table, or some shit?” Roy attempted to lace stoicism within his words. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but he also wanted to know what he could and couldn’t do. Just for clarity, just so you were on the same page. 

You glanced out the window, looking away from him. You didn’t want him to see the warmth that had appeared on your cheeks. It was a miracle he couldn’t hear the butterfly wings that ravaged your stomach. “I don’t see why not.”

“Alright, fine,” Roy said, clearing his throat afterwards. His knuckles had turned white on the steering wheel. 

You sucked in a deep breath, but all it did was remind you of his cologne. “Anything else?” you asked assumptively, tensing yourself involuntarily. 

Roy stopped the car at a red light. “Yeah,” he said sharply, turning to you strongly. You turned to look at him, too, catching his eye with as much confidence you could muster. “Can I kiss you?” 

You stopped breathing. The urge to look at Roy’s lips was unavoidable. You wanted to stay calm, to stay cool, to stay composed, so your initially thought answer of yes, God, yes had to be contained on this occasion. You’d spent three days internally preparing yourself for this, but as soon as Roy started asking his questions your walls practically crumbled. His prying had a feeling behind it, intent, and you knew Roy well enough by now to know that he wouldn’t ask these things lightly. That was the first hurdle to jump over. 

The next– the way he was looking at you made you want to abandon your evening with Rebecca and John altogether. If it were up to you, you’d tell him to pull over the car on any desolate street he could find, just so you could finally give in to this silly crush. It was obvious this wasn’t just you anymore, that this small unspoken thing had developed further inside both of you, until it had left you in this fucking situation. 

A fake date, with real feelings. What a fucking nightmare. 

“I–” you started, but couldn’t get another word out as Roy’s gaze darted to your lips and back. 

Oh, the fucking bastard. He was good, really good, and he knew it, too. Was this what he did with the Spice Girls? Because it was fucking working. It was enough to make you want to spill everything, to not hold back any longer. 

“Roy.” You breathed out. 

He looked at you so softly. “Yeah?” he said lowly. 

“I need to tell you something–”

The shrill boom of a car horn from behind made you gasp. Roy twisted himself abruptly to the windshield, and the light that once was red was now green again. The car honked its horn once more, and Roy let out a growl. “I’m going, you fucking twat!” he yelled, before smashing his foot down on the accelerator. 

And just like that, the conversation had to take another back seat. You still had parts to play, and hearts to bear, and lots and lots of wine to fucking drink. 

CHAPTER TWELVE

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[winters-dream]

For everyone who wanted a part two 💖:

part one

Villain stood in their lair, their eyes trained on their TV as the news played on the large screen. The news anchor had just announced the death of the city’s beloved Hero, and Villain almost wanted to let out a haughty laugh as they turned to face Hero who sat comfortably on their couch, very much alive. 

Hero watched the news silently as the anchor gave a rather dismissive farewell followed by a montage of their work. They stared at the screen blankly, their face void of any emotion as civilians were given a chance to recall their memories of the Hero.

Villain turned the TV off, cutting the news report short as they stared down at Hero, sitting silently on the couch. They sat with their knees brought up to their chest, staring blankly at the TV, seeming unbothered that Villain had shut it off. 

“Are you okay?” Villain asked. They sat down beside Hero, careful to leave some space between them, still unsure how to act around the one they used to share their deepest secrets with, the one who’d kissed their worries away, shared a million ‘i love you’s with. That all disappeared when Hero lost their memory.

Hero gave them a minute shrug, resting their chin on their knees. “The whole world thinks I’m dead. The news said so.” 

Villain gazed at the Hero, guilt wracking their every nerve as they stared at Hero’s sullen expression. They softly sighed through their nose as their eyes followed the movement of Hero’s fingers picking at the corner of a throw pillow. 

“I’m sorry,” they said. And they truly meant it. None of this should have happened to the hero. That fight shouldn’t have happened, Hero should have never gotten amnesia. If Villain had just stayed home that day . . .

“Are you behind this?” asked Hero. 

“No, honest,” Villain answered too fast for their own liking, panic evident in their voice. “I promise, I didn’t know anything about it until just now.”

Hero nodded with a small motion, leaning back to relax against the back of the couch. They put Villain’s pillow, now with loosened embroidery stitches, in their lap and resorted to fluffing it instead. The action seemed to calm the hero’s mind so Villain didn’t stop them. Even if it was about to cost them a good pillow. 

“You know,” Villain started. “It's not too late. Your death just now came on the news. You can go out there and show everyone you're still alive. Your memory is still shit, but the agency will be thrilled to see you.”

Slowly, Hero shook their head. “I don't think so. That's not who I am anymore. They're all going to look at me and expect me. The person I was before all of this. They're going to expect me to remember. They'll look at me with disappointment when I don't.”

Their eyes met with Villain’s. “It's the same look you give me.”

Villain shook their head. “I'm not disappointed that you don't remember.”

They lied. Of course they were disappointed. They looked at Hero and saw a shell of who they used to be, the years of memories Hero has yet to regain. The distance behind their eyes where there used to be love. The passion they used to have, long gone. The determined set of Hero’s jaw as they conjured a plan to save the city. Their pride. 

All gone within the blink of an eye.

Yes, Villain was disappointed, annoyed at themself for expecting Hero to suddenly remember. It wasn’t fair to Hero.

“Let’s stop worrying about the past,” Villain said suddenly. “Because who knows if you ever fully recover. Focus on the now and make new, better, memories today.”

Hero shifted slightly in their seat and Villain saw the first glimmer of hope flash in their eyes. 

“You really think I can move on from this?” they asked. "It'll be that easy?"

"Well, no it won't be easy," Villain admitted. “But you'll have me with you the whole time."

They reached out and placed their hand on top of Hero’s. And for the first time since the incident, Hero smiled.