#‘yeah we’re gonna move you here for now’ but if he doesn’t reply i’m sending a letter

[atopvisenyashill]

i want to be upfront and say i’m pretty sure the black mold in my bathroom is affecting my brain by this point so if i start going really off the rails pls remind me about the mold and that i should send a certified letter to my landlord saving that he needs to post me up in a hotel also don’t take a single thing i say until my bathroom is fixed seriously thanks

[augustinewrites]

cw: jjk manga spoilers (up to 221), blood, sword fights heh + note: it's finally here, and somehow it's worse than shibuya!

“is he gonna be mad?”

“satoru?” you snort lightly, taking another bite of your frozen yogurt. “he’s just going to ask if you won. he might try to take the sequel of that new book set you got as punishment— but i’ll see what i can do.” 

across the table, megumi huffs, leaning back into the plush booth. you’d picked him up early from school today, the reason being yet another suspension. his second since he’d started the school year. you suppose that’s the reason for his sullen disposition and existential crisis. 

“am i a bad person?”

you glance up at him in acknowledgement, but take a moment before answering. he stirs the frozen yogurt around in its cup, looking rather glum.

there’s a delicate way of going about these types of things. children (especially teenagers) are complicated creatures. they’re still at their most malleable, your words and actions shaping their very future.

“i don’t think you’re a bad person, megumi,” you answer softly, setting your spoon down. 

“but i…i keep doing bad stuff,” he argues dejectedly. “and— and i was mean to tsumiki—”

“hey. no one’s born wanting to do bad things,” you tell him. “and when they do…it’s usually more complicated than we think. there are bad situations where sometimes we have to do bad things. even if we don’t want to. even if we’re not proud of them.” 

“but how do you know that i’m not?” he asks again, and your heart aches. 

“because i know you,” you smile. “i’ve known you for eight years, megumi. yeah, i think you could afford to try using your words instead of your fists once in a while, and be a little nicer to your sister…but i know everything you do comes from a good place.”

megumi doesn’t reply, staring out the window with that pensive frown of his. all you can do is wonder if you and satoru have done right by him. if you’re doing right by him now. (such is the life of a parent, you suppose.)

all you can do is hope. 

“hey,” you grin, holding your hand out to him. “promise me something?”

_____

you stumble backwards, narrowly avoiding being gutted by a sword. gasping, your fingers fumble with the hem of your shirt, the material sliced right above the small, almost imperceptible bump of your stomach. 

your megumi would never hurt you. your megumi, your sweet, gentle boy who still muttered the song about bunny ears as he tied his shoes. who always offered his sister the last bite of cake, even though you knew he wanted it for himself. who cried the first time his shikigami were injured in battle. 

but this isn’t megumi.

you barely dodge the blade again, ducking and sending your demon dogs out to slow him down as you sprint down the alley. your heart shatters at the sound of a high-pitched whine, but you can’t stop, you can’t look back—

“going somewhere?”

you skid to a stop in front of him, staggering back as quickly as you can. 

megumi— no, sukuna stands in front of you now, holding a sword you’d taught his vessel how to make, how to use. 

“please,” you beg, thinking of tsumiki’s body a few blocks away. thinking of gojo in the prison realm. you can’t lose anyone else today. “please let him go.”

“i don’t think so,” he grins, sick and twisted as he slowly makes his way towards you. “if only he’d unlocked his full potential sooner. if only you had.” 

“he’s just a child.” you say, voice trembling. you look around. there’s no use in running. he’s gotten much too strong.

but you’re not ready to die either.

he wasn’t patient, lunging first and taking the offense. it’s a struggle to meet him at every swing, deflecting blows that send tremors down the sword’s point of impact and reverberate through your arms. 

playing defence is the smart move. you’d wait for an opening or a drop in his own defence. then your goal would be to disarm him and attempt to grant yourself an advantage. 

(in theory, at least.)

when your swords lock once more, he forces them to the side, kicking you square in the chest. the impact knocks you onto your back. before you can get up, he’s on top of you, driving his sword into your shoulder.

the pain is so blinding, so white-hot and tortuous that you almost immediately pass out when he pulls it free and tosses it out of your reach. 

sukuna is in your face now, lips peeled back into a smirk as he laughs, the top of his finger slowly dragging down your face.

“putting you down now would be letting this brat off too easy. doing it slowly, however—”

“get off her.”

your heart skips a beat. that voice. 

there’s a flash of recognition in megumi’s eyes. just a for a second. 

“satoru?” 

“is that any way to treat the person who washed your underwear for almost ten years?” he tsks, hands in his pockets as he steps into the alley, quite literally kicking the king of curses off of you.

he sweeps you off the floor as gently as possible, your stomach flipping at the familiar sensation of being teleported.

you’re not in the alley anymore, you’re up on the roof of a building. as soon as satoru sets you on your feet, you look up, studying his face. the eyes you love so much stare back at you. 

the emotions you’d kept bottled up since he’d been gone pour out at once. proof of your heartache, anger, pain, and loneliness spilling over your lash line.

suddenly there’s too much space between you and you tentatively take a step forward. 

“it’s you,” you breathe. “it’s really you.” 

he says your name softly, and arms you’d longed for envelop you. you feel safe, if only for a moment.

“you need to get to ieiri,” he whispers, a hand cupping your cheek gently. “go. i’ll stop him.”

you both close your eyes, as if the words hurt.

_____

“promise me you’ll always be good.” 

megumi sighs, but places his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly.

“i’ll see what i can do.”

[moonstruckme]

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

steve harrington + friends to lovers maybe? definitely feeling lovesick steve rn 😮‍💨

Thanks for requesting lovely mal <3

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 698 words

The movie theater is dark, and yet Steve catches sight of you the second you step inside. His heart does a dumbass little somersault. 

“Y/n’s here?” he whispers to Robin, who’s sitting next to him and using her licorice as a straw. On his other side, Eddie’s kicked his feet up on the seat in front of him like a total asshole. 

“Oh, yeah.” Robin waves to you, and you spot them, heading over. “I invited her.” 

“You didn’t say she was coming.” 

Robin gives Steve a sideways glance. It’s tinged with a meaning he refuses to decode. “I didn’t realize I needed to check with you.” 

He huffs. You’re climbing the steps, still three rows from reaching them. “Move over by Eddie.” 

Robin turns towards him now, eyebrows raising. “You’re not serious.” 

“Go!” 

“Dingus.” She musses his hair spitefully as she stands, just so he’ll have to fix it, waving over her shoulder at you as you start shimmying down their row. 

You wave back, smiling bemusedly as you take her seat beside Steve. “Hey,” you say. 

“Hey.” He’s grinning like an idiot, and he can’t seem to stop. He wasn’t expecting to see you today. “Long time, no see.” 

You go a bit sheepish, the previews casting a red hue over your features. “Yeah, sorry. Work’s been keeping me busy lately. Three people quit at once, so everyone’s expected to cover until they can hire new ones.” 

Steve grimaces. “Yikes.” He has the urge to tell you to quit and let him pay for everything, as if that’s something he can fiscally manage or even remotely normal. “That sucks,” he says instead. 

“Yeah, hopefully it’s not for long.” You get comfy, slipping off your shoes and putting your socked feet up on the seat. Your knees lean onto your shared armrest, within a pinkie’s reach of Steve’s hand. “I actually just got off, I didn’t grab anything from concessions because I was worried I’d miss the beginning.” 

“Oh, no way.” The movie starts, and he lowers his voice but neither of you turn towards the screen. “Want me to run and grab you something?”

You give him a funny smile. It makes your cupid’s bow flatten out and Steve thinks that if he were to kiss you, he’d start there. “No,” you whisper, “you shouldn’t have to miss anything either.” 

“It’s okay,” he promises you. “I don’t even really care if I see this.” He has been looking forward to it ever since he saw the commercial, honestly, but he’s happy to miss it for you. 

“I’m fine,” you reply, “but thanks, Steve.” 

“At least have some of mine.” Eddie shushes him loudly, and Steve kicks the underside of his knee, making the other boy curse. “I’ve got coke and popcorn, that okay?” 

The movie glows blue over your face as you grin, eyes twinkling in the low light. “Classics. But I’m not gonna take your food.” 

“I’m not gonna eat it all,” Steve argues. “These are both extra-larges. You think I bought that all for myself?” He absolutely did. 

You lean in closer, your knees touching the side of his hand. “You paid for them,” you whisper. 

“So?”

“So, I’d feel bad.” 

“Then make it up to me.” Steve hopes he doesn’t look as nervous as he feels. He’s never been able to lay on the charm with you like he can with other girls, he doesn’t know why. Or maybe he does. “Come with us back to my place tonight. We’re ordering pizza.” 

“So,” you murmur through a smile, “make it up to you by taking more of your food, is what you’re saying.” 

“Uh-huh, exactly.” He takes a sip of his coke and then angles the straw in your direction. “Deal?” 

You drop your eyes for a second, shaking your head like he’s silly, and Steve knows he’s won even before you meet his gaze again. 

“Deal.” You wrap your lips around his straw, sucking in a mouthful before letting go. “You drive a hard bargain, Harrington.” 

Steve grins, laying bay in his seat and totally not thinking about how his pinkie is grazing your thigh. “Yeah, that’s what they tell me.” 

[house-of-lovin]

love language

Tara Carpenter x F!Reader

masterlist | over (1) | safety net (3)

Summary: Tara Carpenter loves to play games with you. (inspired by love language by SZA)

Warnings: sexual themes implied, mature language. toxic!tara, jealous!tara.

Note: this was originally going to be a two-parter, but I wanted to keep writing about this dynamic. So I made it into three parts! Sorry for the long wait, I've been deathly ill the last few days, so it's been hard to do anything but sleep :/ but the last part will be posted tomorrow! (idk how i feel abt this but i tried my best lol)

Word Count: 3.7k+

Tara: ‘Last night was fun ;) but had to run!’

At least she had the decency to leave you a text as she left you to wake up in your bed, alone.

Sighing, you sit up; cracks and pops reverberate through the empty room as you stretch your stiff muscles. You run a tired hand on your face and glance at the spot beside you where Tara was just hours ago. 

You should have known she would leave.

You weren’t sure if she even bothered to stay after you had passed from exhaustion after the fourth round. Tara rarely stayed over, her sister’s overprotectiveness made the occasion scarce. Coupled with the fact that the smaller girl thought it crossed boundaries to stay the night. So, the only time she had ever slept was when you fucked her senselessly she physically couldn’t make it home. 

“Morning!” A loud voice interrupts the quietness in your dorm. “I bought the three of us some coffee. By the way, I didn’t appreciate coming home to you and Tara naked. You do you, but at least send a text – or hang a sock on the door… where’d Tara go?”

“Left…” You flush embarrassed, grabbing the shirt on your headboard to slip on, and stepping off your bed. Shivers run through your bare feet as you step on the cold floor. 

“Oh…”

“Yeah… Oh.” You replied bitterly, moving to gather some clothes to start your day; even if it started off on the wrong foot already. 

“...How does that make you feel?” She says after a few moments of silence.

“You’re not gonna therapize me right now, Minds.” You laugh, trying to avoid her probing tone. “It’s too early and I’m nearly naked.”

“You’re really gonna stand there and tell me it doesn’t bother you how she’s acting?” She crosses her arms, fed up with you and her childhood friend’s immature antics. 

“Why would it bother me?” You say as evenly as you can. “We’re just hooking up.”

She scoffs, “Yeah right, Chad told me what happened at the coffee shop last night.”

You roll your eyes, “Of course, he did.”

“Point is… she’s playing games with you and you say that you’re fine with it because you're just hooking up but I can tell it bothers you, Y/N."

You stand rigid, unmoving and slightly uncomfortable. Talking about your feelings has never been your strong suit, maybe that’s why you fell so easily into this routine with Tara. It was all physical and lust-driven; no words have to be uttered when you two are tangled in each other’s sheets. But maybe, somewhere along the way lines began to blur the longer you got to know the Carpenter. The more your lives began to intertwine the harder it became to separate feelings during sex.

It grows increasingly difficult to ignore that thought, when she acts affectionately toward you around your friends. During movie nights, she’d scare off anyone else who dared to sit beside you; sharing a blanket and linking your fingers underneath. And in the classes you had together, she always made sure to save a seat for you beside her, leaning into you as close as she can.

“I promise… I’m fine. Tara can do whatever she wants.” You maintain eye contact with your roommate; trying to remain unbothered.

“I can’t deal with you two.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m just saying… you two have danced around each other long enough, maybe it's time you really talk to each other. Before someone gets hurt.”

You stay silent thinking over her words.

“Look... I really didn’t want to like you when I first moved here – getting stabbed makes people paranoid, you know.” She chuckles dryly. “But I guess the odds are finally in my favour 'cause I got a roommate I actually like… so figure your shit out because I’d like to keep hanging out together as a group please.”

You chuckle, breaking out of your trance. You send her a lopsided smile, appreciating her words. “I like being your roommate too, Minds.” 

“Gross, this is too much for me now… go take a shower, you reek of sex.” She purposefully avoids your eyes, turning to grab her now lukewarm coffee. 

You roll your eyes, laughing at Mindy's antics but grab some clothes anyway to start your day.

●●●

“So I just handed in my last assignment, which means it’s officially spring break for me… and everyone’s gonna be out tonight. Wanna come over?” Tara slides into your booth out of nowhere.

You flinch, slightly startled; dropping the pen you were using with a clang. You were currently in the common room on campus attempting to get some studying in before your final exam. “What?”

She rolls her eyes but smiles fondly at you. “I said, everyone’s out for the night. Come over… I miss you.” 

Your cheeks flush as your heart darts wildly in your chest at her words. “We were just together last night…”

“Yeah, but I had to leave so soon cause Sam was coming home early.” She pouted, moving closer to you to swing her leg over yours. 

You clear your throat, glancing down. “I still have to study for my exam tomorrow.” 

“Come over after you study then…” She places a hand on your inner thigh, swiping her thumb on the fabric of your pants.

“Tara…” You were trying your hardest to gather some sort of self-control but it was becoming increasingly difficult when she started leaving light kisses on your shoulder. “Tara there are other people around.”

You were lucky you had chosen a booth that was tucked in the corner of the room, facing away from possible wandering eyes. Even still, this was definitely not the time nor the place, no matter how much you wanted to give in. 

“Don’t care…” Her kisses on your clothed shoulder move upward toward your neck. You grab at her waist, trying to push her back. “Tara, seriously.”

She simply wraps her free arm around your shoulder, moving closer to you. “I’ll only stop if you promise to come over…” 

You feel her bite down on the bruise you tried to cover up with your hoodie; you wince. “Ow… okay, okay. I’ll come over, now stop before someone reports us for public indecency.”

She rolls her eyes, but smirks smugly, unwrapping herself from you. You’d be a liar if you said you didn’t immediately feel cold from the lack of contact. “You’re no fun… but I’ll see you tonight.”

The Carpenter doesn’t say anything else. Just slides out of the booth, gathers her things and walks away from you.

You drop your head against the headrest of the booth, heaving out a heavy sigh. You feel like the most pathetic person in the world for giving in so easily, especially since Mindy’s words kept ringing in your ears all morning.

Later that night, you found yourself standing in front of the Carpenter’s apartment, contemplating if it wasn’t too late to turn around and run away. This is a bad idea and you knew it. You should have padlocked yourself in your dorm and not left until the weekend was over. But Mindy had convinced you this was the best chance for you to finally talk to Tara.

So here you were rooted dumbly in front of her door. Unable to bring yourself to knock.

The door opening makes the decision for you. “I heard you stomping down the hall, were you not gonna to knock?”

She has a smirk planted across her lips as she leans against the doorframe. 

“Uh… I was just about to...”

You see her brow raise in amusement but doesn’t question your awkwardness; electing to pull you into her apartment with a tug on your wrist. “Come on… I have a movie on and popcorn waiting for us.”

You allow her to lead you through the apartment and then to the couch, pushing you to sit down. Upon sitting, you take a moment to scan the living room; taking note of the one light coming from the kitchen, casting darkness to the rest of the room. She has candles lit up on the coffee table across from you, with bowls of an assortment of snacks. 

This suddenly felt more… intimate. You felt a pang of guilt for thinking she had only invited you over as a booty call.

“Um… what is this?” You ask dumbly.

“What’s it look like? Movie night.” She chuckles before plopping down beside you and draping a blanket over your legs. You feel her move closer, pressing your thighs together. 

The two of you haven’t had a movie night since before you had fallen into this friends-with-benefits situation. They were actually the reason how you and Tara became closer in the early stages of your friendship. 

Two months ago, she had invited you over for a movie night under the guise of simply being bored, but when she had opened the door you saw the slight redness in her irises and the tear-stained marks on her cheeks. You said nothing and just allowed her to pull you inside. In your attempts to cheer her up, you may have made a trip to the liquor store around the corner and drank away your sorrows with the Carpenter. That was the first night you and Tara had ever slept together.

“Oh… I just thought–never mind. Movie night sounds nice.” You smile, appreciating her efforts. Maybe that talk can wait another time. You didn’t want to ruin the night when she was clearly trying.

“Good.” She returns your grin, settling in to lean against you as she entangles your legs. “No talking this is my favourite part.”

“The movie just started.”

“Hush.”

●●●

Thirty minutes must have passed when you felt a hand run up and down your thigh. Your eyes snap away from the TV, looking down atop Tara’s head as she leans on your chest. You couldn’t see her face from this angle but you can tell she was enjoying how you tensed in her touch.

You ignore the movements, turning back to face the screen. But Tara doesn’t seem satisfied as she tilts her head up. The feeling of her soft lips brushing against your neck makes you stiffen even more in her hold. And like earlier, she begins to leave a litter of light pecks on your still-bruised neck. 

“Tara…”

She hums, scooting up to reach your jaw. Her fingers tickle your sides as she slips her fingers under your shirt to grab your waist, shuffling to sit on your lap. Tara kisses that spot just under your ear that always makes you cave – marking you. She has you now and she knew it. 

A part of you wants to bang your head against the wall because of course this movie night would eventually lead to sex. It always leads to sex with Tara. It was like a vicious cycle you couldn’t get off of. But the way she touches you feels so heavenly that you couldn’t even think clearly enough to stop her.

“Take this off…” She mutters, bunching up your shirt in a fist as she pushes it up. You pull back to obey her request, hastily yanking the fabric off your head and connecting your mouths in a harsh kiss. You slip your hand under her shirt, tracing your fingers dangerously close to the waistband of her shorts. She whines under the cold touch. 

“No teasing…” She whispers before grabbing at your cheeks to pull you impossibly closer; the feeling of her tongue brushing against yours feels sinful.

You wrap an arm around her waist, ready to flip her on her back and take her on this couch when suddenly a frantic knock startles you both. 

“What the fuck?” Tara mutters, pulling away from you but keeping a firm grip on your shoulders. She was panting heavily, lips already beginning to bruise. 

“I thought you said everyone was out for the night?” You heave, also trying to catch your breath. 

“They were…” She mutters, sliding off your lap to toss you your shirt. You slip it over your head swiftly, following the smaller girl as she walks to the door. 

She takes a look through the peephole and the scowl on her face was an indication that she was less than pleased. Then she moves to unlock the numerous amounts of locks on her door, yanking it open.

The twins, Anika and Ethan stood on the other side of the door.

“What are you guys doing here?” Tara says unamused, crossing her arms over her chest. You move to stand behind her, connecting eyes with your roommate. 

“Mindy said it’s movie night, so we came over,” Chad answers from behind his twin, holding up a plastic bag with a large smile on his face. “Don’t worry, we brought snacks!”

You send your roommate a glare, grateful Tara had her back to you. Slightly irritated because Mindy had been the one insisting you go see Tara.

Tara sighs, dropping her crossed arms. She glances at you for a brief moment, before opening the door wider to let the others in. 

“I’m gonna make some more popcorn…” The Carpenter mutters, leaving the room. 

You immediately corner Mindy. “What the hell, man? You told me to talk to her, what are you doing here?”

She raises an unimpressed brow, pointing at your neck. “Did she leave that hickey on your neck when you guys were talking too?”

You slap a hand on the spot she’s pointing at, attempting to hide it. “Shut up… I was going to talk to her later.”

“No, you weren’t.” She whispers, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “You two were going to have sex and ignore the talking part… like you always do.”

You cross your arms, scowling, “So you gathered the entire village to cockblock me instead?” 

“Yes.” She responds unapologetically. You stare at your roommate for a few seconds. Eventually, you groan lowly, knowing she’s right. You were about to give in to Tara and until you two have talked about what this is, that probably wasn’t the best idea. 

Ultimately, that chance to talk with Tara never came as the friend group all settled back in the living room to watch a plethora of movies for the rest of the evening. And when Sam came home, everyone knew to call it a night.

Maybe you dodged a bullet by not confronting Tara tonight. Not quite sure what you even wanted to say to her, yet.

Hey Tara, remember when we agreed to just be friends with benefits? Yeah well I caught feelings... actually I may be in love with you. And it hurts when you run off with other people. Ha. Sorry.

She would run away from you. Tara was like a deer, you needed to be cautious upon approach. But even then, it was getting increasingly difficult to just remain friends with her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Tara leans against the doorframe; watching as you slip on your jacket to leave. 

“I have my exam in the morning, but maybe after.” You stand unmoving for a few moments, wanting nothing more than to leave a kiss on her cheek but her sister was standing right there, watching the two of you with an observant gaze. So instead, you squeeze her shoulder, send her a tight-lipped smile and catch up with the rest of the group down the hall. 

You missed Tara’s disappointed frown. 

●●●

“What’s wrong with you?” Anika asks over the loud music.

Since it was officially spring break for everyone; students who decided to stay on campus have been throwing parties non-stop. And currently, that's where Tara found herself; huddled on a couch on a Thursday night beside Anika and Mindy, sipping on a red-solo cup as she watches people drunkenly dance around the room. 

“What? There’s wrong with me.” She glances at her friend, confused. 

“You’ve been staring holes at the front door for the last ten minutes.” Mindy counters, peering over her girlfriend to look at her childhood friend. 

“You can just say you’re waiting for Y/N.” Anika teases, bumping her shoulder. "We all know."

Tara rolls her eyes, “I’m not waiting for anyone.”

The Carpenter hears a scoff, “You didn’t even wanna go to this party until you heard she might be coming.” 

You’ve been…distant with her lately. 

Giving half-excuses as to why you can’t hang out, cancelling last minute on group activities or taking hours to respond through texts.

She hasn’t seen you since your friends crashed movie night and that was already a few days ago. You never did meet up with her the next day, and since then you’ve made yourself scarce; not hanging out with the friend group, always seemingly busy. 

She had confronted Chad on your whereabouts, she figured he would know where you have been spending your time, given your… close friendship with the boy. But Chad had merely said you were helping your uncle with his shop uptown during the break, hence why you haven’t been around.

Tara was hoping she can get a chance to be alone with you tonight and ask why you have been so closed off with her when she caught wind that Chad might be dragging you to the party.

“Shut up.” She mutters, sipping on the cheap alcohol. “She’s been acting weird lately, I just want answers.” 

The two girls nodded, unconvinced. For the amount of times, you two say you’re just ‘hooking up’ Tara sure played the part of the concerned girlfriend perfectly. 

Eventually, Tara’s wandering eyes snap to the door, catching a glimpse of the top of your head as push past the crowd with Chad and Ethan trailing behind you. You seem tense, looking like you’d rather be anywhere else than here. 

Before she can even think about it, she’s standing, about to stomp over to you but a hand on her wrist stops her.

“What?” She glances over at Mindy.

“At least, let Y/N grab a drink before you ambush her.” She reasons, glancing over at you from across the room.

Tara turns to find you, Chad and Ethan greeting a group of people, smiling and laughing. The group eventually trickles over to the kitchen, no doubt grabbing some drinks.

“Fine…” She mutters, sitting back down in her spot as you disappear from her sight.

Tara waits for you to come out of the kitchen for the next ten minutes; patience thinning by the second. This was ridiculous, you were literally another room away. Why is she waiting for you to come back? 

As the smaller girl's eyes remain unmoving from the kitchen door, she eventually sees you walking out with an unfamiliar girl beside you. You were smiling, clearly entertained by the conversation. Tara feels an uncomfortable pang in her chest at your undivided attention towards the girl. 

The Carpenter can’t help her moving legs as she stands, abandoning her cup on a random table; stalking toward you with an unrelenting gaze. Before you can even step into the living room, Tara is dragging you upstairs by the wrist; leaving the girl you were conversing with confused.

“What the hell— Tara!” You stumble behind her, desperately trying not to trip on the steps as she tugs you along with an unabated grip. 

She pushes you through a random door, slamming it shut behind her. Tara crosses her arms just glaring at you.

“What’d you do that for?” You huff, feeling slightly irritated. 

She raises a brow at your tone, “Wanna tell me why you’ve been distant with me lately?”

You stand straighter, “I’m not… I’ve just been busy.” 

Tara chuckles dryly, “Busy enough to ignore my texts?"

You didn't answer and the scoff Tara lets out tells you it was the wrong choice to make.

"You didn't seem busy enough when you were entertaining that girl downstairs.” Tara couldn't stop the words from leaving her mouth, fed up with the silence.

She sees a flash of irritation in your eyes as you cross your arms, defensive. “Are you serious? Why do you even care? You’re not my girlfriend.”

Tara’s brows raise in surprise. For a brief moment, you regretted your words as she looked slightly hurt before her face drops impassively. “I didn’t know it was a crime to be worried about your friends.” 

You scoff, “Yeah friends…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” She stares at you, not believing that for a minute. 

“What is going on with you?” Tara steps forward, but you take a step back. This time, the Carpenter can’t hide the frown on her lips. 

“I think we should stop this…us.” You gesture between you two. 

“What?” Tara's forehead creases in confusion, unsure if she heard you correctly. 

“I can’t do it anymore.” You mutter, eyes trained to your shoes; unable to look her in the eyes. 

“Why?” She takes a step forward, reaching for your arm but you yank back.

“Cause I caught feelings!” You shout making Tara flinch; the repressed feelings you've been hopelessly trying to bury come hurling out; unable to keep them at bay. You knew this situation would only end in heartbreak the longer it continued. So you made the decision to break your heart first before she got the chance to. “I can’t do the games anymore… I-I'm tired, Tara. I think we should stop.”

“I–I…” Tara stutters, taken aback by your confession. "Y/N... we agreed we're just hooking up."

You laugh solemnly, roughly rubbing your eyes. Was it possible to feel your own heartbreak? That's really all she had to say? "Yeah... well too late for that."

"Y/N..."

“You don’t have to say anything else. You made your feelings clear. But I caught feelings, okay? I know it wasn’t part of the plan, but it just happened. So I’m sorry, but I just need some space at the moment.”

Without waiting for a response, you brush past the smaller girl, slamming the door behind you. 

Tara stands rooted in her spot, unable to move as you leave her to process what you just said. 

●●●

Reader:

:)

[all-about-kyu]

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏: 𝑬𝒓𝒊𝒄'𝒔 𝑩𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒚𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍

Summary: After doing a few videos to do promotions for your upcoming album, your group mate tells you about a new side of the internet. You have no idea the chaos you and your group mates cause.

Pairing: fanboy!Eric x fem idol!reader (Fey) x fem!Hyunjoon (Hwall) Side pairings: fanboy!Kevin x fem!Jacob (Jackie), fanboy!Sangyeon x fem!Younghoon x fem!Haknyeon, fanboy!Juyeon x fem!Hyunjae, fanboy!Sunwoo x fem!Chanhee (Chanhi) x fem!Changmin (Changmi) Tropes: idol x fan, strangers to lovers, gender bend au  Genre: humor, smut, fluff  Rating: R 18+  Warnings: language, crude humor, nsfw rpf/art twitter, mentions and discussion of sex, pre-poly negotiations, kissing Smut Warnings: threesomes (ffm), fxf content, under negotiated(?) kinks, oral (f receive), face sitting, safe sex, light impact play, breast play, hair pulling, fingering, premature ejaculation, grinding, dry humping

Word Count: 3,936 Note: To join the tag list reply to the masterlist or send me an ask! If I missed a warning please let me know!!

Chapter 12 ➔ Masterlist ➔ Chapter 14

No way that just happened. He thought hi-touch would be nothing but saying hi and moving on. When he got to Hyunjoon she pressed something into his hand. He didn’t look at it until he was in the lobby and everyone was minding their own business. It’s a hotel key with a number written on it in Sharpie. She gave him her hotel key. 

“Eric! Eric!” Juyeon calls, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost… are you okay?” 

“Y-yeah… I good!” 

He’s absolutely not good. His mind is racing a mile a minute. 

“We’re going to get k-bbq.” Sangyeon said walking out of the concert hall, “Someone mentioned that the girls are going out after. We won’t search them out but if we see them it’ll be a cool experience.”

“I’m gonna… go visit someone…” Eric says just above a whisper.

“Bro you never pass up free food and-“

“Who said it was free?” Sangyeon cuts Sunwoo off.

“You’re the oldest you pay.”

Eric lets out a shaky breath, the room key feels like a ton of bricks in his pocket, “Y-yeah I’m gonna skip dinner tonight… I have to take care of stuff… Here’s my house key, I’ll see you guys later tonight.” He tries to sound casual as he tosses Kevin his house keys. 

He’s half-lying to his friends but he doesn’t want to get in trouble with Hyunjoon’s manager or any other staff if he says anything. Lying is safer for everyone right now. 

“Well… we’ll wait for the bootycall story in the morning.” Kevin teases, “If we see your girls at dinner we’ll send you a text.”

Eric nods and walks away rather quickly. He knows the members won’t be leaving for a little bit still so blending into people for send-off is the safest bet. Waiting among the masses of people, he tries his best not to panic. Never in a million years did he think that his favorite celebrity would give him their room key, let alone someone who could get in some really big trouble for doing so. 

The girls start coming out of the building intermixed with their staff members. Younghoon is going to immediately go back to her hotel room and pass out. The exhaustion is far too evident on her face. Changmi and Chanhi are both giggling and clinging to each other as they walk still ensuring that they say bye to fans who stayed to say goodbye. When Hyunjoon starts walking out Eric swears the world stops. She’s worn outfits like this before. Mostly in dance practice videos, a black sports bra with black sweats. She has a pair of compression shorts underneath that only peek out enough to see the waistband of them. Although she doesn’t make it obvious, when her eyes fall on him she holds eye contact for a second longer than she probably should. It’s enough to make Eric feel slightly insane. 

Once all the members are in their vans and out of sight, Eric checks the distance to the hotel. It’s just barely too long to walk considering the girls just left by car. Thankfully, there were taxis and rideshares everywhere. 

It only takes him just over 10 minutes to arrive at the hotel. A few of the members are already heading back out again. You are dressed in comfy casual clothes as you bounce and smile while dragging Jaehyun with you through the lobby. Jae doesn’t look particularly happy to be going back out late at night but she’s also known to do anything you ask of her. A few other members follow behind but as expected Younghoon is nowhere to be seen.

Eric lets out another shaky breath before pulling the key card from his pocket again.

“Just get in the elevator and go up to her room.” He whispers to himself.

This doesn’t feel real. This can’t be real. He should be waking up from an alcohol-induced dream any minute now. The pain he felt from pinching himself proves otherwise. The trip up to her room felt like nothing and everything at once, as if he blinked and suddenly was in front of Hyunjoon’s door. He has the key, still, it feels disrespectful not to knock first. 

“You have a key, you could just come in.” She teases with a giggle as she opens the door. 

Eric’s mind goes blank. Her short hair is tussled and slightly damp, clearly just showered. Her body is wrapped in a fluffy robe which he assumes to be the only thing covering her. 

“I um- I- it seemed rude not to knock first.”

She smiles sweetly and takes his hand in hers, “Come on in before someone sees you pretty boy.”

Eric lets her pull him into the room and close the door behind him. He knew Hyunjoon was taller than him. He knew in theory, he knew from hi-touch. Having her here right in front of him no more than a few inches from him reminds him of that fact. It makes his brain stop and his stomach flood with butterflies.

“You look nervous.” She says softly, reaching out to cup his cheek in her hand, “Are you okay?”

“It feels… really unreal…”

“Are you comfortable?”

He nods.

“Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” He nearly whispers, leaning into her touch.

“Good. Now, what’s your name, pretty boy?” 

She knew his name from the fan sign but she couldn’t let her small obsession with him be too obvious.

“Eric.” 

She smiles at him and takes his hand in her free one, “Are you comfortable with me kissing you, Eric?”

He nods, “I’ll take anything you give me.”

A flash of something dark passes through her eyes before they go soft again. Though, a knowing smirk still sits on her pretty lips. Pulling him further into the room, Hyunjoon guides Eric to sit down on her bed. The dark-haired woman immediately climbs into his lap and rests her hands on his shoulders. Eric can’t help but notice your things on the other bed. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks, lightly toying with the collar of his shirt.

“What if-“ He cuts himself off with a quick glance at the other bed. 

“She’ll be out for a little bit. We have time to do as much or as little as you’d like.”

That’s all it takes. Eric pushes up to capture Hyunjoon’s lips. She lets out a small surprised noise but still kisses him back happily. She lets her hands run down his front to find his hands fisting the sheets. Guiding his hands to cup her hips, Eric simply allows the tall woman to do as she pleases. As she starts rolling her hips against him, her robe starts to come loose. 

Hyunjoon continues to grind against him and eagerly kisses him back as if she’s done it a million times. Eric is fighting against cumming in his pants. He never thought he’d get to come near this woman let alone have sex with her. With some sort of randomly found confidence, he unties the already loosened knot holding her robe closed. 

“Eager are we?” Hyunjoon teases between kisses, “Go on. You have your fun.”

Reluctantly he pulls away from the kiss. As Eric’s lust-glazed eyes wander his eyes fixate on her chest. He must’ve stared a moment too long because Hyunjoon took his hand in hers again and slowly trailed it up her body. Only then does Eric process the very wet patch on his pants from her grinding against him. 

“You’re allowed to touch me, pretty boy. I told you to have fun.” She says in a soft sultry tone. 

“J-joon I… I wanna-“

“Hmm? What is it, Eric?”

Eric’s hands are still under hers as she places them on her breasts. He takes it upon himself to start toying with her nipples, making her rut against him harder. A small broken gasp escapes her lips when he starts leaving wet open open-mouthed kisses along her throat.

“You’re far too dressed, baby.” Hyunjoon muses still half lost in pleasure. Her fingers just barely tease under the hem of his shirt, nails lightly grazing against his muscles. “Let’s take this off.”

It takes some convincing for Eric to move his hands and lips for all of a split second when Hyunjoon pulls the loose-fitting top from his body. The moment the fabric is off his body, Eric’s hands fly to hold her waist again. Hyunjoon shudders at the feeling of her clit dragging against his cock beneath the last bit of clothing separating them. Her robe is hanging useless from her elbows mostly poking behind her. 

“Wanna make you cum first.” Eric barely whispers against her neck, “Wanna see you cum. please?”

“You like me using you for my own pleasure, don’t you pretty boy?”

Eric nods slightly still lining kisses anywhere he can reach, “You take whatever you want from me.”

Hyunjoon continues to grind against him. All Eric can do is help guide her hips and continue to kiss any skin she allows him. Her moans start to pitch up and get louder. Had it not been for Eric’s assistance her movements would’ve been sloppy and erratic. She rolls her hips particularly harshly making Eric keen out a whimper. 

“You gonna cum in your pants just from me grinding on you?” She chuckles, “Thought you wanted to make me cum first? Use your body for my pleasure before you get anything properly.”

Again, Eric nods mindlessly. 

Hyunjoon chuckles and pushes Eric back flat against the bed. She stands up and lets her robe fully fall off her body. Eric’s breath hitches as she tugs his pants and underwear off together, lightly musing about the wet spot she created under her breath.

“Come here, pretty boy.” She hums, climbing back onto the bed and spreading her legs fully. 

Eric doesn’t need to be told what to do. Even though his almost painfully hard cock is now exposed and begging to be touched, he still puts the singer’s pleasure first as promised. His tongue is flat against her entrance as soon as he can get it there. Hyunjoon lets a long moan escape her lips as she tangles her fingers into his pink-purple hair.

“Fuck,” she chuckles lowly, “So good for me, pretty boy.”

Eric moans against her again, subtly grinding again the mattress. Pushing her hands further into his hair, Hyunjoon pulls him away slightly. The moment their eyes meet Eric swears his heart does about fifty backflips. Hyunjoon’s eyes are clouded with lust, glazed over with pure arousal. It’s enough to have Eric feel small beneath her gaze. She pushes his head back between her legs. Not a single thought passes through his mind as he laps at her entrance. His nose gently bumps against her clit in the process. He takes his time, each lick languid but still desperate. There was no way he was letting this go to waste. Eric lets his hands wander up her body. One stopped to hold her hip while the other toyed with her chest. Hyunjoon puts one hand over her on her chest. She lets him do as he wishes but still cups his 

“Pretty boy,” Hyunjoon hums, tugging his hair slightly, “thought you didn’t want to get caught. You’re taking your time, we could get interrupted at any moment if we keep up this pace.”

Eric moans as he grinds against the mattress, “Don’t care, wanna taste you. Wanna be used by you.”

“Use your fingers, baby. Make me cum on your fingers. You can use two, it’s okay I had a bit of fun earlier”

As much as he wants to continue taking his time, he pushes two fingers in as he was told. His tongue skillfully flicks at her clit as he curls his fingers inside her. Hyunjoon’s back arches off the bed as Eric wraps his lips around the bud and sucks lightly. He continues lapping at her clit as he picks up the pace of his fingers.

“You’re so good with your fingers, pretty boy.” She praises, “Gonna make me cum.”

“Please,” Eric moans against her, pistoning his fingers faster, “Wanna taste, want it so bad.”

“Eric! Fuck! Fuck! Cumming, I’m cumming!” She moans loudly.

Her thighs shake and quiver around his head, trying to close together due to the pleasure. Eric moves his hand from her hip to her thigh to hold it down. Hearing how she moans his name almost makes him cum right then and there embarrassingly all over the hotel sheets. Hyunjoon tugs at his hair harshly as she rides out her high. The pain of her grip has nothing on the absolutely euphoric feeling of being with her, nothing could.

“Fuck…” she chuckles through a long breath, gently petting his head.

Eric pillows his head against her thigh, looking up at her with pleading, sparkly eyes. He doesn’t say a word and just watches her for a few moments. She puckers her lips slightly, silently calling him up for a kiss. Eric does his best to remain collected as he pushes himself up and holds himself over her as he leans down for a kiss. She wraps her arms over his shoulders and her legs around his waist. Tasting herself on his lips she moans into the kiss. Both of them with swollen lips from earlier. Hyunjoon leverages her weight, wrapping her legs tighter around Eric’s waist, and flips them over so she’s in his lap again.

“You have a condom, pretty boy?” She pants against his lips, grinding against his hard member.

“Wallet.” He mumbles against her lips, “In my pants.”

Hyunjoon reaches blindly for his pants somewhere on the bed until she finds them and reaches inside to grab his wallet. Eric tries to pull it from her hand but she refuses with a light giggle against his lips.

“Let me,” she smirks against his lips.

Pulling away from the kiss, she opens the wallet to grab the condom. As she does so, a small picture falls out. Eric flushes red trying to hide it beneath his hand. It’s too late though, Hyunjoon already saw it. It’s a cute picture of you and her from earlier this year. Climbing out of his lap, she rips the condom open and takes his cock in her other hand.

“It’s cute that you have a picture of me and Fey in your wallet. Looking like your two pretty girlfriends. Is that what you tell people? That we’re your girlfriends?”

Eric whines slightly and looks away, “I- it’s just-” 

He gets cut off with a moan as Hyunjoon rolls the condom down his length. She lets out another low chuckle seeing his already fucked out look. Climbing back up into his lap, she hovers herself above him, angling his cock to her entrance.

“Are you ready, baby?” She asks, rubbing the tip of his cock through her folds.

“Mmm~” Eric hums, leaning his face up towards her hoping for a kiss.

As she sinks down onto his cock, Hyunjoon meets his request and kisses him through a moan. Eric grips onto her hips tightly, trying his best not to cum prematurely. Hyunjoon sits still for a few moments, gauging Eric’s state. His eyes are glazed over and desperate.

“Move,” he practically begs, “please, need-” he gets cut off with another moan.

Hyunjoon starts bouncing herself on his cock at a slow pace to start. It doesn’t take long for the two of them to fuck as if they’re in heat. Hyunjoon bounces harshly down onto his cock as Eric thrusts his hips up to meet hers. They hardly notice the passage of time or the noise level. They couldn’t care less how loud they may be to their neighboring rooms. (Hyunjoon makes a mental note to apologize to Jaehyun and Jackie in the morning). 

“You having fun?” You call into the room as soon as the door opens.

You watch how Eric eyes open wide seeing you. It’s incredibly clear that he did not expect you to be back already. As if nothing is out of the ordinary, you watch how your girlfriend continues to fuck herself on Eric’s cock. Placing the leftovers on the small table you walk over to the pair. You pinch Hyunjoon’s cheeks between your fingers and force her gaze onto you. Her eyebrows are furrowed together in pleasure, eyes glazed over completely lost in lust.

“Hi, baby.” You hum, “Are you having fun?”

“Mmm~” She hums.

Leaning down you let your hair fall in your face as you kiss her deeply.  Eric moans in unison and his hips stutter and he thrusts shallowly. Hyunjoon moans into the kiss. Her hands immediately tug at your clothes silently asking you to strip too. It takes all of a few moments for you to be just as naked as the other two. You find your girlfriend’s lips again and Hyunjoon whines and moans into the kiss. Still, her hands return to Eric’s shoulders as he rides out his high.

“You okay, baby?” You ask softly, barely pulling away from the kiss.

“I-” Hyunjoon starts.

“Not you, sweetheart. I know you’re okay. If anything you want more.” You giggle.

“M-me?” Eric asks quietly as the realization of his early orgasm sinks in. 

You push your hair out of your face and look Eric in the eyes, ��Yes, baby, are you okay?”

Lifting Hyunjoon up, you help her off of Eric’s softening member. The moment Hyunjoon is lying out on the bed beside Eric, you immediately push your fingers inside her again. Your thumb rubs tight circles against her sensitive clit making her moan desperately. Eric’s eyes fixate on how your hand pistons into her with familiar skill.

“Don’t worry about her. I can handle her. How are you feeling?”

“‘M good. Can I–”

“Let’s get this off of you, yeah?”

Eric nods, “‘M sorry.”

You shake your head and carefully pull the used condom off of him. Your girlfriend still writhes on your fingers as you place gentle kisses across Eric’s face. Tossing the used condom in the direction of the trash hoping for the best but not caring too much. 

“Baby don’t be sorry.” You muse, pressing more soft kisses across his face, “You had a good time and–”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you get cut off by Hyunjoon’s moans.

“Go on baby, cum all over my hand.” You chuckle.

Hyunjoon rolls her hips down onto your fingers as her second orgasm hits her with full force. Your hair falls down into your face again as your gaze falls onto your pretty girlfriend. Eric’s eyes stay fixated on her as well. Hyunjoon barely catches her breath before you climb your way over her and sit on her face. Immediately Hyunjoon laps at your pussy eating you out like you’re her favorite meal. Eric barely grazes his fingers over your thighs. You jerk your head toward him as you grind against your girlfriend’s face. Eric surprises himself with the boldness of his action as he holds your face in his hand, pulling you forward into a kiss. You moan into his mouth as Hyunjoon smacks her hand down against your ass. 

“She’s doing so good. You think you can do just as good… maybe even better next time?”

“Next time?” He asks into the kiss.

You moan against his lips when Hyunjoon sucks particularly hard on your clit, “Yeah, next time.”

Hyunjoon reaches out one hand in search of Eric’s. The moment her hand is in his again, she guides him to your chest. A small whimper escapes your lips and Eric immediately swallows it. Hyunjoon takes her hand back and braces her hands on your hips. She pushes your body up from your waist for a moment.

“Why don’t you kiss her tits, Eric? She’s sensitive.”

Hyunjoon immediately pulls you back down and continues her ministration. Eric does as he’s told and lets his kisses wander lower onto your chest. Wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, he rolls it around his tongue. The noises that are pulled from you are something Eric never wants to forget. As you grind harder against your girlfriend the noises you let out get more and more pitchy and breathy. Eric nips and rolls your nipple between his teeth while he plays with the other with his fingers. You start to lose your rhythm as your orgasm rapidly approaches. Hyunjoon guides your hips at the pace she wants until you finally reach your high. You grip Eric’s hair as he continuously plays with your chest. You drop your head back and pant as you come blacked from your high. Eric gently litters kisses along your chest and collarbones. The gesture helps you catch your breath again. Eric helps you shift off of Hyunjoon and tugs you into his lap. 

“Are you okay?” Hyunjoon teases slightly, face still slick with arousal.

“Mm,” you hum, already half asleep cuddled up to Eric.

“Should I- um- should–” Eric stutters out.

“Stay,” you mumble back, “you’re tired too, I know it.”

Hyunjoon giggles and leans forward to capture you in a kiss despite still being comfortably nestled in Eric’s lap. She of course leans up to also kiss Eric. The taste of you on her lips makes his head dizzy with want. You said there’s always another time for that and he can only hope that’s true.

Eric picks up the ring on the chain around your neck, "This looks familiar," he chuckles.

"This one too?" Hyunjoon teases, lifting a similarly styled ring around her neck.

Eric chuckles, "Yeah, I didn't say it earlier but they do look very familiar."

"Hope you don't mind me borrowing them." she chuckles.

Eric shakes his head and smiles. You just snuggle up closer than you already were. He might not admit it right now but knowing he's not crazy for his missing rings is comforting. They look damn good on the two of you too.

“Do you wanna clean up and we can cuddle?” Hyunjoon offers, seeing how both of you are fading fast.

“That sounds nice.” You hum, shifting slightly in Eric’s lap, “Carry me?”

Eric giggles quietly, “Okay.”

By the time you’re all cleaned up and comfy in bed together you can feel the tension enter Eric’s body again. You shift between your girlfriend and Eric, Hyunjoon spooning you from behind while you have your head pillowed against Eric’s chest.

“What’s wrong?”

“Um…” Eric starts, “You’re dating each other right…?”

Hyunjoon hums, reaching over to put a hand over Eric’s gently rubbing his knuckles, “Yeah, we are… is that okay?”

Eric nods carefully, “Yeah… but what does that mean here?”

“What do you want it to mean?” You ask sleepily.

Eric shifts slightly uncomfortably, “You’re celebrities… I don’t want you to risk anything for a– I’m just a fan I could never ask you to… I don’t know…”

Hyunjoon sits up, unbothered by her less-than-dressed state, and leans over you to kiss Eric’s cheek, “Hand me your phone, Eric.” Cautiously, he hands her his phone, ignoring the copious amounts of texts from the other boys, “There’s our numbers, I already made a group chat. Just rest and we’ll keep in contact, okay?”

“Now sleep, rest while you can. I assume you’re following us to the other stops, right?”

Eric gets comfy again and snuggles close, “Yeah, we, my friends and I are flying out in the morning…”

“So you really should sleep,” Hyunjoon giggles.

“Go to sleep.” You smile softly, kissing his jaw, “Goodnight, Eric.”

“Good night, girls.”

COPYRIGHT ALL-ABOUT-KYU 2024© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

Networks: @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @raibebe

[pedroscurls]

Always Been You (Part 6).

Character(s): no-outbreak!Joel Miller x fem!Reader Summary: After the night you shared with Joel, you decide that you're finally ready to get back out there and date. Word count: 3,804 Author's Note: The angst is finally here y'all... This is the chapter right before the next time jump! Stay tuned and enjoy. Warning: Cursing, yelling. SERIES MASTERLIST

“You tellin’ me that neither of you talked about what happened that night?” Tommy asked, sitting across from Joel in his kitchen. 

“No,” Joel sighed. “I ain’t even sure if she remembers.”

“It’s been two weeks, Joel. Why don’t you just bring it up?” 

“Because if she doesn’t remember, how embarrassing would that be?” Joel shook his head. “What am I even supposed to say? Hey, d’ya remember that night where we fell asleep on your couch? Yeah, d’ya remember that dance we shared? How we almost kissed?” 

“Yes, exactly that. Say exactly that,” Tommy said. 

“Nah,” Joel replied. “I’ll just let it be. We’re fine the way we are.”

“Don’t that get tiring?” Tommy asked. “You keep tellin’ yourself that and sure, it’s been two years since y’all met, but it’s only a matter of time that she starts dating. Then what are you gonna do?” 

Joel shrugged. “I don’t know, Tommy.”

“You love her, don’t you?” 

Joel tightened his jaw, looking away from his younger brother for a moment. “You already know the answer to that, Tommy.”

“I wanna hear you say it.” 

Joel grumbled and stood up from the kitchen table to walk around the counter to refill his coffee mug. He leaned against the counter and looked over at Tommy, who was leaning back against his seat with a knowing smirk on his face. 

“Joel, just say it.”

“Yes, I love her,” Joel answered. “I love her so much, Tommy, but I’m scared. The last time I felt this way about someone, she left and don’t get me wrong, she gave me Sarah, but it still hurt like hell,” he admitted. 

“Yeah, but she was–”

“Don’t,” Joel said. 

“All I’m sayin’ is that she ain’t nothin’ like Sarah’s mom.” 

“How d’ya know?” Joel asked. “What happens if we do get together and it doesn’t work out? What happens then, hm? It ain’t just me that will be getting hurt. It’s Sarah too.”

“Love ain’t always easy,” Tommy shrugged. “And it’s harder when you’ve got a kid, but you ever wonder if she loves you too?”

Joel bit his lower lip, looking down at his mug. It was all he could think about in the last two weeks. Joel had always noticed the way you looked at him, how you always gave him your undivided attention, how you bit your lower lip whenever he complimented you, the subtle touches on his arm, but he just assumed it was because you were so comfortable with him. After all, you both were best friends. 

“I don’t know, Tommy.” 

“Joel,” he chuckled. “She fell asleep with you… On top of you.”

“Best friends–”

“Don’t do that,” Tommy finished. “We both know friends don’t do that.” 

“I just don’t want to lose her,” Joel said honestly. “I don’t want to risk what we built.” 

“This could be your one,” Tommy replied. “She’s good with Sarah. She tolerates you.” 

Joel rolled his eyes and glanced over at his phone, seeing your name pop up on the screen. He looked over the message and furrowed a brow, handing it to Tommy for his younger brother to read. 

Can you stop by the coffee shop? I wanna tell you something. In person.

“Ominous,” Tommy pointed out. “Maybe she’s gonna make the first move.” 

“Y’think so?” Joel asked, sending a quick response that he’ll be there in an hour. “She’s just–”

“Different?” Tommy asked. “I ain’t ever seen you like this, Joel. She must be pretty special.”

“She is,” he sighed. “But I mean it… If the only way I can have her is by being her friend, I’m okay with that.” 

Tommy chuckled, shaking his head. “Sure, let’s see if you feel that way when she tells you she wants to start dating and she’s already got a date lined up.” 

Joel shrugged and stood up from the table to set his now-empty mug in the sink. He looked over at Tommy and grabbed his jacket, pulling it on. “Can you pick Sarah up later?” 

“Of course,” Tommy said. “Let me know how it goes?” 

Joel nodded. “Sure. Just hopin’ that whatever she’s got to tell me, it’s good news.” 

“I’m rooting for you, brother. For the both of you.” Tommy stood and clasped Joel’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “And if it means anythin’, I see the way she looks at you. So either you make the first move or she does, but if neither of you do, then y’all are just gonna be goin’ round in circles.” 

“We’ll see,” Joel sighed. 

“And if you really do love her, would you be willing to let her go and be with someone else? Or would you risk it all for somethin’ that may be actually worth it?” 

Joel bit his lower lip; he had a lot to think about. The past couple of weeks, all he could think about was you. It was hard to not mention that one night and continue with your friendship like nothing happened. He had whispered to you that night that he loved you and part of him wished that you were awake to hear it because he didn’t think he had the courage (like he did that night) to repeat it to you. The fear of losing you was too great of a risk. 

“Since when have you been so wise like this?” Joel teased. 

“Always, hermano.” Tommy chuckled. “I’ve always been this wise.” 

“Right,” he smiled. “I suppose only when you want to be.”

“Exactly.” 

—

An hour later, Joel walked into your coffee shop and noticed you working from behind the counter, helping your employees make drinks. He felt his heart swell at the sight of you; you were smiling, conversing with your employees and customers, and when he heard your laugh, Joel felt like he had fallen in love with you all over again. 

When your eyes met his, Joel winked in your direction and he could have sworn he saw that same biting of your lower lip as you dropped your eyes. He was sure that he could see a blush appear along your cheeks. When you finished a drink, he saw you come from around the counter and walk towards him. Joel met you halfway and was taken by surprise when you pulled him into a hug.

“Oh, hi there,” Joel chuckled. “Everythin’ ok?” 

You nodded, taking his hand and leading him to a table in the corner. “Yes, everything’s great. I just– I have good news.” 

“Oh?” Joel arched a brow, now noticing the excitement in your eyes and features. It was infectious and Joel couldn’t help but smile. “Well, what is it?” 

“Okay, um,” you bit your lower lip and looked deep into his eyes. “I think I’m ready to start dating again…”

Joel cleared his throat. “Are you sure?” He shook his head. “What I mean is that do you feel ready to start dating? I just wanna make sure you’re okay and–”

“I got asked out on a date last night when I was helping my team close up,” you interrupted. 

“You did?” Joel felt a tightness in his chest at the news; while it may have been good news for you, it wasn’t good news for him. He hated to admit that Tommy was right and he wasn’t sure if this moment was ever going to come, but now that he was here, Joel didn’t know how to react. He was at a loss for words. 

“I did,” you smiled. “He seems nice. He’s been in here a few times. His name’s Sam. He’s a professor at the local community college, teaches English, and he’s taking me out tonight.” 

“Seems pretty fast,” Joel mumbled. He didn’t know how he could even compete with this man; Joel never went to college and he was still trying to build his own business, but this… This Sam seemed like he had his entire life figured out. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I just mean that he asked you out last night and now you’re going out with him tonight? I don’t know,” Joel shrugged. “Seems pretty weird to me.”

“Weird?” you furrowed your brows together and sighed. “He seems really nice, Joel.”

“Oh, I’m sure he is. Have you seen how you look, darlin’? Anyone would be nice to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Joel sighed. “I just mean that you’re a beautiful woman and that if someone is interested in you, they’re not gonna treat you like shit.”

“Robert did.”

“Robert’s an asshole.”

“I thought you’d be happy for me,” you sighed. “Are you not happy for me?” 

Joel tightened his jaw. Truthfully, he wasn’t. He didn’t want you to be with anyone else but him. “I am,” he sighed. “I just want you to be sure that this is what you want, that you’re actually ready.” 

“I think I am.”

“But how do you know for sure?” 

“Joel,” you sighed. “Do you not want me to go out with him?” 

“You’re a grown woman who can make her own decisions. I’m just lookin’ out for you.” 

“And I appreciate that,” you said, reaching out to rest your hand on his forearm.

Joel cleared his throat and pulled his arm away from you, causing you to look up at him with confusion in your eyes. He could also see the slight hurt in your features and saw you immediately moved your hands back to your lap. 

“I’m just gonna go,” Joel sighed. “I hope you have fun on your date.”

“Wait, Joel, what’s wrong? Did I do something?” 

“No,” he shook his head. “Just don’t want you getting hurt. You don’t really have a good track record with men–”

“Seriously?” 

Joel immediately regretted what he said the moment it left his lips. He ran a hand over his face and looked around, noticing that your coffee shop was becoming increasingly busier. “Can we just talk upstairs in your apartment?” 

“Why? So you can lecture me even more? Do you really think that Robert cheating on me was my fault?” 

“No,” Joel shook his head. “Not at all. M’sorry for what I said, but–”

“But?” you sighed and stood up from your chair, biting your lower lip as you looked at him with tears filling your eyes. “I thought sharing with you that I was ready to date would be a good thing… It means that I’m ready to get out there, that Robert no longer has control over my life… And I wanted to tell you because you’re my best friend, but instead you–”

“Darlin’,” Joel interrupted, standing up and gently taking your hand. “Please, can we just talk somewhere quieter?” 

“No. I think I just need some space right now from you.” You pulled your hand away from his and sighed quietly. “You’re right. I think you should go, Joel.”

“Darlin’,” he repeated. 

“Have a good day, cowboy.” 

Joel watched you turn on your heel, noticing that you were walking towards the door that led to your apartment. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to fix this, how to make you not mad at him. He hated being on the receiving end of it, to see that the cause of your tears were because of him. He didn’t like it. With a deep breath, he followed you and saw you ascend the stairs before you turned around to look down at him.

“I don’t wanna leave like this,” Joel said, looking up at you as he slowly ascended the stairs. “I don’t like that you’re mad at me. I don’t like that you’re about to cry because of me.” 

“I have needs, you know,” you whispered. “It’s been two years, Joel.” You looked up at him, a subtle blush appearing on your cheeks as you implied that the needs you were referring to had nothing to do with emotional connection. You received that just perfectly fine with Joel. No, you needed more. You needed physical touch, you needed someone to–

“So, you’re ready to date and have sex with someone you just met?” 

“Well, who else am I supposed to have sex with? You?” You bit your lower lip and looked deeply into his eyes. Part of you was screaming for him to just make a move, to tell you that he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. 

Joel cleared his throat. He noticed the way you were looking at him and the way you darted your tongue to lick your lower lip. He wished he had the strength to just say yes, but instead, he just shrugged. “I don’t know, darlin’. I’m just tryin’ to look out for you here.”

“And I’m a grown woman who can make my own decisions,” you repeated. “I’ll be okay.” 

“Will you?” 

“Only one way to find out, right?” 

“I just don’t want to see you hurt,” Joel whispered. 

“I’ll be okay,” you repeated. “You and Sarah have empowered me, have shown me to love myself again, but I’m ready to– to get out there again.” 

“And what happens if you get hurt again? Then what?” 

“If that happens, I’ll figure it out.” 

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Joel said through gritted teeth. “I don’t think you’re ready.” 

“What is your problem, Joel?” 

“My problem is you!” He yelled, taking a deep breath. He didn’t mean that, but if he was being honest, you had been a constant problem for him (though in a good way): how you occupied his mind every second of the day, how well you got along with Sarah, how you made him feel so special and so seen… Joel was jealous and he didn’t know how to express that he wanted you to be his. 

“Wow,” you whispered, tears slowly trickling down your cheeks. “You’re a real asshole.” 

“M’sorry,” Joel sighed. “I’m just frustrated.” 

“You?” you shook your head. “I’m the one who should be frustrated. How dare you even say that I’m your problem! I never asked you to stick by my side, Joel!” 

“And what was I supposed to do? Let you deal with your shit alone? No, I care about you too much to do that.” 

“Oh yeah,” you said sarcastically. “I can definitely see how much you care about me right now.” 

“What if Sam hurts you? What happens when you come to me, crying?”

“It’s just a first date, Joel!” 

“Yeah, but you’re–” Joel sighed. “It’s hard not to love you, darlin’.”

You looked at him directly, seeing the inner turmoil in his deep brown eyes. You didn’t know what he was saying, but you felt your heart skip a beat. You were so deeply in love with Joel but you didn’t know if he ever felt the same way, but now, with the way he was looking at you and the words that just left his lips, it gave you a glimmer of hope that maybe he felt the same way too. 

Going out with Sam was only a way for you to get your mind off Joel, get your mind off that one night that you shared with him two weeks ago. Robert was no longer the issue, it was Joel. You loved him so much that you were afraid to even take that chance to tell him how you felt because you didn’t want to risk your friendship with him. 

That night you fell asleep on him had been the comfiest and safest you had ever felt. Waking up in his arms was a feeling you had never felt before. Before you thought Robert was the one, but Joel made you feel things that you only heard or seen about in books or movies: the way your world stopped whenever you saw him, or the way your heart skipped a beat when he would pull you into a tight embrace, or maybe the feeling of safety whenever you were around him or in his arms… Joel made you feel seen, heard, and like you were always the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. 

You were so deeply in love with him that it hurt. It hurt because you knew that you couldn’t take that risk to be more than friends with him. It hurt because you knew that there was more to lose if you decided to tell him how you felt. It hurt because while you had a date set up with someone you weren’t even remotely interested in, you were sure that you would react the same way Joel was reacting if he told you that he was going out with a woman he met. 

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Joel whispered quietly. 

“I know,” you sighed. “But I’ll be okay.” 

Joel tightened his jaw and shook his head. He took several steps down to give himself some space from you. It hurt; how come you couldn’t see how much he loved you, how much he wanted you to be his? 

How come he couldn’t just say how he felt? 

This was doing more damage to the friendship you both built and Joel didn’t know how to repair it, how to move forward. 

“Joel–”

“Have fun on your date,” he said. 

“Joel,” you repeated. 

Joel gave you one last look before turning on his heel and leaving your stairway to enter back into the coffee shop. Quickly, he stormed out and made his way to his truck, feeling the tightness in his chest grow more and more prominent. He left the parking lot in a loud screech, driving back to his home to drown his sorrows. 

—

You remained standing in your stairwell, watching Joel leave in a rush. You felt tears sting your eyes, threatening to spill over as you turned on your heel to walk back upstairs and into your apartment. 

Why couldn’t he just tell you how he felt? 

Why couldn’t you just tell him how much you loved him? 

Instead, the fear of risking your friendship with him had seemed to put a rift between you just at the mere conversation of you telling him that you were ready to date and that you were going out with someone you just met. Truthfully, you didn’t think he would react this way; sure, you assumed he would tell you to be careful, be safe, but you weren’t expecting him to bring Robert up. 

As you were getting ready for your date, your mind was occupied with thoughts of Joel. Maybe it was selfish of you to accept a date with a stranger when you knew your heart was with someone else, but it wasn’t until today on your staircase that you finally caught a glimpse of the possibility that Joel might feel the same way. 

It was just supposed to be a casual dinner, which was your request. Sam was supposed to pick you up in less than an hour and you were dressed in black jeans that reached your ankles with a simple white, fitted tank top and an olive green cardigan over it. Slipping on your sandals, you moved a hand to run through your loose curls. You kept checking your phone, not to see if Sam texted you, but to see if you had any missed messages or calls from Joel. Each time you were met with zero notifications, a sense of disappointment flooded you. 

You tried calling him, tried to leave him messages, but each one was unanswered. 

And even now, when your phone rang and you saw Sam’s name on the screen, you felt a sense of dread. You didn’t want him. You wanted Joel. 

Yet, you still answered Sam’s call, still told him that you’d be out in a second, and you still went out on the date with him. You were craving tacos and there was an event going on with several food trucks downtown that he brought you to. 

Sam was tall, a bit leaner, and just a few years older than Joel. He already had some streaks of gray at his temples (which he liked to joke and blame it on the stressful environment of being a professor). He made you laugh throughout the night, made you smile, but you couldn’t help but compare him to Joel in the back of your mind. 

Throughout the night, he would graze his hand with yours as you both walked side by side. Each time you felt his hand though, all you could think about was Joel and how being in his arms was the one place you wanted to be. 

And so at the end of the night, when Sam dropped you back off at your coffee shop, you gave him a hug and told him that you had a good time. He asked you out on a second date, but you said that while you had fun, there wasn’t a connection like you hoped. You could see the disappointment in his eyes, but Sam simply nodded, gave you a kiss on the cheek and said, “whoever’s got your heart is a lucky man.” 

And when he pulled away, he chuckled at the sight of look of surprise on your features. 

“How did you–”

“You’re a great woman,” he smiled. “It’s hard not to see that.” 

“But you barely know me…”

“I know enough,” Sam said softly. “You seem to be hardworking – you have your own business. You treat everyone you meet with so much kindness and respect, and that’s just from what I’ve seen tonight.” 

“Sam, I’m–”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he interrupted. “I’m just lucky you gave me a chance.” 

“I really did have a great time. The food was amazing.” 

Sam chuckled. “Would it be weird if I still come by to your coffee shop?” 

You smiled. “Not weird at all. Thank you for being so,” you sighed. “Understanding.” 

Sam gave you one last peck on the cheek before he was walking away and back towards his car that he parked across the street. You let out a sigh and walked into your coffee shop, locking the door behind you as you made your way towards the back of the room to enter your stairs up to your apartment. 

As you walked inside, you slipped your sandals off and grabbed your phone and decided to give Joel a call. You bit your lower lip nervously and walked towards your bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes. 

When he didn’t pick up, you contemplated on whether or not to leave a message. There was a few seconds of silence before you hung up the phone. 

There were some things better said in person. 

You just hoped that this didn’t ruin your friendship with Joel. 

But part of you knew that it was going to change your dynamic with him moving forward.

—

prev. - next.

[alittlextrathatway]

I got a prompt request from Sand86802 on twitter. Obviously, she doesn’t have a tumblr so she couldn’t send me an ask. But I’m gonna post it here anyway. Thought I’d go high school AU for this one. I’m sure you’ll get why when you see the prompt lol.

Hope you all enjoy it!

***

Prompt:

“Hopin’ one of those senior boys will wink at you and say, “you know I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Fifteen” by Taylor Swift

+

Location: homeroom

***

Relocating to Chicago was not her choice.

Her dad sold the farm and, with it, their home. Working a family farm just wasn’t turning a profit and they had two kids who would want to go to college eventually. So, her dad got a job at a greenhouse in Chicago where he could still tend to plants, just not vegetables and not at his own expense.

Did she want to leave Fowlerton? No. But does she understand why they had to? Yes. And now that she’s here, she’s determined to make the best of it.

When she arrives at school, the guidance counselor introduces her to her tour guide for the day. Sylvie expected someone from her own class. Maybe an overachieving Junior like herself. But instead she meets Gabby Dawson, a drop dead gorgeous senior who seems cooler and more enigmatic than Sylvie could ever dream of being.

Gabby walks her to her homeroom and points across the hall once Sylvie stands just over the threshold. “I’m over there,” she says. “Most seniors are in home rooms across the hall actually. If you need me after the bell rings just wait for me by the door. Okay?”

“Yes!” She says, sounding far too eager. But, goodness, she’d love to be friends with Gabby. She’s a city girl that seems prepared for everything — cool, calm, collected. Sylvie is none of those things. Gabby grins, failing to hide her amusement, as Sylvie tries to tone herself down. “I mean…cool. Thanks.”

“Hey, Dawson, you got a sec?”

Both girls turn to face a dark blonde, blue eyed boy in jeans and a plaid button down the same shade as his eyes. Sylvie feels her throat go dry as she swallows thickly. He’s the cutest boy she’s ever seen.

“Yeah, I’m just making sure Sylvie knows how to get around.”

Matt’s eyes shift over to her, as if he just noticed her presence. She doesn’t expect much of a reaction. Not when someone like Gabby is standing next to her. But his eyes flash with interest and the corner of his mouth quirks, creating a barely there crooked smile. “I’m assuming you’re Sylvie.”

“Oh! Yes! Hi!” She replies, sticking out her hand for a shake. “Sylvie Brett. I’m new.”

“You don’t say?” He asks, his crooked smile threatens to bloom further. She hopes it doesn’t because she’s not sure she would survive one his full smiles. “I figured since I haven’t seen you around before.” He accepts her handshake as he introduces himself. “Matt Casey.”

Matt Casey. That’s a good strong name. She has a feeling it’s going to be decorating the inside of her notebooks pretty soon. (Should she buy new gel pens to represent her new crush?) Matt is adorable.

“Sylvie’s family just moved here from Indiana,” Gabby tells him, eyebrows raising with some sort of secret meaning. “She grew up on a farm.”

“Huh. That’s new. Must be a bit of a weird adjustment moving to the city.” It’s a declarative statement but his solemn face and attentive eyes make it feel like a question.

“It’s definitely different,” she admits. “Especially because right now my family’s crammed into a two bedroom apartment while we try to find a more permanent place. It’s been…chaotic.”

“I’m sure,” he says, holding her stare and nodding as if he’s giving every word she says equal weight and consideration.

He looks as though he has more he wants to say, more questions for her to answer, but Gabby interrupts.

“The bell’s about to ring. We should get to our homeroom. Plus, we’re kinda blocking Mr. McHolland’s doorway. And didn’t you need to ask me something?”

“Oh, yeah, I just needed to borrow some notes,” he says, waving his hand as if to physically brush the issue away. He focuses his attention on Sylvie again. “You’re joining us for lunch later, right?”

“Me?” She asks meekly.

“Sure, I mean you don’t know anyone else right now. We’re not gonna let you eat alone. Right, Dawson?” Matt asks her, eyes narrowing pointedly.

“I mean, sure, yeah, ordinarily,” Gabby agrees. “But today is Portillo’s day and I’m not sure there’s enough room in Severide’s car.”

Matt’s expression pinches in confusion, visually rejecting Gabby’s concerns as if they’re ridiculous. “Then I’ll drive her. I don’t like cramming in his mustang anyway. I mean, if that’s okay with Sylvie?” He asks, lifting one eyebrow at her in question.

“Are you kidding?” She asks earnestly. “Lunch out with you two or walking through the cafeteria trying to navigate lunchroom cliques? This is a no brainer.” She’s probably coming on too strong. Gabby’s cringing faintly, clearly she thinks so. But Sylvie can’t bring herself to care. She was terrified of her first day and Matt is already making it easier. “I’d love to.”

“Cool,” Matt replies, showing her that full smile she feared earlier. She was right. She’s not going to survive it. He’s handsome without it but with the smile he glows. She can’t take her eyes off of him. “I should, um, get to my homeroom.” He points over his shoulder and takes a couple of steps backward. “But I’ll meet you right back here for lunch?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be here, don't worry,” she assures him.

He nods and claps once, awkwardly bobbing his head. “Great, perfect. Can’t wait.”

He takes one more backward step and bumps into a group of kids, nearly knocking one boy down. Sylvie giggles softly as he apologizes through a wince. He waves at her one last time, completely forgetting to say goodbye to Gabby. Sylvie waves back, biting her bottom lip.

Not even here a full day and she already sort of has a date.

Maybe Chicago won’t be so bad, afterall.

[hours2hours]

THE HAWKINS PARADOX: CHAPTER THREE

The sheet draping Toby’s corpse is the only barrier preventing a total meltdown in front of my friends. Ever since I first saw him in that cardboard box I haven’t had it in me to look at him, despite how much I’d give to see his face one last time.  

Playing on the floor when I was just eleven years old, running through the streets at night, play-fighting in the park, and the very first day we got him as just a puppy. Of all the half-forgotten memories from my youth, that one has always remained crystal clear. He was sitting in my lap sleeping on the drive home, and I thought that a more perfect creature couldn’t exist. He was so tiny but had all the fight in the world in him. He was my only friend and partner in crime for years, he brought me comfort every lonely day and night, and now he’s just a corpse in a hole. I placed him down gently after Annie was finished digging, and even now, putting the dirt on him doesn’t feel right. He’s gone, yet burying him feels like I’m hurting him, like he’s just going to wake up with a mouthful of earth and worms. 

I pat the earth on his final resting place and Ruby puts an arm on my shoulder. Though she was never as close to our dog as I was, I can still feel the sadness in her touch. When I look back to see the friends who showed in my time of need, I’m reminded of the real issues here. Miles was supposed to be here, right now he’s off alone and we’re all here worrying about a dog. The thought of forgetting Toby hurts so bad, but he’s gone, and Miles needs me. What’s dead is dead and should stay that way, even when it hurts like hell. 

I walk away from the grave and sit in the lawn chair next to my campfire.

“Are you positive a human did it? Animal attacks in this area have gone up significantly recently.” Otto calmly chimes in.

“Only if a coyote can wield a knife,” I respond. Ruby sits next to me as I poke the fire. Our yard is a wreck, littered with remnants of a forgotten past. The fire pit is a ring of rocks inside the sand pit Ruby and I played in as kids, while old toys lay wethered and grey by years of rain and snow.

“I still think you should call the police,” Ruby says.

Annie scoffs, “Yeah, like that’ll help.”

“I don’t need the police,” I reply. “I’m gonna take care of it.”

“But that’s so stupid,” Ruby responds.

“What good would they do me anyway? Smalltown cops aren’t goddamn detectives Rube. They’ve probably got their hands full shootin’ innocent people.”

Annie cackles and raises a beer.

Ruby continues, “I know you got a criminal record, but you still need help.”

“Aren’t you behind on a hundred commissions? Mind your business.”

Ruby stands, “You better not do anything stupid, I won’t be the only surviving twin.”

“You know me. Mentally sound decisions only.”

“Strict rules in the Hawkins household,” Annie adds. “See ya later Ruby! And don’t worry, I’ll babysit your brother.” Ruby stands to leave, while Annie waves goodbye until she’s out of sight. The door shuts, and Annie leans over in her lawn chair. “Okay, down to business. Did you come up with any other leads?”

“Only Wendy, she’s the one who’d want my head the most.”

Before Otto can question the topic at hand, Miles enters the yard with his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You weren’t interruptin’. Sit yourself down,” I reply.

“Sorry I’m late. Could barely convince Dad to let me leave.” Miles sits in the lawn chair next to my own. He moves close enough for our legs to touch slightly, sending a swarm of butterflies into my gut. “I thought he spent so long trying to get you out of the house,” I reply.

Annie lights a smoke and flicks one toward Miles. “You missed the depressing shit anyways.” Otto eyes the cigarette between Annie’s fingers, then Miles. “Are you doing okay?” Otto asks.

“Not really. I’d rather not talk about it, honestly. What were you saying about leads?”

“Right,” I eager to change the subject. “Wendy Anson. There’s a zealot or two in this town who’d wanna mess with me, but Wendy is the only one who’d go that far.

Miles shifts closer to me, and a smile tugs my lips. “You said you got her arrested, what happened?”

“Funny story actually,” I laugh nervously, patting the back of my head. “She used to sell me drugs, but I found out she was lacing her product for new customers.”

“Lacing?”

“Ya know, crack or whatever. It ain’t uncommon for dealers to try and get kids hooked on more expensive shit. She got a couple ninth graders hooked, one kid ODed an’ wound up in the hospital.”

“I remember that, the school held an assembly regarding drug use the next day,” Otto adds. Sometimes I forget just how little he really knows about his only two friends.

Pulling on the collar of my shirt I finish, “...so Annie an’ I busted into her house, stole her good supply, then ratted her out to the cops.”

Annie can barely contain the bellowing laughter. “Bitch got what was coming to her.” She crumples a can and cracks open another.

“Yeah, well, she got out of juvie a few months ago. If she figured out I was the one who snitched, I can see why she’d wanna fuck shit up for me. That’s not even mentioning that Aaron’s pickup spot was right next to the diner she works at.”

“Tha’s the only thing though. It seems like a really stupid obvious spot,” Annie says.

“What if she’s baiting you?” Miles adds.

“She could be, but the footage is our only lead, we need to go for it ASAP. If there’s even a chance I can find Toby’s killer I’m goin’ for it.”

“Footage?” Otto suddenly asks. Annie shoots me a wide eyed, ‘get me out of this’ look. But there’s no way I can explain last night without mentioning we kidnapped and tortured his brother.

“So uh, did you start studying for our history exam?” She laughs, switching the subject smooth as broken glass. Otto raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. “We’ll go over the flipbook tonight.”

“That’s why you’re the best,” Annie nudges him in the shoulder.

Miles stares into his phone, face scrunched into a frown. From the way he constantly wraps strands of grass through his fingers, to the melodic tap of his foot, Miles’s stress is worse than I’ve seen. I wish there was something I could do to help him, but now I feel so useless. “Looks like I should be going,” he mumbles.

“Already?” Annie asks.

“Dad says the police came back, they want to ask me more questions.”

As if things had to get worse. “Here, I’ll walk you home,” I stand.

“Dad’s already here. Guess I’ll see you later.” Miles slowly walks to the front of the house, lingering at the gate.

“I hope Miles is okay,” Otto states. A car door opens, then closes, and he’s gone.

Annie cracks open another drink, “Well if I were him I’d be freaking the hell out. Did you guys hear all that crap around school today? People think he killed his own brother.”

“There isn’t enough evidence to be certain one way or another,” Otto adds.

“It’s horseshit,” I burst. “Mobbing idiots. Acting like they know everything about someone they've never met.” 

Annie and Otto look at me wide-eyed, Annie’s eyebrow more knowing than I like.

“Can I use your bathroom?” Otto asks suddenly.

“You’ve been coming here for two years now.”

Otto squeezes Annie’d hand before inside my house. I know my outbursts make him uncomfortable, but this time I don’t care. I can’t stand mob mentality, I can’t stand people hurting someone who’s world is crashing left and right as we speak. I’m loudly tapping my foot on the rocks while Annie lights another cigarette with a huge grin on her face.

“What?” I ask more defensively than I mean to.

“Nothing,” she smiles.

“I’m worried about Miles 'cause he’s my friend.”

“Right, and like a mentally sound person, you responded accordingly.”

“God, shut up. Stop assuming I want every guy I meet now.”

“I’m just saying. You’re pretty quick to jump to the defense of someone you’ve barely known a year. What if he did kill Mateo? What if Miles is torturing him in his basement as we speak?”

“Just stop, okay? He’s not even…” I stop myself, struggling to force the word out of my mouth.

“You can say the G word. I know a lot of people in this town will wanna crucify you for it but it’s just us.”

“I’m just worried.”

[idklolheheheheheh]

LEA

Lea POV

I look across the room and see a cute girl waiting by the chocolate fountain. I’m at a party and I am bored because there is no one here that I know. I came with my friend, but she abandoned me for a cute boy. But damn, I was more interested in this girl now. She gave off this vibe that said “Come over here”. I was definitely going to listen, because I had nothing better to do. “Hey, girl,” I said, slowly strutting over to her. She smirks at me. “Oh, aren’t you Hueningkai’s big sis?” she wonders. 

I smirk back. “Um, yeah. I’m Lea. Do you wanna maybe get out of here, go outside?” I ask. 

Y/N POV

What the hell, this girl Lea, who was Hueningkai’s brother, was talking to my pathetic ass. I wasn’t gonna say no, though. I had come to the party with my boyfriend, but he had disappeared on me anyway. We sat outside, sipping our drinks casually, watching people inside dance or make out through the window. “Um, so what brings you here?” she wonders casually. “My boyfriend’s best friend is hosting it,” I murmur. I glance over to see her whole face cringe, but she quickly hides it. “Oh, um, I’m single,” she mutters. I laugh. “Really? An attractive woman like you?” 

Lea POV

“I’m attractive?” I ask her, wanting to hear it again from her lips. She’s very intriguing and beautiful. “Oh yeah. Not that I’m lesbian or anything. Also I have a man,” she says too quickly. I laugh at her response. “Okay. Well, you’re hot”, I say confidently. She shivers. “Oh…” she says breathily. That does it. I lean over and peck her lips. “Oh fuck, was that okay?” I ask. She grins. “I have a man, and I’m not gay, but fuck that was hot,” she admits. 

I grin. “Well, here’s more then,” I whisper in her ear, grabbing her shoulders and throwing myself on her lap. I bite down on her bottom lip, and grind my pussy slowly against her. These stupid jeans need to come off. I don’t even care that we’re outside. “W-what if my boyfriend comes out here and sees?” she worries. I laugh. “That’s his problem,” I reply, grinding harder. I lick her bare shoulder and rub her clothed clit with my fingers, eliciting a moan that’s sending me over the edge. Neither of us have experience with other women, but now I don’t want to go back to men. 

Y/N POV

This woman, what the fuck. I didn’t know I could feel this good. My boyfriend never pleases me like this, he only fucks me to please himself. So, this woman is making me come undone. I might break up with my man after this, because how can I go back to men now? Let him come out here and see, I don’t care anymore. He doesn’t treat me the best anyway. Lea bites my lips hungrily and I moan in response. 

“Lea~” I whine. “Mmm”, she hums against my lips, rubbing her pussy against mine. “We need to fuck. Take your clothes off,” I moan. She does, easily unsnapping her bra and whipping it off after her shirt. She lets me undo her jeans and panties, causing me to moan at how soft and tasty she looks. She then helps me with my own clothes, and we’re bare, in public, in someone’s backyard, about to fuck. Specifically my boyfriend’s best friend’s backyard. The fuck am I doing? Eh, who cares. I need Lea Huening to fuck me and that’s all that matters. 

Lea POV

I grin at her, slowly moving my eyes down her body, visually fucking her. She shivers. “Lea…” she murmurs. I grab her delectable titties and squeeze them softly, circling her nipples with my fingers. She throws her head back and whines. “Oh my fucking god, yesssss mommy!” she yelps. I smirk. She’s just encouraging me to go further. I hope she knows what she is signing up for. I can’t handle being called mommy. It makes me go feral. I keep squeezing her left boob, and move my mouth onto the nipple on her right. She tastes so soft and good. I suck harder until she is screaming with delight. I swipe my tongue all over that thing.

 I’m surprised no one has come out here yet. She pushes me off suddenly. “It’s my turn to make you feel good,” she says. I shiver. “Okay, Mommy,” I reply. She puts her fingers in my mouth and then squeezes my nipples. She bends down to taste them, and then swipes her fingers up my pussy without warning. “Uhhhhh~” I moan or something. I don’t know how to make noise, it just feels so good. “Fingering leaves you speechless?” she murmurs. “Mmm.” I squirm around so she can hit my sweet spot. “You’re so needy,” she says. I am. But so is she. 

Y/N POV

Lea’s cunt feels amazing on my fingers. It’s making my own pussy wet with desire and need. Lea notices this and bends down. “Can I taste you?” she asks. I nod, shaking with need. “Please, Lea. Eat me out. My boyfriend sucks at it.” She puts her lips near my pussy, sliding her tongue up my thighs to tease me. My moans and sighs push her over the edge until she is licking my clit and my folds, using her fingers to tease it open. “You taste like heaven. There are no other words for how good you taste,” she moans.  I am living for her reactions. “Ohhhhhhhhhh~~~~~~” she whimpers. She keeps going until I cum in her mouth. That tongue keeps swirling, making my pussy tingle with desire. I have to grab the sheets for balance, and I drool a little. 

Lea POV

This woman tastes so salty and delicious. She certainly tastes better than any man I’ve given head to. But I also want her to taste me, so I stop eating her out and make out with her instead. “Taste your own cum,” I murmur. She does, our tongues intertwining, and then looks at my pussy. “Wanna taste yours, too,” she moans. I lay back, arching my vagina up towards her face. It’s at this moment that someone comes outside. “Oh my god,” she yelps before her lips make contact with my aching, throbbing, needy pussy. 

I look up, annoyed, at whoever interrupted my turn at pleasure. “Nathan,” she says. “The fuck is this? Your man is right inside and you’re fucking Hueningkai’s sister? Seriously?” “Yeah, Nathan. I’m sorry, I know he’s your best friend and this is your house, but hey, we got horny, okay. Besides, I need to break up with him anyway, we are better as friends,” she explains quickly. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Can’t say I understand, but at least go get a room. Or go in your car. I don’t want him to see this,” he groans. “Yea, Y/N,” I say. “We can go in my car.” 

She nods, and Nathan heads back inside, shaking his head. We run to my car and fall into the backseat, me on the bottom so she can eat me out. We’re such switches. She slides her tongue around my thighs, making me shake and whimper with desire and pleasure. “MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!” I yelp.  Her tongue then dives into my folds, going up and down my clit and sending me to heaven. This lady can use her tongue for fucking sure. She manages to reach up and play with my boobs while doing so, and I grab onto her hair and scream with joy. 

Y/N POV

Apparently I know how to pleasure a woman really well, judging by Lea’s reactions. I smirk and keep tasting her until she keens and cums all over my mouth. I grin and lap every drop up, and then swallow. Damn. She tastes like joy. I don’t know, just better than my man ever tasted.

“Do you wanna try scissoring?” she asks shyly, blushing and hiding her face. I nod. “Yes, Lea. Let’s do it.” We then get into position, her on top this time. Our pussies are so hairy and it feels so rough and hot as we thrust and scissor and move in rhythm with each other. Our skin is slapping and our wetness is mixing as our cunts slide and grind against each other. Who knew that two pussies together could feel so exciting, so hot, so new? My stomach explodes with pleasure and soon we’re both cumming everywhere. I lie in her arms, cuddling after the passion ends. She smiles and together we get up, staring into each other’s eyes. “That was hot. Let’s do that again some time,” I say. She smirks. “Hell yea!” 

[erodasfishtacos]

I fucking love mlb!harry and ceo!harry

Ur so talented

Erm i had an idea (pls feel free to ignore, i know u hv a busy schedule and life outside of tumblr) but what if mlb!harry played badly in a game (or less than how he expected he wld perform) and y/n makes him feel better

Or

Ceo!harry loses an important deal and y/n makes him feel better

CRAMP

i write for FREE - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here. ($15+ is guaranteed blurb written for you).

if you liked - pleasure support me by reblogging, recommending, liking, commenting, and come talk to me about the fic!

warnings: smut; 18 +

YN knew it wasn’t going to be a fun time when Harry came home that night.

All four babies were fast asleep in their respective rooms and she was lounging on the couch, some cooking show on after she watched her husband play a rough game on ESPN.

He got hit with a fastball to his calf during the second inning and after that, his performance went downhill and he couldn’t get back on track.

He threw three homeruns and only made a few mediocre hits, trying to ignore the shooting pain in his lower leg.

In a typical Harry move, he refused to do the end of game handshakes with the opposing team and stormed off the field.

An interviewer chasing after him to ask him a question and Harry give her a dirty look before muttering, “Get away from me. I’m not answerin’ any questions,” before he disappears down the stairs.

YN knew just the thing that will cheer him up.

-

Harry trecks into the house with heavy feet and tense shoulders, his eyes are tired and frustrated as he drops his duffle on the ground carelessly.

“Hi,” YN murmurs when he steps into the living room, she was all curled up in a fluffy blanket with a surprise underneath.

“Hi,” He says back blandly, the frown unmoving from his face - almost like a pouty little kid.

“Can you come rub m’back?” She asks, feeling herself dampen a little bit with the excitement of what’s to come.

Harry scoffs, obviously in a sour mood, “I just finished a game, walked in the door, and tha’s the first thing I get is a demand?”

“Okay? And I just dealt with all four of your babies all day today. Ezra refused to be put down for more than five minutes straight,” She tries to bite down the smile, she shouldn’t find it funny when her husband’s bent out of shape.

That makes him melt a bit though, voice soften minutely, “Were the babies good today?”

“I’ll tell you about it after you rub my back.”

Harry grumbles, kicking off his trainers with a irritated edge, and heavy-footed as he makes his way to the couch.

“Take off the blanket and move on y’belly then,” He mutters, eyes boring into hers without reflecting the amusement that she has - if he was in a better mood he would have helped her along.

When she slips off the blanket and quickly moves on her stomach, burying her face in her arms when she hears him sucks in a breath.

“Wha’ are y’naked?” Harry demands, obviously trying to stay irritated because he deserved it for having such a shitty game.

YN makes sure her voice sounds airy and coy, “Just got hot is all.”

“S’fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” He rebukes but sits on the side of the couch with only a little room on the edge - his large hand coming to massage at her back muscles.

“Mmm,” She agrees noncommittally, feeling Harry’s hand wander curiously, further down her back to the lower curve before her bum.

“Y’trying to cheer m’up with sex,” Harry accuses, bent out of shape because he just wants to sulk in his poor performance but also he has the most beautiful woman in the world in front of him - bare and wet for him.

“I didn’t offer sex,” YN smirks, her husband falls into her to tricks every fucking time, no matter how much of bad mood he’s in.

Harry’s voice gets lower, more dangerous and gravely, “No? Just flashin’ y’ass at me for fun now? Decided for absolutely no reason to be waiting for m’to come home naked?”

“No reason at all,” She agrees, excitement building when his gentle massage turns rougher, hands kneading a little deeper into her muscles.

He shakes his head, eyes glued onto her backside where her cheeks are round and hiding what he really wants to see, “So if I dip m’fingers down between y’pretty thighs, your cunt won’t be soaking f’me?”

Harry’s skin prickles when his wife lets out a feathery, delicate moan at his words, he’s desperately trying to hold onto all of his negative feelings but he’s struggling because of the beauty that’s squirmy underneath him.

“Dry as the Sahara.”

It makes Harry finally break a little, letting out a belly laugh, and smacking her bum hard enough to make her squeak in delight.

His fingers travel down between her puffy folds, slipping into the heavenly heat of her where she is soaking his fingers.

In a filthy move, he pulls them back up and rubs them on his wife’s lips, “If y’not wet than what’s on y’lips, darlin’?”

Harry’s cock twitches when she lets out a quiet whine, pink tongue tracing her bottom lip before she laps at her husband’s thick fingers.

“Fuck,” He grunts, pressing down on her tongue,“Y’gonna let m’hit it from behind?”

When she can speak, she shakes her head, “No, want it on m’back.”

“Spoiled thing,” He murmurs, giving her one more smack before helping her flip back over, “Supposed t’be all about me, not you.”

YN’s eyes are sparkling, hand coming to tug lightly at his locks and pull him down into a kiss, her other hand wriggling his shorts down.

“All I had to do was take m’clothes off, didn’t even have to ask for it,” She giggles sweetly, teasingly, “Doesn’t matter what mood you’re in, always want to give it to me.”

“Best I’ve ever had, mama,” Harry replies against her lips, mumbled a bit as she grips him and leads him right to where she needs him most.

“Only one you ever had, only one you ever will have,” YN remarks confidently before throwing her head back when he bottoms out.

“Y’so fuckin’ hot when you’re possessive. You already know y’own me, darling. I bought you this big ole’ house, got four of m’babies sleepin’ upstairs, and got y’under me every night. I’m fucking yours. I have been since we met.”

“Harder, H,” She demands, nails digging into his strong shoulders as he fucks into her at a steady pace.

“Be quiet, let m’do it how I want,” He chides, keeping a slow but hard rhythm as he ducks down the suck at the hard peaks of her breasts before grazing them with his teeth.

“Do it how I want,” YN moans with an arrogant tone, it just drops with how confident she is that her husband is whipped for her. (He is).

But he’s already in a less than great mood so it has him flipping her, putting her onto all four as he wants, and slamming back in.

“We’re gonna do it ‘ow I want it,” He grunts in her ear, his hand gripping her cheek roughly enough to dimple and his other wrapping in her messy hair, “Y’absolutely soakin’ me, pet.”

“Oooh, fuck!” YN hisses but it doesn’t sound like a normal moan from her - Harry knows every sound his wife is able to make.

“Mama? Y’alright?” Harry checks, slowing down but not completely losing momentum as he loosens his grip on her hair.

“Cramp, I’m cramping. Want it on m’back,” YN whines, trying to shake out her leg and Harry obliges, helping her back down to their original position.

Again, Harry isn’t stupid.

As soon as she is back where she’s moaning lowly and with an airy hitch as she goes to pinch at one of her nipples.

“Y’such a spoiled brat,” Harry shakes his head in disbelief, “Y’didnt have a leg cramp, y’just wanted to be a pillow princess.”

“Lies,” YN giggles, eyes bright and happy as she peers up at her husband who is looking down a her like she hung the fucking moon and stars.

No one would ever be able to convince him that she didn’t.

“M’the one who had the shit day. I’ve just spoiled you so fuckin’ rotten tha’ y’just a desperate slut,” He laughs meanly but it sends a full body zip of electricity through his wife and he knows it.

“Harry,” She chokes out, gripping his biceps hard.

“Hands to yourself,” He snaps, taking her hands and pinning them above her head with just one of his hands.

The other comes down and lands a smack right on her puffy folds, once..twice…three times before YN is coming on him.

“Easy f’me,” Harry hums with satisfaction, leaning down to kiss her moans quiet as he fucks in hard a handful on times before he’s filling her up, “There y’go, hm? Marking y’up as mine, all full of me.”

“Yeah, baby,” YN agrees dazed, dated as he comes to a halt as he softens and pulls out - wiping her down with his shirt as she whines, “Sensitive.”

“M’sorry, mama,” Her husband apologizes, trying to be careful around her nerves.

After, they lay on the couch - talking about their day until Briar’s monitor lights up from the side table with high pitched cries.

“Mama, mama, daddy,” The thirteen month old sobs as she sits up in her crib - unable to find her binky in the dark.

“I’ll go get the bub,” Harry offers, sitting up and tugging his briefs and shorts back on.

“Okay, she missed you a lot today. I’m going to go shower.”

-

When Harry steps into the room, Briar is looking expectantly at the door and her eyes widen when she spots her father.

“Daddy, dadada,” She babbles happily, standing up to clutch the railing of her crib with anticipation.

“Oh, there’s m’lil mama. Hi darling,” Harry coos softly, gathering her up into his arms and taking a step over to the rocking chair.

He pops her pacifier back between her lips and she looks up at him with heavy-lids, it doesn’t take long before her blinks get longer until her eyes shut close.

Harry doesn’t know what he did to deserve such an amazing life but he was sure fucking grateful.

[remuslupingf]

Warm Sweaters Part II

Remus Lupin x Reader

Fluff/Comfort

Word Count: 1.8k

Part I

You had been nervous all week, but finally Friday had arrived. Sitting with your friends at breakfast, not touching the food Lily had loaded onto your plate, a letter arrived for you. 

I will be there at 9 am. Wait for me at the front doors and do not be late.

“It's gonna be just fine Y/N, We're going to be here all day.” Sirius said with a mouth full of food.

“Yeah, about that Sirius, my dad doesn't like your family. I'm really sorry but maybe you should just stay hidden around me today. It's for the best.” You mumble while staring at your shaking hands. You tried not to look at Remus. He was trying to catch your attention but you didn't want him to see how scared you really were. 

“Well I better go wait for him, he's gonna show up any minute.” You tell the group, with a shy smile and walk away.

Watching you walk to the front doors outside the Great Hall, Remus mumbled to the group, “I don't know guys, this time he seems really serious”.

“No, I’m Siriu-”, Sirius got cut off by James hitting the back of his head.

“Shut up Pads, this is Serious. And don't say it again.” James said. Sirius looked away, smiling to himself.

“Don't worry about her, Remus. She'll do just fine. Her fathers worried about her, that's all.” Lily consoled him.

“But, don't you think he's a bit extreme?” Remus asked the group.

“He does kind of remind me of my mother”, Sirius said, looking embarrassed for admitting something like that to his friends. Him and Y/N were in the same boat and he knew that their friends wouldn’t understand.

“Maybe at break I can sneak her away from her dad for a bit and talk to her!”, Sirius said excitedly. “I mean, I am the only one who gets it, y’know?”

Remus tried not to show his anger. He wanted to comfort her, not Sirius. Who knows, Sirius had not been seeing anyone lately. Maybe he was going to try to make a move.

“Yeah. Great idea Pads.” Remus replied flatly. The rest of breakfast was spent quietly. 

Meanwhile, You were sweating bullets waiting for your father by the entrance. Suddenly the huge oak doors open and your father walks in. He looks very serious and determined today. 

“Daughter. I do wish you will take me seriously this time. I will send you somewhere else if I have to. Now, be a good heir and be quiet, and do as you're told. Think you can manage?” Your father says sternly.

“Yes father”, You reply, not meeting his gaze.

“Good. Come along now.” He starts walking in the direction of the dungeons. Great. Time to embarrass yourself in front of your father and Professor Slughorn. You follow your father down into the castle, until you feel the coldness radiating off the walls. 

“I expect you to answer what is asked of you, and to do well on your test, Okay? You can do it my girl I know you can”, Your father smiled wickedly at you. You knew he was taunting you, speaking to you how he would your sister. Your perfect sister. It's not her fault she's favoured, it's your fault you're the unlucky one. Being the oldest is hard because you have to be the role model. If you're bad at that you're kind of screwed. 

You walk into the classroom and sit in your regular seat. You shoot Sirius an obvious look to remind him he has to sit somewhere else today. He catches on quickly and pushes Remus’ shoulders down so he's forced to sit beside you. Not that he minds. 

Your father was standing at the back of the classroom, standing tall and looking important. Your teachers had been informed of your fathers presence for today and were told to proceed as normal. You shoot Remus a small smile and turn to face the front of the room. You don't see him stare at you with a dopey look on his face.

“Alright class, who's ready for our test?” Professor Slughorn asked when he entered the room. He heard groans of protest in response. “Aw come now class, you all know the material as well as I do. Nothing to worry about. Now, get out your quills, and I will hand out the test so we can begin.” The professor stated while smiling at his student. 

“No need Slughorn, Y/N will do it. Won't you Y/N?” Your father said, picking you out of the whole class.

“Yes sir”, You said, standing up and walking to your professor. You hand out the test to the whole class, Sirius shoots you an encouraging thumbs up, before you're back beside Remus. 

“That wasn’t too bad, was it Y/N/N?” Remus asked while writing his name in messy writing at the top of his page.

“Yeah, just wait. It'll get worse.” You reply sullenly.

“Today will be over fast. I promise. And if it's not, we can get shitfaced this weekend. My treat?” Remus asked shyly.

“Deal, Lupin.” You reply while smiling. 

“Okay Class, you may begin. You have an hour.” Slughorn said.

Halfway through your test, you were trying to remember how to brew polyjuice, when your father whispers in your ear, “I don't want you hanging around this boy beside you. I've seen him passing notes to Mr. Black. You are to have no contact with these things anymore.  Just look at this young man's clothes, doesn't his parents care about him enough to send him off with clothes that fit and aren't worn in? You will stay away from him from now on.” He said, then walked back to his place by the back wall.

You started to sweat. What the hell was that all about? Remus is a good kid. He never ever gets in trouble, he's too smart for that.

Beside you, Remus stares self consciously at his clothes. He had heard everything your father said. Perks of having good hearing I guess. He knew they were getting too small but he didn't think anyone else had noticed.

Whatever,

He thought to himself.

I know her better than you ever will, so ha.

“Alright class, times up. If you did not finish, I will allow you another hour after your last class of the day.” Professor Slughorn said. The class seemed happy with that. He wanted to be more lenient because it was a Friday, but especially because the class had an intimidating man sitting in the class today. 

At break, Y/N walked the grounds alone while her father stayed back to speak with Professor Slughorn. She was walking when she heard running behind her. “Y/N wait up!” Sirius yelled at her.

“Sirius what are y-”, She was cut off by Sirius dragging her behind a thick tree. 

“I came to see how you're feeling. Are you okay? Is he being nice? I know he made you hand out the test, that wasn't too bad was it? Also, what did he say to do during the test? I was so worried I kept looking at you and I guess  he saw. I'm so sorry if I got you in trouble.” Sirius rambles to you.

“Don't even worry about it Siri, my dad's still a dick. Like usual. You didn't get me in trouble, He doesn't like moony and asked me to stay away from him and you guys”, you replied glumly. 

“I understand Y/N/N. I'm always here to listen, you know that. My mom is the same way. I'm sorry that you have to deal with that. But hey! Maybe you could come stay with us at James’ house this summer! It would be so much fun. Plus I know moony would be especially happy.” Sirius said, not realizing what he had just said about his best friend.

“Wait- what do you mean Sirius? Why would Remus be especially happy that I would be there?” you asked him curiously.

“Huh, oh no reason. Anyway uh I gotta go bye!” He yelled while running away back to the castle.

You stood there, confused and wondering about what he meant. You stepped out from behind the tree and started making your way back to the castle. On the way, you spot Remus near the black lake. You jog over to him, “Hey moony, what are you doing?” you asked politely.

He looked down at you, “Oh. Hey Y/N/N. Nothing, just trying to see if I can see the giant squid.” He replies.

He doesn't say what he wants to say. Which is, hey what the hell are you doing sneaking behind trees with pads? Instead he just looks at you and smiles warmly.

“Anyways, c'mon we better head back before your dad catches you talking to this thing.” He says, referencing what your father had whispered to you during potions. 

“Oh no. You heard that? I'm so sorry Remus. I don't see you like that at all. I honestly think you're amazing.” You say to him breathlessly. 

Oh. Oh

“Thanks Y/N. We’ll have to throw a party for you tomorrow.” He says while smiling.

You just want to hug him and stay with him all day. Oh well, you can look forward to partying with your friends tomorrow. You both start walking back towards the castle, to see your father waiting for you on the front steps.

“Y/N. I thought I had told you to stay away from this boy. Come here. Now.” Your father says, not taking his eyes off of Remus. Remus walks you over to your father, you reluctantly go to his side. Your father steps to Remus.

“Go. Don't you have something better to do than tormenting my daughter?”

Remus is usually seen slouching. He stood to his full height and squared his shoulders. He stared your father down. He was a few inches shorter than Remus. “I think she can choose who she's friends with, don't you?” Remus challenges your father.

Your father ignores him completely and gripped your arm, hurting you. “Let's go dear, you've been outside long enough for today.” You watch Remus as you are being pulled away. He gives you a smile and a thumbs up. ‘It's okay,' he mouths to you.

Remus walks back into the castle thinking about you. He doubts that was the first time your father had put his hands on you. Remus feels very protective towards you. He knows he likes you but he feels scared about it. I mean, what's going on with you and pads? Does he like her? Does she like him?

Remus plans to confront Sirius about his intentions with you. He also intends to throw you the best party Hogwarts has ever seen. 

[natashxromanovf]

Blinded By Love Hate

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2599

WARNINGS: brief mention of the reader being on Cap’s side but nothing important for the story, a lot of dialogue, mentions of guns, mentions of a gunshot wound

REQUESTED: no, but part of @heloisedaphnebrightmore writing challenge, enemies to lovers

SUMMARY: A mission gone wrong leads to a confession none of you thought would ever be spoken.

A/N: vxhrqcbdsjth my first enemies to lovers, I hope y’all like it! I love this trope yet I never actually wrote it before, but there’s a first for everything, right? also, i'd like to thank @moreidsdaughter for beta-ing this <33

gif credits to @buckypascal

You and Bucky don’t necessarily hate each other; you just strongly dislike one another. It was always like this, ever since the Airport fight, and even though you were on Cap's team, just his mere presence seemed to annoy you. It’s not clear why, but there’s something about him - at least that’s what you tell yourself. Truth be told, you developed a crush on the man; you guessed it’s just easier to pretend you hate him than confess your feelings.

“Are you kidding me?” you say as you sit down, receiving the news mere seconds ago. You don’t know whose idea it was to send Bucky and you together on a mission but they sure aren’t very smart. And the bad news doesn’t end here; the mission is pretending you’re a married couple while gathering important intel, trying to figure out which of the soon-to-be neighbours is leading a dangerous organisation.

“Steve, we’re gonna kill each other before we even get there,” Bucky sighs, trying to persuade Steve to send someone else.

“Yeah, as much as I hate to admit it, I agree with metal arm here,” you confess, pointing to the man standing behind you.

“Look, I wish I could help but it’s already decided, and besides, you two have to learn how to not almost kill one another every time something happens.” he finishes, a desperate look on his face. You just sigh, standing up again and walking out after Bucky but not before Steve could whisper “good luck” into your ear, earning a smile from you. As much as you hate this assignment, maybe something good would come out of it.

~

Arriving at the neighbourhood you search for the given address only to stop in front of a huge house. And by huge you mean huge. Your eyes widen, mouth left agape. Bucky’s expression matches yours, almost wishing you could capture his face in a picture, using it for blackmailing later. A chuckle escapes your lips, waking him up from the trance he was previously in.

“Something funny, Y/L/N?” he asks, annoyance practically lacing his voice.

“No, not at all,” you lie, only to turn around and continue silently laughing. Your snickering is soon interrupted though, someone coming by and greeting the two of you. Quickly moving closer to Bucky you interact your fingers with his, a fake smile appearing on your face.

“Hi, nice to meet you!!” you greet back, shaking their hands, Bucky doing the same.

“You must be the new neighbours! I’m Karen and this is Russ,” the woman introduces, pointing to her husband.

“It’s nice to meet you too!” you reply, secretly nudging Bucky to show some excitement. He understands the hint, putting on a smile himself.

“Do you need any help with the boxes?” Russ asks, what would’ve been a nice gesture if he wasn’t just trying to get on your good side by wanting to help.

“Oh, no thank you,” you answer, the truck with all the items arriving as if the driver would know what you were just talking about. “We gotta go now, but it was fun meeting you!”

“You too,” she says as the two of them walk away, leaving Bucky and you to unpack.

~

After a couple of hours, everything is set up, from the surveillance gear to the normal stuff, you know, the usual stuff you bring when you’re moving. It isn’t much, since you aren’t going to be here for years but just enough to convince the neighbours you are, in fact, a “normal” couple.

“Do you think they are the masterminds?” you suddenly ask, pointing to the house across from you, gesturing to the couple you met before. Bucky shakes his head no, a focused pout appearing on his face.

“I don’t think so, I just think they are the usual American couple. You know, the one who pretends to like everyone but in reality really despises people,” he explains when he sees your confused expression. You bark out a laugh at that, quickly stopping yourself. It was the first genuine laugh you have ever let slip past your lips in the presence of him when it wasn’t laughing at him. That caught you off guard, leaving you confused for a second.

“I think we got different perspectives on what a basic American couple is. But I’ll take your explanation for these two, cause her name is Karen and let’s just say I don’t have many friendly encounters with Karens,” you smile, Bucky mirroring your expressions. “Also, you can bet that if she had a son she would name him Hunter or something like that,” you add, a chuckle escaping his throat. Oh, god. That sound. You would do anything to hear him do that again.

“Yeah, I can agree on that,” he replies, still not dropping the smile. You suddenly realise this is the longest conversation you have had with the man without fighting. It’s a weird feeling, he seems… less annoying now that you’re out of the compound.

“So, who’s going to be on the watch first? We know it’s one of these people living in houses around us, it’s just a matter of time before they make a mistake,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence. He shrugs, saying he can start if that’s what you want. You’re surprised by his gentleness, how he just casually said “if you want to”, instead of bossing you around like he usually does. You’re slowly starting to get creeped out by all this, the Bucky sitting in front of you is not the one you know.

“Okay, sure. I guess I’ll make dinner then,” you state, cringing at the words leaving your mouth. He makes a face too, looking weirdly at you. “What, we have to eat!” you defend, Bucky raising his hands in defeat.

“I just didn’t think you were the cooking type, that’s all,” he mutters, earning an amused eye roll from you.

“There are many talents you don’t know I have,” you whisper with a wink, turning around on your heels and heading for the kitchen.

~

You head back to where Bucky is sitting with the surveillance gear, two plates in your hand. It smells delicious, at least to you. You decided to cook your favourite meal, thinking that if you can’t get anything good out of this mission you can at least eat tasty food.

Sitting down opposite of him you place a plate next to his arm, not disturbing his focus even a little. You turn to him, slowly starting to dig into the dish. There’s something on his face, a slight shade of discomfort that you can’t quite pinpoint the cause of.

“I’d say take a picture, it’ll last longer but I’m the one holding the camera,” he jokes, catching you in the act. You haven’t even realised you were staring until he called you out on it. You feel a blush creeping up your neck, so you focus back on eating.

“Eat before it gets cold,” you urge, pushing the plate a little closer to him. He obliges, picking up the fork and taking a bite.

“You know, this is not as terrible as I expected it to be,” he confesses, earning a slight slap on the arm from you.

“Hey!” you defend, knowing he was just teasing but giving him the satisfaction nonetheless. But when you think about it, that was a compliment. What the hell? Did James Buchanan Barnes really just compliment you? What is going on?

“Oh, that is not good,” Bucky warns, straightening up. You look at the monitor, your eyes laying on a female form, talking to a male, who’s just enough light up by a street light you recognise him as the informant for the operation the two of you are trying to take down. “Grab your gun and let’s go,” he quickly orders, and you obey. Running down the stairs to the door you point your gun at the ground, looking around the house just to be careful. After all, you wouldn’t wanna someone lurking in the house while you’re out.

Bucky looks over his shoulder to you, pointing to the side door, a silent order that means you should exit there. And once again, you do what you’re told, even though no one said he’s in charge but it’s not really the time for arguing.

Once you’re both outside you look at each other, trying to figure out what to do next without exchanging words. One look at you and you know what he’s thinking about. You both jump around the corner, where the two of them were supposed to be but the street is empty. You lower your gun, a sigh of disapproval slipping past your lips. You really thought you would solve this right about now so you can go home, away from all this weirdness.

“I know,” he says as he hears you, understanding what that was for. “Maybe they split up just as we left?” he suggests, trying to help with the disappointment.

“Probably,” you groan, turning around and starting to walk back to the house. You don’t even take five steps when shots start ringing out - even though it surprised you more than anything ever did, you duck down, your body reacts on its own. Just like the next couple of things are a blur, you somehow manage to lift up your weapon, shooting at the place where you believe the enemy is.

You can hear Bucky groaning, his body laying on the floor as his hand clutches his shoulder and after a minute when no bullets are flying around anymore you run to him, still on high alert. “Bucky!” you whisper-yell, kneeling down beside him. That’s when you see his bloodied shirt, your eyes going wide. “You’re hit.” you mutter, still not believing your eyes.

“I’ll be fine, it barely grazed me,” he assures, but you don’t believe him. Putting away your weapon you help him get up, walking back into the house. He’s practically leaning on you for support, all his power focused on not collapsing till you get to anything he can sit on.

You guide him to the kitchen where he sits on a chair behind the diner table. “Take off your shirt,” you order, already searching for gauzes and stuff to help stop the bleeding.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt, we have to stop the bleeding,” you reply in a worried tone. He obeys, taking off his shirt, hissing at the pain. You close your eyes momentarily, evening out your breathing. You need to be focused right now, your hands need to stop shaking. So you calm down a little, at least enough that you can help him with his wound. “We need to clean it up first,” you inform, swallowing hard when you sense the tremor in your voice. “This shouldn’t hurt, it’s only water,” you try to comfort as you turn to him, only now properly scanning the wound. It’s not that deep, it just grazed him as he said. The bleeding is also not that strong so it should be easy to stop.

“I told you I’m fine,” he softly mutters as his eyes lay upon your focused expression. You look at his face for a second before turning back to his arm.

“Yeah, well, I hope you know how damn lucky you are,” you comment through gritted teeth, anger now boiling inside your veins. The truth is, you don’t even know why you’re mad; he couldn’t predict the bullets, nor was it his fault one hit him. It’s just- everything is too overwhelming. The fact that you were almost shot less than a couple of minutes ago, that your partner actually was, and the worst part of all? You still don’t know the identity of the target.

“Y/N, look at me. I’m okay,” he reassures, suddenly feeling like he needs to tell you again upon hearing the rage in your voice.

“I know. I know,” you whisper, taking a couple of deep breaths. That calms you down a little, the anger disappearing, worry replacing it again. You manage to stop shaking, clean the wound and put on a bandage. He thanks you, a small smile on his lips. Now that the heat of the moment is over you realise what you did - in all the chaos you haven’t noticed you sat down on his lap, nor how weird it was, hearing him be nice to you. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay,” he a little awkwardly replies, also only now realising what you did. His reassurance is enough to make you stay put, allowing your eyes to drag along his body. Moving from the injured arm down his chest, his abs and back up to his scar, where his metal arm begins. You go to touch it but think better of it, knowing he doesn’t like people going anywhere near there with their hands. Truth be told all you want to do is run your fingers along it, or press kisses there, reminding him that The Winter Soldier is not something he has control over, kissing it better, letting him know that all those kills were not on him.

So you do. You touch the scar with the tips of your fingers, testing the water first. He flinches a little but does nothing to indicate he’s uncomfortable, making you look at his face. You stare into those ocean eyes of his, getting lost in the blue. Honestly, you’ve never thought you could ever admit even to yourself that you have feelings for him but when you look into those orbs everything seems so easy all of a sudden. Sighing you lean a little closer, momentarily allowing yourself to glance at his lips. It was so quick and so swift yet he managed to notice, finally seeing the signs that have been there since the moment the two of you met. The never-ending tension, the lingering glances, everything comes rushing to the surface.

“Bucky…”

“I know,” he mutters, crashing his lips on yours. The kiss is sweet yet passionate at the same time, all of your feelings poured into it. His hand is on your waist, the other in your hair - your arms are around his neck, trying to grip something, anything to ground yourself.

After a couple of seconds, you pull away, the urge to breathe becoming too much. You place your forehead against his, your eyes still closed as you take in what just happened. After so much time spent convincing yourself that there was nothing behind that teasing and those witty remarks, everything came crashing down. The tension finally exploded, the feelings were too much to bear.

“That was…”

“Yeah,” he agrees, still not opening his eyes. You laugh happily, still not fully believing all this. He soon joins in, finally looking at you with those beautiful eyes of his.

“I still don’t like you though,” you joke, moving away a little so you could see him properly.

“Yeah, I don’t think I do either,” he adds, pulling a couple more chuckles from you.

“I hate you,” you say, playing with his hair. You don’t really mean it, and he knows it - in fact, those words have a whole new meaning to them now.

“I hate you too,” he replies, pulling you in for another kiss. You smile into it, moving impossibly closer. He simply re-adjusts his hands, hugging you tightly, enjoying that you’re finally in his arms, that you’re finally his.

marvel taglist: @mahjaabeen @hallecarey1 @mirclealignr @cupids-crystals @mcufossilman

bucky barnes: @tenaciousperfectionunknown @pinkcloxds @jackys-stuff-blog @kimoralov3 @mollysolo @johnmurphyisqueer @fairydxll @msfandomfreak

i hope you enjoyed this! don't forget to like, reblog and/or comment, it really helps writers with motivation <33

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[startanewdream]

goodnight kiss

there was this very cute post telling how Ginny kissing Harry goodnight is canon and this idea has been playing around in my mind for a while, so here's a missing moment set during Harry and Ginny's first days of relationship:

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

The first time it happens, Harry thinks it's his fault for being too distracted.

They are in the Common Room and in an effort to prove that he isn't abandoning his best friends just because he is dating now—and a bit to set an example for Ron and Hermione, just in case—, Harry spends the evening finishing an essay with Hermione and then playing chess with Ron. And if his gaze keeps drifting to Ginny, well, he won't feel guilty about it.

She keeps winking at him every time she sees him, her concentrated face breaking into his favourite grin and it takes even more effort to not drop everything and go to her side. But he endures and he is really involved in his match by the time he feels her sweet flowery perfume; he turns at once.

Ginny gives him a bright smile, places a soft kiss that ends even before he registers the feeling of her lips, and waves at the other two.

"I can't keep my eyes open one second longer," she declares heavily. "See you tomorrow."

And then she is gone to her dormitory leaving only the trace of her scent and Harry can't stop the feeling that he must have done something wrong.

The thought slips from his mind until two days later, when it happens again. Ginny is standing against his legs, reading her notes, when she jumps to her feet, stretching her back lazily. "I think I'm gonna crash early today."

"History of Magic?" Harry guesses, eyeing her notes.

"What else?” A smirk blossoms at her lips. “Maybe tomorrow you could help me study something more interesting."

"I could help you now."

"Tempting," she admits unashamedly. "But I'm really tired and I'd rather keep my stamina for a happy Sunday tomorrow."

And Ginny winks at him, lowering her head enough to brush her lips against his—Harry opens his mouth, desperate to feel her taste, to pull her closer—but she is gone before he has the chance.

It bothers him.

The next night, after a very productive day—not for studies if studies are limited to subjects taught at Hogwarts, that's it—, when they are finally saying their goodbyes by the stairs to her dorm, Harry doesn’t leave it to chance.

He pulls her into his arms and even as his hands are cupping her face, fingers feeling the strands of her hair, his mouth captures her, tongue searching for a permission that she grants him at once, and then there is only her sweet taste and the feeling that Harry never found anywhere else but in her. A moan escapes her lips—a sound that Harry treasures each time he hears it—and when they break apart, at last, oblivious to the wolf-whistling in the room and a break of nervous giggles, her face is all flushed.

“Wow,” she whispers, beaming, her eyes the colour of melted chocolate. “What was that for?”

“A goodnight kiss,” he says, but it sounds more like a question.

“It’ll be really hard to sleep after this, but I appreciate it anyway.”

And then Ginny does it again—she kisses him softly, a peck he barely feels with the way his lips are still tingling after that perfect goodnight kiss, and she is gone.

What is he doing wrong?

The question keeps pounding on his mind all night and the following day. By then even Ron is noticing there is something wrong, but Harry can’t share his struggles with him. For one, Harry is sure Ron never faced the same trouble: he and Lavender only did full snog sessions. For two, it’s about Ginny. He can’t ask her brother what is wrong with his kiss.

Ginny finds him by lunchtime, meeting him in front of the Great Hall with a small basket and asking him if he doesn’t wanna have lunch with her on the grounds. Harry doesn’t miss the glance exchanged between Ginny and Hermione and this doesn’t help much.

Ginny waits until they are sitting by the shadow of their favourite tree to start it. “So, what’s bothering you?”

If it was anyone else, Harry would ignore it or divert the subject. But he doesn’t know anyone else but Ginny who would ask him directly like that and this is one of the things he most likes about her anyway, so his answer is truthful.

“Am I a bad kisser?”

Ginny blinks; whatever she was expecting, it clearly wasn’t this. “The amount of time I’ve spent kissing you for the last week shows that I think you’re a very good kisser,” she says slowly. “Where is this coming from?”

He pursues his lips. “You’re avoiding kissing me.”

Another blink. “Er… no?”

“At night at last.” Another of his concerns arise. “Is it bad breath? I can brush—”

“I like your breath,” she assures him at once. “I like everything about kissing you actually. In case it’s not obvious, which apparently isn’t.”

“You—you avoid snogging me at night. As in you give me this… this peck and then you are gone and—”

“That’s just a goodnight kiss, Harry,” she replies quietly. “We don’t have to turn every kiss into a makeout session—not that I’d mind, but also… I enjoy every kiss we share.” A frown marks her forehead suddenly. “Unless you’re not happy with them? I get it if you were hoping we’d have more moments, it’s just with classes and—”

“No, no.” Now another panic floods him. “Every moment we spend together it’s… like something I could never have even imagined. Or if I could—it’s better.”

She breathes slowly. “Good. Because I swear even a little peck just makes me… sparkle.”

“Sparkle?”

A blush spreads across her face but Ginny looks resolute. “Yeah, let me try to show you. Close your eyes—and don’t move.”

He obeys her diligently, closing his eyes and standing still even as he feels the shadow of her face over his. And then he feels her lips over his very gently, tugging at his lower lip, then upper lip; he never really appreciated before how soft her mouth feels as he stands there, feeling their brush. Then she places a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth, the touch sending shivers down his body as effectively as when they are fully kissing.

“Oh,” he whispers when he opens his eyes to find her staring at him nervously. “I see sparkles.”

A beam draws away any worry from her face.

Later that night, Harry finds Ginny exchanging Charms notes with her colleagues.

“You’ll be staying up?” he asks, glancing at her watch. It’s almost midnight.

“We’re almost finishing the revision for Fourth Grade spells.”

“Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, go rest. I’m fine. We can meet for breakfast tomorrow.”

“I’d like that,” he agrees, smiling, and Ginny turns briefly to him, sharing a quick kiss—her mates giggle, still unused to them, but Harry hopes to win them over with time.

“Good dreams.”

He is sure he will dream about her, but Harry feels this is not the moment to disclose this information. Instead, he just nods. “And you too.”

And for good measure, he lowers his head to place a soft kiss on her cheek, admiring how the blood flushes there as if attracted to his mouth. Harry smiles to himself. Perhaps he can start his own goodnight kiss tradition.

[slut4buckysarm]

I Don’t Hate You.

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT (praise kink, multiple orgasms, enemies to lovers, thigh riding, no protection, d in v), language, angst.

MY MOTIVATION TO WRITE COMES FROM COMMENTS SO PLEASE GIVE FEEDBACK :)

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ALL mistakes are my own.

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I admire every single comment, reblog, follow, and like to a great extent :).

—

“Fuck you, Chris!” I yell across the set.

“Ya’know what? Fuck you too!” Chris spits back.

All he had to do was focus on the script. Now we’re both being scolded by the director and we’re both being forced to rehearse our lines for the 40th time.

I grab my pencil out from behind my ear and flip it in my hand.

“Oh, you gonna hit me with that?” he taunts.

“Only if you keep speaking to me in that tone” I reply.

“Well then…” he brings his arms up. “Gimme your best shot”.

I get up from my seat and throw the pencil towards him. It hits him in his head and he gives me a look of offence.

“Bitch.” He speaks while putting his hand to his temple.

“Real mature Evans” I mutter.

“And you throwing a pencil at me was mature?” he chuckles in shock.

“Yeah well next time make sure you memorize your lines before showing up to film.” I say sarcastically. “I’m so done with your shit-”

“Oh you’re done with my shit?” He interrupts. “I have to work with you every single day and you make this job a living hell”.

That’s enough to make my temper rise. I grab another pencil off of the table and raise it, ready to throw.

“That’s enough!!” David, our director yells from the other side of the room. “Put it down Y/F/N”.

I don’t budge.

“I said put it down!” his tone is demanding and I know better than to carry this further.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought” Chris smirks and I throw him a glance.

“You two have great potential and fit your roles perfectly. I would deeply regret having to fire you both and sign another pair of actors, so you guys can stay here until you find a way to work together!” David instructs as he starts walking out of the filming room.

“But-” Chris and I speak simultaneously.

“Find a way to work together!” David interrupts as he locks the door behind him, leaving me and Chris alone.

“Oh well this is just great” Chris utters, taking a seat on the directors chair.

“Seriously? There’s one chair and you’re not even going to offer it to me?” I ask.

He shrugs, leans back, and puts his feet on the table. “I just don’t care enough to”.

“Yeah, well it’s called common courtesy Evans”.

“Yeah, well I guess it ain’t that common Y/L/N.” he laughs bringing his hands to the back of his head.

I hop onto the table and shuffle through the actors files.

Where is it? Where is it?

“Ah, Christopher Robert Evans.” I say with a smirk.

The mans expression drops. “Put that down”.

I flip the page.

“High School dropout”.

“Stop”.

His tone should scare me but he’s the reason we’re in this mess. He deserves this.

“EVN Film Studios”

“I said stop!” Chris yells walking towards me.

I watch as he towers over me. His nostrils flare and I can feel his hot breath on my lips. He grabs the file out of my hand while maintaining eye contact. Chris then throws it onto the table and walks back to his seat.

“It’s a good schoo- What’s wrong with you?” I ask noticing him squinting.

All he does is stay silent and place his left hand onto his temple.

“Rub it. That’s what my mom used to do whenever I got hurt.” I tell him.

He doesn’t move.

“Are you going to-”

“I don’t need to”.

“You clearly do. I mean, it was a wooden pencil. You cant tell me that it didn’t hurt.” I speak, getting a blank stare as a response.

I hop off of the table and start walking towards him. “Fine”.

“What’re you doing Y/L/N?” Chris asks confused.

“Well if you’re not gonna do it…”. I speak mostly to myself.

I try to find a way to easily rub his temple but Chris being in a chair shifts our heights. He pats his thigh and I sit on it with both my legs on either side.

He slightly bounces his leg and places both his hands onto my waist and I can feel myself becoming wet. A hundred dirty thoughts run through my head but I throw them aside.

Rolling my eyes, I gently press my thumb to the side of his head. He squints, and hisses through his teeth in pain when I move closer to where he’s hurt.

“Shhh, I know, I know.” I grab his face instinctively for comfort.

After I finish the massage I move his hair out of his face.

“There.” I say, trying to get up as fast as I can but his hands ground me.

He tightens his grip around my waist, so much so that his knuckles start to turn pale.

“Chris-”

“Chris? Two minutes ago it was Evans darlin.” he interrupts, his electric blue eyes focused on my Y/E/C ones.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“I have to go.” I say breaking eye contact.

“Don’t fight it.” he says, still staring.

“What’re you talking about?” I chuckle.

I know damn well what he’s talking about.

“Come’n Y/F/N. I know how bad you want me” he smirks. “I can see how bad you want me”.

My eyes widen as i’m taken aback. “Chris we’re just friends if even th-”.

The man leans down to my ear. “Say the word friend one more time and I’ll fuck it out of your vocabulary.” he whispers.

I stare him in his eyes and a sudden boost of confidence awakens.

“You’ve been thinking about me, huh?” I chuckle, placing my hands onto his chest.

“Only when I need to come.” he replies.

That’s all it takes for my lips to smash into his. Chris swirls his tongue in my mouth and bites my bottom lip. We fight for dominance but I give in knowing that he won’t.

I moan into his mouth and he starts moving my hips. The friction of his jeans feel unbearably good on my cunt and I start to move my hips faster as Chris tangles his hands into my hair.

“Fuck Chris. Right there!”

“That’s it sweetheart, make yourself feel good.” he speaks on my lips.

I throw my head back in pleasure and he trails his sloppy kisses to my neck. I feel the knot grow tighter in my core and know i’m close.

“Chris fuck i’m so close” I moan, my hands grabbing the back of his hair.

“I know you are darlin, come for me. Make a mess all over me”.

That’s all it takes for my to release onto him. My wetness pools on his black jeans creating a dark spot.

“That what you needed?” Chris questions.

I nod in answer, too exhausted to speak.

“Oh I'm not done with you just yet Y/L/N”.

He hoists me onto the table and runs his eyes over my body.

“Won’t be need’n this…” Chris mutters ripping off my tank top. “…Or this.” he finishes, pulling my pants down my waist.

He then pulls his pants down along with his boxers. His cock springs out once free, tip covered in a white liquid. He spreads his pre-cum onto the rest of his dick and lines himself up with my entrance.

Chris moves the tip of his cock up and down my slick and looks up at me, waiting for an answer.

“Chris…” I speak out of breath.

“So eager”.

I nod my head over and over again, desperate to feel him inside of me.

“Words,Y/F/N. I need words”.

“I need you, Chris” I say with a pout.

That’s all he needs to push into me with full force. My velvet walls flutter contacting with Chris’ vein.

“Oh my- fuck yes!” My moans are music to his ears.

“So. Fucking. Perfect huh?” Chris mutters into my ears, thrusting with each word.

All I do is bite my bottom lip and nod, agreeing.

He grabs ahold of the edge of the table behind me and the cheap wood cracks with the pressure of his fist, but he doesn’t stop and God I don’t want him to. He keeps rocking his hips into mines over and over and over again.

I can feel Chris’ hands dig deeper into my hips. He moves his right one to my mouth and rubs a finger on my lips. He then trails his hand down to my right boob and starts playing with my nipple. He twists, turns, and squeezes the bud, and I throw my head back in pleasure.

“Yes Chris! Right there!”. I moan his name like a prayer.

Chris then moves his left hand lower and brings it to my cunt. Every circle that his thumb makes sends electric like currents through my body and I shut my eyes tight.

“Don’t you dare look away. Keep your eyes on me darlin’.” Chris groans on my lips.

I open my eyes again and kiss him back.

“That’s it sweetheart. You’re doin so well for me”. His dirty talk brings me closer to my edge.

I feel his cock spasm inside of me and that’s all I need to reach my climax. I let go onto him screaming his name, and he follows behind me.

Chris’ body falls onto mines, but he catches himself with his forearms. He pulls himself out of me and tugs his pants up.

“Guess we just found a way to work together.” he chuckles, watching a mixture of our juices run down my leg.

please give feedback and reblog if you enjoyed.

[h0tchner]

Any Age, Any Day, Anywhere (Part 1) - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: WRITTEN FOR AN ANON REQUEST: "ok hi so u already wrote a jealous reader and was wondering whats your take on jealous hotch? i mostly see him in fics as possessive and yeah being the leader type i would think he could also be possessive but i also think that he would just be sad like ya know he doubts himself as we saw in some episodes and i think he would need assurance and a lot of convincing that u only love him but if you’ve given that to him then thats the time he would be possessive and god i would love to imagine a possessive and feral aaron hotchner"

word count: 3.5k

includes: kissing, so much freaking adorable fluff, talk of body insecurities, insecure!hotch, protective!hotch, wifey reader, super brief mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, confrontation with a drunk asshole (derek & hotch are all over it tho dw), party at papa rossi's!, smut to come in next chapter...

rating: 18+ (technically there is no smut in this part, but there are adult themes such as drinking, kissing, etc.).

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! This is part one of a two-part fic! The next part will be pure filth, so keep your eyes peeled for some feral hotch content... ALSO! PLS (!!!!!!!!!!!) interact if you liked this, rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

“Aaron! Can you come here for a sec?” you call out to your husband from the bathroom, muttering curses under your breath as you try (and fail) for the third time to zip up the back of your black cocktail dress.

“Sure, I just need a minute,” he replies from the bedroom closet, securing the last opalescent button on the arm of his white dress shirt. He looks at himself in the closet mirror, zeroing in at the bags under his eyes and the sprinkling of grey in his stubble. He looks… tired. Tired and old. And he hates it.

Even though Aaron is only in his late-40s, he has lived lifetimes; years of working as Unit Chief of the BAU will do that to a man. Every horror he’s seen and every person he’s lost has weighed on his body and mind. In the past few months, amidst work changes and a new baby, he’s been exhausted and in fear that he’s letting himself go. Of course, being the stoic man that he is, he’s done his absolute best to hide these feelings from you. Tonight, however, he doesn’t know if he can. It’ll be your first night out together as a couple since welcoming baby girl Hotchner to the family four months ago. With no pressing family or work distractions, he just knows that you’ll be able to sense his apprehensions. It’s only a matter of when.

Taking in a breath, he turns a little to the side, frowning at his profile. Aaron winces a little at his “dad bod,” but quickly recovers from the discomfort, milliseconds after it flashes across his face.

“Aaron Hotchner get your handsome butt in here and help me zip my dress! We’re gonna be late,” you exclaim, trying one last time to reach the zipper before giving up and crossing your arms in defeat. You lean back lightly against the countertop facing the door, letting the fabric slip off your shoulders, and wait for your husband to rescue you from the hell that is this dress.

At the sound of your voice, Aaron snaps out of his trance. He shakes his head lightly, as if to physically erase the intrusive thoughts, and clears his throat. Grabbing his suit jacket off the hanger, he flicks off the closet light and closes the door behind him.

Languidly, he meanders from the closet toward the bathroom. He drags his feet a little longer than he normally would, still feeling off and a little bit shy about his appearance.

“Aaron,” you sing, “I’m waiting for –,” your jaw drops mid-sentence when Aaron appears in the doorway.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out before you can stop yourself, eyes widening at the sight of the gorgeous man in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, crossing over to you, searching your face for any ounce of reprieve.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” you’re quick to reply, standing from your leaning position to meet him, holding out your hands.

He takes them in his own, cocking his head slightly, his soft hazel eyes boring into yours.

You shift forward, moving up on your toes to peck his soft pink lips.

He sighs into the kiss, feeling the warmth of your lips against his own. It feels so good that it almost makes him forget about how he is feeling… almost. But the dark thoughts come back, and he pulls away from you a bit, reluctantly.

Aaron clears his throat.

“You called me?” He questions, but it sounds more like a fact.

“Yeah,” you give his hands a squeeze. “I needed you to zip up my dress, but now,” you lean in again, “I kinda want you to rip it off me.” You offer him a sultry smirk, moving your hands up to rest on his broad chest. He moves his hands to settle on your hips.

You lick your lips and let your eyes rake over his body, taking in every ounce of his sexy frame. The way his crisp, white dress shirt hugs his solid body makes you go weak in the knees. His strong, toned legs in those black dress pants? Yes please. His soft black hair and salt and pepper stubble on his face are practically begging to be touched. He looks good. Damn good.

“You look…” you pause, tapping a finger lightly against his pectoral, searching for the right word, “…delicious.”

Aaron blushes lightly at your ogling, offering you a sad smile as he squeezes his eyes shut out of embarrassment.

You sense the falter in his demeanor, knowing that there’s something else nagging at him far beyond his usual flustering when you vocalize your attraction to him.

“Honey,” you implore, looping your hands around his neck to bring his forehead down to touch yours. “What’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours?”

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, swallowing, rubbing soft circles into your sides.

“It’s something,” you counter, carding a hand through his hair at the nape of his neck. You scratch lightly at his scalp, waiting for him to speak. You’ve learned that the best thing to do when Aaron gets in a mood is to give him some time to gather his thoughts. Keeping him close, physically, is a way to show him some comfort without pressuring him to speak. It encourages him, without words, that your arms are a safe place.

“I don’t…” he starts, and then stops himself. His dark eyebrows furrow and his mouth presses into a thin line.

“Mhm?” you question, fingers still tangled in his thick, black locks.

He pulls his forehead away from yours and locks eyes with you. You let your hands be still now, a silent gesture to show him that you’re listening.

He takes in a breath.

“I don’t look the way I used to,” he says quietly, shifting his eyes away from yours.

“What do you mean,” you urge him to continue.

“I mean, I don’t look like I did five years ago. Two years ago. Four months ago. I mean, I was practically a different man when we first met. I was younger, fitter…” he trails off, visibly upset.

“Yes, Aaron, you were,” you agree, keeping your tone temperate.

His eyes snap to yours, confused. It’s clear that was not what he was expecting you to say.

“You were a different man,” you continue gently, resuming your pacifying touch in his hair, “and I was a different woman.”

Aaron lets out a huff.

“Do you love me any less now than you did five years ago?” You ask him.

“Of course not,” he’s quick to answer.

“Why is that?” You prod.

“You’re gorgeous, inside and out. You’re funny, smart, loving…” he begins, but you interrupt him before he can go on.

“And,” you butt in, “if I were to go completely grey, gain thirty pounds, and only wear a potato sack to work every day would you love me any less?”

Aaron huffs again, but this time he’s fighting a smile. He’s starting to catch on. You watch as a spark of levity returns to his eyes. He holds you a little tighter.

“No. There’s nothing you could do or say to make me love you any less,” he grumbles in annoyance, but his upturned lip and matching eyebrow tell a different story.

“Ditto, baby,” you smile up at him. “I love you at any age, any day, anywhere, and there is nothing in the world that can make me change my mind.”

He dips down then, capturing you in a kiss, grinning against your lips.

You giggle as Aaron works his way down your jawline and neck, gasping as he kisses the soft skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder, thick fingers gripping the sides of your hips. He moves his lips back up to your earlobe, nipping at it lightly as you let out another soft gasp.

“You always know the right thing to say,” he whispers into your ear, pressing another kiss right underneath it.

“Aaron, I know I said I wanted you to take this dress off me,” you say breathlessly as Aaron nips at your shoulder again, “but Rossi will kill us if we don’t show up tonight. Plus, I really want the chance to show off my super sexy FBI husband. It’s been far too long.”

He lets out a low groan into your skin and gives your hips a squeeze, nuzzling his head into your neck.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always,” you snort, eliciting a chuckle from your husband as you turn around in his arms to let him zip you up.

He takes his time, letting his fingers brush lightly over your spine as he draws the zipper over your back. When he’s done and the clasp is latched, he kisses one shoulder lightly, and then the other.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning back against his warm body.

“No, honey,” he kisses the top of your head, “thank you.”

_____________________________________________________________

By the time you and Aaron arrive at Rossi’s mansion, the party is already in full swing. Judging by the number of cars in the makeshift parking lot on his spacious front lawn, there must be at least fifty, maybe even a hundred people here.

Despite the bustle of the evening, it doesn’t take long for you two to find Emily, Penelope, and Derek in the living room, drinks in hand, snacking on some very expensive looking food.

“Hey, look! It’s the Hotchners!” Emily cheers, teetering on the arm of the leather couch, wine glass in hand.

“Hello beautiful BAU power-couple!” Penelope chimes in from the seat next to her, cuddled up into Derek’s side.

You laugh and let go of Aaron’s hand, walking over to greet your friends.

“Hey hot stuff, look at you, look at you!” Derek chimes in, eyeing you up and down before standing to shake Aaron’s hand.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes at him as you give Emily a big hug.

“And you don’t look bad yourself, boss man!” Derek adds.

You shoot your husband an ‘I told you so’ look over your shoulder, before untangling your arms from Emily and giving Penelope an equally enthusiastic squeeze.

“It’s good to see you all,” Aaron smiles lightly, all dimples in the low light. He steps in to give Emily and Penelope soft hugs.

“Let’s go get you a drink,” Derek says to Aaron, clapping him on the back.

“White?” Aaron looks to you, even though he already knows the answer.

“Yes please,” you respond, “thank you.”

“Be back soon,” he smiles easily, kissing your cheek, making your heart ache.

Aaron and Derek turn and exit the room together.

Penelope drunkenly pats the seat next to her, and you plop down on the couch.

“We’ve missed you like this!” Emily exclaims, gesturing between the three of you and around the room. “I can’t believe we’ve had to wait nine whole months plusanother four just to have a drink with our best friend again.”

You laugh at her, tilting your head back lightly. “Well, you guys got a beautiful little niece out of it, doesn’t that make up for all the wild girl’s nights I missed?”

Emily sighs, dramatically, “I guess so,” she jests.

“Oh, for sure.” Penelope adds. “You look freaking gorgeous, by the way. I mean, I would have never guessed you were creating a tiny human in that body only a few months ago!”

You blush lightly at her words, “You flatter me far too much, Pen. I owe this,” you gesture down at your figure, “all to Spanx!”

“Amen!” Emily toasts. You raise an imaginary glass to theirs and pretend to clink, taking a swig of invisible liquid.

“Are J.J. and Will here?” You ask them after they’ve had a few more sips of their wine.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emily nods, “they’re around somewhere.”

You take a moment and look around the room, taking in all the sights and the sounds of the party. You see some faces you recognize from around the bureau, but others you don’t. Just as you’re about to turn back to your friends, someone catches your eye. One face stands out from the crowd: he’s a young, suave-looking man in a sharp navy suit. Sandy hair perfectly gelled, shiny brown loafers, and bright blue eyes looking right at you. In another life you would have been exhilarated by his attention, apparent charm, and good looks, but now? Now, you’re married to the love of your life with an amazing stepson and a wonderful baby girl. His wolfish gaze means absolutely nothing to you. You simply flash him a curt smile and turn back to Emily and Penelope without a second thought.

You and your friends resume your chatter, waiting for the men to return with more drinks... only they don’t. Perhaps its “new mother anxiety” talking, but the longer your husband is gone, the more you start to grow concerned. A few more minutes pass of antics, laughter, and catching up until the nagging voice in the back of your head turns into an all-out scream. All you know is that you’re suddenly feeling very overwhelmed need to be with Aaron. So, you announce to your friends that you’re going to hunt down Derek and your husband.

You stand from the couch and smooth out the skirt of your dress with the promise to be back in a few minutes.

You walk out of the living room and into the grand foyer, following the same route as Aaron had earlier. Your black kitten heels click on the marble flooring, the skirt of your dress swishing lightly as you walk with purpose towards the kitchen. You’re so concentrated on reaching your destination that you don’t realize the man who had been watching you in the living room was now hot at your heels, following you through the house. It’s only when a hand reaches out and jerks your arm backward that you stop, startled, just past the grand staircase, turning face to face with him.

“You’re not an easy woman to get alone,” he smirks, reeking of alcohol, still gripping your arm, tight. Up close he is decidedly not as handsome as the low light of the living room made him seem. In fact, he seems… creepy. Really, really, really, creepy.

“Can I help you?” You blink at him, pulling your arm out of his vice grip.

“You sure can, baby,” he steps closer to you, voice oozing with sleaze. You gag at the liquor on his breath.

Moving away, you scowl at him, crossing your arms across your chest.

“What’s say you and I head upstairs for a little while? I’m dying to get my hands on your body.” He jerks his head toward the staircase, reaching out to grab your arm again.

You’re fuming at this point, ready give him a piece of your mind when a stern voice beats you to it.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” Aaron articulates, approaching you both with Derek not far behind.

You breathe a sigh of relief as your husband glares at the drunken man vengefully, coming to stand by your side. Aaron pulls you into him, roughly, hand tight around your waist. The anger radiating off your husband is equally terrifying and HOT.

“Take a walk, man,” Derek adds in, coming to stand next to the drunken asshole. The man looks from you, to Aaron, then over to Derek, and finally back at you.

“Whatever,” the man grumbles, putting his hands up, “she’s not worth it anyway. Not pretty enough for the hassle. I just thought she looked like an easy lay.”

“That’s enough,” Aaron snaps, seething. “Leave now, before I make you,” your husband growls. He angles his body forward so you’re slightly behind him. A shiver passes through you at his fierce protectiveness.

“Fine, I’m going to get another drink,” the man utters.

“No,” Aaron interjects, “the party. Leave the party or I’ll have you removed.”

“What’s your problem?” The creepy man retorts, this time, more confrontationally.

“My problem?” Aaron says, angrily. You feel his entire body tense at the accusation.

“Hotch,” Derek warns, “I’ll take care of it. You guys go enjoy yourselves. Forget about him.”

“Come on, Aaron,” you tug on his suit jacket lightly, eyes pleading… but Aaron doesn’t budge from his spot. He only holds you tighter as he continues to stare down the man as Derek ushers him away and towards the front door. He doesn’t falter until they are out of sight.

“Aaron?” You repeat.

He looks down at you, finally, blinking away the fury until all that’s left is an all-consuming love. He releases you from his protective hold, and you face him.

“I’m okay,” you assure him in earnest, letting out a shaky breath.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” he breathes, bringing his hands up to cup your face.

“Aaron, it’s okay, really,” you bite your lip, shifting your eyes away from his.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron kisses your forehead, and then the top of your head. “So, so beautiful, and I’m so sorry.”

“Aaron, can we just go home?” You ask.

“Sure,” he kisses your head one last time before weaving his fingers between yours and guiding you gently toward the back exit.

_____________________________________________________________

The car ride home is quiet. The only sounds are the occasional click of the turn signal, and the hum of the wheels on the road. Aaron is still upset, and so are you, but you’re also… something else. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. You feel guilty for ruining the evening, guilty that you FEEL guilty for something you had no control over, hungry, tired, and… horny? Oh, and guilty for feeling horny.

It isn’t helping that one of Aaron’s hands is planted firmly on your thigh. He lifts it only to adjust the air conditioning or to scratch his nose, but otherwise it remains on you the whole way home. When he pulls into the driveway of your shared house, and shuts the car off, he still doesn’t move it.

“Honey?” You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are closed. You take in the strong features of his profile, noting the prominence of his nose and the way his eyelashes rest on his high cheekbones.

“I almost punched him.” Aaron whispers, opening his eyes to look over at you sheepishly.

“You what,” you exhale, mouth slightly agape.

“That guy,” he continues, bringing his left hand up to pinch his nose. “I almost punched him for saying that about you.”

You snort, amused by his confession.

Your husband lets out a short laugh, squeezing your thigh as he does.

“I would’ve liked to see that.” You’re grinning now and so is he.

He flashes his eyes at you and laughs again, this time less anxiously. You join him, feeling the tension dissipate with every passing moment.

“My big, bad FBI man decking a barely-legal drunk dickhead for making a move on his wife? Where can I get my tickets?” You joke.

As you say the words “his wife,” Aaron’s breath hitches in his throat. His hand on your thigh presses down instinctively. Neither of his reactions go unnoticed.

You lay a hand over his where it rests on your leg.

“You know, Aaron,” you begin.

He looks over at you, jaw tight, but this time it isn’t from anger.

“This is the first time we’ve had the house all to ourselves in months,” you pull his hand off you and bring it up to your lips. You press a kiss to his palm, and then to his wrist.

“This… is true,” he breathes out, studying you, taking you in.

“So, I’m just wondering:” you grin, linking your fingers with his, “are you going to carry your wife into our house, Aaron? Or do I have to walk myself?”

[seijorhi]

Reminiscent

i’m (semi) back, y’all, and i come bearing a fic!! fhdjhfjdk it’s for oikawa i won’t apologise

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

TW non-con, drunk/drugged reader, forced infidelity, emotional manipulation, angst, past trauma, coercion, mild(ish?) smut, nsfw

“F-fuck, cutie! Just like – hah– just like that!”

You weren’t the clubbing type.

Not usually, at least – but exams were over and one of your friends was fresh off a bad breakup, one night letting loose wouldn’t hurt.

Walking is… difficult, your steps are sloppy – there’s an arm wrapped around your waist, your own slung over a stranger’s shoulders. Why are you outside? Where are your friends – they… they promised they wouldn’t leave you. 

“She good, dude?”

A soft, pretty laugh rumbles at your side, “Yeah, she’s gonna be just fine.”

And you remember the bar, the overpriced cocktails and the saccharine sweetness of strawberry liquor on your tongue. The dizzying lights and the bass that thumped so loudly you felt it reverberate in your chest. You knew the rules; they’d been drilled into you since you were sixteen years old.

Stick together, don’t accept drinks from strangers, and watch the one in your hand like a hawk - it doesn’t leave your sight.

A tongue between the valley of your breasts, long fingers curling up inside of you. 

“You like that, huh pretty girl? You gonna cum for me?”

They wouldn’t have just abandoned you, right? Maybe you told them to go. Maybe they thought you wanted it; to go home with the handsome stranger.

You never had the guts to ask them, never spoke about that night again. Not to anyone.

Pain. Something thrusting inside of you, splitting you open while he moans and pants atop you. It hurts so much and you want it to stop. 

Please stop. Please. Please. Please.

You’re begging, at least you think you are, but the words come out jumbled and wrong, and he just laughs, hiking up your thigh so he can fuck you deeper.

Why won’t he stop?

When you wake up, bruised and sore and all alone in your bed, it feels like a bad dream. You know it’s not – not with cum still seeping from between your thighs, the scent of the stranger’s cologne clinging to your sheets.

And you scrub your skin raw in the shower, but it isn’t enough to rid you of his touch.

—

It’s nothing like what they show on tv.

There’s no sympathetic detective to pat you on your shoulder while you break down, swearing that they’ll find the man who did this and you’ll get your justice.

You don’t go to the cops because you’ll know what they’ll say. You were drunk, drugged, and even if you could remember what he looked like (his eyes were brown, you think, and there’s a flash of a smirk in your head but the moment you try to focus on it it slips away like smoke) any evidence of rape washed down the drain the moment you stepped into the steaming shower.

At least… that’s what you tell yourself. It’s easier than admitting you’re terrified of judgemental eyes. 

Or worse; pitying ones.

So you pretend that nothing happened. You show up to your classes and throw yourself into studying, make the time to get coffee with your friends, you even pick up a part time job – it’s good to keep busy. 

The nightmares are just that; nightmares.

And things are fine, until they’re not.

—

“Baby, you’re here!!”

There’s barely time to drop your bags before she’s pulling you into a warm hug. “Hi mom,” you reply, squeezing her back.

When she draws back to take you in, one hand cupping your cheek, she frowns, “You look tired sweetheart. Have you been sleeping enough?”

“Yeah, just tired from exams and stuff.”

She looks unconvinced, but mercifully doesn’t push the issue. Of course, you don’t tell her that you missed your last two exams because you’d walked past some guy wearing that same cologne and just choked – that instead of finishing off your semester strong, you’d spent the day alternating between throwing up and crying in bed.

She doesn’t need to know that, because of that, you’ll probably fail both classes and have to retake them again next semester on top of an already full course load. It’s fine; you’ll figure it out.

For now, you work on matching her enthusiasm at having you home, grabbing your bags to bring them inside and into your old room.

“Oh, wait–”

Abruptly, you pause, gazing in confusion from the doorway of your bedroom. There’s a duffle bag lying open and empty atop your bed, a tangled jump rope, some weights, an empty bottle, a sweat towel – even what looks like a spare workout tee scattered haphazardly across the sheets.

“… I didn’t take you for a gym junkie, mom.”

She stops behind you, sighing. “It’s not mine it’s– Tooru said he was going to tidy it up, sorry sweetheart.” She sweeps past you to start tidying it up, but not before you catch sight of her wide eyed, deer in headlights expression.

And you can’t help the lone eyebrow that rises, falling back against the doorframe, arms folding across your chest. “Tooru, huh?” you grin, “And who might Tooru be?”

The flustered, almost guilty look she sends you makes you want to laugh – this is easy, comfortable, this you can do – but you restrain yourself. Just. “Tooru is… he’s– well, he’s the man I’m… seeing.”

She admits it like she’s confessing to a crime, eyes all wide and nervous; anticipating your reaction. And you suppose it’s not unwarranted. As far as you’re aware, she’s been alone ever since the day your dad walked out on you both – raising you was always the priority, or maybe the excuse. But you’re not fourteen anymore, you don’t need another father figure or every spare bit of her time and attention, and she doesn’t need your approval for this.

So you smile at her, “Is he nice?”

She lights up, her features – almost a mirror image of your own – softening as she beams, “He’s amazing, honey. I honestly don’t know how this whole thing really happened, or why he’s even interested in someone like me but… I lucked out with him.”

And so it goes, you prying little bits of information about the mysterious Tooru as the afternoon passes.

She tells you that they met a few months back, at the bakery she likes in town – and how she kept running into him; at the grocery store, and then at the park, and then on her way back from yoga that one night.

She tells you that he’s a terrible flirt, all smooth and charming with warm, pretty brown eyes, but he’s a good man beneath it all and she’s never met anyone like him. 

It strikes you, as you watch your mom animatedly talk about him, that you’ve never seen her look like this before. 

Happy. 

She can’t stop smiling, and when you look at her, really look, she’s almost a different person – younger somehow, a bit more care-free. It suits her, and you wonder with a slight pang in your heart how you never noticed how lonely she was before.

And she’s adamant that they’re taking things slowly, that he still has an apartment of his own in town – which to be honest, you really aren’t gonna judge her on either way – but it is kind of funny simply because whether your mom realises it or not, it’s clearly a lie.

The subtle reclaiming of your bedroom aside, there’s traces of Tooru scattered all around the house; the extra toothbrush and aftershave you’d spotted in the bathroom, the men’s  shoes and the jacket by the door, red wine in the cupboard when your mom’s only ever indulged in white.

You haven’t been into her bedroom, but at this point you’d hazard a guess that there’s at least one drawer full of Tooru’s clothes, probably half her closet cleared out for him as well.

“He’s coming for dinner, but I just wanted today to be just us,” she says, reaching across the couch to squeeze your hand. And you’re grateful for it, because you’re happy for her – you are – but you’re not so sure how you would’ve handled meeting the stranger holding your mother’s heart first thing. At least, not after the last few days.

Not when you still feel all… brittle. 

—

Tooru arrives a little after seven, and to say that he’s not entirely what you were expecting is kind of an understatement. 

She’d gushed about how tall and handsome he is – though personally, you think pretty’s the more accurate word, what with his soft, delicate features, perfect cupid’s bow lips and all. What she’d neglected to tell you was that the man in question, stepping through the front door with a faint smile on his face, has to be at least ten years younger than her, mid-thirties at most.

Suddenly, your mom’s initial reluctance to bring him up starts to make sense.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he murmurs, stopping by your mom to drop a fleeting kiss to her cheek before warm brown eyes turn to you. 

Your heart stutters.

“Sweetheart,” your mom begins, slipping an arm around his waist and relaxing into his side, “this is Tooru– Oikawa,” she corrects herself.

He smiles at you, friendly and charming, “It’s great to finally meet you, your mom’s told me so much – all good things, of course!”

You force yourself to smile in return, “Yeah, you too.” 

There’s nothing overtly wrong with Oikawa, age difference aside – your mom’s clearly head over heels in love with the guy and on a surface level he seems nice enough, but you find yourself glad for the fact that he doesn’t make a move to step closer, try to shake your hand or god forbid hug you or something like that.

He’s nothing but a gentleman as your mom steps back into the kitchen to finish off dinner, setting the table without being prompted, pouring a glass of wine for your mom and one for himself before he offers a glass to you. 

“Oh, no I’m alright, thanks.”

You don’t drink so much anymore. He shrugs, like it’s no big deal but your mom pouts at you from the kitchen. “C’mon, sweetie. We’re celebrating tonight! One drink won’t hurt.”

“We’re celebrating?” you ask.

She throws you a wink, gaze softening as she turns to glance at Oikawa, already diligently pouring you a glass, “Of course we are. It’s not every day my girl comes home, and it’s nice having you both here with me.”

Oikawa’s fingers brush against yours for a fleeting second as he passes you the glass, and you have to fight to keep yourself from ripping your hand away. It’s nothing, you just– you’re not good with strangers touching you, and as nice as he is and as much as your mom might be infatuated with him, he is still a stranger.

“Absolutely,” he agrees, a playful twinkle in his eye as he clinks his wine glass against yours. “So you’re at uni, right? What are you studying?”

Uni’s the last thing you want to be thinking about right now, but whether or not Oikawa genuinely cares, he’s obviously trying to make an effort to get to know you. For your mother’s sake, grinning innocuously in the kitchen as she adds the last little touches to dinner, you suck it up, plaster a smile across your face and ignore the twinge of discomfort in your gut.

You can handle one night of small talk.

—

You wake the following morning to the sound of voices carrying down the hall.  

Not your mother’s – both are too deep, and your mom left a few hours ago for work. Figuring that one of them at least is likely Oikawa, you pull on a thin, satin robe over your pajamas, tying the sash in a loose knot before you slip from the room.

Those suspicions are proven correct; you round the corner to find Oikawa sitting up at the kitchen counter, a warm cup of coffee in his hand. There’s another man, a touch shorter, but imposing with dark, spiky hair and olive green eyes standing on the other side, hands braced on the marble top, glaring at Oikawa.

They both look up at the sound of your hesitant approach, the stranger abruptly straightening up, while Oikawa merely grins.

“Ah, you’re up,” he observes cheerfully, taking a sip of his coffee.

Your eyes flicker between him and the stranger – clearly comfortable enough in your home and with Oikawa, despite the faint, lingering irritation still visible on his face – and as your cheeks warm, you find yourself wishing you’d put actual clothes on before coming out to investigate.

“I- I heard voices…” you trail off, awkwardly folding your arms over your chest. “Is mom–”

“At work,” he supplies. “Do you want some breakfast? Coffee, maybe?”

You risk another glance at the other man, watching you now with an unreadable expression, dark eyebrows furrowed. You swallow uncomfortably, shifting slightly as you shake your head. “No, I-I’m okay.”

And in an instant, a flash, something like recognition passes through those olive eyes. 

 Oikawa chuckles smoothly, finally tearing his eyes away from you to address his friend, “Iwa, stop being so rude. You’re scaring the poor thing.”

The stranger, Iwa, just scoffs. “You’re a real piece of shit, y’know?”

If he’s bothered by the scathing insult, Oikawa doesn’t show it, merely shrugging before turning his attention back to you with a smirk. “Ignore him, he’s just pissy this morning.”

You’d have to be a complete idiot not to sense the uncomfortable tension between the two of them – and now you. This is your home, but it feels like you’re intruding, like you’ve stumbled into a conversation you have no business hearing, but even if you wanted to leave your feet are rooted to the ground. 

“Besides,” Oikawa continues, “he was just leaving anyway, weren’t you, Iwa?” It’s almost a purr, the way he speaks, but even the silken words can’t entirely mask the razor sharpness that lies beneath. 

Goosebumps prickle along your arms.

Staring at you, Iwa opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but seemingly thinks better of it, snapping it shut with an audible click. He huffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

He spares you another glance on his way out, standing frozen by the hall. For a split second he slows, his scowl softening just a fraction–

“Iwa.”

It sounds like a warning, but he only rolls his eyes and huffs again. You think he’s going to walk out without another word to either of you, but he pauses once more, lingering by the entryway.

“You look a lot like your mother, anyone ever tell you that?”

He’s out the door before you can even think to reply, letting it slam shut in his wake. And you flinch at the harsh sound, something uneasy settling into the pit of your stomach–

“Hey,” Oikawa’s there by your side, his fingers entwining with yours. You hadn’t even heard him move. “Come sit, don’t worry about Iwa. He’ll get over it.”

His voice is soothing, you don’t pay attention to the words themselves, the implications there. You forget for a moment that you’re still in your pj’s, that you really don’t know him that well either, and mindlessly follow when he leads you to the couch and sits you down, taking the seat next to you.

And while your head’s still spinning, an uncomfortable feeling gnawing in the pit of your gut, Oikawa seems entirely unbothered by the turn of events, sighing contentedly as he stretches his long legs out, one arm sliding along the back of the couch behind you.

“Do your… friends usually just drop by like that?”

You don’t know where the words come from, or why that’s the first question on your mind, but when you glance over at him, Oikawa’s just watching you, an odd little half smirk playing on his lips. “Sometimes.”

His answer does little to soothe your unease. It’s really not a big deal, you know it’s not. Officially or not, this is his home too – you’re the one out of place. And if he wants to have people over when your mom’s not around, that’s fine, he can do whatever the hell he wants, but… 

You came home for peace. To hide away for a few days and pretend that everything’s just fine and you’re not one breakdown away from shattering entirely. You wanted your mom and the comfort of your old bedroom and safety and it’s fine – great, even – that she’s found somebody who makes her happy, but this– him and the weirdness with his friend and everything is just too much, and–

You don’t realise that your leg’s bouncing until Oikawa’s hand comes to rest on your bare thigh. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, an icy chill trickling down your spine as his thumb slowly strokes across the soft, plush skin. “Relax, cutie,” he coos, chuckling softly when you visibly flinch and squeeze your eyes shut.

“P-please don’t call me that,” you choke out, fighting against the wave of nausea rising up your throat. And it’s just like last time, his cologne, notes of vanilla and cedar and spice, swirling thick and heady around you. That phantom touch, the warmth of hands gripping too tight, unwanted kisses hot and eager against your skin. 

“No?” he asks, cruel amusement dripping from his tone. “Why not? I think it suits you, cutie.”

You want him to stop, to push him away, slap him – do anything really, but you’re frozen in place, shaking as the memories you’ve fought so hard to shove down come bubbling back to the surface. You can’t think straight, not with his hand sliding between your thighs, the warmth of his body pressing too closely against yours.

“Iwa was right, you know,” Oikawa murmurs, smoldering brown eyes drinking you in as you childishly shake your head, willing him away. His other hand catches your cheek, drawing your face back to him as tears well in your eyes, stubbornly clinging to your lashes. “She does look so much like you, the same eyes even.” 

He whispers it like a secret, nuzzling his nose against yours like a lover would as he sighs sweetly, “It’s the only reason I could stand it.”

And then he’s kissing you, the tenderness of his lips belied by iron fingers digging into your jaw when you whimper and try to wrench yourself free. 

It’s not like the nightmares that startle you awake in the middle of the night, gasping for air; hazy, broken recollections that fade the moment you try to reach for them. No, every touch, every moment of his assault passes in stark clarity.

The feel of Oikawa’s mouth as it trails greedily down your neck, his hand sliding under the cotton of your sleep shorts, even his pleased little hum when he realises you’re not wearing panties. “Such a good girl for me. Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

This time there’s no drugs in your system keeping you pliant and helpless, but that doesn’t make a difference. Not when his words echo in your head, playing again and again until every awful, sickening piece falls into place.

Long, nimble fingers stroke at your folds, and you can’t help the shivery gasp that leaves you when the tip of his middle finger sweeps over your clit. 

“Please– please don’t do this,” you sniffle.

Oikawa presses another fleeting kiss to your shoulder, “Shh, none of that. Let me help you, baby.”

“N-no, I don’t, I don’t– Stop!”

Knocking away the hands that try to push him back, he hooks his fingers over the hem of your shorts and slides them down your legs, your pitifully weak struggles only making things easier for him. It’s only when Oikawa reaches for his own zipper that panic truly strikes home.

You can’t just lie here and let this happen again. You won’t.

And like a switch flipped, you start to trash like a wild thing beneath him, the scream you’ve kept buried inside of you for months ripping itself free from your throat–

Only for the fingers that had been toying with your pussy to be shoved down your throat, cutting you off with a choked gurgle. As you gag, fruitlessly try to tug yourself free, Oikawa leans in nice and close – except this time there’s no gentleness to his expression, nothing but viciousness as he grins and bares his teeth. 

“You wanna yell, pretty girl? Want the neighbours to come running, let them see me fuck you?” He grinds his hips against you, his breath shivery as he pants at the friction of his half hard cock against your side. Nausea twists at your gut, acrid and bitter – you want to be sick, to cry and beg with him to stop but with his fingers still stuffed in your mouth, his thumb digging into the soft underside of your jaw all you can manage is an unintelligible whine. He hums, kissing away the single hot tear that spills down your cheek, “You think if you cry loudly enough, mommy’ll come home and save you?”

And it’s like time stands still as he laughs, cruel eyes glinting when he presses down on your tongue, warm saliva pooling around his digits. “Such a little whore, trying to seduce her poor, innocent boyfriend the very moment her back’s turned. Tell me, cutie,” he coos, “who do you think she’d believe?”

Your breath hitches, another sob catching in your throat – even if you wanted to answer, you can’t and he knows it. “She’s in love with me, you know. It’s almost a little pathetic how easy it was to manipulate her into bed – so lonely… desperate for love, for somebody – anybody – to pay attention to her, take care of her,” he sneers, distaste curling at his lips. “Wouldn’t it just break her fragile little heart to know she’s fallen for the man who raped her baby girl?”

Another garbled cry slips past his fingers and you can only watch in frozen horror as his other hand drifts back to his zipper. “You want to protect her, don’t you?”

His grip relents just enough for you to jerk a shaky nod.

“Pretty girl, so good for me.” Another kiss pressed to your cheek as the quiet hiss of his zipper fills the air around you. “It’ll be our little secret, hmm? She doesn’t need to know just yet, let her be happy a little while longer…”

Sliding down his briefs just far enough for his cock to spring free, he strokes it for a moment with slow, leisurely movements, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches your eyes widen. 

And when he pulls you forward, guides your mouth towards it, pre-cum beading at the tip, withdrawing his fingers so you can quickly gasp for air, you just… let him.

The fight’s gone, as quickly as it had come. 

You let his fingers curl through your hair, use it as an anchor when your lips part to force his cock between them. And he moans, low and shivery as your tongue slides along the underside of his shaft and you try not to gag around the sudden intrusion. 

You think that there’s no room left inside of you for shame, but as his other hand creeps back between your legs, teasing at your cunt, you burn with it, clinging to the pyre of your own humiliation and disgust.

And still, you kneel on the couch, letting him fuck your mouth, letting those long, pretty fingers curl up inside of you – moaning around his cock when they stroke that perfect little spot.

“I wanted to – shit – take this slow,” he tells you as his hips jerk upwards, shuddering in breathless delight when his cock hits the back of your throat and it convulses around him. “I wanted to make you want me.”

Wet, messy, gags sound with every unwitting thrust – you’ve no choice but to swallow him down, let him fuck your throat like you’re nothing more than a toy for his pleasure. There’s saliva coating your chin, dripping down the length of his dick, pooling around his balls. You can barely breathe, a task made even harder when Oikawa decides to add his thumb into the mix, teasing your clit while he fucks you apart on his fingers.

It feels so fucking good, and you’ve never hated yourself more.

Your throat burns, hot tears stinging in the corners of your eyes, and yet he’s intent on driving you to the brink of your sanity with every calculated flick of his wrist. Something tightens in your belly, a spring coiled too tight, ready to snap, and you can’t help it when your hips chase his fingers, the needy, shameful little whimpers that leave your lips (still wrapped around his thick, twitching cock) as you search for the pleasure to temper the discomfort.

“You don’t have a clue what you do to me, do you? I could barely sleep last night–” 

You choke back a moan, your pussy clenching around his digits, sucking them deeper as white spots pepper your vision and you shudder out a moan.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he pants, but you don’t care – can’t, not when you’re riding his fingers, tongue lolling out as he gives you a moment’s reprieve to bask in the rippling afterglow of your orgasm before everything comes crashing back down around you. 

Oikawa lets you fall back against the cushions, breathless, trembling and dazed. You’re not stupid enough to believe that’s the end of it, not when his cock’s still hard, throbbing against his toned stomach when he gives it a slow, cursory pump.

“Lie back, cutie,” he whispers, keeping his eyes fixed on you as he pushes himself up off the couch to shed the rest of his clothes.

And as you shuffle obediently downwards, heart hammering in your chest, you find you can’t tear your eyes away from him either.

Tall and handsome, she’d said, but the words truly don’t do him justice. A body corded with lean, powerful muscle, golden, sun-kissed skin, a light smattering of dark hair trailing from his navel down past the well defined V of his hips… 

“See something you like?” he teases, smirking when you squeak and childishly jerk your face away, cheeks burning. “It’s okay to look, you know. I don’t mind the attention.”

It feels too soft, too intimate for what this is. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He’s not supposed to be attractive, or to make you enjoy your own assault, and you– you’re supposed to fight it, fight him instead of just lying there and taking it… 

But when he climbs back onto the couch, easing your still trembling thighs apart to settle himself between them, his touch is nothing short of reverent, dark eyes wide and adoring as you squirm uneasily beneath him. 

With one hand braced on the cushion beside you, his cock resting just above your aching sex, he leans forward, easing your top up past your tits. “Perfect,” he murmurs.

And it’s enough to make a fresh bout of humiliated tears spring to your eyes. Your hands curl into useless fists at your side as he settles back onto his knees and takes his cock in hand, hissing in pleasure when he glides the flushed, leaking head along your slick folds.

“Fuck, cutie. I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he laughs, biting down on his bottom lip as he watches hot, fat tears slip down your cheeks. With an agonisingly slow pace, Oikawa lines himself up with your cunt and presses in – even with how wet you are, one orgasm already wrung from you, the stretch burns and you can’t stop the choked gasp that leaves you.

His eyes flutter shut, head thrown back back as inch by inch his cock sinks into your pussy until finally he bottoms out with a satisfied groan. “Perfect for me, so fucking good,” he pants, and you barely have time to drag in a breath before his hips are drawing back, another desperate, strangled mewl escaping you.

Bruising fingers dig into your waist, Oikawa cursing as your plush little cunt flutters maddeningly around him– before he eagerly slams his cock forward, stuffing you full once more.

And as you sob and whimper between every wet, obscene squelch of his dick fucking into your soaked pussy, that all too familiar, shameful heat begins to pool in your core.

“Gonna cum for me again, cutie?”